Not Allowed (pt. 2)
TV GIRL / NOT ALLOWED
Link to part 1 here
âą Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader
âą Summary: You and Felix are childhood friends turned fwb, with no strings attached. Felix leaves to pursue his idol dreams, and you begin your life as a college student. When he comes back to visit your town, heâs drawn to you again- but youâre both leading very different lives.
âą Warning: smut lol
âą W/c: 20k? idk
âą A/n: inspired by the TV Girl song ânot allowedâ <3 this has a lot of smut bc the whole song is abt sex so if ur uncomfortable with that, please donât interact!Â
// MINORS DNI // DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK
Disclaimer: All characters in this story are 18+. the actions and story represented in this work do not represent Stray Kids in any way; everything described is purely a work of fiction!
You felt your heart drop in your chest. The conversation was not going to be free of hostility. Unsure of how to answer, you locked eyes with him, letting your expression soften into one of remorse.Â
âI like it. The blonde.â
He gave a small nod. âThank you.â
You looked around nervously, debating whether you should just get up and leave. He wasnât going to give up without a confrontation or an apology, both of which were off the table for you.Â
âIâm gonna go order,â he said, smoothing down his top as he stood up. âAmericano?â
You nodded, studying the pattern of the table below you. âYeah, thanks.â
As he walked down the stairs to the counter, you replayed your thoughts in your head. This was going to be a colossal waste of time if you didnât drop the cool girl act and just communicate with him like a normal human being. Not even your arguments with Mark were like this, so why were you so averse to doing the right thing? After all, itâs not like you were going to stay at your parentsâ place for longer than a week. All of this would be out of sight and out of mind in due time, and you were determined to make it end on a positive note.Â
When Felix returned, he held two iced americanos in either hand, clutching a small paper bag of croissants in the crook of his elbow.Â
âThank you,â you said as he carefully set yours in front of you. The rich, warm scent of both calmed your nerves a little as you took a sip of your coffee and nibbled a bite of the pastry.
Felix sat back in his chair and rested a slender hand on his cheek as he looked at you.Â
âWhat?â you asked, worried youâd gotten something on your face.Â
He shook his head. âJust looking.â
âYouâre staring,â you replied, a bashful smile growing on your face for the first time all morning.Â
âI canât stare?â He inquired.Â
âI guess you can if you want to. Itâs just a little odd, is all.â
He cocked his head slightly. âIâm catching up on five years of changes. I promise Iâm almost done.â
âOkay, okay. I digress.â you said, taking another sip of coffee and staring back at him.Â
Felixâs hair was much longer than it was all those years ago, reaching just below the nape of his neck. His face was also much slimmer, and he looked rather intimidating with his carved-out jawline and hollowed cheeks. But his eyes were still soft, his button nose still a focal point of his beauty, and his lips even plumper and more pink than youâd remembered.Â
âYou look good,â Felix said in a voice barely above a whisper.Â
You felt the heat rushing to your cheeks, suddenly more aware of your own appearance, and smiled politely in response.Â
âThanks. You look good, too.â
Felix took a sip of his coffee, and then his face turned serious again.Â
âYou⊠never called.â
You furrowed your brows at him, surprised at how quickly the conversation had changed pace.Â
âI tried you a couple times. Never heard back.â
You did your best to remain calm, feeling angry at the audacity he had to accuse you of being the one to cut him off. Heâd been the one with a time change, phone restrictions, and a whole new life to adjust to. As far as you were concerned, heâd transformed into a completely different person- whether he wanted you to remain in his life was up to him entirely.Â
âYou did? When?â
You shook your head with a dismissive smile.Â
âWhen? I donât know- some time and date five years ago?â
âYou didnât try again after that?â
At this point, you could feel yourself getting pissed off.Â
âWhy would I? Iâm not even one to double text- what makes you think I shouldâve tried for five years straight? I have a life too, you know.â
He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down the longer bits and tucking them behind his ears once again.Â
âI guess⊠I just thought we ended on a different note than we actually did.â
You cocked your head. âAnd what note was that?â
He exhaled sharply through his nose. âI donât know, every day for a whole summer itâs like you canât get enough of me and now you want to pretend I donât exist?â
You scoffed at the absurdity of his words, although he had a point.Â
âSo I was supposed to keep trying your cell for five years straight because of some fleeting thing that happened half a decade ago? And where were you in all of this? You had a phone, too.â
âI told you itâd be some time after my trainee period. When I didnât hear from you, I figured you just didnât care to talk.â
You rolled your eyes, scoffing again. âJesus Christ. Was I supposed to be sending an owl every week? Sorry I didnât get the memo.â
âI didnât know you needed a memo to remember who I was.â
âI know who you are!â
âThen why are you acting like it never happened?â
You sat back in your chair, angry thoughts racing around your mind.Â
âBecause!â You exclaimed, trying to compose yourself as you finally let your thoughts out.Â
âBecause what we had wasnât supposed to ruin our friendship! You left to be some mega-rich celebrity and I had to work my ass off to make a life for myself, only to never hear from you again. And now youâre back and I donât know what it is that you want from me, but if itâs the same thing you wanted all those years ago then you can forget this little meeting ever happened. Iâm not some side piece you have when youâre not filming commercials or singing on stage. Believe it or not, I have a life outside of whatever the hell this is.â
He shook his head in disbelief, and a silence washed over both of you. You glanced around the floor, hoping nobody heard any of that. The other diners seemed to be wrapped up in their own conversations, and you felt a minuscule sense of relief.Â
âI canât believe you think thatâs why I came back. Even back then.â
You stayed quiet, feeling defensive and irate.Â
âWe never shouldâve done it in the first place,â you said, lowering your head.Â
He swallowed a lump in his throat.Â
âYou really feel like that?â Felix asked.Â
You gave a small nod, holding back frustrated tears.Â
âYeah, I do. I wouldnât have to spend my adult life running from such a stupid mistake.â
Felixâs lips pulled into that same thin-lipped expression of hurt, and he raised his eyebrows.
âOkay. If thatâs how you feel.â
Without another word, he pushed out his chair behind him, and gathered the mostly-full drink and crumbs of his unfinished croissant.Â
You remained seated at the table as he gave you a small bow and made his way to the stairs. And then he was out of sight, for the fourth time that week.Â
*
You probably cried for hours that night. It was getting old fast, this torturous act of hurting Felix and then feeling guilty for hours on end. But you couldnât help the way you felt about the whole situation.Â
Youâd seen the interviews, watched the way he filmed alongside beautiful Korean women and traveled the world to perform in front of thousands of pretty girls. He had the world at his fingertips, and yet he used the brief moment of time you slept with him as a weapon against you- as if he hadn't moved on several times before all this. Moved on to a new place, a new life- probably even several other women.
When youâd finally begun to doze off to sleep, after hours of battling a pounding headache, a startling noise woke you up again.Â
Three brisk knocks on your window- just like theyâd always occurred.
Your heartbeat quickened, and you looked at the clock while still adjusting to the atmosphere around you. It was just past midnight. You crawled out of the comfort of your bed, fixing your hair briefly and pulling up the blinds to get a good look.Â
Felix stood against the dark night sky, casually dressed in a light gray hoodie and track pants. His hands were shoved in his pockets, head hung in deep remorse.Â
When you opened the window and looked at him, his glossy eyes suggested heâd been crying too.Â
âHi,â Felix said quietly. âCan I come in?â
You complied, stepping aside as he hoisted a leg over the sill and climbed into the small space of your room. It felt like old times, only this time it was tainted by tension and your caution so as to not overstep boundaries.Â
You sat on the edge of your bed, and Felix found a seat on the desk chair across from you.Â
âIâm sorry,â he said quietly. âI was angry. And I let my emotions get the best of me.â
You chewed on the inside of your lip, an anxious habit that made itself known whenever you had to tear your own walls down.Â
âI reached out because I cared about you,â he continued. âFive years ago. And I still do. I had zero intention of sleeping with you. It just happened. And itâs not going to happen again. I never wouldâve just used you for sex. Part of me wants to think that you know that, too.â
You began to cry even again, wiping tears with the back of your hand. You knew he was right, and you didnât actually believe that. His intentions had just gotten blurry with him being so far away.Â
âHeyâŠâ he said, finding his way next to you and wrapping you in a warm hug. âIâm really sorry I hurt you. I was just being selfish.â
You gasped through tears at his words. âI could never forget you,â you blurted out, almost pleading for him to unlearn whatever youâd made him think before. âAnd I donât think you used me for sex. Itâs just⊠overwhelming having you back. I donât think you realize how fucking hard it was for me when you left.â
Felix wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. âYou donât think it was hard for me, either? I wanted to tell you so much. I wanted to call you up every chance that I got, but I couldnât. And then when I didnât hear from you I thought⊠I thought maybe I just cared more than you did.â
You shook your head. âI cared, too. Donât ever think I didnât care.â
Felix nodded, a kind of light in his eyes at your admittance.
âCan I stay for a bit?â Felix asked, hoping he wasnât overstepping his boundaries by inquiring. âNothing weird, Iâll even stay on the floor. I just want to catch up. As friends.â
It was your turn to nod, sitting back against the headboard and pulling your blanket up to your waist. He sat cross legged facing you, both of your gazes meeting each other with curious smiles. And for a small moment in time, you were those careless kids all over again.Â
*
You donât remember Felix leaving, but he did. You also werenât sure when youâd fallen asleep. Beams of sunlight shining over your eyelids woke you up, and your room was quiet and vacant except for a small note on the desk.Â
Y/n,
Had to leave for a family thing. See you later tonight?
PS- you still snoreÂ
-Felix
You chuckled lightly at the note, remembering the way heâd teased you about that back then.Â
Youâd thought it to be a dream for a second, gripping the note firmly in your hands to remind you it was in fact, real. Felix had been here last night, and you finally didnât want to cry at the thought of seeing him again. In fact, it excited you.
At breakfast, you thought over the conversations you had last night. Felix told you about his trainee days, long ones spent studying Korean and practicing dances in small, crowded rooms. He recounted the shows he was on, expressing the premature grief heâd felt at almost getting completely eliminated. He told you about the members, eyes filling with joy as he described them in great detail and summarized their seven starkly different personalities.Â
He told you about how much heâd missed his sisters, how long plane rides finally didnât make him nauseous anymore, and how he felt much more natural being blonde.
And about how he thought of you every time he stopped at a McDonaldâs. He also still used his raspberry chapstick, on his third tube now. And he missed you.Â
âI never forgot about you. Not once,â he said honestly. âI stopped getting Oreo mcflurries because they tasted so much like you. It was a flavor I wanted to preserve in that little time and space. I feared Iâd⊠lose it.â
You bit back a smile from across the bed. He always had a way with his words, but hearing the details of your relationship with him so eloquently relayed back to you made your head spin.Â
âWeâll Iâm sorry for ruining your favorite McDonaldâs order,â youâd said back to him in a joking tone. You didnât want to give him the wrong idea by entertaining the narrative too much. You kept it platonic.
After all, you still had Mark waiting for you back at home. As your mind snapped back to Mark, your eyes shifted around the room in a panic. Itâd been days since you heard from him, and he never answered your last text. In a sudden panic, you reached for your phone and began to dial him, before hanging up and thinking it over. You desperately needed a new set of clothes, and it wouldnât hurt to check on the apartment.Â
So after a quick shower and some breakfast, you grabbed your keys and started off toward the apartment again. Not quite ready to return to the place of tedious routine.Â
*
As you unlocked the door, an overpowering scent filled the room, making you scrunch your nose in displeasure.Â
âMark?â you called out, scanning the room for him.Â
The kitchen was a mess, dishes piled high in the sink with remnants of previous meals all over them. The table was sprawled with unopened mail and- beer bottles. You knew instantly.Â
âMark?â you called again, growing angry at the state of the apartment.Â
As you made your way into the living room, you finally saw him. Sprawled on the couch, a beer bottle clutched in his hand as a loud game of baseball echoed from the tv.Â
âMark? Why is the place so messy?â
He said nothing in response, fixated on the screen in front of him, bringing the bottle to his lips to take another swig of beer.Â
âMark?â you said again.Â
âJesus- stop saying my name like that, I have a headache.â
Your heart dropped at his tone.Â
âYeah, because itâs not even noon yet and youâre already piss drunk. Whatâs going on?â
He waved a hand to dismiss the conversation.Â
âNo, none of that,â you said. âTell me whatâs going on with you.â
He kept his eyes glued to the game, the commentatorâs words drowning out his slurred reply.Â
âI dunno. Have the place to myself considering my girlfriend left me. Just wanted a beer.â
âLeft you?â you said in sheer disbelief. âIâm staying with my parents for a weekend and you think I left you?â
He shrugged. âYou left me a while ago. You never want to sleep together anymore. Weâre hardly even in the same bed, and when we are, you donât tell me anything. You donât visit me at work anymore. We havenât gone on a proper date in forever. Youâre always⊠gone. Even when youâre here, itâs like youâre not really here.â
It was the first time he sounded sober so far. Your heartbeat quickened with anxiety, as you werenât prepared to be put on the spot like this.
You took a seat beside him timidly, folding your hands in your lap.Â
âIs that what this is about?â
 âThatâs what this has always been about!â he shouted, and you jumped in your seat. âJust say you donât want this! Any of this,â he said, gesturing to the environment around you.Â
You shook your head. âIâm just stressed. I still want this, I want you.âÂ
âThen why donât you fucking act like it?â he questioned. You felt your eyes welling up with tears.Â
âWhen have I not acted like it?â
âWhen you decided your work was more important than us.â
âI have never once put more value into my job than our relationship. You know that. Just because we havenât had sex or cuddled in a little while doesnât mean Iâm not still here.â
Mark threw his arms up and let out an exasperated sigh, beginning to cry.Â
âI lost my fucking job,â he said suddenly, hot tears streaming down his faceÂ
âYou- What?â you said, mouth slightly parted in shock.Â
He buried his face in the palms of his hands, letting the beer bottle rest on his knee.Â
âThey let me go.â
âWhen?â you asked, turning your body to face him more.Â
âCouple weeks ago.â
âWeeks?â you repeated. âMark, why didnât you tell me?â
He slouched further back into the couch. âIâm a fucking loser.â
âYouâre not a loser,â you said. âYouâre going through a tough time.âÂ
You scooted closer to him, enveloping him in a hug and rubbing his knee soothingly.Â
âWhere have you been if not the lab?â You asked suddenly, remembering heâd been gone for hours each night consistently.Â
He rolled his eyes, pulling away from you. âDoes it matter?â
You squinted. âIâm just wondering.â
Mark shut his eyes, taking another swig of beer and ignoring your question. âI need a nap.â
You got up from the couch, gathering the garbage that surrounded him and making your way back to the kitchen.Â
âIâm gonna clean a little and grab my things. I just came here for a change of clothes.â
Soft snores emitted from the living room.Â
You spent the better part of your day cleaning the apartment and organizing Markâs stuff. You probably threw away dozens of takeout boxes and empty beer bottles, pinching your nose at the stench they left behind.Â
When things seemed habitable again, you grabbed a fresh set of clothes and left the apartment, careful not to wake a sleeping Mark on the sofa.Â
*
âYou donât know how long I could stare into your picture, and wish that it was meâ
After stopping by your favorite ramen place for dinner and running a few errands, you returned to your parentsâ amidst the rush of traffic, looking up at the vast navy sky. It was already nearing nighttime, and you knew Felix was visiting tonight. Youâd be lying if you said it wasnât the only part of your day you were looking forward to.Â
You showered again, washing the smell of beer and old takeout off your skin. And you dressed up in a cuter set of pajamas this time, matching your tank top to your shorts and completing it with a silky French braid.Â
You were glad you had remembered to grab a few books from your nightstand at the apartment, settling down under your dimly-lit lamp to continue one you had already started.Â
And just past midnight, three knocks came from your window.Â
Felix climbed in with ease, setting a bag down on your desk and slipping off his sneakers. He looked fancier than youâd ever seen him before, light wash jeans accompanying a fitted black shirt and a leather jacket. You bit back a smile at the sight, wishing heâd owned it back when you were allowed to rip it off him.Â
âHey,â he said with a smile, sounding out of breath.Â
âHi,â you replied gently. âWhatâs with the fancy outfit?â
He chuckled. âWe went to this dinner thing. I dunno, I think I just overdress wherever I go these days.â
You smiled up at him. âIt looks good. Maybe overdressing is a good thing.â
âYeah?â he said. âMaybe.â
You took your seat on the bed, resting against the headboard and crossing your legs.Â
âHow was your day?â he asked. It reminded you of when heâd catch up on your day between hungry kisses before you got intimate. Part of you wished it was still that way.Â
You shrugged. âNot the best.â
âWhy?â he said, furrowing his brows and sitting across from you, also cross-legged.Â
 âJust⊠a lot. Back home.â
He cocked his head. âBack home? Wait so you donât⊠you donât live here anymore?â
You audibly laughed. âYou thought I stayed in this dingy part of town? In this empty room? Of course not!â
âWhere do you live then?â
âIâm on the south side, a little drive out from here. I just came to say hi to my parents for a bit. And to get a break fromâŠâ your voice trailed off.Â
âFrom?â he said, urging you to finish.
âFrom⊠my boyfriend.â
Felix felt his heart sink.
He knew you agreed to remain friends. He knew he had an obligation to keep things platonic. He knew how you felt about what happened before. But he still held on to a sliver of hope that youâd be single by the time he came back to visit. Wishful thinking indeed.Â
âAh, boyfriend,â he said awkwardly. âThatâs cool.â
You nodded. Sensing the awkward tension in the air, you changed the subject.
âWhatâs in the bag?â
He glanced over at it, shrugging casually. âBaked you a few things. Thereâs some brownies, lemon tarts and salted caramel cookies. Though I think I needed more caramel on those.â
You grinned at him, shaking your head. âYouâre exactly the same. Still got a thing for baking. And spoiling people.â
He smiled back at you, a glint of sadness in his expression. âI never stopped.â
The night was spent catching up once again, you getting more glimpses into his life as an idol, and him learning all about your job and its attributes. Felix was careful not to bring up any topics that might lead back to your boyfriend, still feeling overwhelmed at the mention of one in the first place. Call it immature, but he was undeniably jealous.Â
Yet every time the room fell silent, his mind wandered back to that minute detail. What did he look like? What did he do for work? How often did the two of you have sex? Were you in love?
Questions he wished he could pry and get an answer to, but ones he knew would push you away. So he kept silent, engaging in surface-level conversation that hardly satisfied his need to understand you.Â
At half past two, you let out a yawn, feeling your eyelids getting heavy.Â
âTired?â he asked, licking a cookie crumb off the tip of his thumb.Â
You nodded, stretching out your legs and pulling the blankets over you. You fluffed your pillow before resting a hand below your cheek and laying on it, staring up at Felix who still sat across from you.Â
He swallowed nervously, admiring the way your long lashes blinked up at him so innocently. He remembered that from years ago, a little move that always drove him crazy.Â
âYou want to stay?â you asked quietly.
He swallowed again, feeling his ears get hot.Â
âI⊠donât want to make it weird. Especially withâŠâ his voice trailed off. He couldnât bring himself to circle back to the boyfriend topic.
âItâs not weird. Weâre friends,â you explained. âYou can just take the other side and we wonât cuddle or anything.â
Felixâs heart raced at the suggestion. Though he would have preferred cuddling, even as friends, he couldnât bring himself to decline your offer. He wanted nothing more than to hear your snores as you drifted off to sleep beside him.Â
âOkay,â he finally replied, removing his jacket and running a hand through his hair.Â
âYou still have a change of clothes in the left drawer,â you said in a sleepy voice. âAnd your toothbrush is still in the bathroom.â
Felix successfully found the change of clothes, comfortably slipping into them and brushing his teeth with the familiar blue toothbrush you always kept for him.Â
When he returned, your lashes fluttered open, smiling up at the sight of him. âCute,â you said quietly.
He felt his heartbeat quicken. There it was again- that feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he had to remind himself to keep it platonic. Not to smother you with kisses, not to hold you while you slept. But to behave the way a friend did- one with a friend he was wildly attracted to, who also now happened to have a boyfriend.Â
âThanks,â Felix said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.Â
He slipped into the bed next to you, pulling the blankets up to his torso and staring up at the ceiling. It was a sight he wasnât used to, locking eyes with the white canvas above him. Normally heâd lay on his side, arms wrapped tightly around you, legs lazily hoisted over yours as he pressed little kisses to your face and whispered sweet nothings in your ear.Â
The feeling felt strange, unnatural, even. Like lying beside a stranger in a foreign place. Not to mention the new addition of clothes- normally, Felix would get himself cleaned up and change into a clean pair of boxers. Sometimes, he wore nothing at all. The white t-shirt and patterned shorts were among the new developments in your friendship with him.Â
âNeed to charge my phone,â he said suddenly, sitting up and reaching for his phone from beside him.Â
âWould you plug mine in, too?â you said, eyes still shut as sleep began to wash over you.Â
He reached for yours, balancing the two phones in one hand as he made his way across the room to a spare outlet. First he plugged in his own, the little chime confirming the outlet worked. And then yours- the glow of your lockscreen making him squint against the brightness. He glanced over his shoulder at your sleeping frame, small breaths emitting from your mouth as you dozed.Â
A growing curiosity led him to tap the screen as it dimmed again, examining the photo set as your background.Â
It was a man, presumably your boyfriend, dressed in a black jacket and a snug black beanie, smiling at the camera as one slender hand gripped a spoonful of ice cream. Â
Felix felt his stomach churn. He carefully observed all of his features- big brown eyes, dark slanted brows and a strong, masculine jawline. He was handsome- hell, he was hot.Â
Felix painfully imagined the scenario that preceded the photo. First date? Second date? Hundredth date? Did he kiss you before, or after the picture was taken? Had the same spoon been used to feed you ice cream? Did you already live together at the time? What was his reaction at the photo finding a place on your lockscreen?
Felix clenched his jaw. He hoped the guy appreciated you making the photo a permanent part of your routine. The same photo youâd look at when you woke up in the morning, the same photo youâd look at right before going to sleep at night. The photo youâd see before dialing your mom or dad. The photo youâd see if Felix were to call.Â
As he sat observing the photo, refreshing the dimming light for a third time, a small buzz caught his attention. There on your phone, a text banner covered the guyâs face. Felix scanned it briefly, knowing he really shouldnât be prying in your text messages like this.Â
Mark: Sorry about today
Felix raised an eyebrow. It mustâve been the guy on the lockscreen. A little heart emoji next to his name confirmed his suspicion. Another text came through as he finished reading.Â
Mark: I shouldâve told uÂ
He frowned. Told you what? What had happened before he came over tonight? Is that why you seemed upset?
Mark: Sorry for yelling. Thanks for fixing the placeÂ
Mark: Iâll explain when you get backÂ
Mark: I donât deserve youÂ
Felix scoffed silently. At least he knew that much.Â
Mark: I still love you
And then he froze. The four words made his heart stop briefly.
He knew youâd been seeing someone new. He knew you werenât single, and that you and him were not going to hook up. Let alone be in any form of an intimate relationship.Â
But he hadnât considered that the two of you were on âI love youâ terms. The thought of it made his throat dry. You were entirely in love with someone, and it wasnât him. It was never going to be him. For a fleeting second, Felix considered leaving. There was no reason to be here- in bed, asleep next to someone heâd felt so complicated about. Heâd just grab his things and disappear out the window, probably never coming to visit you again. The presence of Mark in your life would likely fill the microscopic hole that was the absence of Felixâs.Â
âFelix?â you said in a whisper. âAre you coming to bed?â
And he melted at the sound of your voice all over again. Giddy at the thought of being close to you again, of smelling your familiar scent and waking up next to you when Mark surely wouldnât.Â
âComing,â Felix replied. âJust letting my mom know Iâll be late tomorrow.â
And before he could think it over any further, he slipped back into bed beside you. Hands folded over his chest, staring up at the ceiling that now seemed much more inviting than the thought of leaving you to sleep alone. The picture of Mark was etched in his mind like a painful tattoo, and he winced when he remembered the texts you would wake up to.
But not before you slept beside him first, gracing his presence with your light snores and sweet scent. Something Mark wouldnât get for at least tonight- and for that reason alone, he was satisfied.Â
*
âI dreamt I was standing in your doorstep, licking sweat off of your forehead, with your finger in my mouth, and the sound when leather jackets hit the groundâ
Labored breaths escaped your parted lips as you slept, turning over in discomfort.Â
Youâd fallen asleep hours ago, Felix following shortly after. And quickly, he found his way into your dreams.Â
Maybe it was the absence of intimacy between you and Mark, or maybe it was that stupid leather jacket Felix had worn tonight. Either way, your mind was clouded with images of it, painting vivid pictures of it on the floor between you.Â
Felix towered over you, blonde hair falling into his face as he tilted your chin up to meet his, pressing wet kisses to your lips and neck. Your hands remained at your sides, waiting for him to take the lead.Â
An eager hand snaked up your frame, finding its way to your mouth, where he interrupted the kiss by sliding a slender finger into your lips. You sucked obediently, never letting your eyes lose sight of his.Â
When youâd soaked him in your spit, he guided you backward to the bed, desperately parting your legs and inserting two fingers into your aching sex. You gripped his forearms with pleasure, moaning against his lanky figure and begging for more.Â
He hummed at your noises, pressing the hardness in his boxers against your core. When you gasped in response, he stood up again, running a hand through his hair as you watched him pull the waistband down lower, lowerâŠÂ
Your own gasps woke you up, pausing at the realization of how much youâd sweated onto your sheets. Felix was sound asleep on the pillow next to you, his chest rising and falling gently with his snores.
You glanced at the time. It was just past 3. Felix had not even been asleep for a full hour, and yet here you were having lewd visions of him fingering you in the very spot you slept. You quietly slipped out from the covers, strolling to the bathroom and shutting the door behind you.Â
You didnât bother turning on the light, afraid you would wake Felix and cause him concern so late at night. Instead, you pushed aside the curtain in the bathroom window, allowing silver-blue moonlight to illuminate the room around you, observing your disheveled appearance in the mirror above the sink. Beads of sweat glued curly strands of hair to your forehead.Â
Still aware of the heat in your core, you pulled down your shorts, and then your panties, quietly gasping at the sight. They almost peeled away from your wetness, stringy white lines of desperation disappearing on to the soaked spot where your longing for him made itself known.Â
All it took was that stupid leather jacket, and here you were, almost cumming at the sight of him in dream.Â
You couldnât help yourself, letting one finger circle the pool that had accumulated between your thighs. The panting began gradually, as your mind wandered back to where youâd been so rudely interrupted in your dream.
You continued the fantasy of his boxers being pulled fully down, eyebrows arched in pleasure at the thought of his cock springing out, all hard and leaky and ready for you. In consciousness youâd probably tease him, a gentle hand caressing his length as youâd coo little compliments up at him, admiring the way he could barely contain himself.Â
Youâd bend yourself over the side of the bed, instructing him to use you, to fuck you hard, until he was satisfied. And he would, his length finding its way to your aching pussy, rubbing his wet head over your clit until you were begging to have him inside you.Â
You could feel yourself getting close as you fantasized when heâd slide into you, his erection stretching you out the way it did all those years ago. Youâd promise with pleading in your voice that youâd let him use you whenever he wanted, however he pleased, so that youâd get used to his familiar size and shape again.Â
And he would smile between hard thrusts, picking up the pace as his hand would find its way to the small of your back, rubbing a thumb along your skin soothingly before leaning over and pressing a wet kiss on your shoulders.
Your moans would fill the room, saying his name like a prayer youâd repeat again and again, the four walls around you teeming with echoes of wet skin and filthy words.Â
And that same gentle hand would caress your throat as he found his release, this time inside of you. Heâd shower you with praise the way he always did, his deep voice making your skin tingle as he pressed little kisses to your neck and ear. And youâd kiss away his tears, staying close to him until sleep called your name.
As your mind drifted back into reality, you brought a finger up, observing the way youâd made a mess of yourself right in front of the sink. You parted two fingers curiously, white cum glistening under the moonlight.Â
How pathetic. Youâd been the one to establish boundaries again. Youâd been the one who specified this was a platonic occurrence.Â
Yet here you were, masturbating to filthy thoughts of him while he slept in the room next door, knowing very well you had a boyfriend waiting for you back home.Â
After getting cleaned up, you found your way back to the bed, crawling in next to him like a guilty sinner. He turned to face you in his sleep with small breaths escaping his parted lips.Â
Felix looked like an angel at this time of night. But the thoughts he gave you were anything except saint-like.Â
*
Felix had to leave again in the morning, waking you up as he sat up in bed and stretched beside you.Â
âFelix?â you said, memories of last night flooding your head all over again. You hoped he didnât hear you in the bathroom.Â
âDidnât mean to wake you,â he replied, his raspy morning voice sending shivers down your spine. âHave to go get some stuff done today.â
You turned over so that you were facing him and stared up at him through groggy eyes.Â
He tucked his hair behind his ears, looking down at you and giving you a small smile. The sunlight kissed his blonde hair, setting it aglow and making it appear almost white. His eyes were puffy with exhaustion, but his smile exuded that of a restful night.Â
âDid you sleep well?â he asked.Â
You thought back to a few hours ago.Â
âYeah. Better than I have in a while. You?â
He rubbed an eye, nodding. âI feel less tense.â
âGood,â you said. Maybe his dream self relieving some tension had carried over into his consciousness.Â
âDo you want to do something tonight?â Felix asked suddenly. âI mean, like, go somewhere? I feel bad that weâve only been catching up at ungodly hours of the night and then I have to leave.â
You reached a hand out, playing with a loose hem on his shirt. âYeah. That sounds nice.â
He smiled again. âCool. Iâll pick you up at around 6? Weâll go somewhere fancy.â
You nodded, shutting your eyes again.Â
Without another word, he was out of the bed, pulling on his clothes from yesterday and neatly folding the pajamas before storing them back in the dresser.Â
âDonât forget your jacket,â you said, giving him an amused smile as he pulled it off your desk chair and draped it over one arm.Â
âOh yeah, thanks,â Felix replied.Â
And with a small wave he disappeared out the window again, leaving you to the vacant room with thoughts running rampant.Â
*
âI guess itâs different âcause you love him, but Iâve got an interactive sick and twisted imaginationâ
It was no use. Felix couldnât behave like a normal functioning human when he wasnât around you. Nor when he was around you. His mind wandered back to that photo set as your lockscreen- of Mark holding a spoonful of ice cream, looking handsome and intimate.Â
As he sat in the backseat of the van, his mom talking the familyâs ear off about plans for his sisterâs upcoming graduation, he gritted his teeth remembering the texts.
He wondered if you read them yet, and how you felt about them. Maybe you were elated to hear from Mark, traveling back to the apartment to make love to him and accept his half-assed apology. Maybe you had already broken up with him, finally realizing your true feelings for Felix and waiting up for him in bed like you used to, only this time madly in love.Â
Felix felt like such a loser. He could no longer deny the way he felt about you, constantly wondering what you were doing when he wasnât around, who you were interacting with, and how often you thought of him. Heâd give anything to crawl around in your mind and find out how you felt about him now that things were this different. He probably wouldâve snooped through your phone last night if it wasnât locked, to find a trace of him, and come to the absurd conclusion that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.Â
Felix glanced down at his phone, opening Instagram for the millionth time today and clicking on your user. You didnât use it much, but the 18 little squares did provide a window into your life without Felix, and he hated it.Â
He hated to see you in a short dress at a club he wasnât aware of. Hated to see your graduation photos, ones he wished he wouldâve received when they were taken.Â
Hated to see the pictures you had with Mark. One whole carousel dedicated to him, ten random photos you selected for a birthday post. A selfie of the two of you in bed, a funny picture of him wearing a face mask, a photo from when he let you make little braids in his hair and posed for you. And another photo from that same ice cream date, a different angle, but just as handsome and intimate as the first time.Â
Felix clicked on all the same photos, reading the captions over again, stalking users from the comment sections and piecing together who they were in relation to you. But it was no use. No amount of obsessive stalking was going to make you like him. You had a life without him, beyond what you had five years ago. Youâd been right about that.
Felix sighed, locking his phone again and thinking back to last night. Heâd been so ecstatic to spend the night by your side again. It felt like home. He felt safe.Â
He hoped you didnât notice the erection that troubled him early into the night. Heâd been forced to focus on his breathing patterns, moving as far away from you as possible to not get aroused by your sleeping figure. He remembered you getting up at some point, a brief interval of time which he felt empty and exposed without you in your bed. When youâd returned, he felt his heart could burst, suddenly overjoyed at the reminder that you were here beside him in your bed. And that it would remain that way until morning broke. Each passing minute worried him, and he so badly wished he could freeze time and stay with you in your bed forever.
âFelix?â a voice interrupted. He snapped his head up to the mirror, humming in response to his mom.Â
âShould we coordinate so you can stay at the cabin with us? Or do you want your own room?â
His sisterâs graduation. Sheâd planned a few days with her friends to stay by the lake, and most of Felixâs family would be at the neighboring cabin.Â
âOh, uh⊠I dunno, I was planning something with a few friends.â
âThatâs okay,â she responded. âI know you have a lot you wanted to do.â
Her voice trailed back to the topic of their plans, and Felixâs mind wandered back to you. His family being away meant he had you to himself for a few days, and he wouldnât have to leave you in the mornings. He bit back a smile at the thought of staying in bed with you all day. Even just as friends.
But the change of plans meant he had to organize something special tonight. Dinner? A movie? The two of you seldom saw movies together back then, always leaving 20 minutes in to go get busy in his car. He wasnât even sure if you still liked all the same restaurants.Â
But he did have one thing in mind, and he hoped it would help you forget all about Mark.Â
*
When you woke for a second time, it was well past 11. You rubbed your eyes of sleep, surprised at how tired youâd been all week. Last nightâs events really relieved your stress- maybe a little too much.Â
You made your way to your phone, several notifications catching your eye.Â
Ten total texts from Mark, a few from last night, the last one being just an hour ago.Â
Mark: Call me when you can
Mark: I want to talk
Mark: Can you come over at all?
Mark: Sorry
You furrowed your brows, the texts ringing several alarms in your head. The constant apologies, the urgency to speak with you. The fight hadnât been that bad, right? Did you remember it differently?
And one from Felix, who seldom texted you. The two of you were still getting acquainted with speaking through little messages like this- you didnât have to in the past because you were always together. Phone calls were your preferred method of communicating with him if anything, but his texts were always so innocent, and knowing he was thinking of you made you smile.Â
Felix: đŁ
The little emoji made you giggle, momentarily forgetting about Markâs eagerness to speak with you. You shot him back a little emoji in response, settling on the sun, representative of both the day outside and his presence in your life. Sunshine.Â
You put your phone face down on the bed again, gathering your clothes and toiletries for a shower. You had to go see Mark, and something told you it was going to be a long, long conversation.Â
After a quick shower and some breakfast, (or lunch, rather), you were off to see Mark again.Â
*
The apartment was beginning to look messy all over again. There were more takeout boxes sprawled along the counter, random belongings on the dining table and dishes stacked on the coffee table.Â
âMark?â you called out.Â
âIn the bedroom,â he shouted back, a somber tone in his voice.Â
You kicked off your shoes and followed to your shared room, and the state of it confused you.
His clothes, stacked high on the bed, some hung neatly on hangers and some folded. His collection of sneakers, piled in one corner, along with his belts and hats. And miscellaneous paraphernalia that belonged to him- journals, briefcases, mementos. Â
âMark?â you said, taking in the sight.Â
He looked up at you, pulling his lips in a thin line. He looked as though heâd been crying.
âSit,â he said plainly. You complied.Â
Before he said anything, he let out a heavy sigh, scratching the back of his head.Â
âI never meant for you to find out like this,â Mark said.Â
You waited for him to continue.Â
âI just⊠things were hard. And I guess it was hard to come to you about it, because you always have your shit together.â
You twiddled your thumbs together nervously, âYouâre leaving, arenât you?â
He looked behind him at the pile of clothes. âI didnât think youâd want me around anymore.â
You turned to look at him, a little angry at him for jumping to conclusions like this. âIâve done nothing but care for you. Youâve been here at some of my lowest points. Why do you discredit me when Iâm here for yours?â
He looked at the floor, saying nothing.
âI mean for godâs sake Mark, not telling me about your job is one thing. But youâre going to act like Iâm the bad guy for needing a little space when weâre going through a rough patch? I let you have the place for a bit, doesnât mean Iâm not coming back for you. I love you and you know that.â
He swallowed. âI just donât know how weâre supposed to come back from this.â
âCome back from what, you drinking here and there to cope? A small argument we had last night?â
âMe sleeping with my lab partner,â Mark blurted out.
You fell silent. A wave of shock washed over you, and then distress. Your throat went dry, your eyes trembling with tears prematurely.Â
âYou what?â you asked, your voice coming out in a whisper.Â
Mark hung his head. âI thought you knew.â
âNo I didnât fucking know! Jesus, Mark! How long has this been going on?â The tears began to fall, staining your face with mascara.Â
âFour months,â he answered. Mark didnât cry, nor did he raise his voice. It was a casual confession, like heâd been waiting to tell you all this time.Â
Mark hadnât even been out of a job four months ago. The cheating had begun when you two were still on good terms. Or so youâd thought.Â
You nodded, silent sobs escaping your lips. Mark watched you with a guilt-ridden expression, knowing that this was it.Â
âOkay,â you said, standing up from the bed and slinging your purse over your shoulder.Â
He stood up too, observing your face. âIâll be out by the time youâre back. I already arranged for my stuff to be picked up.â
His nonchalant tone angered you. You wanted to scream, to hit him and try anything to make him stay. But the truth was, youâd already lost Mark a long time ago.Â
The two of you had been nothing but strangers in a joint bedroom, pretending nothing had gone awry, when in actuality, your feelings were just as convoluted as his. Maybe it was the stress of your job, or the existence of a routine that drove you crazy most days. Either way, you hadnât been happy with him for a long time. The same rang true for Mark.Â
âCan I ask you something?â You said before leaving.Â
He paused with baited breath.Â
âWhy did you act like I was the one who threw this all away?â
He hung his head again. âLike I said before. It was hard to come to you about it. You always have your shit together. You always know what you want. And I thinkâŠâ his voice trailed off. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish.Â
âI think your heart might be elsewhere too.âÂ
It was your turn to shift to an expression of guilt. Had he known all this time? About your complex feelings? About Felix coming back, and your nights with him, albeit nothing intimate?Â
Though you wanted to defend yourself, you couldnât. Instead, you pursed your lips together, nodding reluctantly in silence.
âIâll be back in a few days,â you said. âCan we grab a coffee or something soon?â
Markâs expression softened. He took a step forward, opening his arms for a hug, which you stepped into. His hugs, always so familiar- the scent of his cedar cologne and the firmness of his arms always felt like home. Or at least they did until this point of your life- maybe your chapter in this apartment with Mark was finally at a close.Â
âOf course we can,â he said, his voice muffled into your tear-stained shoulder.Â
And there you stood, basking in the last fragments of the place youâd called home for so long.Â
*
âDo you like these little sonnets? âCause I wrote them just for youâ
In all honesty, the last thing you wanted to do was go out tonight. Youâd spent the afternoon crying in your room, grieving the last few days you had with Mark. Heâd been a steady part of your adult life for as long as youâd known it, and suddenly, he just⊠wasnât anymore.Â
You wanted to call him and ask if he was still seeing the girl heâd cheated with. A part of you wanted to hate him, but the other part just wanted him to be happy. Maybe this adult life was something you needed to navigate away from each other now. Maybe this routine wasnât healthy for either of you. Since your freshman year of college, Mark was all youâd ever known. You hadnât slept with anyone else, hadnât dated anyone else, and hadnât really met other men aside from his friends. But the thought of navigating the future without him was petrifying.Â
On the other hand, you longed for the uncertainty. You wanted to have the freedom to go out and come home late, not having to worry about anyone waiting up for you. You wanted to discover new things about yourself, see the world, and make your own coffee at night when you worked. Itâs not that you didnât appreciate everything Mark did for you in that sense, but when incorporated into the repetitive routine of adulthood, they had lost meaning to both of you. Maybe thatâs why Mark sought something else in another woman.Â
And maybe thatâs why you couldnât push Felix away anymore.Â
You werenât sure about any of it. But you did know Mark seemed to have a weight off his shoulders. And you did know sleeping next to Felix felt⊠right. It felt safe again. It felt like home.Â
You packed a few of your nicer clothes from the apartment, trying on variations of them in the bathroom mirror back at your parentsâ house.Â
Felix had called briefly to tell you to wear something that would match his black suit, and you were intrigued by the amusement in his voice. But you also faked your excitement on the phone, trying your best to hold back tears and sniffles.
So you settled on a silky maroon dress, the draped neckline accentuating the curve of your breasts and hugging your waist like it was tailored to you. A pair of black heels complemented your dress, and you felt sexy for the first time in a while.Â
Felix called you when he arrived, almost on the dot.Â
âIâm here,â he said. âDo you want me to go up? Or- are you parents home? I should probably say hi.â
You giggled at his nervousness. Just about anything made Felix nervous. He was an over thinker at heart.Â
âIâll meet you out there,â you said.
As you adjusted your earrings in the mirror, a wave of sadness washed over you again. It had been this very dress that youâd worn when Mark was a guest speaker at your schoolâs biology department. He loved the color on you- even made sure he snapped a few photos of you in it before tearing it off between kisses.Â
You shook your head, ridding yourself of the memories, and tried your best to remind yourself that tonight was for fun. You needed a night to get your mind off things, to think of something other than your job and Mark.Â
You made your way outside, and Felix stepped out from the driverâs seat, hands folded behind his back nervously. You locked up behind you and carefully started toward the car, Felix jogging up to meet you halfway.Â
âWowâŠâ he said, staring at you in wonder.Â
You chuckled, feeling a blush rise in your cheeks.Â
âYou lookâŠâ he started, losing track of his words as his eyes locked with yours.Â
He brought two fingers up to his neck, discreetly checking for a pulse as you smiled at him. It was a habit heâd done since he was young- an even cuter one considering he always thought youâd never noticed.
âYou look very pretty,â he finished, a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.Â
âThanks,â you replied. âYou look very handsome.â
Felix checked for a pulse again, playing it off as an itch on the crook of his neck.Â
âReady?â you asked as he stood in silence.Â
âYeah,â Felix replied, trying his best to snap out of the trance he was in.Â
The two of you made your way to the car, Felix holding the door for you, and sat quietly for a moment while he confirmed the address on his phone.Â
âWhere are we going?â You asked. He only smiled at you.Â
âItâs a surprise.â
Once he started the GPS, the two of you chatted the whole drive, exchanging stories about your families and friends. Felix told you about his sisterâs graduation party, and that he would have the place to himself for a few days. Doing his best to slip in a casual invitation for you to spend the night. (Platonically, of course.)
You told him all about what your own graduation was like- down to the hangover you had after clubbing for 13 hours straight. Felix couldnât help but wonder where Mark fit into your story.Â
The drive was much like they used to be. Aside from the steamy moments you used to share, conversations were always the most fun part about being around Felix. He always had something new to tell you, little tales that kept you on your feet and drew you even closer to him. It seemed that after five long years, you could finally reciprocate with your own fascinating anecdotes.Â
Before you knew it, the two of you had arrived at a hotel, finding a parking spot in the garage below. You stepped out and looked around, wrapping your arms around yourself and inhaling the cool breeze.Â
âCold?â Felix asked, and you shook your head.Â
âFeels nice, actually.â
You linked arms with him as he led you into the building and to the elevator, where another elegant looking man pressed the up button for the two of you. A little bell chime indicated it was at your level, the double doors opening slowly in front of you. Felix ushered you in first, following carefully behind you and pressing the silver circle marked âRâ.Â
As the elevator began, it jerked with force, causing you to gasp and grip the bar to the left of you. Felix moved closer to you, placing a gentle hand on your waist as the ride continued. You felt goosebumps form on your skin at his touch, remembering all too well how it had felt back then. It still made your heart race.Â
When you arrived, the double doors slid open again, and you gasped at the view in front of you. It was a rooftop restaurant overlooking the city, thousands of little buildings below you glowing like stars in the night sky. The tables were neatly lined with white tablecloths and candles. And the best part? The rooftop was empty, aside from a waiter who politely gestured to the table nearest the ledge. You bowed graciously as he led the way and poured you both a glass of champagne, placing two menus on the table before he left.Â
As you stared awestruck at the skyline, Felixâs gaze remained locked on your gentle expression. His heart raced watching you smile, eyes twinkling with reflections of the city he called home.Â
âDo you like it?â He asked.
âLike it?â You repeated. âFelix, itâs so beautiful up here... Howâd you even find this place?â You turned to look at him and he glanced down nervously at the menu, feeling his heart might burst with affection.
âHeard of it through a friend.â
He wasnât going to tell you the truth of course- that he spent nearly two hours of his day in the backseat of his parentsâ van googling romantic dinner locations in the city. Calling up 14 in total for a last minute reservation, eventually convincing his manager to have them clear the reservation list so youâd have the privacy you deserved. Which he paid extra for- along with the private parking spot, a table closest to the ledge, and the specialty request champagne.Â
âRaspberries?â You said curiously, taking a sip of the sparkling beverage. A raspberry champagne cocktail on ice- a recipe Felix found online and personally requested.Â
âWow, you have to try the champagne,â you told Felix, eyes glimmering at the heavenly flavor. He knew youâd like it.
