#your rival in love gets prettier every day

[nemainofthewater]

Best character surnamed: Bai

Come and vote for the best characters with the same surname!*

What does best mean? It's up to you! Whether you love them, are intrigued by their characters, love to hate them, or they're your '2 second blorbos whose personality you made up wholesale', these are all reasons for you to vote for your favs!

*note, the surnames are not exactly the same in all the cases, as often there will be a different character. I am, however, grouping them all together otherwise things got more complicated.

Propaganda is very welcome! If I’ve forgot anyone, let me know in the notes.

This is part of a larger series of ‘best character with X surname’ polls’. The overview with ongoing polls, winners, and future polls can be found here

[sy-on-boy]

Okay, so Ch69 was a BOMBSHELL (and I'm going insane)

SSS appearing at the beginning makes me think Yuri might take on the case, meaning he might meet Anya (Anya's not supposed to know about Yuri's job) and Damian

It would also make sense since the Red Circus was taken on by Yor (Ch17.5) and it would be funny to see the two siblings deal with the same enemy while preventing the other sibling from knowing about it

Damian is sitting with George. You would've expected him to sit with Ewen/Emile, but he let them sit together. This is very curious to me because George literally tried to get Damian expelled, and only failed because Anya stood up for him (the teacher wouldn't believe E&E). Damian, sweetie, this is a boy who tried to frame you as a smoker and sent a spy to change your grades. Good for you that you don't hold it against him, I guess

I do think Ewen and Emile are very devoted to Damian (see the boys' field trip) but maybe Damian doesn't want them to fight over who gets to sit next to him?

Anya and Damian also sit in the same row on the two sides of the bus. Knowing how Anya wants to approach Damian (and how Damian notices Anya), it's probably intentional.

Bill makes a reappearance, which is a welcome surprise. Damian sounds like a classist (literally) with his comment that the school should've at least given each class their own bus. Huh, didn't know Damian liked his class that much (or hated the other classes so much)

"Shut up. Who told you Wald hall kids you're allowed to talk to me?" ??? Is Damian still salty about losing the dodgeball match?? Does he think Cecil hall is superior? Is there a hierarchy at school? Or does he just not like Bill?

"All you other classes are our rivals" Damian bestie your classes could change next year. According to what Becky said, they're going to be divided by grades. Damian sure has a lot of Cecil hall loyalty / pride for some reason

I love Anya's impression of Damian. He's a silly, snot-faced crybaby. Like, it's really evident from the artstyle that Anya thinks of herself as "totally adorable" (with Becky nodding in agreement, aww) while Damian is just a goofy scion.

NOTE: in Anya's imagination, the teacher says Damian is "an uggo on the inside". And Anya also says, "Sy-on boy isn't ugly, he's just a piece of crap"

So Anya doesn't judge from appearances, unlike Damian who repeatedly calls her an uggo and a runt, and it's possible Anya thinks of herself as "superior" to Damian because she doesn't think he's ugly, she just thinks he sucks in general LMFAO

So Anya doesn't think Damian is ugly. Maybe. She probably thinks he looks stupid though

By the way, Anya makes herself look prettier in her own filter. Damian also makes her look prettier in his filter

Anya throws a crumbled up piece of paper to get Damian's attention. This is exactly what Damian did when they first met and he wanted her attention

Damianya violence arc omg. Damian seems to be blushing less as the chapters go on, and they have a fun sort of semi-rivalry.

DAMIAN GOT THE CAKE FOR ANYA!! "I should just hand her the stupid cake and be done with it" Awww he genuinely got her cake! And it's the crunchy sort which she likes!

And Damian let E&E eat it (it doesn't look like he ate any himself) while being all flustered and annoyed. He's a good kid, deep down

A reference to the macaron arc! Lots of references to so-called Damianya (aka school) chapters, with 1) Bill + dodgeball, 2) George and the macarons, 3) Handkerchief + cake (+ Bond's kibble which was a gag in the handkerchief chapter)

Anya offers dog food to Damian. This is hilarious because she sounds so innocent and genuine, but Damian is furious.

"Cecil hall kids sure are noisy" Whoops, even Wald hall knows about Cecil's reputation. Damian and Anya probably argue every day at school. They're going to be Those Two

It's interesting to see that Anya isn't reading minds this chapter. She didn't realize Damian got cake for her and she didn't seem to have realised the driver was a terrorist? Missing Damian's thoughts is normal because it was a fleeting thought, but the terrorist was probably concentrating on the hijacking for like, the entire bus ride. Anya, you good?

And then the bus is hijacked. Woo! Action! Drama! Wow!

I'm super excited for this arc because of how much potential it as. It's giving me the vibes of Cruise Arc but with the Eden kids. It also feels like a fanfic to me, particularly my fic when Anya saves Damian from an assassination lol. Here's a dump of my thoughts:

Damian might be a main target. We know about his dad and his influence in the political sphere. Bill says "chairman's son Damian", which might be a nod to the fact. The terrorist guy also mentions "as the nation's elite, you've probably figured out what's happening", and Damian is an elite among the elite

This will focus on the subplot of Damian and Anya's friendship. As I said earlier, this chapter has multiple references to past Damianya chapters. There's also the theme of friendship going on currently, with Loid telling Anya to treasure her friends. Anya is also desperate to go on with Plan B because she feels threatened by her mom befriending Melinda. And Damian indeed buys Anya cake even if he never agreed to it in the first place lol, showing a bit of development. Anya also fantasizes about purposefully getting Damian into trouble and saving him, and now the entire bus is in trouble (and Anya can save him maybe?). So maybe we'll have scenes of Anya saving Damian (furthering his debt to her, which is mentioned in the chapter) or Damian saving Anya (paying her back since he never got to give her cake)

The adults might come in too. The possibilities:

Yuri, as I mentioned earlier, might be one because the SSS knows about this. I know this is a stretch but we might get Demetrius debut with Yuri (or after this arc). In a previous post I noted that the Forgers and Desmonds meet in pairs of fathers, mothers, and children. Demetrius is Damian's brother and Yuri is Yor's brother, so maybe the brothers might be a pair?

Yor was previously involved with the Red Circus, and I can see her coming back to tie up loose ends. And possibly going batshit because Anya is in danger. This might end up with Yor meeting Damian, which I think certainly makes sense after the Yorlinda chapters and Yor acting shocked that Melinda doesn't seem to care much about Damian.

Twilight would be interesting because of his dynamic with Damian. I analyzed the panels during the Twilight-Donovan face-off and you can just see Damian is standing with Twilight instead of his actual father. They get along fine and I think Damian likes Loid well enough.

Obviously, all three will have to conceal their identity from Anya (and the other Eden kids), so we might get one-sided interactions (such as Twilight saving Damian but Damian thinking he's just been saved by a random man)

And even funnier would be to have multiple adults on the scene (for Anya) and they have to hide from each other. Iconic Thorn Princess x Twilight teamup maybe?!

Anya (and the rest) might get Stellars. This time, if she saves them, she'll have an entire bus full of witnesses, unlike the Ken drowning incident. This could drastically affect Anya's reputation at school and her relationship with Damian. We might also get the Cecil 5 (+ Bill and George since they're sitting close to them) working together, which will be fun.

I do think Damian might give up the "our classes are rivals" thing if the two halls end up bonding / working together

And since I have the brain of a fanfic author, imagine if Damian is in trouble and Anya has to save him and vice versa... this is going to be the first real danger the kids have been in

I know this is a bit chaotic and messy but this chapter is scratching the itch lol. I'm going to be insane for the duration of this arc.

I'm so excited. I cannot wait for the next few chapters <3 Endo really went all out on this one with drama, action, humor, and there's so many ways this one could go!! <3

[rubylovessharks]

Rook x gn!reader, reader is NOT the mc (you are 18 or else itll be kinda weird) im also bad at giving chars nicknames that fit the char that gave them so you all will have to live with "mon rival" :/ i was also using google to help me out with the language of flowers so it might be wrong??? but i really hope its not- either way you get the point i was trying to make. also ik rook'd write poems for his s/o / crush and all but i have NO IDEA how to write them- ill try to include the knowledge of poems in the next fic but im not writing one!!

you and rook have fallen inlove with Vil himself! yet he seems uninterested in any of you romantically..but then again Rook has been looking mighty fine these past few weeks...

Ever since the start of your first year in NRC you've been getting closer and closer to Vil Schoenheit, who has shown you much of his personality that many don't get to see. One day he has introduced you to a new friend of his at the time, Rook Hunt. An odd fellow but he doesn't seem that bad.

That is until you have figured out you had feelings for Vil, and not just any feelings. Romantic feelings. And it seems that a certain hunter has the same feelings for Vil as well....

So for the past year you and Rook have had a friendly rivalry competing for Vil's affection, even though he has been dismissing both of your efforts to court him none of you would ever give up, after all he never said 'no', has he? Whenever you'd send Vil a bouquet of pretty roses Rook always seems to bring him an even bigger, prettier bouquet of roses. Whenever Rook would surprise Vil with a tasty meal you'd bring him a new tastier dish. And so on and on both of your efforts would go until a few weeks ago....

"Mon Rival, I wish you a good morning and a wonderful day!" It was normal for Rook to wish you good mornings and such whenever he saw you, but he never did so with ...a bouquet of exactly 7 roses? Is he showing off that he's about to give that to Vil? But you notice that he hasn't moved at all, there he is in front of you, hand held out with said roses. "I do hope you'll take good care of them, after all i have made sure they'd grow as pretty as you are!"

Confused yet flattered you take the flowers in your hand and just stand there. Rook goes on about his day and leaves you to wonder what this was all about. After all a bouquet of roses is a weird thing to give to your rival that wants to win the affection of another. But it seems that he doesn't stop there.. Now every week you'd get a bouquet of 7 roses either from Rook himself, or at your doorstep. It also seems that he stopped trying to win against you for Vil's love, but it also didn't look like they were together. Something clearly wasn't right..

Today you were talking to Vil as you were both sitting at lunch, nothing to big to talk about as there really was nothing new. Other then one thing. Rook's strange behavior. "Have you not noticed Rook's sudden change in behavior?" he asks you in a tone that makes you think he knows something you clearly don't. "I have, but I have no idea what it's all about. I mean my whole room is about to be filled with so many roses that my roommates are starting to get concerned!" it's true, you have started to put the flowers Rook gives you in anything that isn't a vase only because you have none remining! And you have nowhere else to them other then around your bed as to not get in the way of your roommates.

"And have you ever asked him 'why' or perhaps looked up what the meaning is?" Vil has a good point. Why didn't you think of looking up on the internet what the meaning is!? As you are about to answer Vil, Rook shows up with Epel and they both sit down. Not much else was going on that day, so the moment you finally had free time you looked it up. It's not that you didn't know that roses were a love language, it's that he always brought exactly 7 roses each and every time!

The moment you realized what that meant you have finally understood what's up with Rook's behavior. He no longer wants to be with Vil, but with you instead. But why? what's with the sudden change? It's not that he stopped obsessing over Vil, but he seems to be more interested in you a lot more now.

The following day you saw Rook, with yet again, another bouquet. But now that you know the true meaning of it you can't help but blush a little. "Mon Rival! I was just on my way to your dorm to ask someone to bring you these! What has you walking around so early?" It really was early, considering today was a Sunday and no classes were held, so many students would just sleep the day off and take a break.

"I was actually going to look for you." you can see the look of surprise on his face, it's not everyday you are confronted by your very own crush. "I wanted to ask you why you are even doing any of this. Don't you love Vil or something? Why am I the one you now hold affection for?" Rook gives you a smile and hands you the bouquet as he's about to speak. "You see after I finally understood that Roi du Poison does not like me back, I have also understood that it is you who I truly love." as you take the roses he continues tot speak as he puts his hands on his chest. "I see the way you look at beauty. The way you admire it! You look so lovely whenever you stare at Roi du Poison with such a loving stare. I wish you'd look at me that way."

Blush is creeping onto your cheeks as he confesses his love for you, it is the moment you realize you love him just as much as he loves you.

How can you not accept his roses after this?

[aworldforastage]

2023 Reading Log

In order of completion...

(Audiodrama art for The Plays of Lips and Teeth, Concealed and Blended: Fendai, Joyful Reunion)

1. 唇齿之戏 张佩奇 -- The Plays of Lips and Teeth [#cczx]

2. 粉黛 七世有幸 -- Concealed and Blended: Fendai [#fendai]

3. 天潢贵胄 漫漫何其多

4. 我成了虐文女主她亲哥 刘狗花 -- I Became the Older Brother of the Heroine in an Abusive Novel [#nwnz]

5. 相见欢 非天夜翔 -- Joyful Reunion [#xjh]

6. 陛下万安 决绝 -- Your Majesty, Be at Ease [#bxwa]

7. 总裁的狮子驯养日记 患者阿离

8. 妃嫔媵嫱 七月侯 -- Fei Ping Ying Qiang [#fpyq]

9. 铜雀春深 北有乔木St

10. 不枉 余酲

11. 天官赐福 墨香铜臭 -- Heaven Official's Blessing [#tgcf]

12. 魔尊他念念不忘 墨西柯 -- The Demon Venerable’s Wistful Desire [#魔尊他念念不忘]

13. 书穿后被暴君标记了 池翎

14. 督主有病 杨溯 -- Governor’s Illness [#dzyb]

15. 日落大道 卡比丘 -- Sunset Boulevard [#sunsetblvd]

16. 火焰戎装 水千丞 – Blazing Armor [#hyrz]

17. 内娱第一花瓶 三三娘 [#dyhp]

18. 邪门的爱情出现了 丧心病狂的瓜皮 -- Evil Love Appears [#邪门的爱情出现了]

19. 花瓶 困倚危楼 -- Flower Vase [#花瓶 困倚危楼]

20. 太平长安 盐盐Yany -- Placid Chang’an [#tpca]

(Mao'er audiodrama cover for I Became the Older Brother of the Heroine in an Abusive Novel, and Governor’s Illness , and Ximalaya audiobook cover for Blazing Armor)

21. 恰如其分 菡萏花开

22. 逢狼时刻 吕天逸 -- Meeting the Wolf

23. 亡命之徒的退休生涯 FOX -- The Retirement Life of a Runaway Desperado [#wmzt]

24. 望春冰 符黎

25. 凛冬岑寂 长不出青苔

26. 荒野植被 麦香鸡呢 -- Wilderness Vegetation [#hyzb]

27. 作践 十步方寒 [#作践]

28. 可一可再 反舌鸟 [#可一可再]

29. 隐婚 久陆

30. 残疾战神嫁我为妾后 刘狗花 -- After the Disabled God of War Became My Concubine [#cjzs]

31. 楚囚 林萨

32. 贪恋 莫以风 (original AD)

33. 富贵长安 五朵云 -- The Rich And Honorable Chang'an

34. 交易沦陷 在下小神j [#交易沦陷]

35. 臣服 墨奈何/墨青城 -- Surrender (Book 1) [#臣服]

36. 臣服II 墨奈何/墨青城 -- Surrender (Book 2) [#臣服2]

37. [重生]昨年 素飞柳

38. 每天都想抱崽的Omega 杳杳一言

39. 苏长清倒霉的一生 月色霜华

40. 渠清如许 清明谷雨

(audiobook cover art for Wilderness Vegetation, AD cover art for 作践, After the Disabled God of War Became My Concubine)

41. 泾渭情殇 请君莫笑 (GL) -- Clear and Muddy Loss of Love [#jwqs]

42. 然后就爱了 viburnum

43. 九千岁[重生] 绣生 [#九千岁]

44. 游龙随月 耳雅 [#ylsy]

45. 小福晋 半缘修道 [#小福晋]

46. 三嫁咸鱼 比卡比 -- Married Thrice to Salted Fish [#sjxy]

47. 合意 楚寒衣青 [#合意]

48. 陛下有一段白月光 天北闻秋 [#陛下有一段白月光]

49. 暗河长明 冷山就木

50. 欲言难止 麦香鸡呢 -- Eternities Still Unsaid Till You Love Me [#欲言难止]

51. 老婆是顶级Alpha，我该怎么办 海藻大王 [#老婆是顶级Alpha]

52. 有名 木更木更 -- In Name Only [#有名]

53. 心毒 初禾 -- Poison of the Heart [#心毒]

54. 危险人格 木瓜黄 -- Dangerous Personality

55. 穿成苏培盛了 一渡清河 [#ccspsl]

56. 为什么这种A也能有O 图南鲸 -- Why Is It Possible For This Type Of A To Also Have An O? [#为什么这种A也能有O]

57. 寒武再临 水千丞 -- The Return of Cambrian Period [#hwzl]

58. 奉君侧之十年心 天娜

59. 奉君侧之生死劫 天娜

60. 龙血/养父 水千丞 -- Dragon Blood

(Mao'er audiodrama cover for Clear and Muddy Loss of Love, In Name Only, and Dragon Blood)

btw ... I feel obligated to disclaim that just because I finished a novel doesn't mean I don't regret it or would recommend it ...

Books which I have read significant amount but stopped (but think I would like to finish someday ... )

剑名不奈何 淮上 -- The Sword Named No Way Out

电竞魔王集结营 青梅酱 -- The E-Sports Circle’s Toxic Assembly Camp

长安少年游 明月倾 --

德萨罗人鱼 深海先生 -- Desharow Merman [#德萨罗人鱼]

余污 肉包不吃肉 – Remnants of Filth

忧郁先生想过平静生活 青色羽翼 -- Mr. Melancholy Wants to Live a Peaceful Life [#yyxs]

魔尊也想知道 青色羽翼 -- Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know

不要在垃圾桶里捡男朋友 骑鲸南去 -- Don’t Pick Up Boyfriends From the Trash Bin

情敌每天都在变美 公子于歌 -- Your Rival in Love Gets Prettier Every Day

燎原 不问三九 -- Wildfire

沉舟 楚寒衣青

楚天以南 大风不是木偶 -- Under Clear Skies

乱世为王 顾雪柔/非天夜翔 -- To Rule in a Turbulent World

人鱼陷落 麟潜 -- The Fallen Merman

谁把谁当真 水千丞 -- Winner Takes All

凤于九天 风弄 -- Feng Yu Jiu Tian

营养过良 芥菜糊糊 -- The Nutrition is Too Good

Tags for works I haven't started reading:

六爻 Priest -- Liu Yao: The Revitalization of Fuyao Sect [#liu yao]

台风眼 潭石-- The Eye of the Storm [#tfy]

判官 木苏里 -- Panguan [#panguan]

[gravitydefyingtears]

Danmei Roundup

I suddenly realized that ever since MDZS opened the doors, I’ve steadily gone through a good amount of danmei. 👀 Since I’m apparently doing anything except write my final paper, I compiled a list of stories I’ve come to know either through their novels or audio drama adaptations (or both). Any of them look familiar? lol

Adding/updating the list as I go + highlighting some of my favs.

Period Fantasy: Wuxia, Xianxia

人渣反派自救系统 — 墨香铜臭 (Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System — Mo Xiang Tong Xiu) *system/transmigration*

魔道祖师 — 墨香铜臭 (Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation — Mo Xiang Tong Xiu)

��官赐福 — 墨香铜臭 (Heaven Official’s Blessing — Mo Xiang Tong Xiu)

铜钱龛世 — 木苏里 (Copper Coins — Mu Su Li)

二哈和他的白猫师尊 — 肉包不吃肉 (Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun — Meatbun Doesn’t Eat Meat)

Sci-Fi/Survival (? idk what 无限流 is called)

全球高考 — 木苏里 (Global Examination — Mu Su Li)

地球上线 — 莫晨欢 (The Earth is Online — Mo Chen Huan)

Modern Setting

Crime/Mystery

犯罪心理 — 长洱 (Criminal Psychology — Chang Er) 

默读 — Priest (Silent Reading — Priest)

破云 — 淮上 (Breaking Through the Clouds — Huai Shang)

皮囊 — 潭石 (Skin — Tan Shi) 

Gaming

你师父我人傻钱多 — 莫晨欢 (Your Shifu is Stupid Rich — Mo Chen Huan)

网恋翻车指南 — 酱子贝 (How to Fail at Online Dating — Jiang Zi Bei)

你亲我一下 — 引路星 (Give Me a Kiss — Yin Lu Xing) *celebrity* 

Schoolyard Romance

我喜欢你的信息素 — 引路星 (I Like Your Pheromones — Yin Lu Xing) *abo*

伪装学渣 — 木瓜黄 (Fake Slackers — Mu Gua Huang)

信息素说我们不可能 — 毛球球 (The Pheromones Say We've Got No Chance — Mao Qiu Qiu) *abo* 

Celebrity/Entertainment Business

我嗑了对家X我的CP — PEPA (I Ship My Adversary x Me — PEPA)

情敌每天都在变美 — 公子于歌 (My Love Rival is Getting Prettier Every Day — Gongzi Yu Ge) *system/transmigration*

我只喜欢你的人设 — 稚楚 (I Only Like Your Persona — Zhi Chu)

营业悖论 — 稚楚 (Fanservice Paradox — Zhi Chu) *boy group*

小行星 — 微风几许 (Little Asteroid — Wei Feng Ji Xu) *abo*

落池 — 余酲 (Falling Into the Pond — Yu Cheng)

迪奥先生 — 绿野千鹤 (Mr. Dior — Lv Ye Qian He) *crack/amnesia*

职业替身 — 水千丞 (Professional Body Double — Shui Qian Cheng) *rebirth*

没钱 — 吕天逸 (Broke — Lv Tian Yi) *system/supernatural*

营销号说你喜欢我 — 螽斯 (Clickbait Media Accounts Say You Like Me — Zhong Si)

Supernatural/Fantasy

论以貌取人的下场 — 月下蝶影 (The Consequences of Judging a Book by Its Cover — Yue Xia Die Ying)

我开动物园那些年 — 拉棉花糖的兔子 (Those Years I Opened a Zoo — La Mian Hua Tang de Tu Zi) *system*

临时保镖 — 绿野千鹤 (Last-Minute Bodyguard — Lv Ye Qian He)

Slice-of-Life/Other

飞鸥不下 — 回南雀 (Flying Gulls Never Land — Hui Nan Que) *adopted brothers*

安知我意 — 北南 (Know My Heart — Bei Nan)

刺青 — 不问三九 (Tattoo — Bu Wen San Jiu)

燎原 — 不问三九 (Wildfire — Bu Wen San Jiu) 

烧不尽 — 回南雀 (Eternal Burning — Hui Nan Que)

腹黑和腹黑的终极对决 — 羲和清零 (Behind the Scenes Hunter — Xi He Qing Ling) *corporate battle*

… … …

And then there are some more I started to various extents:

这题超纲了 — 木瓜黄 (Beyond the Outline — Mu Gua Huang) *schoolyard*

不要在垃圾桶里捡男朋友 — 骑鲸南去 (Don’t Pick Up Boyfriends from the Trash — Qi Jing Nan Qv) *transmigration/system*

魔尊也想知道 — 青色羽翼 (Mo-Zun Also Wants to Know — Qing Se Yu Yi) *period fantasy/system*

可爱过敏原 — 稚楚 (Adorable Allergen — Zhi Chu) *schoolyard/adopted brothers*

欢迎来到噩梦游戏 — 薄暮冰轮 (Welcome to the Nightmare Game — Bo Mu Bing Lun) *sci-fi/transmigration/survival?*

恶性依赖 — 金刚圈 (Unhealthy Attachment — Jin Gang Quan) *modern*

营养过良 — 芥菜糊糊 (Nutrition Overload — Jie Cai Hu Hu) *cats*

S.C.I. 谜案集 — 耳雅 (S.C.I. Mystery — Er Ya) *crime/mystery*

嚣张 — 巫哲 (Audacious — Wu Zhe) *schoolyard* 

穿成反派总裁小情人 — 林盎司 (Transmigrated as the Villain CEO’s Little Lover — Lin Ounce) *transmigration/entertainment business*

一不小心和醋精结婚了 — 一枚纽扣 (My Accidental Husband is Full of Vinegar — Yi Mei Niu Kou) *modern*

碎玉投珠 — 北南 (Sui Yu Tou Zhu — Bei Nan) *80s/90s setting*

兼职无常后我红了 — 拉棉花糖的兔子 (After I Started Working as a Wu Chang, I Became Popular — La Mian Hua Tang de Tu Zi) *modern/supernatural*

新时代，新地府 — 林知落 (New Times, New Hell — Lin Zhiluo) *supernatural/modern/crack*

两A相逢必有一O — 厉冬忍 (When Two As Meet, There Must Be One O — Li Dong Ren) *abo/schoolyard*

破云2：吞海 — 淮上 (Swallow the Sea — Huai Shang) *crime/mystery* 

[dkfile]

the soulmate service

❛ pretty at every hour of the day but especially prettier under the glow of the sunset. ❜

word count | 31.0k (31,023) genre | fluff, angst, soulmate au, summer break au, (one-sided) rivals to lovers ━ matchmaker!vernon, older brother!soonyoung

the soulmate service has one purpose: to help those who drew the short end of the stick and ended up without a person to live their forever with. after the heart wrenching realization that the boy you’ve loved since you were thirteen isn’t the one meant for you, you put your love life in the hands of vernon chwe — which, now that you think about it, is probably a very bad idea.

★ warnings | ambiguous/open ending, mentions of unrequited love, lots of bickering between vernon and reader, pining (?), there’s angst but it’s minimal

THE RED STRING, more commonly known as The String of Fate, appears on an individual’s finger at the exact minute they turn eighteen. The string may either: (1) turn gold if the individual falls in love with their soulmate by 24 hours after first contact, or (2) be cut if said person and their soulmate fail to fall in love.

ZERO.

At thirteen, you’re convinced Lee Seokmin’s your soulmate. You’re sure of it.

It’s basic logic — you’re similar, and not just in the favourite colour and favourite animal type of way (although yes, you both like the colour yellow and yes, you both love dogs), but also in the way where his dream date is the same as yours, and the only difference between the wedding you’ve envisioned and his, is that Seokmin’s doesn’t involve a tremendous balloon arch (but that can be negotiated).

Seokmin’s gold. His eyes are sugary, and he keeps his pinky promises, and the hair at the back of his head is untameable. His smile is radiant in every sense of the word, holding the effulgent type of brightness that blinds.

Your brother recognizes the puppy dog love when you’re sixteen and no longer trying to hide it. He tells you it’s a childhood crush you’ll get over and that it better happen fast, because there’s no way he’s ever letting you, lovesick, anywhere near his best friend.

And then you tell him that Seokmin’s your soulmate — you’re sure of it; as sure as the floor beneath your feet, as the gravity keeping you grounded. When you turn eighteen, the universe will only prove your suspicions and your string will be gold because you already love him.

“That’s not how it works,” Soonyoung deadpans, snatching the dish rag from your hands.

You’re not fazed by the disgusted look Soonyoung gives you at your response. “We’ll defy the universe, then.”

But you don’t. Because Seokmin turns eighteen before you, and two months before fate presents you with its one of a kind eighteenth birthday gift, he finds his soulmate.

And it’s not you.

Monday, June 28 22:39 p.m.

soonyoung: i can’t believe you wrote a sappy paragraph for ur insta caption soonyoung: we aren’t leaving until tmrw in case you forgot

seok oh come on soonyoung give your siblings a break

you: yeah can you blame me 😕 i’m gonna miss seokmin a lot

seok aw 😓❤️

soonyoung: wait hold on what about me?

you: goodnight

soonyoung: HEY soonyoung: WHAT ABT ME ???

JUNE 29.

“I’m telling you, it’s going to rain and everything’s gonna get soaked.”

“It’s not going to rain.”

“Grab the tarp just in case.”

“I checked the forecast five times—” with the weather app opened, you shove your phone into Soonyoung’s face, only to almost drop it after he swats it away. “—and it says it’s not gonna rain. It doesn’t even say there’s a 10% chance. Clear skies all throughout your entire road trip.”

“Okay,” Soonyoung nods, poking his tongue into his cheek. “Okay. But can you just grab the tarp?”

You scowl at him, pocketing your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. “I’m not getting you the fucking tarp,” you hiss. “Mostly because I don’t even think we have one.”

Seokmin appears beside you and nudges your shoulder. “Yeah, we’ll be fine,” he gives his best friend a reassuring smile. “But I already put it in the back of your truck.”

Soonyoung, annoyingly melodramatic, sighs in relief. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Seokmin only shrugs in response and takes Soonyoung’s place across from you when the latter hurries to help your dad with one of the boxes. You’re not surprised when Seokmin gives you the same dazzling grin you’ve fallen in love with, shoving his pockets into his sweater despite the fact that the sun burns.

His stuff is haphazardly stuffed in boxes he found in his basement and thrown into Soonyoung’s beat-down pickup truck. A college pamphlet is folded in half and tucked into his back pocket and he wears the expression of a boy desperate to leave home. Excited to leave home.

Seokmin’s leaving.

Him and Soonyoung both, because you could never find one without the other. Their gap year has given them a lot of time to reflect and figure out what they wanted to do with their lives. And when they figured it out, they enrolled into the same college. And now they’re moving away.

“So, will you miss us?” Seokmin asks. It’s a stupid question but he doesn’t know it.

“No,” you scoff. Seokmin bites his tongue to stop from smiling and your heart pangs, “I don’t think I will. The house will be peaceful now — you and Soon won’t come barging into my room without knocking anymore.”

They won’t barge into your room anymore. Your heart pangs again.

Seokmin rubs his cheek, long fingers grazing honey skin. “I’ll miss you too,” he says sincerely. Behind him, Soonyoung talks with your parents, rolling his eyes at your worrying mother but hugging her nevertheless. Your finger twitches to move towards Seokmin one last time and touch him before he disappears.

But he was never yours to begin with. He was always his soulmate’s — he just didn’t know it until he met them in the candy section of a convenience store during one of his and Soonyoung’s many spontaneous trips out of town.

It’s been months and it still hurts. “I know you will,” you reply and watch as he takes a step back, then another. He’s making his way towards the car. “I made your life very interesting, you know.”

His smile is the most infuriating thing about him. “Oh, without a shadow of a doubt.” And then he turns to Soonyoung and hugs your parents too. Bitterly you wonder why he didn’t hug you, but you know it’s for the best if he didn’t; you wouldn’t have been able to let go.

Soonyoung and Seokmin enter the car, your brother settling into the driver’s seat because, despite them both being god awful drivers, Soonyoung is better. The car door slams and you step beside your parents by the fence and watch as the flick in Soonyoung’s wrist sets the ignition to life.

“I’ll see you in August?” you shout, unconsciously rubbing your index finger and thumb over your right pinky. Before, you’d be itching for your eighteenth birthday to arrive, but now you just want it over and done. Your family wouldn’t have that, though — they believe in love and happy endings and everything in between.

You hear Soonyoung’s voice. He’s always been loud and you hate that you’ll miss it. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” he exclaims, and reaches over Seokmin to poke his head through the window. “Bye!”

The car jerks forward while Soonyoung is still sprawled on Seokmin’s lap. Your mom yelps. “Didn’t I tell you to make sure the car was in park?” your dad chides, stomping over to the car and Soonyoung hurries to sit back in his seat.

“It was!” Soonyoung whines. “I just put it in drive because we’re leaving.”

Your dad rubs his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

Even though you can’t see him, you know Soonyoung’s grinning like the pain in the ass he is. “I love you, dad.”

Your dad grumbles. “I love you, Soonyoung.”

But Soonyoung doesn’t stop talking. “I love you, mom! I love you, Y/N!”

You hear Seokmin grunt, “Dude, where’s my ‘I love you’?”

“I see you everyday. I’m not gonna give you one,” Soonyoung scoffs. Then he shoves Seokmin into the side of the door gently and your stomach twists.

With one last goodbye, Soonyoung stomps on the gas and the car zips away. Your mom rolls her eyes as she moves to walk back inside of the house, grumbling about how horribly fast of a driver her son is. Your dad follows, asking if she wants a ride to work tomorrow, and you only watch the car until it turns the corner and disappears as it whizzes by your neighbour’s house.

It’s not fair, you think. You know Seokmin. He knows you. You’ve known him for your entire life and you love him for all his faults and his flaws. It’s cruel that the universe let you fall for him all while knowing that he was never meant to be with you.

But falling was never the universe’s fault.

It was yours.

JUNE 30.

A random 80s song Soonyoung’s downloaded isn’t what wakes you up this morning.

“Rise and shine!”