When the waiter came back to your table, Felix ordered you both a mutual favorite of chicken risotto, handing your menus to the waiter and turning back to you with a shy smile.Â
âWhat?â You asked playfully.Â
He giggled. âNothing. Itâs just nice to be here with you.â
You nodded, taking another sip of champagne. Of course, memories of your day with Mark still plagued your mind. You didnât want to give Felix the wrong idea considering you were still going through a rough patch, unsure of what the future even held for the two of you. Keep it casual, you reminded yourself.Â
âIt is nice,â you said. âI needed an outing like this with my best friend.â
Felixâs smile faded a little, reaching for his own glass of champagne and taking a big sip. He cleared his throat, his coughing getting louder as he set the glass down.Â
âAre you okay?â You asked.Â
He nodded with flushed cheeks and watery eyes. âRaspberry. Got stuck in my throat.â
You slid him a napkin and he wiped his mouth of the pink residue, turning away to not embarrass himself further.
âDo you want me to get you a glass of water?â You asked with concern in your voice.Â
âIâll do it,â he said quickly, standing up from the table. Iâm doing so, he bumped his knee on the edge, knocking his glass over and staining the white tablecloth.Â
âFuck,â Felix said angrily. âShit.â
You placed the glass upright again. âItâs okay, we can just remove the tablecloth.â You glanced around the rooftop for the waiter whoâd been away at the kitchen.Â
Felix piled the cutlery with shaky hands, dropping a fork with a loud clang as he scrambled to remove the tablecloth. You noticed his shakiness and reached out to place a hand gently over his own. He stopped to look at you with wide eyes.Â
âFelix,â you said. âBreathe.â
He took a deep breath and blinked a few times at you.Â
âSorry,â Felix said, embarrassment evident in his voice. âItâs been a while sinceâŠâ his voice trailed off, knowing he wasnât allowed to refer to this as a date.Â
âItâs okay,â you said. âItâs just me.â
Just you, Felix thought. Just the woman heâd been fawning over for years. Just the woman he hadnât forgotten once in the span of his new life. The woman he looked for in everyone, in everything. The woman he couldnât form sentences around or stop stumbling over himself.
âJust youâ was the problem.Â
Felix sat down across from you again, and the waiter returned with your food, placing it on the bare wooden table with a questioning look. Felix sheepishly handed him the strained tablecloth.Â
Felixâs nervousness had always been charming to you. You couldnât help but smile at the way heâd display those same mannerisms from years ago, desperate to look âcoolâ, and being anything but in the process.Â
âWhat?â Felix asked you this time, cutting into his chicken.Â
âNothing,â you said. âI think itâs better without the tablecloth anyway.â
He huffed out a laugh. âIt was a little overkill.â
âOh, definitely. In fact, they shouldâve swapped our table for one of those plastic outdoor ones. Those are peak fine dining. Or maybe those cheeseburger stools from McDonaldâs? Now that wouldâve been impressive.â
Felix laughed loudly, and you joined him, watching as his shoulders relaxed with every movement.Â
As the night progressed, Felix seemed a lot more comfortable, finally coming around to the idea of having dinner with his best friend- nothing more. Memories of Mark tainted your mind when the night fell silent, and the images of him were still burned into Felixâs mind. But you both embraced the night with open arms, like you were the only two who existed in this timeline- the way it was when you were just kids.Â
At the end of the night, you got up to get a better look at the view. Felix followed, snapping a few photos and dragging you into one for a selfie in front of the skyline.Â
You wrapped your arms around yourself, admiring the way everything looked so small from up here. So insignificant, so fleeting. Like your life was a city, and every building was just a small part of it, no matter how big it seemed from down there.Â
âSee there?â You said, pointing at the south side. âThatâs where my apartment is.â
Felix looked out, squinting at the horizon.Â
âAnd there,â you said, pointing in another direction. âIs where my university was.â
From the corner of your eye, you could tell Felix wasnât looking at the skyline anymore. He had his gaze locked on you, carefully observing the way your hair flowed in the gentle night time breeze. Two fingers worked their way up to check his pulse again- still breathing.Â
You didnât look back at him. Instead, you studied the way the city seemed to change by the minute. Planes with flashing lights flickering in thick fog, cars that drove by in the blink of an eye. Offices still with their lights on, apartments and houses already asleep for the night. It was all so changing- so uncertain. You could take pictures just seconds apart and itâd be the same place, but never the exact same moment in time.
âWant to get going?â You asked, still aware of his eyes on you.Â
âYeah,â Felix said quietly. He wasnât sure what heâd been hoping for, but he felt briefly disappointed.Â
You finally turned to him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling at him. âCome on then.â
Felix led you down the stairs to the elevator, where you both entered, and he pushed a silver circle marked 17.
You cocked your head in confusion. âIsnât it the garage level?â
A knowing smile met your confused expression. âI booked us a room for the night.â
It was the last of Felixâs surprises- one he knew youâd be excited about. Similarly, one he hoped wouldnât overstep his boundaries. Fancy hotel rooms were something the two of you only dreamt of in the past, joking about how youâd order one of everything from room service and sleep in everyday till noon. Along with a list of other things you always wanted to try, but he knew very well that was no longer a part of the plan. He didnât mind, simply wanting to spend a night by your side in a room that wasnât your childhood bedroom. Now that he could afford it, heâd make sure you experienced everything you once wanted to.Â
âFelixâŠâ you began. âThis is too much.â
He shook his head nonchalantly. âItâs a little day trip. You donât work tomorrow and my familyâs out for the weekend. Might as well stay while weâre here.â
The elevator stopped at your floor and you got off, following his strut down the hall as he found your room. He pulled a white card out from the pocket of his suit, scanning it and pushing the door open with ease.Â
âCome on,â he said, gesturing for you to follow him.Â
The sweet scent of vanilla and sandalwood filled the room all around you in an instant. You gasped at the sight of tall clear windows that overlooked the same skyline view you had at dinner. Two massive beds occupied the middle of the room that connected to a single bathroom.
âWhat about our stuff?â You said suddenly, unable to imagine sleeping in this gown.Â
âThe staffâs already on their way up with our bags. You donât have to worry about that.â
 Felix sat on the edge of the bed, arms rested behind him. You made your way over to him, sitting opposite him on your own bed, unable to speak.Â
âI⊠I donât even know what to say.â
He chuckled. âYou donât have to say anything. I just wanted to do something fun for my best friend.â
âThank you,â you said. âSeriously- thank you. This has been the best surprise after such a⊠shitty week. I really needed this.â
âIâm glad,â Felix replied. âThat was my plan.â He laid back on the white duvet, spreading his limbs out along the surface. âNow can we please order some dessert from room service?â
*
âWe wanna talk about sex but weâre not allowedâÂ
âSolid 6/10.âÂ
âWhat?â You replied. âNo way.â
âWay,â Felix replied. âThe vanilla tastes⊠bitter.â
âBitter? Are we eating the same thing?â
âCrĂšme brĂ»lĂ©e. Bitter crĂšme brĂ»lĂ©e.â He remarked.Â
You laughed, setting down your fork.Â
âOkay, last one.â You lifted the silver dome cover off the last plate, revealing a single slice of cheesecake.Â
âNow this one Iâm judging harshly,â Felix said.Â
âYou judged all of them harshly!â You said jokingly.
âTouchĂ©.â
âReady? One, two, threeâŠâ you popped a forkful in your mouth, chewing for a moment before nodding. âThatâs the single best slice of cheesecake Iâve ever had.â
âNo way,â Felix said.Â
âWay,â you replied.
You handed the fork back to Felix, who took a bite of his own, thinking it over for a second. â8/10.â
âWhat! Youâre just being cocky now.â
âMine is better! You canât deny that.â
âMmm Iâm not so sure.â
In a fit of laughter, you laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and shutting your eyes briefly. âI canât believe weâre here.âÂ
You turned your head to face the view again, speckles of city lights gleaming from beyond the tall glass windows.Â
âItâs something, huh?â Felix said.Â
âMhmm. This was one of our bucket list items from that summer.â
Felix felt his heartbeat quicken, surprised you brought up the topic of that summer at all. Heâd wanted to talk about it for so long, not being able to with your new established dynamic.Â
âYeah,â he said. âI remember.â
âWhatâd we plan again? Dessert from the room service menu, steal the amenities? Sleep on silk sheets?â
He looked at you nervously, waiting for you to say it. Something- anything at all to prove you remembered.Â
Have sex in the jacuzzi, Felix thought to himself. Fuck on the balcony. Do it in the middle of the night and try not to wake the neighboring rooms.Â
âYeah,â he settled on replying. âThink you got everything.â
You sat up again, making your way over to your suitcase and digging out your toothbrush out from the pile of clothes. âGonna brush,â you said.Â
Felix followed, sharing the sink space with you as you brushed your teeth in front of the large mirror.Â
He wore a simple white shirt and blue flannel pants, you much more exposed in white cotton shorts and a tank top. Felixâs eyes darted briefly to your body and then back at your reflection in the mirror, and you suddenly felt much more aware of your appearance.Â
When you finished, you crawled under the duvet again and enveloped yourself in the thick white sheets. You turned to face Felix, who climbed into his own bed across from you.Â
âThank you,â you said to him again. âFor tonight.â
Felix nodded nervously. âYou deserve it.â
And sleep washed over you quickly.Â
*
âSo how should I begin this? I guess it started when you were with himâ
Felix hadnât slept at all- in fact, he spent a good portion of the night facing you and letting the steady sound of your breathing fill the room. Rather he couldnât sleep, unable to contain the growing bulge in his pants at the sight of your figure.Â
He felt like such a loser again, his mind going back to summer when you made all those plans for a hotel room. And yet here he was, sleeping a few feet away from you in his own bed, having unholy thoughts about someone with a boyfriend. It was an unprecedented level of pathetic he felt.Â
Trying his best not to wake you, he slipped out from the covers, tip-toeing his way to the bathroom. At least he could get some relief in there and maybe get some shut-eye.Â
But his efforts were futile, waking you up as soon as he took the first steps toward you.
âFelix?â You called out.Â
âSorry,â he responded quickly, awkwardly bending over to hide his crotch. âI couldnât sleep. Was gonna get a drink of water.â
You smiled sympathetically, patting the bed next to you. âGet in,â you said politely. He panicked.Â
Youâd surely find out about the ongoing incident if he complied. But selfishly, he wanted to, hoping that being closer to you would help it die down. A dense thought process, thatâs for sure.Â
So he obeyed, pulling his t-shirt down and slipping under the sheets so fast you couldnât possibly have noticed in this darkness. You turned to face him, finally being able to see his face at this proximity. And for a minute, the two of you said nothing, gazing at each other under the dim glow of the city lights outside.Â
You canât remember who initiated it first, thinking it mightâve very well been you, who scooted closer and kissed him.Â
Felix shut his eyes instinctively, like he knew this was going to happen. But the fact was, he didnât. His heartbeat raced at a concerning speed now, head dizzy with thoughts. Still, he said nothing. Asked nothing. He just stayed there, kissing you back like his life depended on it.Â
A tender hand found its way to your cheek, where he brushed a strand of your hair aside to place little kisses along your face. In doing so, he moved even closer, accidentally brushing his waist against your thigh.Â
âFuck,â Felix said while pulling away. âIâm sorry. Iâm really sorry.â
He was rock hard now, head spinning with the reminder of how you tasted and breathed against him like this.Â
You hoisted yourself up, looking down at his fearful expression. But you didnât say anything in response, instead leaning down to kiss him again. His kisses were more desperate this time, little moans escaping into your mouth as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip. You pulled away again for a breath, and Felix panicked thinking you might leave or stop.Â
This time however, you climbed over his delicate frame, straddling his waist as he sat up and rested his back against the headboard. His crotch pressed against you eagerly, but you stayed there for an excruciating few minutes, running a hand over his chest and into his blonde locks.Â
âBlondeâŠâ you said in an amused tone.
You traced his freckles with a single finger, sliding down to graze over the slope of his nose and then over his plump, needy lips.Â
âPleaseâŠâ Felix whispered as you leaned in to kiss him. âPlease,â he said again between soft kisses. âPlease, please, pleaseâŠâÂ
His usually deep voice was much higher in pitch when he was this needy, and youâd never heard it this way before.Â
âMmm. Please what?â You said against his wet lips. He hesitated for a moment.Â
âPlease⊠use meâŠâ he said shyly, a twinge of desperation as his breath hitched in his throat. His hips rocked gently against yours, reluctant hands finding their way down to your waist.Â
The friction made you moan softly against him, and it was your turn to kiss him with longing. You wasted no more time reaching a hand between the two of you to pull off his pants as he slid your shorts down. You wrapped your legs around his torso in just your panties, clothed cock pressed firmly against your growing wetness, and he groaned in frustration.Â
âFuckâŠâ he breathed out. âDonât move or I might finish.â
You smiled between gentle kisses to his collarbones. Knowing he wasnât exaggerating about finishing prematurely, you finally pulled his boxers down, wrapping one hand around his length and moving up and down.Â
âAhâŠâ Felix struggled against your touch.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â You cooed sweetly. âGonna finish?â
He nodded with his eyes squeezed shut tightly.Â
âThatâs okay,â you said with a smile. âYou can cum if you want to.âÂ
âI donât⊠ahâŠâÂ
And with a scrunched nose, he found his release, making a mess all over his stomach between you.Â
âFuck,â Felix said. âI didnât want to finish yet. Sorry.â His eyes were teary and spaced out as he caught his breath.Â
You circled the strings of liquid with your index finger, dipping into his navel to gather some on the tips of your fingers.Â
âThatâs okay,â you said calmly, bending down to kiss him again. âI didnât say I was done using you.â
Felix swallowed nervously, trying his best to hold back the inevitable tears.Â
âYou okay to give me one more?â You said, sliding your hand down between your legs to play with yourself. You circled your clit with his cum, gasping in pleasure at the warm sensation.Â
Tears fell from his face as he nodded and waited for your instruction.Â
âGood,â you said, kissing away his tears as you continued to touch yourself. âTell me if you want to stop, okay?â
Felix nodded nervously, watching intently as you finally removed your panties and spread further to take all of him. With gentle movements, you wrapped your arms around his neck, positioning over him and sliding down ever so slowly. His hands gripped your waist as he helped fill you up.Â
It was a sensation Felix hadnât been prepared for. He winced at the overstimulation, trying his best to remain semi-hard so youâd have a chance to finish. But the feeling of you gently bouncing on his cock made him cry even more, desperate to help you find your release and to hear you shower him with praise.Â
âDoing so good,â you told him between breathless movements. âKiss me.â
He obeyed, planting sloppy tear-stained kisses on your mouth as you used him for your own pleasure. He pulled away again, mouth finding its way to your breasts, where he kissed and sucked your nipples with fondness.Â
And between his fervent kisses in the valley of your breasts, you found your own release, clutching his shoulders as you trembled and dribbled cum all over his length.Â
You slid off of him with ease and back onto the bed, where you both took a minute to catch your breath. Felix was unsure of what to say, and you could hardly form a sentence.Â
Instead you got dressed again and sat up to go to the bathroom. âGonna get cleaned up,â you said simply.Â
As you stood, Felix gripped your wrist, pulling you toward him again. âDonât leave,â he said in a frightened tone.Â
âI just need tissues,â you explained.Â
âDonât leave,â he said again, tears trickling down his face.Â
âFelix, Iâm just-â
âIâm in love with you,â Felix blurted out.Â
Your heart raced and you took a deep breath. You stood between his legs observing the way he now let out dramatic sobs as he began to speak.Â
âIâm so fucking in love with you and I canât help it. Iâve always loved you. Ever since we were kids. You can hold me and comfort me until I stop crying but itâs not gonna change the fact that Iâm crying because I love you.â
You reached a hand up, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He continued talking as he cried, the stream of consciousness giving him the confidence heâd always yearned to utilize.Â
âI tried. I tried for so long with other girls, with other people. It was never the same. I thought there was something wrong with me because Iâd cry so much whenever I was with you. And it never happened with anyone else. It took me years and some stupid hookups before I realized it was because I was always in love with you.Â
Thatâs why I came back. You make me feel so damn safe all the time. I canât taste Oreo mcflurries or raspberry chapstick without thinking of you first. I wouldâve still been in love with you if you kept ignoring me. Iâm still in love with you even though you have him. And I donât know what weâre doing, but I do know that Iâm in love with you. Back then, and now, and in five years time.â
He hung his head in shame, crying like a guilty child, and you towered over him in silence. Heâd never felt so vulnerable before, crying in front of the girl he loved in complete nudity.Â
Part of you knew this was coming- there was no denying Felix hadnât been the most inconspicuous about his romantic feelings toward you since returning. But you couldnât find the words to say to him, knowing anything you could say right now was only going to hurt him. You and Mark werenât technically broken up yet, and your heart largely remained there still. You and Felix also led two completely different lives- yours, a monotonous adult routine, and his, riddled with fame and splendor. It was never going to work the way he wanted it to. This was all a fleeting thing like it had been back then- this wasnât reality.Â
âPlease say something,â Felix pleaded.
âIâm sorry,â you said quietly. âWe shouldnât have done this.â
He looked up at you through tears, hardly making out the expression on your face as the room blurred around him. And with a simple nod, he understood. You were not in love with Felix.Â
With a gentle release of your wrists, he allowed you to get cleaned up, crying in front of the bathroom mirror as you rid yourself of his traces. When you returned, Felix was back in his own bed, lying on his side away from you.
Not so much as a sniffle was heard as you turned out the light again, falling asleep to his words replaying in your head like a broken record.Â
*
âDid he ever make you cum? Did he ever make you cry?â
You were up early that morning, quick to shower last nightâs mistake off your aching body. Felix stayed in bed facing the window, forcing himself to keep his eyes shut though he wasnât asleep. His eyes could hardly pry themselves open anyway, now swollen and red from all the crying heâd done.Â
When you finished getting dressed, you sat on the edge of your bed, staring out at the view in the daytime. The city was completely different at this time of day. People looked like little ants from this high up, and you followed their paths as they navigated the world below. Into stores, apartment buildings, even meeting for coffee. It was so human- so unpredictable where the next little ant would find themselves. So uncertain.Â
You heard Felix shuffle about in bed, and you decided to go check on him for the first time, holding your breath as you made your way to his side.Â
âFelix,â you said timidly. âYou should eat something.â
He kept his eyes shut, furrowing his brows into a frown as he felt your hand run through his hair.Â
âNot hungry,â he said in a raspy voice.Â
âCome on,â you replied. âCheckoutâs at 11. Weâve only got two hours to enjoy this view before we have to leave.â
Felix fluttered one eye open, looking at you for the first time since last night. His heart pained him all over again. Your hair was still damp from your shower, face free of makeup and the lingering scent of peaches on your skin.Â
He exhaled through his nose, eyes wandering past you and zoning out.Â
And then with some hesitation, you crawled into the unmade bed beside him, slipping under the covers and wrapping an arm around him the way you always used to. You held him like that for a minute, rubbing his arm soothingly and playing with the back of his hair.Â
Felix couldnât feel excited about any of it, too heartbroken to feel anything but sorrow in your arms now. Tears brimmed his eyes again as you lulled him into another wave of sleepiness.Â
âDo you love him?â Felix broke the silence suddenly. You swallowed, finally choosing to be honest with him. It was the least you could do while he grieved.Â
âYeah. I do.â
âDoes he⊠satisfy you?â Felix asked. You were taken aback at the question, and Felix was shocked that he brought it up. But he needed closure right now. He needed answers to the questions heâd been overthinking all week.Â
âMhm.â
He thought for a second. âDoes he ever make you cry?â
It was your turn to think for a minute. âSometimes. When we fight, I guess. Itâs not often, though.â
Felix shut his eyes again, wanting to ask more questions, but feeling too tired and anguished. You continued massaging his arm, feeling his tension loosen in your touch.Â
âGo back to sleep,â you said finally. âIâll wake you when itâs time to check out.â
And he did, dozing off properly in your tender embrace.
*
When you parted ways that day, Felix knew very well he might never see you again.Â
Heâd messed things up by confessing how he felt, only to be met with what heâd feared all along- you were indeed in love with Mark. There was never a chance that the two of you would work out. Still, the truth pained him. The dull ache in his chest was made worse by the way you cared for him, giving his hand a little squeeze in the car and rubbing his back when he pulled you in for one last hug. He knew you were just trying to make him feel better. But deep down he was angry- at himself for not staying, at Mark for being able to call you his, even at you for being intimate with him last night. He didnât regret it, but he did wish it ended the way heâd hoped it to.Â
On the drive home, Felix had the realization that things were now different. His feelings were out there in the open, and you were free to do whatever you wanted with them. Regardless of how you felt, it meant things between you were going to change.Â
He was no longer welcome to sneak into your room late at night- even as friends. He couldnât bake you little surprises or text you at random times throughout the day. And the idea of ever kissing you again was just a distant daydream, so far out of reach it seemed like something that had never occurred in the first place.Â
He wondered how you felt about the situation. And he wondered if you knew how terribly he regretted it. In an alternate universe, Felix had just let you go get cleaned up and cuddled you to sleep, pushing away the idea that you had cheated on your partner. It would have been a fleeting thing like it had always been. Like it was always supposed to be. A lingering thought made Felix consider calling you up to ask why youâd cheated on Mark if you loved him, but that would involve talking to you.Â
What he didnât know, of course, is that you werenât in love with Mark anymore.Â
*
âI hope weâre still friends, yeah I hope you donât mindâ
Standing in the living room you two shared, Mark wrapped up the last of his boxes with tape and looked over at you. The room had never felt this empty without his video game consoles or his sneakers lying around carelessly.Â
âIf I forget anything Iâll come by to pick it up later this week,â he said. âBut thatâs the most of it.â
You wiped a few stray tears. âWhere are you going again?â
âI told you,â Mark said, sitting on the couch next to you and resting a hand on your thigh. âCouple friends have a room for rent just an hour from here. Itâs safe. I donât want you to worry.â
He reached up to wipe a tear with his thumb lovingly. You missed these moments- sitting on the couch together like this, only now they were tainted with heartbreak and mourning what once was.Â
âIs she going to be there?â You asked after a moment.Â
Mark looked down, and then back up at your face. âDo you remember when I had blue hair?â He asked suddenly.Â
âWhat?â
âThe blue hair. Arctic fresh, like you used to call it.â
You chuckled a little. That term had slipped your mind after graduation.Â
âYeah. I remember.â
âAnd you used to sit in the library all day.â
âUntil you started stalking me.â
âDonât act like you didnât love it!â Mark retorted. The two of you laughed for a bit, and you almost forgot you were sad in the first place.Â
âI didnât know when you were gonna be there,â Mark continued. âI had no clue how to approach you. Hell, I didn't even know what kind of person you were gonna be.â
You listened to him as gestured with his hands.Â
âThat uncertainty- there was something so fun about it.â
There was that word again- one that had been on your mind lately. A lot of things felt uncertain as of right now.Â
âRemember when we didnât have a mattress?â
You shook your head. âGod. Donât remind me.â Mark laughed in response.
ïżœïżœïżœWe used jackets as blankets! It was fun though, wasnât it? We thought weâd never finish furnishing the place. I kinda loved not knowing what it was going to look like yet.â
You pondered his words carefully. There was a lot of truth in them- the months you spent sleeping on the floor and eating microwave pizzas together for dinner were some of your most memorable times. You only got through it because you had hope that the future would make up for those nights.Â
âYou seemed happier too,â Mark said. âAnd I want you to be that happy all the time. I donât want you to be scared of the future.â
You began to cry again, trembling as Mark pulled you in for a hug.Â
âI donât know how to do this without you,â you said. âThis⊠routine. Being an adult.â
âYouâve always known how,â Mark said. âYou just have to go live it. Donât let yourself get stuck at a computer all day. Donât let the only time you leave the house be to get coffee creamer at night.â
You smiled at him sheepishly.Â
âIâm learning too,â Mark said. âI kinda want to get out of this city. Get a new job.â
You nodded.Â
âAnd I want you to do some badass things,â he said, poking your knee and making you smile. âI want to hear all about them. But you gotta do them first!â
With a gentle sigh, you nodded again.Â
Mark twiddled his fingers for a moment.Â
âItâs him, isnât it?â
âWhat?â You said, head snapping up to look at him.Â
âDude from the band.â
Your heart sped up, unsure of what to say.Â
âI tried your parentsâ house a few days ago. Two of you were headed out somewhere. Canât believe I even recognized him, but I pieced it together.â
âWhy⊠I mean-â
âDoesnât matter,â he said with a reassuring shake of his head. âI want you to be happy. I wasnât the most honest with you, either.â
After a pause, you took Markâs hand in yours. âIâm sorry,â you said. âAnd I love you. And Iâll never stop loving you. Whether weâre together or not.â
He nodded at your words. âI know. And Iâm sorry. Iâm never out of reach- you know where to find me.â
Mark pulled you in for one last hug, crying softly into your shoulder. âGo find that happiness again,â he said. âIâll always be here.â
After helping move his boxes to the car and exchanging your final goodbyes, you returned to the apartment, clutching the keys in hand like you did the very first time you got them.
The apartment felt quiet, yet strangely comfortable. Youâd never seen so many sunbeams shine through the windows like this before- illuminating the empty corners with a hopeful glow. Despite the vacant areas, the apartment felt eerily beautiful like this. You caressed the drywall with a tender hand, thinking briefly about the potential this place always had. There were so many new spots for paintings and photos. So many opportunities to decorate again. So much to look forward to.Â
*
âSwear we were only being honestâ
Markâs departure made a lot of things clear for you. You thought about what he said for days after adjusting to the empty apartment- about chasing happiness and learning to embrace the uncertainty you were always so afraid of.Â
He was right. You had become a shell of the woman you once were, only existing to do work and repeat the routine that tricked you into believing it was the epitome of life itself. But it never had been- it was you who made it that way.Â
Looking out your window at the empty street late at night, the only noise you could hear was the dull buzz of cicadas that stalked the tall grass.
You returned to your parentsâ house for one last night to collect your things and say your goodbyes to your parents. Everything looked the same as it always did on nights like this- cars parked neatly in their spots, houses with their lights off, and neatly trimmed bushes swaying gently in the summer breeze. Your hands trembled as you climbed out the window, dressed for the weather in a light sweater and a pair of shorts.Â
As you jogged out to the street, you paused to look up at the vast sky above you. The sky had never seen you this late at night like this, out in the middle of the street with such purpose. You were normally curled up with a book at this late hour. Yet you greeted it with excitement and curiosity, laughing up at the constellations as you planted two feet in the concrete below you.Â
After admiring the scenery at this time, you were on your way again, racing like a child down the block. You passed the houses you had always known, appreciating the way they were a steady part of your life for this long. You turned the corner with such vigor, you thought you might fall if you didnât slow down. But you didnât- you ran and ran, and you didnât stop.Â
Felixâs house was a mere three blocks from yours, yet youâd never visited in the middle of the night like this. It has always been him to initiate it. He was the risk-taker, the troublemaker, a fact you forced yourself to challenge after your conversation with Mark.Â
When you arrived, you looked up at his house, unsure of what to do for a moment. You werenât entirely sure which room was his anymore.Â
So you pulled out your phone, dialing him before you could stop to overthink it. Felix answered on the second ring.
âHi,â you breathed.Â
He paused for a moment.Â
âAre you⊠okay?â
âIâm fine,â you replied. âCould you open the window?â
âWhat?â
âThe window. I canât remember which one is yours- God your grass is tall. There aren't any spiders here, right?â
Before you could finish, the curtains drew back in front of the window closest to you, and Felix stood there with his cellphone pressed to his ear. He observed the way you scratched at an itch on your ankle, finally looking up to meet his gaze and giving him a little wave.Â
âArenât you cold?â He asked, dropping his phone down at his side as you walked over.Â
âNot a bit. Itâs actually kinda nice out.â
He helped you climb in, and you looked around the room with wonder in your eyes.Â
âWow. I havenât been here since we were kids.âÂ
The walls were lined with old photos of him, neatly arrayed in white picture frames. There was a large desk opposite his bed with old taekwondo medals hanging directly above. And his bed was neatly made, except for one corner from which Felix had untucked himself from.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â Felix asked with hesitation. His voice was tinged with sadness still.Â
You set a paper bag down on the desk, turning to face him. âLittle something from me.â
Felix looked at the bag and then at you again. You eyed him for a moment, noticing his unkempt hair and the subtle bags under his eyes. His blonde locks were pushed out of his face, framing his expression of sorrow. He wore a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants, much simpler than youâd seen him dressed on other days, yet he somehow still looked so sophisticated.Â
With reluctance in his step, he unfolded the bag, reaching inside to pull out a small Oreo McFlurry and a carton of fries. He examined the cup, setting it down again and avoiding eye contact.Â
âI told you I donât get these anymore.âÂ
âNo,â you said. âYou said you couldnât get them because they brought back memories.â
He shrugged. âYeah. Whatâs the difference?â
âThe difference is that Iâm here now. And you donât have to stop doing all your favorite things because they bring back memories.â
âYou donât get it,â he said, sighing again. âPlease donât make me say it again.â
You hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater, eyes trembling with fear as you began to speak. Breaking down your walls around other people was always a difficult feat for you.Â
âYou donât have to say anything,â you told him. âJust please listen to me and then Iâll get out of here.â
Felix sat on the edge of the bed with his hands on his knees.
âFelix- you and I live completely different lives. You left before my life even started. Most of what I know about you I had to learn through google searches. You wake up in different countries 6 out of 7 days in the week. You know what you want, and every single day is different for you.â
âYou googled me?â Felix said. You ignored his question as you continued to speak.Â
âYou have to understand that this never would have worked out between us.â
He hung his head and wiped a few stray tears with the back of his hand. âI kind of figured it wasnât going to work out. You didnât have to come here to tell me again.â
âI came here,â you interrupted him. âBecause Iâm in love with you.â
His head snapped up this time, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as you continued to speak through tears.Â
âAnd it scares the hell out of me. Weâre two different people in two completely different worlds, but it doesnât change the fact that itâs always been you. And itâs always going to be you. Thereâs no one else Iâd rather get McDonaldâs with at 3 in the morning. Or stain fancy tablecloths with. I love it when you do that thing where you check your pulse when you get nervous. Or when you bake me little desserts, even though I never ask you to. And I love wiping your tears after we get intimate, because I hate seeing you sad and Iâd spend a lifetime wiping your tears if it meant I could be by your side.â
The room fell quiet as you finished. Felix looked up with an expression of sorrow and shock. His eyes welled with tears as he sniffled and gave you one short nod.Â
âHow about Mark?â
You smiled and shrugged. âSometimes love has other plans.â
And Felix smiled for the first time tonight, stretching out both arms toward you, which you wasted no time running into. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap and holding you for a moment as you both laughed through sniffles.Â
As he pulled away to look into your eyes, his thumbs wiped your tears away delicately, caressing your face in a gentle embrace.Â
âI donât want to lose you again,â he said suddenly. His expression shifted to that of concern.
âYou have me right now,â you said calmly. âAnd weâll figure out the rest. I donât want to get too caught up in worrying about the future.â
He smiled again, moving a strand of hair out of your face as he leaned in to kiss you. His lips tasted like raspberry, moving gently along yours as you smiled against him.Â
âWhat happens now?â
You thought about it for a moment. It was a good question- you hadnât thought about where the night was going to take you after this conversation.Â
âLetâs go out.âÂ
âNow? Itâs almost 2 in the morning.â
âNow. Letâs go anywhere. I just want to be with you.â
Felix ran a hand through your hair as he chuckled.Â
âYouâre full of surprises tonight.â
You climbed off of him as he walked to the closet and picked out a pair of pants. And you sat watching him eagerly, afraid you might lose him if you looked away for even a second.Â
When he turned around again to button his pants, he locked eyes with your tender gaze and smiled. The moonlight glistened through the window onto your skin, little blue patches painting your frame delicately like an oil painting. Your eyes sparkled with longing for him, and he smiled at the way you blinked up at him with such endearment.Â
âI love you,â you said suddenly.Â
âI love you,â he replied, leaning down to kiss you. âI love you. I love you. I really love you.â
When he finished getting dressed, he took your hand in his, helping you out the window and into the cool summer air. The cicadas and birds were quiet, and the only sounds you could hear came from the trees rustling in the nighttime breeze. Felix towered over you in the dim glow of the streetlights, never once looking away from the twinkle in your eyes as you spoke. And you continued, with no destination in mind, down the streets you had explored so many times as kids together. The same picket fences and concrete roads seemed so much more charming this way- hands interlocked as you stopped every now and then to exchange kisses and share spoonfuls of the now melted Oreo McFlurry. At last, you were home again- all was safe.Â
*
âAll by yourself, sitting aloneâ
The loud chime of the overhead speaker caught your attention as you meticulously worked to buckle your seatbelt. All around you, people took their seats too, children squirming with excitement and couples assisting each other with the overhead bins in the aisles. You sat alone, taking in the atmosphere as you prepared for hours of being sat here.Â
Thoughts of doubt rushed to your mind as you examined a Korean pamphlet in front of you- was this the right decision? Were you going to be happy? Would you even find work there?
Your throat went dry thinking about the endless possibilities. And then you remembered Markâs kind words echoing through you- âgo chase that happinessâ.Â
You were never going to know if you didnât get out there first. Maybe this was where you were always meant to be.Â
In between conversations with yourself, your phone buzzed with a new text. You checked it frantically, smiling at the message.
Felix: đŁ
Your heartbeat slowed again, and you took a deep breath as you pushed your negative thoughts aside. You were finally chasing your happiness- Felix was your happiness. And maybe traveling 5,000 miles for the guy you loved seemed crazy, but it felt right. As long as you were by his side, you would face the future together.Â
You shot him back a little sunshine emoji before putting your phone away again. And you shut your eyes, grateful for the gentle reminder of why you were doing this.
You werenât certain about much, but you were certain about Lee Felix. And maybe that was enough.
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off the deep end. (07)
~(part 7) the last nail in a shared coffin~
pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)
genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 20.6k
series rating: 18+ **minors do not interact**
chapter warnings: violent mature themes, explicit sexual content (consensual, unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of breeding), nightmares, mentions of murder/death, mentions of parent death, oppressive government, fighting, weaponry (knife use), panic, injury, blood, language, a whole lot lot of angst, please lmk if i missed any!!
a/n: thank you all so much for your patience and continued support, it really does mean the world to mee.<3 any feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are more appreciated than you know. im so excited to share the next part of this journey with you!! as always, i hope you enjoy.âĄâĄ
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"fear and love are like interwoven threadsâimmutable and bound together by celestial forces. the sun and moon navigate the intricate dance of light and darkness for eternity, echoing the delicate balance between the two emotions that every heart must learn."
Felix had always been able to divide fear into two distinct entities.
The first was immediate, tangible. The kind of fear heâd grown accustomed to like an old, unwelcome acquaintance. The kind that crept beneath his skin when he could no longer ignore hungerâs gnawing ache. When he observed the hollow eyes of his companions after scouring the barren landscape, only to return empty-handed. It was the frigid air that seeped into his bones during long winter nights, the kind that set his pulse racing when footsteps echoed too closely in the darkness.Â
The second was deeper, a phantom kind of fear that stained the recesses of his soul. It was a desperate gasp for air in the suffocating grip of hands that devoured the weak. The cool touch of a steel barrel against skin that bore the marks of a merciless world. It was fear in the phantom weight of invisible chains that had once coiled around his neckâchains wielded by demons from a past that clawed relentlessly at the barriers of his sanity.
It was the dread that he would wake up one morning to discover a void where sevenâno, eight souls had once stood beside him. To find his humanity stripped away again, replaced by the savage instincts he had fought so hard to overcome.Â
The kind of fear that crept into his dreams belonged to the second category.
Nearly six hours had slipped away since the first glimmer of morning light, when you had woken Felix from the nightmare.
"Felix,â your voiceâyour real voiceânot the distorted echo from his nightmare, had called out. Clear and reassuring, summoning him from the depths of his own subconscious.Â
âFelix, wake up. Youâre dreaming.â
His eyelids shot open, pupils dilating wildly as they struggled to adjust. A sharp gasp pierced the stillness as his body surged forward. Disoriented, his hands instinctively sought you out as he struggled to untangle the threads of the nightmare from reality.
"It's okay,â you whispered, fingers gently gripping his shoulder, "you're safe."
Youâre safe, you'd said. And those words, while meant to comfort him, had almost caused Felix to laugh, at the absurdity of the idea that he could ever be tormented by a nightmare involving his own harm.
His head lifted, glossy eyes still clouded with the remnants of fear. Yet, relief began to glimmer within their depths. Because your lips were not stained red, there was no blood-soaked knife clutched in his hand, no imaginary blade pierced through your chest.Â
Felix drew in a shuddering breath, reality slowly stitching itself back together. Piece by piece, thread by thread.
You watched him closely, concern dancing in your eyes as you tried to grasp the torment of whatever horrors he had witnessed in his sleep. And then youâd sighed, heavy with affection and a touch of sadness, before shifting closer.Â
Your arms enveloped his shoulders and, to his own surprise, Felix didn't resist your touchâthough maybe he should have, given what his subconscious had just inflicted upon you. But he couldnât find the strength to keep his arms from making their way around you in return.
His head dropped to your shoulder, the tension in his muscles easing. Warm touch met cold, trembling skin. The physical contact was groundingâyou were grounding. A lifeline anchoring Felix to the reality he so desperately needed to return to.Â
He strained to listen until the steady rhythm of your heart found his ear. In the stillness, the sound grew and grew until it was the only thing he heard. Every beat was proof that you were real, breathing and alive. But as the moments stretched Felix began to fear that it might slow, that every beat might be the last before an eternity of silence, that he would look up to find a dagger buried in it once again andâ
The air in his lungs became thin, his grip tightened, fingers digging into your back. âI couldnât do anything," his voice rumbled low, muffled by the fabric of your shoulder. And he didn't even know what he was saying but the words had come out trembling. As if the nightmare had lodged itself in his throat, constricting his vocal cords.Â
âItâs okay,â you hushed, your lips grazing his ear in a soft caress. âItâs just a dream, it can't hurt you."
But it's not about me, he thought. It's not about me, it's never been about me. But it remained a silent confession. Because he could not bring himself to tell you the real reason the nightmare had left him so shaken. A quiet truth that hung heavily in the air, tethered to the gruesome image of you that still clung to his mind.
With a gentle tug, you encouraged him to join you in lying back down. Felix hesitated, his gaze falling toward the caveâs entranceâa reminder of the harsh reality waiting outside. But you cupped his cheek and, with a tender smile and the quiet utterance of his name, convinced him to stay.Â
Your bodies melded together against the uneven contours of the cave floor. Your fingers threaded through his disheveled hair, tracing the curve of his scalp with each gentle stroke. Another hour might have unfolded as you clung to each other in silence, but it never would have been enough. Time slipped away, ignoring Felix's silent plea for it to slow.
When the rest of the boys began to stir, you shared a hesitant glance. Despite his obvious reluctance for you to withdraw, slowly, gradually, you did. Your fingers left Felixâs hair and his hands slid away from your back. He let you go, eyes following your retreat, and the ache in his chest returned at full force.
As you reclaimed your original spot a few feet away, you stretched, covering a yawn. Your casual expression revealed nothing of the profound momentâthe profound nightâyou had shared with Felix. A night of stolen intimacy, waiting to resurface again in the quiet moments when the world turned its back.
-
As he drove the motorcycle, squinting against the pale brightness, Felix used the sunâs position in the sky to track the passage of time.
Early afternoon, he figured. Maybe eight hours now since the group had abandoned the safety of the cave. And despite the solace heâd found in your touch that morning, a growing shadow of guilt threatened to consume his mind.Â
With every hour, the weight of the nightmare's horrors slowly eased, though they never fully vanished. Every time he dared to close his eyes, that agonizing image of you returnedâa cruel reminder of the violence he had once been capable of.
The violence that he was still capable of.Â
Felix had always recognized his nightmares as a manifestation of his deepest guilt. They had always been sinisterâdisturbing, and yet, this particular nightmare was unlike any he had faced before. Because he wasn't afraid for himself, he'd never been. But he was terrified for you. Of what he might be capable of doing to you.
Even if Felix knew deep down that he could never intentionally hurt you, there was that persistent voice in his head reminding him of every mistake he'd made, every violent impulse he'd ever had.
His fingers flexed on the motorcycle, feeling as though the handlebars would slip through his grasp at any moment. He squeezed until his knuckled turned white, trying to hold on to some semblance of control. Because Felix was acutely aware of his capacity to lose control. Giving in to that dormant beast lingering just below the surface.
As the nightmare replayed in his mind, Felix couldnât help but wonder if it had also been a consequence of what heâd said to you that night in the tavernâthat you would already be dead if he'd had things his way. Such a careless thing to say considering that, even if he hadnât known it then, his affection for you had existed in those early moments too.
With every jolt of the motorcycle, Felix fought the nausea that settled in his empty stomach. Caught somewhere between the past and the present, the sensation of your arms around his waist served as a physical reminder of how far he'd come since that conversation. How he'd transformed from someone potentially willing to end your life, to someone committed to protecting it at all costs.
Felix killed the engine and dismounted the bike, muscles rigid from hours of tension. Late afternoon now. Half a day had gone by when the group unanimously agreed that it was time for a break.
As he refueled the bike, its exhaust pipes still crackling with heat, he wondered how long he and Chan were going to ignore the diminishing weight of the fuel containers. But the thought was quickly drowned out by Minho and Changbinâbickering over the now unfolded map.
Felix tuned them out, making note of the way you lingered by his side. He sensed the silent inquiry in your eyes, seeking reassurance about his well-being after this morningâs ordeal. But now wasnât the place or the time to talk about the nightmare. It was still too heavy, too raw, and to be honest Felix wasnât sure if he would ever be able to find the words to articulate it all.Â
He didnât even know where to start.
So, despite the solace he found in the quiet strength you exuded, Felix distanced himself from your side. He sought out a flat rock, its cool surface soothing against the back of his neck as he reclined. The setting sun caressed his face, and if he had summoned the courage to close his eyes completely, he thought he might have been able to envision himself back on the rooftop. To the moment Chan had first revealed the plan for the raidâa memory bathed in similar sunlight, when the breeze had carried the scent of a world that felt unrecognizable now.
Felix allowed himself to wonder, only briefly, if he should long for the simplicity of that memory. At a time when he hadnât felt much of anything at all aside from his love for the seven boys around him. But even that, he had done his best to dull. The numbness had been a shield, but it was a defense he no longer seemed to possess. Because now, every gust of wind seemed to carry the whisper of your name. The moon, a constant observer of his fondest memories and reflections, couldn't even come close to the comfort he found in your embrace. Even the warmth of the sun on his skin could never compare to your touch. Feelings he couldnât begin to comprehend had taken place of that numbness, battling the darkness that had lingered for far too long.
With a slight tilt of his head, Felix cast a subtle glance in your direction. He found you seated next to Seungmin a short distance away, and he wondered whether you were truly managing the way youâd claimed you were last night. Maybe it was the weariness displayed in the lines of your face, the slight downturn of your lips, the way your shoulders always seemed to carry an invisible weightâthings that didn't escape his notice because he understood them all too well.Â
Because Felix was beginning to understand you too well, maybe.
After discovering your identity the night of the raid, Felix had done everything he could to convince himself that you were just the daughter of a monsterâa pawn in a cruel game. But despite his best efforts, he could never bring himself to see you that way. He'd failed miserably at hating you, he couldnât even dislike you, and what terrified him most was not just the acknowledgment of his potential to love you, but the possibility that maybe he always had. From the very beginning. From that fateful moment in the alley when your paths had crossed, and your lips had met, and youâd saved his life for the first time.
Of course, he hadnât known who you were then, heâd had no clue what you might be running from, but he saw the desire to escape it in your eyes. Almost leading Felix to believe that if he'd extended his hand and whispered for you to come with him that night, you would have said yes.
Somewhere nearby, the argument between Minho and Changbin dissipated, fizzling out under the weight of exhaustion or hunger, or the recent encounter with your father's guardsâundoubtedly still on everyone's minds.
Felix couldn't help the way his ears perked up when Seungmin filled the silence by engaging you in a conversation about archery, debating the finer points of how to hold a bow. Seungminâwhoâd always had a very particular knack for reading the group's dynamics. Whose trust in you was something that hadn't gone unnoticed by Felix, either.
As he immersed himself in the melody of your voice and the subtle accent woven into your speechâhow you pronounced words like Minho once had in those first few months after he'd joined the groupâFelix allowed his heavy eyes to drift shut.
Even if he'd always been skeptical of it, Felix suddenly found himself clinging to the hope that Chan so fervently believed inâthe fragile hope for a better world. And if it really did exist, then he would do anything in his power to make sure you would be there to see it.
He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had happenedâmaybe he would try to figure it out some day if he lived long enoughâbut all he knew for certain was that somewhere along the way, the mere thought of you experiencing harm had become more terrifying to Felix than any of the horrors that had marred his own existence.
And so, he resolved to protect you from the brutality of your world, from the looming threat of the war against your father, and, most importantly, from the darkness that still dwelled within himself.
With a grin, you held the bow aloft. âSee? It's all about the grip. If you don't hold it just right, your aim will be completely off."
Seungminâwho you'd quickly come to realize was never one to back down from a challengeâshook his head, streaks of chestnut in his hair catching the sunlight. Rising to his feet, he extended an arm.
âI get that youâve had official lessons, but youâre missing the point. It's all about intuition and feeling the shot,â he continued as you handed him the bow. âYou can have the perfect hold on it any day but if you don't connect with it on a deeper level, you'll never hit the mark.â He mimicked drawing an invisible arrow from the string to emphasize his point.
Intrigued by your banter, Changbin strolled over with a mischievous glint in his eyes. âI don't know, I think itâs more about the stance," with a nudge, he disrupted Seungmin's balance, causing him to stumble. Changbin reached for the bow, and a smile tugged at your lips as the two began to fight over it.
A gentle breeze swept over you, carrying with it the faintest hint of distant pine, and your attention was immediately drawn away.
A few strides to your left, Felix lay reclined with his hands resting comfortably behind his head. His eyes were closed, raven-dark locks absorbing the sunlight. To anyone who didn't know the circumstances, he would have appeared content. To anyone who didnât know Felix, he might have appeared relaxed, even.