It’s Kim Jiwoo.

You groggily blink up at the ceiling, only to automatically squint as the sunlight pours through the window. Your black curtains — your oh so lovely black curtains that keep the sun out and let you sleep peacefully — are drawn, but that’s not what you’re focussed on. No, what you’re focussed on is that Jiwoo’s matched her big and bright smile with a sweater you’re pretty sure is yours.

Your head hits the pillow. “It’s too early for this.”

Jiwoo watches as you turn to face the wall away from the window. “The sun’s already up,” she says as if you don’t already know. “And we’ve got places to be. So get ready.”

Deciding to ignore the statement, you ask, “How did you even get in?”

“Your family’s very creative when it comes to hiding a backup key,” Jiwoo quips sarcastically and you make a mental note to talk to your parents about hiding the key under the welcome mat. “It’s insane how you guys haven’t been robbed yet.”

You shuffle to stare at Jiwoo. “Wait, so mom and dad didn’t let you in?”

She shakes her head. “No, they were still asleep when I got here. I made them eggs though.”

You can practically imagine your parents walking down the stairs only to find their kid’s best friend scrambling eggs in the kitchen and greeting them with a cheerful good morning. Visualizing your father’s expression is easy enough — he’s always been flawed when it comes to hiding his emotions.

Mom says you get that trait from him.

“Do you ever sleep?”

Jiwoo smiles. “Got five hours last night,” she shrugs. “And bought an extra large cup of coffee before getting here.”

Of course she did. No rest for the wicked.

Having no energy to retort, you nod, “Okay.”

Jiwoo blinks at you. “Are you not going to get up?”

Shuffling to rest against the headboard, you ask, “Why are you here?”

“Oh, it was this whole thing,” she waves her hand dismissively and shakes her head. “Soonyoung texted me yesterday and he was talking about how down you looked yesterday before him and Seok left—”

“They were leaving,” you interject quickly, hoping this conversation isn’t going in the direction you predict it’s going to go in, “of course I was sad.”

Jiwoo attempts to brush her bangs out of her eyes. “Soonyoung thought you’re still upset about the whole soulmate thing,” she replies and raises her eyebrows at your frown. “Your brother’s more observant than you give him credit for.”

You grumble. “Whatever.”

“Y/N, you can’t act like this all summer.”

“Like what?”

She waves her hand again with an air of nonchalance, but from the look on her face, you know she’ll drag you out of bed if she has to. Jiwoo’s always been as stubborn as she is optimistic.

“Like this,” she gestures towards you. “Heartbroken over a man who never even knew that you loved him. Actually, no — heartbroken over a man who isn’t even here.”

You pout. “Seokmin’s not that far away.”

“He’s far enough,” Jiwoo sighs. “Listen, he’s a great guy, Y/N, but he’s not worth crying over.”

She’s right. You know Seokmin’s a good person and you know you shouldn’t be upset over him. Yeah, you love him and he doesn’t love you back, but that isn’t his fault. You should get over him, you should put this behind you and focus on the remaining time you have left with Jiwoo before she packs her bags and heads to South Korea.

But it’s hard, especially since you believed your whole life that Seokmin was your soulmate — and also a part of you doesn’t want to let that thought go.

Jiwoo grabs your blankets and snatches it off your body. “Get dressed,” she isn’t able to stop the pity from blooming in her eyes. The sight of it bothers you, so you plant your feet on the floor and trudge towards your closet. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re done.”

Halfway through the bus ride it hits you that you still don’t know where Jiwoo’s taking you. She tells you it’s a surprise while her usual happy-go-lucky grin is replaced with one with an undertone of mischief. You can count on one hand the amount of times Jiwoo’s scheming face has ended well for you with two fingers left to spare.

Saying you’re a little suspicious is an understatement.

Eventually, she hops off the bus and leads you into a vaguely familiar Target store; the one you usually go to is walking distance from your house, and you would never go out of the way to bus to a different one.

Goosebumps rise on your skin the moment you enter the building, engulfed in the air-conditioned atmosphere and the overplayed songs blasting through the speakers. The store’s not as crowded as you expected it to be; the employees are tired and the Starbucks is empty.

Jiwoo grabs your wrist and drags you past the checkouts until you reach a small store with a rack of pamphlets and magazines placed near the entrance. The exterior walls are pastel pink and ‘THE SOULMATE SERVICE’ glares down at you, painted in a dull red. Inside, two employees talk amongst themselves behind the counter.

Your eyes rake over the store’s name again. “In case you don’t remember,” you say softly to Jiwoo, noting how some of the paint is chipping away, “I’m not eighteen and I haven’t found my soulmate.”

“Yeah, well,” Jiwoo purses her lips and takes a step inside, “who better to help you get over Seokmin than the best matchmakers the world has seen, right?”

You immediately don’t like the sound of that, but before you can attempt to get any more information, Jiwoo’s skipping off to one of the employees who doesn’t look particularly happy to see her. You take a pamphlet by the rack and flip through, scowling at the description written at the front:

Here at The Soulmate Service we help people who want to find love. Whether it be those who couldn’t find it or those who did but were never loved back—

After annoyedly placing the pamphlet back onto the rack and realizing that artificial images of happy couples are plastered all over the walls, you decide that sticking by Jiwoo is better for your sanity. Although, when you get to the front desk, you can tell the employee she’s bickering with grows frustrated by the second.

“Oh, great,” the employee grunts when you fill in the empty spot on Jiwoo’s left, “you must be the person Jiwoo won’t shut up about.”

Jiwoo scowls. “Your customer service is awful,” she turns to you and hugs your arm to her side. “This is Winn. He’s my neighbour.”

“Moving into the house across from hers was the worst thing to ever happen to me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jiwoo replies. “I’m getting you more customers and this is how you treat me?”

Your eyes widen at that. “Wait, no,” you chuckle nervously, “I’m not a customer.”

Winn quirks an eyebrow and looks from you to Jiwoo.

“Yes, you are,” Jiwoo says firmly, fixing you with a stern look. “Remember what we talked about earlier?”

“Ah, yes,” you quip in a sarcastic wistful tone, “I’m heartbroken and sad and Seokmin is great but he’s not worth crying over.”

“Exactly!” Jiwoo exclaims, brushing off your rancour. “Winn, here, has someone who can help you. Getting over first loves and all that.”

The exasperation on Winn’s face is painful. “No, I don’t. This is a soulmate service, Jiwoo, and in case your friend isn’t extremely desperate to find someone to fill in the void fate left behind, then I can’t help.”

“But Y/N does need a void filled!” Jiwoo argues. “Have I told you that she thought her soulmate—?”

You shove her. “Hey!” you exclaim. “You can’t just tell random people the ups and downs of my love life!”

“You don’t have a love life,” Jiwoo always remembers to add an extra flair of drama in everything she does. From the look she gives you to the way she throws her arms up, “that’s the problem.”

On the tip of your tongue, there’s a retort. An argument, a response you want to give her, because you do have a love life… Well, except for the fact that you don’t. Going on a few dates during high school but never pursuing a relationship because you believed your world revolved around a boy who never loved you doesn’t count as having a love life. In more ways than one, what you feel for Seokmin never counted and never will.

You may love Seokmin but he was never yours. It repeats in your mind as Jiwoo turns back to argue with Winn. The mantra never stops, as if your head is desperately trying to send a message to your heart, reminding it that the wound sliced through it has to heal, and what better time than to start now?

Somehow, when your hand squeezes Jiwoo’s, she knows the message you’re trying to get across. She squeezes your hand back — in comfort, in reassurance, in a way that tells you you’re going to be okay.

You just hope she’s right.

JULY 1.

You know who Vernon Chwe is, but you wouldn’t necessarily call him a friend.

(He’s a pain in the ass.)

In kindergarten, your brother had boasted about how he was the nicest kid in his class and sent you a condescending smirk that made you kick his shins — which only proved his point that you’re the meanest person he knows. Obviously, he was wrong (as first grade boys always are) and to prove it, you went to the first lonely classmate you saw in the sandbox and helped him build a sandcastle. Only, after getting the inevitable praise from your fellow classmates, he took all the credit, and you were beyond mad.

Back then, the silent treatment deemed an appropriate punishment, but Vernon didn’t seem all that bothered by it. Even if you didn’t speak to him years after kindergarten ended.

On the first day of fifth grade, Mrs Sinclair had put a seating plan on the projector and, to your dismay, you had to sit beside Vernon for potentially the rest of the year. He drew on the table, tucked his foot at the back of your chair leg to make you trip, and send you a snobbish grin whenever you looked back at him. Whenever he got in trouble, he liked dragging you down with him, too, and you spent many wasted lunchtimes in the classroom with Vernon while your friends played outside.

Eventually, two months before the school year reached its end, Mrs Sinclair decided enough was enough and decided to move you.

“You and Vernon have been causing too much trouble for me this year,” she had commented with a clipped tone that made you want to talk back and retort that you never did anything wrong. But you kept your mouth shut, because at least you were being put far away from him.

You didn’t attempt to try and be civil with Vernon after that — not in junior high or in high school, because he would always cause a ruckus at the back of the classroom, slip mocking love notes into your locker on Valentine’s Day, and plastered his prom king campaign posters over yours.

(You didn’t win, but he didn’t either, so you count that as a victory.)

You can’t believe this is the person who’s meant to help you get over Seokmin.

“Winn says he’s one of the best matchmakers he has,” Jiwoo tries to reassure you over the phone after you spot Vernon sitting on the park bench. “Obviously I don’t know if that’s the truth since Winn hates my guts. And also Vernon’s barely an adult, but,” Jiwoo pauses for a moment, choosing her words carefully, “at school Vernon always seemed to be a hopeless romantic, right?”

“I can’t believe this,” you practically spit. “I want out.”

Jiwoo gasps dramatically through the phone. “What? Are you kidding? You can’t do that!”

“I’m not going to let Vernon Chwe of all people dictate my love life.”

“Okay. Again, it’s not like you have one—”

“I’m leaving, Jiwoo.”

“No, wait!” Jiwoo says hurriedly. “Just give this a chance, okay? A week, tops. If you don’t like it by then, you can be a sucker and give up.”

“No.”

You can already imagine her lips forming into a pout. “Please? Winn’s gonna kill me if I made him go through all that trouble only to have you back out.”

Your mouth opens to argue again and you almost suggest that this is has to be some sort of practical joke. Or, maybe, Vernon just happened to sit in the same spot Winn told you to go for your first meeting. Maybe, Vernon is being a clueless idiot as per usual, and has nothing do with any of this.

But then his eyes flicker from the trees and land on you, and from the way his mouth curls, you realize Winn’s told him who his next client is.

You forgot how aggravating his grin is. “I have to go,” you growl into your phone. The venom is misdirected; Jiwoo shouldn’t be on the receiving end of it, but there’s just something about your annoyance for Vernon that makes you lose control. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Um, okay,” Jiwoo replies and lets you hang up first.

As you walk towards the bench, slipping your phone into your back pocket, the mirth on Vernon’s face grows. You liked it better when you graduated and didn’t have to think about him again. Only a few days into summer vacation and he’s here, trouble tainting his expression and a haunting grin that’s only purpose is to irritate you.

“Well,” Vernon begins when you stop in front of him, “long time no see, Y/N!”

Your jaw clenches, hating the way your name rolls off his tongue. “Don’t call me that.”

“What, would you rather I call you Kwon?” he scoffs. “I thought we were past the stage of being on a last-name basis.”

“This is unbelievable,” you ignore his statement and plop yourself on the far end of the bench. You aren’t looking at him. He can only be seen through the corner of your eye, but he still somehow manages to cloud your vision. “When the hell did you decide to pick matchmaking as a profession?”

Vernon shrugs. “It’s only a part-time job,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate when you sneer at him. How on earth did Vernon manage to land a part-time job at a matchmaking agency? “But today isn’t about me. It’s about you, isn’t it?”

You rub your eyes and repeat, “This is unbelievable.”

Vernon ignores you. “I didn’t know you were eighteen yet.”

He tints the statement with something heavy that you can’t quite decipher, but you don’t bother fretting over it. “I’m not. I’m just here because—” you stop, “—only because Jiwoo wanted me to find someone.”

The corners of his lips pull inwards and he whistles, low and amused. “Love life is that bad, huh?”

Scowling, you say, “Shut the fuck up. I doubt your love life is as exciting.”

Vernon looks far from offended. “You’ve got me there, Kwon.” Somehow, you hate that he calls you by your last name even more. Maybe he should just never address you. “Anyway, we should probably start this meeting, yeah? I’ve got to meet with two clients in an hour,” he sends you a wink, “They’re very happy together, actually. Did Winn ever tell you I’m the best in the game?”

You’re tempted to reach into your pocket and call Jiwoo, repeat to her that you won’t go through with this Soulmate Service thing, but you won’t. For some reason, you think doing so will only amuse Vernon more and you’ll lose to him.

You’re aware that this isn’t a game and willingly hanging out with Vernon goes against everything you stand for. But doing this means wiping that stupid grin off his face, and that’s more than enough for you.

“Unless you forgot, you’re supposed to be setting me up with people,” you drawl. “So what’s your game plan, Chwe?”

His grin widens.

Thursday, July 1 16:05 p.m.

Maybe: Vernon: hi is this yn?

you: you’re ruining my afternoon

moron: oh it is!!! moron: thought you gave me the wrong number or something ):

you: well the idea to was very tempting

moron: … ouch

Thursday, July 1 23:11 p.m.

you: by the way are you ever gonna tell me what your plan is you: because you only just smiled at me and said you had to go

moron: is this your way of saying you liked my presence?

you: no what the hell

moron: relax i’m just kidding 🙄 moron: but you don’t need to worry! i’ve got it handled ;)

you: yeah that doesn’t really calm me. just tell me what ur plan is

moron: are you always this desperate?

you: fuck you you: can you cooperate for once and do what i ask you

moron: tsk tsk always so controlling moron: better get some sleep, kwon! we’ve got an early morning tomorrow

you: what does that even mean you: helloooo??? you didn’t answer my question

you: vernon. you: asshole Read 23:44 p.m.

JULY 2.

Tucked under your bed, in a box of paraphernalia from past school years, are two worksheets, one from the end of seventh grade and the other from eighth. Your teacher, Ms Edwards, believed in growing from feedback, and scoured for it everywhere — whether it be from fellow colleagues or her students. At the end of the year, she would give her class a worksheet — decorated with the special border effects on Microsoft Word to indicate the sheet wasn’t for marks — and tell them to answer the questions.

Your answers were half-assed:

What was your favourite part of the year? I liked the science projects we did and when Ms Edwards let us go to recess early.

What are you looking forward to this summer? Sleeping in.

But they were sincere. The only reason you liked Ms Edwards so much was because she didn’t care for letting you leave before the bell. Plus you’re pretty sure all your classmates responded to the second question with the same answer, but it was true, wasn’t it? Who didn’t like sleeping in?

When you pull back your curtains and scowl at the familiar car parked in your driveway, you come to the conclusion that Vernon Chwe always has to ruin things — even your rhetorical questions.

You push the front door open, mumbling a goodbye to your mother and drag yourself towards the driveway. Vernon stands exactly like he always does — leaning against something, arms folded, conceited grin — you don’t know why you expected him to be any different than when you saw him last. He still carries himself in an annoyingly smug way.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he snickers when you stop in front of him. “Sleep well?”

He raises an eyebrow when you hiss, “It’s seven-thirty.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

“Then why, pray tell, did you wake me up?”

When Vernon shrugs, you swear your eye twitches. “Your socks don’t match, by the way.” He pushes himself off his car and moves to open the door. “We need to get started.”

You make no move to walk to the passenger side, even when he juts his chin towards it. “You’re setting me up with people already? At seven in the morning?”

“Not even close,” Vernon responds. He taps the roof of the car. “Now get in, we’ve got places to be.”

“Places to be—” you repeat incredulously, “I’m not getting into a car with you.”

Vernon tsks, putting himself in between the car and its door. “Yeah, of course. You don’t have to get in if you don’t want to. But,” he taps his chin, “I could call Jiwoo, ask her to convince you to deal with me — and you’ll do it, since Jiwoo’s always been persuasive. Like, scary persuasive.”

A threat lies in his sentence, like he’s trying to get something from you. Vernon enjoys getting reactions out of people — more specifically, you.

“How do you have Jiwoo’s number?”

Vernon furrows his eyebrows, the joy in his eyes growing at your confusion. “We’re neighbours,” he snorts. He doesn’t give you time to wonder if he’s lying or not, because he continues. “So, are you getting in or not?”

You scratch your cheek in frustration before scowling and walking around the car. “Yeah, I’m fucking getting in,” you say aggressively, throwing your hood over your head to cover your eyes. Hopefully, the crimson fabric will be enough to shield the egotistical smirk Vernon won’t hesitate to send you during the car ride.

Vernon waits for your seatbelt to click before he pulls out of the driveway. He doesn’t drive as fast as you thought he would — in fact, he’s pretty slow. Cars whir past, some of the passengers turning in their seats to get a glimpse of Vernon’s car. You swear you saw one of your old classmates spin and stick their tongue out at you.

Awkwardly, the tips of your fingers graze the controls of the radio. You pause, waiting for Vernon to comment about you touching stuff without permission, but when all he does is hum, you continue to fiddle with the radio. It takes you a while to figure out what button does what and, for a moment, you’re certain you accidentally turned the air-conditioning off. The thing is, though, is that you’re too prideful. You’ll be damned before you ask Vernon for help.

It’s bad enough he’s playing Cupid for you.

A love song filters through the speakers and with haste, you switch the station to something else.

Vernon takes a moment to let the melody register before he raises an eyebrow. “Country?”

You tug on your hood and push the conversation into a different direction before you have to argue about music. It’s too early for this. “So, not only do you wake me up early, tell me to get into your car without telling me our destination, but you also don’t tell me the plan to—”

“Helping you fall in love?”

“What—? No,” you sputter. “The plan to help me find somebody that I like and likes me back.”

“So basically,” Vernon starts slowly, “a plan to help you fall in love.”

Playing with your bottom lip, you opt to ask him another question that will, hopefully, get you an answer. “Where are we going?”

Vernon doesn’t miss a beat. “Walmart.”

You halt, staring ahead at the road ahead before dropping your hand. “Yeah, because Walmart is always filled to the brim with people desperate for love,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your tone. When Vernon doesn’t bark back with a retort of his own, you face him. “You’re joking, right?”

“We’re not going to Walmart to find the love of your life,” Vernon tries to clarify, but it does nothing to swat your confusion. “We’re going because I need to run some errands, and I think spending quality time together will be good for us.”

The bewildered scoff falls from your lips before he even finishes his sentence. “What, are you setting me up with yourself?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Vernon tuts. “For me to find the perfect person for you, I have to get to know you.”

Narrowing your eyes, you ask, “And how long are you going to be doing that?”

In more ways than one, Vernon is careful. He’s gentle when red flashes at the stop light and he slows the car to a stop. He’s cautious when he glances over at you. “A month, maybe.”

You gape at him. “You’re asking me to spend a month with you?”

“God, it’s not that bad,” he protests. “We’ve gone to school our whole lives, what’s one more month to you?”

“Well, back then I didn’t willingly talk to you,” you argue, turning in your seat as much as your seatbelt will allow, “I only talked to you because you would only fuck off if I did.”

“Okay, first of all, ouch,” he looks at you like your protests have taken a toll on his very fragile ego. “Second of all, would you rather have thirty-one bad blind dates or spend thirty-one days with me?”

Without a beat, you say, “Thirty-one bad blind dates.”

The light turns green and Vernon steps on the gas. “I’m not as bad as you make me seem,” he comments, casting a glance at you. “I don’t even know why you’re doing this Soulmate Service thing.”

“Winn didn’t tell you?”

“Winn didn’t tell me,” he confirms. “Not like he knew much, anyway — only that you’re heartbroken and sad and have no love life.” He pretends not to notice the embarrassment flushing your cheeks when he observes the road before making a left turn. “You know I was only joking when I said that your love life was abysmal, right? You surely had to have had something if you’re heartbroken.”

Pulling at the seatbelt so it stops digging into your skin, you respond, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I don’t remember you being in a relationship, though.”

Curiosity clouds his vision, but if he thinks that you’re going to just spill everything your heart has been bottling up, then he’s wrong. “It’s complicated.”

Vernon scoffs amusedly as he pulls into the parking lot. “Of course it is.”

MY FINDINGS ON YN KWON:

ENTRY ONE: July 2.

Y/N’s definitely not a morning person. Not very willing when it comes to me getting to know them, but that’s not surprising at all (I’ll just have to work with that, I guess.)

Still unsure if they hate me or I just annoy them. Is that just the same thing?

Friday, July 2 14:57 p.m.

you: thanks for the gummy bears

moron: yeah no prob moron: but you know they place those things by the checkout just so the customer impulsively adds them to their cart, right?

you: duh you: but you can never say no to gummy bears you: besides i didn’t pay for it sooo

moron: ah so you’re EXPLOITING me

you: sure

moron: has anyone told you you’re a dry texter

you: only dry w/ you

moron: god you’re awful Read 15:15 p.m.

JULY 3.

“Wait, explain this to me again,” Jiwoo brings her face up to her camera, and all your screen displays are her big eyes and confused frown, “Vernon’s plan was to bring you to Walmart?”

You stop shuffling through your clothes and glance at her from your closet. “No, he was using it as a way to get to know me,” you explain lazily, “something about how it’ll help him with the whole thing.”

Jiwoo raises an eyebrow. “Is he setting you up with himself?”

“I said the same thing!” you exclaim. “No, apparently it’s better to know me and set me up with someone he knows I’ll like than to send me on fifty blind dates that’ll end horribly.”

“Right,” Jiwoo murmurs thoughtfully, pulling her face away from her phone and blinking rapidly to adjust to her surroundings, “and you’re fine with that?”

Taking a stranded hanger at the end of the rack, you throw it onto your bed so you can remember to put it away later. You miscalculate the strength of your toss and it lands on the carpet. “Well, I have to spend time with him either way. This will get rid of him faster.”

Jiwoo taps her lips. “And how long will he be, quote on quote, getting to know you?”

“Please don’t say it like that.”

Jiwoo smiles. “Say it like what?”

“Like that,” you reply, moving to grab your phone from its place against your lamp. You accidentally kick the hanger and it slides under the bed; you’ll forget about it until the day you finally decide to tackle the mess that lives under there — which probably won’t be happening anytime in the near future. “Like you’re implying something.”

Your best friend hums, entertained by the warning look on your face. “And what could I possibly be implying?”

The phone lands at your side when you let it slip from your grasp. “I’m not having this conversation.”

Jiwoo is left to stare at your ceiling and you make sure not to look at the FaceTime call in case she gives you a knowing look. “You still didn’t answer my question,” she says, voice muffled by your fuzzy blanket, “how long are you two hanging out for?”

“Not that long.”

“Okay, be a little more specific.”

You wince. “A month or so.”

“A month?” she shrieks.

“Or so!”

“That doesn’t even—” an exhale leaves Jiwoo’s mouth, incredulously amused. “Jesus Christ. You’re hanging out with Vernon Chwe. By choice.”

You pull at your cheeks and then squeeze them just so your fingers have something to do. “Can we please talk about something else?”

From the way Jiwoo agrees eagerly, you can tell she has something to tell you. “I talked to my aunt yesterday,” she says cheerfully. Now you grab your phone so you can see how the smile lights up her face. “She said she’s getting my room ready. Oh, and she was telling me about places she’ll show me when I get to Korea!”

Your eyes soften at the glow in her eyes. Everything about Jiwoo has always been luminescent. “You sound excited.”

“I am!” she nods, shuffling in her bed to find a comfortable spot. “And she introduced me to her neighbours — they have a girl, Jungeun, she’s a few years older, but she’s really nice!” Jiwoo places her hands on her cheeks. “You know it’s not too late for you to come with me.”

You play with your earlobe. “I know, Jiwoo, but it’s fine.” The offer is tempting — the idea of spending a year in South Korea, away from it all, holds a type of euphoria and adventure that could almost push you to give in. But wanderlust, no matter how hypnotizing it is, doesn’t flood your veins as much as it surges through Jiwoo’s or Seokmin’s or Soonyoung’s.

Home has always been here and you have a feeling you don’t have to search for it anywhere else.

Jiwoo pouts. “It’d be more fun with you there.”

“I bet,” you laugh, “but I think you’ll have an amazing time there, with or without me.”

“Yeah, but,” Jiwoo starts, biting her lip. She’s going to protest, you know she is — she always does when this topic is brought up, and the only way to get her to drop it is to take her mind off it. She looks at you, analyzing your face through her phone screen before she sighs and says, “we can hang out later, then?”

Your heart drops a little at her offer. “I would, but I’m supposed to meet Vernon soon and I don’t know when he’s supposed to come.”

“Ah, ditching me for a date,” Jiwoo says sarcastically, but her eyes overflow with mirth. “I see how it is.”

“It’s not a date!” you protest immediately. “And it’s already two and he isn’t here yet, so maybe he forgot.”

“So he stood you up.”

“Oh my God.”

As Jiwoo laughs, your mother peeks her head through your door, greeting Jiwoo with a cheerful hello before turning her attention to you. “The same boy from yesterday is here,” she says, head resting on the frame, “are you sure you want to be dating when your birthday is so soon?”

You gape as Jiwoo’s cackles fill the room. “We’re not dating,” you stammer. You look at your phone. “Jiwoo, I’m going.”

“Have fun on your date!” she taunts.

Your mom stares at you as you drop your phone onto your nightstand. She gives you a grin, the sort that’s big and all-knowing. “Are you sure—?”

“We’re not dating,” you repeat, standing abruptly from your bed and slipping past her in the doorway. “Please don’t tell Dad about this.”

“If he’s not your boyfriend, why do you care if your dad knows?”

“Because then he’ll tell Soonyoung,” you spit as if the name physically hurt you. Knowing your brother, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell Seokmin, and just the thought has you shuddering. “And he has a big mouth.”

She looks as if she wants to add something else but bites her tongue. “I have to go to work, I’ll be back at ten. Your father is at your Aunt Gemma’s, he’ll probably get home around that time, too,” she reaches the stairs before you, despite you already standing at the banister. “Don’t burn the house while I’m gone.”

Once she reaches the floor, she waves to Vernon, whom you hear politely say goodbye. When she closes the door, you stare at it for what feels like an eternity before sighing and hurrying down the stairs. The faster you face this problem, the faster it will go away.

The problem grins at you the moment your foot hits the floor. He’s spread out the entire Harry Potter movie series onto the coffee table.

“Took you long enough!”

“Shut up,” the scowl only reserve for him appears on your face as you round the couch and sit beside him. “Better make this quick, Chwe. I’m meeting Jiwoo after this.”

Vernon shrugs. “You can invite her to come. We’re having a movie night, anyway, and this might go until ten.”

Eight hours with Vernon. You think you might actually combust — not in the good way, either. “Jiwoo’s busy,” you say, “and I don’t think she finds the idea of spending time with you very pleasant.”

“Have you ever thought that, maybe, people don’t hate me as much as you do?”

You kiss your teeth, pretending to ponder on the question before shaking your head. “No, I haven’t. I guess I always assume people despise you, but can you blame me?” you ask rhetorically. “Have you met yourself?”

“Yeah, I don’t like myself very much either.”

“Don’t agree with me.”

Vernon smiles, grabbing the DVD to the first Harry Potter movie and stands to fumble with the DVD player. “I can never win with you, can I?”

Instead of humouring more than you already have, you take the copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix that lies in front of you and examine the back. “You know there’s this thing called Netflix, right?” you scoff. “Why waste all this money on DVDs?”

He sits beside you after watching the DVD satisfyingly glide through the player. He plays with the TV remote until the screen flashes to life. He knows what he’s doing, and if you were any more sleep deprived than you already were, you would think this was his TV and not yours. It might as well be, though; you didn’t even know you had a DVD player.

“It feels more authentic watching the movie this way,” responds Vernon. “And having these—” he points to the scattered pile of movies, “—makes the experience better. It’s nice to have a physical copy of your favourite things on hand. Also, the entire series isn’t on Netflix.”

He fiddles with the remote once he hits play and the familiar theme song drifts into your ears. He makes an argument about the joys of watching behind the scene clips DVDs provide that streaming apps don’t. You almost argue and say that those types of things can be found on the internet easily with a simple YouTube search, but Vernon’s face display an emotion you didn’t even know he was capable of having.

Passion kisses his skin, taints his eyes, and even though you hate him, you’re not going to argue about something he’s so passionate about.

“I’ve also found that these movies are good when it comes to getting to know people,” Vernon starts slowly when you don’t reply to his ramblings. If you didn’t know any better, he’s a little flustered. “Whether or not a person likes Harry Potter says a lot about them.”

You lean back casually. “I don’t hate it.”

“I remember you had an embarrassingly long phase in middle school where you were in love with one of these characters,” Vernon sighs in a sarcastically wistful way. “Which one was it again? The one that died…”

“A lot of characters die in this series, Chwe.”

Vernon claps his hands together, as if an epiphany just came to him; as if he didn’t already know the answer. “Cedric Diggory! That was his name!”

“Oh, shut up,” you snap. “I can’t believe I’m spending eight hours with you.”

Vernon reaches over into the bag by his socked feet and pulls out a tattered pink journal. “Eight hours where I’ll be getting to know you and writing everything I find onto here!”

He flips through the pages and stops at one halfway through. Your jaw goes slack at the writing on the top.

“My Findings on Y/N Kwon?” you screech, ripping the journal from his gasp. “You’re making this sound like I’m some sort of science experiment!”

Immediately, Vernon goes to defend himself, “Well, I needed to sound professional!”

“It’s not like you’re gonna be analyzing me—”

“Technically—”

“You know what I mean!” you snarl. You grab a stranded pen your dad left lying out and about on the coffee table to scribble into the notebook.

“Hey!” Vernon protests moments before the ink touches the page. “You’re ruining it! I decorated the page and everything to make it look pretty — careful of the hearts!”

You ignore him, and instead messily write underneath the top line: What I Learned Today About Y/N Kwon. You’re not pleased with the title, but it’s the best you can come up with without getting distracted by the movie playing in front of you.

“This is better.”

“It’s worse,” Vernon grumbles, taking his notebook back. “It’s long and is at the very end of the scale for creativity.”

“It’s better.”

He looks at you, eyes narrowing for a split second before he scoffs and turns to face the TV again. For the first time since you’ve ever known him, Vernon Chwe doesn’t egg you on or spit out another comment meant to do nothing but jab harshly at your sanity. For the first time since you met him years ago in that sandbox in kindergarten, Vernon Chwe keeps his mouth shut.

You smile.

One point for Kwon.

MY FINDINGS OF YN KWON WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N KWON:

ENTRY TWO: July 3

Still has the pyjamas they wore at Quinn Jenkin’s disaster of a slumber party in sixth grade. They still wear the pyjamas, too, despite that it barely reaches their ankles and there’s a big hole on the right knee.

Thinks McGonagall is better than Hagrid, which is completely wrong and incorrect and will not listen to a word of my argument.

Hopeless.

Saturday, July 3 23:38 p.m.

ji: are u sure you weren’t just on a date?

you: um yeah?? if i was you’d be the first to know you: why

ji: because it’s almost midnight and vernon just came home ji: and when i asked him where he was so late at night he said he was with u… 🤨

you: oh my god you: why would u ask him that you: why are you even out this late

ji: i was chasing a moth out of our house when i saw him ji: BUT THAT ISNT THE POINT!! what were you doing w/ him???

you: we just watched the harry potter movies!!!!!

ji: so?

you: SO definitely not a date. do you know how unromantic those movies are? so much death and sadness

ji: the more you keep on denying it’s a date the more i don’t believe you

you: icb you please leave me alone.

ji: denial isn’t healthy btw Delivered

Saturday, July 3 23:47 p.m.

moron: goodnight, kwon

you: eat ass Read 23:47 p.m.

JULY 4.

When it comes to your family, gatherings never turn out to be as small as they intend it to be. Take the Fourth of July barbecue for example: your dad invites Aunt Gemma, and her nightmare of a daughter invites her next-door neighbours who then invite their book club, who just so happens to involve Jiwoo’s family, so Jiwoo invites Lee Chan because the Lees own the donut shop by Target and she wants discounts.