Yet, you wondered what might be taking place beneath that calm exterior.
Felix had felt unusually distant since that morning. His glazed-over eyes seemed to wander endlessly, in every direction but to you. Something had claimed his thoughts, and you could only hope that whatever it was had nothing to do with the torture that had unfolded in his past.
You watched as he ran a hand through his hairâa habitual gesture for the boy with the freckles and the stars in his eyes. The boy with a narrative of scars on his back and a tapestry of secrets in his soul. Secrets you feared you wouldn't have enough time with him to uncover.
The muscles in his forearms flexed as he sat up, fingertips trailing across the stone beneath them. The memory of those fingers on your skin from the night before sent a tingle down your spine, igniting that familiar heat between your legs..
A small pebble came tumbling down the hillside behind you, landing gently on your outstretched hand. Startled, you glanced over your shoulder to find Minho and Jisung making their way back down the rocky incline. "Nothing as far as we can see," Minho reported.
The absence of your father's guards on the other side offered a momentary respite, but it was a fleeting moment of safety that you were well aware wouldn't last forever.
âNothing for now," Jisung added, meeting your eyes as if he had tuned into your thoughts.
"We should keep moving," Chan appeared at your side, taking in the surroundings. "The longer we stay in one place, the more vulnerable we become."
Sure..unless the path ahead leads to an even greater danger.
Unless your father was paranoid enough to figure out where you were headed.
If he'd sent guards after you on a more direct route, you wondered if they might make it to Miroh before you. The thought of them lying in wait in anticipation of your arrival stirred up a new, particularly unsettling, concern. But when Chan turned his focus to you, you responded with a firm nod, tucking away your fears to discuss with him later.
-
The days were waning, leaving you to realize that summer had quietly begun to slip away. It didnât take long for the sun to complete its descent below the jagged horizon, plunging the world into shadows once more.
The scattered rock formations took on menacing shapesâtheir outlines frequently obscured by passing clouds above. Under the veil of darkness, each turn of the wheels became a gamble, increasing the chances of veering off course or stumbling upon unforeseen obstacles.
Amidst the growing danger, Chan's voice cut through the rhythmic hum of the motorcycle as he called for Felix to slow down.
Felix, however, seemed determined to press forward. His muscles tensed, ignoring Chan's plea as the engine roared defiantly. And you had a feeling it wasn't just the desire to reach your destination that drove him, but a reluctance to stop and rest.
To sleep, perhaps.
"Felix,â you urged, leaning in, "it isnât safe.â
A sudden acceleration of the bike was his only response. It surged forward as if he were trying to outpace not just your words, but the night itself.
You squeezed his waist, a silent plea for him to listen. "Lixâ"
In a single, decisive motion, Felix abruptly yanked the motorcycle to the side of the rugged path. With wide eyes, you watched as he stepped down, his movements reflecting restless energy. As the dust settled, he deliberately avoided meeting your eyes, turning his focus to the rover as it pulled up beside you.
"I'll take first watch," he declared, boots crunching on loose rocks as he left your side.
Youâd intended to follow him but Hyunjin was quicker. He leaped down from the rover before itâd even slowed to a stop, darting ahead to catch up with Felix.
You watched as they approached the edge of a cliff that lie straight ahead from where you stood. A frown tugged at your lips as your mind went to the twin rings they wore.
I've known Felix a lot longer than you.
As you considered the unspoken dynamic between them, whatever the hell it might be, a shadow fell over the periphery of your vision.
Jisung slipped beside you, his eyes flitting from you to the two figures now seated at the edge of the cliff.
"I spoke with him earlier," you said, eyes tethered to the outline of Hyunjinâs back. "It didn't exactly go well."
"Sometimes Felix gets like thisâ"
"Not Felix."
"Oh.." Jisung sighed with understanding, following your gaze to Hyunjin. "Hyunjin is protective, especially when it comes to Felix. It's been a long time since someone new joined our group, and considering your.."
"My background.."
"Yeah..that," Jisung mumbled, raking a hand through his hair. âThere's history between those two, but it's mostly things that happened before I found my place in the group."
"When did you join the group, Ji?" you turned to face him, dragging your eyes away from whatever was unfolding at the cliff.
Jisung shrugged. "That is a story for another time," he said, flashing his signature grin. "Promise."
You surveyed him for a moment, sensing layers and layers of depth behind his carefree demeanor. His eyes held a narrative waiting to be told, but it was a chapter he wasn't yet ready to reveal. "I'm holding you to it," you replied, and Jisung's smile grew a little wider.
Devoid of any trees or significant cover, the wind howled through the surrounding space, sweeping up from below the cliff where Hyunjin and Felix remained. An exposed campsite meant that, to avoid the risk of drawing unwanted attention, there would be no warmth from a fire tonight. And so, the blankets were spread in a circle on the cold, uneven ground. Pulled close together for warmth.
You settled in, rummaging through your nearly empty backpack, picking at your nails, brushing the dust from your pants over and over againâanything you could to keep your eyes from straying back to the cliff.
Chan claimed the space to your right, handing over a portion of stale bread that was noticeably smaller than usualâa clear indication of your dwindling supplies. But you accepted with a grateful smile nonetheless, pushing down another concern to discuss with him later.
Too much later though, and you may need to start a list.
Unlike the night before, when adrenaline after the chase from your father's guards had fueled the sharing of memories, tonight carried something different. Animated exchanges had been replaced by contemplative silence as the boys seemed lost in their own thoughts behind heavy-lidded eyes. The exhaustion that had been building throughout the day had finally caught up with them, it seemed. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel it too.
Your head lifted a bit too eagerly to be discreet when the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. A spark of anticipation flickered within you, only to be extinguished as your eyes landed on Hyunjin.
Hyunjin settled down on Chan's other side, their words too hushed for you to catch the details. Slowly, their whispers melted away, a seamless transition from hushed dialogue to the ambiance of rustling blankets and the occasional creaking of the rover.
Your gaze wandered skyward where the stars blinked in and out of view. You watched them for a while, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to pick out constellations Jisoo had once taught you the names of. Names you had long forgotten, not that it mattered now. Tears pricked at your eyes at the thought of your former best friend, but you didnât let them fall.
Shifting on your side, you cast a glance at the solitary figure that remained unmoving at the cliff's edge. Moonlight painted his frame in pale shades of silver as he overlooked the expanse below.
The rational part of your mind whispered that you should let him be.
Chanâs body heat would keep you comfortable enough to fall asleep, no doubt about that. And to your other side, Jisung's familiar presence offered an added measure of comfort.
But it was your name Felix had called in his sleep that morning.Â
And your heart that had a tendency to rebel against the logic in your mind.
You sat up, mindful not to disturb the sleeping figures around you. The water canteen felt light in your hand as you retrieved it from your bag, quietly making your way to where Felix sat. His head turned in acknowledgment as you approached, and although his expression remained guarded, he shifted to make room for you on the beside him on the rocky outcrop.
It gets easier with time.Â
If this was easier than you didnât want to know what it had been like for him before.
âYou should rest. We're safe tonight,â you said through chattering teeth as the frigid earth seeped through the fabric of your clothes.
Daring a cautious glance over the edge of the cliff, the world seemed to disappear. Swallowed by a pitch-black void, the perilous drop was only discernible thanks to scattered dots of flickering light belowâtiny beacons of firelight.
Felix shifted, dangling his legs over the edge. âAny one of those fires down there could belong to them."
Them.
The mention of your father's guards stirred up that uneasy feeling in your stomach. Their pursuit would be relentless, safety tonight would never guarantee safety tomorrow. But as you looked to Felix, you knew there was more to it than that. Something had changed since that morning. The distance he'd kept, the guarded look in his eyesâit mirrored the same intensity that gripped him when he'd faced down the man from his past at Yellow Wood.
And it dawned on you that maybe he wasn't referring to your father's guards at all.
You extended a hand, offering him the canteen. "At least drink something if you're going to stay awake all night.â
Felix pressed the cool metal to his lips and took a long, necessary drink before handing it back. âThanks,â he said, fingers brushing across your own.
As the minutes stretched, the cadence of his breathing created a soothing backdrop. The heat from his body called out to you, a magnetic pull that made sleep even more inviting.
And the next time you opened your eyes, the world had shifted. Your head had found a resting place on his shoulder, your eyes having closed long before the conscious decision to sleep was made.
"You don't have to stay," Felix murmured, a subtle indication that he'd sensed you stir from the drowsy embrace of sleep. His fingers tugged at your jacket, pulling it snug around your neck to fend off the biting cold. "I'm fine, princess,â he added, making your heart flutter at the nickname. âI just don't want to close my eyes right now."
âDo you want to talk about it?â you asked quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder.
"Not really. It was just a dream," he said. But his voice carried a defensive edge, leaving no doubt that it was in fact not just a dream.
âWe don't have to..But I can tell its bothering you,â your brows raised in gentle invitation, urging him to share the burden.
Felix stilled before letting out a breath, a hint of frustration taking over the exhaustion in his eyes. "Why do you care?"Â
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question.
You thought of everything you'd been throughâthe stolen moments entangled within the danger and chaos, the intimacy you'd shared up to that point.
âI thought it was clear.." you replied, looking away. But as your words hung in the air, doubt crept in. Maybe it hadn't been clear to him that it wasn't only physical for you.
Had you even allowed yourself the chance to fully accept that?
"It's not that simple," he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the distant firelight below. He toyed with the rings adorning his hands, and you tried to ignore which one his fingers gravitated to first.
Vulnerability danced in his expression, and for a heartbeat, the desperate wish that life could indeed be that simple was palpable between you.
Felix reached up to claw through his hair, tugging at the strands. When his eyes finally returned to yours, you realized it wasn't frustration you had seen in them moments ago, but something akin to fear.Â
"Felix.."
And Felix wincedâhe winced at the sound of his name falling from your lips. A subtle movement that might have been imperceptible to most, but painfully evident to you.
âYou should go get some sleep,â he stated, jaw tensing with the effort of holding back words begging to be said. The quiet command held a touch of finality, causing a knot to form in your chest.
You took a steadying breath, the crisp night air stinging your lungs.
And maybe you shouldnât have, but you said, "I care because I see more than the darkness in you, Felix. Those moments from the past that you think define you, they don't. I know you don't see anything good in yourself, but I do."
You set the canteen down beside him with a resounding clang before rising to your feet. "I care because I see someone worth caring for," you sighed. And then, with a slow shake of your head, you cast a final glance over the vast expanse below before turning to walk away.
Had Felix not been broken a very long time ago, your words that night might have shattered him completely. He fought hard to keep his eyes open, determined to avoid the return of the nightmare, but he fought harder against the overwhelming urge to chase after you.
Too many silent hours stretched before him until the sun would rise. Too much time for Felix to wrestle with the echoes of your wordsâfor him to question exactly when he had begun to fall in love with you, and if it really was going to get you killed some day. Leaving him restless and tormented, alone beneath the sprawling canvas of a starlit sky.
The morning unfolded in a haze, draping the landscape in layers of fog that hung low and thick. Changbin had the map spread out on the hood of the rover, tracing the faded lines that marked the outskirts of District 5. "According to this,â he said, âwe should be nearing the border of District 4 soon.â
Beside you, Seungmin leaned forward to catch a glimpse for himself. "What do we know about District 4?" he asked.
Changbin disguised any tension in his shoulders with a casual shrug, and it struck you then that you might not be the only one unfamiliar with the outer districts.
Chan tossed an empty supply bag into the back of the rover. "As we go further, we don't stop unless absolutely necessary," he said. And maybe you would've asked him why, if your attention hadn't been drawn to Jeongin at his side. His slender fingers grasped at the frame of the vehicle, strained knuckles betraying his effort to conceal the pain as he noticeably favored his injured foot.
You walked around and dropped an armful of folded blankets into the vehicle, making a mental note to keep an eye on Jeongin.
While the group prepared to continue the journey, the silence between you and Felix pulled at your thoughts, too. Youâd hesitated for a moment before climbing onto the motorcycle behind him. His stoic expression, like always, did an exceptional job at masking whatever he was feeling.
Summoning a deep breath, you nudged the thoughts surrounding him to the edges of your mind. The urgency of outrunning the guards, reaching Miroh, an inevitable confrontation with your father some dayâthere were far more pressing concerns that demanded your focus.
And so, when the motorcycle roared to life you shifted your arms around Felix, intentionally loosening your hold.
If the freckled boy sensed the subtle change, he didn't let it show.
-
The moisture in the air hinted at an impending change.
It wasn't long before thick raindrops began to break free from low-hanging clouds. The motorcycle's wheels fought for traction, skidding on the slick terrain. Puddles formed in the lowest areas as the rain intensified, visibility deteriorating rapidly.
Raindrops pelted Felix's leather jacket as he lifted an arm to shield his eyes from the downpour. Casting a fleeting glance behind, you struggled to discern the faint outline of the rover.
Your head snapped forward again as the bike slipped, threatening to lose balance. With one hand, Felix firmly corrected the course of the motorcycle. His free hand reached out unexpectedly, and you felt the warmth of his touch as he intertwined his fingers with yours. He pulled one of your hands further around his waist, ensuring with subtle pressure that your hold around him was secure.
When he lifted his hand, you maintained the grip, fingers securely entwined.
The rain poured and poured, drenching you both. Yet, steady progress was made. You entered a narrow mountain pass, the landscape unfolding in glimpses as you pressed forward.
Steady progress was made, until the ground beneath you gave way without warningâsending the motorcycle into a sudden descent.
Even with his seasoned reflexes, Felix barely had enough time to react as it plunged downward. The air was stripped from your lungs, a dizzying mix of exhilaration and fear coursing through your veins. Your eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of wind, and you didn't open them again untilâwith a jarring thudâthe motorcycle reached the bottom of the incline.
The impact sent vibrations through your bones, mud spraying in a messy wave as Felix steadied the bike with a foot.
Rain-soaked strands of black hair clung to his forehead when he whipped around to face you, droplets streaming down his face. âShit are you alright?!â his voice cut through the thunderous pounding of your heart in your ears.
But you hardly registered his words at all.
Your focus was entirely captivated by what lay over his shoulder.
A vast expanse of towering evergreen trees stretched before you. Tall and imposing, they stood like sentinels guarding whatever secrets lie inside from the rest of the world. The branches swayed as if the forest itself was alive, pulsing with energy that seemed to beckon you closer.
You were almost certain that nothing like this had been marked on the map. And it was massive. A beast all its own.
With a scowl, Felix dismounted the bike, boots sinking into the damp soil beneath. As he approached the forest, you turned to survey the steep incline behind you.
The landscape extended high and wide, like a colossal step down in the earth, stretching as far as you could discern through the curtain of rain. As you studied it, the rover appeared at the top. A sudden apparition against the stormy backdrop, the glimmer of its headlights and the silhouettes of the boys appeared as faint outlines.
Blinking against the rain, you took a few steps over to the foot of the incline. As you strained to comprehend Minho and Chan's growing shouts, Felix materialized at your side. His voice joined the chorus in an attempt to shout back however, like them, his words were swallowed by the storm.
Abandoning their efforts to communicate with you and Felix, the boys leaned together to discuss something amongst themselves.
âWhat are they doing?â you questioned as the rover began to make a cautious retreat from the edge above.
Felix craned his neck, squinting against the rain. "Probably going to find shelter to wait out the storm, I saw a cave entrance not too far backâ"
A brilliant streak of lightning slashed across the sky, illuminating the entirety of your surroundings in a bluish-white glow. The accompanying crack of thunder tore through the air, the sheer force of the noise making your heart lurch in your chest.
Felix lowered his eyes, a softness creeping into his expression upon discovering your hand clasped tightly onto his sleeve. âIf theyâre going to wait it out, we'll do the same,â he said, taking your hand.
He led you across the tree line, to a colossal evergreen. Its base was substantial, the lowest branches forming a natural canopy like the skirt of a dressâlarge enough for both of you to slip underneath. His grip on your hand tightened briefly before pulling away. âIâll be right back. I need to get the bike."
Reluctantly, you let go of his hand. "Itâs just a little rain, princess,â he said softly before darting back out in the direction of the forestâs edge.
Beneath the the sheltering branches of the evergreen, you huddled closer to its trunk. Rough bark dug into your back as you pulled your knees up. Thunder rumbled overhead, shaking the earth beneath you.
You shut your eyesâcounting the seconds, the breaths.
You thought of a refreshing cave spring echoing with deep laughter, a motorcycle ride underneath the stars. You pictured freckles like constellations, dark eyes reflecting the night sky.
Relief flooded your veins when you looked up to find Felix slipping back beneath the branches.
His shoulder brushed against yours as he sat down beside you with a tired sigh. Stretching his legs out, shadows played on his face as he gazed up through the lattice of pine needles above. âYou really don't like storms, do you? You had the same look on your face that night in the tavern.âÂ
âIâm fine,â you protested, the words coming out sharper than you'd intended.
âSo fucking stubborn,â he grumbled under his breath before shrugging out of his jacket. Every flex of his muscles was accentuated by the wet fabric that clung to him.
Not that you'd been staring.
When he draped the jacket over your shoulders, the urge to protest simmered beneath your skin, a lingering effect of your earlier frustration with him. But it was warm, familiar, and for some reason, his scent was more comforting than you'd ever understand.
So, you said nothing.Â
Your bent knees found a resting place on his thigh. And beneath the heavy weight of his jacket, the thunder and lightning gradually began to lose their intimidating edge.Â
When you crossed your arms for added warmth, your fingers brushed against the handle of your motherâs knife. With a subtle flick, you pulled it out and tossed it into the ground. Your eyes traveled from the gleaming blade to the engravings on the hilt, the dried blood in the crevices. And as you watched the rain wash it away, you were reminded that your father's guards weren't the only thing Felix was running from.
There was a different kind of sinister out thereâa malevolence engraved into the scars you'd felt along his back. You'd wielded the knife to free him from one of them, but you weren't naive enough to think that there weren't more out there.Â
The mere thought of how many might be hunting him at that very moment sent a spark of something searing up your spine.
Not fear, or sadness, but anger. A raw, primal hatred that surpassed even the disdain you felt for your own father.
âKeep clenching your jaw like that and your teeth are going to shatter,â his deep voice pulled you back from your thoughts. One of his hands found a resting place on your knee. âWhatâre you thinking about?â Another ominous rumble echoed from somewhere above, and he added, âAside from the big scary thunder."
You rolled your eyes, sorting through the myriad of thoughts in your head.
Having to relive what you've been through in nightmares.
What I said to you last night.
What we did the night before.
You took a deliberate breath, the scent of rain and earth filling your lungs, and nudged his shoulder with yours. âYou first.âÂ
His head, still resting against the tree, tilted to the side. The way he met your eyes asked, do you really want to know?
When you refused to look away, he sighed. There was a flicker of hesitation in his expression, letting you know he was on the verge of revealing something deeply personal.
âMost of the time," he began, "my memories feel like someone elseâs," his throat moved, swallowing down the weight of those memories.
"But there are moments where it all comes back."
Moments.Â
Moments, as in those nightmares.
Your next thought slipped past your lips, spurred by genuine concern. âLix, are you okay? Not just after yesterday morning but..I know you've been through a lot, and..â
"I'm fine, princess," Felix managed a small smile that didnât quite reach his eyes. "If you want to know the truth, in a strange way Iâm thankful for the nightmares.â
Because I feel like I deserve them.Â
The unspoken words were written all over his face.Â
You noticed the subtle tremor in his fingers as they began to tap against your knee. You adjusted your position so that you could look. at him. Really look at him.
His dark eyes, pools of endless regret, met yours. And in them you found a well of profound sadness, a lingering ache from wounds that would probably never fully heal.
A delicate touch trailed from his thumb as he brought it up to caress your bottom lip, gently drawing it back. Your breath hitched in response to the intimate contact. A sigh escaped him as he contemplated..something. And then his thumb retreated, leaving behind a tingling trail of longing in its wake.Â
"You wouldn't look at me like that, if you knew everything.â
You frowned at his words, at the sudden shift in conversation and the evident self-loathing in his tone.
Before you could come up with a response, his head crashed back against the tree. âWhen I asked why you care last night, it's because you shouldnât," he said.
"What do you mean?â
âI mean you shouldn't be worrying about me or my nightmares or any of the shit I carry with me," he answered immediately. "There is so much you don't know about the way I've lived, the things I've done..I am not who you think I am."Â
âThen help me understand,â you urged.
But there was a flicker of something in his expression that suggested he didnât believe he was worth your understanding.
âYou canât,â Felix emphasized. A distant look clouded his eyes, a flash of whatever it was that had crossed his features after the nightmare seemed to resurface. âYou grew up with servants to meet your needs while the rest of us bled for every scrap of food and warmth. You canât understand, y/n. And even if you could, it won't change who I am or what I've done. The blood on my hands will never wash away.âÂ
For a moment, the only sound was the relentless percussion of rain on the forest floor. Then, you felt something inside you snap. The princess role, the sheltered naivety that had plagued your entire existenceâthe pressure from pushing it all down was suddenly released under the weight of his words.Â
âIs that all you see when you look at me?" your voice was sharp, edged with years of pent-up frustration. "Just a sheltered princess? Do you think that was my choice? You think Iâve never felt pain, Felix? That I havenât seen things that will haunt me for the rest of my life?â
You shifted, the jacket slipping from your shoulders and dropping to the mud. âAnd who are you to decide what I can or cannot understand? You of all people should know that there is more to someone than the history they carry.â
Ignoring the bewilderment in his expression, you stood and pushed through the dense branches, pine needles scratching across your face as you stepped into the open forest. Cool droplets splashed across your skin, mingling with the heat that had begun to fill your veins. Your vision blurred with rain and tears that threatened to spill overâthe culmination of years spent hidden away, a lifetime of being taught not to care about anything finally starting to unravel.
Footsteps splashed behind you. âWaitâIâm sorry,â Felix pleaded, his hand finding your shoulder with firm, gentle strength. âI didnât mean to belittle what youâve been though," he said, stepping in front of you.
He blinked against the falling rain, freckles glistening. "Please, y/n. I see your strength and I see how much weâI need you. And that terrifies me more than anything becauseââ
He caught himself, choking on the words. The voice in his head told him to let you walk away, just like he had done last night. But Felix was so goddamn tired of acting indifferent to everything around him. Whether it was the lingering tension between him and Hyunjin, the fact that the nightmares had been devouring him for years, or the way he tried to ignore how losing you would obliterate whatever small part of himself he thought might actually be worth something.
He wasn't tired, he was fucking exhausted. And the fatigue of pretending that he wasn't human was killing him.
Maybe it had been for a very, very long time.
And maybe that is why Felix found himself unable to bear it any longer. The accumulation of secrets, and pretense, and hidden emotions, it pushed and it pressed against his chest until it hurt. And it made him want to liveâto experience the complete depths of life that he had been depriving himself of for as long as he could remember.
âWhen I said you were my weakness, princess. I meant it," he confessed, taking a subtle step closer. "There are very bad people chasing me, and they always catch up. They will again, and I canât stand the thought of anything happening to you because of me. The things they will do to you if they find out what you mean to me," he took a steadying breath, "I'm only trying to protect you, because what I feel for you is..â
His throat bobbed, preparing to continue. But before he could, you lifted a finger and gently pressed it against his lips.Â
With a feather light touch, you traced a path from his lips to his cheek, to his temple and down his jawline. You stopped to caress the sensitive skin on his neck, as if trying to erase the memories burned there beneath your fingertips.Â
You felt his warmth, the rapid beat of his pulse.
And you werenât entirely sure your own heart was beating when you leaned forward to connect your lips with his.
His breath caught, as if not quite expecting it. He kissed you back, applying a tender pressure against your lips before abruptly pulling away. âIf you knew what I am capable ofâ"
âI donât care what you have done, Felix,â you interrupted, "I. Donât. Care," you drowned his protests in another kiss, and his lips tasted like rain and longing and everything you were afraid to lose. "I want you, I want every part of you. And if you choose to share your past with me, although I might not fully comprehend it, it wonât change that."
You pulled back and held his gaze. "I am not afraid of you. Pushing me away won't protect me, and I'm not asking you to change, Felix, but I need you to see me for who I am now. Not the person I was expected to be in that palace. I was so broken and alone, and I don't think I even realized it until I met you. And I don't know who I am yet, but I am figuring it out because of youâbecause of all of you. So don't take that away from me by telling me that I shouldn't care."
As your words settled in the space between you, you decided that Felix had never looked more human to you than he did in that moment.
A lone droplet slid down his cheek, and when you leaned in to kiss it away, the taste of salt lingered on your lips. Revealing something far more profound.
Before you could react, his hands slid to your waist, warm and possessive as his lips claimed yours. He guided you until your back collided with the bare trunk of a dying tree. "I'm sorry," he whispered, thick accent sending shivers down your spine. "I'm not good at things like this, but I care about you, too. Too much, sweetheart. More than I should." The sincerity in his voice resonated with you. He meant the wordsâtruly meant them. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe. You know that, right?" he added, thumb brushing your cheek.
And you did. You'd felt it in his touch, when he kissed you, the way he looked at you. You nodded, tracing the contours of his face, "Iâm yours, Lix."
The words came out quicker than you could register, but you didn't regret them.
Maybe it made you fucking selfish, to crave losing yourself in him when the entire world was perched upon your shoulders, but you didn't regret them.
"You were always mine," Felix breathed, "before we met, before all of this, you were never their princess," he leaned in, pressing his lips to your forehead. "You were always mine.â
And then, Felix kissed you like he was making up for all of the wasted time before youâd metâfor all of the time you would lose when fate inevitably ripped you apart. He kissed you like he had been chasing you through every life before this one, and would follow through every one after.
When he ground his hips against yours, the intensity of his desire was evident in the way he murmured your name. A low, rumbling growl escaped his throat, making you acutely aware of the silence around you. The rain had ceased, leaving only the sounds of your heavy breathing and the occasional rustle of branches above.
When you shifted to grant his wandering hands access to your backside, his boot slipped in the mud. Your lips curved into a smile against his as you realized the absurdity of the situationâhow ridiculous you must look shivering and drenched in rainwater, wrapped up in each other like this.
"Smooth," you teased.
Felix responded with a subtle shake of his head, a shy smile playing on his lips. Closing his eyes, he groaned softly and pressed his forehead against yours. "I hate this," he said.
You pulled back, your puzzled expression prompting a low chuckle from him.
"I just wish there was somewhere we could go," he clarified, "somewhere warm and dry," he swiped the lingering raindrops from your cheeks.
"Somewhere we could be alone," you added, lifting your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. "Just us."
Felix hummed in agreement. The desire was reflected in his eyes, a shared longing that resonated between you. But the idea of a place where the two of you could exist peacefully, away from the unforgiving grasp of reality, felt like an elusive fantasy that might always be just out of reach.
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, Felix's expression gave way to a surge of profound intensity.
"Some day," he dropped his voice, "When all of this is over, I'm going to carry you back into that palace." His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing a heated path down. "I'm going to take my time with you, princess," he nipped at the sensitive skin on your neck, causing your core to flutter with anticipation. "And then," he whispered, "I'm going to lay the world at your feet."
You held your breath as he brought one of your hands to his chest, spreading your fingers out over his beating heart. "Its yours," he said, "and I don't care what you do with it."
With your palm still pressed against his heart, a quiet realization rippled through your mind.
You might love him.
You might be a fool to think there was any part of you that didn't love Felix. And maybe you were a coward, too. Too hesitant to say the three little words hovering on your tongue, for fear that you might become addicted to how it would feel to hear them back.
Your eyes widened as another realization crossed your mindâthe understanding that, in some way, loving Felix might always have been inevitable.
And you wondered if he had known it long before you.
Don't let me love you.
You hesitated, the weight of the promise casting a shadow.
But when Felix leaned in to capture your lips with his, the pull between you was too strong to resist. Something cosmic, two souls irresistibly entwined. And you only hoped he could decipher the silent declaration of your emotions lingering in the spaces between each breath.
The kiss deepened into something desperate. Heated and sensual as your tongues collided. A soft, needy sound escaped your throat when he slipped his hands underneath your shirt, cold rings making you shudder. Your arms tugged around his neck, urging him to press his body closer.
Curling your fingers in his hair, you pulled firmly, because you knew how much he liked it.
"Are you trying to get me to fuck you in the middle of this forest?" he said, stifling a groan when you repeated the action.
You laughedâa small, lighthearted chuckle against his lips. "A forest? Never. I prefer caves, actually."
He let out an amused scoff. "Is that so? I'd think someone of such high status like yourself would be into more sophisticated places..like closets."
Your mouth fell open in mock astonishment, a smile playing on your lips as you remembered that night at Clé. "What the hell were we thinking?"
"I know what I was thinking," he responded, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. "I was thinking that you're fucking irresistible," his breath against your ear made your entire body heat up. âThat every time I look at you, I want you wrapped around my cock. That when we're with the guys and one of them looks at your ass," he moved his hands around to give a firm squeeze to your backside. âOr your tits," he brought his hands up to grope at your breasts, making you moan. âI want to fuck your pretty pussy in front of them until you're leaking with my cum."
A chill traveled throughout your entire body, covering your skin in goosebumps.
"Then why don't you?â you purred, âfill me up with your cum, I mean," you clarified. Although something about the idea of Felix taking you while the rest of the boy watched stirred up something in your core that youâd never felt before.
âYou know why,â he groaned. His adam's apple bobbed as your hands traced along his belt, fingers grazing the skin just inside his waistband.
One of your hands slowly slid down, and you weren't surprised at all to find his already hardened cock pulsing through his pants. The hiss he let out turned to a weak groan when you tightened your grip. And god there was nothing you wouldn't have given to be alone with him and a fucking bed. You needed to taste him, to feel his heavy length on your tongue, stuffed inside your aching cunt.
He started rocking his hips into you slowly, pressing your back further into the tree. "Princess," he dragged out the word against your neck, sucking at the skin. You whimpered in response, head falling against the tree."Do something for me?" he asked.
"Anything," you managed to say.
"Jump."
And you did. Without hesitation you jumped into his arms, locking your ankles around his waist. Felix's eyes sparkled as he turned, surveying the distance between the two of you and the tree you'd taken shelter underneath earlier.
He began to stepâbut not toward the tree. No, toward the motorcycle beside it.
He lowered you down gently in front of the handlebars before putting his hands on them, closing you in. You recognized the glazed over look in his eyes, and you thought it might be your favorite look of his.
You knew what it meant, and you needed him too.
When your lips reconnected it was fervent. Wild, and raw, and vulnerable. His hand found its way to your neck, making your pussy throb when he lightly squeezed. And your moans mixed when his crotch rubbed against yours, pushing your ass against the front of the motorcycle.
Felix groaned deeply, trying to focus on you and not the growing throb in his dick when you grabbed his hand and shoved it to that needy spot between your legs.
"Felix," you whined, bucking your hips into his touch, "fuck me, please. I don't care where we are, just fuck me."
There was nothing Felix wouldn't have given for the chance to take his time with you. To have the luxury of time without interruption, where the whole entire world would simply fuck off for a few blissful hours. Days, maybe.
But time had never been very kind to Felix. So, without wasting any more of it, he helped you shove down your pants and underwear.
And then, his knees buckled.
He hit the ground and immediately began kissing your inner thighs, moving his face closer and closer to your cunt. And it was when he tilted his head to the side, stopping to look up at you, that you knew you were fucked. The pleasure was already building in your lower abdomen and he hadn't even put his mouth on your pussy yet.
Your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a shaky breath when his tongue finally met your folds, licking a long stripe through them. Felix brought one of your hands to his hair, and you were instantly tangling your fingers in the damp locks. He swiped his tongue in a jagged pattern, brushing his nose against your clit because likes the way it makes you squirm.
He mumbled to himself, something about how good you tasted, before his puffy lips latched on to your clit. You were on the verge of tears, hips jerking when he started sucking on the bundle of nerves, flicking at it with his tongue.
You tightened your grip on his hair, shoving his face against your pussy as your other hand reached for the handlebars behind you, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.
He brought his fingers up and plunged them inside of you with ease, using them to scissor you open as he made out with your cunt.
âC-close,â you stuttered as his tongue dipped into your hole.
He looked up, and the sight of him on his knees with your arousal glistening on his face, was more than enough to send you over the edge.
Your thighs closed around his head, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure ripped through you. You moaned his name, pussy throbbing and clenching around his fingers as you came.
Felix smirked against your core, slowing his pace to help you work through the orgasm.
And then, before you'd even had the chance to open your eyes, you were being flipped around and bent over the handlebars. Felix pressed the palm of his hand on your lower back, forcing your body to lean over it further.
Your eyes widened, mouth watering when you heard the clink of his belt unbuckling.
"Gonna take you like this,â he growled, the words rumbling out from his chest. And you were suddenly very thankful for the bike, because it was the only thing keeping you upright.
Felix shoved his pants down, just enough to reach for his thick cock. "Feel what you do to me baby?" He tapped it against your ass a few times before using the tip to spread your folds, gathering your slick.
"Felix," you gasped, swallowing hard. "Don't be gentle."
"Desperate little slut," he cooed, aligning himself with your dripping entrance. "My desperate little slut. Always so good for me, so wet and ready to take my cock like you were made for it."
Without warning, he slammed into you. The full length of him, so heavy and solid and filling you up so well, had your eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
"Oh," you gasped when he landed a harsh smack to your ass.
"Feels good, huh?" Felix smirked, chuckling lowly when you began to vigorously nod your head in response.
"Move, Lix," you cried, "m-move, please move."
And although he'd like to make you beg just a little bit more, Felix physically couldn't hold back any longer. He grunted as he set a steady rhythm. "Pussy's so good, fucking sucking me in baby," he moaned, pushing you further over the handlebars. He picked up the pace when you told him to, burying his face into your neck and sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin.
You emitted a broken, strangled moan when he tugged your head back by the roots of your hair, brain growing foggy with every drag of his cock along your walls. He drilled into you until his thrusts turned sloppy and irregular. When you started fucking yourself back on his dick, his hips trembled, stuttering into yours.
"Princess," he panted, breath hot against your neck, slowing his pace to try and keep himself from spilling inside of you. And Felix thought it might just be the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, when you start to beg for his cum. Whimpering incoherently about how badly you needed him to fill you up with his seed.
"Felix," you cried, feeling your second orgasm building, "feels so fucking good, keep going, keep going, I'm g-gonnaâ" you whimpered, inhaling sharply as you cum again, tears pricking at your eyes as you cream on his cock.
Felix bit his lip as your walls fluttered around him. His deep moans turned into pretty high-pitched sounds. And he was cursing, words youâd never even heard before, when his hips suddenly stilled.
"Ah, fuckâ" he shuddered when he started to spill inside of you. He hurriedly pulled out, wrapping his hand around his pulsating length as he finished in his palm.
When you were coherent and able to feel your limbs again, you turned to look at him.
Felix was panting, chest heaving, as he came down from his own high. His hand was covered in his own sticky release. And you weren't quite sure if it was leftover rain or beads of sweat rolling down his face, but he was beautiful. Lips parted, dark eyes blown wide with pleasure.
He looked up, meeting your gaze with a tired half smile, and it broke something within you.
In that split second, you recognized that you might love him even more than you'd thought. And it was a feeling tainted with a subtle undercurrent of fearâthe metaphorical nail in a shared coffin.
Because you're pretty sure it is going to get both of you killed some day.
Imprinted on your skin, Felix's scent mixed seamlessly with the clean breeze that enveloped you upon stepping out from beneath the treesâhis warmth a comforting presence at your back.
Something caught your eye, bringing your attention to the top of the incline where the rover had returned, its metallic exterior gleaming.
As you surveyed the narrow drop, a daunting realization began to take hold. The slope stretched on in either direction, leaving no choice but for the boys to make their own descent if you were to reunite.
While you contemplated whether or not the angle might be gradual enough to allow for a cautious descent, Chan's voice rang out from above. âStay back! We'll come to you!"
Felix cast a worried glance up and down the slope. "It's too steep," his lips tightened into a thin line as the tires inched closer to the edge above.
Charged, electrifying silence filled the air, heightening every detail of your surroundingsâthe engine's low hum, the rhythmic drip drip drip of water from the branches at your back.
"Maybe they should.." you hesitated, searching for an alternative that didn't exist. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because your voice was drowned out by the screeching protests of metal against rock.
With a sudden lurch, the rover initiated its descent.
The first tentative movements sent a cascade of loose rocks tumbling down the slope. The vehicle jerked and swayed in tandem with Chan's adjustments to the wheel, suspension audibly groaning underneath the strain.
Just when it seemed it might conquer the descent unscathed, the air was shattered by a stark crunch as one of the headlights collided with a protruding rock.
The impact sent shockwaves throughout the vehicle, a collective gasp escaping the group as Chan lost control.
In a frantic sequence of events, Minho leaned over, grappling with the wheel to help Chan regain traction. Changbin shot an arm out to grip the open frame, and Jisung buried his head in his hands.
Felix took a shuffling step forward, propelled by instinct to help the boys. Your fingers wrapped around his arm, yanking him back as the rover slammed against solid ground at the bottom of the incline.
The collision resonated through the air, leaving each of you speechless.
Jisung's wide eyes met yours, peering up from beneath the curtain of hair that had fallen into his face at the impact. A disbelieving smile fell across his lips, as if the absurdity of the situation had struck him in that moment. And you couldn't help but return the smile, shaking your head in relief as you acknowledged the collective insanity that had become your reality.
Chan's shoulders slumped and he bowed his head, taking a moment to collect himself. A mere ten seconds passed before he straightened his posture. Stepping down from the vehicle, he crossed his arms over his chest, muttering a curse as his eyes narrowed to the broken headlight.
The rest of the boys disembarked following Chan. Changbin pulled the map from his jacket, taking note of its condition before handing it over to him, and the group gathered around their leader in anticipation.
Chan's brow furrowed in concentration. A moment of disbelief crossed his features before he began to shake his head. "This entire forest isn't even on the map," his eyes lifted to sweep across the endless expanse of trees.
An exchange of looks rippled through the group as you waited for his next words.
"We can waste fuel trying to get around it,â he finally offered, "Or..." his gaze returned to the map.
âOr,â Minho interjected, catching everyone's attention, "we go through it."
The simplicity of his statement held a sense of something boldâa willingness to face the unknown head-on.
The forest did represent the unknown..But it had to end eventually. The fuel was dwindling, every one of you knew it, and wasting it in an attempt to find a way around the forest could be just as dangerous as navigating straight into its heart.
A decision loomed, demanding a choice that balanced the unknown with the practical constraints you faced.
Chan looked to Felix, seeking guidance in the unspoken language they shared. Felix, in turn, redirected his gaze to Hyunjin. The exchange unfolded like a ritual, a pattern the three of them had followed countless times before.
Silent affirmation in the form of a single nod from Felix was all it took for Chan to make the decision. âWe go through," he declared.
Jisung cleared his throat, placing a hand on the back of his neck. âIt canât be any worse than what weâve been through so far, right?â
His attempt at optimism, although appreciated for its intent, was quickly overshadowed by the ominous presence of the trees that loomed behind you.
Changbin squared his shoulders, cocking the heavy weapon in his arms. "Too late to turn back now," he caught your eye, and you nodded in silent agreement along with the rest, his voice echoing endlessly in your mind.
Too late to turn back now.
-
The forest held an ancient energy, a guardian of untold history. The growl of the engines harmonized as they wove cautiously between trees with an undercurrent of something otherworldly, something wild. Â
The further the group pressed on, the more it triggered an unexpected wave of discomfort in Felix. His chest tightened as vast horizon was replaced by the suffocating confinement of dense foliage. It brought to light an aspect of himself that he hadn't consciously acknowledged beforeâhow deeply he had come to rely on the open sky and the sense of freedom it provided.
As the familiar feeling of being hunted settled in his bones, his eyes darted anxiously back and forth, scanning for shadows that danced in patterns at the edges of his vision. The words he'd confessed to you about who was chasing him echoed in his thoughts, and he half-expected their figures to materialize from the shadows at any momentâ
No.
They couldn't have followed the nine of you out here.
The journey, the logistical challenges it would've taken to track your path through the districts..Not to mention that your group wouldâve been long gone by the time they'd realized the fate of the man they'd sent after him at Yellow Woodâthe man you'd killed to protect him.
The man whose name was enough to elicit a visceral response from Felix, the scars on his back tingling with every syllable as it resonated through his mind.
"They couldn't have," he muttered under his breath. They couldn't have followed you. They couldn't have.
But what ifâ
"Felix!" your shout pierced his thoughts, snapping his focus back to the path in front of the motorcycle.
Shit.
The wheels jerked violently as he veered to avoid a large ditch filled with rainwater and mud. The bike danced on the edge of disaster, narrowly avoiding the hidden hazard.
Felixâs eyes widened in realization as he twisted around. âChan, watch out!â his voice boomed, echoing through the trees, but the warning was futile.
The rover was following far too closely behind.
It's front end plunged first, followed by a moment of suspense before the back wheels followed suitâthe mud greedily swallowing them whole.
Despite the churning tires, the vehicle was forced into an abrupt halt. A chorus of frustrated exclamations filled the air, Chan's curses cutting through the loudest as he slammed his hands on the steering wheel in defeat.
You and Felix quickly abandoned the motorcycle, hands pressing onto the muddied surface of the rover. The rest of the boys, excluding Chan and Jeongin, joined you in a synchronized effort to push it out.
Muscles strained, boots sank into the earth, the wheels budged slightly, but despite your collective strength..
Nothing.
Chan unleashed his building frustration by forcefully slamming his foot on the gas pedal once more. The engine responded with a thunderous roarâthick clumps of mud scattering in every direction from the tires, still locked in a futile struggle.
"Chan, stop!" Minho called out, covering his eyes as he stepped back.
Thick sludge splattered across your clothes, adhering to every fiber. You rubbed your eyes to wipe it from your face, and when your vision cleared you realized that the situation had transcended beyond mere inconvenience.
The fading daylight had begun to cast eerie shadows around you. The gravity of your predicament sank inâhow utterly alone you were, and it was the first time you thought that might be a bad thing.
Jeongin, confined to the vehicle due to his injured foot, swiveled around to observe the group. He put a hand over his mouth to conceal the sound that escaped his lips. However, what began as a tentative giggle soon evolved, bubbling up from the depths of his chest into hearty laughter. "You guys look awful,â he mused, dimples on full display.
The group exchanged glances, surveying their disheveled appearances.
Hyunjin, in particular, appeared thoroughly offended by his ruined clothing. His disgusted expression only fueled the laughter that had begun to grow around you.
Seungmin protested as Changbin (forcefully) pulled him into a hug, smearing even more mud onto his clothes.
And beside you, Felix's perfect face was seemingly untouched by the mess that adorned the rest of him. It prompted you to swipe some of the mud from your cheek and transfer it to his. The act elicited a surprised, but amused reaction from the freckled boy as the corners of his mouth twitched, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of appreciation for the unexpected playfulness.
Even Chan couldn't stifle a small chuckle as he stole a glance at the group through the rearview mirror.
Surrounded by the laughter of those you had slowly come to trust, you were reminded of what had brought you there in the first placeâwhy it was so important to dismantle your father's oppressive regime for good.
Despite the encroaching night, darkness had yet to fully envelop the surroundings. There was still daylight left. One more challenge was added to the list of those you faced, but there was something about the boys and their resilience that instilled a small sense of hope in you. Making you feel as if their collective strength might just see you through the uncertainties ahead.
And if not, well it was far too late to turn back now.
With the ground unsuitable for spreading blankets, the process of setting camp mainly involved finding patches of drier ground to rest.
You observed the deliberate effort each of the boys made to avoid peering at the rover, the eyesore that it was. Chan was the only one who hadn't left its side, his mind undoubtedly concocting some kind of plan to free it come morning. âHopefullyâ, he said to no one in particular as he kicked one of the tires, âweâll be able to get it out after the mud dries.â
Your fingers fiddled with the laces of your boots, tying them over and over again to divert them from scratching at the drying mud on your skin. With each of you reluctant to waste your precious water supply on a mere rinse, you held on to the possibility that tomorrow's journey might lead you to a stream.
A yearning for the refreshing waters of the cave spring developed within you, intensifying with each passing moment. But it wasn't just the longing for cleanliness that fueled your desire to be back there.
Your eyes darted to Felix, crouched down beside you. Absorbed in concentration, his tongue habitually poked out the side of his mouth as he worked alongside Changbin to start a fire. His dark hair was up, a few strands escaping the confines of the tie to delicately frame his face.
You shook your head, refocusing your on Jeongin seated against a log at the edge of the clearing.
Felix glanced up when you touched his arm gently. His eyes followed your movement as you stood, the soft crunch of leaves beneath your boots resonating in the quiet surroundings.
The mossy surface of the log pressed against your back as you lowered yourself down next to Jeongin. "How're you holding up?" you asked, eyes trailing back to Felix as he returned to work on the fire.
"Could be worse," Jeongin replied softly. You pursed your lips, a moment of silence passing between you before he spoke again. "Can I be honest?"
"Of course," you said, inviting him to share his thoughts.
His fists clenched, fingers digging into the soggy grass beneath.
"Please don't tell the others," he began, quieting his voice. "But if we can't get it out," he gestured toward the rover, "I'm worried about slowing everyone down. I just don't want to be a burden if we have to continue on foot, you know?"
"Jeongin you are not a burden," you were quick to reply, "and nobody is leaving you behind. Whatever happens, we'll find a way to get to Miroh. All of us."
When he failed to respond, you reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. You turned to meet his eyes, and your stomach dropped.
A film of sweat covered his forehead. His complexion had taken on an unsettling pallor, and you guessed that if you were to press your hand to his forehead, it would be burning hot despite the chill in the air.