“I think they spiked the punch,” Chan says. The barbecue takes place at the park by your house, which makes Chan feel slightly less guilty for dumping the contents of his cup onto the grass. “It tastes worse than usual.”

Jiwoo pouts. “Hey, I made that!”

Chan drops his cup into the nearest trash can and sits on the wooden bench, his back leaning against the table behind him. He ignores the exhilarating sensation of the burning wood against his skin and shrugs, “It was bad, Jiwoo.”

You half-heartedly attempt to kick his foot with yours, but miss and hit the grass instead. “Give her a break, Chan.”

The minimum amount of shade the tree branches provide is not enough to cover all three of you. Parts of the sun’s rays manage to slip past the gaps between the leaves. One particular ray bursts at your back, and you feel the unwelcome heat trickling up your spine. Jiwoo seems unbothered by the sun and instead takes a sip of her punch to prove to Chan that it isn’t as bad as he claims it is. Your lips tug at the straw of your juice box because her punch is bad, but you're far from strong enough to break that to her.

“Who did you invite?” Jiwoo asks when it becomes clear nothing will change Chan’s mind.

“Just a few friends,” he replies, eyes flitting behind you and Jiwoo in search for them. “Um, Seungkwan from the drama club—”

“Oh, I think he used to sit behind me in AP Chem!” you point your finger at Chan and drop it when he nods in confirmation. “He seemed nice but he never stopped talking about Glee.”

“One of his many flaws,” Chan affirms.

Despite the fact that you and Seungkwan have spoken on multiple occasions, both at school and outside of it, the two of you were never close enough to consider each other friends. Granted, it could be because there was an unspoken agreement between you that you wouldn’t acknowledge each other at school unless speaking was mandatory, or eye contact was made while you guys were walking down the hallway and it was rude to not send a tame smile. Seungkwan always pictured himself to be the main character, but in your life, he was nothing more than an extra.

Until functions like these came along. There’s a magic to gatherings that you can’t quite describe — it pulls people together. In fact, the last time you actually had a conversation with Chan that wasn’t started because of academics was at his parents’ New Year’s party. You haven’t spoken to him in months and now the two of you talk as if you’re old friends.

“And who did Seungkwan invite?” Jiwoo wonders.

“Well, some of his friends,” Chan answers, “which he has a lot of. A few have already gone off to do God knows what, but the rest stayed behind and he brought them along.”

You try to think of who Seungkwan associates himself with but fall flat when the only people you can remember have already upped and left. In hopes to find a familiar face that will jog your memory, you glance over your shoulder, only to be met with an overbearing grin that makes you want to crawl into a hole.

Maybe you and Seungkwan were never friends because you never bothered to care for each other, but because his best friend is the bane of your existence.

“Hey, Chan!” Vernon greets with bothersome cheerfulness. He throws an arm over your shoulders which you immediately shrug off, causing Chan’s eyebrows to rise and Jiwoo’s smile to widen. “Didn’t think I’d see you here!”

Chan eyes Vernon’s arm and then your irritated sneer before smiling. “Jiwoo invited me.”

Vernon peers over and grins at Jiwoo. “Oh, I didn’t see you!” he says loudly. “Hey, Ji — oh, Seungkwan’s here too.”

Seungkwan, hair freshly dyed blonde, looks concerned with Vernon’s sudden enthusiasm. “Right, hi,” he timidly says, nodding at you, Chan, and Jiwoo. “Hope you don’t mind we brought along a couple of other people.”

“That’s fine! The more the merrier,” you then turn bitterly to look at Vernon. “Shouldn’t have brought him, though.”

Seungkwan dismisses your sourness with a shake of his head. “I forgot you two hated each other.”

Jiwoo places her cup on the table after she takes a seat beside Chan. “Hate’s a very dangerous word to throw around,” she warbles, eyes glinting before she opens her mouth again to throw you under the bus, “they went on a date yesterday.”

Chan rips his back away from the table and sits up straight. “What the fuck?”

Your eyes widen in horror. “Jiwoo!”

Beside you, Vernon’s smile drops, his eyes narrowing in Jiwoo’s direction before he yelps when Seungkwan smacks his arm. “So that’s why you ditched me last night!” he gasps, feigning hurt. “Dude, I was counting on you to help me endure family game night and you ditched me for a date?”

Vernon rubs at the red spot on his arm. “We weren’t on a date!”

If looks could kill, Jiwoo would be in a lot of trouble right now. “I can’t believe this,” you mutter. “Jiwoo, I swear to God. We talked about this.”

The boy beside you gasps softly. “Aw, you talk about me?”

Exasperatedly, you close your eyes. “Please shut the fuck up.”

Chan and Seungkwan share a look before the former points towards the portable table by the playground structure and gives you a dangerous smile. “Y/N, could you get me a drink? And not any of that god awful punch—”

“Fuck you, Chan!”

“Shut up, Jiwoo, I’m asking Y/N for—”

You deadpan, “I’m not getting you a drink. Get it yourself.”

“Oh, get me one, too!” Seungkwan says hurriedly as he takes the other spot next to Chan. “But don’t get me that nasty, cheap stuff.”

“Cheap stuff—” you scoff, pointing your thumb in the direction of the table, “—we got all of that from Dollar Tree.”

That response is all Seungkwan needs. “Vernon knows what I like,” he hums slyly. “He can accompany you while you get Chan—”

You already know which direction Seungkwan’s trying to shove this conversation towards. “Absolutely not.”

“Suit yourself,” Chan grins wickedly. “We can just sit here and talk about your date.”

Vernon doesn’t seem at all bothered by the teasing. You two have become the targets of the gathering and yet he doesn’t bat an eye. Instead, his attention lands on you — as per usual — doing a horrible job at keeping your annoyance at bay. You always lose control when it comes to him.

Sneering, you say, “What juice box do you want, Seungkwan?”

The boy in question leans towards Chan and lifts his chin to see the table better. “No offence, Y/N,” he tuts, “but I don’t trust you to get me a drink without poisoning it.”

“You’re saying you trust Vernon more than me?” You really shouldn’t have been expecting anything else. After all, Seungkwan and Vernon have been attached at the hip since kindergarten.

“Well,” Seungkwan eyes you strangely, “yeah, I do.”

Beside you, Vernon tucks his hands into his pockets. “What makes you think I won’t poison you?”

The threat, anything but harmful, causes Seungkwan to wave his hand dismissively. “You won’t,” he says confidently. “And if you did, I’d kill you.”

Vernon shrugs. “Alright.” Then he offers his hand for you to take. “Let’s go.”

Glowering at the hand, you spin on your heels and stalk towards the table of cold refreshments. Vernon closes his fist and lets it fall to his side before he quickly catches up with you, the freshly mowed grass tickling his skin. He watches his surroundings — from the kids half his size chasing each other around the park, to your aunts gossiping under the shade of the birch tree. It takes him thirty seconds to think of something to say, which might just be a new record.

Thirty seconds of silence. Thirty seconds of you lingering in Vernon Chwe’s presence without him opening his mouth and ruining everything.

If only he could always be so quiet.

“I never noticed Gemma’s hair was red,” he comments casually.

“It’s not her natural hair colour,” you explain, although a part of you knows you don’t have to. “She dyed it last week. It used to be this weird shade of brown.”

“I figured,” Vernon scratches his cheek. “But at the New Year’s party it looked exceptionally weirder. The lighting in Chan’s house is shit.”

You’re about to agree but then you frown and slow your steps. “Wait,” you say, causing Vernon to halt as well, “you were at Chan’s New Year’s party?”

“Yeah? Do you not remember? I was in the kitchen and you walked in looking for a glass of water before you saw me and immediately left,” he stares pointedly at your tattered white Converse. “Have you noticed that when you want to quickly leave a situation, you walk away with your heels off the ground. You kinda walk like you’re tip-toeing.”

Vernon Chwe, ever the observer. At the sudden observational comment, you lift your feet up and gently shake them before walking again.

Now that you think about it, you do recall seeing Vernon at the New Year’s party, but every time you see him outside of school, you make an extra effort to dodge any sort of contact. Unlike instances with Seungkwan, you and Vernon don’t chit chat.

“Not surprised you don’t remember,” Vernon clicks his tongue. You don’t bother to correct him. “After you saw me you clung to your friends and your brother. You do that a lot at functions like these.”

The statement hangs in the air, but that’s not what you’re focussed on. Vernon’s attended more than enough of these get-togethers to know what you do at all of them, and yet you don’t remember seeing him at any — minus the one at New Year’s, but you wouldn’t have realized if he hadn’t told you.

When you don’t reply for the second time, Vernon speaks up again, and that’s what snaps you out of your thoughts. “Are Seokmin and Soonyoung not here?”

You stop in your tracks again at the mention of Seokmin, but Vernon pays no mind since you’ve both reached the refreshments. As he starts digging through the cooler in search for something for himself, you say, “No, they left a few days ago. They got into college and wanted to familiarize themselves with the environment there ahead of time.”

Vernon takes one of the only Pepsi cans left. “They wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, huh?”

You want to agree with him because it’s true. Soonyoung and Seokmin spent their gap year at home because it was what they were familiar with — and they didn’t want to dig into their college funds for money to use for travelling — but eventually they agreed they were meant for bigger things, and they weren’t going to find it here.

However, agreeing means coming to terms with the fact that you aren’t enough for Seokmin stay. It’s a selfish thought. You know that leaving is easier said than done, and it pains him being far away from you because he’s known you his entire life and he loves you. Not in the way that you want him to, but he does.

He hurts, too.

In the end, you decide to talk about Vernon instead. “Well, do you want to get out of here?”

His answer doesn’t surprise you. “Yeah,” he says, wiping his hands, wet from melted ice, onto his shorts. “Far away from here. Seungkwan has a friend who lives in New York and we’re going to stay with them for a year.”

“And you’re not coming back?”

“Never.”

You smile as you grab a grape juice box for Chan. “Then that’s just great! I’ll finally able to get rid of you.”

Vernon’s lips part. “What, are you saying you want to stay here?”

“I want to travel, yeah, but I like it here,” you answer. “There’s so much in this town, you know? So much to do.” Your eyes flicker to the other end of the park and your smile softens. “There are these houses a couple of minutes from here — they’re broken beyond repair, but I think I could fix them if I tried hard enough. And I could fix the playground at our old middle school so kids won’t have to worry about scratching their limbs on busted parts.”

“Ah, so you want to be like those people on HGTV,” Vernon murmurs teasingly despite the admiration flooding his irises. “Like the Property Brothers.”

You roll your eyes at the remark. “Sure,” you say. Vernon is sure that today is the first day since kindergarten that you haven’t replied to his statements with a snark. His fingers dance on the soda can. He thinks he likes your conversations better this way.

Jiwoo’s arm slings over your shoulder and she shoves her phone into your face, startling both you and Vernon. “Hey, guess who it is!” she exclaims, her hand unable to stay still. “Guess, guess, guess.”

From the way your eyes light up, Vernon comes to the conclusion that you know who it is. “Oh, hey!” you exclaim, fondness melting your voice. Suddenly, your eyebrows furrow. “What are you doing?”

“Flipping a pancake,” the voice on the phone says. “I think I’ve got it. Watch—”

First comes the sound of failure, then Jiwoo winces. “You definitely don’t have it.”

“Okay, one: fuck you. Two: I’m trying.”

“You’ll become a master at it in no time,” you laugh. “Probably not in the near future, though.”

“Whatever,” the voice grumbles. “How’s the party over there?”

“Mediocre,” you reply, taking Jiwoo’s phone from her hands. When the device is pulled from her grasp, she looks up and finally notices that Vernon’s there. “How’s Soonyoung?”

The person on the other end makes a noise that sounds like a meh. “He’s alright. A little homesick, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. How are you? Anything new and exciting happening to you over there?”

Before you can answer, Jiwoo leans into you so her face is in the camera. “Oh, you won’t believe it. Y/N’s dating someone!” She ignores your protests and takes her phone back. She’s quick; Vernon doesn’t notice she’s beside him until she places her hand on his shoulder. “Seokmin, this is Vernon!”

Seokmin grins. “Hey, I remember you!” he exclaims. “Wait, don’t they hate each other?”

“Well you know what they say about hate and love—”

“Shut up,” you glower, prying Jiwoo off Vernon before he can properly introduce himself. “We’re not dating, he’s just—” you pause, “—he’s just helping me.”

Seokmin snorts. “With what?”

You open your mouth and Vernon’s sure you have an answer already formulated in your mind when people ask this question. He knows you’ll mention being set up with someone, a summer fling of sorts. Maybe you’ll throw in something about the Soulmate Service, too, but you never mention that you’re heartbroken.

But you don’t say any of those things. Instead, you give Seokmin a smile of hope and heartbreak. “Nothing important.”

The pieces click into Vernon’s head like a puzzle while you give all your attention to Seokmin, listening to him ramble about the new people he’s met and the karaoke bar close to campus.

You always use a different tone when you talk to Vernon. With him it’s always irritated scoffs and annoyed sneers, clenched fists and gritted teeth. He has never bothered to notice how you talk to other people because he used to assume that you talked to them all the same and reserved something else for him.

But there’s something hidden in the layers of your eyes when you talk to Seokmin. No matter how much you try to hide it, Vernon can see the affection and the adoration and the love.

When you finally look up, something flashes in Vernon’s gaze. The bottom half of his face is hidden as he brings the Pepsi up to his lips, but you know that his mouth curls.

He knows.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N KWON:

ENTRY THREE: July 4

Ironic how they’ve always wanted to stay and the person they’re in love with has always wanted to go.

Sunday, July 4 20:58 p.m.

moron: thnx for inviting me

you: technically i didn’t invite you. we invited aunt gemma you: and somehow, in the web of party invitations, you happened to get one too

moron: yada yada yada you know what i mean moron: at least you didn’t kick me out

you: we were at a park. i couldn’t have kicked you out even if i wanted to you: and trust me, i wanted to

moron: you’re always saying stuff like that but you know what? i think you’re growing fond of me

you: don’t flatter yourself

moron: still in the denial phase. i see, i see moron: you’ll admit it soon enough Read 21:14 p.m.

Monday, July 5 12:09 p.m.

moron: someone definitely spiked the punch last night

you: you drank the punch?

moron: only towards the end of the night moron: my head’s killing me

moron: i don’t think i can hang out today

you: so i get a day off???

moron: don’t sound too excited moron: give me a fact about yourself tho so i can put it in my notebook

you: no thanks

moron: oh come on moron: please?

you: you know me well enough that ‘please’ isn’t gonna work on me you: just make something up

moron: i don’t have the mental capacity to think

you: not my problem you: get better soon though

moron: is this you being nice to me?

you: don’t get used to it Read 12:24 p.m.

JULY 6.

You are not worried about Vernon Chwe. That’s ridiculous. You’re only standing on his doorstep with a bag of his favourite 7/11 snacks because your mom overheard Jiwoo telling you over FaceTime that he’s sick, and she sent you to his house to make sure he feels better.

“What are you doing here?” Vernon asks, blinking at you when he opens the door.

“Heard you weren’t feeling well,” you respond curtly. When his eyebrows rise significantly, you shove the bag full of sour gummy worms and flamin’ hot Cheetos into his chest. “I wasn’t worried about you.”

He licks his teeth. “You’re here because I’m sick,” he states, letting the plastic bag dangle from his fingers. “I would say that means you were pretty worried.”

You purse your lips. “I’m leaving.”

“No, wait,” Vernon starts with a tone so nonchalant that it shouldn’t make you stop and listen to what he has to say. But you do, and he seems to have known you would because all you see when you turn to him is satisfaction. “Do you not want to come in?”

“No.”

“I don’t have cooties, Kwon.”

“Yeah, but you have germs,” you glower, “and I don’t want to get sick.”

“I’m not sick,” Vernon says honestly. “My head just hurts because of Jiwoo’s punch. Something wasn’t right with that drink — Chan texted me yesterday and told me the same thing.”

“Yeah, Jiwoo’s not very good when it comes to making things edible...” you muse. Vernon nods in agreement before he steps off to the side, waiting for you to walk in. Really, you could just shake your head and begin your trek home, but the bus stop is far and your legs are tired. You’re being offered rest, and who are you to turn it down?

You kick off your shoes and victory grazes Vernon’s lips as he lets out a triumphant sigh. After he closes the door, he leads you into the kitchen and drops the plastic bag onto the counter. As he rummages through the cheap snacks you’ve bought, your eyes stray from the pack of gummy worms he drops onto the granite and onto the fridge behind him, childhood photos and crayon drawings gripping onto bright magnets.

There’s a picture of your second grade class all wearing identical medals around their necks, smiling victoriously at the camera. You vaguely remember the day — to officially put an end to second grade and welcome you into third, your class had a soccer game; the winning team would get popsicles, but due to Seungkwan bursting into tears after his team lost, everyone ended up getting popsicles anyway.

“Do you want some ice cream?” Vernon stares at you, the bag now empty, looking as if the slightest of movements will make it fly away. “We’ve got a tub of vanilla and some crushed cones. You could sprinkle them on top.”

You drum your fingers on the countertop, contemplating, before nodding hesitantly. At your agreement, he gives you a bright smile before turning to rake through the fridge. He looks different like this — dressed in striped blue pyjamas with tired but glossy eyes begging to push the loose strands of hair away. Perhaps it’s the headache from Jiwoo’s punch, the liquid blending into his bloodstream, that makes him look like this — softer and approachable; better than he usually is on typical days.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Vernon deadpans, tossing an ice cream scooper from his left hand to his right. “You look as if you might fall in love with me.”

And just like that, the bubble is broken.

You scowl. “No way in hell.”

Vernon peels the lid off the ice cream tub, and for the second time this week, he says, “I’m not as bad as you think.”

He gives you a look glazed with an emotion your heart begs you to figure out. But your head instructs you to do otherwise, and after the handful of pain your heart has forced you to go through, you decide to trust your head more.

“No,” you proclaim, gracefully taking the cup Vernon hands you, “you definitely are.”

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N KWON:

ENTRY FIVE: July 6

Has never liked ice cream cones much. Says they don’t like it when the ice cream melts and uncomfortably clings to their fingers.

Gets this pretty look in their eyes when they’re lost in thought.

Tuesday, July 6 18:06 p.m.

moron: i never thanked you for the gummy worms and cheetos moron: so thank you

you: yeah it’s no problem you: but this is a one time thing. i won’t be opening my wallet for you anytime soon

moron: you have a very weird way of showing me you care about me

you: when are you going to get it through ur thick skull that i don’t actually like you

moron: truthfully?

you: obviously

moron: probably never Read 18:29 p.m.

Wednesday, July 7 09:33 a.m.

moron: WAKE UP

you: what the fuck you: WHY ARE YOU IN THE DRIVEWAY

moron: i’m feeling better!

you: what did i tell you about waking me up

moron: okay 1.) it’s not even that early

you: it’s 9:30

moron: and TWO: we didn’t see each other on the fifth so it’s only fair if we make up for lost time

you: i can’t believe this

moron: we’re going shopping

you: … you: hold on let me shower first

moron: ok moron: wait are you just going to make me wait outside

you: i’m showering please don’t speak to me

moron: ??? moron: I CAN SEE U FLIPPING ME OFF IN THE WINDOW moron: have you ever thought that maybe you’re worse than i am Read 09:49 a.m.

Thursday, July 8 07:08 a.m.

moron: hey

you: WHAT THE HELL

moron: you know the drill!

you: IT’S SEVEN you: please turn your loud radio player off i’m about to have a headache

moron: not until you get downstairs

you: please you’re making me hate uptown funk

moron: well yes that’s one of my goals moron: uptown funk aged like milk

you: this is one of the reasons why i don’t like you

moron: ????!!? Read 07:35 a.m.

Friday, July 9 16:04 p.m.

you: today was awful

moron: actually i thought it was pretty fun

you: washing other people’s cars was not fun

moron: quit lying

you: i’m not

moron: i know you were having fun you were smiling whenever i splashed you with water moron: your smile is pretty by the way

you: . thanks

moron: are you not gonna compliment mine?

you: your smile is okay

moron: WHOA HOLD ON moron: DID U ACTUALLY JUST ? moron: ????

you: you asked me to compliment you and i did

moron: I DIDN’T ACTUALLY THINK YOU WOULD??? moron: OH MY GOD!!!!! Read 16:37 p.m.

JULY 10.

Something has shifted. The stars have realigned themselves and the earth is trembling because something has rocked your world and put things out of place.

Out of place meaning that you’ve grown into the habit of waking up before eight because you know a certain someone’s going to park in your driveway and wake you up with a popular overplayed song from 2016. And shockingly, you don’t mind waking up this early, because you have a whole day ahead of you. A day where you can make new memories and learn new things and admire the relieving feeling of the sun hiding behind a cloud. Or you can rip it to shreds.

Out of place meaning that whenever your phone buzzes with a new notification from Seokmin, the ache has subsided. It’s still there — making itself known as some sort of sick reminder — but it isn’t as violent it used to be. You feel a little less empty.

Out of place meaning that Vernon Chwe was probably right about him not being an entirely awful person. That doesn’t mean his flaws still aren’t painfully transparent. He chews with his mouth open and drives ridiculously slowly and he prefers the purple gummy bears over the red ones, but he isn’t half-bad at making oatmeal cookies and he smells nice; like coconut and strawberries.

You wouldn’t say you like him, per se — years of hatred isn’t going to be swept away by a week of spending quality time. You’re just saying that, maybe, the idea of him you’ve created in your head isn’t the real Vernon you’re sitting in front of right now.

“It isn’t as burnt as the first batch,” he winces, dropping a tray of inedible brownies onto the cooling rack. You snicker, amused at his fifth attempt to prove oatmeal cookies aren’t the only things he can bake. He looks up at you, pouting, before asking, “Try again?”

Apron sprinkled with flour, you nod and hop off the stool to start making more batter while Vernon walks to the trashcan to dump the brownies. When he meets you back at the counter, lazily taking the oven mitts off his hands, he grabs the cookbook and reads over the instructions for the umpteenth time before looking up.

And then you two start over.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N KWON:

ENTRY NINE: July 10

Complains about how I’m a horrible baker but clearly isn’t very good at baking either.

Hoping to God Y/N becomes famous on HGTV because they are definitely not cut out for Food Network.

Monday, July 12 07:34 a.m.

moron: today i’ve decided we’re staying as far away from the kitchen as possible

you: smart idea

moron: and we’re going shopping instead moron: mostly because i was too lazy to think of anything to do last night and partly because seungkwan says there’s a party tmr

you: so we’re shopping for YOU

moron: well yes i figured you wouldn’t pass an opportunity at styling me moron: and also for you, if you want, bc apparently seungkwan also told chan and chan definitely told jiwoo so jiwoo’s definitely dragging you along

you: you’re right but you know what i’m hoping you’re wrong you: whose party is it anyway?

moron: i don’t know someone who went to a different school ig cause i’ve never heard of this person in my entire life moron: all i know is that they’re turning 18. so they’re throwing a rager while their parents are out of town

you: of course they are

moron: i’m abt to leave the house btw get ready

you: yeah yeah i’m already doing it

moron: also we’re making a lot of progress!

you: wdym

moron: this is the first imessage conversation we’ve had where you’ve said i was right AND said that an idea i had was smart

you: aw that’s true!

moron: … i feel like you’re gonna say something else

you: and FUCK you vernon chwe

moron: there it is Read 07:48 a.m.

JULY 13.

Vernon’s body stings — his arms, his legs, his heart. He’s been sitting beside Chan for a solid two hours because they managed to snag a free spot on the sofa, and seeing as the party’s guest list seems to be never-ending, they’ll never manage to find a place to sit if they abandon ship. Him and his friends have come up with a plan: two people sit on the couch while the other roams free and comes back in thirty minutes. But Seungkwan hasn’t been true to his word, the little shit.

A tingling sensation floods the veins in Vernon’s limbs. His heart is ablaze for one of two reasons. One: Before Seungkwan left, he handed Vernon a strange concoction that definitely had too much alcohol in it (or maybe he’s just a lightweight). Or two: his most recent client hasn’t shown up yet. That or you’re avoiding him — which you probably are.

He brings the red plastic cup to his mouth and lets the liquid burn his tongue. It does nothing to ease his chest.

Chan’s fingers do a dangerous dance on his phone, thumbs pressing the caps lock button before they type a long and displeased message. For good measure, Chan even adds the extra iMessage effects so Seungkwan knows how mad he is. Vernon, on the other hand, has accepted that sitting on a sofa at a stranger’s eighteenth birthday party might as well be what fate has planned for him tonight, although he doesn’t really believe in fate and his legs are begging him to stand up.

“Where is that little—” Chan begins grumbling under his breath, squinting at his bright screen. He goes on a mindless rant about how he needs a new phone because his current one won’t update to get dark mode, but upon hearing a loud call of his name, he snaps his head up.

Jiwoo has curled her hair for the night and adorns a bright pink shirt that she’s thrown an oversized white jacket over, which is definitely a bad idea. Never wear white to a party for a teenager who’s freshly turning 18. Vernon learned that the hard way.

“Hey!” Jiwoo exclaims loudly over the music. She sends Vernon a warm smile. “Why are you two sitting down?”

“Seungkwan’s a bitch,” Chan responds, as if that explains enough. Jiwoo seems to understand and nods. “Did you just get here?”

“Yeah, a few minutes ago,” she glances around the room to get a good look of the party-goers. “I was in the kitchen with Y/N before Wooyoung decided to drag them away. They’ve been talking for God knows how long — whenever you put those two together they never shut up.”

Vernon never recalled you being friends with Wooyoung. All he knew was that you two used to have yearbook together and that he’s handy with a camera. He frowns and shuffles uncomfortably in his seat.

He chugs his drink and lets the bitterness itch his throat before he stands up abruptly. Jiwoo blinks at him while Chan begins to scramble on the couch as if someone’s going to plant themselves beside him now that Vernon’s stood up.

“I’m gonna go get a new drink. Jiwoo, can you keep Chan company?”

“Actually, I promised someone I would—”

Vernon grins, stepping aside so he’s no longer within arms reach of Chan. “Thanks!”

“Wait—!”

Chan grabs Jiwoo’s wrists and drags her down beside him, beginning his spiel about why they need to occupy this couch until Seungkwan comes back. Vernon only gives her an apologetic smile before he weaves through the guests and the blood finally starts flowing into his legs.

It takes him a few wrong turns before he makes it to the kitchen. When he arrives, Wooyoung’s loudly talking to somebody else while you’ve seated yourself onto the kitchen island. Wooyoung’s too invested in his conversation that he doesn’t seem to notice that you’ve drifted off, staring at Vernon in the doorway.

You hop off the counter, apologizing to Wooyoung who only shakes his head in dismissal before slowly walking towards Vernon. When you’re close enough to grab his wrist and drag him out of the doorway, you do. A lazy smirk appears on your face upon spotting his necklace, and you greet him with a, “I didn’t actually think you would wear that.”

He unconsciously fiddles with the string around his neck. The beads are smooth against his fingers. “You bought it for me and told me to wear it.”

“Yeah, well, when have you ever listened to me?”

The corners of his lips quirk up as he presses his side against the wall. “I guess never,” he hums. He eyes you for a moment, pondering on what to say next before he decides to ask a question he already knows the answer to. “Did you just get here?”

“A few minutes ago,” you reply without any bite. “You?”

“Been here for two hours,” he sighs. “Me and Chan have been sitting on the couch because we were waiting for Seungkwan—”

“Oh! I saw him not too long ago. He went outside with a few of his other friends and some other people I don’t know. Heard them talking about beer pong.”

Vernon almost snickers at the memory of Seungkwan telling him over the phone that he’s going to practice beer pong to the point where he becomes unbeatable. Practice for frat parties, he had said.

The smallest of smiles appears on his face. “Of course he is.”

You stare at him for a few moments expecting something, but when Vernon doesn’t move a muscle, you raise an eyebrow. “Are you not going to join him?”

“Beer pong isn't really my thing.”

You take a sip of your drink. “Loser.” You smack your lips together, letting your taste buds get used to the fluid. Then, you confess, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

His head gently hits the wall. “What are you talking about? We saw each other yesterday.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I know, I was just observing something. That should be part of your little journal entry thing: Y/N Kwon is observant.”

Vernon’s cheek barely grazes the wall when he shakes his head. “I’m definitely not putting that into my notebook. I’m not just going to let you make stuff up about yourself and put it in,” he scoffs. “You’re far from observant.”

“That is absolutely not true!” you clamour. “I’m so observant! Like, did you know that you always mouth the words to songs on the radio no matter how much you claim you dislike them. Oh, and you do this thing with your face when you get confused— I don’t know how to explain it, but—but— oh, and you fiddle with the collar of your shirt a lot.”

Vernon’s lips are tempted to go against his brain. He’s tempted to laugh at your demeanour and chuckle at your ramblings, but then he glances down at the cup in your hand — similar to the one he’s holding now — and he realizes with a sigh that alcohol is the reason why your words lack their usual venom. And to think you’ve finally gotten over your petty little grudge.

You scowl at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason. You just have an eyelash on your cheek.”

You use your free hand to harshly rub at the skin underneath your eyes before you blink up at him. “Better?”

He scans your face, looking for something that was never really there. “Better.”

There’s barely anything left in your cup but you still take another sip, attempting to get every drop down your throat. Then, out of the blue, you ask him without hesitation, “Do you believe in love, Vernon?”

It’s a heavy question, but it’s one he should already have the answer to. After all, doesn’t believing in love fall under his job description? Shouldn’t he, top matchmaker for your town’s Soulmate Service, believe in fluttering hearts and butterflies in the pits of his stomach? Shouldn’t he believe in it despite its ups and downs and heartbreaks? Shouldn’t he look past its flaws and put his faith in it although he’s never experienced it in the first place?

It’s a heavy question and he doesn’t have an answer.

“Do you?”

Answer a question with a question of his own. Classic move.

“Yes,” you say. “I think I do.”

“What does that mean — you think you do?”

“Well, I just— I don’t know,” you heave a sigh, lazily dangling the rim of the cup between your fingers. “Believing in that sort of thing is written into my DNA. Mom and Dad fell in love, so did their parents, and their parents… love works out for us. And, like, I’m sure Soonyoung will love his soulmate the moment he meets them, but— I don’t know.”

His hands fly up to the necklace again, moving his fingers from bead to bead and shuffling the accessory around his neck. “Do you think you’ll love your soulmate if you ever met them?”

You still, thinking it over for a moment before clearing your throat. You opt not to answer his question, which he supposes is fair. “Random question,” you announce, although Vernon’s sure this question is something you’ve been thinking about for a while. “If you’ve loved someone your entire life but they aren’t your soulmate, do you think you would be able to fall in love with someone else? Do you think you could do that? Even if you can’t imagine yourself feeling like that for another person?”

“I don’t know,” he says softly. “I think you could if you tried.”

The gears in your head turn to the point where you’ve zoned out, unaware that your eyes are glimmering as you stare at him. Vernon’s lips suddenly feel chapped and his throat feels dry. When he licks his lips, you blink rapidly and straighten your posture at the same time as him.

There’s something about this party that’s messing with both your heads, he’s sure of it.

You stare at him for another moment before lifting your cup and shaking it beside your face. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

He doesn’t see you again for the rest of the night.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N KWON:

ENTRY TWELVE: July 13

Love is tricky. Maybe helping them get over Seokmin will be harder than I thought.

Wednesday, July 14 12:33 p.m.

moron: do you wanna have a day off today? so you can cure that hangover?

you: m not hungovre you: hungover

moron: ...yeah for sure

you: FUCK U i’m just tired you: please don’t bother me today

moron: okay i’ll just see you tmrw then ??

you: yeah yeah thank you thank you thank you you: do you need a fact or something to write in your notebook?

moron: oh? what’s this? you’re offering to help ME?? moron: 🚨🚨🚨 NEVER BEFORE SEEN!!!! 🚨🚨🚨

you: you’re a nuisance

moron: love you, kwon!!! Read 12:55 p.m.

JULY 15.

He’s toeing dangerous territory.

He should not be searching the attic in the late hours of the night, flipping through old photo albums stored in long-forgotten boxes. He should not wonder what went wrong with his parents when he knows what did. He should not be getting so caught up in what-ifs because his mother’s done it enough and he saw how it almost destroyed her.

Jealousy should not rush through him upon seeing happy couples on the streets. Jealousy is an ugly, ugly thing that will rip him to shreds if he isn’t careful and he shouldn’t let such a gnarly thing tear him from limb to limb.