You fought to maintain a reassuring smile as your gaze swept across the clearing, landing on Minho. He was engrossed in the meticulous task of inspecting and wiping down the remaining firearms with Jisung.
With silent intensity, you begged him to look up.
The air seemed to still as you waited, sounds of the forest fading. When Minho finally raised his eyes to meet your own, the unspoken plea in your expression was clear.
With quick, fluid movement, he excused himself and made his way over where to you and Jeongin sat.
Minho knelt down in front of Jeongin, breaking the tension with small talk as he carefully unlaced his boot. He gently pulled back the bandages to assess the strain on the wound, and despite the stitches holding together well, the surrounding skin displayed signs of inflammation.
Amidst your focus, a sudden grunt of frustration sliced through the air.
Your eyes followed the source of the disturbance to Changbin and Felix. The duo was still locked in a battle with the damp leaves and twigs that refused to igniteâeach failed attempt only deepening their shared frustration as the daylight waned.
You stole one more quick glance at Jeonginâs food before rising to your feet. âWe need to find dry wood,â you announced.
But you were immediately caught off guard when the deep, resonant timbre of Felix's voice intertwined with Minho's softer tone as they both volunteered to accompany you.
The unexpectedness of Minho's offer left even Hyunjin standing motionless with raised eyebrows across the clearing.
Felix cleared his throat, maintaining his crouched position next to Changbin. A hesitant glance unfolded between him and Minho before he muttered, âYeah..you two go.â
Minho got to his feet, seemingly unbothered by the reaction he'd caused. Stepping up to your side, he gestured to the forest behind you. "We're losing daylight."
Obviously.
As he strode past you, heading for the trees, you briefly glanced back to the others.
Felix had already returned to the task of trying to coax a spark from the wet kindling. Chan had found his way around the back of the roverânow absorbed in taking inventory of your remaining supplies. Jisung gave you a meaningful look, motioning with his eyes for you to catch up to Minho..
And so, with a determined breath and nothing to lose, you followed the boy from District 9 into the encroaching twilight.
-
It was as if even the forest held its breath, as if it were sentient and fully aware of the undercurrents of tension between you and Minho.
Silence draped between you, thick and uncomfortable, as Minho guided the way. You glared at the back of his head, making note of the distinctive shade of his hairâgray or perhaps a faded light blue, with grown out roots revealing the natural color underneath.
In District 9, it wasn't uncommon for residents to dye their hair various shadesâa symbol of status due to the expense of such indulgences. The gradient of Minho's hair made you wonder just how long he had been away from his home district.
Your home district.
As you considered the shared connection between the two of you, Minho broke the silence. âHis foot, its..âÂ
"I know," you replied.
"Infections can spread fast, especially out here.â
âI know.â
Minho sighed in annoyance, as if holding a conversation with you was some sort of burden. âI didnât want to discuss it with the others,â he snapped.
And it dawned on you that it wasn't the burden of talking with you, but rather the responsibility of his concern for Jeongin that strained his expression. He didnât want to discuss it with the others because he didnât want to worry the others. Choosing to confide in you instead.
âWhat can we do?â you asked softly, although the answer was already clear.
âNot much,â Minho confirmed, âstart a fire, boil water to sterilize it with, and..âÂ
"Wait," you breathed, without missing the way he tensed at the word.
Cleaning Jeongin's wound would be a temporary measure. It wouldn't heal the infection, but it might prevent it from worsening too quickly. Which would give you the time you needed until you got to Miroh where there might be medical supplies. Antibiotics, if you were lucky.
And if not..
âLook," your eyes caught on a fallen tree with branches that appeared drier than the rest. Relief, albeit a small thread of it, weaved through your senses. You pointed to it and began to cross the distance, Minho falling into step beside you.
Together, you began to break off the dead branches. The brittle material snapped easily underneath your grip, the silence interrupted only by the sharp cracking of wood as you worked. But your fingers stilled when you caught sight of that thin bracelet adorning Minhoâs wrist. The trinket glimmered softly in the fading light. Its delicate beauty contrasted sharply with your surroundings, reminding you you once again of the life you had left behindâthe privileges and sorrows intertwined in your past.
You studied the intricate design and elegance of that gold piece..so out of place.
Why wear it out here, where its value could mean a death sentence?
Lost in the depths of your thoughts, you didn't notice the pause in Minho's own movement. His fingers wrapped around a branch while his gaze bore into you, even as yours remained fixed on the bracelet.
In that moment, a daring impulse seized you. Screw it, you thought. The seething hatred you held for District 9 and the memories it carried ran deep, yet a peculiar sense of comfort washed over you in the knowledge that Minho might understand in a way that the others couldnât.
For the briefest instant, you allowed yourself to wonder if perhaps Minho shared the same longing for someone who understood.
Screw it.
âIf I hadnât already known you were from District 9,â you started, âthat would confirm it.â You brought your eyes from the bracelet to meet his gaze as you resumed your work, snapping another branch.
Minhoâs own eyes tinged with something darker than nostalgia as he let out a dry chuckle. âThere's no sob story to it, if thats what youâre wondering. No lost loved one, no tragic incident. It's just a piece of metal.â His tone suggested a desire to seal off the conversation, end it there. But your intuition sensed the unspoken pain behind his words.
âIf it doesnât have any meaning,â you pressed, âthen why wear it? Isn't it dangerous? Valuable things like that..Iâm sure people would kill for them out here.â
Minhoâs eyes flitted away, as if trying to decide whether or not to continue. âIt did belong to my mother,â he admitted, âbut I donât wear it for her. She was a cruel women and she probably still is. I have no love for her memory."
His gaze returned to yours, firm and resolute. âI wear it because it reminds me of why I left.â
Minhoâs sudden vulnerability left you wondering what had changed between you, brow furrowing. âYes, my family is from District 9," he continued, âand they live comfortably while so many struggle to survive. This bracelet is a symbol of that privilege, of the divide."
âSounds a lot like more than just a piece of metal to me,â you mumbled, eyeing him cautiously.
A brief pause suggested Minho had shared as much as he was willing. His gaze swept over you, scrutinizing the details of your disheveled appearance. He took in the worn edges of your clothing and the mud-streaked lines on your face, before his eyes landed at the spot on your neck where Felix's mark had once been.
You pulled your jacket up, raising your eyebrows at him.
What?
Minho let out a puff of air from his nose, a sort of half-laugh, half-scoff. The tension in his forehead slowly relaxed, the sharp angles of his expression softening. âI spent the majority of my life in District 9, closer to the palace than you might think," he revealed, "and I never once caught a glimpse of you. There were rumors of your existence, but nobody ever saw you."
A resigned sigh escaped his lips. âI hated every moment of my life thereâthe constant surveillance, the price paid by those who dared to step out of line. And I think Iâm finally starting to understand how unbearable it must have been for you to be confined within those walls. Unseen, unheard, without any idea of what was out here," he gestured to the surrounding wilderness.
The stillness following his words was disrupted by the involuntary snap of a branch succumbing to the pressure of your grasp. Your mouth dropped and you attempted to conceal the subtle gasp that followed, praying Minho wouldn't be able to discern the astonishment you felt.
As your eyes lifted, preparing to articulate the thoughts still struggling for coherence in your mind, your attention was captured by movement just beyond his shoulder.
Amidst the foliage, a delicate tendril of smoke curled upward, spiraling into the sky. You followed the trail down to the source, where a barely visible chimney revealed itself through the treesâan apparent sign that you weren't as alone as you had once believed.
-
You returned to the campsite cradling a bundle of dry branches in your arms. Felix's face lit up at the sight, however his dark eyebrows raised in silent inquiry when he noticed the expression on your face. He accepted the branches as you handed them over, kneeling down beside him.
"Did something happen?" he asked, following the trajectory of your gaze to where Minho was approaching Chan across the clearing.
âWe found a small cottage not too far away," you began, helping him arrange the branches. "We didn't get close enough to see if anyone was inside, but there was smoke coming from the chimney.â
A mixture of curiosity and apprehension took hold of his freckled features as you continued. âIf someone lives there, there could be medical supplies or something useful for Jeongin's foot."
His eyes drifted toward Jeongin, now dozing off with his head on Seungmin's shoulder.
"He has a fever, Lix," you added with a note of urgency.
Felix swallowed, grappling with your words. "Let's say they do happen to have what we need," sparks flew from the friction of wood meeting wood beneath his hands. He maintained focus, coaxing the flames into existence. "You think theyâll just hand it over to a group of strangers?"
A brief pause followed before he asserted, "They wonât."
"Then weâll take it,â you answered plainly. Felixâs eyes widened and you emphasized, âWithout hurting them.âÂ
His eyes sparkled as the first glimmer of flames emerged, heart-shaped lips curving into a smile. âWell would you look at that, princess," he mused, "you might just be one of us after all.â
The weathered stone cottage stood as an oddity against the wild, untamed forest.
The towering pines devoured the moonlight, plunging the surroundings in velvety darkness. Beside, you, Felix moved as if he were part of the shadows themselvesâsomeone who had adapted to the darkness in ways you could only begin to imagine.
The two of youâalong with Minho, Chan, and Hyunjinâhad dispersed around the cottage to get a better idea of who might be inside.
Its circular windows were devoid of curtains or cover, as if whoever resided within had nothing to hide from prying eyes. Flickering light spilled out into the darkness as the scent of burning firewood filled the airâan indicator of the warmth within those walls.
Each step Felix took was guided by muscle memoryâa hunterâs instinct, as he left no trail of his passage behind. Darkness seemed to seep from his eyes to combat the soft moonlight. The lethal gleam behind them whispered of his past deeds, reminding you that he was the survivor of a world in which he had been forced into the role of predator rather than prey.
Felix pivoted without a sound, hands delicately grasping your arms. His eyes softened upon meeting yours, acknowledging the fleeting startle he'd caused you. "Stay here," he whispered, a soft command. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he turned back toward the cottage.
You watched with bated breath as he approached one of the open windows. His eyes narrowed, catching on something inside, someone, perhapsâ
âWhat the hell is he doing?!â a voice hissed from behind you.
You whirled around, instinctively reaching for your knife.
âShit, Chan.â
âI said not to get too close,â Chan continued, disregarding the glare you shot him.
Before you could voice your irritation any further, Felix silently returned to your side. His hand made its way to your lower back, a feather-light touch to alert you of his presence. âThereâs a man inside. Just one, from what I can tell.â
The sudden crack of a brittle branch underneath a heavy boot had all three of your heads snapping to the left. Minho and Hyunjin emerged from the shadows, their words echoing Felix's earlier revelation about a single man within the confines of the cottage.
"If he's the only one inside, we might be able to explain our situation and ask for help," Chan said.
Felix withdrew his hand from your back, deftly pulling down the bandana that matched each of your own. The fabric slid down the lower half of his face, unveiling tense features. "We don't know who this man is or what he's capable of.âÂ
âWhat if he seems hostile or refuses to cooperate?â Hyunjin chimed in. As his slender fingers adjusted the strap across his chest, the metallic clink of the firearm secured to his back punctuated the air.
The tension thickened as Chan took a moment to contemplate the options. His hand fell to his own weapon, subtly tracing the familiar contours. "Maybe we should wait until morning,â he suggested. And the words, like always, came out laden with the weight of responsibility. âPeople can be unpredictable. If we wait until morning it gives us the advantage of daylight and more time to assess the situation.â
Impatience flickered across Minho's features, his eyebrows drawing together. "We can't afford to wait," he stressed, "Jeongin has a fever and it isnât going to improve on its own. If we wait until morning, even a few hours, it worsens that much more. And it will just keep escalating untilâ"
"Alright," Chan conceded, features softening at the mention of the youngest. âIf we're going to do this we need to be cautious. Charging in blindly could make things worse, not only for Jeongin but for all of us.â He swallowed hard, eyes traveling across each of your faces.
"So, what's our plan?" you spoke up, highlighting your commitment to whatever course of action they chose.
"What if we should just knock," Chan shrugged, "it's a simple gesture, non-threatening..â
Felix scoffed audibly from beside you, the sound startling a bird into flight from somewhere above. âKnock?" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "we might as well hand over our weapons while weâre at it."
"Paint targets on our foreheads too," Hyunjin muttered.
Chan shot each of them a disapproving glare. His hand instinctively rose, fingers tracing the scar along the bridge of his nose.
Although walking up and knocking on a stranger's door in the middle of the night did seem a bit absurd, you understood the rationale behind Chan's strategyâan attempt to approach the unknown with some semblance of diplomacy before considering more aggressive measures.
"I should do it," you offered, aiming to sound as indifferent as possible despite the quickening thud of your heart in your chest. "I might seem less threatening, and he might be more willing to talk if he sees me alone."
All eyes suddenly turned to you. Felix stiffened, but Minho intervened before he could protest.
"She has a point,â Minho looked to Chan, âgiven the circumstances, if he thinks sheâs a woman alone in the middle of the night he might be more inclined to trust her and offer aide.â
Felix's expression twisted into a deep scowl, blatantly directed at Minho. "Or take advantage of her," his voice dropped to a near growl.
"That's why we'll be right here,â Chan offered.
Felix restrained himself from voicing any further objections, yet the discontent on his face remained visible. He was desperate to help Jeongin, too. He acknowledged the necessity of the plan, understood the logic, but that didnât mean he had to like it.Â
Hyunjin shifted restlessly. "What if we wait until he goes to sleep?" he said, turning to you, âapproaching his doorstep in the middle of the night might raise suspicions."
âSo what, you want to break in instead?â you countered.
"It's not like we haven't done it before," Hyunjin snapped.
Your arms crossed as you locked eyes with him in a challenging stare. He gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his golden locks, a self-assured gesture thatâas much as you would rather die than admit itâhighlighted the way Hyunjin was objectively quite stunning.
As his gaze held yours, there was a slight falter in the sharpness of his stare. Almost hinting that that he had made the suggestion in a discreet attempt to protect you from approaching the man alone.
Almost.
Feeling the weight of the others' eyes shifting between you and Hyunjin, you drew in a breath. "I'll go," you said, addressing Chan. âThereâs no way this ends well if we get caught breaking in. If I talk to him, I might at least be able to find out if he has what we need. And if he refuses to help us then we can do what needs to be done for Jeongin.â
Chan nodded. "Talk to him at the doorstep. If things seem off, call for us. We'll be right here, yeah?"
"Just be careful," Felix added quietly from beside you.Â
The corners of his eyes creased with worry, but there was trust within them. He reached over to tap on the hilt of your knife, a silent reminder of its presence, and you offered a faint smile in reply.
Aware of the collective gaze fixed on your back, you warily approached the cottage. The sight of Jeongin's fevered state replayed over and over in your mind, propelling every step as you inched closer to the plain, wooden door awaiting your touch.
Lifting a hand, you prepared to rap your knuckles against the weathered surface when an unexpected disruption seized your motion.
Before you could make contact with the door, it began to creak open. The hinges groaned, worn with age, as a sudden brightness flooded out into the night.
Squinting against the intrusion of light, your eyes instinctively dropped to a pair of worn-out leather shoes visible just across the threshold.
âI've been wondering when you lot were finally going to gather the courage to come and talk."
Your head shot up to meet the source of the voice, eyes widening as they settled on the man standing before you. His features were a testament to years spent at the edge of the wilderness. Dark hair, unkempt and graying at the temples, framed a face adorned with a rugged beard. The beard, though not long, carried a battered look, much like the rest of his appearance.
Despite the late hour, there was something peculiar about the way his eyes gleamed, a gaze perpetually attuned to his surroundings. A faint smile played on his lips as he studied your reaction, regarding you with calm curiosity.
Then, in one swift motion, he moved to close the distance between you. You stumbled back, heart drumming a rapid beat in your chest.Â
âCome on out!â his voice shattered the night, startling you into a breathless pause. He raised an arm and made a sweeping gesture directed at where the boys were hidden, as if he were inviting them over.
Your mouth fell, the astonishment in your own features reflected by each of the boys as they cautiously emerged from the brush.
The man turned, leaving the door open as he retreated back into the dimly lit interior. "You're lucky you found this place when you did," he said, addressing you over his shoulder.
Hesitant to follow, you lingered in the doorway, absorbing the details of the interior.
Stone walls enclosed the space in a large room, a single hallway extending out of view at the other end. The thatched roof was woven meticulously from bundles of dried straw, forming a gentle slope overhead. A narrow opening ushered smoke from the fireplace into the night sky, and an armchair sat facing the flames, a stack of freshly chopped wood at its feet.
Dry wood.
To your left, a small kitchen area was tucked against the wall. The air inside the cottage was rich with the enticing aroma of something savory bubbling above the rustic stove. It was a scent so captivating that it coaxed you to take a step over the threshold.
As the boys cautiously filtered in behind you, the man settled down at a small table adorned with scattered parchment. His relaxed demeanor made it seem as though he were accustomed to welcoming unexpected, armed guests into his home.
Felix took a deliberate step forward to position himself between the man and the rest of you. His eyes drilled into the stranger, scouring for any sign of ill intent. Despite the absence of a weapon, the way Felix stood made it clear that he didn't need one.
Chan hurriedly moved to join him. His hand found its way to Felix's shoulder, settling on the area where the branded mark lay concealed beneath his clothingâa warning touch. A silent caution to tread carefully.
As Chan visibly grappled with the situation, his mouth opened and closed in a struggle to find the words to start some sort of conversation.
The man chuckled, "You're wondering why I've welcomed you into my home."
The boys stood their ground, but not one of them spoke. They just stared, making you wonder if this was the first time they'd been willingly invited into a stranger's home.
The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Youâve been circling my home for the better part of the night. I figure if you'd wanted to kill me you would have gotten to it by now," he said, eyes flicking to the imposing firearm strapped to Hyunjin's back. "But something tells me you didn't come all this way just for a friendly chat, did you?"
âActually...Uh, sir,â Chan managed to find his voice, but you cringed a bit at the awkwardness it carried. "What we're looking for are medical supplies."
Minho stepped up. "Something to combat infection or fever," he clarified.
The man leaned back in contemplation. He surveyed each of you individually, eyes alight with amusement as if he found the whole situation mildly entertaining.
When his gaze fell upon you, Felix executed a deliberate shift in position. He planted himself directly in front of you, an unmistakable signal that he was fiercely protective of your well-being.
The man's faint smile morphed into a wry, knowing smirk as he looked Felix up and down. "Medical supplies, huh? You all look fine to me," he remarked.
"It's not for any of us," Chan's voice carried a hint of desperation. He paused to gauge the man's reaction before adding, "Itâs for our youngest," likely hoping to evoke some sympathy.
The man arched an eyebrow. âThere are more of you?"
Minho nodded, "We are a small group, just trying to survive."
"Survival," the man drew out the word, tasting it. âThis is not the first time survival has brought strangers to my home in search of help."
"We don't have much to offer in return, but we are willing to trade," Chan offered.
The man's eyes narrowed, probing for sincerity behind his words. "Your friend must be very important to you," he stated, "but trading is not something I require. As you can see, I have everything I need within these walls.â
His fingers began to tap rhythmically against the arm of his chair, an unsettling sound that filled the air as he weighed the value of whatever he was considering.
"Despite that, I will provide you with what you need," he settled on.
A subtle release of tension spread through the room. Minho's stoic facade betrayed a flicker of relief. Chan allowed his posture to ease ever so slightly, Hyunjin withdrew his hand from the weapon strap across his chest.
Yet, amidst the delicate shift in energy, Felix remained an exception. Unmoved by the apparent relief settling in around him, his taut stance, though not overtly aggressive, showed no signs of relenting.
"Go collect your friend," the man waved a hand at the door, "I will shelter you for the night. You're young, exhausted, and it looks like you've been through quite a lot."
Alarm bells should have been ringing in your head.
The whole situation should have been unnerving. And in several ways, it was. But there was an inexplicable aura surrounding the man. Beneath the sly arrogance that colored his expressions, an undercurrent of compassion emerged. As he spoke, you couldn't help but notice the sadness that flitted across his eyes when he took in your group. There was a depth of profound humanity within those eyesâthe kind of empathy you had never witnessed in your fatherâand it resonated with you.
As Chan started to voice his reservations, the man halted him with a raised hand. âI understand the reluctance to trust a stranger. You're cautious, and rightfully so. I see the weapons you carry, I know that you had the means to storm in here and take what you need, perhaps at my expense. Yet, you opted to knock on my door,â he chuckled lightly, shaking his head, "and that tells me something about each of you. Kindness begets kindness. Your group has demonstrated a courage that not many possess. And for that, I offer my aid.â
A stunned silence enveloped the room.
"Thank you," Chan expressed softly, each syllable carrying the weight of collective relief.
While the boys prepared to leave, your focus lingered on the man. A slight limp accompanied his movement as he stoodâthe permanent mark of an old injury to his left leg.
Felix glided across your path with a gentle brush to your arm, a silent signal to get the hell out of there. He took the lead, aiming to be the first one outside to ensure that there weren't any potential traps or threats awaiting you beyond the door.
Just as you were about to cross the threshold, something prickled at the edges of your senses. A barely perceptible exhale, too close for comfort, brushed against your ear.
The man's raspy voice came as a hushed whisper, intended for your ears alone. âA loyal guard dog you've got there,â he murmured, jerking his chin toward Felix.
You froze.
The blood in your veins threatened to boil at the comparison of Felix to a dog. But there was no malice in his tone, only a recognition of the connection. Almost as if he were measuring your reaction, trying to elicit a response from you.
And so, you willed that surge of heat to simmer.
Suppressing whatever fiery response had been brewing inside of you, you picked up your pace and stepped out into the night.
The decision to regroup and head back to the cottage had been met with skepticism. But, nine against one felt like decent odds, and the weapons your group possessed seemed to tip the scales in favor of the majority.
Upon re-entering the stone walls, you found the atmosphere had shifted. The manâstill a mysterious figure with an unnamed identityâwas in the midst of preparing something new over the stove.
Shallow breaths escaped Jeongin's lips as he settled into the armchair. The firelight played upon his features, highlighting the film of glistening sweat on his skin.
"I'm making a remedy from the herbs I've gathered,â the man announced from the kitchen. âThis will help reduce his fever and fight the infection. Nature provides us with everything we need, if we know how to use it."
He went on to explain the properties of each ingredient he'd carefully measured and crushed. His words suggested a deep connection to the land and its resources. Everything felt genuine enough, and still, your intuition screamed at you to be cautious. A scowl crept across your face as he periodically glanced to you, his earlier comment about Felix ringing in your mind.
The collective watchfulness of the group intensified as the room filled with the soothing aroma of a fragrant tea. "This will help him," the man stated calmly as he poured a cup.
As he approached Jeongin with the steaming amber liquid, Felix's hands clenched into tight fists. The freckled boy focused intently on Chan, as if he were waiting for some kind of signal to release the restrained energy inside of him. The darkness swirling in his eyes hinted that, at the slightest cue from Chan, he would spring into action without a moment's hesitation.
You swallowed. Hard. When the man extended the cup toward Jeongin's lips, a sudden surge of panic gripped you. "Waitâ"
Felix flinched sharply beside you, a ripple of tension coursing through his frame. Hyunjin, startled by your interruption, reached for the firearm still strapped to his back. Changbin took an instinctive step forward, ready to shield if need be.
The room held its breath, each of you caught in the precarious balance between conflict and composure.
The man turned, observing each of your faces. A sigh escaped him. A heavy, pitiful sound. And then, he lifted the cup and took a measured sip, his eyes locking onto yours.
âIt is safe," he said after swallowing, "I have brewed this remedy countless times for myself." He held the cup out to you, making room for you to take his place beside Jeongin.
Cradling the cup in your hands, the warmth seeped through your fingertips. Jeongin stirred, eyelashes fluttering against the pale flush of his skin as you stepped up beside the armchair.
Feeling the need for guidance, you thought of Chan. Then, Felix. Jisung, an unpredictable force, lingered in your considerations too.
But when your head lifted, it wasn't Chan, Felix, or Jisung you looked to.
Minho nodded in silent reassurance, and it was all you needed to bring the cup to Jeongin's lips.
After he'd taken the last sip of the remedy, you turned and looked the man dead in the eyes as you pushed the cup back into his hands. "If anything happens to him because of this," you asserted, "I won't hesitate to kill you myself."
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Felix's lips twitch upward. And in that subtle expression, you couldâve sworn you detected something that looked a lot like pride.
-
As the night wore on, something incredibly rare began to settle over your groupâa blooming sense of trust. The culmination of the day's events, coupled with the comforting atmosphere inside the cottage gradually pulled each of you into a sense of security.
With Jeongin's condition showing signs of stabilizing, Hyunjin and Changbin decided to venture back to the rover to fetch supplies, too wary to leave them out in the open. Leaned against the armchair, Seungmin was first to fall asleep after Jeongin. Minho and Jisung had found solace in each other's presence near the hearth, where the dancing flames bathed their sleeping forms in a subtle glow.
In the midst of it all, Chan had occupied a seat across from the man at the table. They were deep in hushed conversation, discussing matters out of earshot, but the sound of their voices mingling carried an odd sense of security with it.
You found your own sanctuary nestled discreetly in a corner beside Felix. Shielded by miscellaneous objects and shadows, the position rendered you just out of direct eyesight from the two engrossed in conversation at the table.
The firelight played upon the subtle arch of his nose, the gentle curve of his lips, the way his eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks. Your hand gravitated toward his, and he responded by entwining his fingers with your own.
"I'll stay up with you," you murmured softly, "wasn't planning on falling asleep tonight anyway."
Felix responded with a soft kiss to your temple before guiding you to lie down with him, finding a more comfortable position. He pulled you into his chest and you raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry, glancing to the others. But the freckled boy only grinned as he pulled you closer.
âSleep,â he murmured softly.
Succumbing to the moment, you laid your head down against his chest, relishing in the comforting beat of his heart.
As his fingers began to trail across your back in soothing circles, you hesitantly draped an arm over his waist, too tired to care about what the others might thinkâwhat Hyunjin might think, when he returned to find you like this.
Your mind drifted as you tried to keep the exhaustion at bay.
You imagined waking up to a rooftop bathed in gentle sunlight. You pictured the soft glow of a lantern in a narrow alleyway, reflecting off of sad eyes that carried so much more when they looked to the moon.
The last coherent thing that crossed your mind was the confession you'd been holding back since the moment you'd spent with Felix in the rain.
You might have murmured his name as those three little words resurfaced in your thoughts, but the boundary between wakefulness and dreams blurred.
-
A sudden jolt snapped you back from the brink of sleep, leaving you momentarily disoriented.
Still wrapped in Felix's arms, you anticipated to find him awake when you lifted your head from his chest. However, the features that met your gaze were softened by the gentle embrace of sleep. As your eyes lingered on him, you hoped that he would be granted solace from the nightmares tonight.
You brushed a few strands of hair from his face before sitting up, settling into a watchful position. It couldn't be too much longer now until Hyunjin and Changbin returned.
The rover wasn't that far.
You blinked, trying to regain a hold on your surroundings. As your tired eyes struggled to focus, they fell upon Chan. He now sat leaning against the wall next to the door, a testament to his determination to wait for Hyunjin and Changbin. His eyes were closed, head resting back, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythmâlikely never intending to succumb to sleep.
A subtle noise caught your attention across the room, where man stood at a small basin in the kitchen, washing the pot he'd used to brew Jeongin's tea. His back was turned to you, the slight limp in his step evident as he shifted on his feet.
Glancing around the cottage, you made note of the various items scattered about. An aged book sat on a small table next to the armchair. Beside it lay an ornate silver necklace, its chain interlaced with dried white flowers that you didn't recognize.
Across from you, a glimmer reflected off of a small chest on a bookshelf, as if it had been purposefully tucked away amongst the clutter.
Your heart skipped a beat as you focused on the lockâat the symbol engraved on it.
So hauntingly familiar..
You squinted.
And then, your heart plummeted. Right down to your stomach.
You were standing before you'd even willed your feet to move, fueled by sheer instinct as your hand found its way to the knife securely strapped to your waistband.
The blade gleamed as you pulled it out. Your footsteps fell light as a whisper on the wooden floor as you approached the man, tightening your grip on the knife's handle to give you some semblance of control.
His hands, still glistening with water, hovered in the air as he twisted his head to acknowledge your presence.
"Why,â you growled, âdoes that chest bear the symbol ofâ"
You stiffened as he turned around, wiping his hands on a thin towel. "Sit," he urged, nodding to one of the two chairs positioned around the table.
âNo," you lifted the blade and pointed it directly at him, surprised at how steady it was given the tremor coursing through your body. "Give me one good reason why I shouldnâtââ
"You are correct," he cut you off, "that chest indeed bears the mark of your father's army. But it also carries the weight of my own history."
A chill slithered down your spine as you could physically feel the blood drain from your face. The room swayed around you as you staggered, clutching at the edge of the table to steady yourself.
Despite the shock that painted your expression, the man remained impassive. You stood frozen in place, muscles locked with fear, as he navigated the intimate confines of the cottage to retrieve the small chest from the shelf.
He cradled it in his hands before placing it on the table with deliberate care.
"Sit," he repeated, settling into the chair across from you.
âH-how," you stammered. Your eyes darted over your shoulder to Chan, at the heavy weapon across his lap. But before you could muster the words to call for him, the man spoke again.
âI suspected who you were the moment I saw you standing on my doorstep. Initially, I mistook you for a ghost," he shook his head, voice softening, "the resemblance you bear to her is unmistakable. But it wasn't until this very moment, with that knife in your hand, that I knew for sure."
Without a word, you lowered yourself into the chair across from him.
Pleased with your reaction, the man reached beneath his shirt to reveal a necklace with a dangling key. He used the key to unlock the chest, extracting a worn cloth from within.
The cloth was unraveled to reveal a blade. It was identical to your own in size and shape. Yet, despite the apparent resemblance, the engravings told a different story. Crimson red flowers adorned the handle of the knife in his hand, a stark contrast to the white blossoms etched into your motherâs.
âA lifetime ago," the man cleared his throat, drawing your attention away from the twin blades. "I was a commander in your father's army. But in truth, I was more than that. A confidant, an advisor, and dare I say, his friend. Your father was never entirely sound of mind, even in his youth, but power has a way of magnifying the cracks in one's sanity. â
He swallowed thickly, as if the following words were difficult to articulate. "I cannot absolve myself either," he confessed, "in the pursuit of my own power and blind loyalty, I too committed unspeakable acts. I followed orders without question, turning a blind eye to the suffering we caused. I assisted your father in making the decisions that stain his handsâdecisions that haunt me still.â
"Stop," you croaked. Your chest tightened as you grappled with a rising tide of nausea. And you questioned whether your legs would even hold you if you tried to stand. "How is it even possible that we found you.."
The ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "Fate, my dear, works in mysterious ways," he answered, "and it seems to have conspired to bring you here tonight, to hear my truth."
After a brief pause, he redirected the conversation. "Many years ago, there was a woman, a guide of sorts, known for leading those from the outer districts to District 9 in search of a better life.â
Hira.Â
As best as you could, you veiled the flicker of recognition that sparked within you at her mention.
âYour mother was amongst those brought to District 9, to the palace. The moment your father laid eyes on her, he was consumed by a new kind of obsession. Within a week they were married. And the world, entranced by fear of his power, did not dare question it. He bound her to himânot out of love, but in the twisted grip of an obsession with her determination, her beauty, and her strength. Of course, there was also a dire urgency to ensure that his lineage persisted, rooted in the truth that only his bloodline could unlock the secrets of a hidden sanctum nestled deep within in District 2."
"Miroh," you whispered shakily.
He offered a solemn nod. âYour father saw your mother as a means to an end. He stripped away her dreams, her hopes, and caged her spirit. Yet, in the shadowed corridors of the palace, I came to understand her," a wistful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "She was resilient, even in the face of cruelty. During the stolen moments we shared, she taught me about the outer districts and those we had oppressed. Through her, I learned not just about the struggles of these people, but about love, kindness, and hope.â
The sigh he let out carried the weight of a lifetime. The pain and the tenderness in his words echoed as you recognized that these were the most intimate details anyone had ever shared with you about your mother.
"Months later," he continued, "your mother entrusted me with a secret that would alter the course of our lives. I saw the fear in her eyes when she told me she that was pregnantâthe fear that your father could pose a threat to the life growing within her. The following morning, duty dictated that I embark on a routine scouting mission in the outer districts. While I was there, my heart drove me to make a harrowing decision," he closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "I slit the throats of the guards who had accompanied me. I burned their bodies beyond recognition, and in doing so I faked my own death. I built this cottage and the plan was simpleâreturn for your mother, liberate her from the clutches of your father so that she may raise her child in peace. However, a year elapsed before the circumstances permitted my return. When I finally slipped back into the heart of District 9, under the cloak of darkness, it was only to learn that she had.."
He trailed off, unable to utter the painful conclusion.
Your stomach churned with the deep, unresolved ache tied to the memories of your mother. At the thought of her existence being shrouded in some kind of tragic narrative, and the the crushing realization that you would never know the full truth of her journey because she was gone.
The man's eyes fell to the blade in front of him, fingers tracing the engravings as if seeking solace in their familiar touch. And you didn't even know if you could believe a single word he'd said, but you wondered if he was the one to have given your mother the counterpart.
âI loved her, your mother,â his voice broke. The words hung in the airâdense, and fractured, and he did not look up as he continued.
âI loved her deeply, but in our time spent together I never summoned the courage to tell her those words. I believe she knew it, I know she did, and yet, it haunts me still. It always will. More than anything.â
The sorrow and regret etched on his face told the story of a lifetime's worth of remorse. It was a familiar expression, the same torment you had seen in Felix's eyes countless times before.
You glanced to the freckled boy, his silhouette barely visible in the dying firelight.
And then, another realization struck you. With a tremor of uncertainty in your voice, you turned back to the man. âYou and my mother..Did you ever..Is there any chance that you could be my..â the words faltered with the possibility of a truth too profound to fully grasp.
He brought a hand up, rubbing at his face. "I don't know," he shook his head, "your mother and I were together before I left, once. But there is no way to know for certain until you reach Miroh. If you cannot open the lock, if it is my blood that runs through your veins instead of his, then I have damned us all."
The man fixed you with an intense stare. "If he finds you before you reach Miroh,â he quieted his voice to a gravelly whisper, âif he finds you, if the rebellion fails, he will kill them allââ
"I am not afraid of him," you croaked.
"You should be," he warned, "You should be terrified of him. Because he will save that one," he nodded his chin in Felix's direction, "for last. He will draw it out because of the way you look at him. And he will savor it until the bitter end."
His eyes bore into yours, urging you to understand the gravity of his words. "If you love that boy, tell him. Even if you think you may love him, tell him. Before it is too late.â
It was then that you registered the hot tracks of tears on your cheeks.
You were going to be sick.
As the vivid, gut-wrenching image of Felix suffering at the hands of your father seared through your mind, you were going to be sick.
You pushed the chair back, stumbling to your feet.
Desperate to put physical space between yourself and the cruel fate that had been painted before you, you burst outside, gasping for air.
As you doubled over, clutching at your chest, the rhythmic echoes of footsteps reached your ears. There were tears streaming down your cheeks when you turned around to confront the man, ready to demand answers.
But it wasn't his figure that stepped into the dim light seeping from the door.
As Felix took a cautious step forward, the expression he wore told you he had heard everything. Including the very unsettling possibility that your blood might not be the key to Mirohâthat the hope every single one of you had clung to might always have been nothing more than just a fragile, fragile illusion.
"What if my blood doesnât work?â you choked out through tears as he closed the distance between you, the weight of his gaze holding you in place.Â
"We don't know for sure yet, okay?â
"Felix," you pleaded his name like there was something he could do. As if he weren't just as helpless as you.
"I will not let anything happen to you," he whispered as his arms enveloped your trembling shoulders. "You're okay. We're okay,"
You shook your head, closing your eyes as Felix gently lifted your chin. "I will not let anyone hurt you," he vowed, traced the path of your tears with his thumbs.
But Felix could sense the panic tightening its grip on you, rendering your breaths shallow and uneven. The ache to alleviate your distress clawed at him. He would've done anything to make it stop. And so, in that vulnerable moment he summoned the courage to articulate the only thing he had left to offer.
âI love you,â he whispered, âI love you, princess. No matter what.â
Felix closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against yours. He reveled in the feeling of his own admission, and it was something even fear could not outweigh.Â
You breathed him in.
You knew this would not last forever with him. Nothing ever does. And you wondered if you will ever be able to accept that, even when you no longer have a choice.Â
But in that moment, Felix was there. You extended a hand, and he was warm. He was real, and he felt more like home than anything ever had.
You loved him too, and it was a feeling you did not dare let go.
Part 8 coming soon..
thank you so much for reading<33 if you would like to be added to the taglist please don't hesitate to let me know :)
taglist: @astralis-is-typing @skz-streamer @vixensss @yangracha @toplinelix @lixiesw1fe @slytherinatheart @hash2013 @skzswife @xosugardoll @sunnyhonie @skzcollision @hydroyaksha @l1xvanter @nimx9 @ilychee08
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SKZ fic recs !!
-- most of these are felix, and some of them are jisung and minho :3
-- {â€ïžâđ©č} = angst {đ} = mature/suggestive {đ} = fluff || pink means personal favorite !!
-- they are organized by member and word count
⥠ᶻzïčl.felixïčâłïč
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â
ïčïčl.minhoïčïčȘïčâ
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labyrinth 20k by @soobnny â€ïžâđ©čđ
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àšà§ïčh.jisung ïč â§âË â
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series !! (all felix x reader) àŒ»*à©â©
happy pills by @seospicybin 18.7k words total; finished â€ïžâđ©čđđ
[a cute series for a quick read <3]
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[caused emotional trauma tbh, i was crying at 2am]
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[this one is insanely fluffy and cute i liked almost died from how sweet it was]
too hot to handle series by @seospicybin 38.5k words total; finished đđ
[this series also has versions for leeknow, chan, han, and changbin]
off the deep end by @stayxlix 82.3k words; ongoing â€ïžâđ©čđ
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bodyguard au by @skzdarlings 110k words total; finished â€ïžâđ©čđđ
[INSANELY GOOD. please read this, it also has a oneshot that goes with it. went through hell and back while reading this i was so invested.]
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i dont even know how to move on from that bro what do i do now
final part: bodyguard!felix x reader
masterlist.
PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.
( READ ON AO3. )
Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.
pairing: lee felix/reader
content info: smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending. (chapter word count; 19k words)
warning for this chapter: the usual story dynamics plus explicit violence, intense peril, threat and injury to reader, graphic depictions of death, explicit sexual content.
-
Your father will be here soon. He kept his distance during the rescue operation but will reconvene with his team before the journey home.Â
You and Felix wake long before his anticipated arrival, when dawn is only just peeking into the hotel room.Â
You lay in bed, your head on his bare chest and his arms around you. You discuss the potential confrontation ahead. Last time you were taken, your father was less than sympathetic to your plight. Even though this was more his fault than yours, you are certain you will take the blame.  He cannot take responsibility for a misstep. If he is fallible, he is weak, and that puts his whole existence in jeopardy. It must always be someone elseâs fault.  Â
Therefore it is likely he will punish you. Therefore it is likely he will ask Felix to do it.Â
âFelix,â you say when he does not look at you.  He is staring out the window with a look of pure frustration.Â
âI know,â he says. âYou want me to do it. Last time IâŠâÂ
âYes.âÂ
There is no need to discuss last time. You both know he fumbled that exchange. Felix is meant to be the personification of resolute strength and obedience, the perfect soldier. His moment of weakness snared your fatherâs attention, as weakness always does. Your quick response remedied the situation well enough, but you will not be so lucky next time.  The only thing worse than a moment of weakness is the persistence of it. He cannot hesitate again.Â
âIf,â you say slowly, âwe want to find a way out⊠then now, more than ever, we cannot give him any reasons to be suspicious of us.âÂ
âI know,â he says, but his jaw is still clenched and his gaze is faraway. Â
âFelix.â You touch his jaw, minding the darkening bruise, and turn his face to yours. His expression softens when he meets your gaze. âThank you,â you say. âI love you. I trust you. It will be okay.âÂ
He cups your cheek and lifts your face. His looks at you like he is studying every small detail. Even though he must know your face perfectly â seeing it when he wakes, before he goes to sleep, every day for so much of his life â he looks at you like he is seeing you for the first time all over again.Â
You laugh when he flicks your bottom lip, the little pout he has long since called his weakness.Â
âYou could convince the sky it wasnât blue,â he says, and kisses you tenderly. âI love you too, sweetheart.âÂ
Maybe it is the novelty of hearing that out loud, or maybe you will just be crazy about him forever, but you feel flustered. You laugh and squirm, your skin hot. It makes him laugh, the menace kissing down your throat just to make you wriggle more.Â
âDonât let my daddy catch you then,â you tease, breathlessly. âHe wouldnât like that very much.â  Â
The returned chuckle makes you shiver. You run your fingers through his hair but he grabs your wrist and pins it down. Your breath catches when he sucks a bruising kiss on your throat. He is usually so careful about leaving marks, but today he dips his head to the soft skin of your breast and bites a mean little mark into the tender skin, making you gasp and buck beneath his hold.Â
âNo, he wouldnât, would he?â Felix says, his deep voice dropping even lower. âWhat would everyone say, hmm? Your daddy, your guards⊠all those rich boys at those fancy parties who think they have a chance with youâŠâÂ
âEveryone thinks Iâm a frigid bitch,â you reply, joining his game, smiling knowingly. âAnd I am, arenât I? Nothing but trouble.â
âNothing but trouble,â he says with a grin. He flicks the covers off, then his hands are on your hips and he flips you as smoothly. You yelp when he drags you halfway down the bed, arranging you as he kneels behind you. âYou canât fool me, sweetheart,â he says. One hand curls around your throat and the other snakes down your backside. âFrigid? Mm. I donât think so. I actually think you are very, very soft⊠and warmâŠâÂ
His fingers slip inside you easily, wet from your previous lovemaking and wetter still from his voice. Every little breath and tortured groan has you twitching and gasping.Â
âFelix,â you say. Â
It is the right thing to say. You are clawing at the bedsheets moments later, hiccupping on each watery breath as he holds your hips and fucks you right down into the mattress. You press against it like you could disappear there, fucked into freedom, never to return to this dire world again.Â
You sink into the bed and float in your mind, sighing when he wraps his arms around you and covers you with his body. He is hot and whole and so alive, and everything seems possible while you are joined together. You have each other, completely and irrevocably. That is all you need to survive.Â
You finish not a moment too soon. You are nestled in his arms, kissing and kissing and kissing, flushed and satisfied and content, when reality comes knocking. Felix throws on some pants while you scurry into the bathroom and close the door.Â
Felix steps into the hall. Between the bathroom door and the hotel room door, you only hear muffled voices. Then a few clicks, then another knock, then you jump.  You are wearing a blanket and it slips with your surprise. You adjust it frantically, but Felix says, âItâs just me.â Â
You crack open the door to Felix in a t-shirt and his combat pants.  You recognize the tired lines on his face, cracks in the mask he is struggling to don. His reassuring smile is not convincing.Â
âHere,â he says, handing you some clothes. âYour father is here. He wants to see you at breakfast.âÂ
âOf course he does,â you say, just for something to say, letting your frustration seep into your tone.Â
The bathroom tiles are cold under your feet. A sharp snap of sensation and a reminder of reality. Felix makes the world feel small in comparison to him, but the world is still there, ever turning with its usual machinations and politics and powers. You are still suspended helplessly in the centre of it all. Though you pushed the darkest truths to the corner for a few hours, making love and comforting each other, all those hurts and agonies are still there. You see it in his eyes, his glance flickering from here to there as he roams with his thoughts. Â
Neither of you have ever had a normal life and you do not know what to do with one. He has been making difficult choices since he was a child. Neither of you truly knows if you are making the right one now.Â
You do the best you can with a strong hug. It is a lingering, affectionate embrace, fitting your bodies together until you feel grounded.Â
Felix looks over your shoulder, catching his own reflection.  You look back as well, his cheek against yours, your eyes meeting in the mirror.Â
âI couldnât stand the sight of my own face,â he says, his voice low even though you are alone, like the words are fighting his tongue. It is hard to admit. He swallows hard but continues, âI hated the stupid kid looking back at me⊠I wanted to be someone better, someone who could actually do something rightâŠâÂ
You look at him rather than his reflection. When you touch a strand of blonde hair, he closes his eyes, as if he can feel the pad of your finger on a lock of hair, smarting more than his bruises.Â
âIs that why⊠the hair?â you ask clumsily. You do not know how to wade through ten years of emotion. Felix has coloured his hair regularly since the day you met him. The blonde suits him but it is clearly unnatural.  It has not been soft in a very long time, coarse from repeated dye jobs.Â
The colour is just one more layer of his meticulous mask, crumbling in front of you as he nods and sighs. An admittance. He could not stand to look in the mirror and see that other version of himself, the boy he was, the boy who made all those mistakes.   You see him, the years of questioning his choices, the impossible tether around his throat. There has never been a day he has not questioned his choices. Working for one bad man or another. Rescuing his friend or his lover.  Letting violence happen or letting the violence use him.