He shouldn’t be fretting over the meanings behind double texts and impish smiles. He shouldn’t lay in bed at night as the moonlight slips through the crack in his blinds and think about a question he can’t answer.

Do you believe in love?

Shivers run up his spine until he realizes it’s not shivers, but water.

Of course he just had to space out during a water fight.

“Eat shit, Chwe!” you howl with laughter before it’s replaced with a yelp when the cold water from Seungkwan’s gun hits your leg. He chases you down the street, screaming to avenge his fallen friend, all while Vernon stands hopelessly by his downright awful hiding place behind the bush. He watches you shriek as you try to shoot Seungkwan with water. He notes how the sun brings out the warmth in your eyes, and how your footing is incredible for somebody running backwards.

Do you believe in love?

He doesn’t have an answer, but maybe he’ll have one soon enough.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY Y/N KWON:

ENTRY FOURTEEN: July 15

Terrible at water gun fights. Definitely blinded Seungkwan with their horrendous aim. (Seungkwan forgave them, though. Who wouldn’t?)

JULY 16.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“The fair is open to everyone.”

“No, yeah, I know,” Chan nods slowly, his eyes narrowing at you and Vernon. The latter takes a bite of his donut. “But why are you guys here? No, actually— why are you guys here together?”

You scrunch your nose. “He invited me to come so I did.”

“He invited you to come—” Chan scoffs. “This is unbelievable. I thought Jiwoo was only joking when she said you two were dating! Oh my God. I have to text her right now, why would she even—?”

Vernon almost drops his donut when you push him out of the way to grab Chan’s wrist. “We’re not dating!” he shakes your hand off and goes behind the counter of the booth to look for his phone. “Chan, we’re not! We’re here as—” you blink, glancing at Vernon briefly while thinking of a word to describe your relationship, “—colleagues.”

Chan stops the search for his phone. “Colleagues?”

You hesitate. “Yes.”

The boy stares, mind reeling as he tries to come up with a response. “Yeah,” he clicks his tongue, “I don’t believe that at all.”

You huff and your shoulders droop slightly before taking out some change and giving it to Chan. “Fair enough. A bag of donuts, please.”

Chan takes the money then turns to put the fresh donuts into a bag. When he hands it to you, he plasters a fake smile and pushes you away. “Have a good day! Please leave so I don’t have to endure you and Vernon’s mushiness. I’m here to work, not third-wheel.”

“What the fuck?”

Vernon grabs your wrist and turns you so you’re facing the rides. You miss just how quickly Chan’s displeased smile turns into a scarily knowing smirk, and the short glare Vernon gives him before he turns to face you. “We’re here to enjoy the fair, not argue with Chan,” he chastises, “so where are we off to first?”

You shake your wrist out of his grasp. “I don’t know. Anywhere’s fine.”

His fingers twitch by his side before he runs a hand through his hair. “The spinning teacups it is, then.”

“What— no— are you crazy?” you stammer, staring at him disbelievingly. “The last time I went on those things I had nightmares for two weeks! Those things have come straight from hell, Chwe. No— we’re going on the ferris wheel.”

The disgusted look he gives you tells you a thing or two about his thoughts on what you just said. “Okay, first of all: the spinning teacups are legendary. Second of all,” his eyebrows bunch together when you open your mouth to protest, “the ferris wheel is the most boring ride here.”

You start walking towards the rows of game booths, watching kids and teenagers alike attempt to win only to fail. The games have always been rigged, anyway. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you.”

Vernon groans, trailing after you like a kicked puppy. “Can you stop saying things like that? People are going to think you still hate me.”

“Good, because I do.” Chan must’ve laced his donut with something because Vernon’s sure you’re lying, which can’t be true because ever since kindergarten, you’ve been convinced he’s dead set on ruining your life. “And better that than people thinking we’re dating, right?”

“I don’t get why you’re so intent on denying that—”

“You’re not my boyfriend, Chwe,” you interject, rolling your eyes. “Of course I don’t want people thinking you are.”

Sarcastically, he comments, “Why are you so hellbent on hurting my feelings?” When you line up at the ring toss instead of answering, Vernon dusts the remaining cinnamon sugar onto his pants and says, “You know these things are rigged, right?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you mutter, digging into your pockets for change. “This is the only booth that gives you that giant elephant if you win, and Seokmin’s been wanting one since he was fifteen, but he has lousy aim, so...”

Vernon stiffens momentarily. You’ve gotten into the habit of casually mentioning Seokmin ever since the fourth — at first, it was just absentmindedly throwing his name into the conversation whenever high school was brought up, but then it gradually turned into pointing out his favourite ice cream place and what movie he would watch when he’s sad. At this point, Vernon’s sure you’re going backwards in terms of getting over him, and if this keeps happening, you’re never going to like the person Vernon sets you up with by the end of the month.

Which is quite sad, since Vernon spent all of last night trying to find people who would best suit you. What a waste of time.

You throw the first ring and miss. Then the second, then the third. The bored teenager behind the counter gives you an insincere smile before calling the next person to come up. When you meet Vernon’s eyes, you immediately scowl.

He grows defensive quickly. “I didn’t even do anything!”

“You were supposed to cheer me on!” you argue. You continue your trek around the carnival and he unknowingly lets you lead him towards the ferris wheel. “What’s going on with you, anyway? You’re always spacing out.”

“Just thinking.”

“What could possibly be happening in that hollow head of yours?”

He doesn’t seem too offended by your statement. Maybe it’s because your words are lacking in acidity, which you’ve noticed keeps on happening, no matter how much you try to worm just a touch of poison. “I was watching this movie earlier and it was just really sad, and it had me thinking if you just — I don’t know — believed in love?”

You take a bite of your donut. “Never took you to be the rom-com type of guy.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Once you’re sure there’s no more mini donuts in the brown paper bag, you drop it into the nearest trash can you pass by. “Of course I believe in love,” you scoff. “Why? Don’t tell me you don’t. I’m putting my trust in you to set me up with the perfect person and you’re telling me you don’t even believe in—”

“I do,” he says quickly. You won’t be able to tell if he’s lying because he isn’t sure if he is. “I do believe in it. I was just asking you a question. No need to get defensive.”

“You know, we aren’t close enough to be having these types of conversations,” you tut. “Next thing you know, you’re going to ask me if I believe in fate.”

“Well, do you?”

“Do you not?”

“I do,” he replies. You side-eye him skeptically. “Of course I do.”

He notes in his head that maybe you don’t remember the conversation you had with him at the party a few nights ago.

Upon noticing that the line to the ferris wheel is short, you tug on his sleeve and drag him there, ignoring the way his confused blubbering turns into childish whines. Both of you are sitting in one of the carts in no time, and when you let go of his arm, he finally shuts up.

“We could’ve gone to the teacups,” he mumbles under his breath, staring outside.

“We just ate donuts. There’s no way I’m gonna go on that ride with a full stomach,” you say drily. “Besides, once the ride starts you feel like you’re on top of the world. And you can see my house from here!” To prove your point, you jab your finger out the window once the ride starts moving.

Vernon narrows his eyes. “That’s definitely not your house.”

“Close enough,” you shrug. “It’s nice up here, don’t look so upset — look, the sun is setting!”

“How romantic.”

You glance at him with a disagreeing frown. The cart shakes whenever you stomp your feet on it excitedly and he’s sitting in a spot where he’s positive the sun’s glare is ruining his eyesight. When the ferris wheel stops, the both of you aren’t at the top, but instead underneath the cart that is. Vernon wonders if the people there are loving this ride as much as he’s hating it.

Ferris wheels are boring. They’re cliché and overrated and lack the excitement factor that he’s always searching for. It fails to give him the adrenaline he so desperately needs in his system because this ride is made for those who enjoy the outside view, whereas Vernon really couldn’t care less.

But there’s something about the way you point at the booths you passed by and the rides you have yet to go on. The smile on your face is something he’s seen from afar, but he’s never on the receiving end of. Up close, he realizes that there’s a faint dimple on your left cheek that only appears when your lips tug upwards, and when he looks away he can’t stop thinking about it.

The ferris wheel moves again. When you look at him, a smile still apparent, for a crestfallen moment he expects it to disappear. But it doesn’t fall, nor does it waver. Instead, it grows a little wider.

Vernon thinks he feels lighter.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N KWON:

ENTRY FIFTEEN: July 16

Pretty at every hour of the day but especially prettier under the glow of the sunset.

Hates the spinning teacups. (SHAME!)

JULY 17.

Vernon will never understand why people love rain.

The humidity is appalling as it is, and when it’s mixed with rain, the outdoors grows a little more suffocating. The moisture in the air kills his insides and makes his head spin and he wonders why people enjoy running out their houses and splashing in puddles while the water soaks them head to toe. Sweat mixes with raindrops, mud sticks to the bottoms of shoes, and yet people love it.

A long time ago, Vernon noticed he associates weather with people. His mother is skies filled to the brim with dull, grey clouds and brief zephyr. Seungkwan is the days where the sun is too bright, the breeze is lacking, and the only comfort anybody can find is under the trees. Chan is days where the wind just won’t quit, and the gust of air is enough to send someone over the edge. His father is rain. It fits him — the stifling air and the raindrops falling from clouds filled with despair.

On a good day, his dad is a man who goes to work everyday with the comforting thought that he has the respect of his colleagues. He has pictures of the annual office Christmas parties sitting on his desk and pens he buys on periodic business trips are all kept in a mug he doesn’t remember receiving. He is, without a doubt, good at his job, and he loves the praise that comes along with it; the claps on his back and the invitations to personal parties outside of work. On a good day, he’s perfect.

On a bad day, he’s a man with a family.

A man with a wife he fell out of love with a long time ago and a son who draws superheroes on paper but his family on walls, because he wants to see them whenever he walks by.

Vernon feels a surge of anger at the thought of his dad. He glares at the clouds and he wonders why people love this weather because all it ever reminds him of is pain.

Then there’s a laugh. It’s melodic and loud until it’s interrupted by the raindrops landing in your eyes. You sputter, rubbing at your eyelids before shutting them and letting the rain hit your face. You two were supposed to enjoy a day at the park, but it started pouring out of nowhere, and when Vernon suggested to just go back to his house, you insisted on staying.

The rain tickles your face and sticks to the fabric of your clothing when you turn to him and laugh at his sour expression. You tell him, eyes lively, to stop looking so upset, and then you’re grabbing his hand and dragging him around the park, having no regard for the mud.

He wants to go back to his car. He’s going to ruin his shoes and he wants to leave because the rain reminds him of his father and he doesn’t want to be upset over somebody who abandoned him when he’s here with you.

But then you give him that smile again, the same one he saw yesterday at the fair, and he feels the words die in his throat.

“What’s going on with you?” you ask him, blinking to get rid of the water on your eyelashes.

He watches as confusion clouds your vision and then he shrugs. He doesn’t know.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N KWON:

ENTRY SIXTEEN: July 17

There’s this thing about them, like they can brighten up something without meaning to. Like the flowers blooming in spring while it’s raining.

Sunday, July 18 10:09 a.m.

you: requesting for a day off today

moron: wtf why

you: something came up

moron: … am i allowed to ask what

you: oh yeah it’s nothing bad you: seokmin just asked if i could help him with something so

moron: seokmin?

you: yes lee seokmin you: my brother’s friend ????

moron: no yeah i know

you: ok lol u just sounded confused

moron: we’re texting

you: 🙄 U KNOW WHAT I MEAN. you: i’ll text you later tho or something. if i remember to

moron: yeah sounds good 👍

Sunday, July 18 22:47 p.m.

you: damn it’s been 12hrs you: me and seokmin’s call ended a while ago but i forgot to text you sorry you: is it gonna be an early morning tmr?

Sunday, July 18 23:04 p.m.

you: okayyy i’m assuming ur sleeping you: u didn’t even say goodnight!!! the lack of decency you have is appalling you: see u tmrw tho Delivered

JULY 22.

Contrary to the message you sent him on the eighteenth, you didn’t see Vernon the next day. Or the day after that. You’ve been Chwe-less for four days which, strangely, is an all-time record — even when he was still a nuisance, Vernon had unknowingly weaselled his way into your everyday life. And you figured that he was going to keep avoiding you, because the look on his face when you enter the Soulmate Service tells you he wasn’t planning on texting you anytime soon.

Jiwoo walks in before you do, holding a Tupperware with fried chicken to give to Winn, and you stand off to the side, watching her make conversation with other employees while she waits for him to come out from the back. Vernon does his best to stay busy, reorganizing pamphlets and dusting off the counter to avoid looking at you.

He’s never been good with confrontation.

He’s so caught up in making sure to avoid you that he doesn’t notice Jiwoo is standing right in front of him until she’s snapping her fingers.

Vernon’s careful not to hit the rack of magazines he just finished setting up. “Hey.”

“Hey!” Jiwoo says enthusiastically with a touch of skepticism. “I feel like I haven’t heard about you in forever.”

He frowns. “I saw you this morning.”

“No, yeah, I know,” she nods, briefly glancing over her shoulder to make sure you aren’t eavesdropping on their conversation. Vernon sees that you’re currently talking to Tessa, a red-haired girl around twenty-two, who’s also waiting for Winn. He’s been in the back for a while now, trying to figure out what to do about one of his flaky clients.

(“It’s so cliché,” Winn scoffed earlier while he was examining some papers, “this guy is, like, incapable of letting himself feel anything. Typical afraid-to-fall-in-love trope. It’s nauseating.”

Vernon had laughed, simply agreeing, although a pool of shame swam in his stomach.)

“I just meant,” Jiwoo adds, pursing her lips, “that Y/N hasn’t complained about you in so long. Which is weird, since you’ve always been a conversation topic — even more so now because you’re… you know.”

Vernon nods awkwardly. “Right.”

Jiwoo eyes him, clearly expecting more than his clipped response, but continues anyway, “I never properly thanked you for doing this — God, what would you even call this? — matchmaking thing?” she ponders over her choice of words before nodding. “I know Y/N complained a lot about the whole getting to know them thing — and I admit I thought it was a waste of time since their birthday is in a couple weeks — but I think this is good for them! And for you, too.”

Vernon, rooted to his spot, barely manages to say, “Sorry?”

“Well, you know what heartbreak does to a person,” Jiwoo explains. “Though Y/N will never admit they’re sad because of pride or whatever. I don’t know, I personally think it’s stubbornness—”

“No, I meant the other thing,” Vernon says quickly, his eyes flitting over to you, who has managed to slip away from Tessa’s less than riveting ramblings. “About their birthday?”

“Oh! Right!” the girl in front of him hums. “It’s on August second. Speaking of, I’m throwing a not-so-surprise surprise party that day, so you can drop by if you want! I’m sure Y/N would want you there.”

“Um, I don’t know—”

“Just come,” Jiwoo licks her lips. She knows he’s going to decline — for a reason she’s not entirely sure — but attempts to stop him from doing so. “They’ll want you there. They’ll say pretend your presence is needed for the whole get to know you plan you came up with, but I think it’s bec— oh! There’s Winn!” she moves to the side, nearly shoving Vernon on her way to the counter, quickening her pace to beat Tessa there. “I’ll talk to you later, Ver— move!”

You snicker as Jiwoo huffs at Tessa before you take a seat on one of the chairs.

Vernon fiddles with the sleeves of his sweater and contemplates the two options weighing down on him. He could stay where he is, avert his attention to the mess two kids had made by the entrance, or maybe to the greasy fingerprints staining the mirrors. He could forget everything Jiwoo just told him and be on his merry way back behind the counter and pretend thoughts of you don’t plague his mind like a virus.

Or he could talk to you while you wait for Jiwoo to finish arguing with one of the customers.

He decides to do the latter.

The moment he enters your line of sight, he thinks something flickers in your eyes. Or maybe there’s something wrong with the lights — he’s been bugging Winn to do something about that.

(He concludes that it’s the lights. False hope almost ruined his mother, he will not let that happen to him, too.)

“And to think I finally got rid of you,” you drawl.

Vernon smiles.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N:

ENTRY TWENTY-ONE: July 22

Birthday: August 2

JULY 23.

Seven A.M., Vernon sends you the first message since the eighteenth. Seven-thirty A.M., he pulls into your driveway to find you already waiting for him on the doorstep.

He rolls his window down and greets you with a smile. “You’re up early.”

“You told me you were coming,” you fire back, tugging at the hem of your sleeves. “Where are we even going?”

“Nowhere,” he responds, and then brings the window back up. The gaze he gives you is expecting, waiting for you to either enter the car or protest like you always do at this hour in the morning.

You surprise both him and yourself when you do the former, buckling in your seatbelt before kicking your feet up onto the dashboard. Beside you, Vernon stares, waiting for you to complain and leave the car or to pester him about where he’s taking you. When you do nothing except turn the radio on (you pick the country station to spite him), Vernon shifts the gear to reverse and backs out of the driveway.

You don’t say anything for the first few minutes of the ride, afraid that your voice will push him away. You tell yourself you’re worried because the future of your love life has unfortunately landed in the palms of Vernon’s hands, but you remember the feeling you got every time you woke up with your phone void of his usual chirpy good morning messages, and you realize there’s more to your worry than you’re letting yourself believe.

Terrified, your fingers twist the dial of the radio and bring the volume up.

“Are you not going to ask where we’re going?”

You don’t reply for a while, and Vernon assumes it’s either because you didn’t hear him — why did you have to make the volume so loud? — or because you’re ignoring him. After Dolly Parton’s voice is replaced with a commercial, you say, “I did when you got to my house. You decided to be a prick and say nowhere.”

He frowns. “Why are you calling me a prick?”

“Because you are,” you say simply. Your eyes wander to the trees outside. “You know there’s nothing on this side of town, right?”

“Yes,” he rolls his eyes. “Can you get your feet off my dashboard?”

You comply, only to slip your shoes off and bring your knees to your chest. You lose yourself in the surroundings, watching the outside turn into a blur of blue and green; the breeze from the air conditioning calms you while the silence that blankets you two does not.

You never asked Vernon why he fell off the face of the earth or why you never got an explanation about his sudden disappearance in the first place. No text, no hello, not even one of those obnoxious cat GIFs he always sends you in the middle of the night. The curiosity climbs up your throat like bile, and you think you might choke on the concern if you bottle it up.

“Where have you been these past four days?”

Vernon’s grip tightens on the steering wheel before he feigns a nonchalant shrug. “I just got busy,” he says. He glances at you, sees that you’re expecting more than his half-assed reply. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

They say curiosity killed the cat, but that wasn’t so bad, right?

“It’s whatever,” you mutter. “Not like I was worried or anything.” You were definitely worried.

Vernon only smiles, and after a few moments, he pulls into a gas station. “I’m gonna go fill up the tank, you can go inside and get some snacks.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt when he unbuckles his. “For what?”

“Well, typically, when someone gets hungry, they eat food.”

“Fuck you,” you say, not unkindly. “I still don’t know what you’re planning on making me do today, and I’d like to know.”

“We’re just driving around. To do that, though, we need a full tank,” Vernon replies simply. He shoves a ten dollar bill into your hand. “That should be enough to buy a few things — chop, chop, Kwon, we don’t have all day.”

You scowl at him as you open the door. “Don’t boss me around, Chwe.”

When you enter the store, lazily greeting the clerk behind the counter who only gives you a half-hearted hum in response, you make your way towards the first aisle you spot, which only happens to be the candy aisle. You try to refrain from getting too many things, opting to play eenie-meenie when you have trouble picking which candies to get and which ones to not.

Tucking a pack of sour straws against your side, you walk out of the candy aisle in case you lose any ounce of self-control you have left, and make your way towards the rack of chips on sale until you notice a display of shirts near the front counter. A mischievous smile appears on your lips, and you grab the closest shirt you see then drop your stuff in front of the clerk to pay.

The clerk, dressed in a tacky red polo shirt, has absolutely no right to give you a judgemental stare after they see the shirt. “Nice choice.”

You purse your lips. “It’s for my friend.”

“Ah,” the clerk nods understandingly, then juts their head to Vernon, who stands outside, whistling under his breath. “Best friends or just friends?”

Frowning, you ask, “What’s the difference?”

“Well,” the clerk starts, dropping your items into a bag, “surely you know. You just stiffened and you keep on glancing over at him as if he can hear this conversation.”

“I’m not!” you exclaim defensively.

“From your reaction I’m assuming it’s just friends,” they observe. “How would you like to pay today?”

You slam the ten dollar bill onto the counter and grab the bag from the clerk’s hands. “Keep the change. Have a nice day.” You huff, stomping out of the store and making your way towards the car, entering it without giving Vernon a nod of acknowledgement.

The boy raises an eyebrow at your demeanour. After what feels like hours — two minutes — he slips inside the car and dreadfully decides to ask what all the huffing and puffing is about. “What’s going on with you?”

“The worker is awful,” you pout your lips. “I’m gonna give this hellhole a bad review on Yelp.”

Vernon stops himself from rolling his eyes. “Stop being so dramatic.” He hands you his palm, wriggling his fingers ardently. “Where’s the change?”

“I don’t have any.”

“How much stuff did you buy?”

“Just some sour straws and a family size bag of chips. And something else. Told the clerk to keep the change.”

“What the fuck?” Vernon’s jaw goes slack. “You don’t just do that! You just said that clerk was bad! And what if I needed that?”

You go digging through the bag and unfold the shirt. “I hope this makes up for it, though! Isn’t it cute?”

“Keep Calm and Love California?” Vernon reads the shirt then wrinkles his nose. “You wasted my money to buy yourself a shirt? A corny one, too — I thought they stopped putting Keep Calm on everything after 2016.”

“It isn’t for me, dumbass,” you shake your head, holding up the shirt next to his face. “It’s for you!”

Vernon pushes the fabric away from him. “What makes you think I would want that?”

“It’s funny,” you shrug, shoving the shirt back into the plastic bag. “And the blue brings out your eyes.”

If you notice his lips parting and the soft glance he throws your way, you don’t say anything about it. He doesn’t reply to you either, instead staring out the window to hide the blood rushing up to his cheeks.

Ripping the bag of sour straws open, you ask, “Where are we going for lunch?”

Vernon snaps out of his daze. “Uh, there’s a McDonald’s near here,” he answers, driving the car back onto the road. You don’t question how near it could possibly be, since there’s barely anything where the two of you are now. Just plain fields and the occasional cow sightings. “Don’t eat all of those sour straws.”

Chewing obnoxiously on the candy and ignoring his comment, you say, “Hey, I was thinking a few days ago about this whole thing.” You wait for him to reply, but he only nods for you to continue. “And since my birthday’s coming up soon — it’s on the second, you better get me something — maybe we should halt this matchmaking thing? Just in case I meet my soulmate on my birthday — which I doubt, but…”

Vernon clenches his jaw. “It could happen.” He tries to be assuring. “I’ve heard of people who met their soulmates on day one.”

“But the chances are slim,” you drum your fingers on your thigh. “You agree though, right? You’ll stop your whole waking me up early and all that note-taking in your notebook just until my birthday?”

“Definitely not,” he counters without a moment of hesitation. “But here’s what I’ll offer: I won’t set you up until after your birthday.”

“Fine,” you relent.

He gives you a brief smile. “Common ground.” He gestures to the pack of sour straws on your lap. “Gimme, I wanna have at least one before you eat them all.”

You roll your eyes but give him one nonetheless. When he takes a bite, the sugar is bitter — and so is his heart.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N:

ENTRY TWENTY-TWO: July 23

DO NOT TRUST WITH MY MONEY!!!

Saturday, July 25 23:06 p.m.

moron: new movie just came out on netflix moron: seungkwan told me it’s HORRIBLE!!! do you wanna watch???

you: … but seungkwan said it’s bad

moron: well YEAH but watching bad movies is so fun moron: it’s a real self-esteem booster, i’m telling you

you: are you implying i have horrible self-esteem?

moron: don’t we all?

you: got me there you: send me a netflix party invite ❤️

moron: ????

you: WRONG EMOJI

moron: aww you love me that’s so cute moron: but i have to tell you, kwon… i’m afraid i can’t return the feelings

you: i’m setting your car on fire as we speak

moron: please do not say stuff like that. it actually almost happened once and it was the most traumatic experience of my life. my car + fire hits very close to home, do not joke about that

you: [image attached] you: got the gasoline

moron: PELASE STAY AWYA FEOM MY CAR Read 23:34 p.m.

JULY 26.

On a day where the sun refuses to set but the breeze is just right, you find yourself sitting cross-legged across from Vernon Chwe at the playground that started it all. Except the sandbox is occupied by Jiwoo, Chan, and Seungkwan — the former of which doesn’t care about getting sand on her white shorts — and you and Vernon have situated yourselves at the top of the wooden playground structure.

Nostalgia hits you like a truck. You remember that you would always stand here, proclaiming yourself ruler of the world until the bell rang and you had to slide down the pole to run back to class. You remember falling every time you went on the monkey bars and the familiar burn you felt on your skin whenever you went down the slide. You remember the sandbox, littered with colourful pails and shovels, and the boy you helped because you thought he was lonely.

Vernon’s notebook lies beside him, and you suddenly realize that you don’t know as much as he knows about you. You know the simple things — like he loves mint chocolate ice cream and he’s more of a dog person than a cat one — but it feels like it isn’t enough. It feels as if he knows the veins underneath your skin, the beating of your heart, and the ivory of your bones, but all you know about him is his untamed hair and big smile. He’s spent so long observing you with the intent of getting to know you that he knows every detail you hide under the surface, and there’s a queasy feeling you get in your stomach when you realize that you can’t say the same.

And so begins the game of twenty questions.

“This is a very important question,” you announce, leaning forward. Vernon looks bored, wanting to move on from this game to another, but he has yet to make a protest. “On a first date, would you rather go to a gaming café or a dog one?”

“Dog one,” he answers simply. “My turn. Math or science?”

You frown. “That’s such an awful question.”

“I don’t even know why you’re insisting on playing this game,” he says. “What difference does it make if you know my favourite colour or not?”

Your back hits the wood. “Nothing,” you mumble, “but it’d be nice to know, right?”

He gives you a confused smile, indicating that he still doesn’t follow. It’s stupid that you’re playing twenty questions with a boy you’ve known since before you hit double-digits, but to you, Vernon has always been nothing more than a pain in the ass. Someone who created spitballs and launched it at your head when the teacher wasn’t looking, someone who always showed up to school with bruises from his skateboard and cuts on his arm. Someone who sat three seats to your left and two rows down from you in Mr Winston’s History class.

You remember your graduation ceremony, when you took your high school diploma and looked amongst the sea of faces in the crowd. You spotted Jiwoo, whooping and cheering, and Seokmin and Soonyoung were yelling to the point where you thought they would be kicked out. Your parents were taping the whole thing on camera, and you were sure the video would be uploaded onto Facebook by the time you got home.

But you only spotted Vernon after the ceremony at an after-party, not when you were onstage, looking for people who made your chest swell with pride — who are important to you — because just a few months ago, you didn’t care about Vernon Chwe.

But today, here, you do, and you wonder when all that changed.

You stretch your legs, feet hitting his. “Whatever. Math,” you say, answering his question. “My turn. Do you think, if you weren’t such an asshole in kindergarten, we would’ve been friends?”

“You mean if I didn’t take credit for the sandcastle?” he wonders, to which you nod your head. “Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe. It’s kind of hard to imagine us being friends. Still feels unreal that you’re looking at me right now and you don’t look like you’re about to rip my head off.”

“Careful there,” you hum. “If you keep saying stuff like that I might get the idea that you’re in love with me.”

“Shut up.” He flicks a pebble at you but ends up missing. “My turn! When did you start believing in love?”

“What the hell? Why are you asking me such a deep question?”

“Because you got mad at my other one!”

“Because it was terrible—”

“It was not!” he huffs and gently kicks the soles of your shoes. “Answer the question.”

You click your tongue and play with your bottom lip, pondering your answer. “Um, I guess ever since I was small? I’ve been surrounded by it my entire life, I was kind of forced to believe in it — well, not forced, but you get what I mean. But on top of that, I just thought the idea of soulmates was so fascinating, you know? Like, the universe just picks a person for you.”

“Right,” Vernon says softly. “But sometimes people don’t fall in love. Sometimes people don’t want to.”

“Well, yeah,” you mumble, “but I just thought the idea was cool and everything. You turn eighteen and the universe grants you its red string, and the other person tied to you is who you’re meant to be with — the perfect person.”

He tugs at his fingers. “Sometimes the perfect person isn’t the perfect person, Kwon.”

You pout. “Yes, I know, I’m just saying! Why do you keep saying stuff like that — you’re going to make me think you don’t believe in love.”

“I don’t believe in soulmates.”

This causes you to straighten and sit upright. “What?”

He bites the inside of his cheek. “I just don’t believe the universe has picked the right person for me.”

“What makes you think that?”

There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. It’s gentle, anguished, and dull all at the same time.

“Just a feeling.”

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N:

ENTRY TWENTY-FIVE: July 26

(Too?) Passionate about the universe’s ability to tether them to a perfect individual. Might be so caught up in the ideology of a flawless specimen that they’ll meet their soulmate only to be disappointed.

JULY 28.

Vernon really would rather be doing anything else other than sitting on Jiwoo’s porch helping her plan a not-so-surprise surprise party, but here he is, notebook by his side, as the girl scrolls through Pinterest on her laptop. He’s not surprised to find out that she has a whole board made exclusively for occasions like these — what he is surprised about is that she says she needs his help.

“Should we back the cake ourselves or pay someone else to do it?” Jiwoo moves to stretch her legs. There’s red marks on her skin from the wood. “Maybe we could convince Chan to bake something — you think we could scam him into making it without paying him?”

“No,” Vernon replies. “We definitely wouldn’t be able to scam him. I’ll worry about that, though. What’s Y/N’s favourite cake?”

“Red velvet,” Jiwoo answers before going back to look at her laptop. “Okay, so we have the cake, the venue—”

“We have the venue already?”

“Yeah — have you not been paying attention at all?” Jiwoo scoffs with a shake of her head. “It’s at my aunt’s place just a few houses from here; she’s out of town.”

Vernon glances over his shoulder then nods. “That’s it then, right? I can go home now?” he moves to stand up but Jiwoo’s quick to grab his wrist. “Jiwoo, I have to meet Y/N in, like, ten minutes—”

“Just text them that you’ll be late,” Jiwoo suggests. “I just need your help with one more thing.”

Vernon huffs and moves to grab his phone, distracted enough for Jiwoo to shuffle in the corner of his eye without raising too much suspicion and grabbing his notebook. He vigorously types across the keypad as messages from you continue to come in, and he doesn’t notice Jiwoo’s flipping through his observations until he looks up the same moment she shoves the notebook in his chest.

“Ow—!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Vernon repeats, examining his phone to make sure his last text to you was sent. “What’s wrong with you— were you reading the notebook?”

“I needed birthday present ideas, Vernon,” Jiwoo replies, scooting back when he furrows his eyebrows. “I thought your notebook was gonna help because I assumed the facts you’d have in there was stuff like oh, they mentioned how they love this pretty necklace or they said that when they were younger they always wanted a Squishmallow, but the stuff you have in there is not helpful at all! Well, not helpful to me, maybe more for you—”

“Because it’s supposed to be for me,” Vernon squabbles. “Why would you even need this notebook anyway? They’re your best friend.”

Jiwoo rests her arms on her knees. “I wanted to get them something extra special,” she says. “I’ll worry about the present later, though. Vernon, you seriously have a problem.”

“What?”

“I was only joking about you and them falling in love but,” she pauses, gauging his reaction, “I guess I wasn’t that far off.”

Vernon’s eyes almost pop out of his skull. “What are you talking about?”

Jiwoo doesn’t answer his question. Instead, she says, “Aren’t you supposed to be finding them a summer fling?”

“I am.”

“Okay,” Jiwoo starts reluctantly, testing the waters to see if her next question will push him away. They’ve lived side-by-side for over ten years — she knows what scares him and what doesn’t. “Then why is the stuff you have written down telling me otherwise? Don’t tell me you’ve actually caught feelings.”

His stomach twists. “I haven’t.”

Jiwoo purses her lips and stares at him for a moment before her eyes travel down to his hands. “When’s your birthday again, Vernon?”

He doesn’t answer because she knows.