You kiss his cheek, then below his jaw, threading your fingers through his hair. You scratch at his scalp, just a feathery light touch, one that makes him melt in your arms.  Â
âI love you,â you say. You find it is an addicting word yet it never loses its potency. Your heart still races when he touches his forehead to yours, when he strokes your sides and hums a gentle sound of pleasure. âThings have changed a lot over the years. But weâre still here.â Still living your lives, even in broken bits, those stolen pieces you mentioned so long ago. âWeâve changed. Weâll change again. Things will happen and weâll figure it out. But please donât hate that boy anymore. I care about him a lot. I want him to be happy too.âÂ
His face scrunches with the threat of tears, but he controls himself. He pushes the emotion into a laugh, though it is humourless. Then he closes the space between you and kisses you, cups the back of your head and holds you there until you are both satisfied.Â
âAll right,â he says in a rough voice. âGet dressed. Itâs going to be a long day.âÂ
âYouâll be there, though,â you say.Â
âAlways,â he says, a hint of amusement touching the corner of his lips. âIâm your bodyguard, hmm?â
You laugh and kiss him again.Â
âRight,â you say. âAlways.âÂ
-
Your father sits at a dining table in the penthouse suite. Behind him, a window wall flaunts the city skyline. Daylight casts a glow around him like some deified king lording over his petty kingdom. Guards loiter in the room and the corridor, keeping their eyes sharp as hotel staff prepare the table.Â
You sit across from him with the sunlight in your eyes, the usual position of discomfort and inferiority. He does not look at you, nor does he greet you, his eyes on his phone until the table is set. A staff member goes to serve him but he dismisses them.Â
âAll of you, go,â he says, not just to the staff but his team as well. They filter out of the room one by one. Â
The penthouse is a ostentatious space, all white linen and gilded frames, tall ceilings and bay windows, but as the room empties, it becomes frighteningly big. Or maybe you just feel frighteningly small, his tactics working as they often do. Your father knows how to push your buttons because they are the same as his.  He is scared. It makes him angry.  He makes you scared. It makes you angry.Â
âFelix,â he says. âStay.â
Felix is all that tempers you.  He stands against the wall but you do not look at him, staring at your father until he finally looks your way. Despite the light, you hold his stare, feeling a modicum of triumph when he looks away first.Â
âDid they damage you?â he asks. His phrasing almost makes you laugh. Damaged. As if outside forces were needed for that.Â
âIâm fine,â you say. âMy bodyguard rescued me. Your team was damaged, though.â You throw the word right back at him. You cross your leg and sit back, like you are as unbothered as him.  Â
You know that underneath his cold exterior, he is anything but casual. He is letting his rage simmer as he builds to some awful retaliation. He was conducting a mission, sending his best asset on a job, and it was interrupted by your kidnapping. A kidnapping that nearly lost him more than his heir, but that same irreplaceable asset. An asset that previously made a mistake in front of his eyes. This is no longer a game, a squabble between a parent and child, but a real world crisis with dangerous consequences.  Â
You should not provoke him, and that is why you do. Because provoking him is something you have always done and you need him to see you as that hapless child if you are going to beat him. You do not want to arouse further suspicion in him, that you are sitting here thinking about your own schemes, that you know more about his assets and operations than he could ever suspect.
So you toss your rejoinder and he catches it, as he always does, with a cruel smirk.Â
âThere are more where they came from,â he says.  Â
Returning like cockroaches and squashed just the same. If only a multi-generational empire could be toppled as easily. But your father is more than a man across a table; he is ten men in the corridor and more on the ground, he is paid staff and investors and a whole society. Â
Though you feign nonchalance, inside adrenaline pounds. Sweat gathers, your heart races. He is good at making you feel small, but at least it is predictable. The scene unfolds  in your mind before it happens, the script playing before a single action is commanded.  You will be scolded. You will be reprimanded. You will be punished.Â
âFelix, come here,â your father says.
You predicted he would involve Felix after what happened last time. The only question is what manner of punishment he will force from his hand. All you can do is trust Felix to play his role so you can play yours.  You made it clear the physical pain was meaningless, that you could take whatever he inflicted. Just another inside joke between you. You will laugh about it one day.Â
You do not look away from your father. Your eyes are locked in a challenging stare, daring the other to break. You are scared, but you feel so much more than fear and rage. With your love for Felix, with the hope in your heart, you are an ocean of feeling and you are not ashamed of it anymore. You stare your father down and mutely convey that you are not broken, that he did not win, that he never will win.Â
His answer is the flick of a kitchen knife. It slides across the table and nearly tumbles right over the lip. It teeters within armâs reach of you. It is tempting to look and consider its purpose with the trepidation you feel, but you do not. You tell yourself he will only hurt you so much, that putting you in true peril would surely be counterproductive to his overall efforts. Whatever plan he has for that knife will be a momentary pain you can recover from.
Then he says, âFelix.âÂ
Felix steps into your periphery, the black of his fatigues a shadow at your side.Â
âPick up that knife,â your father says.  âPut it through your hand. Right through to the table.â
It is not the demand you were expecting, not by a long shot. As your father stares you down, steady where you start to waver, you realize this test is not for Felix. It is for you. Â
âI trust,â your father hisses the word, âyou know the spot that will inflict the least permanent damage.â
The last time your father made this demand, you and Felix were kids at the start of your messy life together. Instinct propelled you to stop him. Over the years, you have mastered schooling your reactions. The girl who tackled Felix, the girl who sobbed while he was beaten, that girl learned to save her tears for later. Your fatherâs version of you is a cold, headstrong, hateful fool. She might stop Felix to combat her father, or she might let him suffer out of pure hatred.Â
Both options feel wrong. Regardless of what you choose, you feel like you are giving something away. You feel like your father will see right past it. He stares at you like he will find your secrets written on your face.  Â
You have seconds to decide and that is not enough time. The moment passes you by. Felix plants his hand and takes the knife. Your father does not count him down. He watches you, willing you to make a mistake, to show your weakness. To prove him right.Â
You flinch when the knife thuds into the table, the soft reverberation of the wood accompanied with a gross little squelch that sounds too loud in this too big room. Your reaction is strongly stamped on your face, disgusted and upset. You look away to stop the tears that stab behind your eyes.Â
Everything that has happened, everything you have done, and you are right back here. After everything, he still ended up with that knife in his hand.Â
Your father rips it out. Felix catches his breath but does not cry out. You catch a glimpse of the bloody knife before your father tosses it on the floor, as if he is discarding something insignificant.Â
You slowly meet his gaze. He is still assessing you. You cannot tell if you passed or failed his test. By the scrutiny of his regard, it seems he does not know either. All you can do is look at each other while Felix bleeds beside you.
âYou may go,â your father says, cold as the ice that locks your limbs. It takes you a moment to stir life back into them.Â
âFelix,â your father says. âYou stay. We have business to discuss.âÂ
You do not look at Felix. You cannot bear to look at him.  On the escorted march back to your room, you are quiet, biting the inside of your cheek to stop any more unwanted reactions. Only when you are alone in the room do you let it out, an aggravated cry as you rip a pillow off the bed and whip it blindly across the room.Â
This was never going to be easy, but now it feels like the ongoing struggle between you and your father has led to an insurmountable deadlock. He has you enclosed in his fist and he is threatening to crush you in it.Â
You do not think he knows about the true nature of your relationship with Felix. He might suspect anything, an affair the last of it. Even a menial friendship would be a detrimental betrayal to him.  All he sees is a smudge of a weakness in what should be the strongest cog in his machine.Â
He is testing you and tormenting you. He is perched on his pedestal, waiting for you to throw yourself at his feet in eventual penitence. Â
You will not. Not this time. Your father is expecting retaliation in the form of equal dramatics and you will not satisfy him. You will sit quietly. You will do what you have been doing, stealing pieces of your life in the silence and shadows. He controls a realm of power, affluence, and violence. You control yourself. Love has saved you all this time. It will be your means of escape for good.Â
You sit in quiet repose until Felix returns. Although you promised to remain calm, you cannot help but fuss over his injured hand. It has already been stitched and bandaged but you peek beneath the binding, almost gagging at the sight.
âAll right, enough,â Felix says. He lifts your head and guides it onto his shoulder instead. You are sitting on the small loveseat under the window. You throw your arms around him and hold tight.Â
âIâm sorry,â you say, a tear sliding from your cheek to his shoulder. You sniffle.Â
âDonât be,â he says. âI can take the pain. It means nothing. Sweetheart, he means nothing.â
âI know,â you say, but you sniffle one more time anyway. Gathering yourself, you lift your head to look at him. âWhat did my father want after I left?âÂ
âI donât fully know,â Felix says, the tenderness in his expression giving way to uncertainty. âHe said he wants to continue the job,â Felix says. âHe and Miroh, theyâre both chasing these long-term investments in some government building contracts⊠Miroh has been getting in the way of your fatherâs deals, so heâs been mostly standing guard. Then he got intel that a significant asset of Mirohâs would be involved in securing an upcoming bidâŠÂ And he thought⊠he thought with the right team he could⊠acquire whatever this asset wasâŠâÂ
âChris,â you say, a breathless note. âThatâs why he brought you on, isnât it? He told you the acquisition was Chris.â
âIf Chris was alive, if he was working for Miroh even after everythingâŠâ Felix swallows. He looks pained, like all these words are hard to say. His voice is rough and the words scratch like sandpaper as he forces them out. âBetween me, your fatherâs back-up team, and the element of surprise⊠We had a chance of stopping Mirohâs subterfuge and getting⊠rescuing⊠Chris. Finally.âÂ
But Chris might be dead. Your father might have killed him. Miroh has a vast artillery and the asset in question could be anyone or anything. It makes more sense your father was using Felix to eliminate this obstruction. That is what he always does. He uses someone like a thing, strengths and weaknesses calculated, and works them into his scheme.Â
You look at the bloody bandage, wrapped tight around that wounded hand, and you cannot bring yourself to vocalize these awful, pessimistic thoughts. You say instead, âBut why would he want to continue the job now? You no longer have the element of surprise.â Â
âNo,â Felix says. âWe donât. Thatâs because the job is over and your father is lying.âÂ
âWhat?â
âChris is dead.â Felix says it for you, with a hard set to his jaw that you recognize as a shield against emotion. He does not look at you because it exposes that vulnerable, human part of him, and right now he is fighting to maintain his composure. Cool, collected, he plainly states, âThere is no chance of this job succeeding anymore. Miroh caught onto us. He interrupted us. Whatever we were after is not there anymore. Your father is just pulling my leash to see if I fight back.â He takes a deep breath before saying more. âHe wants an excuse to question my loyalty.âÂ
âHe is provoking us,â you agree. There is a second of silence, both of you in contemplation, then you say, âWe canât let him.âÂ
âIf I refuse this job, he will just get worse,â Felix says. âIf we try to run right now, we wonât get far. We need to do this right, we need toââ
âTake the job,â you say. âYou said yourself, the job is over. My father is a bastard and an idiot but he would never risk sending his best team somewhere dangerous when he has nothing to gain from it. Call his bluff. Take the job.âÂ
âI canât leave you again,â Felix says, eyes closing as he clenches his good fist. âI wonât leave you alone with him again. Not right now, not like this. Sweetheart, if something happenedââ
âIâll be fine,â you say, wrapping your hand over his fist and gently uncurling his fingers. You nudge your nose against his chin, coaxing him to turn his head. He finally does, sighing as he looks down at you. You smile. âIâll be safe in the house.â
âItâs more dangerous in there than out here,â he says.Â
âYou know he wonât do anything worse than heâs ever done before,â you say. You look down when you touch the bandage on his hand. âWe can take the cuts and bruises a little longer. Do the job, then come back to me. And who knowsâŠâ You kiss his cheek, a touch of comfort. âMaybe youâll find the truth about Chris.âÂ
âI know the truth,â he says, unmoved. âHeâs dead.âÂ
You do concede it is incredibly likely. If anything stopped your father from killing Chris, it was not morality, rather the practicality of breaching Mirohâs defences. But it sounds like Chris was trouble to Miroh, so it is possible there was no pushback.  Â
It still breaks your heart to see Felix like this. The burden of this bargain has caused him strife for so long, but you can see how it motivated him too. As the hope leaves him, a light dims, and even your affection cannot ignite it.Â
âHow do you know that?â you ask helplessly.Â
âI just feel it,â Felix says. âIn my heart. I guess. I think, umm. I think. I think Iâve known for a long time. Maybe from the last time I ever saw him. But I needed to believe in it. I think I needed to believe Chris could be saved because then maybeââ He looks down at his injured hand. His fingers twitch when he fails to close his fist. âThen I would have done something good,â he says miserably. âMaybe then I could be worth saving too.â  Â
âFelix. Baby.â You touch his face, still minding the bruise that grows more vicious by the second. It only adds to the ache in your chest as you look at him, beaten and battered for someone elseâs sake. He has been taking hits every day since he was fourteen years old. Whether it was for you or his friend, he was willing to surrender his life if it meant even a possibility of saving someone else. âFelix, you have more heart and humanity than anyone I have ever known,â you say. âEverything you have ever done has been because of love, despite what they tried to make you otherwise. How can you not see what I see?âÂ
He looks at you, really looks at you, the way he did this morning. He traces the curve of your cheek and brushes the subtle pout of your lips.Â
âYouâve always seen more than most people do,â he says. âYou give me something else to believe in, you know?â
âStop flirting,â you tease gently. âThis is serious.â
He laughs, his smile soft but sincere. You kiss him slowly, until you are breathing the same uneven breaths, your hearts no doubt beating in tandem. Â
Then you pick yourselves up and prepare for what comes next.  Â
-
Your father claims they will be gone for a week but you know it is not true. There is no real mission so they will return in a few days at the latest. For your part, you can only wait. Â
Even though you have a tenuous plan, it is still hard being separated from Felix. You remind yourself that you could not protect him in the field anyway, but logic is meaningless to your heart. You imagine a version of yourself that is possessed of so many skills, she could wipe out every obstacle without breaking a sweat.Â
But you are you. Your skills are more emotional than physical and right now that physicality is even worse than usual. You are lethargic from a brutal couple days, weak from the drugging, sore all over, and you cannot sleep well in an empty bed.Â
You wake repeatedly in the night, startled by a nightmare where you are being taken, where Felix is being beaten, where your father kills him and a dozen boys like him and all you can do is watch. The nightmares drag you into consciousness where you are barely eased, the reality of the world not so different from your nighttime horrors.Â
In the daylight, you maintain the healthiest disposition possible. You keep your distance from the security team, sitting in your room or quietly on the couch. You do not engage when they antagonize you.  They grow bored of your presence soon enough, especially when they cannot get a rise out of you, leaving them with nothing to report to your father.
You expect the hours to drone endlessly.
Then you have a visitor.Â
You ignore the doorbell. The security team does not seem surprised by the interruption so you disregard it. Maybe it is just another member of the team.Â
You ignore the bell and the bustle of guards. You head to the kitchen to scrounge for some lunch instead. You hum as you chop vegetables, not paying any mind to the footsteps behind you. You expect it is a member of the security team, stalking you in the name of supervision. You turn to address him, a saccharine sweet smile at your face and a drole quip on your tongue, but your heart stops at the figure standing across from you.Â
âHyunjin?â
You breathe more than whisper his name, like surprise has winded you.Â
You stand there, knife in hand, jaw hanging open as you stare into the face of your old friend. He is somehow even more handsome than you remember, long dark hair framing his face, eyes fierce and cheekbones sharp. An expensive blazer hugs his trim form. His boots resound with a softer thump than combat boots, so you should have realized it was someone else sooner.
You never would have guessed him. You have not seen Hyunjin in years.Â
âHello, my girlfriend,â Hyunjin says with a smile, dazzling and beautiful and oh-so very fake.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â you ask tentatively, so perplexed by his appearance in your house that you do not know where to begin. You nearly pinch yourself to make sure you are not dreaming.Â
âYour dad called my dad,â Hyunjin says, his voice very light and casual, like he is picking up a conversation you paused an hour ago and not years ago. âHe thought you needed company so you wouldnât try running away off or something. So here I am. Ta-daaa. Company.âÂ
Security shuffles past the kitchen. Hyunjin pauses, listening to the scuttle of their booted feet. When the din quiets, he smiles at you again. It does not reach his eyes.Â
âHyunjin,â you whisper, laying the knife down. âWhat on earth is happening? Why are you here right now?â
Voices, laughter, the team in the other room. You and Hyunjin look at the door. His smile droops and he leans closer when he says, âSomewhere quieter please.âÂ
You are still in something of a daze when you lead Hyunjin downstairs to the gym. A guard departs after giving the room a sweep, as if anyone or anything could have gotten down here with all the security.
Then it is just you and Hyunjin.Â
Hyunjin crosses the room, taking in the space and equipment. He whistles long and low while shaking his head. It makes you laugh despite everything.Â
âNo, no, itâs nice,â Hyunjin teases. âI never saw this room before. But I always remembered your house was very small and understated.â
Itâs a joke but you cannot force a laugh because his reminiscence sends you hurtling through your own memories. He turns and you see a younger version of him, just for a moment, beaming and bright. Hyunjin used to be the hopeful one, the person with a plan and ambition. He believed there was more to life and he believed he could achieve it. He was so certain that it sparked a flicker of hope in you. Now your flame is an inferno but there is no light or fire behind his eyes. He is so cold that it is hard to believe there was ever a flame.Â
âHyunjin,â you say, imploringly. âWhat happened?âÂ
âA lot,â he says. He puts his hands in his pockets like he feels at ease, but his eyes keep darting around the room, betraying his discomfort. Â
Though your friendship was short, it was substantial. You know him. Right now he is labouring beneath the weight of his performance, his charming expressions crooked, like poorly fitted clothes.   He looks like an uncanny duplicate of the boy you once knew.Â
You step closer to him. He does not move, frozen in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets.  When he eventually looks at you, it is with a slow lift of the head. You swear you can see a curtain drawing across his face as it happens. This close, you realize just how pale and wan he looks. He is grey at the edges, like he is fading away before your very eyes.Â
âHyunjin,â you say, instinctively reaching out. He flinches away from your touch, then tries to smile like it didnât happen. You do not hide your distress.Â
He finally drops the pleasant façade. His hands fall out of his pockets and swing at his sides. His countenance is even colder, his striking features sharper than ever as he levels you with a venomous stare.Â
âDonât pity me,â he says. âI canât stand it. I made my choices and Iâm living with the consequences.âÂ
âConsequences?â you ask. âDid they catch you trying toââ
 âI never left,â he says. âI never even tried. I was close. I had a whole plan. A way to start over. But then...â He turns without any warning and walks to the mirror wall where he looks at himself. His hand hovers in the air, fingers curling. âI met someone,â he says. âAnd he wasnât who I thought he was.âÂ
When he does not elaborate, you step closer. You reach out to touch his shoulder, a consolation on the tip of your tongue. Before your touch even lands, he spins around and looks right at you.Â
âIt turns out he was working for my father,â Hyunjin says.  He speaks in a plain tone, conveying facts without any unnecessary sentiment, but you can see the red in his eyes as he strains to hold back emotion. âIt was my fault for being so stupid. With the way things were going, I should have seen it coming. There is no such thing as selfless love. Everyone serves themselves in the end and I was stupid to compromise my well-being for someone else. I deserved the betrayal.âÂ
âThatâs not true,â you say without hesitation. He is talking about someone else but his words feel like a slap against your friendship too.  You grab his hand like you can squeeze sense back into him. âIâm so sorry you were hurt,â you say. âBut you canât honestly thinkââ
âHurt.â He chokes on the word and rips his hand back. âIt nearly killed me. I wish it killed me. I wish I was anywhere but here. But I am stuck here because of my stupid feelings. Everyone has a weakness waiting to be exploited and you canât trust anyone not to take advantage of yours.â
It sounds so much like your father that you stumble back. It resonates with a heavy slam against your ribs and the heart beating inside them.  That heart feels so wrung out these days, swollen with so much love one second then shrivelled with pain the next. It throbs now. You are hurt just witnessing his pain. He has been betrayed and broken and he is unreachable in his grief. You can only imagine what he has endured to end up back here, in this house, with you.Â
You cannot blame him for guarding himself, but your combative side rears its stubborn head.
âThere are good people,â you say. âThere are people that can be trusted. You can trust me, after all.âÂ
âI donât know that,â he says. âWe donât know each other anymore.âÂ
âThat is definitely not true,â you say. You and Hyunjin clicked so well because your circumstances were so similar, your fears and pain the same. âWe know each other perfectly, Hyunjin,â you say.Â
He looks away, blinking rapidly. His shoulders hunch. It looks so wrong for a man like him to curl in on himself in shame.Â
âFine,â he says. âOne person. It doesnât make a difference.â
âOne person makes all the difference,â you say. âRemember Minho?âÂ
That one really makes him flinch. You are pretty sure a slap would hurt less.Â
âAnd Felix,â he says, his voice softer now. He scrunches his eyes shut like he can stop his pain with enough concentration. He pushes through and says, âHe works for your father, doesnât he? I remember him at that party. He was with the security team.âÂ
âYes,â you admit. âHe works for him. In a way.âÂ
âAnd you still trust him?â Hyunjin laughs. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. âThatâs just stupidity.â
âIt is not.â
âHe works for your father and takes his money and you still trust him not to betray you? Thatâs stupid.âÂ
âItâs not.â Frustration bubbles inside you. You want to grab him and shake him around, like you can sift through and find the real Hyunjin underneath all this. âI know I can trust him completely.â
âYou canât possibly know that for sure,â he says. âHeâll betray you for the right price. Everyone has a price. You donât think thereâs something heâd trade you for?âÂ
That does sting, if only infinitesimally, as you recall Felix and his conflicting desires. But you do not begrudge Felix for his life choices. He was an impressionable boy, raised to follow orders with no thoughts of his own. It made him wise in some ways and naĂŻve in others. He fell into a bad bargain with a scheming man and found himself trapped. He was forced to make difficult decisions. It was not about choosing you or Chris.  You would never make it about that. Â
âFelix loves me,â you say. âAnd I love him.  Youâre right. There are things he wants desperately. But he doesnât have to trade me for it. He knows I would surrender myself willingly to see him happy. Just like I know, no matter what else happens, he will always come back for me.  No matter where they hide me. No matter where I hide myself.  No matter what men like my father do to him. We choose each other.âÂ
âEveryone breaks,â Hyunjin says weakly. âNo oneâs that strong.âÂ
âNot on their own, maybe,â you say. âWeâre not alone.âÂ
There was so much ice in his feigned arrogance that you are startled when Hyunjin starts crying. He covers his face with his hands. His shoulders shake and his breath hitches.Â
âHyunjin,â you say, your own voice breaking. You rush up to him in a flustered hurry. You touch his head and his shoulders, trying to peer at him through his fingers. âHyunjin, talk to me, please,â you beg. âSomething else is wrong, isnât it? Hyunjin, why are you here? Where are your parents? Why did my father call yours?â
âMy parents are dead,â he barely manages to speak, gasping between his hiccupping cries. âItâs just me.  They came for me and my father was difficult, he asked for too much, and theyâ and Iââ
âThey?â you say.Â
It is then you see it. You are clutching his shoulder and it tugs at his blazer. A shirt button pops open and your eyes drop to the exposed bruises across his collarbone. You blink in disbelief at the horrible mosaic beaten into his skin, angry welts of red and purple and yellow. It seems to go all the way down his chest. When you part the material of his shirt, something else catches your eye.Â
You freeze.
âOh,â you say. âHyunjin.âÂ
He is wired. Someone is listening. Your father is listening.Â
You stop breathing for a moment. The world gets quiet. You look at Hyunjin. An old friend showing up at your house out of nowhere, presented like an offering. Jisung was not important enough for your father to remember, but Hyunjin is a different matter. He is rich if not wealthy. His parents were upwardly mobile, his father the kind of pathetic rich man who thought he was equal to a man like your father. Willing to do awful things to his own son to keep him in his clutches, then selling him to the highest bidder if it meant advancement. His only mistake was asking for too much when he was ultimately expendable. There are always more where he came from.Â
You want to be wrong. Your father is a busy man. He would not waste time finding Hyunjin and putting him through so much just for this, just to corner you into a confession. But you know he did. This is exactly what he would do. He moves like a coward, killing civilians and poisoning innocent boys, then he makes a show of throwing it in your face.Â
He always told you friendship was beneath you. What a way to prove it.Â
âI think youâve fallen in with a bad crowd,â you say, forcing a laugh through the gathering tears.Â
âIâm so sorry,â he says, a tearful whisper. He touches your arms like he wants to hug you, but holds himself back.Â
âMe too,â you say. You warned him a long time ago that befriending you was dangerous. You wish you had been wrong.Â
You pull him into a hug and he immediately envelopes you, his arms around your shoulders and yours around his waist.  He chokes out a sob and squeezes you so tight that your breath catches. Then he just holds you there.Â
You do not know if it is his cologne or his shampoo, but it smells so familiar. It takes you back to that treehouse, looking over a glittering neighbourhood as the sun set and he dreamed about the dawn.Â
âI still remember that rhyme, you know,â you say. The address of that cabin, written in a rhyming lilt that you never forgot. âIf you ever have a chance again⊠promise me youâll tryâŠâÂ
He chokes out another sob.Â
âHow can you still care about what happens to me?â he asks. âWhat about you?âÂ
âIâll be fine,â you say. It is spoken calmly, for all that it is a lie. âPromise me?â
He just nods, then pulls you closer again.Â
You cling to him for as long as you can. It gives you the strength to stay upright despite your shaking legs, even when you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. You brace yourself for the worst, halfway expecting the whole house to erupt in a violent explosion.Â
It is just a guard. He says, âTime to go, Hwang. Visitâs over.âÂ
You want to keep hugging. You feel like you will fall through the floor if he lets you go. He is just as reluctant, but withdraws when the guard steps into the room.  He does not look at you as he leaves, head down as he trails towards the stairs.Â
âGoodbye, Hyunjin,â you say.Â
It stops him for a moment. He nods then continues. There is nowhere else to go but back up those stairs.Â
You are left standing by yourself in the middle of the room. The mirror wall makes the space feel never-ending. You look at your reflection. You look so rough already, scarred from your kidnapping, tear-streaked from crying. Your hands tremble uncontrollably. You remember a younger version of yourself sitting in front of this mirror with Felix, for a moment feeling like a normal girl with her boy. His touch brought you to life. He made you feels things you thought you would never feel.Â
It will be your own voice your father plays back to you, your own confession betraying you.Â
You will not be sorry for it. Â
You look at yourself and wipe your face. You take a breath. You walk to the stairs, one step after another. There are guards upstairs but they pay you no mind. They have clearly received no orders, not yet. You could try to make a run for it, but you would not get far on your own.Â
Instead, you go upstairs to your room. You look around like it is the last time you will ever see it. You know that is not true, logically. Your father will not kill you, but there are fates just as devastating.Â
You walk through the room. It is plainly decorated with a mix of things owned by you and Felix. For all that this house is not a home, you carved a shared space in this room.  You sit on the bed and study everything from discarded clothes to books to computer parts.Â
Something compels you to open the drawer on his side of the bed, that same single drawer you allotted when he first moved in. A ragged old beanie sits at the bottom of it, the first thing he ever owned. You fold it over in your hand and squeeze it like a talisman, like it will infuse you with some magic to endure whatever storm is blowing your way.Â
You cross the room and touch a few more things. You find some university textbooks and your heart aches with the desire to return to those times. You lived a fleeting few years like you were completely free, in love and happy and home.Â
You will probably never see Seungmin or Jeongin again, but it brings you some peace to know they will live good lives. You will never forget their willingness to intervene on your behalf despite the odds being so stacked against them. Maybe they were not very good at it, smacking chairs and throwing drinks, but you will remember them fondly. You wish you could say goodbye.Â
With that thought, you pause. Your gaze drifts to your computer.Â
You cannot say goodbye to Seungmin or Jeongin, but you can say goodbye to someone else.Â
You never wanted to risk contacting Jisung from home, just in case your father was found out. But everything is ending today, one way or another. There is nothing more you can lose.  You will take some comfort in a final word to an old friend before you are sealed in this gilded mausoleum.
You sit at your computer. You log into the blank profile you made some time ago. It is hard to tell if you are nervous because your stomach is so twisted in knots already, but you think there might be some happy anticipation.  You try to manage your expectations because there is a chance Jisung did not read the messages, seeing as they came from a blank account.Â
You should have known better than to doubt him. You log in to several new messages, laughing from the first line.
OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! ITâS YOU????? MY GIRL!!!!!!!
Okay sorry about that I am totally so cool I promise. Iâm just in shock.
I know you told me not to, but just so you know, I spent a year trying to reach you...Â
Well, actually, I spent like four months crying my eyes out and being miserable and pathetic first.. On god, I eyed a jar of peanut butter with some serious thought for a minute there!!! But then no, no way. I had to keep going.Â
I tried to find you. Your bitch ass dad is famous because heâs an ugly rich loser so his properties are listed all over a million websites. I found the one in town where you must live and I rode my bike there a bunch of times but uhhhhh yeah much to my eternal disappointment I am not James Bond and that security system was insane. Donât even get me started on when all the dudes in the army gear kept showing up.
On an unrelated note itâs way harder to buy explosives than youâd think.Â
Just want you to know I did try to get in there. You were never alone even if you felt like it.Â
But it sounds like youâre not alone anyway HELLLL YEAHHHHH she is getting SOOOME. All jokes aside I am crazy happy for you. You deserve it for real. He better be treating you right though or I WILL find a way through that gate and I WILL kick his ass. Just say the word and I will be there in a heartbeat.Â
He goes on for a while, the whole length of his message making you smile. When you did not respond, he sent a few more, spaced further and further apart from each other.  The last message he sent was just a few days ago.
Hey I donât know if youâre getting these. I like to think so. You donât have to answer if you are. I know you are in a dangerous spot. Or maybe youâre not anymore and you got out. In that case, I hope you never read these. I hope youâre out there living your best life. Maybe weâll cross paths again but if not, I count myself lucky for knowing you at all. I think weâre both slightly insane and everyone else I meet is way too normal haha.Â
What Iâm trying to say is I miss you like crazy. I hope we can laugh together again someday. Even if we never do, letâs say we will.  Keep smiling till Iâm there. Catch ya later crazy girl.
You smile.  Then emotion takes over, tears returning as you lay your hands on the keyboard to type a response.Â
You have just hit send when there is a knock at your door, then it is opened without your permission. You turn and look at the stoic guard who beckons you forward.Â
âYour father is home,â he says. âHe wants a word.âÂ
You nod. You spare one last look at you screen before logging out and shutting down. You are certain it is the last message you will get to send.  A warmth fills your chest regardless. You know it will reach Jisung. His laughter and energy fills you with the strength you need to walk steadily out that door and down the hall.
-
Hi Jisungie.Â
Thank you for your messages. I just read them all now. It wasnât easy for me to check them before, but I did it today because it might be the last time I have an opportunity to do so. My father found out about my love affair and seeing as it was with the one person he could not afford to lose, I have no doubt that a reckoning is on its way. I thought he was bad before, but he has only gotten worse over the years. I am sure this betrayal will put him over the edge.
I do not know what is going to happen. I was scared until I read your messages. They truly made me smile.  You have always made me a little braver. I think I got less rebellious over the years because I got scared, but now⊠The worst has happened and Iâm still here.Â
I will figure it out. But in case I never get the chance to talk to you again, I just wanted to say thank you one more time. I miss you too, Jisungie. I think about you so much. I wish I could laugh with you again, the kind of laughter where nothing is all that funny but we canât stop anyway. Thank you for the times we did.Â
I am happy to have lived my life because I knew you. I appreciate all the good times so much more because of the hard times. You were a one-of-a-kind friend.  Iâd do it all again in a heartbeat.
Keep smiling for me.  Â
Goodbye.Â
-
Your father is behind his desk.Â
There is no one else in the room. They close the door behind you. You walk calmly up to the desk and take a seat in your usual spot. You sit as straight as you can, perched on the edge of the seat. You are still lower than him, but you feel bigger and stronger than you have ever felt in your life.Â
Your father draws out the silence, perhaps waiting for you to break down. You stare at each other. When he opens his mouth to speak, you interrupt him. You are uninterested in games and dramatic embellishments, which you know he will indulge. You simply ask, âWhat did you do to Hyunjin?âÂ
âI would not worry about the Hwang boy if I was you,â your father says spitefully. âYou have bigger concernsââ
âAnd yet I am asking about him,â you snap. âWhat are you doing with him?â
âWhat I do with everything when it is no longer useful to me,â he says.
It is the answer you were expecting but it still draws your rage like a magnet. It punches out of you, your eyes wet with tears when you say, âYouâre pathetic.â
âHow many times must you suffer humiliation at my enemyâs hands before you understand that none of this is a game?â His voice rises as he speaks. âDo you want to be out on the streets? Do you want to be brutalized?  Do you wantââ
âI would rather die rotting in the sewers with Felix than spend even one more minute under your roof,â you say.
You wonder what surprises your father more: the vicious tone or your blatant confession. It stuns him into silence. You know you have disrupted his script. There is little sense in taunting you with your words if you utter them plainly before he can try.Â
âI see,â your father settles on saying. He presses a button on his desk and the buzzer in the corridor resounds. âLetâs put that to the test, shall we?â
The door opens and several guards usher inside. You spare them a fleeting glance before your attention narrows to the figure between them.Â
âFelix!â You stand but cannot reach him. He is surrounded by guards and they will not let you touch a hair on his head.Â
He moves like he is completely boneless, evidently drugged with something to make him bleary and slow. He thumps heavily onto his knees when they put him there. His eyes are hazy as he looks around the office.  They pause on you, flicking up and down, then he smiles through the pain.Â
The pain. It is not just a drug. He looks like he went a few rounds with a cement wall, his lip split and his jaw bruised. His bandaged hand is soaked through with blood, the rest him as battered. His injuries disappear beneath his shirt and pants but you know it is not a pretty sight. You swallow down the bile in your throat before looking at your father.Â
âHeâs your best asset,â you say. âYou canât lose him.âÂ
âOh?  Canât I?â your father asks. âCanât I? Canât I? You think you know something? You think you can tell me what to do? You, when all you do is destroy what I make? I give you everything and thisâthis is how youââ His yelling sharpens to a shriek before he starts breaking things. It pulls Felix further out of his haze, his eyes tracking the frantic movements as your father smashes a vase near your feet.Â
You think about that tiny shard of glass from last time, the miniscule thing that started it all.  It makes you laugh even though nothing is funny. Laughter is an emotional output just like crying, so it pours out of you with no regard for the actual gravity of the situation.Â
It only worsens your fatherâs rage.Â
âDoes something here amuse you?â he asks, but you are laughing too hard to answer. There is a vein throbbing in his forehead and you imagine it bursting. You imagine all your problems solving themselves as he drops dead from his own rage.   The image is even funnier because you truly cannot imagine this man dying. He is a monster. If you stab him, you fear he will just mutate and come back worse.Â
âYou want to laugh?â he snaps. He crosses the room to Felix. âLaugh.âÂ
He holds out his hand and someone places a gun in his open palm. This snaps you out of your delirious giggles, a winded whoosh spilling out of you. Â
Your father does not execute action himself. He always puts the gun in someone elseâs hand. The fact he is pointing it at Felix should tell you that his threat is not serious.Â
But he has never been this furious, his anger a white hot cascade of fire. Felix is just inches from the barrel of the gun. Even an inexpert marksmen like your father could drive a bullet between his eyes.Â
So the moment he grips the weapon, you shout, âStop!âÂ
Your father looks at you with a cock of his head, satisfied with your reaction.Â
Then he jumps back because Felix rushes to his feet, most of the fog dissipated. Your fatherâs stupid men did not think for a moment that Felix would repeat a strategy. Just days before he allowed himself to be captured so he could rescue you. It seems he has done that again, feigning the depth of his condition. He swings to his feet and kicks out.Â
His injuries restrict his movement. He is good at ignoring pain but his body overrides his consciousness. He fights nonetheless, struggling with the guards while you watch.Â
You look around for something that can help. You snatch a paper weight off the desk  and prepare to throw.Â
Your father is a step ahead of you. Suddenly you are staring down the barrel of a gun, your father on the other end, fuming.Â
âNoâ!â Felix says before he is beaten down. With his attention diverted, a guard kicks the back of his legs. His knees buckle and he goes down with a groan.Â
You look at him then flick your eyes back to your father. You raise both hands and lift a challenging eyebrow.Â
âYou want to do this?â you ask. âReally? After everything?â
âAfter everything,â your father says. âExactly my words. A house, an education, unending protection. You want for nothing. All I ask in return is obedience and you cannot even grant me that. You have the audacity to betray me for this animal.â He waves the gun around like the clumsy, ungainly thing he is. It makes a few heads duck, including yourself. You fear this man will kill someone without even trying. It makes it hard to listen, which might be for the best, as he goes on a long tirade about privilege and position and loyalty.Â
He starts merely angry but it turns downright diabolical.Â
âAnd you.â He turns to Felix. âI dug you out of Mirohâs gutter! I made you a bargain! I gave your meaningless life purpose! You are nothing without me. How dare you think to take what is mine. How dare you think you are anything more than a dog. How long have you kept this secret? How am I supposed to trust it is the last? You are a liar. For all I know you are lying about everything. Is that it? Are you a spy, feeding reports back to Miroh? Is that why I can never succeed in my missions? Have you beenââÂ
Felix bursts into laughter. His face scrunches with delight, his cheeks dimpled. The low rumble of his laughing voice sounds real, honest amusement at the proclamation. It fades to a sigh, then he looks up.
You have never seen such a dark glare shadow his features, made all the more horrifying thanks to his bloody injuries. It makes your stomach drop even though it is not directed at you.Â
âYou fail at all your missions because youâre an incompetent idiot,â Felix says. âYou couldnât even control two children. What makes you think you can control Miroh?â
âHave you forgotten our bargain?â your father yells, waving the gun towards Felix again. âYou lie and trick your way into my household and still expectââ
âOur bargain,â Felix spits the word and some blood sprays out. He spits the rest on the floor and shakes his head. âI know heâs dead. You killed him a long time ago.â  Â
The room is quiet for a moment. Your father is still holding the gun, though it dangles at his side. He and Felix stare each other down. Although Felix is kneeling, his sinister stare is far more terrifying than your fatherâs blank gaze. But then that empty gaze turns cold and your father smiles, one of those sharp smiles that opens like a slash across his face.Â
âNow how would you know that,â your father says, âif you are not a spy for Miroh?â
âOne of Mirohâs men told us at the warehouse,â you interrupt. It earns you nothing but a wrathful glare from your father. He gestures to you and a guard puts a threatening hand on your shoulder.Â
âYou will speak when spoken to,â your father snaps. He looks at Felix again. âOh. Yes.  You. Whoops.  I very nearly forgot, it was so long ago when I killed your friend. Does that make you sad? Poor little boy. You should have remembered your place.  Your kind are born to die for men like me.â
âMen like you,â Felix says. Mourning will have to wait so he laughs because he cannot cry. âYouâre pathetic. Not a surprise, though, yeah? Since your father took care of everything before I killed himâoh. Whoops.â He tilts his head and smiles, speaking with the same saccharine tone your father just used to mock him. âIt was so long ago. I almost forgot I shot your daddy in the fucking head. Does that make you sad? Poor little boy. You should have remembered your place and stayed behind your walls. Youâll never be a man like him.âÂ
Your father has never looked so stricken. You did not even know his face could contort such a way.  It makes him look very human for the few heartbeats that it lingers. You can almost picture a younger version of your father, breaking under the fist of his father before him. Â
Then he schools himself. Once more, the untouchable monster stands before you. The gun wobbles only a little when he raises it, taking aim at Felix.Â
âStop!â you shout. You were just picturing the passing of generations, so maybe that explains why your panicked brain compels you to blurt, âYou canât kill him! Iâm pregnant!âÂ
This time every head in the room swivels towards you. Even the other guards do not hide their surprise. Your father stares, jaw agape, and Felix looks just as bewildered. You feel bad because you can see thought flickering behind his eyes, wondering if maybe you are telling the truth. It makes his face change, pain flashing. Panic seeps into his veins.Â
âExcuse me?â your father says.Â
You almost trip on the chair. Your knees knock and your voice shakes when you say, âYou heard me.âÂ
âI know what I heard.â At least it succeeds in garnering your fatherâs attention. He forgets about Felix entirely as he stalks towards you, gun clutched in his undoubtedly sweaty hand. âMy problem lies in understanding how this can be.â
âWell,â you say slowly. âI canât imagine you really want me to explain thatââ
You father backhands you across the face. You careen into his desk, barely catching yourself.Â
âIt could work in my favour yet,â your father says. âStart fresh. Fix where I went wrong with you. Because you are an irredeemable and entirely lost cause.âÂ
This baby is not even real yet you panic at the thought. It unspools an infinite and horrifying future, this house an eternal monstrosity birthing a new generation of tyrant and monster. Hurting and contorting everyone in the family name for the sake of maintaining that vast estate. Â
This has to stop.Â
âOf course I am,â you say. You take a long, steadying breath, then you push yourself upright. You turn to your father and meet his gaze, aware of the gun but feigning complete nonchalance. âI canât believe it has taken you this long to realize it,â you say. âYou lost me a long, long time ago. You want to control everything because youâre scared of losing anything. But youâve already lost what you were trying so hard to protect and you can never, ever get it back. I will not continue what your father started. I will not be what you have become. I am not like you and I am proud of that.  I am proud that I love my friends, and Felix, despite how much you tried to stop me. But I am me and I am not scared.âÂ
You dive at him, a vicious tackle spurred by that hurricane of emotion inside you. You tackle him so quickly that it takes the guards a second to react. The gun clatters to the floor as it flies out of his hand. He throws up his fists to protect his face when you swing down with all your might. What you lack in physical strength you compensate with drive, slamming your fists down without care for where they land, again and again and again.Â
Then someone grabs you by the collar and yanks. It is one of the guards, pulling you to your feet. Your father shrieks and hollers like a wounded dog, snarling and frothing like one too. He gets to his feet and swings at you.Â
Felix rises, struggling to reach you.  You stretch out your hand, your fingertips touching before you are yanked apart from each other. You cry out, struggling in the guardâs death grip to no avail.  Felix is fighting the other guards but his injuries put him at a disadvantage.Â
You are dragged away from the chaos. Your father picks up the discarded gun on his way.Â
âTake her outside!â he shouts at the guard, then turns to the mess in his office. âDonât waste your energy. Shoot the boy.â
âNo!â you scream, so guttural you hardly recognize the sound. You cry as gunshots ring in the office, but you lose sight of the skirmish as you are dragged, kicking and screaming, down the stairs and out the front door.Â
You curse at your father and the guard, bits of your shirt ripping when you fight to escape. You are smacked and twisted, your shoulder popping so painfully that it makes you wail.Â
âStop it, stop it!â You are fully sobbing, either from pain or panic. It does no good as you are dragged into the night. The grand driveway is lit like a stage awaiting players, lamps and towers beaming over the pavement. The gate opens to the street beyond. It is pitch black. There are no other houses on this hillside, the estate sprawling across its expanse, so there are no streetlights.  A black car is parked on the curb.  It feels like a chariot to the underworld, black and swallowed by shadow. You are as good as dead. Felix might be truly dead.Â
You struggle some more but you are in so much pain. Your father is shouting directions at the guard and it splits his attention. His grip loosens and you successfully break free.Â
You do not hesitate. You run into the street, straight through the pitch black. If you run far enough, you will eventually reach a proper street leading into the city. You do not even care which direction you go. You just run, ignoring the screaming pain in your muscles as your feet hit the pavement.
A gunshot pierces the quiet night. You stumble to a stop, throwing your hand up over your heart. You touch your chest, expecting to find a bloody wound. But there is nothing, not a single drop.  You were not shot.Â
You spin around and watch the guard fall to the ground, a bullet in his head. Your father turns too, holding his own gun at the approaching figure.Â
Your knees almost buckle as relief washes over you, Felix storming down the driveway with a gun of his own raised at your father. Felix is badly wounded, but even at his worst he is a far better shot than your father. They both know it too, staring each other down as Felix gets closer and closer.Â
âStop where you are!â your father screams, his voice breaking.Â
Felix ignores him, gun still raised. Your father fires a shot that goes wide. Felix does not even blink as it ricochets off a wall. He walks calmly to the sidewalk where your father stands. He does not smirk or gloat. He just looks at the frightened man who terrorized the world to make himself feel better, and he lines up a shot.Â
Felix pulls the trigger.Â
Nothing happens.Â
His brow furrows before his face twists with fury. The gun has jammed or itâs out of bullets, but either way it is useless. He lowers his arm, the gun dangling from his hand as he stares at your father.