His phone dings and another notification from you appears on the screen. He glares at Jiwoo and stands up, grasping his notebook as if his life depends on it. As if all his secrets will spill from the pages if he so much as loosens his grip.

“I have to go,” he mutters begrudgingly. “I’ll see you later.”

He walks down the steps and starts the short journey back to his front door when Jiwoo calls for him. He stops, already halfway across Jiwoo’s front lawn, where cigarette butts litter the yellowing grass and weeds sprout up from beneath the ground.

Jiwoo’s voice echoes. “Just don’t get yourself hurt.”

The grip on his belongings tighten. Then he promises, “I won’t,” although he isn’t quite sure if he’ll be able to keep it.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N:

ENTRY TWENTY-FIVE: July 26

Their favourite cake is red velvet.

Tuesday, July 27 03:02 a.m.

moron: why are you sending me snaps

you: can’t sleep

moron: ah i see

you: yeah it’s awful 😒 you: how about you? can’t sleep as well?

moron: no i just binge-watched a ton of movies

you: …

moron: hey if you want we can facetime and i can talk with you until you fall asleep moron: i can sing you some lullabies… read you some bedtime stories… count sheep with you

you: ok no i don’t want you singing to me you: but we can facetime

moron: really ?????

you: yeah it’s not like i have anything better to do

moron: didn’t actually think you’d agree to that

you: ? why

moron: no reason moron: calling u rn Read 03:15 a.m.

JULY 31.

WELCOME HOME SEOKMIN AND SOONYOUNG!

Although you haphazardly threw this poster together and you didn’t bother to make sure all the letters fit (the last two letters of Soonyoung’s name are squished into the side. For your sake, you’re going to pretend it looks like it says Soonyoung, not Soonyou), you’re still proud of it. Glitter stains your fingers and glue has gotten onto your favourite pair of fuzzy pajama pants, but you still put a smile on your face when the familiar beat-down car pulls into the driveway.

The first thing Soonyoung does when his foot hits the concrete is stare at the lopsided g of his name. He doesn’t greet you with a hello because he briefly seems to have forgotten that you haven’t seen him in weeks, and instead greets you with an annoyed: “Why is Seokmin’s name first?”

You almost drop the poster. “Hi to you too.”

“No, seriously,” Soonyoung shuts the door of his car and examines the poster before gently taking it from your hands. “Why is he first? I’m your brother, I should be first — hey, Seok, look at this.”

In all his glory, Seokmin steps out of the car and lugs a red duffel bag over his shoulder. He smiles at you. “Hey,” he says, then looks at Soonyoung. “Oh, did you make this? It’s so nice, love the amount of glitter that you used— does that say Soonyou?”

You smile sheepishly. “I ran out of room.”

Soonyoung turns the poster around so he’s staring at it yet again, and then he looks up at you with an unappreciative frown. “Do you have no respect for me at all?” he asks overdramatically, and you can’t believe you ever missed this. “Seriously? Soonyou?”

“Just be glad I made a poster in the first place, ungrateful prick.”

Soonyoung flicks your forehead then shuffles over to walk through the open door. “Are Mom and Dad here?”

“They went out to get some food,” you answer, stepping in after Seokmin and Soonyoung do. “Jiwoo’s here, though.”

“Wonderful,” your brother drawls, slipping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen where Jiwoo places two toasted pop tarts onto a plate. “My sibling doesn’t put half of my name on the ‘Welcome Home’ poster, Mom and Dad aren’t home when I get here, and Jiwoo’s eating all the pop tarts.”

Jiwoo licks her thumb and, without looking up, says, “Hi, Soonyoung. Hi, Seokmin.”

Soonyoung places his car keys onto the counter and looks at everything with a genuine smile before his eyes meet Seokmin’s. “Home sweet home.”

“Cheeseball,” you snort, taking the poster from your brother and placing it next to his car keys. “How long are you guys here for?”

“Until the last week of August,” Seokmin replies, glancing at Soonyoung for confirmation before turning back to you and nodding. He leans over to take a piece of Jiwoo’s pop tart. “Anything we missed while we were gone?”

Jiwoo gives Seokmin a warning look when he tries to take more of her food. “Nothing much. Y/N’s really grown a lot, though,” she grins at your raised eyebrows. “They’ve finally let go of their petty grudges.”

Seokmin hops onto the counter. “Oh, are you talking about Vernon?” he opens the cabinet beside his head to shuffle through the food in hopes of finding something to snack on. You’re glad you hid all of your gummy bears in your room before they arrived. “How’s that going, by the way? Are you guys serious? Is he your soulmate?”

You blink. “We’re not dating.”

Both boys ignore your comment. “Y/N’s birthday isn’t until Monday,” Soonyoung sticks his head into the fridge and opens a can of LaCroix.

“Okay, let me rephrase then: do you think he’s your soulmate?”

“Oh, imagine how cute that would be. You’re not sure if he’s your soulmate but then, when you turn eighteen,” Soonyoung grins from ear-to-ear as he watches you struggle to interject. The devilry in his eyes does nothing to ease you, “the string’s already gold.”

You might strangle Soonyoung right then and there. He can’t seem to remember the food he needed to buy at the grocery store or why he walked into a room, but he’ll remember a conversation he had with his sibling when they were sixteen. You bite your tongue and discreetly flip him off.

Seokmin furrows his eyebrows. “Um, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Well, then they’ll defy the universe!”

Your eye twitches. If you could, you’d go back in time and prevent that conversation from ever happening.

Jiwoo glances at you and then starts to shift the conversation while you look out the window and spot Vernon walking towards your door. Quickly, you turn to make sure nobody’s noticed you focussed your attention on something else, but Seokmin already follows your line of sight and he grins.

The first time he grinned like that was on the last day of first grade when everyone had to put all of their art projects into their bags to take them home. Seokmin and Soonyoung, who ventured from their classroom to yours, had decided it would be hilarious to dump their water into your backpack and ruin the drawing you’d been boasting about for weeks. It was an awful thing to do — you wouldn’t stop crying on the way home — and the two of them were grounded for a week.

He grinned like that in fifth grade too, when he brought Soonyoung a cupcake and sang happy birthday to him before smashing it in his face. He grinned like that in middle school when you told him you liked Joshua Hong to get him off your back, and he created a cheesy WILL YOU GO OUT TO THE DANCE WITH ME? poster on your behalf and gave it to him.

He’s grinning like that now.

Seokmin practically jumps off the counter and shouts an excuse to Soonyoung about grabbing his things while you follow after him, saying you’ll help. You nearly trip on your own two feet when putting on your Dad’s Crocs and racing after Seokmin to make sure he doesn’t say anything to Vernon that’ll embarrass you.

Vernon’s tilting his head at Soonyoung’s car, wondering about its familiarity, before widening his eyes at the sight of Seokmin walking hastily towards him and you not far behind.

“Hi,” Seokmin says, all smiles and optimism. “I’m Seokmin.”

Vernon has to blink multiple times before nodding and shaking Seokmin’s hand. “I’m Vernon.”

Seokmin is still smiling while you place your hand on your knees and try to catch your breath. “I’m aware!” Before the conversation can turn awkward, he adds, “I heard you’re dating Y/N! That’s great — I know how much of a handful they can be.”

You hit his arm. “I’m right here.”

He ignores you. “I wish I could say I’ve heard such good things about you, but Y/N’s always complained, because they used to hate you and everything.” Seokmin shoves his hands into his pockets, and his eyes glint because he has yet to proclaim the last part of his piece that you assume will only punch you in the gut. “But — what was the saying again? — there’s a fine line between love and hate?”

Vernon’s lips part and he looks over at you in hopes to get a hint of what to say. You’re too busy trying to wrap your head around Seokmin’s last sentence. “Um,” Vernon chuckles nervously, “we’re not dating.”

You nod slowly. “We’re friends, Seokmin.”

“Ah,” Seokmin hums, throwing a look of embarrassment, but you know him well enough to pick it apart. Usually, Seokmin does things without thinking, but you’re sure there’s an ulterior motive to this conversation. He’s testing a theory and making sure it’s right. “That’s my bad, then.”

He salutes, makes a short comment about going back inside and pats you on the shoulder. You inhale, patiently waiting for the ache to come. But your heartbeat remains steady and you think, for the first time since you’ve known Seokmin, you can finally breathe.

Once Seokmin’s out of earshot, you turn to Vernon. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Vernon eyes your front door. “He’s back?”

“Only for a couple weeks,” you reply. “Why are you here?”

“I thought we could hang out,” he takes a step back and gestures towards Soonyoung’s car and then towards your house. “But if you want to catch up with them, that’s fine, I can just text you later.”

“No, actually—” you bite your tongue and search Vernon’s expectant gaze. “We can hangout. I’ll see them later, anyways.”

Vernon waits for you to change your mind — he gives you plenty of time to do so, too, and when you show no sign of going back, his lips quirk up to form a small smile. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, falling into step beside him. “Where to?”

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N:

ENTRY THIRTY: July 31

They consider me a friend? No, I am not smiling like an idiot right now.

AUGUST 1.

Vernon doesn’t expect to spill his heart out to you with one hour left until August second, but here he sits, grass tickling his calves and eyes sprinkled with stars, and then the words fall from his lips like a bottle overflowing with water.

“I don’t believe in soulmates because it didn’t work out for my parents,” he says softly. He’s afraid if he talks any louder, the entire neighbourhood will hear. “My mom doesn’t like talking about it so I don’t know the entire thing, I just— they loved each other until they didn’t.”

You open your mouth to apologize to him but realize that won’t help — it’s obvious Vernon doesn’t care about it much anymore, but you can’t just stay silent.

He speaks up again. “Do you remember our conversation at that party a few weeks ago?” He spots you shaking your head from the corner of his eye. “You asked me if I believed in love, and I didn’t answer you because I didn’t know if I did — which is weird, right? How can I work at a place meant for love when I don’t even know if I believe in it?” You don’t know what to say, so he continues. “But I think I have an answer now. I believe in love, but maybe not for myself.”

This, however, you have an answer to. “Vernon,” you protest, shaking your head. “Don’t be ridiculous. So many people love you.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “I mean the soulmate type of love, the one fate just—”

“Don’t say that,” you interrupt, straightening your spine and turning to face him. “You said the same thing when we were at the playground.”

He scoffs. “Because there isn’t someone for me.”

“You don’t know that,” you say immediately. He gives you a look that tells you that he doesn’t believe your words, and he thinks you don’t believe them either — but you do. “There’s somebody out here for you, Vernon. Maybe you just haven’t met them yet.”

He blinks. “I have.”

“What?”

“I have,” he turns from the caring pools in your eyes just in case he falls into the deep end. “I met my soulmate a while ago.”

Your lips part. “What?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs incredulously, as if he can’t believe it either. “They didn’t want me, which wasn’t surprising. This is my point, Y/N — love just doesn’t work out for me.”

You slump, hands falling behind you to steady yourself as you look away from him. Your head spins and your eyebrows furrow, and, because your curiosity threatens to spill over, you ask, “When’s your birthday?”

He bites his lip, wondering if it’s worth telling you.

And it is. It’s worth it because, after what seems like forever, you two have finally found common ground. When you look at him, you smile with no annoyance or irritation or burning hot rage. When you look at him, it’s like the world grants him oxygen to breathe.

“February eighteenth.”

(The stars hold their breath, waiting—)

The next words that fall from your lips are the wrong ones to say. “That’s the same day as Seokmin.”

(—and they sigh.)

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY:

ENTRY THIRTY-ONE: August 1

Maybe the best nights aren’t spent rewatching The Vampire Diaries until the sun rises. Maybe they’re spent next to Y/N Kwon.

AUGUST 2.

Okay, so maybe this party isn’t so bad. You’ll admit that you half-expected Jiwoo to invite dozens of people neither of you know, but the party started an hour ago and all you’ve seen are familiar faces.

For the time being, you’re in the kitchen with Soonyoung and Seokmin, the former sitting on the counter while Seokmin leans against it. They’re rambling about the new people they’ve met on campus, their potential new classmates, and you nod along. When your brother animatedly throws his arms up in the air whilst telling a story about their second day on campus, you realize that Seokmin and Soonyoung are probably better off away from here. And you don’t start crying at the realization.

You’re sure you’ll always miss them, but that’s what makes reunions like these so memorable. You’ll see Soonyoung during spring break and send Seokmin photos of stuffed animals you know he’ll love and for you, that’s enough. Here, spending time with your brother and your friend is enough.

“And there’s this guy, Jihoon, amazing dude,” Soonyoung's voice booms. “He makes music and stuff. I don’t know how all of it works but seeing him do it is just so— God, I don’t even know how to explain it.”

You smile then look at Seokmin. “How about you? Met any other cool people?”

Seokmin opens his mouth to answer but Soonyoung interjects before he can. “He’s been spending all his time with his soulmate instead of meeting other people.” Despite Soonyoung’s bitter tone, he nudges Seokmin with his elbow and grins. “He’s so in love it actually makes me sick.”

“I’m not— shut up,” Seokmin hisses. Something tells you his flushed cheeks aren't from the alcohol. “I met some people, too. Like Minghao whose dorm is across from us, he’s nice, and— yeah, I guess going to college with your soulmate is a bonus.”

“Don’t downplay it like that,” you tell him. “Admit it, you’re in love.”

Seokmin exhales. You’ve never seen that type of love in his eyes before. “Yeah,” he says, lips turned upwards, “yeah, maybe a little.”

“I told you,” Soonyoung quips, ruining the moment entirely, “the love is ruining him, Y/N. It’s ruining him.”

“Fuck off,” Seokmin laughs and shoves Soonyoung’s side, which only makes Soonyoung whine about the booze spilled on the floor. “You’ll be like this too once you meet your soulmate — granted you don’t end up running them away.”

Soonyoung shakes his head with a grin. “Low blow.” Before he brings the cup to his lips, he nods to you. “And I probably won’t meet my soulmate for a long time. Probably never, really. But I can’t say the same for Y/N.”

The colour drains from your face at the thought that you’ve lost track of time. You glance at your hand and then the clock and then back at your hand again. It’s nearing eleven-thirty — you have around thirteen minutes until the red string of fate ties a knot on your pinky.

As if he can read your mind, Seokmin’s eyes soften. “Hey,” he mumbles. It’s a surprise you can still hear him above the loud chattering around you, “I know you’re nervous, but you don’t have to be. The string will appear on your hand and feel weird for a few days, but you’ll end up forgetting about it. And on the off chance you meet your soulmate tonight,” he pauses upon noticing a group of friends entering the kitchen. His eyes fall on a certain brunet boy, “then is that so bad?”

Vernon stands at the door talking with Seungkwan and Chan, and you stare for a bit too long that, when you weakly protest, “We aren’t dating,” it loses all its credibility.

Seokmin grins from behind his cup. “Never said you were.”

Chan sees you first and stumbles towards you, smiling wide. “Y/N! Happy birthday!” When he reaches you, his hands fall on your shoulder and he leans against you. “How does it feel? You’re turning eighteen!"

You don’t answer Chan’s question because you aren’t as excited for today as you thought you’d be and you don’t have the heart to burst his excitement. Truth be told, you liked the comfort your last summer as seventeen-years-old has given you. You had freedom but not quite. “Are you drunk?”

Chan brings his fingers up. “A little. Needed liquid courage to sing happy birthday to you in front of all these people.”

“That’s not until later.”

“Got ahead of myself,” he murmurs, moving to lean against Seungkwan when he and Vernon stop beside you. “Hey, Seungkwan. Vernon,” and then his eyes travel to Seokmin and Soonyoung, suddenly registering the presence of two other people. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi, I’m Seokmin,” the boy raises his cup in greeting and all Chan does is nod in acknowledgement. Nobody would ever forget the boy who always seemed to find joy in a place everyone wanted to get out of. How ironic that he wanted to leave, too. “You’re Chan, right? I like your family’s donuts.”

Chan smiles politely like he always does when somebody compliments his family’s donut business. “Thanks. Means a lot.”

“I’m Soonyoung,” your brother tilts his head, examining the new boys by your side. “Birthday celebrant’s brother. Also a dancing machine and gardener extraordinaire.”

You deadpan, “He can’t garden.”

“I can,” Soonyoung grumbles. “Fuck you.”

Chan almost trips when Seungkwan pushes him off his shoulder. “Seungkwan. I’m good at Just Dance but I don’t garden.”

Vernon glances at you, gives you a nod like you two are in your own little world for two seconds before he introduces himself as well, but since Seokmin grins like they’re already friends and Soonyoung’s lips part in realization, he really didn’t need to. Still, he shakes Soonyoung’s hand when your brother extends it.

“Jiwoo said we’d find you here,” Vernon says, wiping the sweat of his hands on his jeans. “Someone brought a karaoke machine and we figured you wanted to try it out.”

“Oh, yes, that’s why I drank,” Chan claps his hands. “Liquid courage. For singing.”

You frown. “I thought it was because you wanted confidence to sing to me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Chan nods and then he tugs on your arm. “C’mon, sing a duet with me. I think there’s ABBA.”

Seungkwan snaps his fingers. “Oh, oh, you guys can sing that song they had in Mamma Mia!” he exclaims, tilting his head up at the ceiling to try and remember the name. “What was it called again?”

Vernon blinks. “Literally all the songs in the Mamma Mia! soundtrack are by ABBA—”

“Shut up, Vernon.”

You don’t even have a chance to wave a goodbye to Soonyoung and Seokmin because Chan’s grabbing your sleeves and dragging you alongside him to the living room, and you swear there’s more people in there than there were a few minutes ago. Vernon and Seungkwan trail behind, bickering about which Mamma Mia! movie was best, occasionally asking you and Chan to back them up.

Chan stops in front of the coffee table and takes the mic from a boy you think sat behind you in Chemistry. “Give me that,” he grumbles and you smile apologetically. “Everyone, make way for Y/N, they’re the birthday celebrant! Also please cheer them on even if they end up being tone deaf.”

“Chan, shut up,” you hiss.

Chan flips through the guide while you collapse on the couch beside Vernon, complaining under your breath about the unwanted attention you're receiving, to which Vernon only responds with a reassuring smile and a playful nudge.

“You’ll do fine,” he murmurs under his breath. “Chan can sing, though, so good luck. No pressure.”

“You’re horrible at these motivational talks.”

“Never said I was good,” he shrugs. “Happy birthday, by the way. I don’t think I said it yet.”

“You sent me fifteen texts throughout the day and used those special iMessage balloon effects.”

“I needed to make sure I got the message across.” Vernon frowns and searches your face for something. “And you only reacted to those texts with a thumbs up.”

“What was I supposed to say? Thanks?”

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Vernon retorts. “I don’t know, maybe reply with something more exciting? You’re acting like today isn’t a big deal.”

“Because it isn’t.”

The student council in high school — which you were part of — would always put up posters of fairytale love stories on bulletin boards and decorate the walls with gold on Valentine’s Day. It was nonsense and cliché, especially since the decor was supposed to be taken down before the next day, but Vernon always remembered, every Valentine’s Day, you would gush to Jiwoo about turning eighteen. Love, you would say, to which Jiwoo would add: and freedom.

He expects you to be as excited about this as you once were about the idea of it all. He wants you to enjoy tonight because you should.

Chan nudges your foot. “Picked the song.”

Behind the couch, Seungkwan pulls his phone from his back pocket and opens his camera app. When you stare incredulously at him, he only shrugs, “Your brother said to get this on tape.”

You rub the temples of your forehead. “God—”

When Chan pulls you off the couch, that’s when Vernon notices how close you were. The feeling of your arm pressed against his burns his skin and only disappears when Seungkwan slips into the space beside him, fumbling with the settings on his phone and murmuring about editing special effects over the video — just to make it more special.

“Should I add a voice filter?” Seungkwan calls, and you only flip him off. The boy laughs and, before pressing the record button, whispers out of the corner of his mouth, “You and Y/N looked cozy.”

Vernon knows where this conversation will go if he stays seated beside his best friend. Seungkwan knows him like the back of his hand — as all best friends should. He knows what makes Vernon tick and what pushes him over the edge to do what he needs to do. Seungkwan’s pushed him out of his comfort zone before, and he’ll do it again.

“Where are you going?” you ask when Vernon steps back to walk out of the living room. “That terrified of hearing me sing?”

It’s teasing, the way you talk to him, but when he looks at you, worry has engulfed you. He gives you his best smile, but he isn’t sure if it’s reassuring enough.

“No,” he denies almost immediately. “Just going to get a drink. I’ll be back before you finish. Promise.”

Vernon finds himself in the kitchen again, only this time, he’s standing by Lee Seokmin, who frowns at the boy hastily pouring himself a cup of Jiwoo’s notorious sick-to-the-stomach punch. Seokmin blinks at him for a moment before murmuring something to Soonyoung and squeezing himself into the spot next to Vernon.

“You shouldn’t drink that,” Seokmin warns cautiously. “Jiwoo’s punch is terrible. One time I couldn’t move for days — I don’t know what she adds in it.”

“Yeah, I was just…” Vernon trails off and brings the cup to his lips before hesitantly placing it back down on the counter. “I’m thirsty.”

Seokmin nods and Vernon can tell there’s going to be more to this conversation than painful small talk. “Listen,” Seokmin starts, shifting his body to face Vernon, who refuses to turn his head. “I know you and Y/N aren’t dating, so I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way when I joked about—”

“I’m not,” Vernon stops him. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Okay. Because when you saw me a few days ago you looked like you didn’t want to talk to me, which yeah, I understand, you don’t know me that well, but,” Seokmin clicks his tongue, “when you saw me today, you genuinely looked annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed, I’m just…” Vernon cuts himself off, preventing his next words from falling from his lips because if they do, he’ll be admitting something to himself he doesn’t want to admit. And it’s not like he and Seokmin are buddy-buddy enough to know each other’s deepest darkest secrets. “Forget it.”

“Well, I talked to Soonyoung about it,” Seokmin continues, not listening to Vernon’s begrudged forget it, “and he said it’s because you probably actually like Y/N. Which was a joke — he finds it hilarious, actually, that you two are friends now — but I don’t think he’s far off. And I talked to Jiwoo. She really thinks you have feelings.”

Fuck it. Vernon takes a swig of the punch.

From the corner of his eye, Seokmin winces. “I know you have some sort of problem with me, I don’t know what it is,” he sucks in his teeth, “but tonight at eleven forty-three, Y/N’s going to get their soulmate string, and these feelings are going to end up hurting you.”

“It’s a little too late for this talk,” Vernon mutters. “Besides, I already know who my soulmate is.”

“Huh. When’s your birthday?”

“February eighteenth.”

Vernon swears he wants to die when Seokmin replies, “Oh, hey! That’s my birthday, too!”

“Yeah. Me and my soulmate haven’t gotten the twenty-four hours yet, though,” he explains, waving his hand up in the air dismissively. “The whole ‘you have twenty-four hours to fall in love’ bullshit? Yeah.”

“Oh. They didn’t want to do it?”

Vernon considers his options. He doesn’t know Seokmin — all he knows about him is that he used to go to the same school, he has an endless amount of striped shirts, and he’s been oblivious to his best friend’s sibling’s infatuation for years. And Seokmin doesn’t know him, either. He won’t know if Vernon lies.

But... Vernon pushes his tongue up to the roof of his mouth then takes another sip of the punch.

“No, they haven’t gotten their string yet.”

Seokmin hums then pushes himself off the granite counter. The conversation has hit a dead end. He points to the clock. “They’re singing happy birthday soon.”

Vernon discards his cup and nods his head. “Right, yeah, of course,” he mumbles and doesn’t say goodbye to Seokmin when they split paths; Seokmin to Soonyoung, and Vernon to you.

On his way to the living room, though, Jiwoo tugs on his arm and tells him to find the lighter, and he spends a good five minutes rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen until Jiwoo decides to give up. She’s talking to a person beside her, discussing different ways to light candles, when someone shouts at the top of their lungs that it’s eleven forty-five and Jiwoo is late.

She hurries into the living room, apologizing that she missed the exact minute you turned eighteen, but you only shake your head to reassure her it’s fine. Jiwoo starts to bicker with Soonyoung about her time management when someone says something to you, and Vernon watches as realization dawns on your face. You look at the clock above the TV — still flashing you and Chan’s karaoke points, which is unbelievably low — then at your pinky, and then at Vernon.

He realizes a second too late why you’re staring at him.

He has two options. Option one: Push through the crowd formed around you and touch you. Touch your arms, graze your cheek, hold your hands. He can let himself be burned again by the feeling of your skin, let himself drown in its hypnotizing warmth, and let fate’s clock start. If he does this, by this time tomorrow night, you are either in love with him or you aren’t.

But he decides it’s too scary. Maybe taking that risk isn’t worth it.

So he chooses the second option. And he runs.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY ABOUT Y/N KWON: WHAT YOU LEARN TODAY ABOUT VERNON CHWE:

ENTRY ONE: August 2

He’s your soulmate.

Soulmate lore states that when somebody’s string is excruciatingly tight, it means their soulmate is far (Soonyoung believes he’ll never meet the love of his life simply because the string around his pinky feels like it’s cutting off his circulation). On the other hand, if you get it but it doesn’t feel like it’s there at all, it means your soulmate was always closer than you anticipated.

When Vernon slips out the door, you look back at your fingers to make sure you aren’t hallucinating. But then you feel a tug, as if fate is pushing you to follow him.

The words you mumble to Jiwoo are incoherent but you’re out the door before she can complain. Chan tries to grab your sleeve and make you stay so he can embarrassingly sing happy birthday, but you slip out of his grasp and rush out the door, desperately trying to spot Vernon’s brown head of hair.

You unlock your phone after Face ID decides it can’t detect your face in the dark and press Vernon’s contact. The phone rings and rings and you think he might be ignoring you until you faintly hear Seungkwan inside wondering aloud why you’re calling Vernon.

Of course he left his phone here.

You’re about to run down the street towards his house. Emotions flood every artery in your body, but you can’t quite place what it is. Anger, maybe, because Vernon never told you he was your soulmate. Sadness, maybe, because the first thing he did when he saw you looking at him was run. Desperation, maybe, because you need to talk to him. You need to hear his voice.

“Y/N.”

You swear you almost trip down the porch stairs.

Vernon stands on the street, eyes tired. You think, for a moment, he didn’t run because he was afraid, but because he wanted to talk to you without anybody around. You hope, for a moment, he isn’t going to slip between your fingers like sand and disappear before you even have a chance to love him.

But Vernon looks at you as if his heart is made of porcelain.

“Hi,” you whisper. “Why did you leave?”

“I was going to go back home, actually, but I think you deserve to hear this from me, and not from a text,” he starts carefully. Dread seeps into your face and you swear your heart’s being crushed. But no. Maybe what he has to say won’t be bad at all. “We can’t do this, Y/N.”

The air is shoved out of your lungs. “What?”

“This isn’t going to work,” he says. “It was never going to work.”

Suddenly, the anger drowns the sadness and desperation both. “What are you talking about?” you ask incredulously. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“Soulmates need two people to work, Y/N.”

“Is this about you thinking you don’t deserve love?”

“No.” Yes. “It’s about how you have been in love with somebody for years and that person isn’t me.”

The fury dissipates. “That doesn’t matter anymore, Vernon,” you reply, hopelessly clawing for any sign that he’ll change his mind. “It doesn’t. I don’t love him anymore—”

“You can’t love somebody for over half your life and get over it in a month,” Vernon interrupts. He needs you to see his point of view. He needs you to let him go because he isn’t strong enough to love someone who doesn’t love him back. “That’s not how it works.”

“Don’t dictate my feelings, Chwe.”

“Don’t you see?” Vernon scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “That right there. Look at your face, Y/N, you look like you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you—!”

“You did for years, stuff like that doesn’t just—”

“Vernon,” you cut him off, anguish flushing your cheeks. “You hated me too, and look where we are now. We became friends, feelings change—”

“No, that’s different,” he shakes his head when you step forward. “No, I never hated you. You hated me.”

Your hands drop to your side. “Vernon, come on,” you plead. The misery tickles your throat and threatens to spill. “You can’t just cut me off like this.”

“I can,” he murmurs. “Me and Seungkwan are leaving for New York at the end of this month and you’re staying here. The timezones and— no matter how much you think you can make it work, it won’t.”

“So, what,” you exhale, blinking quickly to make sure tears don’t fall down your cheeks, “that’s it?”

“I survived months knowing that we would never work, Y/N,” He takes a step back, ready to end this conversation because he cannot bear to stand in front of you while you look like your heart has been ripped to shreds. “I think I can survive the rest of my life.”

You hear Jiwoo’s aunt’s cuckoo clock the same time Vernon turns to begin his trek towards his house. And just like Cinderella, you lose everything at midnight.

Tuesday, August 3 09:07 a.m.

you: listen i know you don’t wanna talk to me but i think you’re being really unfair you: please answer my calls

Tuesday, August 3 21:08 p.m.

you: i gave you 12 hours to talk to me that’s enough right? you: vernon please

Wednesday, August 4 01:01 a.m.

you: i swear i’m about to kick your door down

Wednesday, August 4 10:19 a.m.

you: okay so you don’t wanna talk to me i get it you: but you really did not have to send seungkwan down here. you could’ve just said it to my face you: soonyoung and seokmin are looking at me like i’ve been punched in the gut you: which i guess i have

Saturday, August 7 16:55 p.m.

you: wanna watch a movie?

ji: he’s still not talking to you?

you: u didn’t answer my question

ji: yn..

you: yeah he’s still not talking to me

Wednesday, August 11 12:08 p.m.

seokmin: saw vernon at the grocery store & told him to talk to you

you: what makes you think he’s gonna listen to you

seokmin: i don’t know seokmin: hope?

you: seok

seokmin: you two can’t just give up seokmin: that’s so dumb seokmin: why doesn’t he wanna try anyway?

you: it’s a long story you: i don’t wanna talk abt it rn

seokmin: yn

you: seokmin

seokmin: ...fine seokmin: im omw back with some walmart cupcakes

you: thank you

Saturday, August 14 23:57 p.m.

chan: okay this is stupid chan: yn please talk to vernon

you: is this a new gc?

seungkwan: IDK WHAT U DID TO VERNON BUT WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU...

chan: SEUNGKWAN

you: if he doesn’t wanna talk to me then i’m not gonna talk to him

seungkwan: because you’re a COWARD?

you: because he thinks i don’t love him

seungkwan: wait what

chan: I TOLD U VERNONS THE ONE IN THE WRONG chan: wait chan: ???? U LOVE HIM ?

you: BYE chan BYE seungkwan

AUGUST 15.

Vernon thinks he might collapse.

When he woke up this morning, he ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, took a shower, changed, reminded himself that he doesn’t have to drive to your house to pick you up, and went to work. Upon arriving at the Soulmate Service, Winn made him talk to his clients — a thirty-something woman who’s skeptical of Vernon’s abilities as a matchmaker (which he supposes he deserves) — and then went into the back room to help Winn make a plan on how to handle the Soulmate Service in Vernon’s absence.

He’s about to go on his lunch break when he walks out from behind the counter to find you sitting in the chairs of the waiting room, tapping your feet impatiently. He freezes, then you freeze, and then you stand up and start spewing indecipherable words. The only things Vernon catches are: Jiwoo said you wouldn’t be here and sorry. You look good.

Vernon has to blink multiple times to make sure he isn’t seeing things. He knows he was the one that ghosted you, but air fills his chest like a gas tank pumping helium into balloons. He’s missed you.

“Um,” he starts. The one syllable is enough to make you clamp your mouth shut. “Sorry. What are you doing here?”

The words come out harsher than he anticipated. “Oh, Jiwoo needed to drop something off,” you say meekly. “And I need to talk to Winn about ending the service. We haven’t spoken in a while, so I figured this thing is done, right?”

This was a long time coming — he knows that. There are consequences to his actions, and those just happen to be never seeing you again. But this hits him — really hits him. He’s rooted to his spot, as if his legs are conspiring against him and he’s being stopped from stopping you.

He picks his words carefully. “You ended it already?”

“Not yet,” you reply. “Jiwoo went to go buy something so I’m just waiting for her. And one of your co-workers said Winn was busy, so.”

“Right,” Vernon nods. “We were talking about, uh, New York.”

Your face drops, just a little, but it’s enough for Vernon to notice. “You and Seungkwan are leaving soon then?” you ask, then shake your head. “Never mind, stupid question. Seungkwan’s packing and everything.”

“You guys talk a lot?”

“A little,” you hum. “And also he spams his Instagram story a lot. I swear that thing is like five minutes long.”

Vernon’s lips quirk up. It’s barely a smile, but even just a hint of it tugs at your heartstrings. This kind of feeling is something you’ve only read about in books — the feeling of having such a big connection with somebody that when they leave it physically hurts. Sorrow digs into your chest and breaks you apart. It’s a feeling you don’t ever want to feel again.

It’s baffling, almost, how much you missed his smile. Even the amusing smirks and the teasing shit-eating grins.

As two people walk by, you take a few steps forward and Vernon almost recoils, as if he doesn’t want to touch you. But he does — however, here’s the thing: when the twenty-four hours starts, there’s a chance his string will be cut, which means he’ll no longer be connected to you. At least when he leaves for New York, the string will still be there — albeit a little tighter — but when it’s gone, you’re gone.

The idea of never seeing you again is something he doesn’t want.

“Vernon,” you murmur. “Why won’t you give this a chance?”

It’s a heavy question, isn’t it? Why won’t you give this a chance?

There’s a multitude of answers he can give, but it all boils down to: you being his soulmate terrifies him. You not being his soulmate does, too.

Vernon plops himself in the seat in front of you and hesitantly, you sit back down. “You know in fifth grade I was supposed to sit next to Jiwoo? But Seungkwan asked to switch because he couldn’t see the board from the back,” his back hits the soft cushion and he stares down at his feet. “I felt bad about the whole sandcastle thing in kindergarten. I tried to make it up to you. I tried — God — I tried to be your friend but you weren’t having it.”

“You were an asshole in fifth grade.”

“Yeah, I,” he sighs, “that’s how I was with Seungkwan. That’s why I tried to be like that with you.”

You bite your cheek. “Okay. But that was years ago.”

“I know,” he says. “But I don’t wanna mess this up again.”

“Technically, you almost did when you ghosted me for two weeks,” you give him a hesitant smile. “But we’re here now, right?”

You barely move, but it feels like you’re inching closer and closer to him. His heart climbs up his throat. “If we don’t love each other after this is over, we’re done for.”

You pause. “You think we won’t be friends?”

“I want us to be,” his voice is almost inaudible. “But I don’t think that’s enough.”

“Sometimes it is,” you stand again, eyes flickering over to the closed door behind the counter and smile. “I promise you this won’t end if the string is cut. Or if you go to New York. Really.”

There’s a moment of silence where Vernon sits, staring at your hand. He’s pretty sure you haven’t been very persuasive at all during this entire conversation, but as much as there’s a part of him that wants to run, there’s another part of him that wants to try. He feels his heartbeat stammer against his ribcage.

He brings his hand to his knee. “Winn will be pissed if I just left.”

“He’ll be fine. It’s not like he can fire you,” you bite your tongue to stop yourself from smiling. “Aren’t you the best in the game?”

Almost doubtfully, he reaches for your hand. When warmth shoots up his arms it’s too late to take anything back — you are his, even if it’s just for a day, and fate’s clock has started.

Sunday, August 15 11:30 a.m.

you: had to run out sorry i’ll see u tmrw

ji: oh okay :/ did you talk to winn? ji: ? why’s winn mad lol i just got back and he’s asking me if i’ve seen vernon ji: wait ji: WAIT ji: YN?? Delivered

“Did you plan this?”

“No. Obviously not. God, fuck,” you groan, glaring at the closed sign of the café as the rain falls down your back. “I swear this place was open when me and Jiwoo walked past it on our way to Target.”

Vernon raises his eyebrows, scanning over the Opening Hours sign by the door. “They’re not open on Sundays.”

“What kind of café isn’t open on Sunday?” you scoff, turning around to look for somewhere to take shelter in. So far, this Soulmate Day hasn’t gone exactly as planned. Not like you even planned it, anyway — you just wanted it to go smoothly. “Really, sometimes people just need a pick-me-up, but of course it’s closed.”

Vernon smiles. “It’s fine, we’ll find somewhere else to go.”

You look up at him. “You look like a dog.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, your hair’s all wet,” you snort. “And you kind of look like a wet dog. It’s cute.”

“Alright,” Vernon huffs, leaning against the closed door and glancing up at the raindrops pounding against the pavement. “So is this what we’re going to do all day? Loiter in front of a closed café until the rain stops?”

You deflate. “No, of course not,” you scoff. A beat of silence, then: “I hope not.”

He watches as you narrow your eyes at the clouds and bites the inside of his cheek. “I don’t think it’ll be stopping anytime soon,” he says, sliding down so that he hits the pavement. “Sit. Might as well spend our last twenty-four hours talking.”

“Last twenty-four hours,” you scoff. “Neither of us are dying.”

Vernon sighs. “Sit.”

With a groan, you take a seat beside Vernon, the cold concrete sending a thrill down your spine as soon as your skin touches it. As the rain patters relentlessly on every surface, you frown and rest your head against the café’s window. These Soulmate Days, as your mother likes to call them, are usually spent having fancy, over-the-top dates — the kind of dates you would only have the idea for if you spent hours on Pinterest, searching for perfection.

A raindrop hits your eye and you try to blink it away. You don’t even know how it landed on your face; you and Vernon are sitting under the slanted roof of the strip mall.

“Today was supposed to be fun.”

Vernon frowns at your dejected expression. “Hey, it’s okay.” His elbow hits yours. “Really. You said you didn’t plan this, so you never would’ve known it’d start pouring.”

“Yeah, but,” you exhale, “I wanted today to be good, you know?” Because if it isn’t perfect how will it be enough to convince him this is worth it? “And you hate the rain.”

He stares at the wet material of his shoes. “Yeah, I do.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, basking in the other’s presence. Vernon watches the rain while your mind spins, trying to use all the problem-solving skills your teachers in school would tell you to use. But sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can’t find a way to solve this problem, because here you are — sitting on an empty street, waiting for the rain to stop, while the humidity swims into your bloodstream, next to a boy who thinks you’ll never love him.

Wait.

You sit up. “Hold on,” you say, spinning quickly to face Vernon. “Do you love me?”

He laughs. “What?”

“Do you love me?”

Vernon looks at you weirdly, shuffling to look at you properly. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t think I love you.”

“Well, yeah, because you don’t—”

“But you love me.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah, I thought that was kind of obvious.”

You send him a short glare. And then, “How long?” you ask. When he frowns, you add, “How long have you loved me?”

Vernon grows quiet, eyes flitting from the sidewalk then to the clouds and then to you. He has that look on again — the difficult-to-interpret, undecipherable look that you never bothered to understand. But now you find yourself wanting to take in every detail. “That’s not something I can exactly pinpoint.”

“Approximately,” you reply back, “approximately how long.”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs.

Love is a tricky thing. He can say that he’s loved you since that day in the sandbox — but he hasn’t. He can say he loved you since you took your first seat beside him in fifth grade — but he hasn’t. He can say it was at the New Year’s party two years ago where you didn’t notice him or the one last year where you did but then forgot. He can say it was when the string appeared on his finger and he went to school the next day only to realize with a start that his soulmate is you. He can say he’s loved you since the beginning of summer.

He doesn’t know. Because by the time you, filled to the brim with annoyance, sat beside him on the bench on July second, he didn’t know where his feelings lied.

Maybe he’s never loved you. Maybe it was fate making him believe he was.

But isn’t that what Soulmate Days are for? To see if you love them? Truly, really love them?

The rain slows, the clouds part, the sun seeps through.

Vernon’s noticed he associates weather with people. Jiwoo is the nights spent under the Big Dipper and other scattered constellations, where it’s not too chilly and not too hot. Winn is the calm before the lightning storm, where the atmosphere settles into one of peace and quiet until the surprise hits. His dad is the rain, sadness floating in skies and puddles.

You are the sunshine after the rainstorm. The rainbow in the sky so faint you can barely see it, the glistening in the water, the relief in the sun. You are, without a doubt, beautiful. Vernon thinks he can endure the rain if it means seeing the beauty right after.

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “But that doesn’t matter. I’ve loved you long enough.”

AUGUST 16.

His neck hurts like a bitch.

After the skies had cleared, you and Vernon ended up going back home to get some supplies for a beach day. He claimed it wouldn’t be busy — but it’s summer break and California. Rain wouldn’t stop anybody — and refused to let you pick the music on the way there. You bickered over Dolly Parton songs and then Ariana Grande, then you both settled for a station the two of you agreed was passable.

You stopped at a gas station to buy snacks — the clerk from before was working and gave you a raised eyebrow, to which you only scowled — and then spent the rest of your trip playing twenty questions, much to Vernon's dismay. You found out his favourite dog breed are the small wiener dogs and he used to work at the pet store near the Soulmate Service before he got fired for playing with the cats too much. He found out you like strawberry ice cream more than chocolate and have an odd fascination with whales.

At the beach, he splashed you with water and you retaliated until eventually, both of you were soaking head-to-toe. When night approached and you were shivering in Vernon’s car, he thought the two of you would feel better with a trip to McDonald’s.

(You spilled your McFlurry on his leather seats. You think if you were anybody else, he would’ve handed you your ass.)

Instead of dropping you home, Vernon took a detour to the drive-in. The movie was old and in black and white; it was too boring to hold your attention so you spun in your seat, pants sticky with ice cream, and played with Vernon’s fingers while he watched the movie. The smile on his face was breathtaking.

You two ended up falling asleep in his car. Hence the crick in Vernon’s neck.

“Christ,” he mumbles to himself, rubbing his eyes. The sun glares through his windows and he hisses. “God, what the fuck?”

The blinding light is everywhere. Vernon thinks he might turn to stone if it continues to slip through his windows. In the seat beside him, you stir, twisting in the seat and turning to face him.

You drool when you sleep. He’s definitely gonna tease you about that later.

He moves the sun visor to shield his eyes when he catches a glimpse of the time displayed on the radio. 11:45 A.M. God, it’s been a little over a day since he ditched his shift and he’s sure Winn’s gonna kill him.

Vernon stills. It’s been over a day. Twenty-four hours.

He brings his hand up to his face and he almost does a double take. His heart starts pounding against his ribs, hope seeps under his skin, and his lips stretch into a smile.

His string is gold.

Sunday, August 15 21:18 p.m

20 missed calls from soonyoung

soonyoung: WHATS WRONG WITH YOU soonyoung: WHAT KIND OF PERSON JUST DOESNT ANSWER THEIR PHONE soonyoung: yn you don’t have a life why aren’t you answering me i’m freaking out soonyoung: HAVE U BEEN TAKEN??? WHERE ARE YOU

Sunday, August 15 21:23 p.m

seokmin: ANSWER UR PHONE??

10 missed calls from seokmin

seokmin: soonyoung is literally so scared. i’m so scared. WHERE ARE YOU seokmin: yn you haven’t even finished game of thrones yet please come back 😭😭😭

Sunday, August 15 21:34 p.m

soonyoung: i’m gonna put a pic of you on my instagram. whoever finds you gets rewarded with money

Sunday, August 15 22:03 p.m

seokmin: why are your parents not more worried about this seokmin: they’re like cackling rn seokmin: gonna ask jiwoo if she knows where you are

Sunday, August 15 22:17 p.m

ji: UR GONE? ji: UR LOCATION SAYS AT THE DRIVE IN? IM LIKE SPRINTING OVER THERE I M SO TIRER

ji: WHERE ARE U ji: this movie is boring wtfff why are you here 😭 ji: oh there’s vernon ji: WHAT THE FUCK ji: [image attached] ji: LOLLL blackmail material: acquired ji: you drool a lot

Sunday, August 15 22:39 p.m

seokmin: jiwoo just told me where u are omg stay safe!!! seokmin: i called this btw i better be like.. ring bearer at your wedding or something

Sunday, August 15 22:44 p.m

soonyoung: mom and dad just told me they knew where u were all night long because you called them.. and yet you didn’t call ME…. soonyoung: I CANT BELIEVE YOU HAD YOUR SOULMATE DAY AND DIDN’T TELL ME? soonyoung: god now i have to give money to your boyfriend. you’re the worst sibling ever soonyoung: happy for you though ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Monday, August 16 00:55 a.m

seungkwan: hey vernon someone just dm’ed me asking for your cashapp.. don’t forget me when ur rich dude

soon____young sent you $1!

★ author’s note: and the end!!! i kinda got lazy towards the end so sorry about that but....... i hope you enjoyed this lol

© all rights reserved, dkfile 2021.

[mosstliest]

fallen stars always plague the cold

requested?  yes  /   no

r e q u e s t :

Omg hi!!! Ur writing is literally *chefs kiss*

ne ways I'd love to request a c!techno x reader with the frostbitten lips kissing cuz like yk they live in the frozen tundra and im a simp also I'd love to be 🩰 anon if ur opening an anon list!!!

- 🩰 anon

prompt! - 27, kiss with frostbitten lips

pronouns used: they / them

c!technoblade x reader

fluff, angst? (past partners to rivals to lovers speedrun)

cw! mentions of frostbit . swearing  . eye talk bc I’m a sucker for eyes . mentions of past war

1318 words

Coming from L’manberg, where the most drastic climate event were the ever appropriate thunderstorms, it’s safe to say you did not take kindly to the everlasting cold of Snowchester and it’s freezing surroundings. Life in the arctic biome had quickly proven to be unsympathetic, but you’d never been the type to back down from a challenge.

It was on a particularly hostile evening that you found yourself walking alongside none other than Technoblade.

He’d found you in the rather compromising position of almost being killed by an enderman while trying to obtain the means to pearl atop the mountain and offered to walk you home under the argument of “I can’t be associated with someone who died in such an embarrassing way”.

You’d met him before --reluctantly considering him an acquaintance when he first allied with Pogtopia and slowly, between training sessions and long hours of potato farming, you had dared to call him a friend, after weeks of preparing for war, perhaps something more.  neither of you ever risked suggesting a title, but you’d proudly worn his enchanted armor to combat and stood beside him as the tyranny of Schlatt ended on an underwhelming note, the taste of victory still weaved with the bitterness of betrayal as you ended up battling his withers. You’d learnt your lesson and were not willing to forget it.

The two of you had been walking for a good thirty minutes and the silhouette of your cottage was still nowhere to be seen, a month had passed since you relocated to the vicinal hills of Snowchester and you still hadn’t learnt that the customary fur lined attire was never enough to keep you warm but instead of walking faster or rubbing your arms to scare off the cold, you decided to provoke the pigman. No better antidote for frostbite than a bit of entertainment, right?

“So, still on the business of betraying your friends Techno?”

The attractive clean-cut features of the pigman and his eternally stern expression never ceased to stun you, he glanced back at you with snowflakes sticking to his braided hair and no trace of a reaction in his face.

“Still letting everyone push you around y/n?”

Monotone, cold. Maybe the arctic had been the place for him all along

You could have quipped back, but there were so many things left unsaid between you, and there was still a long way to go

“I don’t let anyone push me around, I never have”

“aha”

Hot fury started rising up your throat, he was so unbothered by everything it was exasperating

“We trusted you, Tommy and Tubbo and Wil… we needed you Techno, I needed you! You were my friend and you betrayed me-”

The word friend felt foreign when spoken to him, but this was no time for introspection

“And you still haven’t learnt a thing! Be it Tubbo or Schlatt or even Wilbur, they’re the problem! The gov-”

You flinched at the mention of your dead friend and interrupted the man

“It never had anything to do with the fucking government Techno! We trusted you and you didn’t give a shit”

You blinked away angry tears and turned to face him, the frozen trail forgotten as you both laid raw statements on a creaking table built of long buried feelings

“Y’know, I always considered you the smartest of the bunch, guess you’ve proven me wrong”

“You are the one who hasn’t learnt! I’ve grown Techno, I have changed. You left our country a burning mess and you ran for the fucking hills! You never cared, you never...”

He opened his mouth to answer and closed it as you drifted off mid sentence

“That’s what you think? That I abandoned you because I didn’t care? They called me a war criminal! I’m a damn public enemy now y/n”

Furious tears ran down your cheeks leaving a frozen trail of bitterness

“I had no choice and I- well I wasn’t going to drag you with me! but I cared, I still do I think… about you at least”

A wolf howling in the distance was the only sound breaking the stillness

“You look cold, let’s… let’s just get you home”

“I am not cold, I-”

A particularly inhospitable breeze cut you off and Technoblade couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at how you wrapped your arms around your midsection in a futile attempt to battle the snow, the usual threatening demeanor that had always intrigued the anarchist shattered and the softness underneath it nothing short of endearing. He could have stared at you forever, delicate and fragile under the northern sky, but your lips were turning blue and Technoblade wasn’t about to let all the effort of finishing off the enderman and walking up a mountain for god knows how long go to waste. Without uttering a word, he slipped off his red cape and draped it around your shoulders.

The red material was worn and soft and you let out a sigh of relief as the cloak started warming your body.

“Thanks”

Your voice came out a resigned whisper and if it weren’t for the eternal silence of the landscape around you, Techno wouldn't have been able to hear it.

You hadn’t been looking for closure, you had wanted to provoke him, fishing for a reaction, a quip or an insult. In some twisted way, you had missed him.

Everything stayed quiet for a second. his normally virtuous hand still stuck in mid air, barely missing a grasp on the fur lining his cloak. You’d never paid much thought to The Blade’s height, but now, as he towered over you, close enough that you could hear him breathe, you wished you’d taken Eret up on that platform boots shopping trip invitation years ago.

Technoblade was much less preoccupied with your height difference and more concerned with the fact that you were possibly the most enchanting person he’d ever laid eyes on. He wondered if he’d noticed before --while you rotted away together on the dimly lit cavern they had insisted on calling a nation--, how your eyes were prettier than the moon; brighter and fuller and bewitching in every sense of the word.

He wondered if a million multicolored polar lights would ever be as hypnotic as the coat of frozen dew that laced your eyelashes and made them shine like stars under the rays of the dusk. In a reckless motion, Technoblade reached his hand and wiped a stray shortleaf that had landed on your cheekbone, he watched in awe as you leaned against his touch.

Neither of you spoke, neither moved an inch, too scared of shattering the fragile tension outstretched between you.

Later, when trying to recall this moment, neither of you could decide on who leaned in first, but when your frostbitten lips met for the first time the world seemed to blur, or, perhaps, you finally started to see clearly.

Techno’s right hand cradled your cheek and his left traveled shy and trembling to your neck, carefully deepening the kiss. you melted onto his embrace with a small gasp, both hands pressed firmly against his chest treasuring the feeling of his beating heart against your skin.

His lips were ice and tasted like the night and his mouth was burning hot and desperate and his breath was shaky and the snow was falling heavier than before but it was fine, any trace of cold had long banished and the rhythmic melody of synchronized heartbeats melted the snow before it reached the ground.

You kissed for what could have been hours of long minutes or short fused seconds with no one but the stars and the moon and the ice as witnesses.

When you opened your eyes and looked up at Techno, his cheeks were flushed a dark crimson and he was blinking fast, all pink shadows and golden angles against the white. Lean and powerful as he’d always been and suddenly; forgiving him appeared to be a rather tempting option.

ANIME TECHNO GO BRRR

I feel like this came off a bit rushed but I really loved this request and wanted to finish it up as quick as posible.

Masterlist should be up soon and I am opening an anon list if you're interested :^)

have a lovely morning/day/evening/night <3

[robininthelabyrinth]

Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng start hooking up post-canon and Wei Wuxian assumes it's part of a scheme on Nie Huaisang's part. Possibly it was actually a scheme but Nie Huaisang got into it anyway. Or if sadness is more your thing, he didn't, and Wei Wuxian is left being like "see Jiang Cheng? I knew he couldn't have been hanging around with you for fun!"

ao3 (short)

“You need to stop,” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes narrow and expression fierce.

It was a lot less effective on Mo Xuanyu’s face than it had been on his original features. No one had yet told him, presumably out of a desire to avoid being murdered by Lan Wangji for making his lover sad.

Nie Huaisang frowned at him. “Stop…what?”

“Whatever it is you’re up to!”

Oh, were they doing this again?

Nie Huaisang opened up a fan and hid his face behind it in a single movement – he’d gotten really good at it over the years – and started idly fanning himself. “Wei-xiong, really, you’ll need to be more specific. I’m up to so many things, don’t you know…?”

Normally Nie Huaisang wouldn’t bother playing along, but he could see Jiang Cheng coming down the hallway at an angle that put him directly in Wei Wuxian’s blind spot – if there was one thing Jinlin Tower was good for, it was not seeing people – and he could already see Jiang Cheng starting to smile at his nonsense, which was obviously far more important than whatever it was that Wei Wuxian thought he’d figured out.

Hmm. Maybe Nie Huaisang was being too hasty in judging Lan Wangji’s rudeness – love really did make you do the stupidest things…

“I meant in relation to Jiang Cheng.”

Nie Huaisang stopped fanning and stared blankly at him. A few steps away from the turn, he saw Jiang Cheng come to a halt as well, already scowling.

“Jiang – Cheng?” he said hesitantly. “What exactly does Wei-xiong think I’m doing with Jiang-xiong?”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms. “I’m not sure,” he said. “What are you doing?”

Nie Huaisang blinked at him. “But if I knew that, Wei-xiong, I wouldn’t have asked you, would I?”

The main problem Wei Wuxian had with confronting Nie Huaisang about anything, really, was that he genuinely found Nie Huaisang terribly funny. The twitching lips made the glaring more difficult.

(Behind him, Jiang Cheng was rolling his eyes, a full-body production that involved a great deal of heaving of shoulders and clutching at his head at the rampant stupidity on display. Nie Huaisang appreciated his lover's dedication to the art.)

Still – and this part was worrisome – Wei Wuxian’s smile faded away soon enough, replaced by a solemn expression.

“We may not be on the best of terms right now,” he said. “But he’s still very dear to me. I won’t put up with you using him as part of one of your schemes.”

“I don’t actually have any schemes,” Nie Huaisang said, mostly because Jiang Cheng was frowning now and Nie Huaisang did not want Wei Wuxian to mess up his budding relationship. “Really, Wei-xiong! I had one scheme, and it took me over a decade – I’m hardly the shadowy puppet-master mastermind you seem to sometimes seem to take me as. Why would you think that I’m using Jiang-xiong?”

“You’re deceitful,” Wei Wuxian said. “You made Jin Guangyao think that you were weak and dependent on him for years even as you plotted to bring him down. And now you’re pulling the same thing on Jiang Cheng – what am I supposed to think?”

Wei Wuxian must have seen them in the market, Nie Huaisang thought. He’d been carping around, playing up his good-for-nothing self – Jiang Cheng liked it when he did that. Mostly because Nie Huaisang really was a bit of a good-for-nothing, his one scheme claim to fame being firmly in the past; his cultivation was weak, his achievements few, his personality…questionable…

(Jin Ling had, upon discovering them spending time together, told Nie Huaisang that he fit everyone one of the criteria that Jiang Cheng had set out for a wife, right down to the weaker level of cultivation and the proper family background. Nie Huaisang had bought him some candy on the basis that ‘be nice to Jin Ling’ was on the list, and told him to think about the type of mileage he could get out of something like that. Jin Ling had looked appropriately thoughtful, after.

Nie Huaisang was a very good influence – or possibly a bad one, he wasn’t sure.)

At any rate, Jiang Cheng liked indulging him, liked and was reassured by the contrast between them. No one looking at them would ever put Jiang Cheng second – Nie Huaisang wasn’t even prettier! – except maybe in terms of insults, and even Jiang Cheng had to admit that he didn’t really want the privilege of being called the worst Great Sect leader, even if it was a superlative.

Wei Wuxian must have seen.

Wei Wuxian must have totally misunderstood.

“Jiang-xiong was at the Guanyin temple as well,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “It’s not like er-ge at all.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “Do you really have the right to call Lan-da-ge that?”

“My brother’s no less my brother because he’s dead, and he kept his oath to the end,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “Why should the other two be released from the obligations of their oath just because they chose to foreswear their side of it?”

“Stop getting away from the point,” Wei Wuxian said, probably because Nie Huaisang was right. Bitter and mean and resentful, but right. “Whatever you’re scheming that involves Jiang Cheng, stop it.”

“No.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

“I’m not scheming, but even if I was, the target would be Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang explained. “You don’t understand, Wei-xiong. You see, I like Jiang Cheng.”

“I’m sure you do,” Wei Wuxian said. “But I also think you liked Jin Guangyao, a bit.”

Maybe he had. A bit.

But it wasn’t the same at all!

“I especially won’t tolerate you using him for sex while also –”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng bellowed, and Wei Wuxian jumped a chi into the air.

Nie Huaisang fanned himself. “Oh good,” he said. “I was about to be worried that you’d misunderstand, Jiang-xiong, but luckily Wei-xiong decided to take all the awkwardness onto himself.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jiang Cheng snarled at Wei Wuxian, who blanched but scowled back.

“I was just trying to help –”

“By embarrassing me?”

“How is it embarrassing to you?!”

“You think I’d be – what – led around by my dick like some new model Jin Guangshan –”

“Oh, that’s a good insult,” Nie Huaisnag said approvingly. “I’m going to need to use that in the future. What do you think the odds are for Lan Wangji biting me if I said it to him?”

That got both of them to stop fighting and turn to look at him.

“What? Does he only bite people he likes now? He used to bite everybody.”

Blank staring.

“That was back when he was five,” Nie Huaisang allowed. “It’s been a while.”

“You have stories about baby Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian said at once, as one might’ve expected. “I want them. All of them. Now.”

“Weren’t you threatening him a moment ago?!”

“That’s different! That was for you!”

“Right, because you don’t think anyone would actually like me,” Jiang Cheng said.

He sounded hurt.

Unacceptable.

“I’m sure Wei-xiong just meant that you were so unbearably attractive that people would compete for the opportunity to manipulate them into your bed,” Nie Huaisang assured him while Wei Wuxian was still trying to find words. “And since Wei-xiong thinks I’m the best schemer, obviously I won hands down, and secretly eliminated all my love rivals to boot. It's all my fault. Alas! I've been caught red-handed!”

“Are you actually capable of saying a single word that isn’t complete nonsense?” Jiang Cheng asked him, his tone having returned to exasperated and fond, which was worlds better than hurt.

Nie Huaisang considered the question seriously and then shook his head.

“You…! Good-for-nothing!”

Nie Huaisang nodded happily. “Your good-for-nothing,” he said cheerfully. “I’m going to make you do everything for me from now on.”

He was, too.

Wei Wuxian looked between them. “Wait,” he said. “Is this – a thing?”

“If you mean Jiang-xiong and I, yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “He’s been courting me for years, and I refused.”

“Only on the basis of a secret murder plot which you didn’t want to get me involved in.”

“How was I to know that everything would turn out well in the end? I thought there was every chance san-ge would find a way to drag me down with him. I couldn’t let that happen to you, of course.”

“Of course,” Jiang Cheng jeered, but he looked pleased and smug the way he always did when Nie Huaisang admitted to having been won over by the very first day of his courtship, years ago. He liked being successful at things.

“No,” Wei Wuxian said. “Not that. The – good-for-nothing thing. It’s a thing. For you two.”

“Fighting words,” Nie Huaisang remarked, even as Jiang Cheng flushed red. “Coming from the dreadful Yiling Patriarch that needs to be defeated by the mighty and righteous Hanguang-jun and then taken away for a good ravishing –”

“Wei Wuxian!”

“Uh - listen – I can explain – actually, no, I can’t. Nie-xiong, you have my blessing, just don’t break his heart, bye.”

“Come back here you -!”

Yes, Nie Huaisang decided, watching Jiang Cheng chase Wei Wuxian. This was the best possible result.

[jeongjaebae]

More than tomorrow

⇢ Hyunjae x reader, 5.5k, angst ⇢ Warnings: implied (major) character death, mentions of blood and death, swearing

⇢ You've come to learn that Hyunjae loves you more than yesterday but less than tomorrow, even if he no longer has any tomorrows left.

"I seem to have lost my number," Hyunjae says from where he sits in his spot at the table across from you. "So can I have yours?"

You keep your eyes trained on your book, making sure to move them line by line methodically even if you're not actually absorbing any of the content.

"Have you read any of these? Because they are actually terrible. Listen to this one." He glances up from the magazine to look at you as if waiting for a reaction. One you don't give him. "Do you have a map? Because I seem to have gotten lost in your eyes."

Even without a reaction from you, he bursts out laughing by himself. His laughter fills the room and bounces off the walls as you flip the page of your book and continue pretending to read.

He stops laughing. "Were they that lame? Hold on, I have a better one." Hyunjae gets up from his seat this time and plants himself right beside you, with his face a mere distance from yours. "Aren't you tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day."

Another page flip. You entirely ignore the way his stare seems to bore through your soul, the way he seems to know just why you're ignoring him.

Hyunjae sighs, leaving your side to go back to his seat. "Y/N, you're allowed to laugh. I know you can see me no matter how much you try to pretend like you can't."

You decide to put down the book and call it a night.

***

"You're still going to ignore me, huh?" Hyunjae whines at you, pouting. "But I'm so bored."

He's upped his antics—today he had stood right in front of you in the hallway when you got home, trying to force you to step around him. It had taken everything you had to maintain a blank stare and walk through him. It wasn't so bad though. It didn't feel like anything after all.

"The unemployment life sure is boring, you know? All I can do around here is wait for you to come home. Yet you still ignore me." He waves a hand in front of your face, then shakes his head. "So rude, Y/N."

You go to sit down in your usual seat at the table, setting the same book in front of you. The same evening routine each day.

"You're on page 347," Hyunjae rolls his eyes. "The same page every day. Come on, Y/N. If you're going to pretend then at least make it believable."

He's not wrong. Though it's not the scene in the story that you were stuck on, but rather the sunny afternoon at the garden with him. He complains about the bees in his familiar scrawl within the margins, though even that is enough to remind you of how the sunlight had looked on his hair, how his smile had been bright enough to rival it.

Hyunjae leans over to take a look at your book. "Oh, it's that one. Did you enjoy the garden that much? We could've gone again if you wanted to." Then he leans back in his seat, a mischievous smirk slowly appearing. "Though I know there's no need to see any more flowers when you think I'm prettier than all of them."

Normally, you would've rolled your eyes at his words. Maybe you would've kicked him lightly under the table, scowled at him. And he would've just laughed, maybe picked you up out of your chair and carried you right to bed.

But none of those things can happen, so you go on reading. From page 347.

***

"You know, I'm almost starting to think that you're ignoring me because you're mad at me." Hyunjae props his feet up on the table this time. "Was it from the scare earlier? If it was, I'm sorry."

He's still on the train of trying new tactics every day, from attempting to jump scare you, to sitting in your usual seat. The jump scare worked a little better—you couldn't help the initial reaction to gasp and flinch a little. He saw that as a victory and kept trying to rub it in your face while you went back to pretending he's not there.

"Was it for calling you out about always being on the same page? Well, why would you read my notes in the book when I'm right here?" he shrugs. "So it's not really my fault if you'd rather listen to me ramble all night rather than read."

He's not wrong about that.

"Of course you'd rather pay attention to me. I'm hot and I have a nice voice," Hyunjae says with a smirk, doing a fake hair flip.

He sure can be annoying too, though.

The smile on Hyunjae's face doesn't last. It slips off easily just like the way your relationship had slipped through your fingers. He sighs. "What would you do without me?"

***

"Oh, I thought of something else today. You want to hear it?" Hyunjae asks, fully knowing you would have no reaction to his question. Once again. "Well, I thought about why else you'd be mad at me. Was it because of the time I was late for our date?"

No, of course not.

"I already apologized for that, but I mean. It was pretty shitty of me."

You reach for the remote to switch to a different drama. Watching TV had seemed like a good idea at first since it would be easier to look at him—you knew he would plant himself right in front of the TV and block your view after all. But the more you look at him, the more it feels as though everything is normal. The way his hair sits, curling slightly at the very tips. The little mole on his nose that you've run your finger across thousands of times. But most of all, the way he gazes back at you with the same loving eyes.

"I should've kept an eye on the time. It would've been so awkward for you to sit there as if I'd stood you up or something."

You turn the TV off entirely.

"It was fun afterwards though, right?" Hyunjae smiles fondly at the memories. "But I'm really glad you stayed. Thank you for waiting, Y/N."

***

"Okay, I remembered something even worse than being late for that date." Hyunjae stretches himself across the table in front of you, where you're back to reading your book. Page 361 this time. "You know what I'm thinking of?"