Your father just laughs, a ridiculous and semi-hysterical laugh as he stumbles back but never lowers the gun. Felix is much closer now.  Even your father could not miss this shot. Â
Felix drops his gun and smiles weakly.Â
âSheâs funny, you know,â Felix says. âAnd smarter than anyone I know. She picks up on things everyone else misses. Itâs too bad you canât see it. But then, youâre not like her.âÂ
âShut up,â your father snaps. âYou have exceeded your uses, boy.âÂ
You realize you are running. Even before the conscious thought reaches your mind, your body spurs you into action. Instinct commandeers control and you hand yourself over to it.  Felix looks up just as you emerge from the dark. He sees your face for a split second, enough time for him to realize what you are doing and shout, âStop!â
Your fatherâs finger is already on the trigger. A shot rings out and this time it does hit you, sharp and searing as you dive in front of Felix.Â
The gun hits the ground. Your father looks at you with petrified eyes. Felix catches you, supporting your weight as he sinks to his knees with you in his arms.Â
âSweetheart,â he says, touching your face, your neck, your chest. âSweetheart, look at me. Stay with me.âÂ
The pain is excruciating, like nothing you have ever felt before. You cannot even tell where it is coming from. It feels like your neck and shoulder and heart all at once. It radiates and burns. The pain is so overwhelming that you do not notice the wet, tacky feeling of blood. You see it before you feel it, all over Felixâs fingers as he finds the bullet wound in your shoulder.Â
âItâs okay,â he says, barely more than a gasp. His chest is rising and falling rapidly. You scream in agony when he grabs your shoulder and squeezes it hard in his fist. âI know, I know,â he says. âIt exited clean. Thereâs nothing vital there. Youâll be okay, sweetheart, I got you. I just have to staunch the blood. We just have toââ His voice breaks on a sob and he looks up at your father, his hand covered in your blood and his rage as red on his face. âWe have to get her help. Now.â Â
Your fatherâs response is to pick up the gun. He nearly drops it, his shaking hands clammy, but he gets an unsteady grip eventually. He points it at Felix again. Â
âAre you fucking serious?â  Felix shouts in aggravation. âYour daughter is going to bleed to death if you donât do something. Put the fucking gun down!â
âGet away from her,â your father says. âGet away from her and put your hands up. Iâll get her help.âÂ
âNo,â you say, shaking your head then crying when pain lances down your neck. âNo, Felix. Donât.âÂ
Your father will not take another shot at Felix, not with you in his arms. Your father might want to control you, but he does not want you dead. You are the only thing that is protecting Felix now. If he moves, he dies.Â
âDonât go,â you beg. âFelix, please.â
âIâm not going anywhere, sweetheart,â Felix says. He looks up at your father, venom in his voice as he asks, âAre you really going to stand there and let your daughter die?âÂ
âAre you going sit there and let her die?â your father retorts. âGet away from her and I will save her.âÂ
You feel Felix twitch. He presses his fingers a little harder, stopping a rush of blood. It makes you weep and you plead, âFelix no. Please. I canât watch that. Iâd rather it end like this.â
âDonât say that.â Felix looks down at you. His bloody hand is shaking, tears spilling down his cheeks as he looks at you. âNothingâs ending. Youâre gonna be fine.âÂ
âIt never ends,â your father babbles. He almost drops the gun when he trips over the lip of the sidewalk, stumbling backwards into the street as he stares at you. You stare back, wondering if it is your blurry vision or if he is really crying. All you can see is him wiping his face, the gun trembling in his hand. âIt just keeps going,â he says. âOnly I can end it.âÂ
He is taking aim again. You cannot tell if he is aiming for you or Felix, maybe some half-baked delirious plan in his twisted mind to put you out of your misery and take Felix with you.Â
Felix does not have time to attack. He can only curl his body around yours to protect you from the shot.Â
Then a beam of light shatters the dark. It flies up the street, illuminating your father. He looks in that direction. Everyone is drowning in their sobs and it is all so loud that it takes a second to hear it: the heavy, growling drone of a speeding car, hurtling ever closer. The white of a high-beam headlight blinds your father with lightning hot intensity.Â
It is the last thing he ever sees.Â
Felix is as startled as you. You both cry out in horrified shock. He blocks your body to shield you from the sudden and unexpected gore. Noiseless convulsions tremble through your whole body as you stare up at Felix, not understanding what just happened.Â
You both look over as the car rapidly reverses, disappearing just as quickly as it came. In its wake is your father, or what remains of him. Â
Just like that, the whole world tilts on its axis.
You cannot comprehend what you are seeing. This man was a towering, nightmarish monstrosity, bigger than life and death, holding the world in his fist. Even he desperately believed in his own mythology. It seems impossible that he could be that nightmare but also be this, a broken and very human body, muscle and gristle and protruding bone, half flattened to the tarmac. A sudden and entirely undignified death, comically animal, and as lowly as everything he ever disparaged. Â
You and Felix stare at him, at the mess of his ruined dead body on the dark street. It is so, so quiet. The house is so still. The street is empty. You can hear the soft buzz of the floodlights.Â
You make a hurt noise. Felix looks down with a perplexed shake of his head. But he only has a moment to mind you, his mouth open with some unspoken thought, when you hear the car again.Â
You both look over, your heart racing and your blood spilling over his hand. He is wearing his most determined face, braced to face an adversary.Â
You do not know who to anticipate. It makes no sense for Miroh to be here. He would not have known anything unusual was transpiring at this house tonight. How could he know to send someone? Yet it is the only thing that makes sense. The only person who could have taken down someone like your father would be someone just like him.Â
You are braced for the worst when the car comes to a stop. The dead body looks more grotesque as the headlights flash over it.Â
The driver does not turn off the engine. You hear the patter of frantic footsteps before the silhouette is illuminated by the car lights. Wide eyes meet yours and your heart stutters. Your tears are halted by the face staring back at you.Â
âOh my god,â Jisung says. âThat was the bad guy, right?âÂ
Felix reacts first, a bark of laughter made in disbelief as he stares at your startled best friend.Â
Han Jisung is both the same and different, with a flop of dark hair and big brown eyes, but years have passed, leaving him bulkier and more mature. He pushes a pair of glasses up his nose, the wide frames only exaggerating his eyes, making it very easy to hold his gaze when he looks at you.Â
âJisung,â you say, and start crying all over again. âJisung.â You cannot seem to find another word. You just gasp his name between sobs.
Jisung practically flies towards you, landing on his knees.Â
âHey, stranger,â he says, carefully touching your cheek. âYouâve looked better, Iâm not gonna lie.âÂ
You laugh even though it hurts, reaching for him with a shaking hand. He takes it despite it being sticky with blood, cupping it safely in his own.Â
âYouâre here,â you say. âHow? Why?âÂ
âOf course Iâm here,â he replies in a soft voice. âI got in my car as soon as I saw that goodbye message.â He gently squeezes your hand. âYou didnât think Iâd let you get away twice, did you?â      Â
Your laugh is more of a sob, in too much pain to truly smile. Felix asks Jisung to help, showing him where to apply pressure. Jisung complies, holding you while Felix tugs off his shirt. It leaves him in a tank top, all his scars and bruises on display. You want to fuss over him too but he gives you no opportunity to linger, using his shirt as a makeshift tourniquet for your wound.Â
âSo your boyfriend is Felix,â Jisung says while he works. âThatâs great. I was rooting for you two crazy kids. Felix had a pretty obvious crush on you in high school.  I didnât say anything because you kinda seemed to hate his guts but I guess thatâs not true anymore.  You had some bigger bastards to hate. Speaking of, that was your dad I got right? I mean, I didnât even think, I just saw him waving that gun around and I hit the pedal. Next thing I knewâohhh shit, Felix, youâre really strong, what the fuck, man. Have you been working outââÂ
Felix scoops you into his arms and stands. His usual unwavering strength falters just a little, his injuries protesting his action. You tell him to put you down because it will do no good for you both to collapse. Jisung stands and helps steady you. They both lay a hand on your back, taking some of your weight as your feet touch the ground and you wobble.Â
âThatâs my girl,â Jisung says.  âOh man, thatâs a lot of blood, ha ha ha â AHH. No, itâs fine, weâre okay. Carefulââ
âJisung,â Felix says, looking past you to meet his eye. âAre you okay?â
A more than fair question considering how fast everything just happened. Jisung stops rambling and takes a few deep breaths before he answers.Â
âOkay, yeah,â he says. âTotally fine. For now.âÂ
âOkay,â Felix says. âBecause I need you to take her while Iââ
Your ignore their conversation. Your eyes are on your father. You cannot even call it his body; it is a carcass. His lower half is gored but his face is mostly whole. You half-expect his mouth to open with a wailing shout.   You are so distracted with the thought, you misstep and your weak ankles give out. You are spared a kiss with the pavement when Jisung catches you. It is a haphazard embrace, throwing his arms around you to keep you upright.Â
âCan you take care of her until I get back?â Felix asks.Â
âUh-huh. Yes,â Jisung says. He puts his growing bulk to use and lifts you into his arms, bridal style. You cannot move your shoulder to lift your arms around him, but you rest your head in the curve of his neck as he carries you to his car.Â
His car.  Hysterical giggles bubble inside you, quashed only by the physical ache of your body. Han Jisung really raced back into your life and annihilated the worst of your demons by driving right at him. Â
Years of nightmares and beatings and pain. Years of your father lording his power over you and the world. Years of believing he was terrifying and untouchable. Â
Jisung always said it was that easy. He was just a teenager, lookingat the impossible powers that surrounded his friend but believing whole-heartedly he could save her anyway. You argued and pushed him away, but he knew better all along. Jisung was not cowed by money and influence, not impressed or frightened by men like your father who ravaged the world and gloated about it. Jisung had no power or influence of his own but that didnât matter. He saw his friend was in a bad situation and he wanted to save you.  So he did.Â
He carefully rests you in the passenger seat. In the time it takes him to circle to the driverâs side, you break down crying. The pain exacerbates it, your body seeking release, but it is sentiment that pours out of your heart.Â
Jisung gets in, looking very startled. He adjusts his glasses.Â
âDid it get worse?â he asks, reaching for you with a bloody hand. You look at it, you look at him, very literally stained with blood on your behalf. He is staying composed but you can see the jitters under his skin. He just killed someone for you. It might have been a panicked, spur of the moment decision, but the end result was the same. Even though your father was not a good man, taking a life is a serious burden.Â
And here he is, placing that weight aside so he can check on you.Â
âJisung,â you say. You wish your hands were not so dirty because you want to touch his face or hold his hand. You satisfy yourself with leaning towards him, touching your forehead to his cheek as you cry.Â
âHey, itâs okay,â Jisung says.  He shifts so your foreheads are touching, his clean hand cupping your cheek.  âI got you, okay? Itâs over now. Felix is gonna take care of it and Iâm gonna take care of you. Itâll be okay. Donât be scared, all right?â
âIâm not,â you say. âWhat did I do to deserve you?â
âYouâre my friend,â Jisung says. âYou donât have to do anything to deserve it, okay? Look. I know what will make you feel better.â He reaches past you into the glove compartment. You have no idea what he could possibly have in there that will make you feel better while bleeding out of a bullet wound in the passenger seat of his car, the same car he used to murder your abusive father.Â
He fishes around then pulls out a bag of spicy peanuts, the same flavour you used to eat all the time in high school. Even though he was allergic, he bought them whenever he found them, just because he knew you liked them.Â
You take them slowly, staring at the familiar packaging. You sniffle.  Â
âIt was always going to be you, wasnât it?â you say softly. You could cry all over again.  âYou really came back.â
Of course Jisung saved you. You realize now your father could never be bested by Miroh or someone like him. They would be locked in a perpetual stalemate, predicting each otherâs every step, giving and taking and killing in a circle of violence with no end. But Jisung is not like them.Â
Whether the gesture was big or small, whether it was peanuts or a rescue, it was selfless, and someone like your father would never understand that. He never saw it coming.Â
âWell, yeah,â Jisung says. âMy promise was forever, remember?â
You can only nod, bumping your heads together. Jisung wraps you in a hug then kisses your forehead before buckling in and taking the steering wheel.Â
âAll right,â he says. âWe can catch up after. Letâs get away from this place. Itâs giving me the creeps.âÂ
-
It is strange looking at your house on a news report. It makes you feel like you are watching someone elseâs life.Â
You are stitched and showered, sitting on the floor of a twin bed motel room. You are still damp from the shower but each little trickle feels like blood, your jittery fingers constantly swiping at your skin.Â
Jisung sits behind you on the bed, his legs bracketing you, double checking your stitches. Felix said it was paramount to avoid a hospital or any other institution that would identify you. He told Jisung to book a room at a motel on the highway and wait for him, that he would stitch you up himself when he arrived. Jisung took the initiative, boasting some first aid training for his job at the grocery store.Â
âUsually Iâm putting bandages on a cut finger,â Jisung said, hands covered in blood as he fixed your wound, âbut this is, uh, similar I guess. Sort of.âÂ
Felix arrived while you were in the shower. Now he is in there, cleaning himself and minding his own injuries while you and Jisung watch the evening news report.  The blinds are closed, rain pelting the canopy over the balcony, but you are tucked away from the storm, hidden from the world as it mourns you.Â
âA devastating house fire is believed to have left no survivors on the premises,â the reporter says, backdropped with a video of an inferno ravaging your fatherâs house.  âPolice are still investigating, but among the suspected dead is a prominent local businessman and his daughter.â They show a portrait of your father and an old yearbook photo of you.  That girl looks nothing like the battered woman you are now. You really do feel like you are watching someoneâs else story end.
âWow,â Jisung says, watching too. âHow does it feel to be dead?â
You rest your head against his knee, sighing as you stare at the television.Â
âIâm not dead,â you say, staring at the photo of you. That girl might be dead, but you are very alive.Â
Felix accidentally swings the bathroom door too hard, the thud like a gunshot in your mind. You jump a mile out of your skin, digging your nails into Jisungâs leg unthinkingly.Â
âAh ah ah ahââ Jisung grabs your wrist to pry you off.Â
âSorry,â Felix says, truly apologetic. He closes the door with a gentle click then approaches. He sits beside Jisung on the bed, laying his hand on your head and looking you over. âHow are you?â Felix asks.  He pays no mind to the news report but that is likely because he is responsible for the story they are broadcasting. You know Felix would tell you every detail if you asked, but you decide you do not want to know how he moved the bodies around. It is enough to see the walls of that place burning.Â
He packed a few things first. A stuffed duffel bag sits on the other bed. Perhaps it should feel daunting, that all you have left is a single bag of necessities, but it feels freeing. You are not burdened by the weight of more. Your hands might be shaking and you might be hurt in more ways than one, but you can exhale.Â
You take Felixâs hands and kiss his scraped knuckles.
âIâm fine,â you say. âWhat about you?â
âNothing I canât handle,â he says. He looks more tired than you have ever seen him, but he manages a laugh when you pout at him. âDonât do that,â he says, flicking your bottom lip. âJust some bad bruises, yeah? Iâll be fine.âÂ
You know he is not fine but you respect his desire for peace. Â You can check his injuries later when he has settled.Â
âWell then, what about you, Jisungie?â you ask. You turn around to face him. âHow are you?â
âUh, honestlyâŠâ Jisung rakes his fingers through his hair then exhales on a shaky laugh. âIâll let you know when I know. Itâs all a bitâuhââ Â
âYeah,â you say, taking his hand. âI know.âÂ
You suspect there will be no proper words for a while. You cannot even think of recovery while your wounds throb. There are still gunshots firing in your mind. When you close your eyes, you see a body on the pavement. You expect a knock at the door and a gun in your face, even though there is no reason for that. Miroh is probably sitting back and laughing at the detonation of your fatherâs house. Your fatherâs people and investors will scramble over the company tomorrow. That world will turn without you. You will not miss it.  Â
You struggle to sleep that night. You lay on your back to mind your shoulder but that is not your only grievance. Felix lays beside you where he belongs and Jisung is in the other bed, so you are not alone anymore, but your adrenaline will not dwindle. Now that you have a moment of peace, it feels more chaotic than ever.Â
When you start breathing harder, Felix wraps an arm around you.Â
âSweetheart,â he whispers. He does not ask what is wrong. It is more than self-explanatory. You do not need to speak.Â
You want to roll over and bury your face in his neck, but you cannot move because of your shoulder. You suffice to hold his arm tight, closing your eyes as his protective embrace surrounds you. His heart beats against your body and you let it lull you into a gentle repose.Â
You do not sleep for long. There is morning light when you wake but it is a bleary, early grey light. Everything smells a little damp from the rain. This is a small motel, meant to serve as a momentary respite for passing travellers. You cannot stay here.Â
Felix wakes when you do. After a few morning kisses, he rises to use the washroom. Jisung is still fast asleep in his bed, his cheek squished and his hair a shaggy mess on the pillow.  You smile, looking at him. There is a gap between the beds but he is close enough to touch if you stretch. You content yourself with looking, thinking about how lucky you are to have him again. It is a light and happy thought, but it darkens very swiftly when you recall what he did to save you. It is going to weigh on him, whether all at once or in pieces.Â
The weight of trauma will be a heavy burden, but you are alive to carry it. There are others who are less lucky. You think about Hyunjin and your heart strains, recalling his final miserable departure. Your father implied he had Hyunjin killed. If he was not bluffing to antagonize you, then Hyunjin did not stand a chance.  Â
You are sniffling with tears when Jisung blinks awake. He mutters in groggy gibberish before reaching for his glasses.   His tired voice is tinged with concern when he asks, âWhat is it? Do you need something?âÂ
âNo,â you say, wiping your tears. âI was just thinking I know where I want to go next.âÂ
It is hard to talk about Hyunjin so you opt for vagueness over specificity. The boys do not question the subject of the cabin when you mention his name. You do not tell them he might be dead. You feel like if you speak it out loud, it will make it true.Â
It will take a week to reach the cabin by car. Jisung helps you loads the necessities into the back a truck that Felix procured, only questioning its seeming manifestation after the fact.Â
âI stole it,â Felix answers.Â
âYou stole a car?â Jisung asks. It is a good thing the motel parking lot is empty because he practically shouts it, like stealing a car is the most horrifying thing he has ever heard. You remember how you had the same reaction the first time Felix stole a vehicle.Â
It makes you laugh when Felix draws his lips into a thin line, shaking his head at Jisung. He turns to you and says, âYou two really are identical, you know?â Â
âWhat does that mean?â Jisung asks.Â
âI said the same thing the last time he stole a car,â you say.
âDude!â Jisung whips around. âYou stole two cars?â
âYou know Iâve killed people, right?â Felix says dryly.Â
âWell yeah, I mean, who hasnât,â Jisung says with a nervous giggle.Â
You whack him on the arm and shake your head.  âThatâs not funny,â you say.Â
âItâs a little funny,â he whispers while you roll your eyes.Â
Though you want to keep him at your side, it feels selfish to ask Jisung to come with you. He has a life here and he has already done so much to help you. But he surprises you by emphatically volunteering himself, saying he at least wants to help get you there.Â
âI donât think I could just walk back into my normal life tomorrow like nothing happened,â Jisung says, tucking you under one arm. âI donât know whatâs gonna happen next. Canât control it. But I know where I want to be right now. Iâll figure out the rest after.âÂ
So you take to the road, your destination a small cabin far away from your old life.  You stop along the way, at first for food and other necessities, mostly stolen by Felix, but then for pleasure when you drive through towns with interesting landmarks.  On the clearer nights, you sleep in the bed of the truck.Â
You still do not stop for a real discussion. You indulge the mental break while you can, all three of you taking the time to literally stop and smell the flowers on the journey.Â
Bandages still need changing. Stitches need minding. The night before your anticipated arrival, you are in another motel room. You and Felix sit in the small kitchenette, playing cards at the tiny table, while Jisung showers and goes about his nightly routine.Â
You throw down a couple cards. You look at Felix while he studies his hand. The swelling on his face has gone down which is good for numerous reasons. He has been wearing a baseball cap everywhere, the brim pulled low, to stop people from staring.Â
There is a hard set to his shoulders. It has been like that for a few days. Even in your fatherâs house, there were moments Felix would soften, namely when he was curled up in your shared bed and the world seemed far away. Maybe he cannot relax because the world is so immediate now. It is strange that potential happiness can cause as much anxiety as its opposite. Perhaps it is because it is so unfamiliar. Your body only knows how to brace itself.Â
Felix was raised for that express purpose. Road trips and gardens and motel rooms was not in his training. High school corridors and uniforms once baffled him, the mundanity of everyday life more exhilarating and frightening than a battlefield.Â
You want to smooth his brow and soften his shoulders. He sits like he is holding a breath and you want to draw it out of him. A part of your stirs with arousal at the consideration, thinking how you could do that. You have always found your humanity in that intimate space. But you are both much too injured to try anything heavier than a kiss right now.Â
This time, you reach across the table and touch his cheek, with no intention but a soft caress. He blinks up at you, the cards forgotten. You do not know what to say. You just touch him.
He cups his hand over yours, holding it to his cheek. He looks at your shoulder and other bruises. It will take you a long time to heal, but nothing is infected. You do not know how his injuries are faring because he will not let anyone look at them. He claims he is fine. You know he is not.Â
âI love you,â you say. âI swear it gets stronger every day. Is that crazy? Not a day goes by where I am not grateful for you, just as you are.â
He closes his eyes and swallows. He nods.Â
âI love you too,â he says in a soft, low voice.Â
When Jisung leaves to get some dinner, Felix proves you wrong about lovemaking. You are too injured for anything vigorous, but he can still lay you down, can still stretch alongside you. He slips his hand beneath your waistband and touches you with long, careful strokes.  You unravel in his arms, your sore spots aching but the pain worth the pleasure. You wrap a hand around the back of his neck and tug him down for a kiss. You kiss him until he sighs and rests his forehead to yours.Â
âCan I please see?â you ask.Â
He finally acquiesces. His scars are not too bad, more plentiful than painful. He hisses but exhales when you kiss your way across a couple worse marks.Â
âWeâll find a way to feel better,â you say, grazing your fingertips along his skin. You recall what Jisung said, about how you did not have to deserve love, you just had to accept it. âYou donât need to prove yourself anymore, Felix,â you say. You dance your fingers down his bare chest to his waistband, kissing his shoulder as he sucks in a breath. âJust be with me. Let me love you.âÂ
âAlways,â he says, dropping his head back as you touch him. He cups the nape of your neck, squeezing lightly as you flick your wrist and stroke.Â
You reach the cabin the next day. It is late afternoon when you find the right place, passing a few other cabins before you find a quaint but charming one in the midst of a meadow.  The cabin itself does not flaunt much excess, but the meadow is flooded with flowers, a carpet of colour in the late afternoon light that makes it look like a something out of a fairy tale.Â
The only problem is the smoke in the chimney. The cabin is clearly occupied.Â
âIs this the right place?â Felix asks. He and Jisung were admiring the meadow while you stared at the cabin, heart palpitating when you realized it was not empty.Â
âIt is,â you say.Â
âMaybe itâs Hyunjin,â Jisung says.Â
âItâs not.â You close your eyes. Hyunjin did not say anything about selling the property when you brought it up. But, then again, there was a lot happening in that final exchange. You made him promise he would try to get away if he could, but it might have been an empty platitude. He knew he was going to die. He knew you would never find out anyway.Â
The distractions of the past week flutter into nothingness as you reckon with the grim reality of the world your father left behind. You hang your head, swallowing hard.Â
Jisung and Felix stare at you, their faces falling when they realize what you mean.Â
âHow?â Jisung asks.Â
âMy father chased him down,â you say. âHe used him. He discarded him. Itâs what he does.âÂ
âWhat he did,â Jisung reminds you. âAnd maybe Hyunjin got away.  We did! That stupid hot weasel was a bitch but he was resourceful as fuck.âÂ
âJisuuung,â you say, smacking his arm.
âWhat? Iâm not speaking ill of the dead because heâs not dead,â Jisung argues. âAnd if he was, he wouldnât want me to suddenly be all fake and nice to him.  I annoy him. Thatâs how I show my love.â He kisses two fingers and waves it at the sky, then flips his middle finger too. You laugh in spite of yourself, shaking your head.
Felix steps behind you and takes your hand. He kisses your cheek. A breeze blows through his hair, his hat in his other hand. The three of you stand in the meadow for a time, looking at the flowers as you contemplate what to do next.Â
The front door of the cabin opens. You all turn.   An apology sits on your tongue, sorry for trespassing on someone elseâs property.  The sight of you is no doubt disconcerting. Despite showers and meticulous first aid, you all look very rough, three obviously tired and run down people, a little dusty from the road and streaked with dirt from your hike to the cabin.Â
You look at the person as they stand on the front stoop. Your brow furrows and the apology disintegrates on your tongue, a bemused question poised to take itâs place.
âMinho?â is all you manage.Â
You have not seen your first teenage crush in many, many years. He looks older but not too different overall. He is still very striking, even in his homey flannel and jeans, standing on the cabin stoop and looking at you with equal confusion.Â
âDo I know you?â he asks, which makes sense. You might have had a crush on him, but so did half the school. He was a popular guy. He knew Hyunjin but he only met you briefly.Â
You want to tell him that. You want to say you are friends with Hyunjin but you find it hard to say his name, especially with Minho gazing at you so innocently. Why is he at the cabin? Was he still friends with Hyunjin? He likely does not know he is dead.Â
You are spared your turmoil when Felix tugs on your arm, a sharp bid for attention. You look at him, bemused, and he nods his head forward. You look past Minho to the open cabin door as another figure steps into view.Â
All that twisted pain unspools in your chest. You nearly start sobbing in relief.
âHyunjin!â You ignore the surprised look on Minhoâs face and run right past him.
Hyunjin is standing in the doorway, looking wary until he recognizes you. Then his face breaks into a smile and those long limbs jump the porch steps. You trample a few flowers that have grown over the path, meeting in an embrace amidst sprigs of lavender and vibrant hyacinths.  It is a very messy embrace, you and Hyunjin both forgetting you are injured. You crash together only to yelp, your shoulder smarting and his bruised chest just as tender. You laugh at each other then hug gently. When your cheek touches his chest, your eyes water.Â
âAm I dead after all?â you ask thoughtlessly, the beauty of the terrain and the embrace of your friend momentarily making you think so.  Â
Hyunjin laughs and shakes his head. âI thought you were,â he says. âIt was all over the news. I thought for sureââ
âI thought for sure youââ You overlap with him, both of you laughing again. âHow did you get away?âÂ
âNothing special,â Hyunjin says. âI was being watched but they were waiting for final orders from your father. Then word got out that he was dead so they just left.  I donât know if they went to investigate or just abandoned post. I didnât stick around to find out. I packed my things and disappeared the first chance I got.âÂ
âWe made a few stops on the journey over,â you say. âIâm not surprised you beat us.âÂ
âI really thought you wereââ Hyunjin shakes his head. âAnd that it was myââ
âIt wouldnât have been your fault anyway,â you say.Â
âThatâs what I told him,â Minho interrupts, his tone quippy but his lips quirked up in a smile. He wiggles his fingers in a wave when you look at him. âSo youâre the friend,â he says. âNice to meet you.â
âIâm the friendâs friend,â Jisung says, skipping into the scene and waving at Hyunjin. âHey, man. Missed me?âÂ
He is being playful but Hyunjin pulls him into a hug, very obviously surprising Jisung who almost falls right over.  Poor Jisungâs face goes red as a rose. You remember his video about having a crush on his high school rival and canât help but giggle into your palms.Â
Felix puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling cordially at Minho. âHi,â he says.Â
âThis is Felix, myââ You look at each other. You lips move as you look for the right word. Bodyguard is not strictly true anymore. Boyfriend and partner sound so very mundane, but you realize that is what you are now. âBoyfriend,â you say, feeling hot with embarrassment for no good reason. You suspect the little things will have you flustered for some time.Â
âBoyfriend,â Felix repeats, looking quite delighted for a second. You are certain only you see the flicker of sadness that follows. He blinks, his gaze faraway, but he covers it with another smile quickly enough. âNice to meet you,â he says.Â
âI guess Iâll have to make a bigger dinner,â Minho says, playfully dry like the idea is a hardship, but smiling a knowing smile at Hyunjin, clearly very happy for him. âCome on then. Get inside already. Youâre crushing the tulips.âÂ
The cabin is one floor with a loft. The main bedroom, kitchen and facilities are downstairs, some extra makeshift bedding thrown together in the small sitting area by the fireplace. The upstairs loft is a small second bedroom, sparsely furnished with a mattress and blankets and little else. The ceilings are low but the space is blessedly private. You think it is some of the finest accommodations you have ever stayed in. Â
You throw yourself on the mattress, curling up with a pillow and blanket. Felix smiles and leans down to kiss the top of your head. When he pulls away, you take his hand, regarding him imploringly.Â
âJust gonna take a shower,â he says. âWanna clean up, yeah.â
You nod. Even though you can see he is struggling with something, you let him go.  If he is not in the mood to talk, you will wait. A shower will help him feel better.
He takes his bag and climbs back down the ladder. You mean to wait for his return, but you feel such calm at finally reaching your destination. The laughing voices of your friends float up to the loft, putting you even more at ease. You release a breath and lay your head on a pillow. The next thing you know, you are blinking awake. The sky is a purpling pink, the day drawing to a close. You can smell something cooking downstairs. Your friends are still yammering away. Hyunjinâs relentless giggles at Jisungâs goofy jokes makes you smile.Â
You climb down the ladder and wander into the main room. Felix was not upstairs but he is not with the others either. He must have finished his shower a long time ago now.Â
âWhereâs Felix?â you ask, an edge of panic in your voice.Â
âHeâs just outside,â Minho says from behind the kitchen counter. âHe said he just wanted some air.â
âOh,â you say, feeling a little foolish for panicking without reason. âRight. Thank you.â
âDonât worry,â Minho says, winking to comfort you. You smile but nonetheless wrap your cardigan tighter around you, feeling a little embarrassed.Â
Felix has been glued to your side for ten years. Your instinct now panics in his absence, but you realize his absence is a good thing. He does not need to be beside you at all times. He is free to wander if that is what he wants. You are glad he stepped outside for some air, rather than sitting over you.Â
You step onto the small porch and look across the meadow. You can see a shape sitting among the flowers at the edge of the field, looking down the slope to the park valley below. You cross the flowers, minding where you step. The breeze parts your cardigan and you tug it closed. It is a somewhat clumsy walk overall. Your last few steps are a proper stumble over a rock. You miss it completely, distracted with what you find.Â
Felix sits with his back to you. You thought he was wearing a hat, but now you can see it is his hair. He dyed it a shock of pitch black and trimmed the edges. It is a messy, jagged cut that you will certainly have to fix later. You suspect he did not spend much time looking in the mirror.Â
âWhatâs this?â you ask. âIs this why you wanted to stop at that drug store?â
Felix looks up at you. The dark hair somehow makes his freckles stand out more. He looks different but still very handsome. You think you might be falling in love all over again, a little flushed inside as you sit beside him on the grass.Â
âYeah,â he says. He runs his fingers through his hair, glancing up at the dark locks from beneath his lashes. He sighs. âAnd I donât know why. I justâŠâÂ
You put your arm around him, drawing him close to rest his head on your good shoulder. He falls against you, breathing out again. His shoulders droop, losing some of the tension that has plagued him.Â
âI donât know what to do now,â he says. âI know this is all good, but I feel like Iâve done something wrong. Like Iâm not supposed to be here. And I keep thinking about Chris. How Iââ He rubs his face, then chokes tears. âWhat am I supposed to do with all this life, especially when I couldnât give him back his?âÂ
He cries properly now and you let him. There is no right thing to say, not that you can think of, so you just hold him until he has expended the worst of his pain through his tears. He takes a few shaking breaths before he sits upright, wiping his face. You rub a circle on his back.Â
âAnd you,â he whispers. âItâs like, I feel everything all at once. You call me your boyfriend and Iâm happy, then I see you hugging Hyunjin and I thinkâhe knows how to be a person. I donât know how to be anything.â
âFelix, you know Hyunjin is gay, right?â you ask. You guarded that secret before but seeing as Minho is here at the cabin, you suspect Hyunjin is not keeping it secret anymore.Â
Felix stutters on a shaking breath, looking momentarily confused.Â
âHuh? He is?â he asks, then gets a little weepy again, saying, âThatâs nice for him.â
âOh, baby,â you say. You kiss his cheek and snuggle close to him, resting your head on his shoulder. âI donât know what to say. Iâm a mess too. I donât know how to do any of this right.  But Iâm pretty sure grieving your friend makes you more of a person, not less.â You look at each other. You touch his cheek and stroke a thumb over his freckles. You think you have them mapped by memory, every last dot. âYouâre not alone,â you say. âI want to be with you when things are bad, not just when theyâre good. And you and me, weâve known a lot of bad.âÂ
He laughs, his breath dancing over your lips with your proximity. You smile fondly.Â
âI think itâs time we feel some good,â you say. âWeâll figure out what that means eventually. Together.âÂ
He draws you close and kisses you, a sweet kiss that deepens. You cuddle when the breeze blows a little harder, the evening chill creeping into the sunset. Still, you do not move, sharing heat between you and sitting among the flowers until the pink has left the sky and a blue evening blurs into the purple wash.Â
Minho sticks his head out the door to call you in for dinner. You stand first and offer your hand. Felix takes it, then kisses you one more time. You walk back to the cabin, hand in hand.
Warmth wraps around you like a fuzzy blanket when you step inside from the cold. Hyunjin and Jisung are playfully arguing at the table, Minho standing over them and yammering some nonsense back. You and Felix smile at each other before joining them all at the table. After he has served the portions, Minho sits as well.Â
There is a moment of silence, everyone looking around the table at everyone else. They all looked flushed with warmth and life, Hyunjin smiling and Jisung beaming at you. Felix puts his hand on your knee under the table, squeezing softly. You look at him with another smile, then a laugh, a sound of disbelief that resonates with everyone. You are here, impossibly but truly. You have no idea what happens now. Â
âIâll break the ice,â Jisung says. âBecause I have a confession, while weâre all here, and Hyunjin has his hot boyfriend cooking us a meal. Hyunjin, my man, Iâm sorry for being the dick of all dicks when we were in high school.â Jisung lays a hand on his heart and dramatically makes his confession. Hyunjinâs eyebrows shoot up into his hairline as your goofy friend continues, âTurns out having an arch nemesis is super gay. And I was a stupid repressed bisexual who thought furiously staring at you for seven hours a day was a totally normal thing to do. Sorry, man. Congrats on the hot boyfriend, though.âÂ
âIâm not his boyfriend,â Minho says. His elbow is on the table, chin in his hand. He is grinning at Jisung.Â
âCome again?â Jisung says.Â
âNot his boyfriend,â Minho says, laughing. âIâm his friend. He was in trouble and asked for my help.  Iâm a good friend so here I am, helping him get settled. Iâm actually married.â He holds up his hand, proudly displaying a wedding band. He giggles some more. âHeâs single, though.â He gestures to Hyunjin.Â
Jisung looks at Hyunjin who has gone very pink in the face. He glances at Jisung and laughs, covering his mouth to try and contain it.Â
âOh. Oh. Oh. Yeah. Cool.â Jisung scratches the back of his neck, then his brow, then his chin. He taps the table and nods his head rapidly. âAwesome,â he says. âWell, Iâm really glad we clarified that before I made a really ridiculous confession in front of everyone. That would have been super embarrassing for me.â
You all laugh, genuinely as Jisung soaks it in with a silly little grin. The sound of your collective delight fills the cabin before chatter begins again and you start eating.Â
You glance around the table while taking a bite. Your shoulder aches, and Felixâs bruises are still healing, and you will not be surprised if a nightmare jolts one of you out of sleep tonight. But you will wake beside Felix, you will comfort each other, and you will fall back asleep. You will wake up tomorrow and try it all again.Â
You know the times ahead will not always be easy. Â Â You are ready to make mistakes and try.
It is not a perfect ending, but it is a perfect beginning. Â
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I DIED đđđđđđđđ
Seasons
Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader
W/c: 24.1k
Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of a hospital, alcohol, smoking, erotic photography, clitoral stimulation, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, dry humping, sex in a semi-public place (no one is around), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering,
Synopsis: Seasons come and go like your love for Felix once did- but when he reappears in your life several years later, things are much different.
[this work was based off a request from @crookedt44th - thank you for requesting!]
18+. Mdni!
âą
Small town at the edge of the world. 11:30am. A Tuesday in Autumn.
If you told the average person to shut their eyes and think of their favorite city, theyâd probably conjure up a lengthy description about the booming skyscrapers, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the fancy restaurants and the well-kept people. Point it out on a map, youâd tell them, and their finger would land in the heart of the amorphous blob of whatever state theyâve chosen.
Now move your finger to the right- keep going, and going, and donât stop until youâre almost off the map entirely. There will be no major indicators, no colorful dots on this area of the map. You might miss it, in fact, if you shoot too far.
Thatâs the town of Ember.
A town so insignificant, the only name they could think to give it was based on the fire that plagued it almost 50 years ago, which begged the question to those in neighboring cities- who even lives there?
Famous for absolutely nothing of importance, population who-knows-these-days, nothing to do and nowhere to go.
And the place you call home.
*
âPieces of a Dream. 1970âs.â
âYellow,â your manager responds, and you unravel a bulky roll of discount stickers, thumbing one off the adhesive and placing it gently in the corner of the plastic-wrapped vinyl.
âThe rest of those should be discounted,â he says, quickly shuffling through the stack and giving them a little slap with the palm of his hand.
He slides the stack over to you, taking his spot on the wooden stool by the register again and flipping through a stack of pages on his clipboard.
Chris, your manager, has been the owner of Ember Records for the better part of a decade now. He succeeds his fatherâs role as store owner, who succeeded his fatherâs role, back when the record shop wasnât mostly lost to the fire. Since its relocation, itâs much smaller, so youâve heard, only about half the shelf space available to house the generous collection of records his great grandfather used to collect and sell.
This is one of just a handful of shops around here, located in the heart of the tourist attraction that is the townâs square. Thus, youâre well-acquainted with the baristas from the coffee shop across the street, the waiters at the diner, the librarians and even the car mechanics. Youâre all familiar with the businesses you run to keep this town on its feet, many of you having chosen to stay here for a simpler life.
âI dig the grays,â you tell Chris, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter and slide him the finished stack of tagged vinyl.
He sighs, cocking his head and uncapping his pen between his teeth. âThey creep up on you when you least expect it. You know this shit costs like, hundreds to get dyed?â
âLeave it,â you say to him, giving a small nod as you speak. âIt makes you look more mature. I mean, what does Yena think of it?â
âShe loves it,â he says, catching a glimpse of his reflection in one of the glass cases and running his hands through his hair. âBut sheâd also love if I shaved my eyebrows off. Sheâll compliment anything.â
âThen shave your eyebrows,â you say, chuckling, as you stuff your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. âYouâre lucky to have a wife whoâs so supportive of your decisions. Iâm taking my lunch!â
âYeah, yeah,â Chris says, laughing as he shakes his head. âOh, and Yena left you some pie in the back room.â
âTell her thank you!â You call over your shoulder as you make your way to the back.
The back room is just a glorified storage closet, one dingy table pushed up against the wall, one wooden chair and shelves of records that need to be pushed out to the sales floor, or shouldâve just been burned in the fire. You have to duck your head to not hit it on the hanging pendant lamp, its bulb buzzing concerningly loud as you take your seat and pry open the Tupperware container Yena left for you in the fridge- cherry pie, your favorite, from the diner down the street where she works.
As you take generous bites of your first meal of the day, you shuffle through a stack of records neglected on the table from last weekâs donation. There are a myriad of genres- old jazz bands, electronic records, synth pop and even a few ambient pieces. As you flip over one of the covers, Chris calls to you from the front, his voice echoing around the dingy little storage closet.
âY/n! I need you to come help out!â
And you sigh, promptly shutting the Tupperware closed again and making your way out to the front.
Thatâs the thing about this job- itâs small, but itâs busy, the hundreds of records demanding your very precise attention at any given moment of the day. You live to serve the people here, suggesting records to those seeking new sounds or curiously peering at genres unknown to them. And tourists are drawn to the place, often leaving with armfuls of old vinyl to add to their collections. Itâs not a town theyâll likely ever visit again, youâre well aware, but the shop allows people to take a little piece of Ember with them wherever they go. And though the lack of grandiosity might not bring them back, your attentiveness to detail and passion for music sometimes do.
*
âCoffee?â Yena asks you, as you slide into the familiar spot of your favorite booth, next to the window in her diner. She saunters over with the pot anyway, setting a little white mug down in front of you and filling the cup halfway.
âThanks,â you reply, already tearing open packs of creamer.
At half past 8, the record shop closes in only an hour, Chris taking on the role of closing procedures in your absence. Itâs a routine life you lead, tending to the record shop by day and basking in the townâs simple pleasures by nighttime. And with all the people you love in it, you have no reason to leave, no rush to migrate elsewhere.
âHowâs work?â Yena asks, sliding into the booth across from you and pulling a notepad out from her apron. She flips through the pages, stopping on a blank one and adding up her tips for the evening.
âFine,â you say to her, taking a generous sip of coffee. âJust mostly repeat customers for today. But we did have a pretty hefty donation, so thatâs a plus.â
âAnything good?â She questions, without looking up from her notepad.
âNegative. A lot of older stuff I used to listen to in high school.â
Yena finishes tallying up her tips, shutting her notepad and finally meeting your gaze.
âHey, if thatâs old, then Iâm ancient.â
You both laugh, and she keeps her gaze on you for a moment before speaking again.
âGosh, I still remember when you moved here. You were so⊠wide-eyed. And quiet.â
âI was so lost,â you say with a small chuckle. âI donât even think I knew how to work a record player.â
âAnd now look at you,â she emphasizes, gesturing to your face. âYou just seem⊠happy these days.â
She smiles for a moment, before gathering the empty cups of creamer off the table and sliding out of the booth.
âI hope youâll stay here, if it means youâre always going to be this happy.â
You smile to yourself as she begins back toward the kitchen, humming to herself.
âWasnât planning on leaving!â You call out, and without turning around, she gives you a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen again.
*
Some days, your shifts feel like 5 minutes. Other days, they feel like 5 days. Today is the latter, the clock on the wall above the register ticking away by the second, and yet seemingly no closer to the end of your day. Youâre on closing procedures this evening, Chris and Yena having taken the day off to have a much overdue date night. And itâs empty, like it usually is on Wednesday evenings, not a soul in sight as the town tends to their own duties, the tourists all working busy jobs in the city.
You slouch your shoulders over the wooden stool, dusting off a pile of folk records and shuffling through them, admiring the intricate paintings on the covers. Itâs one of your favorite things about working here- locating the beautiful paintings and photographs that graze the covers of records, all of them vastly different from one another, but equally as evocative. You trace your fingertips over what appears to be a Polish record, a couple dressed in fancy colorful fabrics as he dips her into a bow. You canât help but wonder what the atmosphere would be like if they were here in front of you, the whole room teeming with the choral ensemble as theyâd tap their fancy shoes along the tile flooring and invite you to dance, too. The thought circles your mind with a smile, and you barely hear the next customer enter when they do.
The little gold bell hanging on the door chimes just once when they enter, indicating the arrival of a man, who promptly rushes to the back shelf without so much as a hello. Welcome, I guess, you want to say, dismissing their curtness with a shake of your head as you go back to organizing records.
You shuffle to the next record, admiring the black and white photo of a man with his guitar, a panama hat atop his curly head of hair as he sings into a microphone. It reminds you of the ones your dad used to collect before he passed.
âExcuse me?â A voice interrupts, and you practically jump, startled at the way he navigates the shop without a sound. Heâs right in front of the register now, holding a CD in his hands and setting it down in front of you.
âIâd like to pay,â he continues, his baritone voice sounding painfully uninviting.
Without looking up at him, you take the CD from the counter, flipping it over to scan the barcode on the front. Four Decades of Jazz, the cover simply displaying the title in funky purple block text.
âThis oneâs actually on clearance,â you say, sliding the CD into a small paper bag. âJust 5.â
He pulls out a brown leather wallet, flipping through crisp bills as he searches for exact change. As he does, you take notice of the collection of silver rings that decorate his shorter fingers, a few of them painted with chipping black nail polish. Your gaze fixates on a thicker silver band, carved with black fleur de lis patterns that circle the band all the way around. You cock your head slightly, mapping out the pattern in your head as his hands move, the ring glistening under a beam of light that shines through the window and sets it aglow.
âIt was a gift,â the man says when he notices you staring, and he holds out his index finger, rotating his finger to give you the full view.
You say nothing, your lips parting slightly as he does, transfixed by the way the silver hugs his finger and frames his veiny hands. The man stays silent, his gaze on the ring, too, as he pulls it off with a gentle tug and holds it up for you to see.
âDo you want to see it?â He asks, pinching the band between the pads of his fingers as he rotates it under the same beam of sunlight.
âNo, thank you,â you reply, your mind still in a trance. âIt just⊠reminds me ofâŠâ and your voice trails off, finally allowing your gaze to look up and meet the strangerâs.
His big brown eyes seem to widen when you finally lock eyes, his plump lips parting open as he scrambles to pull the ring back on.
âSomething,â is all you can utter, folding the brown paper bag once in your hands and sliding it across the counter. âIt reminds me of somebody I used to know.â
His breath hitches his throat as he finds the words to say, unable to string together a cohesive sentence as memories run rampant in his mind, everything coming back to him like a painful wound being reopened.
âSorry,â is all he can say, clutching the brown bag in one hand as he gives you a small nod. âAnd thanks. For the CD. Or for ringing me up, rather. Thank you-â
âYouâre welcome,â you reply briskly, pivoting on your heel to organize a stack of already-sorted records on the shelf behind you.
And you can still feel him there for a moment, his gaze boring into the back of your head like he wants to say something. But he doesnât, instead observing the way your hair, a little shorter than heâd previously remembered it, sways gently in its ponytail as you go about your job.
You listen to the way the brown paper bag crumples in his grasp, before he finally retreats and exits, the little bell above the door indicating his departure.
And when you turn around again, there on the counter, his silver ring sits, glistening in the waning glint of the evening sun.
*
âThe lattes are so expensive out there,â Yena says, as she takes a sip from her iced coffee. âIâd drink this gas station coffee any day over that stuff.â
You chuckle lightly, shaking your head as you wipe down the counter with a rag. Chris counts change in the register beside you, muttering counts to himself as he scribbles onto his clipboard and listens to your conversations.
âBut hey, we still had a good time,â Yena continues, smiling over at Chris. âSometimes leaving this town keeps you on your toes.â
âYeah, well, Iâm on my toes enough here as it is,â you respond, the three of you chuckling lightly amongst each other.
The bell atop the door chimes once, signifying the arrival of a new customer, and Chris gestures to the door as you look up.
âAll you,â he says, going back to his work.
You fold the rag neatly, setting it on the counter and making your way over to the clearance aisle where the stranger stands. His back is turned toward you, his lanky frame towering over stacks of CDs as he thumbs through them casually.
âCan I help you find anything?â You chime in, your hands behind your back as you watch him. As you speak, he turns to face you, and you breathe a deep sigh of annoyance.
âSeriously?â You say, already retreating back to the counter again and turning away from him.
âWait,â he calls, rushing after you and standing in front of the counter awkwardly. Chris looks up from his clipboard, furrowing his brows together as Yena shoots him an equally questioning look.
âI donât have anything to say to you,â you respond, unfolding the rag again and wiping down the register.
âHey, hey,â Chris says, giving you a confused look.
âDonât worry about it,â you say to Chris through gritted teeth, brushing off the interaction.
âI just wanted to-â the man begins, as he looms behind the counter, fiddling with his fingers nervously.
âWhy would you come back?â You question, not looking at him still. âWasnât one time awkward enough?â
âI left my ring,â he finally says, dropping his hands at his sides.
Both your gazes fall to your hands, where the silver band rests comfortably on your index finger, almost like itâs always been yours.
âYeah, whatever,â you reply, pulling it off and sliding it across the counter to him. âHere.â
He doesnât say anything, not yet reaching for the ring, nor telling you to put it back on. A part of him is fascinated at the prospect you chose to wear it around at all.
The silence that falls over the shop is painfully awkward, Chris and Yena keeping their gazes locked between the two of you as you angrily scrub at a stain on the counter.
âHey,â Chris says, finally pulling the rag from your grasp. âYouâre scratching the wood, kiddo.â
âIf no one wants that ring, give it here,â Yena says with a smile.
The ring is slowly lifted from the counter again, slid back onto the finger of its respective owner.
âWeâll give you guys a minute,â Chris says, motioning to the back room with the tilt of his head. And Yena follows him to the back, the till of the register balanced in his arms.
âWhat do you want?â You ask, finally meeting his gaze again. âIâm working right now.â
His face drops a little, giving you a small shrug before he speaks.
âI was just wondering how you were doing. And I thought-â
âFelix,â you say brazenly, your heartbeat quickening a little at the feeling of his name leaving your lips again after so long. âCut the small talk. Just tell me why youâre here.â
He sighs as he fiddles with the band around his finger, the metal still warm from the contact against your skin.
âThatâs it,â he explains. âI didnât expect to see you here. And I wondered how you were doing.â
âSo leaving your ring here wasnât an elaborate plan to come back for it?â
âIt⊠was,â he says sheepishly. âI needed an excuse to come see you again.â
âWe sell records,â you emphasize. âThatâs the only reason you should be here. And if itâs not, then leave.â
âY/n,â Felix says frustratedly. His eyebrows arch up in an almost pleading manner, his lips quivering as he struggles to find the words to say.
Itâs the first time you take notice of his changed appearance, completely opposite to the Felix you last spoke to. His once blonde locks are grown out, grazing over his bony shoulders, a robust shade of ebony that contrasts against his pale skin, tied up into a half ponytail. His plump lips glisten under a glossy coat of peach tint, and his freckles are almost unnoticeable from this distance. You furrow your brows to get a better look, trying to make out the beige constellations you remember so well. But you canât locate them- not on his nose, or his cheeks or even around his eyes.
He dresses differently, too, a baggy white tank top under a black leather vest, almost too big for him as it swallows his lean figure. And he flaunts a hefty collection of silver jewelry- rings, rows of ear piercings, a chain link bracelet and layered necklaces. If you didnât know his eyes like the back of your own hand, you mightâve not even recognized him to be Felix.
âWhat are you doing here, anyway?â You finally ask, your voice softening a little as he toys with the rings on his fingers.
âThis is my favorite place for CDs,â he responds, his shoulders relaxing a little as he speaks. âI used to come here every weekend back in high school. I didnât know you worked here now, I promise Iâm not trying to make things weird.â
You sigh a little, shifting your eyes to the shelves and then back at him.
âWell what are you doing here now? Shouldnât you be in school or something?â
Felix shrugs a little, his expression unchanging. âItâs complicated, I guess.â And then he furrows his brows at you, gesturing to the shop. âI could ask you the same question.â
âItâs complicated,â you reply, echoing his statement back at him. âAnd Iâm not in the mood to indulge you with the story of my life.â
âI have time,â Felix says with a chuckle, and heâs met with your deafening silence.
âSorry,â he follows, fiddling again with the rings on his fingers.
As you begin to ask him to leave, Chris and Yena enter from the back room again, carefully making their way toward you with hands shoved in their pockets.
âHey,â Yena says, nudging you gently. âEverything okay, you guys?â
âYes,â Felix is quick to chime in. âMy apologies- Iâm Felix,â he says with a beaming smile, holding out his hand to shake Yena and Chrisâ. They comply, exchanging warm smiles with him, still confused at why you seem so irate.
âIâm sorry to disrupt the peace,â Felix continues, giving them a little bow. âWeâre just-â
âOld friends,â you interrupt, rolling your eyes at this act he puts on. âAnd he was just leaving.â
âRight,â Felix says, his lips pulling into a disheartened expression.
âY/n doesnât bring too many friends around here,â Chris chimes in. âWhatâs the rush to leave?â He chuckles as he finishes, and Yena hits him lightly as if signaling for him to stop.
âActually,â Felix begins, and you sigh when you realize heâs not done talking yet. âI was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner, or a coffee or something.â
âFelix, I really donât think-â
âItâs on me if you wanna come to the diner tomorrow,â Yena chimes in. âWe still have leftover pie.â
And you pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing deeply as Felix stares at you with a hopeful expression. His eyes are big, gauging your response curiously as you shift your gaze amongst the three of them. Chris watches Yena, who holds her breath as you think. And Felixâs lip seems to quiver when you open your mouth to speak.
âNo dinner. Just coffee. And Chris covers my closing shift.â
*
Felix is at the diner much earlier than you are, comfortably reserving a spot for you on a table in the middle of the room and allowing Yena to fill your mugs with hot coffee. He adds three packs of sugar, two cups of creamer and a dollop of whipped cream he requests from Yena. And he waits for you patiently, stacking the spare cups of creamer into an organized pyramid, in between nervous glances out the window.
Yena wants to ask who he is exactly- why youâd seemed so off yesterday, and whether heâs here for a reason, or just to catch up as the old friends you claim to be. But she refrains, knowing to stay out of your business the way you so graciously stay out of hers.
âMore coffee?â Yena asks as she approaches Felix, taking note of the near empty mug in front of him now.
âSure,â Felix replies, shooting her a nervous smile. His hands tremble a little as he shoves the pyramid of creamers away from him, pretending to look occupied with his phone instead.
Yena fills his mug to the brim again, sliding him the mug across the table and giving him an empathetic look.
âIâm sure sheâll be here,â Yena says, nodding affirmatively. âSheâs usually a little late getting off work.â
And Felix just nods, keeping his gaze on the giant glass windows. Outside, the sun has already set for the evening, darkened skies casting over the little square of Ember. The streets are sparse at this hour, just a few pedestrians who also flock here after their shifts, and the diner is fairly empty with the exception of a few young couples. Felix scans the atmosphere as he waits, observing the way everybody seems so acquainted with the place. Red vinyl booths line the large glass windows, dimly lit by hanging pendant lamps that give a yellow hue to the wooden tables below them. Each table is neatly paired with a silver napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, hot sauce and a myriad of syrup flavors. And a bright neon red sign advertising fresh pies flickers over the kitchen, which is hidden behind silver swinging doors. It looks like something straight out of a movie, he thinks to himself, as a table nearby is served steaming plates of omelets and fries. And as Felix turns his attention back toward the glass windows, he finally sees you approaching, earbuds in and a nonchalant expression on your face. Your hair is tucked loosely behind your ears, a simple ensemble of loose fitting jeans and a sweater complementing your worn down sneakers. The bell on the door chimes as you make your way inside, a smile on your face as you talk briefly with Yena upon entering. And she gestures back to Felix, who gives a little wave from where heâs sitting, in time for his third coffee refill of the evening.
âThis isnât my table,â you say to Felix when you approach, gathering your mug of coffee and gesturing to your favorite booth against the window. Felixâs eyes flicker to the booth, a confused expression on his face as you wait for him to relocate.
âWell? Are you coming, or what?â
âYeah, um, sorry,â Felix responds, clutching his mug in one hand and carefully bringing it across the room to the booth.
You furrow your eyes when you look back at the table, a tall pyramid of creamer cups placed where Felix was sitting.
Felix slides in the booth across from you, gesturing to your mug and meeting your gaze.
âDo you take cream? Or sugar?â
âJust two,â you say, picking your cups from the little bowl at the end of the table and tearing them open.
He nods, stirring his coffee around with a spoon as you prepare yours.
âLet me guess,â you say with a knowing smile. â8 packs sugar, 4 things of creamer and an entire can of whipped cream.â
He chuckles lightly, angling you the contents of his cup, which now contains a mixture of frothy melted cream and coffee the color of chocolate milk.
âYou always did have a sweet tooth,â you respond, laughing and shaking your head. âMight as well just have a sundae while youâre at it.â
When youâre finished, you hold your mug in both hands, taking a generous sip of the steamy beverage and setting it back down with a gentle thud. Felix watches you intently, like heâs waiting for you to initiate the conversation, but you donât, raising your eyebrows at him as you wait for him to speak.
âIâm just visiting for a bit,â Felix finally says, twiddling his thumbs on the table in front of him. âIâm doing my classes remotely this semester.â
You nod, saying nothing, as he searches for more words to say.
âAre your classes remote, too?â He continues.
âThere are no classes,â you interrupt quickly, before he can press you for more information about school. âI dropped out of college.â
âYou did?â Felix retorts, his eyes widening a little at how easily you admit to it. Not an ounce of shame, like it was planned from the start.
âWhy?â He follows, tracing mindless patterns into the wood of the table below him.
âBecause I hated it. Anything else you want to know?â
âWhy are you all the way out here?â
âBecause I love it here.â
âAnd how are your parents?â
âMy dad died. Last spring. Are we done now?â
Felix swallows nervously, averting your gaze as he taps his knee nervously under the table.
âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to intrude.â
You just nod at him, pursing your lips a little and toying with the handle on your mug.
âAre you going to tell me about yourself, or do I need to play 20 questions, too?â You ask him, rolling your eyes as a smile grows on his face.
Felix chuckles lightly, relieved that youâve already forgiven his clear overstepping here.
âIâm still in college. Iâm just⊠undecided. I took a semester off a little while ago because I donât know what I want to do. I havenât actually been to class physically in⊠a good while.â
You nod empathetically at his words, the reality of them contradictory to the Felix you once knew. He was a straight A student when you knew him last, quick to join campus clubs and gain popularity wherever he went. People often commented on how different both of you were from each other- Felix, a bright young student who could light up a room with his smile, always so eager to ask questions and familiarize himself with the world around him. And you, a bit more reserved, your world often tainted by the reality of the hardships youâd faced, and the knowledge that life, when not lived for yourself, is often arduous.
âSo youâre doing a bit of soul-searching,â you say to Felix, no stranger to the concept of tourists stopping through here to âstart life anewâ at the sight of run-down coffee shops and bookstores. And when they find what theyâre looking for, theyâre gone again, like a soul could never thrive here in the town of Ember, even if itâs where it materialized.
âYou could say that,â he responds, swirling the remainder of whipped cream around his cup with a spoon. âThings just havenât been⊠great.â
You nod in response, averting his gaze as you study the wooden table below him.
âWell good luck,â you finally say, taking a generous gulp of your coffee and scanning the room for Yena before the conversation can go any further than the base-level declarations of your new separate lives.
âDo you remember that night we snuck out of your house?â Felix asks suddenly, just as you begin to get up.
âWhat?â
âIt was raining. I think it was like 3 in the morning.â
You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes as he speaks.
âI didnât have a car at the time,â Felix continues. âSo you rode on the handles of my bike in the pouring rain. We went to watch the sunrise, only we didnât realize that of course because we were in the middle of a storm, there was-â
âNo visible sunrise,â you interrupt quietly. âWe just watched the clouds turn a lighter shade of gray.â
Felix grins a little as you finish, nodding his head.
âExactly. And when we got home at 5am, your dad was already awake. And heâd never met me before- we swore heâd have it out for me. But he didnât- he brought us blankets, and he made us tea and laughed his ass off at our stupidity.â
âThereâs no sunrise in a fucking storm!â You exclaim, echoing your dadâs lighthearted lecture from so long ago.
Felix laughs with you, the warm memory circling your minds, both of you equally as endeared by the tale you so vividly remember. As your laughter dies down, Felix keeps his gaze on yours, shooting you a half smile as he speaks again.
âYour dad really loved you. And⊠itâs one of my favorite memories, even today.â
You hold his gaze too, clutching the handle of your mug again and giving him a small nod, your lip quivering a little at the mention of your father.
âThanks, Felix,â you say in a melancholy tone, taking a deep breath in an attempt to hold back your tears.
When the feelingâs passed, Felix spoons another dollop of whipped cream into his cup and brings it up to his lips.
âYour hairâs shorter,â he says with a chuckle.
âYours is longer,â you retort. âAnd black.â
âIâm trying something new.â
âI can tell,â you say, laughing lightly. âAnd whatâs with all the screws and washers in your ears?â
âMy piercings?â He replies. âTheyâre a fashion statement!â
âThey look painful.â
âThis one was,â Felix says, toying with the silver helix piercing in his lobe.
âAnd this one,â his fingers trail down to another silver stud, just below the first. âAnd maybe this one.â
âAt what point is this just inflicting pain on yourself for fun?â
âIâm not finished!â Felix says, as you both share amused laughter. He thumbs over another row of silver studs, thinking intently as he speaks. âThis one hurt, this one definitely hurtâŠâ
*
âHow was your dinner thing last night?â Chris asks in the morning, shooting you a knowing smile as he breaks a new roll of quarters in the till.
âCoffee,â you emphasize.
âCoffee,â he echoes. âHow was coffee, with your old friend?â
âIt was okay,â you respond, organizing a stack of records on the shelf across the counter. âJust catching up, mostly.â
âYena said you guys were there for hours.â
âMaybe we were.â
âHours?â Chris repeats, shaking his head. âWhat could you have possibly talked about that lasted hours?â
âFriend stuff,â you reply to him. âMaybe if you had some, youâd know.â
âOuch, kiddo,â he says, clutching his chest in a joking manner as you both laugh.
As you turn to grab another stack of records, the bell over the door chimes, and your heads snap in the direction of the noise. And like youâd accidentally spoken him into existence again, Felix saunters in, a shy smile on his face. He looks a little more casual this time, in just jeans and a black t-shirt, but still different than you remembered him nonetheless.
âSpeak of the angel,â Chris mutters, nudging you with his elbow as he waves at Felix.
âHi,â Felix says cheerfully. âItâs nice and warm in here. Outsideâs really cold.â
âFelix, what are you doing here?â You sigh, averting Chrisâ shit-eating grin.
âWhat? Iâm buying some CDs.â
âWe have a good amount on clearance,â Chris says from where heâs standing. âBack shelf.â
âThanks!â Felix replies, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance.
âChris, would you give us a minute?â
And he nods, shooting Felix a thumbs up, before disappearing to the back room with a stack of papers.
âLook,â you begin, turning to Felix. âLast night was fun and all, but Iâm still working a job. This doesnât just make amends or something. It was great catching up, but respectfully, I really donât want to see you again.â
Felix nods a little, and then he hoists something over his arm. Itâs the first time you take notice of it- a black crossbody satchel, draped over one arm, his hand resting casually on the zipper.
âThen I suppose getting help for my project is a no?â
You narrow your eyes at him, gesturing to the bag with a tilt of your head. âWhatâs in the bag?â
âYou donât get to know if you donât help me.â
âJust tell me.â
âPromise youâll help me.â
âFelix-â
He holds the bag a little further away from his body, effectively shielding it from your view and shaking his head. âAnd it was such a good surprise, too.â
âJust tell me whatâs in the stupid bag!â
Felix finally holds the bag out in front of him, unzipping it and carefully pulling out its contents. He reveals a digital camera to you, slinging the strap over his neck and holding it up to squint into the lens. âSmile!â
âWhat- thatâs it?â You question, shielding your face from his view. âHow does this pertain to me?â
âIâm photographing the town,â he replies, fidgeting with the lens in his hands. âI need some help.â
âWhy would you need my help with that? Iâm not a photographer.â
âYeah but you know this town, and all of its little quirks.â
âThereâs a maps app on your phone for a reason, Felix.â
Felix gets quiet again as he fidgets with the lens on his camera, doing nothing particularly useful as he prays youâll change your answer. And heâs not lying- he does need to photograph this town, and all of its hidden gems for his creative project this semester. But he would be lying if he said having you keep him company wasnât all he thought about when he went to bed last night, and woke up this morning and inevitably found himself back at your record shop.
âYou used to be the best model,â Felix says just above a whisper, letting his camera hang loosely at his waist now. âI still have all my film photos of you.â
The room gets a little quiet as you meet his gaze, not missing the way his eyes seem to soften into a somber expression. Heâs always had this way of begging- pleading for what he wants, and youâve very seldom been able to say no to him. Seeing him stand in front of you now, heavy camera in his small hands and a dream circling his mind, you know the fact still stands true.
âIf I do this for you, this is the last favor I run you.â
His lips pull into a toothy smile, his eyes forming little crescents as he nods eagerly.
âI promise. I wonât ask you for anything else.â
When Chris reenters the room, he shoots you a questioning look, which you wave off with a casual roll of your eyes.
âWhat time are you off today?â Felix asks, and Chris purposely nudges you as he passes by.
âLater. Just come by at closing or something.â
âYeah, I can do that. Do you want me to bring a coffee or anything-â
âSee you at closing, Felix,â you respond with a smile, and you gesture back to the door.
He nods, seeing himself out, camera firmly grasped in his two hands as he waves again through the window.
*
Felix drives the same shitty car he did when you last knew him. Its chipped navy blue exterior clashes horribly with the beige leather seats, the inside tainted by the permanent odor of cigarettes from its previous owner, Felix making futile efforts to mask the smell with pine tree air fresheners. The seatbelts are frayed, the legroom is nearly nonexistent and the live radio is completely busted, with the exception of the CD player.
âAll jazz?â You question, shuffling through a neat book of Felixâs CD collection.
âYeah,â Felix replies, two hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts in his seat. âTheyâre mostly just whateverâs cheapest.â
âI can tell,â you say with a chuckle, reaching the last page, where Four Decades of Jazz now occupies a sleeve of its own. You pop the CD into the player, turning the volume up a few notches and sitting back comfortably as the melodic tune of a saxophone fills the space around you.
âWhatâs this next place again?â Felix asks, as you shut your eyes and listen to the jazzy beat.
Youâve stopped at three locations already, all spots in Ember youâre particularly fond of. The old bridge that runs over train tracks, a narrow pathway into another world in late evenings. Itâs always surrounded by starlings, which flock when the trains pass through and chirp songs that mirror the trainâs cacophonous whistle.
The cathedral just north of your record shop, which you donât attend regularly like the other town-goers do, but always greets you graciously with its towering stained glass windows and crested walls.
And a now abandoned grocery store just a few blocks away, the walls on the back now housing impressive graffiti murals and doodles.
âThis last one is a more scenic spot,â you finally respond, opening your eyes as his car passes over a speed bump. âItâs my favorite one.â
Felix just nods as he continues driving, the road narrowing into a one-way route, the area surrounded by wet grassland and barely visible amidst the thick fog.
âWhatâs the whole premise of this project?â You ask him, realizing you havenât quite figured out what part you play in this, anyway.
Felix is silent for a moment, his hands rotating over the wheel as he turns into another narrow road.
âItâs just a photography project. About observing your surroundings.â
âWhy does it have to be here?â
And he smiles, chuckling lightly to himself, as he reaches a hand out and sprawls his palm over your mouth.
âYou ask so many questions! You havenât changed at all.â
You respond in muffled laughter, prying his hand off your mouth with two hands and shoving it back toward the steering wheel.
âIâm just curious!â
Your shared giddy laughter fills the car for several minutes, exchanging amused glances as he pulls into an open parking lot and circles around to look for a spot. And you let your fingertips graze along your cheek, briefly, remembering the sensation of his hand on you very well.
*
The fourth spot is a spacious grassland just past the hills, not necessarily a hidden gem by the townâs standards, but a place you discovered shortly after you moved out here. It requires hopping a fence to access, jogging down a steep dirt path and then marching back up a grassy hill to make it to your âsweet spotâ- or a little dip in the top of the hill, perfect for setting up a picnic blanket and sitting upon for hours.
And of course the best part about it- the view. The whole town is visible from up here, the little buildings and shops you know so intimately an entirely different perspective from this height. Sometimes you imagine what you look like from this view- just a tiny speck of a human in a town not much bigger, crossing back and forth between your apartment, the diner and the record shop.
âYou got it?â You ask Felix as he hoists himself up the last stretch of grass, balancing his camera in his hands and dusting off his jeans.
âYeah,â he replies, coming around to occupy the spot next to you on the grass. You sit back on your hands, your legs crossed at the ankles as you take in the view you know so well. Felix sits cross-legged, toying with the lens of his camera as he prepares to snap a few photos.
âItâs nice up here,â he comments, filling the silence with the clicking noises of his camera.
âYeah,â you respond shortly, your gaze fixed on the record shop. âItâs a pretty special place.â
He turns the lens, bringing his camera up and snapping a series of photos as you watch him out of your peripheral vision.
âHowâd you find it?â Felix asks, scanning the photos and going to take another set.
âI get around,â you reply with a smile, keeping your answer short.
He takes one last set of photos, angling his camera at different sides, and when heâs done, he carefully places the camera in his carrier bag and leans back on his hands, too.
âYou really have things figured out here,â Felix says a little quietly, turning to look at you while you keep your gaze straight ahead.
âI didnât have a choice. It was up to me to keep things going.â
âAnd⊠howâs your mom?â He replies quietly.
You shake your head, adjusting your position so that youâre sitting cross-legged, too.
âI donât know. Last I heard she was out west. New boyfriend or something.â
Felix nods reluctantly, not wanting to press the issue further.
âIt wasnât your fault,â he chimes in suddenly. âI hope you didnât leave thinking that.â
âItâs fine,â you reply, brushing him off.
âNo, listen to me,â Felix continues, turning to face you. âI know you hate talking about it. And I wonât bring it up again. But none of this was your fault. And that summer I wanted so badly to fix everything and take away your pain, and I just⊠I couldnât. And Iâm sorry.â
You donât say anything to him, fidgeting with a blade of grass on the ground below you and reminding yourself to keep it together. Donât cry. Donât feel.
âYouâre doing that thing again,â Felix says bluntly, like he can read your thoughts.
âWhat thing-â
âThat thing. Where you donât let yourself feel.â
âI feel a lot of things, Felix.â
âThen why havenât we talked about it yet?â
âTalked about about what?â
âWhy you left,â he finally finishes, huffing frustratedly. âWhy are we not addressing it? Am I supposed to just act like it didnât happen?â
âFelix, I really think-â
âYou said you would stay and fight for what was ahead of us. And then you disappeared on me. You know how hard it was to go on with my life like you werenât a missing person for all I knew? You didnât even call.â
âI changed my number,â you say quietly.
âYeah, I figured that much after three years.â
Felix gets quiet again, shaking his head as he turns his gaze back to the view. You donât say anything for a moment, his words swirling in your mind as your heart beats erratically. Thereâs so much to say- so much you want to explain to him. But the words are caught in the back of your throat, dissipating with every passing second you fail to vocalize them. He glances at you again, hoping youâll come around- but you donât, your gaze now transfixed on the blade of grass that rolls between the pads of your fingers.
âI understand if you donât want to talk about it,â Felix finally says. âAnd⊠Iâm sorry.â
A copper sunset falls over the buildings below you, casting shadows around you that dance along the blades of grass and disappear over the rolling hills. They shift from massive charcoal forms into smaller shapes that sway with the setting sun, quick to get away from you and disappear when they graze over your seated figures.
âYou know there was a fire here, like, 50 years ago,â you say to Felix, still averting eye contact.
âThere was?â
âMhm. See there?â You question, pointing out a vast, empty field and gesturing to the buildings across from it.
âIt started east, and it traveled west. And everything there burned, and a few people even died.â
âWow,â Felix responds. âI didnât know that. Thatâs terrible.â
âA lot of the neighboring cities didnât know this place existed. But when they heard about the fire, many of them came out here, just to donate and help build things back up. Even the record shop burned. The one we have now is a lot smaller.â
He nods as he listens to your story, glancing back at the town as he pictures the blazing flames that ate away most of its structure back then.
âI always think about it,â you continue. âEveryday I imagine how hard it mustâve been to pick up and build things from the ground up again. Chrisâ grandfather did it, with the record shop. And the diner did it. And theyâre still doing it, keeping things running the way they are.â
Felix nods again, turning to look at you as you watch the town.
âNo one couldâve prevented the fire. They could pick up and move on, but things still burned before they did, and people still died.â
Felix begins to say something, his lips parting, but his breath hitches in the back of his throat, and he settles in silence as you finish.
âIâm somewhere there,â you say to him after a silent pause. âIâm somewhere between the fire and the mending.â
And he doesnât have to say anything else, understanding that this is your way of explaining things.
As darkness begins to fall over you both, you think back to the last time you sat with him like this, on the old hill in your hometown, waiting for a sunrise that never came around. You had passed the time kissing and touching each other so desperately, speaking visions of a new life into existence and making hushed promises to embrace the end together. An end that came to fruition without him, one you ran from before could look it in its face and brave it with Felix by your side.
But here on the familiarity of your hill, looking over a town that burned like the flames inside of you do now, you know thereâs good, there are people who will make the journey to help you rebuild no matter what their reservations previously were. But it also takes time, and patience, and the strength to admit things have turned to ash in the first place.
And sometimes, like this town, things and people turn to Ember, a dim glowing reminder of what happened always present still.
*
Soul-searching capital of the world. 6:00pm. On the cusp of winter.
âThink youâre ready?â You query at Felix, pulling the straw out from your vanilla milkshake to lick the other end.
âI think so,â he responds, sorting through a stack of photos on the table.
âFelix, your whipped cream,â Yena says as she turns the corner and sets a small bowl down in front of him.
âThank you,â Felix replies with a small smile, already spooning a generous amount into his coffee.
The last two weeks have been cordial between the two of you, a sense of normalcy finally present during your time together as Felix wrapped up his photography shots and developed them at the convenience store in town. The pictures are beautiful, little precious neutral-toned glimpses into your everyday life and the town you love so much. It feels like Felix finally understands you, neither pressing you for answers anymore, nor trying to initiate anything more between the two of you like youâd feared. And although the photography sessions have spanned a little more time than youâd originally anticipated they would, youâre well aware this will all be over soon, and then you can get back to the normal, simple life you lead, without having to look introspectively at the state of things. Youâre fine, and Felix doesnât force you to think about it anymore.
âI just have to submit these, and then Iâll be done for the semester,â Felix explains.
âAre you staying in town for the holidays?â You ask suddenly, realizing youâve never even inquired what his plans are for after this photography project is finished.
âI donât know,â Felix responds, glancing at the stack of photos. âI donât really have any solid plans.â
You donât miss the way he fidgets with the ring on his finger, averting your gaze and swallowing nervously. Itâs another habit Felix possesses, getting you to drag him along practically anywhere, but itâs hard to say no when he makes every effort to be so polite and forgiving.
You sigh deeply, praying you wonât regret the words before they leave your mouth.
âLook, a couple friends I have throw a party every year around the holidays. We just get together to smoke and talk. You can come, if you want.â
Felixâs expression brightens almost instantly, meeting your gaze again with big hopeful eyes and a beaming smile.
âReally?â
âDonât make it weird,â you say, chuckling softly. âItâs just a small thing to unwind.â
âIâll be there,â Felix responds with a nod. âAnd I wonât make it weird, I promise.â
âSoâŠâ Yena teases, sliding into the booth across from you and raising her eyebrows. âWhatâs⊠going on between you two?â
âWho?â You question, cocking your head slightly.
âOh come on,â she emphasizes. âYou guys are attached at the hip. We barely get girl time together anymore. He canât just be an old friend.â
âHe is,â you voice back. âWe just go way back, thatâs all.â
âHeâs cute,â she says, glancing out the window at Felixâs lanky figure making his way back to his car. You both watch as he struggles to get his car open, yanking on the door handle a little hard and stumbling back.
âWell heâs single,â you retort with a soft chuckle. âSo if you ever get tired of Chris, heâs your guy.â
âI see the way he looks at you,â Yena explains, as she pulls out her notepad and adds her tips for the evening. âLike he has stars in his eyes or something. I remember when Chris and I met, he was a lot like that.â
âYena, weâre really not-â
âI know,â she says, shaking her head with a smile. âFeelings, feelings. Yuck. Iâm just saying.â
You turn your gaze toward the window again, watching as Felix starts his car and backs out of the parking lot, strands of his ebony hair falling into his eyes as he checks behind him.
And Yena smiles, taking notice out of her peripheral vision at the stars in your eyes, too.
*
Seungminâs annual holiday party is a tradition you joined in on the first year you moved out here. Working at the record shop your first year, you had no friends, no family and you were completely isolated from the town when you werenât picking up shifts. He was a regular customer with a knack for old rock records, and he pitied the shifts you worked while the rest of the town mingled at their annual holiday events youâd hear so much about. An invitation to his holiday party was a big feat for you, not only because it was one of the first events you attended here, but because it allowed you to spend the holidays alongside people again, something you hadnât done since your fatherâs passing. And thus, Seungmin invites you back every year, never missing a chance to talk records with you and challenge you to eggnog shots.
âI just want to pop these in the trunk really quick,â you say as you open the car door on the passenger side and gesture for the key from Felix. âI usually lend Seungmin a few spare records we have-â
Felix hasnât registered a word youâve said, completely entranced by the way your short skirt hugs your hips, a black leather coat thrown over your shoulders and a different pair of sneakers than heâs used to seeing. Itâs much different than how heâs normally seen you, dressed down in sweaters and baggy jeans.
And Felix looks particularly dashing, too, his ebony hair tied up again to display his impressive collection of ear piercings, a fitted leather jacket hugging his slim figure and black jeans that elongate his legs. You give him a once-over as he cranes his neck from the driverâs seat and tosses you the keys, unable to verbalize his regard for your outfit. But as you make your way around the car to the trunk, popping it open and placing Seungminâs stack of records inside, he canât help but stare in the interior view mirror at the way your skirt rides up when you bend over, exposing a little more of your thighs and leaving little to the imagination.
The drive to Seungminâs is only a few blocks down from Ember Records, one which Felix completes while stealing very obvious glances at you and making every attempt to calm his erratically beating heart. You pretend the glances go unnoticed, keeping your gaze on the darkened road ahead and making small talk about the party. But you donât miss the way Felixâs voice hitches in the back of his throat when he speaks, his trembling hands turning the wheel as he pulls into the cul-de-sac and puts the car in park.
And he wants nothing more than to stay here, with you, to sit in his dingy little car and talk with you about everything that happened, to assure you that youâre not alone in your process of mending- heâll love you through it, regardless. But as Seungmin makes his way out the front door with a red solo cup in hand, calling loudly for you, Felix knows thatâs not a possibility.
âY/n!â Seungmin exclaims, a big toothy grin plastered on his face at the sight of you. Heâs a bit taller than Felix is, long legs that frame his slim torso, and a chiseled jawline that makes Felix a little jealous. His voluminous chocolate tresses fall into his eyes as he speaks, and he uses a slender hand to push them away again, shooting you another flashy smile as he chuckles lightly.
âWhatâd you bring me this time?â He asks, balancing the presumed cup of alcohol in one hand as he watches you retreat to the trunk of the car.
âCouple rock, some alternative and that one artist you liked last time?â
âHell yeah,â Seungmin replies, as he takes the records from your grasp and shuffles through them eagerly.
Felix clears his throat as he stands beside you, his hands shoved awkwardly in the pockets of his leather jacket as he waits for an introduction.
âSorry,â you voice, stepping aside and gesturing to Felix.
âThis is Felix. Heâs an old friend of mine.â
Seungmin hardly looks up from his stack of records, just briefly glancing at Felix and giving him a small nod.
âHey man. Cool to meet you.â
And Felixâs lips pull into a thin-lipped smile, averting his gaze, too, as he nods.
âYeah. Same.â
Your eyes dart between Seungmin and Felix, both of them painfully awkward as they stand beside you, avoiding eye contact like some unspoken challenge and looming over you like youâre meant to be the host.
âShould we get inside?â You finally ask, wrapping your arms around yourself and gesturing to the house with a tilt of your head.
âYeah, sorry,â Seungmin says with a soft chuckle, still averting Felixâs gaze and pivoting on his heel to begin toward the house. Felix gestures for you to follow, trailing behind you and doing his best to steady his nerves as the three of you finally make your way inside.
The house is already crowded for the evening, people standing just about everywhere, red cups in hand and joints pinched between their fingers. They exhale white clouds of smoke as they converse amongst themselves, their eyes all tainted red, as they let all the weed and alcohol consume their consciousness and instill a calm demeanor in themselves. Felix finds himself standing a little closer to you as you approach the sofa everyoneâs sitting around, their bodies lazily slung over one another as they chat and drink.
âY/nâs here,â Seungmin says, as he passes the sofa and heads into what Felix presumes to be his bedroom, with the stack of records in hand.
âHey!â They call in misarticulated voices. You make your rounds, greeting each of them and exchanging brief anecdotes with them, while Felix remains standing with his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the way you smile cheerfully and acquaint yourself with everyone in the room.
You look so relaxed, so well-adjusted to your new life in this little town. As stories are thrown back and forth between yourself and the guests, Felix wonders how long youâve known them to be able to converse with them to such an intimate extent. They share stories of your shifts at work, stories of previous parties, tales of past lovers theyâve had and late nights all of you spent up in this exact household. Felix canât help but wonder what he was doing during those moments- probably studying for a test at university, or hooking up with someone he didnât exactly care for. And by nighttime, he was likely up thinking of you- pondering where youâd gone, what you were up to. If you thought about him just as much as he thought about you.
Part of him wants to be angry, listening in on your stories like this- youâre laughing about parties, exchanging tales of difficult customers- moments that occurred while he was up waiting for you, hoping one day youâd change your mind about everything and return. Felix swore every sunset began to look the same without you there to watch them alongside him, every sunrise much bleaker than the last- even the stars heâd gaze at through his window seemed to lose their meaning.
But watching you like this, a smile that hasnât left your face once since entering the house and the familiar sound of your harmonious laughter, he knows maybe you did the right thing, after all. Maybe Felix wasnât a part of this plan life had for you- and perhaps, itâs time to come to terms with the fact that he never will be.
âFelix?â You question, effectively snapping him out of the trance heâs fallen into just by watching you.
âHuh?â He responds, aware that the row of guests on the couch appear to be waiting for him to say something.
âHow long are you here for?â One of them repeats, his stare a little cold as he raises his eyebrows and prompts an answer out of Felix.
âOh, uh⊠Iâm not sure yet. Just for the holidays, I guess.â
They nod in collective unison, no one saying a word as they gauge how nervous he seems to be. And you shoot them an apologetic smile, also clocking Felixâs awkward demeanor as he remains silent and avoids carrying on with the conversation.
âAnyone got a light?â You finally break the silence, and everyone chimes in to answer, offering you joints from between their fingers and fishing colorful lighters out from their pockets. You take a seat on the rug, patting the space next to you, and Felix follows your lead, crossing his legs in the spot beside you and taking a hit from the joint you offer him.
Felix feels himself calm a little as the mellow sensation begins to wash over him, his worries dissipating as he listens to you begin to share another story with the group of people. And his mind wanders back to the past, contemplating your actions and mirroring them with the current state of things.
Three hours into the party, youâre both a little buzzed, feeling much more mellow than you had upon entering, despite taking only one hit from a joint. The room is heavy with thick clouds of smoke, the pungent smell of weed and alcohol present at every corner of the room. Just sitting here and talking gets you high, and you find yourself enjoying the company alongside Felix.
It reminds you of back then, when you and Felix used to attend parties together and run off to random bedrooms for a quick fuck. Youâd often find yourself leaving early to spend time just between the two of you, hitting all your signature spots to catch sunrises or binge greasy food. And Felix feels much more relaxed around you now, making small talk with the guests and observing the way you try your hardest to include him in the conversations. As Seungmin takes another hit from his joint, he slouches back in the concave leather of the couch, his gaze darting over the two of you as Felix eyes you curiously.
âSo whatâs the deal between you two?â He asks, narrowing his eyes as he awaits a response.
âWeâre just old friends-â Felix begins to say, but you interrupt him before Seungmin can catch the answer.
âHeâs my best friend.â
Felixâs head snaps in your direction, unsure if maybe he heard you incorrectly, or if youâre genuinely claiming that Felix, whose guts youâve hated for the better part of three years now, is your best friend.
âBest friends?â Seungmin repeats in slurred speech, and you give him a nod.
âYeah,â you say again confidently. âHeâs my best friend.â
And Felixâs lips pull into an involuntary smile, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red as he reaffirms your words.
When you turn to smile at him, he pats the space in front of him, extending his legs so that heâs created a spot for you to settle in. And in your buzzed, mellowed out state, you comply, scooting back and slotting yourself between his long legs, letting yourself lean back against his chest and shutting your eyes briefly. Felix reluctantly brings two hands around you, holding you a little closer to him, but you donât protest the action, the familiar sensation of his arms around you feeling comfortable and safe like it always used to.
âIâd think you guys were fucking if I didnât know any better,â Seungmin voices, joining a chorus of laughter as he brings the joint up to his lips again.
âSo what if we were?â You retort casually, feeling the way Felixâs embrace gets a little tighter around you.
âNothing wrong with it. Itâs just easy to see through you guys. Especially the way this Danny from Grease wannabe looks at you.â
And Felixâs eyes furrow at the statement, well aware of the fact that Seungminâs begun to get a little aggressive, but not wanting to incite anything that might jeopardize your friendships.
âI should probably go,â Felix says just above a whisper, his mouth hovering just over your shoulder so that you can hear him over all the noise.
âWhat? No,â you reply, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wide, his lip trembling a little as he speaks. Felix isnât confrontational- a fact youâre very aware of.
âI donât want to start anything-â he begins to say, and you place a hand on his forearm comfortingly.
âThen letâs both get out of here. Iâm kinda bored, anyway.â
Heâs surprised at the offer- and undoubtedly moved by the prospect that youâve chosen to stick with him instead of stay here at the party with all your friends. And because he wants to spend the time with you, he doesnât protest when you turn to voice your decisions to the crowd.
âWell Danny from Grease and I are getting out of here. So you can let your imaginations run wild since youâre so obsessed with us.â
Seungmin chuckles lightly, too stoned to ask you to stay, and candidly, to care about any of it.
âMy old records are on the kitchen table,â Seungmin says, as he shuts his eyes and exhales a generous cloud of smoke. âCatch you guys later.â
*
âWhere are we going?â Felix asks, as he puts the car into park and watches you unbuckle your seatbelt.
âI have to put the records I lent to Seungmin back in the shop. Itâll only take like two minutes.â
He nods in response, his gaze fixed on the darkened record shop, not used to seeing it at this hour.
âYou coming?â You ask him, gesturing to the door, and Felix snaps out of his tranced state, unbuckling his seatbelt, too.
As you twist your keys and push the door open, Felix feels a bit unsettled seeing the shop at this hour. The shelves are pitch dark at the hour, the usually colorful vinyl all looking indistinguishable as they sit in stacks against each other and gather dust. The neon sign above the CD wall is shut off, not even the gentle hum of the bulb present amongst the silence. And the doorway to the back room looks like something out of a horror movie, seeming as though someone- or something, could pop out at any given moment. It feels wrong being here- and he knows he probably shouldnât be, but heâs not in the place to leave your side just yet.
âDonât turn on the lights,â you say to Felix when you enter, him following closely behind you. âI donât want anyone to know weâre here.â
You begin toward the back room, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Felix is following. And he is, albeit reluctantly.
The back room is much smaller than Felix had originally anticipated it to be. It smells of paint, looking far more run-down than the rest of the store, and heâs not sure how anyone can take a lunch break back here considering the lack of table space and seating options.
âThis is the break room?â Felix asks, squinting his eyes when you pull the chain beside the medallion lamp and illuminate the room with a dim, orange glow.
âYeah,â you reply, now shuffling through Seungminâs old records and putting them in their respective genres. âThis is where I eat my sandwiches.â
He chuckles softly, running his hands over the series of music posters pinned to the cork walls, taking in the view you see everyday at noon.
âThereâs a record player in here!â Felix exclaims, bending down to examine the 6200 marantz wood turntable on a little cart, just to the left of the dining table.
âWell this is a record shop, you reply with a chuckle, slotting the last few of Seungminâs vinyl into the shelf. âIt wouldnât make sense if we didnât have one.â
âDoes it work?â Felix asks, tracing the silicone grooves of the platter with his fingers.
âOf course,â you respond, finally turning around to meet his gaze. âPick something.â
Felix scans the shelves at the neat rows of vinyl, all packed together and indistinguishable from their thin colorful spines alone. He pulls one out, examining illustrations of flowers on the cover, and then slots it back into its respective home. Another flaunts an abstract pattern of cool-toned hues, which Felix observes briefly, and places it back where it belongs, too.
âI canât decide,â he voices plainly, his eyes scanning over the rows that span the entire length of the room, some of them visibly much older than the rest.
Your fingers graze the spines, too; letting the cracked ridges serve as indication of their age, and then you pinch one between the pads of your fingers, pulling it out to examine the cover. Itâs painted sky blue, with images of autumnal trees that stand tall and contrast the gentle hues nicely. In bold red cursive text, the title is scrawled at the top, followed by a brief list of credits and arrangements.
âThe Seasons, by Tchaikovsky,â you read aloud.
You recall putting this one on the shelf after a donation a few weeks prior, never having listened to it yourself.
âWill you play it?â Felix asks, and you nod your head in response, already pulling out the black disc and placing it neatly on the record platter. You flip it on, and then bring the tonearm to a random spot, letting the cue lever lower it into place and begin playing. After a few seconds of fidgeting with the volume, the soft sounds of piano begin to fill the room, a somber arrangement that slows into gentler, discoordinate notes.
âThis oneâs probably winter,â you say to Felix, hoisting yourself up on the table and sitting on your hands. âIt sounds sad.â
âYeah,â he responds, his eyes fixated on the slow turn of the disc, a soft crackling noise emitting as the tonearm runs over the grooves.
Felix suddenly reaches for the bag slung over his shoulder, unzipping the pouch and pulling out his camera.
âWhat are you doing?â You ask with a soft chuckle, amused at the way he so quickly rushes to adjust the settings.
âI want to take a picture. Itâs a nice record player.â
And with the rhythmic click of the lens, he snaps a series of photos, angling himself a bit higher to capture every moving part of the old thing. When heâs finished, he examines the photos himself, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks over the moment in time captured so perfectly on the little screen of his device. Without warning you, Felix then holds the camera up once more, snapping a quick photo of you and chuckling softly to himself.
âStop!â You say through laughter, holding a hand up to shield your face as he snaps a few more. âFelix, Iâm serious!â
âItâs just for me!â Felix exclaims, bringing his camera down again and scrolling through the candid photos.
As he examines them, you notice how close he is to you now, standing in between your legs that hang lazily off the edge of the table, his frame towering over yours.
He meets your gaze again after a moment, taking notice of the proximity, too, and swallowing nervously.
âYou used to let me take pictures of you,â Felix says after a moment of silence.
âThat was so long ago,â you reply with a smile. âThings are different now.â
His eyes dart over your bare face, your eyes a little hooded from exhaustion and the mellowed state that overtake your body. Itâs a sight familiar to him, still, the way you keep your words short when youâre not asking him questions, nothing except a small knowing smile on your face. But itâs one heâs thought about for so long, painting pictures of you in his head and scanning old photos, like your physical state would somehow come to fruition the more he studied it.
âPlease let me take a few more,â Felix says, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes flicker between your lips and your gaze. He knows youâre going to say no, go away, or some other version of it.
But this time, you donât, taking careful note of the way he so politely asks for what he wants. Memories of him have plagued your mind all night, the feeling of his hands around you still lingering on your body, recalling the way he used to ask so politely to fuck you in the bathroom of house parties like you wouldnât say yes every single time.
And in the absence of your words, you slide your coat off, discarding it on the table behind you and keeping your gaze locked on his, in just a tight-fitting t-shirt and skirt.
Felix brings his camera up immediately, lest you change your mind like he knows you probably will, and adjusts his lens again, before snapping a single photo of you, sitting so innocently on the table in the back room of the record shop. Your expression remains unchallenged, your eyes softening a little as he pulls away to look at you again. And this time, you let two hands cross over your torso, pulling up the corners of your shirt and letting it ride up until itâs nearly off of you. Felix doesnât waste any time, bringing his camera to eye-level again and snapping a photo eagerly, his eyes wide as he observes the sight of your hardened nipples through the lens.
The discoordinate piano music still plays from behind him, its tempo increasing gradually as you let one hand position itself over the mound of your breast, kneading gently as Felix positions his camera to zoom in. He snaps another set of photos, bringing his camera even closer to capture you at every erotic angle, and then he pauses briefly, as your hands move to your skirt.
You tug gently, not yet pulling it off, and his photos capture the moment you finally undo the small zipper on the side, revealing the hem of your lace panties to him and looping a finger through them. He feels his breath hitch in his throat, wanting to clarify that heâs not forcing you to do any of this, but too mesmerized to ask you to stop.
And then before he can verbalize his thoughts, youâre tugging the skirt down, too, pulling it off over your sneakers to discard it on the floor below you. Felix canât look away from the sight, your body hugged so delicately in lace lingerie, your legs parted a little for his photos and practically begging him to come touch you. And yet you say nothing, amused at the sight of Felix gasping over your sitting figure, letting him take the reins and do whatever it is he pleases, even if the implications are clouded by your past.
Felixâs slender hands snap a few more photos, focusing meticulously on your clothed core and your hardened nipples for his own personal use. And then he sets his camera down at his waist again, pulling the camera strap off his body and shoving it back into his satchel. When he turns to say something, he canât, still entranced by the familiar feeling in his stomach at the body heâs bore witness to so many times.
âFelix,â you say softly, coaxing him to come a little closer.
He obliges, lips parted nervously, as he takes another step forward and allows your legs to rest casually on his.