He must be referring to the time the two of you fought.

A smirk appears on his lips. "Nope, not that," he says as if he could read exactly what you're thinking. Were your expressions that obvious? You'd think that after a whole month of pretending, you'd gotten better at maintaining your resting bitch face in all kinds of situations. "Of course I know what you're thinking. You've always been easy to read, Y/N."

You can't deny that.

"Anyway," he shrugs, "I'm thinking that you're mad at me because of the time I wasn't down to define our relationship."

Oh. That.

"Hey, you can't blame me for that though; I may have been hot, but I thought I wasn't good enough for you."

Hyunjae as a bad boy. The thought makes you want to laugh now.

"I had to clean up a little first you know?" He pouts at you. "Lose all the bad habits and such."

You flip the page. How long would it be until you're done the book at this rate? Page 362 now. Out of 501.

"I thought I did pretty well. Quit the vaping, stopped skipping class. I got a job too." He tries to put on a smile, but he ends up biting his lip instead. His face falls. "But I guess I couldn't lose all the bad habits after all."

Yeah, Hyunjae, you couldn't.

***

Page 373 stares back at you just as hard as you stare at it.

The words weren't going into your mind today, but for a different reason than listening to Hyunjae's usual ramblings. It was the lack of his presence today. Was this a new tactic? Would he be hiding from you, trying to get you to go looking for him?

"Oops, sorry." Hyunjae suddenly appears in his usual seat across from you. He's in the same leather jacket and jeans as always, though you don't have to look up to know. "Am I late? Did I make you wait long?"

Where did you go?

"I see you still haven't made any progress even with me gone," there's a teasing in his voice. "Taking that as a compliment since that means you missed me."

You nearly snort. Of course you missed him. Was that even a question? You missed him every second of every day, even when he was right in front of you.

"I miss you too, Y/N," he says softly. "Please, talk to me."

***

"So you were thinking of the fight last time when I asked what you were mad at me for, right?" Hyunjae says casually as he peers at you. He sits beside you this time instead of across, all stretched out, sprawling his long legs across your lap as you read page 380.

Yeah, the fight.

"Okay, yeah. It was pretty bad. I wouldn't be surprised if it's the only thing you're actually mad at me for." He shifts his feet a little, moving them so that his boots no longer rest on your thighs. Not that you could feel his weight on you. Not that his boots would get your pants dirty. "I was just... really jealous, I guess."

Indeed, he was. Key word being really.

"The things I said that night—I didn't mean them." He moves his legs off from your lap entirely and then shifts closer to you instead. "It didn't need to be a big deal. I'm sorry."

There was no need for him to constantly apologize about the little things in the past either, though you get the feeling each apology wasn't actually for what he said they were for. He was sorry, but not for those insignificant things.

"But hey, you do know that I'm still hotter than Younghoon, right?" Hyunjae snorts, rolling his eyes. "He may have a pretty face, but you know I'm much more than that." Then he leans in so close that your arm is halfway through his body. "Surely, you still remember, right? You always loved to touch my abs when we—"

You close the book. Get up from your seat.

"Hey—I'm not done talking," Hyunjae scrambles to get up and run after you. "I know you can hear me!"

***

Page 413. That's when it happens. The murderer is finally revealed and on his way to getting caught. What would the rest of the book even be about now that the mystery is mostly solved? And why had Hyunjae picked a murder mystery novel to annotate when his little notes weren't even about the book?

Page 413 is the day when you finally scream. Out loud.

You're in the hallway upstairs when you spot him—Hyunjae standing in front of you with his clothes torn and covered in blood. Some of his limbs aren't bent the right way, and the hair that usually sits so perfectly is a mess. And he—he looks similar to when you saw him at the hospital on the day of the accident.

"Shit, sorry sorry sorry," he stammers, eyes wide. Then he disappears.

When he returns, he looks normal like he has for the past two months. But you can't see it when the tears that you've held back for so long now refuse to stay buried beneath the surface.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I didn't even know I could do that," Hyunjae says softly. He sits down on the floor beside you, fingers going to your cheeks to wipe away your tears. But the tears simply continue to fall and fall like he's not there at all. "I didn't mean to do that. Well..." his hands still, dropping to his sides, "maybe I did."

A silence stretches between the faint pattering of your tears on the floor and his silent ones. Your sniffles and his shaky breaths.

"I didn't want you to see that but I just—I didn't know what else to do. Because I couldn't stand another minute of this." His voice fills with despair so you finally look at him. You turn your head and gaze into his eyes that you'd been depriving yourself of for the past months. And you can see the hurt. The disappointment. The way he doesn't understand, would never understand.

"I miss you, okay?" Hyunjae continues. "I know you can see me, so why are you pretending that you can't? Why can't you just talk to me?"

"Hyunjae," slips out of your lips whether you intend for it to or not. "I've wanted to. So much, okay? You have no idea how hard it is to pretend like you're not there. Like—like you don't even exist."

"Then don't. Stop pretending, Y/N. There's no need to."

"And how am I ever supposed to move on? You're not going to be here forever; you shouldn't even be here right now." You wipe your eyes with the back of your hands. "It's easy for you to say when you can just move on. It's the people you leave behind that have to deal with—" A choked sob takes the rest of your sentence. "Why are you still here, Hyunjae?"

"Then," he whispers, "do you want me to leave?"

You shake your head. You weren't ready to say goodbye a second time. Not yet.

***

He's lying in bed next to you like it's just another regular day. And when you're still blinking the remnants of sleep away, seeing his face in the morning light makes your heart thud because it feels so real, as if everything were simply a bad dream and that he's really here beside you. That in this world, he's just fine. That in this world, seeing him beside you means that he's real.

But how could it be real when he's still wearing the leather jacket and the jeans and the biker boots? How could he be real if you don't feel anything when he places his hand on yours? When your arm passes through him instead of gently wrapping around him?

"Shh, you're thinking too loudly," Hyunjae mumbles. "Just close your eyes, okay? Imagine it. I know you remember what this all felt like."

So you close your eyes as he starts to sing softly, and as the sweet melody surrounds you, it's not difficult to imagine it. You imagine a warm Sunday morning with the sun streaming through the window, maybe the smell of fresh laundry and coffee in the air. You imagine the sleepy smile on his face, the way his hair would be all ruffled. You imagine running your fingers through his hair as he pulls you into a kiss, one that you complain about because of morning breath.

He's staring at you when you open your eyes. But this time he's not in the leather jacket and jeans—he's in that baggy white tee he wears to sleep. His hair is messy and there's a dopey smile on his face, and you could just about feel the warmth of his fingers as they slide between your own. The way he traces your features and brushes your tears away. As if he were living, breathing, tangible.

"Let's just pretend for a second, okay?" His voice comes out sounding a little sad despite his light words. "It's Sunday morning. Are we grabbing brunch? Or do you want to check out that new cafe just around the corner?"

"We could just sleep in a little more."

Hyunjae frowns. "That's such a waste of the day, Y/N. There's so much to do and so much to see in the world."

Those were the familiar words that he's always said, but now they only make your heart break a little at the bitter truth: Hyunjae would never be able to see the world now.

"Let's make the most of it, hmm?" he continues. "I say we go to brunch first. Get that bottomless mimosa there, then follow up with coffee at the cafe. You already know it's going to be a hell of a day when you're going the alcohol before caffeine route."

You try to put on a smile. "And then?"

"People-watch a little at the cafe. I would complain about how the barista drew your latte art much better than he did for mine. And you would laugh."

"Of course he would've drawn mine better. I'm the charming one here," you tease. "What kind of problematic people are we watching?"

"Hmm. An awkward first date where one of them just doesn't talk at all." Hyunjae finally puts on a smile too. "I think they're too busy staring at me."

You nod, humming in agreement. "You are quite nice to stare at, indeed."

"Then we'd take our drinks to go and maybe visit a park."

"Oh are we watching dogs now?"

"We are actually playing with dogs," he corrects, drawing circles along your wrist. "Petting competition. I bet they like me more."

"I wouldn't be surprised. They've always liked you more."

Hyunjae simply smiles at you.

The rest of the day is filled with familiar events: the garden you wanted to revisit, that restaurant where he was late to your date, a museum where the two of you had faked your age to get a youth discount. Wine and cheese at the exhibition as you pretend to be a rich couple looking to buy the perfect piece for your lavish mansion this time.

Then it would be coming home to a snack and a bath as you talk about your favourite parts of the day. And when you listen to him complain about the bees and try to scrub the red wine off his shirt, maybe you'd realize that simply living through the events of the day made you love him a little more. More than yesterday and less than tomorrow, as he always said.

"And then we'd fall asleep in each other's arms at the same time, obviously," he pokes you on the nose. "Well, actually maybe I'd wait for you to fall asleep first so I can stare at you without you wanting to fight me."

"I would wake up just to fight you," you laugh. "But could we stay up all night instead? What if I don't want the day to end?"

Hyunjae breaks into a soft smile. "Then we can do it all again the next day. We have all the time in the world, Y/N. That's what happens when you're in love."

You don't understand what he means at first. But when the next day starts, you realize that he's right. The look of love on his face and the feel of it in your throbbing heart—it's something that simply cannot be contained by time or by life itself.

***

"How did you know that I could see you?" you ask when he finally appears in the living room. A two day gap this time—it's the longest he's been gone so far. And yet, you hadn't worried about his absence because you knew that he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.

"Hi, Y/N. How was your day? I missed you too." Hyunjae raises an eyebrow at your question. "It was that first morning. You looked right at me and asked why I didn't shut off your alarm."

"I did?"

"Yeah, quite impatiently too. I didn't even get to scold you for talking to the dead so rudely before you rolled over and went right back to sleep." He stops when he notices your wince. "Um. Too soon?"

"Yeah." You try for a wry smile. At least his sense humour hasn't changed, but even then, some things are too painful to hear. "So you mean all the effort I put into convincing you I couldn't see you was for nothing?"

"Yup, exactly. But it's okay though," he says dramatically. "It was fun watching you try to control your face."

"I can imagine that."

He laughs a little before a silence falls between you. The book on the table is still on page 413, right where you left it all those days ago. There was no need to pretend to read it anymore after giving in to freely talking to him.

"Can you feel it?" you finally decide to ask what's been on your mind. If the increasingly long stretches of his absence were any indication, it wouldn't be too long before he has to leave. "Where you're supposed to go next."

Hyunjae hesitates before he gives a small nod. "Yeah."

"Oh. What does it feel like?"

You reach out to him, letting your hand float in the air where his cheeks are. Letting your fingers trace over his features. Maybe it would look strange from the outside, as if you're really just writing something out in the empty air in front of you. But if he could feel things, maybe there's some part of him that could feel you too.

"It's warm. Inviting." He hums to himself a little, his gaze travelling all over you as if trying to memorize this moment. Trying to memorize you. "It feels like... going home."

"Oh." You look away briefly, holding onto the tears that were threatening to fall once again. "Should you go?"

Hyunjae shakes his head. "Not yet." The corners of his lips curve up the slightest and his eyes soften. "It doesn't feel like the right time yet."

"Hyunjae, is there something tying you here?"

"Maybe I just don't want to go." He gives a little shrug, suddenly avoiding your gaze. "Maybe I don't need it because all that warmth and happiness—I'm already have it, Y/N. It's what being loved by you feels like."

"No, no—Hyunjae, please. You can't—you have to go, okay? You can't stay here like this."

"I know, and I will when the time comes," he says lightly, resting his hand on top of yours. "I'm not sure when it will be, but I'll try my best to stay at least until you finish the book."

"The book?" You stare back at him, confused. "Do I have to finish it? What if I don't want to? What if I just keep pretending to read the same page just so I can keep hearing your voice?"

He opens his mouth but closes it again. Looks away. "You should. Finish it."

"Why?"

"I want you to."

You frown at his answer. "Does it matter that much?"

Hyunjae shrugs a little at that. Bites his lip as the sparkle in his eyes slowly dims.

"Okay. If it means that much to you, I'll do it."

And the next day, you pick up the book once again.

***

Page 467 is blank. Blank not from the lack of text, but from the lack of Hyunjae's tiny scrawl filling the margins. This page and the next, and even the one after that are filled with an emptiness that seemed to mirror the hole in your heart.

"Why did your annotations stop?"

Hyunjae stares at you for a minute in silence, eyes wavering as if debating whether to tell you what he has on his mind. But he seems to decide against it when he finally shrugs. "Guess I got tired of writing them. They weren't about the book anyway."

"I noticed," you nod. "What was the point of writing them if they weren't about the book?"

"Well, I know you wanted an annotated book as a gift. So I wrote in it, even though I didn't actually read the book."

"You—didn't read the book?"

Hyunjae shakes his head. "That's why they're not about the book. I just thought it would be nice to pretend like I read it but actually leave you some messages instead."

"Oh. You didn't have to do it then."

"I know you wanted it though," a small smile dances across his lips, "even if it was just a dumb idea you got from some random quiz online."

"Hey!" You reach over to smack him jokingly, and he dodges as he's always done. Only for both of you to soon realize what you've done moments later. The smile falls from his face.

"It wasn't dumb." He clears his throat. "I was just kidding. Actually, I kind of understood what made it so special after reading yours."

"You should've told me to leave you cute messages too. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Oh, this was just an excuse to not read the book," he laughs, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry about it."

"So um," you start tentatively. "Should I keep reading it even if there are no more of your notes?"

"Yeah," Hyunjae nods. "Keep reading, Y/N."

"Okay."

And when you look at him, the relief on his face tells you that maybe he doesn't want you to finish the book so soon either.

***

"I thought of a final reason you'd be mad at me," Hyunjae says slowly. His face is impassive, unreadable like it's been a lot of the days recently.

"I was never mad at you, Hyunjae. I was only ignoring you because..." You trail off. "Well, you know why."

"Yeah, but you have every right to be mad. And I'm sorry, I really am."

You immediately know what he's talking about. "Hey," you blurt, "let's not—please, don't go there."

"I'm fucking sorry, Y/N. I am, but it's too late. I should've listened to you. I should've—" he breaks off to wipe his eyes with his sleeve.

You shake your head. "Don't be. It's done, Hyunjae. Just let it go."

"How can I just let it go? I'll always be sorry to you, Y/N, but also to myself. You think I like being here, stuck like this? Like I'm nothing? Unable to do anything for you? In this," he gestures, "whatever limbo this is. Without knowing when I'll ever see you again, or where I'm going next, or how long I have left."

"Hyunjae, please. Stop."

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, yanking on it as he paces around. "I said that I was going to do better. I promised you. Each time I'd said it would be my last ride, but I didn't mean it like this." Then he suddenly stops. "And then... this one really became my last. The one thing that I couldn't quit is what killed me."

Then he disappears, leaving you and the sound of your sobs alone in the room.

***

You finally get to page 501. Towards the end it's been less about the story and more about reading it for the sake of Hyunjae, because why had he wanted you to finish it so badly? So that you could discuss a plot twist or a terrible ending? Or brainstorm about what happens if it's left on a cliff-hanger? But he hadn't even read the book.

Hyunjae watches you as you slowly turn the page. You watch him as he watches you. You want to see if his eyes would give anything away, but there's nothing there other than the tint of sadness that you've been seeing a lot these days.

And there, on the last page of the book, was not text at all. It wasn't the final paragraph nor was it an author's note. The book had finished on page 500.

It was Hyunjae's own writing. A few neat lines in black pen.

500 dates with you, and maybe now it's time to start a new chapter of our lives. A new book.

Y/N, will you marry me?

"And here I've always thought that playboy Hyunjae would get tired of me," you mumble, closing the book before any tears could ruin it. "That he would break my heart one day and years later when I look back, it would just have been a fun time. A good experience."

"No," Hyunjae shakes his head. "Playboy Hyunjae would be stupid to let go of someone like you. Though I guess I'm not much better. Still so stupid until the very end."

"It's okay. I loved that about you too."

A single tear slips out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't brush it away. "We could've been so happy, you know?"

"I know. We were, and we still are, Hyunjae. We're happy. You've made me so happy since I met you."

"Then that's all that matters." He puts on a sad smile. "We have all the time in the world when we're in love, Y/N."

And this time, you understand him. It wasn't more than yesterday and less than tomorrow like he'd always said. Love in itself is something greater than all of the tomorrows that had been promised to you, and all of the tomorrows that had been robbed from him. Because even when tomorrow comes and the tomorrow after that, it will still silently sit on your shoulders and slip out with each tear and rest between the pages of a book left incomplete too soon.

"We never made it to 500 dates, did we?"

The hint of a smile falters. He shakes his head. "That's why my notes in the book stopped."

"They don't have to stop," you whisper, cupping his face. Wiping the stray tears. Going through all the motions in the hopes that maybe he could feel something even if you couldn't. "I'll continue them."

"Yeah, do that. That's good. I don't want you to forget me, but you can't miss me too much, okay?"

"Why, are you going to suddenly appear and stop me from missing you?"

He doesn't laugh at your futile attempt at a joke. "I wish I could," he says sadly. "Oh yeah, don't be too surprised when the flowers show up on our anniversary."

"You ordered flowers?"

Hyunjae nods. "Found this nice flower shop run by one of Eric's friends. I figured it would... be nice to have. When I would've actually proposed."

"You were going to propose on our anniversary?" The lump in your throat grows but you swallow it, trying to make your voice stay even.

"I thought we would hit 500 dates by then." He bites his lip, looking down. "You never gave me an answer."

You take his hand in yours. "My answer is yes, Hyunjae. I would marry you in a heartbeat."

"That's good." He looks up and smiles now, a genuine, full smile that rivals the sunshine at the garden that day. The type of smile that you've missed so badly. "I think that's all I needed to know."

The last thing tying him to you and to this world. He wanted you to finish reading the book so that he could find the answer he was staying behind to look for.

"Are you leaving now?"

"Yeah. It's time to go." Hyunjae gives a small nod. "Don't forget me, alright? I love you, Y/N."

"Thank you for everything, Hyunjae."

And just as suddenly as he had appeared in your life on that one sunny day in college years ago, now he disappears without a trace, only leaving the pain in your heart and the tear stains on your face as evidence of having been here at all.

***

It gets pretty silent in the house after that, like you're grieving him all over again. Was it selfish that he made you say goodbye twice? Was it more painful to have dealt with the glimmering piece of hope he gave, each night when he told you stories while you pretended to read? When he had made you pretend like everything was just fine, if only for a brief moment in time?

You complete the rest of the annotations in his book. Filling the rest of the empty margins with everything from the time he started telling you lame pickup lines to get a reaction out of you, to the time he complained about unemployment, to the time you finally gave in and looked at him. There were the days the two of you pretended like everything was fine. The times you planned out your hypothetical future as if weaving a story of your own.

When you finally get to page 501, a bouquet of tiny blue flowers shows up at your door. The card it comes with is filled with an unfamiliar writing, but it sounds just like Hyunjae, nonetheless.

Y/N! Don't forget that I'll love you more than yesterday but less than tomorrow.

And as you tuck the card into the book between its final pages, you realize that regardless of the number of tomorrows you have left, the love he gave you would've been worth more than all of them.

[poppywrites41]

Captive Love Ch. 2

Prince! Yoongi x Maid! Reader

Here is chapter 2! This chapter will focus on Y/N’s first day of work…and maybe a little bit of a cliffhanger.

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing, violence, description of past deaths, mentions of smut

Prev | Next

“Rise and shine girls!” Lilith shouts through the halls of the servants’ quarters, her meaty fists pounding on each of the girl’s doors. Y/N swears she can feel her room shake every time that woman’s fist comes in contact with a door. “You all have 10 minutes to get dressed and come down to eat!” Lilith calls, her heels clacking away. Y/N raises her arms up to stretch. She looks out of her small window to see a garden with a path that leads to a small set of doors going into the back of the castle. She turns to her cupboard and takes out her servant’s outfit. She takes off her dress that she wore yesterday, neatly folded it like her mother taught her to, and placed it in the cupboard. She took a look at the outfit laid out on the bed. It was not elegant in the slightest, but it was sure prettier than any outfit she had worn in her life. It was a pretty beige with ¾ sleeves that were flexible enough to move the arms comfortably to perform the needed tasks. The skirt was neatly fitted on the waist and ran to the ankles. It was not puffy at all and had a comfortable feel to it. And to top it all off, pretty little white lace ruffles were added to the ends of the sleeves and around the top opening to give it some style, which Y/N really appreciated. When she got the dress on, Y/N took a look at herself in the small mirror hanging on her wall above her tiny sink. She spotted some dirt on her cheeks, probably from the wagon, so she splashed her face with water, rubbing at her skin. After her facewash, she noticed how messy her hair had gotten. She ran her fingers through the h/c locks and tied the hair in the front to the back, creating a half up-half down style. She made her way to her door, slipping on her shoes and head down the hall to the servants dining hall.

When she arrived, she found a seat at a table where some of the girls she arrived with yesterday were sitting at. They were not talking to each other as much as the other servants were, probably because they were new or nervous. Y/N sat down next to a young girl with dark brown hair. Once she sat down, an older woman brought her a tray with a piece of bread, some water and a small bowl of what looked like to be chicken broth. Y/N turned to the girl and offered a small smile, “Hi, I’m Y/N. We came together on the wagon yesterday. Sorry for not introducing myself earlier.” The girl’s hazel eyes met hers and she gave Y/N a small smile, “It’s okay. I’m Emily. I don’t really talk when I’m nervous. I have a lot of anxiety when I feel pressured.” She said in a quiet tone. “I get it. I am totally nervous. I mean, yesterday I was living my normal life and now suddenly, I’m a servant to the royal family. The people who I thought of as family, gave me away for money without a second thought.” Y/N said taking a bite of her bread and immediately chasing it down with some water. Emily frowned, “I’m sorry to hear that.” “So,” Y/N said after eating a spoonful of the bland broth, “How did you get here?” Emily looked down at her food and played with it with her spoon, “I’m actually a twin. My sister and I are daughters of bakers. My mom and dad worked so hard their entire life, baking for the royal family. My sister was a big help in the kitchen. She is so smart, kind, outgoing and beautiful. She is pretty much everything I am not. I would usually mess up tasks that would get me in trouble, but she would always defend me. My parents loved me, don’t get me wrong, they were just worried about me a lot. I wasn’t let out a lot. I could have been an embarrassment to them. Then, my sister met a man who came from a good family. They fell in love and are to be married. However, the guards came before the wedding and were trying to get my parents to give them my sister for a large sum of money. So that’s when I volunteered myself to go in her place. I didn’t want her to leave everything behind and to ruin her chance of a happily ever after, so I went in her place.” Y/N looked at the girl with awe, “You are such a good and brave sister to go in her place. I’m sure she is very thankful for you. I don’t think you are an embarrassment. Just stick with me and we will get through this together!” Emily smiles at her and nods in agreement. Before anything else could be said, Lilith’s voice was booming throughout the room, “Mealtime is over! Everyone sit down a listen. Tomorrow is the Grand Royal Gala so we will need to clean the castle extra today. Royal families from all over the country will be attending so I want that castle spotless. Here are the groups and their tasks for the day. Rosetta, you and your hall will clean the floors and windows of the ball room. Claire, take your girls and polish all of the utensils and dishware. Isabel, you and your hall are in charge of cleaning the dinning hall. I want that space especially clean.”

While scrubbing away the dirt on the floor of the halls, Y/N reflected on what Elizabeth informed them about the royal family:

First off, the king. He has his own personal servants who clean, dress and cook for him, so it was highly unlikely for her to be involved with him. He is a strict ruler and likes for everything to be perfect. He does not interfere much with his sons’ lives, but he is more attentive to his two eldest sons. He wants to make sure they are both well-educated and fit enough to rule the kingdom when his time is up.

Same goes for the queen. She is a more carefree person than her husband. She enjoys balls and festivities. She interacts more with her sons than her spouse, but definitely more with her youngest sons, since the older ones are with the king or in counsel or military meetings. She clearly loves her family but is not the most observant or caring mother. She lets them do as they please.

Now, the eldest prince, Prince Seokjin. He is the next in line for the throne. Elizabeth said that he is very serious about his role in the family. With his brothers, he can be a fun person who will crack jokes and enjoy the company of others. But when wronged, he can be a completely different person. He once chopped off a chef’s fingers for making a soup too spicy for his liking and fed those fingers to his dogs. Since he will most likely become king in the near future, more galas will be held to find the prince a suitable wife. Overall, Y/N believes that she will not be in contact with the prince very often either.

The second eldest is Prince Yoongi, the second in line for the throne. According to Elizabeth, he rarely shows his face in public. He is extremely introverted. He keeps to himself, usually in his room where he will write poems, or he will be sleeping. Even with his introverted nature, he is somewhat of a genius. Elizabeth said that when he was a teenager, the king went to war with a foreign land and was at a disadvantage. It was Prince Yoongi, at age 16, that stepped in and completely remodeled the military tactics, which won them the war. However, like his brother, when wronged, he turns into a beast. One day, he was asleep in his room when a servant came in to clean. The servant did not notice the prince asleep and continued his task. It was not until he accidentally knocked the prince’s favorite ink off of his table and spilled it on the ground. The prince woke up in a rage. The man tried to apologize to the prince, only to have himself sent to the dungeons for a week with no food or water. On the last day, Prince Yoongi went down to see the servant, only to behead him himself.

When Elizabeth told them that story, Y/N felt deep chills run down her spine. Hopefully she won’t have to interact with Yoongi during her time at the castle.

From what she heard about the third and fourth oldest princes, Hoseok and Namjoon, they are not as hot tempered as the two eldest. Hoseok is a kind person with a bubbly personality, but when he is pushed the wrong way, he can be a force to be reckoned with. Namjoon on the other hand has not publicly displayed any hostile actions. He is extremely smart and a good leader. From what Elizabeth said, Namjoon is somewhat of a leader to all the brothers. He is very considerate of all of their opinions and is able to settle any arguments between the brothers. Y/N does not suspect to have any issues with those two princes.

Now the last three. Jimin and Taehyung, the fraternal twins who like to cause mischief in the palace. They seem to like to pick on the staff and belittle anyone who is of lower status then themselves. Out of the two of them, Taehyung is more sadistic. He will keep harassing staff members until they leave, hurt themselves or commit suicide. Jimin on the other hand, likes to make people, especially the women he has accompany him in his chambers, feel like they cannot survive without him. Whenever he has wronged one of his girls and they try to talk to him about it, he uses his charming attitude and well-chosen words to turn the whole conversation around onto the girls. He would make them feel like they were the ones who wronged him, and they would apologize to him and swear that they will do better.

Last but not least, the youngest prince, Jungkook. He had everything handed to him on a diamond plate. Elizabeth noted that his beauty almost rivals that of his oldest brother and Jungkook knows it. She said that he excels in anything he does. However, he is probably the scariest out of all the brothers. Jungkook can get away with anything…ANYTHING. Apparently, he was in love with a princess once and planned on marrying her. One day before he planned on proposing to her, he caught her having sex with one of his guards in the library. Furious, he went to his room and waited for her to return. When she did, he asked her where she was, and she lied to him saying that she went for a walk in the palace garden. Jungkook then called the guard she was with into his room and had two guards block the doors out of his room. He tied the princess to a chair, ignoring her cries trying to convince him that she would never cheat on him. He then ordered the guard to remove all of his clothing, leaving him nude. Jungkook had the guard put on prison cuffs himself while the prince hammered a hook into the wall. He beckoned the naked guard to lift his cuffed hands onto the hook. Once everything was in place, he slowly began to castrate the guard, relishing in the man’s screams of agony and the princesses’ shrill screams of horror. After he castrated him, Jungkook swiftly sliced the man’s neck, causing blood to spew out from the slash and him to choke on his own blood, all the while Jungkook forced the princess to watch. Once the man’s body stopped twitching, he untied the frozen princess and took her to his balcony. The princess began apologizing to the prince promising that she will never be unfaithful to him ever again, swearing her loyalty to him and begging for his forgiveness. He gave her a warm smile and gave her a small kiss on the lips, telling her that she is forgiven. And Just as the princess began to relax, Jungkook shoved her over the balcony and watched her body fall to ground. When the prince’s parents found out, they sent word to the princesses’ father that she had run off with a man and that they cannot find them anywhere. The princesses’ father believed them and sent search parties all around the country, never to find out the truth about what happened to his daughter. It’s because of that incident that Jungkook ends the lives of those who betray him.

All of a sudden, she heard something being knocked over and water spilling. Then a sudden cry of pain. Worried that one of girls hurt themselves, Y/N immediately got up and ran down the hall towards the noise, ignoring Emily telling her not to involve herself.

Y/N could hear a males voice from down the hall, “You stupid whore!! Your spilled you water on my fucking new shoes!!”

Once she turned the corner to where she would find the girl, her eyes widened, and her heart stopped.

[nemainofthewater]

10 Characters, 10 Fandoms, 10 Tags

Thanks for tagging me (again) @thebansacredbanned! I'll try and onward tag different people from the last game.

Lin Chen - Nirvana in Fire

2. Gu Jie - Suddenly Trending

3. Cao Cao - most media, but the one that first came to mind was Wang Kai in Dynasty Warriors

4. Shi Jingzhi - Sendoff

5. Yu Hua - Mr Melancholy Wants to Live a Peaceful Life

6. Bai Yueguang - Your Rival in Love Gets Prettier Every Day

7. Consort Yue - Love Like the Galaxy

8. Cheng Suyue - Strong Winds Return Home

9. Lin Yanyan - Becoming Popular through the "All Villains" Variety Show

10. Yun Biqiu - Mysterious Lotus Casebook

(yes i know that I panicked and the majority of these are webnovels.... does it count as fandom if there isn't an English one?)

Tagging: @fateandloveentwined, @liuet, @redemption-revenge, @erizosan1, @inimitablereel, @luzzeagain, @tofu-robot, @teddybearsandspaceships, @llonkrebboj, @jill-question-mark and anyone else who wants to play!

[doubledgesword-2]

Can I get Vil Schoenheit x Rival Celebrity? They shoot insults at each other but end up flirting? Take it as far as you want! Any gender reader is fine lol

Oh, ma Gooosh!! This is the first Matcha Tea I've gotten, and I'm all for this. I had so much fun with this one, and I want to show you lil' sugar cubes the difference between characters I know and the ones that I don't. I do my research before writing a character that I'm unfamiliar with, but I will be sincere: I butchered the last request (Shalnark's). I will try to rewrite it, but other characters apart from the stated ones are a bit hard for me ( ˘︹˘ ).

I will always try my best for ya'll! Enjoy this steaming Matcha (❛‿❛✿)

“What a shameless potato,” nimble fingers scrolled down on their phone, looking at the menagerie of pictures from one single account: yours.

You and Vil were from the same industry, just not the same department per se. While he was a model and actor, you were a j pop star and actress. Your popularity and his were on the same level, but he was slightly higher if you asked him or his fans. Ever since the two of you met on set for a fantasy-like movie, you repelled each other’s presence like oil and water.

Amethyst eyes glared at your smiling picture, and a thousand critiques passed through his mind. Your make-up did not complement your features; what was your make-up artist thinking? That nail polish didn’t match with your skin, and your haircut didn’t go with your face and countless other thoughts. But that wasn’t his place to tell, and besides, you living in his head rent-free wasn’t good for his skin. Stress kills, and thinking about you was very stressful.

The subway doors opened, and Vil gripped his side bag, adjusting his beret and sunglasses and walking out with the amount of confidence and power it took to walk down the runway. The sea of people diligently coming and going parted for him without a cue. They just did like mindless fish around a predator. It was in their nature to give in, in the presence of something so regal.

Vil had a photoshoot to go, and he couldn’t miss a beat. His agenda was full and complicated; anyone who tried to follow it would surely lose their minds after the first three days of the same arduous pace. But he could handle it with the grace of a swan. He was the great Vil Shoenheit. He wondered if you could handle a week in his shoes. You probably would drop exhausted and disheveled, complaining about the hard work. The thought made him smirk smugly, and passerby fans who recognized him couldn’t even keep up to ask for an autograph.

He just couldn’t fathom how you had such a fan base with your attitude and manners. Sure, in front of the cameras, you were a sweetheart, stealing everyone’s hearts, singing like an empowered angel, and making them think you were as far from the villain he knew you truly were. Vil knew your kind and recognized it the moment he met you on set. Heck, you couldn’t even contain your disdain in interviews when the two of you had to sit side by side. It was uncomfortable, to say the least; the poor reporter was so painfully awkward trying to alleviate the tenseness in the room.

“So (Y/N), how do you feel being an actress in a big-budget movie while also singing and performing the next week? Is it exhausting?”

You sided glared at Vil, and gave the reporter a smug grin. “Well, I think I can handle a little bit of work. It’s not in me to sit around and look pretty, you know. But then again, I guess that’s what some people are into, so we can’t judge them. They might not understand hard work.”

Vil smiled with closed eyes. You were such an amateur. If it weren’t for the fact that you were actively throwing shade on him and being so annoying at it, too, he might think you were cute.

Of course, Vil wouldn’t back down; that’s not what he was taught. The crown was his, and he would take it with hard work and determination. Which means potatoes like you don’t really matter in the long run of things.

“Vil-senpai, how do you manage your modeling gig and your acting? I mean, it must be hard to run from one event to the next since they’re so close behind each other?”

“Well, dear, we models are more than just a pretty face. We represent big companies and events that many couldn’t even fathom getting into. My schedule might be a bit tight, but I was born into this lifestyle, and I have learned many skills to help me move and work in these types of environments. I can say one thing for sure not a lot of people can handle my agenda, one day in my heels, and they might slip if you know what I mean, darling.”

You scoffed under your breath, and it made Vil’s smile grow wider.

“Ahh, Vil-senpai is a hard worker for sure. Perhaps one day I could do an interview that can provide insight to one day of your agenda.”

“Anytime you want, darling, it would be lovely,” he knew with every word that came out of his mouth; you simmered even more.

“Are there any hobbies or activities that can fit into your schedules?

Vil was about to open his mouth when you beat him to it.

“Well, I don’t think he’s allowed to have any, you know, with his busy schedule. But I do love partaking in (hobby). I think it is a nice way to unwind and take my mind off of everything. Since stress it’s not good for your vocals, you know. I try to keep myself in top shape for my lovely fans.”

Vil was raging. How dare you interrupt him when he was clearly about to talk. Didn’t your parent taught you any manners, or are you so much of a spoiled brat to care for?

“Ahh, interesting. Does Vil Sendai have any hobbies in particular?

“As a matter of fact, I do” you were looking at him with an expectant smirk. You were genuinely curious to hear what he had to say. “I like to make beauty and make-up tutorials that are beneficial for a lot of my fans. I like to show them how to use brushes correctly what and what not to do with concealer. Those are bonding moments for me and my fans. I think they are important.”

At the end of that interview, a single question brought the anger and tense meter to burst. Now the tensions and dislikes weren’t palpable. They were visible.

“Oh, I’ve had some partners, but I like to focus more on my work, unlike some other artists who like to jump around; my projects come first, and I don’t want to ruin my partner’s and I relationship by not spending enough time with them.”

“Wow, he really doesn’t like to have fun.”

“I do just not with the likes of you.”

“Come on, pretty boy, you couldn’t handle me even if you were begging pretty on your knees.”

“Dream on, potato, you might be prettier than most potatoes, but you’re still that a potato with some potential. I bet if push came to shove, you wouldn’t last seconds with me.

“I bet you wouldn’t make it into the second round without having to retouch your make-up with me. Besides, it’s not like you’ll last long enough to even sweat that much.”

“Well, that’s a relief to know I wouldn’t have to put much effort into pleasing someone like you.”

The reporter was utterly flushed, and that was cut from the interview recording. Good thing that it was, or people might’ve gotten the wrong impression. That you liked each other or something.

Or something.

After that interview, rumors spread like they always do, and fans started gossiping about the two of you secretly together but having to hate each other in public to save face since it’s a big rumor that singers and models don’t actually go well together in the industry.

Such wild imagination and machinations fans have. It brought out a small chuckle.

Vil passed through the automatic doors telling the receptionist his name and guiding him to the set. Once there, he settled his stuff over the make-up table and sat back to look once more through his phone.

“Have you seen this?” A text notification annoying appeared on the screen.

Vil tch and opened the message to reveal a very well photoshopped photo of him and you sitting and drinking at some café. You were smiling like he just told you you were beautiful, and it was a good look on you.

This was outrageous. Who would go to such lengths? Suddenly a bag dropped right on the table next to him. He looked up to meet your eyes as you took off your sunglasses, slowly realizing who was sitting beside you.

“Oh no,” you faintly muttered underneath your breath but not faintly enough that Vil couldn’t hear you.

He scoffed and went back to look at the stupid picture, texting his manager as mad as he was.

“Oh, you saw it too,” you commented, sitting down and looking at your own phone.

Vil didn’t answer. He really didn’t care about your opinion on this; his credibility was on the line. He was supposed to hate you, and that’s how things should go.

“Well, at least they got a good angle of my face, not to mention I’m actually smiling for once.”

“Actually, smil- what are you talking about potato? All you do is smile in all of your pictures. That’s why you have to hide your wrinkles with make-up,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Well, as presumptuous as that was, proud little peacock, I actually never smile genuinely for the cameras. My genuine smile is reserved for good moments. I guess not anymore.”

At that, Vil felt like the two of you clicked. He knew the feeling, the invasive nature of fame, and the lack of privacy was very real in the industry. It’s the first thing you have to get through. But listening to you say made him realize you’re just like him.

“Well, if you behave during the shoot, I might feel inclined to reward you for good behavior” he grinned at you.

“Mmm, you make it sound as if you don’t like the way I make you crumble in front of everyone. It’s like you’re denying yourself the pleasure, and here I thought you liked the masochism.”

“Hahahaha, I’ll step on you once we’re done here. Maybe that and a little bit of discipline will put you in your place. However, your lack of manners and running mouth might be a problem; perhaps all you need is a nice pacifier. I can help with that.”

You both were so close to each other muttering salacious threats that you didn’t realize how flustered everyone else was in the room.

It was going to be another one of those shoots.

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Irresistibly Yours

Chapter 4 - My Apologies

Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?

Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - None

WC - 2551

Square Filled - Fluff ( @girl-next-door-writes's Make Me Feel Bingo); Neighbours AU ( @anyfandomfluffbingo )

A/N - A new chapter! Hope you enjoy reading this!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 <33

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Click. Click. Click.

Adjusting her glasses on the nose, Y/N toyed around with the pen in hand, blankly staring at the kitchen wall. The empty sheet of paper sat there on the table, glaring at her. It was a bit old-school, considering her laptop was lying only a small distance away but this was how she preferred to work on her novel. It had nothing to do with her laziness.

The fear of another rejection was weighing heavily on her and she was really close to giving up on her dream of being an actually published writer. However, after her little pep talk to herself last night, she had this new indomitable spirit ignited inside her. Though that spirit was fading away with every passing minute now.

Y/N dropped the pen on the table with a huff, its metallic body hitting the wooden surface of the table as she got up to make herself a cup of coffee. Now, she might not want to admit it, but her novel wasn't the only thing that was troubling her.

A stranger’s callous comments should never hurt so much but when Dean called her stupid or rather a brainless idiot, for some reason, Y/N took it to the heart. She had then come to the conclusion that he was an ass and it was futile to even try and start a healthy relationship, but the bouquet of flowers sitting on the counter in front of her changed every perception of him yet again.

Ms. L/N, I didn't have any intentions of humiliating you. I'm really sorry. I hope you accept this small token of apology.

Walking up to the counter, Y/N picked up the small, white card and read the handwritten apology for the hundredth time that day. She didn't know if she should be impressed at his tacky methods of apologies or be annoyed at him for wrecking her mental sanity. Shaking off her thoughts, she was just about to dive back right into her writing when the coffee machine beeped.

“This is not gonna work.” She sighed, pouring one cup of the warm liquid and bringing it close to her lips. After finishing her drink, she decided to go out on a walk to clear her head but just as she stepped out of her house, she heard soft pitter patters of feet out in the hallway before a small figure of a hazel-eyed girl came into her sight.

Y/N tilted her head in confusion as the little girl ran in the halls. She looked around for her parents, but didn't see anyone else.

“Hey, pretty girl. What are you doing out here all alone?” She called out to the girl, making her stop in her tracks and look at Y/N.

“Daddy says not to talk to strangers.” She said while she cautiously approached the woman anyway.

“Where's your Dad?" She smiled softly, " I'm Y/N. See now you know me.”

“Daddy's-”

“I told you to stay inside, babygirl.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the all too familiar voice of her ridiculously handsome neighbor before the tall figure of the man himself appeared in front of her. His eyes were focused on the little girl as he walked up to her. Dean crouched down to her height, hands gently placed on her shoulders. “Never go anywhere alone again. Alright?”

Does he have a daughter?

But she had never seen the girl before. Y/N was in awe as she saw the grumpy facade fade away when he talked with her. She realised that there were so many things about Dean that she truly didn't know. Maybe she had, after all, misjudged him on some petty conflicts.

“At least your kid was within the building.” Y/N said.

“Ms. L/N.” Dean regarded and turned to look at her. He shuffled on his feet which made Y/N raise a curious brow.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester.” A look of guilt with an underlying hurt flashed in his eyes when she didn't acknowledge him by his first name. He was very sure his effort at a decent apology had been appalling and it made him wince, thinking of the awfully cringy card he had curated by his own hand to convey his regrets.

“She is pwetty.” The girl tapped his knee, attracting his attention while looking at Y/N.

“Y-yeah.” Heat crept up Y/N’s neck when she heard Dean agree with the kid. A moment of awkward silence passed as Dean looked back up at the woman, this time his gaze not faltering making the woman’s cheeks warm up even more. “She is pretty, baby.”

“You are prettier. Look at you! You look absolutely stunning in that dress and hair!” Y/N jumped in deciding to not make the situation more awkward. She hoped that Dean was maintaining his usual poker face, but instead, the corner of his lips tugged up in a little smile as the girl diverted her attention to Y/N.

“Uncle De did my hair.” She said proudly and Y/N stared at Dean. Uncle De? Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought of him to be such a gentle soul. She now remembered that the last time she saw Dean, he had told her about meeting up with his brother.

“He did an excellent job, I see.” The woman said as Dean got up and stood up straight. “What's your name, pretty girl?” She looked up at Dean, as he nodded his head.

“Ava.” She muttered.

“So Ava, remember next time to not go anywhere without Uncle De’s permission. Promise?” Y/N said and walked up closer to the two humans as Ava nodded her head agreeing to her proposition, all the while Dean’s eyes trailed along the woman's every movement. He was the best in his profession and he excelled at reading his client's body languages to figure out conflict, but Y/N was like a puzzle to him right now so he decided to take matters in his own hands.

“I hope you liked the flowers.” There it was, subtle, but at least he owned up to his apology. Y/N observed him for a moment, watching as he was nervously wringing his hands together. He seemed nervous around her. This wasn't the Dean Winchester she had come to know in the last few, quite unfortunate encounters.

“I did.” Y/N wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. He tightly held Ava’s hand to not let her out of his sight.

“De-” she pouted, “Uncle De!” The said man looked down at his niece.

“Stay put for a moment, babygirl. Uncle De needs to talk to this lovely young lady. Then we can go and get ice cream, like I had promised.” He said, before looking up at Y/N. “Listen, I'm sorry for what happened that day. I did not-” Sighing, Dean said before he was unceremoniously cut off by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

His face scrunched up as he stared at his phone screen. Sucking in a deep breath, he let the phone ring until the caller reached the voicemail. He chewed on his plump, pink lip when his phone lit up with a voice message. Y/N had an instinct he was avoiding someone, maybe an ex. Dean must have had some girlfriends.

“I'm sorry, I was saying-” the phone rang again and Dean was so close to throwing the little device against the wall.

“I think you should take that, which seems important. And I would leave you with your work things. I was going out for a walk anyway. Have a good day, Winchester.” Y/N said and walked right past the man.

“Hold up!” Y/N stopped walking before turning around to face the lawyer. “I never had the intention of hurting you.”

“Then you know the story wrong.” She said, shrugging

“Well if we study closely, the scarecrow was actually very intelligent but he never realised it.” Dean shrugged.

“So you're saying that I act stupid.” This time Y/N wasn't offended but she liked watching him squirm.

“N-no I didn't mean that-” He struggled to come up with yet another apology. “Can we drop the subject of the scarecrow? Let's just pretend the story doesn't exist in this context.” Y/N chuckled at the poor man, making him shake his head lightly.

“It's okay, Dean. Go, get the kid some ice cream.” She smiled.

“Join me for a drink sometime.” Dean blurted out without thinking. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he stared at Y/N, trying to gauge her reaction.

“I never pegged you for a guy to ask me for a drink.” She raised a brow at him.

“The card and flowers were pretty lame, I agree…but I do owe you a drink, or maybe a coffee, whatever you prefer.” He said. He knew his method of apologising was crappy but at that moment it was the best he could come up with. Dean never was a man of many words and he sucked at expressing his feelings so it was near impossible for him to think of anything better than this, but now he realised it would have been much better if he would have just knocked on her door.

“Sure.” Y/N nodded.

“How does tomorrow sound? Ava will be back with my brother by then. As you can see I kind of have my hands full right now.” He smiled. Y/N pondered over the sudden change in her hot neighbour’s behaviour. If this was the way Dean chose to open up to her, then so be it.

“Tomorrow sounds good,” she smiled back.

“G-great then!” Heat crept up his neck as he looked at Ava, a bit flustered. He didn't know what her deal was but she always rendered him speechless or stumbled on his own words, trying to form a good comeback. Y/N had an effect on him that neither Jo nor Lisa had ever had on him. Her perky attitude made him want to spend any time he got with her. They were poles apart but Dean found a sense of familiarity in her.

“I won't hold back you two any longer.” Crouching in front of the girl and ruffling her brown hair, Y/N said, “Don't settle with anything less than a triple scoop.”

“Don't give her any ideas,” Dean teasingly warned, “I have no idea how to deal with a kid on a sugar rush.”

“Then don't shy away from asking for a little help. I had to babysit my cousin's kids many times. I know a thing or two about babysitting,” Y/N said.

“I'll definitely take you up on that if things get out of hand.” He said, “See you tomorrow night. Have a good day, Ms. L/N.” He grabbed Ava’s hands tightly, pulling her close as he started to walk towards the elevator. Y/N shook her head, an amused laugh leaving her lips. Some things never change.

“I think the cupcakes worked their magic!” Dean teased, sharing a laugh with Y/N over a glass of Manhattan. This was the first time she had ever seen him laugh. Apparently, he was a happy drunk.

“Some roots of jasmine, rose thorns, a pinch of pearl dust and voila! You have the friendship potion,” She barely made it through with a straight face before bursting out in fits of laughter.

“I had a feeling that there was some kind of sorcery involved.” He said, signalling for another glass for both of them.

“This one’s on me,” Y/N said, making Dean scrunch up his face in an adorable pout.

“No it's not. I'm payin’, I was the one who asked you out.” His eyes immediately widened when he realised what slipped out through his mouth. “Not like an ‘asking out’ asking out. This is-” Dean waved at the space between them “-just a gesture of goodwill.”

“You're adorable.” Y/N giggled.

“What?”

“I know this isn't a date. Just two friends hanging out on a Sunday night.” She shook her head, chuckling as the man picked up his refilled glass and took a sip.

Even if Y/N said it was platonic, the ungodly amount of time she had spent in front of her closet to pick out a perfect outfit would definitely make her rethink her answer. She had skimmed through her closet, trying to find the dress that said ‘just friends’ but to her all the dresses she owned screamed ‘I want you to fuck me’.

Nevertheless, she had settled on a simple pair of blue jeans and a crop top. But she had felt seriously underdressed when she knocked on Dean's door and it had opened to reveal the man in a jeans t-shirt and black slacks, staring at her with a smile on his face.

“Well duh! My first impression of you kinda sucked.” Y/N said.

“I did warm up to ya, didn't I?” Dean chuckled. “Another round?”

“Nuh-uh. Sparkling water for me. I don't want to show up at work tomorrow puking my guts out. And that while nursing a painful hangover? No thanks” She laughed.

“You're no fun!” He chuckled with her.

“I am no fun? What about you, Mr. Turn-down-the-volume?” She said as the bartender pushed a glass of water towards her and poured out another to the man.

“You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?” He shook his head.

“Never.”

A moment of silence passed as Y/N looked across the nightclub buzzing with people just like any other Sunday night. She never thought Dean would be the person to even know about nightclubs around the city but guess she didn't know him that well.

“You wanna head back home? I can walk with you to your place, be all gentlemanly,” he smirked. She liked this drunk version of Dean. He was happier, far more cheesy and funnier than his workaholic version.

“Of course. It's not like we live in the same apartment,” she teased. “Hey, you wanna hit the dance floor before we go back?”

His eyes widened at her sudden question. “No, I don't dance.” He shook his head furiously, clearly stating that dancing was definitely not on his agenda.

“Oh come on, don't be shy.” She said.

“Nope.”

“Fine! You are no fun!” She rolled her eyes, “Let's get outta here then.”

The walk back to their apartment was filled with drunken giggles and cheesy banter. “I had a fun time tonight. Apologies accepted.” Y/N said, unlocking the door to her home.

“Glad to know that. I couldn't have lived knowing you hate me,” Dean teased, “I had a good time as well. I really needed a break from work.”

“So you do accept that you work too much?”

“Agree to disagree.” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway, “Night, Y/N.”

She walked up to the man and pecked his cheek, making his eyes go wide at the sudden affection. He swallowed hard as she stared up at him with hooded eyes. Patting his arms lightly, she said, “Night, Dean, see you in the morning.”

“Only if you're running late.”

Chapter 5

Feedback is highly appreciated!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

[februaryflowers]

the moon in your eyes

7 (swings/swing set) + 17 (basorexia - overwhelming desire to kiss)

prompt list | lil roommate au + lil friends to lovers 

warnings: none i think

fluff, 1157 words, mingyu x reader (who’s shorter than mingyu)

You needed a roommate. Wonwoo’s friend needed an apartment. Moving in with a mutual friend seemed to be a better bet and solved Wonwoo’s friends’ problems. Plus it was more convenient for him to visit you both at the same time anyway. It was a win-win-win.

You were still a bit hesitant to have someone you’d met probably twice live with you, but Wonwoo assured you that Mingyu was friendly and tidy. 

Sensing your uneasiness, Mingyu dialed back. He’d offer you something to eat or to clean or go to the grocery store. But you soon learned that the tall man was also one of the sappiest people you knew who wouldn’t hurt you without trying excessively hard. 

And so began your own friendship with Mingyu.

When you couldn’t sleep you liked to walk to the park across the street. You’d sit on the swinging bench and kick your feet a couple times, letting the rocking take over your mind before walking back and settling into bed. 

On one of these excursions, Mingyu had caught you sneaking back home.

“Couldn’t sleep” you’d answered when he asked if everything was alright. “The park is nice. I’m careful. It’s okay.”

He let out a small “oh” before insisting that he come with you next time. Even if he was asleep, you were to wake him up and drag him out with you. Seeing that you were too tired, you agreed and collapsed into bed. 

And the next time you prepared to go out, Mingyu spotted you before declaring that he’d be coming too. 

He trailed behind you at a comfortable distance until you’d reached the park. He pushed the two of you into the air in silence, but a warm one that shielded you from the night.

You didn’t really expect that from such a new friend.

“Thanks for coming,” you murmured. “It’s kinda nice.”

Mingyu glanced down at you. The moon looked pretty in your eyes. For the first time since you’d met him, he was speechless.

Your occasional outings spilled into weekly events just because. You’d go out just to talk. It was a nice way to catch up on the events of the week, even if you already knew and talked enough during it. The two of you started hanging out regularly and joining Wonwoo together. Your friendship with Mingyu maybe even rivaled that with Wonwoo.

Mingyu didn’t know how long he’d been coming with you by now. It seemed like forever ago when Wonwoo proposed that he move in with his friend, when he met you and realized how nice it was to get to know you.

It was a Friday night. The moon was a silver crescent just as it had been the first time he came with you. Mingyu shuffled alongside you, his hand shadowing over yours. It was so close. He could reach down, grasp yours, intertwine your fingers, gently squeeze your hand in his.

You glanced back at him and offered a smile. He pushed one onto his face. It was the same moon but somehow, every single time, it looked even prettier in your eyes. Last week he thought that was the prettiest he’d ever seen the moon. And the week before that, and the one before that. He still always got surprised.

You sat on the bench swing, letting your legs hang off while you finished your conversation about your work friends with a sarcastic joke. He let out a laugh that sent your heart racing as he gently pushed the bench and let you soar. 

Mingyu always let you fly high. He was the one to push you on the swings first before joining himself. He was the one to gently let you know where and how he thought you can improve something, to encourage you.

He loved the way your eyes lit up as you went further and further into the air. He loved the way you looked at him when he jumped and crashed into the spot next to you. He loved the way you laughed at him doing so before chiding him about being careful. 

Alongside his appreciation bloomed a thought that maybe, one day, he’d make your eyes light up like that. It started small, like when you first start pumping your legs on the swing set. Now it was securely in the air, hopes as bright as the moon in your eyes.

When he looked at you that night, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. Was tonight the night? An untroubled smile found itself on your lips, which, and he hoped he wasn’t imagining things, seemed to grow brighter when you looked at him. 

“When you were a kid, did you ever jump off midair?” he asked. 

You cocked your head to the side. “What?”

“You didn’t? My friends and I did it all the time. That’s, like, the best part of swings!”

“That’s way too scary,” you protested.

“No it’s not. See--”

“Hey--”

Mingyu had hopped off and landed on his feet and knees before smiling up at you. “See?”

“Well that’s not fair. You have less to fall.”

“And you have more to enjoy,” he countered.

You smiled but rolled your eyes. “No thanks, Gyu.”

With the swing at a decently lower height now, you prepared a small jump until Mingyu stepped in front.

“Hey! I was gonna do it now,” you pouted.

He let his gaze flicker to your lips before he let out an exhale between a scoff and a laugh. 

“Hmph.” You crossed your arms and turned your head.

“You’re an adorable liar,” he murmured, letting out the little thought in his mind. 

You turned back to him, letting your lips fall. You looked up at him standing in front of you.

With your shining eyes, the moon reflecting back at him, your parted lips, Mingyu sighed. He took a step forward, almost even letting hope control his actions rather than thought, and sliding his hand under your jaw, placed his minty toothpaste flavored lips against yours.

Right before you fully closed your eyes, letting the world go warm and dark, you fluttered them open again. Your arms had found their place on Mingyu’s shoulders but you now let them fall.

He tilted his head at you, worry lacing his eyes until you patted the space next to you. In silence the two of you pushed your legs off the ground until you were securely swinging.

You turned to face him, biting your lip but still unable to stop the corners of your lips from turning up. 

“Come closer,” you whispered.

He obliged and you put your arms on his shoulders once again and gently turned his face towards yours. And with that you dramatically pecked his lips before pushing yourself into his side and looking out at the rest of the park with him. 

“This is the best Friday night we’ve had, I think.”

a/n: i think reader and mingyu would regularly smooch there after :P

[aworldforastage]

2024 Reading Log [updating]

In order of completion:

1. 遇蛇 溯痕 -- Encountering a snake [#遇蛇]

2. 两个老妖怪 争教销魂

3. 刀斩山河 不落不落 [#刀斩山河]

4. 天意风流 月神的野鬼 [#天意风流]

5. 论和太子谈恋爱的风险和收益 k君

6. 重生之焚爱逆欢 无心轮回

7. 李代桃僵  北境有冻离

8. 这样我是不是更像他了  后妈桑

9. 不想了 花卷

10. 一个声名狼藉的beta QJF

11. 禁宫 末回

12. 错认白月光的帝王重生了 喃受

13. 爱有多重 三更雨

14. 喜欢你的这么些年  拉面要加香菜

15. 穿进万人迷文的我人设崩了 by 东施娘

16. 重生之嫁给情敌 鱼恨水

DNF

不要点进来[电竞] 对四

平南王府凭男记 初吻江湖

Running list of books which I have read significant amount but stopped for various reasons, but I think I might like to go back and finish some day

双玉记 溯痕 (WIP) [#双玉记]

剑名不奈何 淮上 -- The Sword Named No Way Out

电竞魔王集结营 青梅酱 -- The E-Sports Circle’s Toxic Assembly Camp

长安少年游 明月倾

德萨罗人鱼 深海先生 -- Desharow Merman [#德萨罗人鱼]

余污 肉包不吃肉 – Remnants of Filth

忧郁先生想过平静生活 青色羽翼 -- Mr. Melancholy Wants to Live a Peaceful Life [#yyxs]

魔尊也想知道 青色羽翼 -- Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know

不要在垃圾桶里捡男朋友 骑鲸南去 -- Don’t Pick Up Boyfriends From the Trash Bin

燎原 不问三九 -- Wildfire

沉舟 楚寒衣青

楚天以南 大风不是木偶 -- Under Clear Skies

乱世为王 顾雪柔/非天夜翔 -- To Rule in a Turbulent World

人鱼陷落 麟潜 -- The Fallen Merman

Likely DNFs

不要点进来[电竞] 对四

平南王府凭男记 初吻江湖

谁把谁当真 水千丞 -- Winner Takes All

凤于九天 风弄 -- Feng Yu Jiu Tian

营养过良 芥菜糊糊 -- The Nutrition is Too Good

情敌每天都在变美 公子于歌 -- Your Rival in Love Gets Prettier Every Day

Tags for works I haven't started reading:

六爻 Priest -- Liu Yao: The Revitalization of Fuyao Sect [#liu yao]

台风眼 潭石-- The Eye of the Storm [#tfy]

判官 木苏里 -- Panguan [#panguan]

[kbandtrash]

SKZ Mafia Bullet Point

~Rachel~

@call-me-horangi thanks for the request!

Masterlist

I. I didn't have to do it like this. What did I create. Anyway next up Megan wanted to do one too so that's the next update

Word Count: 1.6k

I have chosen Chan because I’m baaaasiiiiiiic

But anyway you were both born into the life of organized crime

Your families were friendly with each other so like you were supposed to be bestest friends and fated lovers right??

No.

You haaaaaated each other as kids

He had this reputation of good rule following child but actually? Was just really good at never getting caught

You didn’t like the rules and you were loud about it but did you follow them? Yeah

Did you always get in trouble anyway? Yeah

Did Chan always manage to get you in trouble for things he did? Also yeah

You would try to get people to see that he was a little turd and sometimes they would listen but usually they would be like

Little baby sweetheart Chan???? Noooooo never

After a while you decided that if Chan wanted to be an exception to the rules then he could be an exception to the rules

So you would antagonize him constantly

The amount of times you locked him outside when he shouldn’t have been there in the first place

Or the time you stained his shirt with grape juice right before he was supposed to take pictures

So yeah as kids you were at each other’s necks constantly it was really back and forth

Neither of you was really better than the other

It got better when you were both sent to separate private schools for middle school and you didn’t see each other so much

But if you did have to see each other it was on sight

You never punched him and his stupid little smirk but man oh man did you get close

In high school your parents managed to finesse both of you into the same school

Not only that but the school put you both in the same class

And it would have been a disaster except!

His school friends were amazing!

In fact the reason you remember your relationship turning around was because they would tease him whenever the two of you started fighting

One day in particular you remembered he was trying to rile you up by getting right up in your face

And one of his boys shouted “KISS”

Even still today, many years later, you wish someone had taken a picture of his face

You didn’t know eyes could become so big and round

Never before or since had you seen ears so bright red

For many months later he was barely able to look you in the eyes

And when he was forced to talk to you he was much more polite

At some point in your last year of school, one of your friends started dating one of his friends

And the friend groups started to mesh together

So you were spending even more time together than normal

Suddenly he was much easier to be around

Maybe because you ignored each other for the most part

Wow I’m spending way more time on this backstory than I should

Anyway

You managed to graduate on a decent note

You don’t remember the pictures being taken, but there’s one graduation photo with both of your friend groups not only with both of you in it

That used to be a struggle when you were younger

But you were both standing next to each other

And not only that!

But there’s another photo of just the two of you

Something that would have been entirely impossible in your younger years

But you had your arm around his shoulder!

He had his hand on your waist!

One might think, looking at the picture, that you were friends at that point

Maybe you were, but you didn’t remember it that way

This is entirely stream of thought guys I’m just writing everything that comes to mind

You weren’t willingly associating yourself with him at least until after college

You were on one side of the country, he was on the other

You saw each other maybe a handful of times over the course of four years

And they say absence makes the heart grow fonder

Very clearly you still remember the first time you saw him after you graduated

You were at the main headquarters for the front for your family business, almost done with training for the work you would be doing for then

And then in walks the handsomest boy you’d ever seen in your life

It took you a second to recognize him

Not because he had changed much physically

Sure, he was dressed quite a bit nicer than you remembered

And his hair was styled differently than he used to like

But his entire countenance was different

The way he carried himself radiated confidence and maturity

He was confident before but now? He had earned his confidence

And his smile

Jisung was easy to recognize walking in with him

They were talking about something as they walked in those doors

And suddenly both started laughing

Had his smile always been that captivating?

Hadn’t you hated it before?

No, this couldn’t be more different than his stupid arrogant smirk

It would have been very embarrassing if you had kept staring at them as they approached you

Luckily the employee that was training you managed to get you back on task before they noticed you

So when Jisung noticed you and called your name, you were at least somewhat prepared and kept your pride

Except then you turned and saw Chan smiling again

At you

And your brain short circuited a little bit

Because he was even prettier smiling like that

At you

What

It was not long after that that you ended up hanging out together just the two of you

On purpose

Also what

Since when would you have ever willingly spent time one on one with Chan?

Never

But there you were hanging out like you were old friends rather than fated rivals

Wham Bam you were dating so fast

It was almost a little shameful how willing you were to throw away a 20+ year feud

But! He had thrown it away too so

The only pride you had to lose was your families teasing you

Every other second at any gathering

“I told you they would end up together”

“I still remember you as ten-year-olds screaming at each other”

Like thanks? How are you supposed to respond to that

“Aren’t you glad you grew out of that?”

Um yeah I’m glad Chan and I both grew up I guess

“Oh finally”

Oh well

It was not long before you earned the reputation of Bonnie and Clyde within your circle

Sticky situations followed you left and right

But through The Power of Love

And perhaps much experience in self-defense classes and firearm training

But mostly through The Power of Love

You managed to get yourselves out of these situations pretty flawlessly every time

And! Thanks to your extensive experience tormenting each other as children

The two of you are excellent at getting information out of people

It usually goes a little something like

“I will tell you what you want to know if you will pLEASE just SHUT UP”

Anyway

Usually since you were technically considered higher-ups due to your parents’ status you wouldn’t really get involved so much in the dirty stuff

But you both got a little more caught up in the diplomatic stuff

Which for some reason when it involves you two

It tends to get kind of messy

Why do they even let you guys do this kind of stuff anymore?

Compromise only recently got added to both of your playbooks

More often than not you always end up sitting together in someone’s kitchen patching each other up

Thankfully you’ve never had any terribly close calls

But that leads me to my next point

Boy proposed in the middle of a shootout

Not because it was now or never or anything like that

Just because he felt like it was the dramatic background he needed

He would have been nervous otherwise but like in the middle of a shootout?

He was a lot more worried about getting shot

Or more like you getting shot I guess

Anyway he was a lot more worried about that than about you saying no

Kinda stupid looking back actually

What if he had distracted you and then you got shot and died

But that didn’t happen so!

Anyone that responded with a patronizing comment about your childhoods was uninvited to the wedding

Except not really because this is not the business to be making enemies for petty reasons

But they definitely earned a spot in whatever secret hit list y’all keep together for little things

Venting conversations usually go a little something like

“Please tell me why my aunt is trying to invite herself on our honeymoon”

“Should I ring up Jeongin?”

“If you don’t want my aunt sleeping on our couch then yeah probably”

“Ew nope yeah Jeongin air shot between the toes I’m texting him now”

“Chan wait--”

How on earth do I wrap this up this is a first for me

This was not extremely mafia heavy BUT

Anyway the wedding has not happened yet but when it does

There will most certainly be a secret afterparty for people who deserve it

And another secret afterparty for your friends

Most days actually that’s like the only thing keeping you going

Weddings are stressful but wow add in the organized crime aspect?

So much more to think about

You and Chan are both pretty stressed these days

But at least at the end of the day you’ve got each other to lean on :)

~fin~