âI meant to ask you,â you say, cocking your head slightly, bringing one hand up to caress his cheek with your thumb.
âYeah,â he says, his voice just barely above a whisper. âAnything.â
âWhere have all your freckles gone?â You finally ask, observing the way his skin still runs completely clear around his cheeks and eyes, not a hint of a galaxy visible to you, even at this proximity to him.
âMakeup,â Felix responds with a soft chuckle. âThey didnât match my new look.â
And you bring your other hand to his other cheek, grazing your thumbs over his soft skin, before pressing down a little harder and wiping the foundation off of him. Heâs right- the beige stars youâd remembered so well begin to appear once again, scattered generously across his button nose and his big eyes. He lets you rub it off of him, not taking his eyes off of yours as you rid him clean of the stuff and then graze your thumbs over him again, in much gentler motions.
âThatâs better,â you reply, your eyes darting between his now visible freckles and his plump, parted lips. âTheyâre my favorite part about you.â
And Felix doesnât respond, his mind running rampant with thoughts and intentions, as he brings his lips a little closer to yours and finally kisses you, like heâs been dreaming of doing all winter.
You reciprocate instantly, your hands cupping the back of his neck as his lips work against yours, desperately leaning into you and letting his hands snake down the sides of your waist. His kisses are familiar, so reminiscent of years past when heâd kiss you exactly like this, in the proximity of whatever house party bathroom you could run off to and let him have his way with you. And Felix remembers the sensation all too well, this mutual pining of silently yearning for each other in the presence of other strangers until he could confess his love to you through whispered love making sessions when you were finally alone. Felix whimpers softly between kisses, as your hands snake up his t-shirt and graze along the toned flesh of his abdomen. You hum in response, letting your hands tangle in his hair now as he presses further into you and works gentle kisses down your neck. Both your hands find his silky ponytail, pulling off his hair tie in one swift motion and tossing it aside so that his long tresses hang loosely in front of his face, and you tangle your fingers in his ebony roots, tugging slightly as you pull him into your embrace and feel him trail back up to your lips. He pulls away momentarily to gauge your expression, worried you might ask him to stop, but your eyes are wide with anticipation, your breaths labored as you pull him into you again and arch your back into him. You can feel Felix smile into the kiss, satisfied with the turn of events from tonight's party- heâd been so certain you would leave with Seungmin, or shut him out again. But here in the dimly lit room of the record shop, your lips on his as your hands trail lower to unbuckle his belt, thereâs no denying you want this just as badly as he does.
And Felix canât help but wonder how long have things been this way- had something changed at the party? Something that wouldâve led you to call him a âbest friendâ rather than an old one, leave the party with him and even drag him to the record shop after hours, knowing very well you couldâve come alone? Something that instilled an equal sense of desperation in you, to want his lips on yours as badly as he does right now, your bodies yearning for each other like you once did, as you undo his belt buckle and snake it out from his belt loops to discard it on the floor?
Heâs not entirely sure- but he also canât think straight when your hands are tugging at the hem of his jeans, begging him to take them off and mirror the same level of undress you are now. What he can think about are your lips working against his, the gasps that escape you when he grazes his fingers down your sides between kisses and the forte echo of Tchaicovskyâs piano record filling the room with sultry harmonies.
As Felix unbuttons his jeans, you help him tug them down so that theyâre pooled around his ankles, the two of you now equal parts undressed and grabbing desperately at the now exposed flesh. You let your hand find Felixâs, wrapping your fingers around his slender wrist, and then bringing it to your panties, where you rest his hand against your clothed core and allow him to graze over your growing wetness.
âJesus,â Felix exhales, pressing his middle and ring finger down against your core and rubbing in slow, back and forth motions. âI forgot how horny you get when you smoke.â
And you chuckle lightly, not breaking eye contact as he continues to rub you over your lace panties, the wetness against your thin fabric increasing with every gentle movement of his fingers.
âWill you do something about it?â You ask sweetly, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
Felix cocks his head slightly, a smug expression pulling on his lips as he works you a little faster now.
âWhat do you want me to do about it?â
You chuckle in response, growing impatient as he teases your aching clit over the fabric of your panties and keeps his gaze on yours. Heâs calculated with his movements, rubbing in gentle motions, pressing down firmly with every other stroke to watch the way your legs squirm desperately around him and ache for more.
âDonât make me ask,â you say shyly, your hips rutting toward him to chase the friction of his fingers.
Felixâs gaze drops to your core, his lips parted with curiosity at the sight of you now rocking gently toward him, letting your movements do the pleasing as he almost entirely stops rubbing you.
âWhat if I wanted you to ask for it?â Felix says briskly, a serious expression on his face as he pulls his hand away from you momentarily.
âFelix, you already know what I-â
âAsk for it,â Felix interrupts, keeping his gaze locked on yours now. His eyes are hooded with lust, his eyebrows slanted in a challenging expression as he waits for you to say something. And he knows heâs never been one to make you ask for it- in fact, he was usually the one doing all the begging, whining when youâd take too long to touch him or begging you to let him finish. But coupled with the recent development of his new look, you canât help but wonder if itâs not the only thing thatâs changed about him.
âAsk for it,â Felix states again. âOr Iâll get dressed again.â
And you canât bring yourself to, still riddled with questions at the peculiar phenomenon of Felix making you ask for sex, desperate to ask if this is a one-time occurrence, or if heâs intent on getting you to beg for his cock from here on out. Does he make all his hookups beg for it like this? Do they oblige without question, or are they just as taken aback with it as you are?
When Felix takes note of your silence, he doesnât waste another second, pulling up his jeans again and beginning to work the buttons once more. And you feel your heartbeat quicken at the sight, disheartened at the action and still desperate for him to touch you, to fuck you, like your bodyâs been craving the past hour youâve been back here.
In a desperate attempt to stop him, your hands reach out, grasping his wrists in yours and watching the way his cock remains tented under the denim fabric of his jeans.
âPlease,â you say shortly, a sheepish pout on your face.
âPlease what?â He responds, cocking his head to gauge your reaction.
âPlease would you fuck me?â You finally say, exhaling frustratedly and flickering your gaze away from him, almost embarrassed to be asking him like this. But Felixâs lips pull into a toothy grin, leaning back into you for a kiss and beginning to work his jeans off of him again.
âWas that so hard?â He mumbles against your lips teasingly.
âMhm,â you murmur back against him, hearing his jeans pool around his ankles once again as his hands cup around the small of your back.
âIt was?â Felix queries, one hand looping through the hem of your panties and grazing along the elastic. âIf I remember correctly, we used to play this little game all the time.â
You gasp a little as he pulls the elastic between the pads of his fingers, letting it snap against your delicate skin again and rest against your reddened skin momentarily. Felix observes the way you say nothing, waiting for him to undress you, touch you- anything, without so much as a plea for him to do so. And heâs undeniably roused seeing you this desperate for him, adjusting your position on the table to calm your pulsating core, your hands searching for him and your lips trying so hard to keep purchase on his. Felix feels his cock swell at the confirmation that perhaps you have been thinking of this just as much as he has, and that maybe leaving was the hardest thing you ever did, the way he always hoped it was.
âAre you sure about this?â Felix asks before he can ponder the words.
And in painfully slow movements, you find the hem of your elastic waistband yourself, tugging it down and breaking away from the kiss to snake it off your ankles and discard it onto the floor. The sight alone is confirmation enough for him- your pussy is glistening with wetness, your folds coated generously in your own arousal and your aching clit a robust shade of pink as you wait for him to finish his little game of neglect. Felix canât even respond at the sight of your cunt on display for him, too engrossed in the familiarity of what it looked like all those past years, exactly like this, begging for him and only him. On the counters of bathroom sinks, in empty fields, in the back of your car and even when his fingers were shoved in it under blankets in a room full of people. Always taking him so wholly and effortlessly, like your cunt was made to have him fill it, squirming around him with hushed moans and whimpers, your bodies intertwining into one tangled mess of pleasure and pure, unadulterated love for one another.
âFelix, please fuck me,â You repeat, a small smirk on your face as you watch Felix stumble over his words, his cock fully erect in the fabric of his boxers.
And Felix canât answer you, already attaching his lips to yours again and letting his hands come around your back to unclasp your bra. His motions are much quicker now, no lingering intention to make you ask for it or confirm your stance- but every intention to fuck you, fill you, like he knows you deserve.
When your bra is unfastened, he tosses it aside, letting his hands find the mounds of your breasts and kneading them with steady motions. You moan into his mouth as he works you, your legs wrapping around his hips to press his clothed cock into your wetness and grind softly against you. Felix winces at the sensation, doing his best to stave off a premature orgasm while you rut your hips gently against him and let your head fall back in pleasure. And mirroring the pleasurable sensation of his thumbs rubbing circular motions over your nipples, he brings his mouth down to your chest, taking a breast in his mouth and sucking with little whimpers. Your head comes forward to meet his gaze again, his big, innocent eyes locked on yours as he takes the flesh between his lips and swirls his tongue around your nipple. His plump lips remain locked around your mound, alternating between gentle kisses and then back to sucking on your nipple, like he might coax fluids out of it if he tries enough. And he looks so guiltless, so incorrupt as he lets his eyelids flutter shut and your nipple graze his teeth. His actions almost donât match this darkened, grunge appearance he now sports- and you swear you can still see the blonde locks that once framed his wide eyes and his bright appearance.
As Felix moves to your other nipple, you wrap your legs tighter around him, swaying your hips in gentle rocking motions to stimulate his clothed erection against your wetness and provide some relief to both of you. And he arches his eyebrows up in pleasure, stifled moans escaping his lips as he finally releases your breast from his mouth, a string of saliva connecting you still, as his gaze drops to his boxers.
Hard- heâs unbearably hard underneath his boxers, the tip of his cock kissing the constraining fabric of his boxers that ruts against your exposed clit and sends waves of pleasure through both your listless bodies. And Felix knows if he doesnât fuck you now, he might finish at the sight of you alone, your cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink and your cunt arching desperately into him as you wait for him to undress. So he does- one hand finds the elastic waistband of his black boxers, pulling them over his cock and wincing as it grazes against the precum dribbling down his tip. You run your hands over his toned abs, letting your eyes meet his cock as it protrudes so eagerly for you, and it looks almost painful how hard he is for you, reddening at the tip and dripping with beads of his preemptive arousal.
Felix leans in to kiss you again, and as he does, the bare flesh of his cock finally grazes your clit, running smoothly over your arousal and making you clench around nothing. You gasp at the sensation, scooting closer to him as your clit finally gets some attention from him, and Felix smiles as he trails his kisses down to your neck. While he sucks little bruises along the flesh there, he brings a slender hand around the base of his cock, guiding his tip back to your clit and rubbing his length along your flesh with more pressure now, a fervent moan escaping your lips as he does. He glides so effortlessly along you, your arousal allowing him to move so freely against you, still eager for him to fill you up. And when his lips move back up to yours, his hand guides his tip back and forth again, now rubbing against your clit in steady motions. He mimics the way his fingers stimulate you, only itâs better like this, your cunt contracting as you prepare to take his length.
âFelix,â you whine, as his cock rubs back and forth over your wettened entrance.
âWhat is it?â He coos gently, smiling into you as saliva dribbles between your hungry mouths.
âPut it in,â you order plainly, parting your legs a little further to signify what it is you want so badly. And Felix already knows, pressing his tip into you just a mere centimeter to gauge your reaction, satisfied at the way you whimper and push yourself against him even further.
âIs this what you want?â Felix muses, holding his base to keep from sliding into you involuntarily.
âYes,â you whine again, tangling your hands in his hair. âJust fuck me like you used to.â
And Felix feels his heartbeat quicken as the filthy memories grace his mind again, images of you exactly like this.
He says nothing, opting to end his teasing streak, as he finally steadies his hands on the sides of your waist and pushes into you, your sopping pussy taking him with complete ease. You let out a fervent moan at the feeling, your cunt clenching desperately around him as he works to bottom out inside of you and find his footing. His girth takes little to adjust to, but heâs long, taking a good minute or two until the base of his cock is disappearing inside of you and being coated in your arousal. Before even moving, his tip is grazing your cervix, the familiar feeling making your stomach turn with anticipation as you remember what it feels like.
Felixâs lips part in pleasure, his eyebrows arched up as he pulls out again and then thrusts just once, relishing in the way your pussy contracts around him again and takes him so perfectly. Your hands find purchase in his hair again, tangling in his ebony roots, as he pulls out a little, and then begins to move. His cock fills every inch of you so well, grazing every corner of your dripping cunt with such fullness, as his wet kisses work against your lips and coat your mouth in his needy saliva. Felix has always been a particularly vocal lover, you remember, as the room fills with his deep grunts and moans at every thrust. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding onto you with strength as your legs wrap around him to steady yourself and push him into you fully. Your bodies one again, your limbs tangled until it's discernible who is who atop the table like this. But when he slows his movements and kisses you tenderly, you donât care about the implications, about the past or what this will mean for your future. All you care about is Felix inside of you like he used to be for most of your relationship, making up for all this wasted time as he fucks you and breathes heavy grunts into the shell of your ear.
âGod, I missed this,â Felix breathes, his voice shaky as he continues to pump into you.
âMe too,â you moan back, lining his jaw with kisses as he moves a little faster.
âYou used to let me take pictures of you,â Felix repeats for the second time this evening. âYou remember? Used to touch yourself while Iâd snap photos of you. God, the way your fingers would disappear into your tight little pussy. Had me begging to fuck you at the end of every session, baby.â
âI remember,â you voice back in labored breaths. âYouâd fuck me so well. All you had to do was adjust that stupid lens and you had me dripping for you.â
âFuck, baby,â Felix groans, shutting his eyes as he thrusts a little harder. âGonna make me cum for you.â
âYeah?â You echo, wrapping your legs a little tighter around him and crossing them at the ankles. âWill you fill me up like you used to?â
Felix nods as his eyes remain squeezed shut, the room teeming with the squelching sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of your cunt.
âCome on, baby,â you plead, one hand angling his face toward you to press repeated, chaste kisses to his lips. âFill me up. I know you want to.â
âI do want to-â
âCum for me,â you order, grazing your free hand over his abdomen and tracing little circles over his v-line.
And Felixâs cock twitches inside of you twice, signaling his nearing finish as he quickens his pace again, now fucking you with even more force and hitting your sensitive cervix with every thrust.
âIâll let you take whatever pictures you want,â you say to him as you pull him close and nibble the lobe of his ear. âAs long as you fuck me like this every time youâre finished.â
And the promise is all it takes for Felix to reach his orgasm, his cock twitching inside you once more before he spurts ropes of his warm cum inside of you, filling your cunt with copious amounts of his arousal for you and fucking every last drop back into you. Your pussy contracts at the sensation of his warm cum grazing your insides, reaching your finish, too, as he brings a hand to rub your clit through your release. The table below you is sticky with your juices as you steady your breathing, Felix bringing a hand around the base of his cock to pull out of you and rest limply against your pulsing, sore entrance.
The room around you is quiet again, the gentle buzz of the pendant lamp replacing your moans as you let your hands wrap around him and hold him in your embrace. Felix presses a series of tender kisses to your forehead as you remain, his slender hands moving strands of sweaty hair out of your forehead to replace them with his loving kisses.
And the record has run through all its seasons now, having ended several minutes ago, as the needle runs over the last groove in repetitive clicking sounds, an indication to flip it over.
*
A precious town once set ablaze. 4:00pm. Spring on the horizon.
âTo have hysteria or mania. 7 letters.â
Felix thinks for a moment, his eyes darting up to the ceiling and then back to where Yena is sat across from him.
âMadness?â
She glances over the crossword puzzle once, counting empty little boxes, and then begins to pen in his answer.
âHow are you so good at this?â Yena asks, shaking her head. âYou could be on a crossword puzzle reality show. If that exists.â
He chuckles lightly, observing as Yena checks her watch, and then shuts the book in front of her.
âMy break is almost done,â she says as you chew on a French fry. âIâm gonna catch the bathroom really quick. You guys need anything?â
âIâm good,â you chime in, and Felix shakes his head from across you.
âThank you,â he says politely, shooting her a little smile as she slides out of the booth and back toward the kitchen.
Felixâs gaze turns back to you now, a smile on his face as you nibble the remainder of the french fry, cocking your head at his curious gaze. He doesnât say anything, but you feel his sneaker glide gently up your ankle, grazing your bare skin with the sole of his shoe and shooting you a knowing smile.
âFelix, not here,â you say, pushing him away gently with your own shoe and letting your soles rest atop his laces.
âThatâs not what you said this morning,â Felix says, swirling half-melted cubes of ice around in his glass of water.
âHarder Felix, harder!â He mimics quietly in a high-pitched voice, as he brings his glass up to his lips and takes a generous sip.
You stomp on his laces as he chuckles between sips of water, dribbling a stream from his lips when you kick him lightly in his ankles.
Donât fuck your exes.
Advice that anyone with half a brain would give you- and advice you really shouldâve taken to heart. But you canât help it, finding yourself between the sheets with Felix nearly every night for the past two weeks, his lips all over yours and pleasuring you better than youâd ever remembered it. You tell yourself youâre just making up for lost time, both of you still young and naive, all of this over once he actually leaves for college again. He stayed for Christmas, gifting you a new pair of canvas sneakers and fucking you while reruns of Christmas rom-coms played in the background of your apartment. He was your New Yearâs kiss at Seungminâs party, where you swore again that the two of you werenât dating, forcing you to press your lips to his only when you were sure the others werenât paying attention at the drop of the ball. And when youâre not picking up shifts at the record shop, youâre with him every waking second of the day, keeping Yena company during her shifts as you feign your giddy attraction to him while sheâs not looking.
Weâre not dating, youâve emphasized to Felix several times, and he doesnât fight it, giving you a knowing nod as he utters a repetitive yeah, yeah. But itâs mostly because he knows you canât say no to him, not when heâs bringing you slices of pie at work and burning CDs with all his favorite songs for you, slipping them into your bag without you even noticing until youâre home again. Of course thereâs the physical factor, too- Felix is undoubtedly your best sexual partner, and he always has been. Heâs quick to recognize when youâre aroused, slipping away with you in the backseat of his car to pleasure you, without any protest from you. Heâs also understanding of all your intimate moments together, not fighting it when you remind him this is just temporary, all while heâs thrusting into you on the back room table of the record shop at late hours of the night. He just smiles against your bruised skin, reminding you that you have yet to push him away yet. And when heâs holding you in the gentle embrace of your afterglow, pressing kisses to your skin and reminding you how beautiful heâs always thought you are, heâs right- you donât push him away from any of it. Maybe itâs the physical factor, maybe itâs little acts of service he performs to win you over. And perhaps itâs also because you donât feel so lonely for once- the last time he was beside you like this, you still had a family, one that loved Felix like their own and encouraged this shared life with him. You still had dreams of being something bigger, aspirations while you were in school and visions of a life with Felix, because back then, he was always a part of your plan. And though things are different now, his beaming smile and lighthearted jokes serve as a reminder of a simpler time, and it feels right. So you donât push him away- itâs a secret kept between the two of you, but heâs here with you, regardless.
âWill you let me take some photos of you today? â Felix inquires, flipping through the book of crossword puzzles left on the table by Yena. You watch as he adjusts the familiar fleur de lis ring on his finger before uncapping a pen and filling in one of the words.
âI have an early shift tomorrow,â you reply, toying with the crumpled straw wrapper in front of you.
âI wonât be long,â Felix retorts.
âI know, Felix, but I have to get up really early tomorrow and I-â
âLet me take you out,â Felix says, not looking up from the crossword puzzle in front of him. âJust tell me where.â
You sigh, scanning the empty tables around the diner. There are only a handful of guests at this hour, most of them elderly folk chatting quietly amongst themselves. A slow jazz tune plays overhead, and sunlight beams through the large window beside you as Felix finishes penning in an answer, shutting the book again and folding his hands in front of him to meet your gaze.
âI have something for you,â Felix adds.
âYou donât have to buy me gifts, Felix.â
âIâm aware. But this oneâs special for me, too.â
âWhat is it?ââyou ask, a growing curiosity at his words.
âI donât have it with me. Youâll have to let me give it to you later today.â
You sigh, crossing your arms in front of you and rolling your eyes sarcastically. Heâs always known how to get exactly what he wants.
âJust this one time,â you reply, knowing you sound like a broken record at how many times youâve sworn it to be just one more time.
âJust this one time,â Felix echoes, toying again with the ring on his finger.
And you nod reluctantly, agreeing to whatever heâs planned, for the purpose of pleasing him and because youâre unable to decline.
As he flips open the book again, he uncaps the pen once more, picking up where he left off and reading the question aloud to you.
âA discussion aimed at reaching an agreement,â he voices, nibbling the cap of his pen again.
âNegotiation,â you say, observing the way a smile grows on his face as he pens in your answer.
âThatâs it,â he says, gripping the pen enthusiastically as he crosses out the question.
And the sole of his shoe grazes your ankle again, trailing up your flesh teasingly as he moves onto the next.
*
âWhereâs she going?â Felix queries, reaching into the bowl of popcorn in his lap to grab another mouthful.
âI donât know,â you respond, chuckling at the way he shoves a generous portion into his mouth and chews loudly.
âIs she leaving him?â He says, pausing his chewing as the main lead in the movie makes a dramatic exit on screen.
âFelix, Iâve never seen this movie either,â you state, chuckling as he finally resumes his chewing and brushes stray kernels off his shirt.
He reaches into the bucket again, gathering a generous handful of popcorn, and then he sprawls his hand over your mouth, pushing the popcorn into your still-laughing mouth as he moves a little closer to you.
âYou argue too much!â He says between giggles, throwing his head back as he watches you try to down the handful, failing as loose kernels find purchase on your shirt, too.
You reach out to shove him playfully, and Felix intertwines his hands with yours, pulling you onto his lap as the bucket of popcorn is promptly set aside and neglected.
He doesnât even give you time to finish chewing before his lips are on yours, kissing you with such tenderness and warmth. Itâs moments like these you find yourself glad heâs here with you, grateful for his unwavering persistence to account for lost time and make amends. Of course you also know heâll be gone soon, back to university to proceed with his education while you tend to the record shop. And youâre undoubtedly a little sad about it- but you also know itâs the way things have panned out to be. Felix has blossomed into the bright young soul you always knew he was, filling the shoes of a generation of good-natured people that came before him. Heâs generous, and unselfish in his ways, and a part of you knows that leaving him was the best thing that couldâve happened to both of you.
Was sleeping with him a mistake after all this time? You wouldâve answered yes in a heartbeat, at the first instance it happened, feeling you might accidentally led Felix on and ruined things between the two of you. But the more it happened, the more it affirmed the beautiful notion that heâs just a fleeting part in this process of mending- your souls intertwining to relive memories of simpler times, connecting like they had when you once belonged together. He gives himself to you as a way of saying Iâm still here, if you need me. And you give yourself to him to respond I know, and Iâm still healing.
âYou want your gift?â Felix asks as he pulls away, his hands grazing the small of your back.
âDepends,â you say with a small smile. âIf itâs anything like your gift this morning, then yes.â
He chuckles softly, caressing the dimples in your lower back as he sits up and nods in the direction of the kitchen counter.
âIâll go get it. Be right back.â
And you slide off of him, crossing your hands between your thighs as he exits the room, the soft-spoken dialogue of the movie still playing as he shuffles about in your apartment kitchen. When he returns, his hands are behind his back, a smile plastered on his face and his eyes forming little crescents as he approaches you.
âYou have to close your eyes,â he says, kneeling down and sitting cross-legged in front of you. âAnd put out your hands.â
You oblige with an equally endeared smile, closing your eyes and cupping your hands in front of you. Felix seems to get something situated in front of you, and then you feel him place something small in the palm of your hand. Itâs cold to the touch, no bigger than an inch, and he positions it so that itâs centered perfectly in your hand.
âNow open,â Felix finally says, pulling his hands back and folding them in his lap.
You do as youâre told, your eyes fluttering open again and your gaze falling into the palm of your hand. And your heart melts instantly at the sight-
Itâs a ring- his ring, the silver fleur de lis one he always catches you staring at.
âI canât take your ring,â you say, your wide eyes meeting the crescents of his eyes that remain as he grins.
He holds his hand up, flashing you his own fleur de lis, and wiggles his fingers to show it off.
âItâs not mine,â Felix says. âI got you your own.â
And you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes, doing your very best to pull back and avoid crying in front of him. But Felix takes notice at the way your face contorts sadly, scooting closer to you and taking your hands in his.
âWhatâs wrong?â He asks, his face full of concern as you examine the ring.
âNothing,â youâre quick to respond, sniffling and rotating it between the pads of your fingers. âI justâŠâ
Felix waits for you to answer, giving your hand a little squeeze as you struggle to find your words. He knows that verbalizing your feelings isnât exactly your forte, giving you time to think over the action and speak when it feels right to you.
âYour ring,â you say with a soft chuckle. âIt was a gift from my dad.â
His expression turns serious, holding up his index finger to rotate it around in front of you. âThis one?â He inquires.
âYeah,â you respond with a smile. âThe one I gave you before we broke up. I know Iâm not the best with my words, but I never got to say thank you. You stayed up with me the night they told us he was nearing the end. And again when my mom left. And somehow you found me in this shitty little town, and I like to think itâs so that I can properly thank you for everything. Thatâs why I wanted you to have the ring.â
Felix canât properly reciprocate with a kiss while heâs sat below you like this, but he brings his lips forward to kiss your knee tenderly, staring up at you through innocent eyes and humming against your flesh.
âYou were not alone,â he says, pressing another kiss. âYouâre never alone. I would do it all over again.â
And you smile down at him, as he takes the ring from the palm of your hand and slides it onto your ring finger, an unspoken promise that heâs always going to be here to help build you up again, regardless of your reservations or your conditions. That just like this town lost itself so many years ago, thereâs always a way to build things back up again, you just have to hold onto the hope that itâs possible.
âI love it,â you say, examining the way it sits around your fingers just like his does. And Felix doesnât answer, pressing more kisses on the pads of your knees and using a hand to part your knees slightly. You take note of the way he keeps his eyes shut as he trails kisses, relishing in the way you give into his actions, laying back to part your knees and observing his eager state.
âCan I take a picture of you?â Felix asks shyly, his eyes darting over your visible crotch as your skirt rides up. You shoot him a little nod in response, gesturing for him to go get his camera, which he wastes no time doing, pulling it out of his black carrier bag and slinging it over his neck. Felix sits cross-legged in front of you again, watching intently as you flip your skirt up and let your fingers graze over your soaking panties. Your new ring glints in the dim glow of the overhead lamp, glistening as you rub your clit over the thin fabric of your underwear and stare into the lens of his camera.
Felix clicks a set of photos, his breath hitching in the back of his throat at the sight of you tugging on your panties and spreading even further for him. You make a big show of staring innocently into his lens, your eyebrows arched in curiosity as you toy with your waistband and tug it down a little further, your hips swaying a little as you struggle to pull it off entirely. And Felix takes note of your struggle, snapping one more photo of your desperate state and slinging the camera back off.
âLet me help you,â he says with an amused smile, placing the camera on the bag beside him and scooting closer to you. His hands loop themselves in the hem of your panties, keeping his gaze locked on your core as he pulls them down, being met instantly with the sweet aroma of your arousal and your glistening folds.
âFuck,â Felix breathes, swallowing in anticipation at you spread for him.
You let yourself slouch back into the dip of the couch cushion, propping a leg up to give him a better view, and your hands graze over your breasts as you watch him struggle to comprehend the sight.
âGo on,â you order simply, biting your lip as his eyes widen when you knead your breast gently.
And Felix doesnât spare another second, his hands finding purchase on your inner thighs, as he brings his face forward and licks a long stripe up your folds. His tongue is instantly coated in your arousal when he does, moaning at the taste of you as you writhe in pleasure below him and clamp your knees around his pretty face. He holds them open again, letting his tongue graze over your pulsing clit, before licking another stripe and then latching his lips around your bundle of nerves, pressing a chaste kiss before sucking harshly.
The room fills with your high-pitched moans, gasping for air and clutching desperately onto the fabric of the couch as he works you, alternating between sucking your clit between his teeth and grazing his tongue over your entrance. He darts his tongue into your sopping entrance to gather more of your arousal, spitting harshly onto your cunt and grazing it around your folds using his tongue. And the more you writhe desperately below him, the more his movements become ravenous, working you like a starved animal as he eats you out and pries your legs open.
âFelix,â you groan, reaching a hand out to push his face further into you. âFeels so fucking good.â
He smiles against you, responding with little kisses peppered on your inner thighs, before moving back to your clit and licking in harsh back and forth motions. Your cunt clenches around nothing, desperate for him to fill you, but not wanting him to halt the motion of pleasuring you with his tongue. And as his fingers graze along your thigh to pry you open again, you gasp when he brings the same hand to your clit and rubs vigorously.
Your body is shaking now, trembling with anticipation as you approach your orgasm. But Felix doesnât stop to gauge your reactions at all- in fact, if you were to cum right now, heâd keep going at this pace regardless. Heâs too fixated on the taste of your arousal in his mouth, the melodious moans you let out for him and the way you reach for nothing tangible as he works you.
As your head throws back in pure ecstasy, you feel his fingers move lower, and lower, until heâs grazing your entrance with his knuckles in a teasing motion. And before you can ask him to fuck you with them, heâs already inserting two fingers, increasing the pace of his tongue as he begins to thrust in and out of you. Your cunt contracts eagerly around his fingers, desperate for release now as he matches the rhythm of his tongue with his fingers, the room teeming with the sounds of your squelching pussy. As he pushes deeper into you, you feel his ring- the cold, stiff metal of your now matching rings, graze your entrance, sending a wave of pleasure over your trembling body. His fingers work in and out of you, the cold metal pressing itself on your clit as he bottoms out inside of you and moves his fingertips in quick come hither motions to stimulate you. Your abdomen contracts harshly with every thrust now, your clit throbbing as he traces it with his tongue and peppers it in hot, wet kisses.
âFelix, fuck, Iâm- gonna cum for you,â you warn, your voice shaky as he moves even faster, showing no mercy with his movements as he groans against your exposed flush.
âLet go for me,â he commands plainly, his deep voice vibrating against your clit as he holds his tongue there. âAlways give me such a fucking show, baby. Make a mess for me.â He speaks between kisses on your glistening folds, alternating between pouting his lips to make out with your cunt and let his tongue wag over your sensitive core.
As you feel his fingers thrust into you one last time, the cold metal of his ring gliding over your folds in its coat of arousal, your abdomen contracts over him, your cunt clenching in syncopation with your fervent moans as you finally let go and dribble your juices all over his freckled face. He wastes no time cleaning you up, lapping at your core to swallow your release and pepper your dampened flesh with tender kisses.
âStay there,â Felix orders, reaching beside him as your eyes flutter shut in overstimulation. You lie completely listless, your limbs languid and heartbeat pulsing at a now slowing rate throughout your body.
Felix brings his camera up to you again, sitting up on his knees and snapping a photo of your wearied state, his eyes wide with lust as he admires the way your legs hang loosely at your sides. His lens adjusts to capture your parted lips and flushed cheeks, your hands tugging your skirt down again and the smile on your breathless lips when you open your eyes again.
Felix stands up now, approaching you with the camera and letting his slender fingers graze your lips.
âSuck,â he orders, inserting the same two fingers down your throat as his other hand positions the lens in front of you. And you oblige eagerly, your lips wrapping around his digits to suck your own arousal off of him, your tongue swirling around the salty metal of his ring to rid him of your juices.
His photos capture exactly that- your lips wrapped around his knuckles, the kisses you trail down his fingers and the way your tongue licks the perimeter of your matching jewelry clean.
When youâre finished, you release him with a gentle pop, Felix letting his camera hang loosely at his waist again and using his now free hand to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.
âSo beautiful,â he says resolutely, bringing you up for a gentle kiss. âYou were always such a good model for me.â
*
When you work an early shift, you make it a point to kick Felix out of your apartment no later than 9, or sometimes 10. Youâre not staying the night, youâd explained as a non-negotiable condition, wanting to avoid the awkward antics that come with sleeping alongside each other and waking up in his arms. But tonight, you canât seem to let go of him, letting his arms wrap you in their warm embrace as he presses kisses to your forehead and tells you stories of college that you werenât around for.
âIt was the worst group I ever had for a project,â Felix says in a chuckle. âI donât know how I passed that course.â
âYou shouldâve requested a different group,â you say in a sleepy voice, smiling as you play the humorous tale in your head.
âI did!â He exclaims. âI donât think the professor liked me enough to let me switch so late in the semester.â
âWell, you got through it,â you reply, letting your hand intertwine with his as your rings rub tenderly against each other. âI canât say the same.â
Felix chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and letting your hands rest against each other. He thinks for a moment, and then rubs his thumb along your hand lovingly as he begins to speak again.
âI want to take so many photos of you in the spring. Thereâs this new lens I want to try.â
You pause briefly, opening your eyes to look at him, and then you cock your head slightly before responding.
âYou wonât be here for the spring, Felix. Youâll be back at school.â
He swallows nervously, pondering your words, and then he exhales deeply before continuing.
âI donât think college is for me, either.â
The words hit you like a truck the second they escape his lips- you sit up in bed to look at him, releasing his hand from yours and furrowing your brows together.
âWhat?â
âIâve been meaning to tell you, I just wasnât sure how to bring it up. I want to stay here, with you.â
âNo, you donât,â youâre quick to say, shaking your head.
âI do,â Felix admits sheepishly. âEverything makes sense here. Being with you, the town, the people- I think Iâm meant to be here, too.â
âNo, youâre not,â you say, pulling away from him even further as he sits up now, too. âFelix- this isnât your life. You need to go back to school, and pick a major and live your life.â
âI donât want those things,â Felix responds frustratedly. âI want you. I want this town. I donât care if you donât want to date, Iâll stay by your side regardless. I canât just leave you.â
âYou can, and you will.â
Felix narrows his eyes, anger quickly overtaking him as his face flushes a dark shade of red.
âSo youâre allowed to and Iâm just not? Who are you to dictate what I do with my life?â
âThis is the life I made for myself,â you reply, exasperated. âItâs not some soul-searching pit stop like it is for you.â
âMaybe itâs not for me, either.â
Youâre entirely off the bed now, your hands making angry gestures as you try to verbalize your feelings toward him, Felixâs voice growing increasingly irate as you attempt to.
âYou know why I left you in the first place?â You question. âBecause I was dragging you down. You had everything- a family, a future and a girlfriend who didnât quite have things made the way you do. No one even understood why we were together, Felix. Iâm not gonna drag you down a second time just because we had sex a couple times.â
âIs that all this is to you?â Felix inquires angrily. âJust sex? It doesnât seem that way when youâre all over me at Seungminâs parties calling me your âbest friendâ. That doesnât sound like just sex to me-â
âYou are my best friend,â you interrupt frustratedly, tears falling from your eyes now as you try to make him listen.
âYou are my best friend, and I donât want this life for you. The night I left you, my dad was moved to hospice, and my mom decided she wanted nothing to do with it. I knew youâd be wasting the best years of your life taking care of me, staying by my side like the good person you are, but that it would get in the way of college and your life. It wasnât easy for me to do, Felix, breaking up with you and getting as far away from you as possible before I could change my mind. But you have a life outside of me, and I need you to go be that person still.â
Felix says nothing in response for several minutes, his eyes welling with tears, too, as you wipe your eyes with your inner wrists and avert his gaze. You hate when Felix sees you cry- itâs embarrassing, and it feels shameful. It feels the way it did when Felix skipped classes to be with you, neglected studying for his exams to hold you as you cried, rain checked his own family to be with yours and dragged you to every house party, so that he could fuck your sadness away in an environment that wasnât a hospital bathroom or your childhood room.
âHow dare you imply the time I spent with you was wasted,â he scoffs, his lip quivering as he wipes his own eyes. âYou were my life, outside of all of this. And you still are, and youâre so stubborn in doing that thing where you donât let yourself feel.â
You watch as Felix gathers his camera, stuffing it back into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
âYou said youâre somewhere between the fire and the mending. But you donât talk about the fire. You just shut it out like you do with everything else.â
He pivots on his heel, making his way toward the door and walking with loud, purposeful strides. You begin to say something, quickly swallowing your words again as he reaches for the doorknob and turns it slowly. Felix pauses momentarily, hoping youâll ask him to stay, apologize, forgive- anything, any sort of indication that this is what you want, too. But as the door opens, your silence is answer enough for him.
âNo one could have prevented the fire,â Felix says before leaving, echoing the words you told him so long ago. âYou can pick up, and move on, but it still happened. And just because things burned, doesnât mean youâre not allowed to thrive again.â
Without another word from you, heâs disappearing out your front door, his camera bag swaying on his side as he marches out the building and back to his car.
And you feel yourself begin to cry, your heart contracting painfully in your chest, a pit forming in your stomach as you witness him walk out of your life again. The flames burn inside of you all over again, turning organ to ash as you wipe your never-ending tears and slam the door behind him. Itâs akin to when your mother left, when your dad passed and when you left Felix the first time. Itâs overwhelming, it consumes you whole, your entire figure trembling as you fail to extinguish the flames. The phenomenon begs the question- had the fire ever really stopped? Were you ever in the process of mending if not wailing like this, your vulnerability on display for the world to see as your walls are finally let down? Is this what it means to feel?
*
There are few people in this world who have seen you cry. Your mom, one of them, when you begged her to stay. Your dad, another, when you held his hand through his last breath. Felix, the third, several times throughout your relationship with him.
And the folks in this town- never. Not once have they witnessed you wail the way Felix has, tears brimming your eyes as you fail to keep your emotions at bay, mucus trickling down to your lips in an inelegant manner as you cry, and cry and cry.
âYou want some coffee?â Chris asks awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he watches you bury your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt.
âNo.â
âYena should be here any minute,â he adds, his voice softening as he watches you lift your head to give him a nod.
âHang in there, kiddo,â Chris finishes, rubbing your back in small circles and giving you a gentle pat.
As you rest your chin in your hands, a pounding headache overtaking your whole being, a knock at the front door catches your attention. Itâs Yena, a hood thrown over her head as she balances a tupperware container in her hands and peers through the window. Chris gives her a knowing look, making his way to the door and unlocking it for her.
âHey,â Yena says softly as she enters, setting down a slice of pie in front of you and taking a seat on the stool beside you. âYou okay?â
You sniffle once, shaking your head sorrowfully as she awaits your explanation. But nothing is verbalized yet, and for a good few minutes, all you can do is cry.
Yena wraps you in her loving embrace, letting your tears stain the shoulder of her hoodie, as Chris shrugs from behind you and delivers reassuring pats to your back. Theyâre just as confused as each other, awaiting a reason or some story, but you canât bring yourself to vocalize your thoughts, especially when youâre a crying mess like this. Chris finally ushers Yena to say something, and she does, albeit reluctantly.
âYou know, just between us, I think heâs a little dorky, anyway. Itâs his loss if he canât see what heâs missing.â
And to their surprise, you chuckle lightly, still wiping tears with the corners of your sweatshirt.
âWhat?â You question, a soft hiccup escaping your lips as you speak. Yena furrows her brows, together shooting a questioning look to Chris, who shrugs in response.
âIs this⊠not about Felix?â She queries hesitantly.
âIt is,â you emphasize, another giggle escaping your lips. âBut itâs not that heâs not interested. We used to date, Yena.â
At this, Yena reaches around to swat Chrisâ shoulder, pursing her lips together as she speaks again. âI knew something was up,â she voices, swatting Chris again. âChristopher over here was convinced he was too into you.â
âYou guys talked about it?â You add, giggling softly into the sleeve of your sweater.
âIt was hard not to,â Yena responded, giving you an empathetic look. âThe way you guys light up a room when youâre together, itâs like winter turns to spring or something. I was so certain he was the one.â
At this, more tears escape the corners of your eyes, falling onto the counter below you as you nod slowly in regards to her words.
âI love him,â you finally say, and the room goes silent when you do.
âI love him, and he deserves better than me. Than this,â you finish, gesturing around you to the town. âHe wants to drop out of college and stay here. Like thatâs a good idea for anyone except me.â
Yena and Chris give each other staggered looks, unsure of what to reply to first. Theyâve never heard you speak of your emotions like this, never seen you cry and never wouldâve guessed that you would let down your guard to this degree around them. Itâs a little frightening, at first, to watch you tear down your own walls so much, like watching a different person than the one theyâve known for all these years. But itâs also reassuring to see that you are capable of letting yourself open up for the right people. It takes a weight off their shoulders to bear witness to the confirmation that theyâre the people you can go to when you need help, the same way they donât hesitate to lean on you. And it especially gives solace to know that you feel so deeply at all, a trait Yena and Chris have always pushed you to familiarize yourself with.
âWell whatâs stopping you?â Yena asks, threading her fingers in your hair and combing it back like your mother used to.
âExactly that,â you respond. âI donât want to confine him to this life of mine.â
âLet me ask you something,â Yena states, taking your hands in hers and bringing your gaze up to meet hers. âAre you happy?â
And the question throws you off guard, requiring a moment to think before you can say anything in response. Itâs a fair question, too- one you shouldâve asked yourself when you agreed to move here years ago. But itâs not a difficult one to crack, either, when you take in your surroundings. The diner across the street is packed with patrons, happily sipping away at milkshakes and glass bottles of soda. This old record shop, with its dingy back room and rows of genres you make an effort to learn about whenever you get a chance. The starlings that flock when the train travels through, the holiday parties you find a home in and your favorite spot on the hill, overlooking all of Ember. Theyâre all working parts of one larger phenomenon- that of happiness.
âYeah,â you reply, nodding to affirm your answer. âI love it here. And I love you guys, and Iâm still healing most days, but I wouldnât want to be doing it anywhere else.â
A smile grows on Yenaâs face as she glances back between you and Chris, and he shoots her a little nod.
âThen do something about it,â she finally says, giving your hands a little squeeze. âThe first step is letting yourself feel. The rest is up to you to run with.â
And when you meet her gaze, and Chrisâ gaze, their loving expressions looking down at you like youâre one of their own, you canât help but pull them into a hug, letting yourself cry a little harder at the prospect of your found family, these tears ones of happiness.
âI love you guys,â you voice confidently. âAnd Iâm sorry if Iâve never said it out loud.â
Chrisâ hand pats your back, Yenaâs combing through your hair tenderly, as they hug you with equal enthusiasm and allow you to cry as long as you need.
âWe love you, kid,â Chris answers.
And when you pull away again, the three of you laugh, your tears staining your reddened faces as you bask in this unconditional appreciation for one another.
âEat your pie,â Yena says, shoving a fork toward you. âAnd Chris, play some music, will you?â
Chris salutes her, pulling a random record off the shelf and scanning its contents.
âPolish folk?â He questions, and you glance at the familiar cover of the record, the same couple dipping into a bow as they dance in their colorful fabrics.
âThis oneâs really good,â you chime in, taking a bite of cherry pie as you nod toward the record player. âWe should dance to this one.â
And as Chris starts the upbeat music, pulling Yena in for a comedic waltz, you canât help but laugh through your tears, at the home this townâs given you in all your mending.
*
Felix hasnât been at the record shop since your fight. He hasnât been at your apartment, nor the diner, or even Seungminâs place (and yes, you did ask). Thereâs only one place you know Felix would flock to after a night like the one you shared, and if youâre lucky, you should still be able to catch him on his supposed last night here.
The grassy hill is a little slippery at this hour, caked mud enwreathing your sneakers as you trudge your way up the hill and into the familiar dip of the land. And as the horizon becomes visible to you, spanning the length of the town and showcasing all the bright lights the nighttime flaunts, so does Felix, sitting with his back to you in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He looks more casual tonight, less dressed with the intention to look a specific way, and you canât help but smile at the sight of his slim frame taking in the view you led him to. He leans back on his hands, eyes scanning the sight of the town, before picking up his camera and snapping a series of photos.
When you occupy the spot next to him, he glances over at you briefly, before turning his attention back to the camera and waiting for you to speak.
âItâs prettier at night, isnât it?,â you finally say, breaking the silence, and Felix fixes his gaze on the blurry lights of the record shop.
âYeah,â he responds curtly, swallowing nervously as he ponders what to say.
And you know if you let him facilitate this conversation, itâd be over much sooner rather than later, but you also know that itâs up to you to make amends now.
âYour photography is still so beautiful,â you state, gesturing to the camera in his hands. âItâs always been so artistic.â
Felix remains quiet, toying with the strap on his camera as you speak.
âYouâre artistic,â you continue. âAnd thatâs why I want you to finish college. Donât throw all this away for me.â
He turns his face to meet your gaze, his eyes trembling a little as you give him an empathetic look and shrug.
âI donât want to go where you wonât follow,â Felix says, his voice coming out a little shaky.
âBut Iâll always be here,â you retort, tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes again. âDonât put your life on hold for something that already lives in your past. You are an incredible person, Felix, and Iâm not gonna drag you down a second time.â
Felix thinks for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat as he thinks over your words. And he knows that thereâs a possibility this isnât what he wants, either- to stay in this little town with your friends heâs not even sure like him very much. But he does know he wants you, and that staying here would mean sacrificing his old life.
âI want you to know it wasnât your fault,â Felix says after a brief pause of silence. âNobody who walked out deserved you. And your dad loved you- a lot. I think about that moment watching the sunrise with you every day. Heâs there too, part of that memory tucked away in my mind. Iâm sorry it happened so suddenly and disrupted things. I just want you to be happy.â
âI am happy, Felix,â you tell him, chuckling lightly as you respond. âI have a whole family here. I donât spend my holidays alone, I meet new people working at the shop everyday. Thereâs so many people I havenât introduced you to. There are coffee shops, and parades on weekends, and Iâm happy. Iâm still healing, but Iâve also realized that being healed doesnât equate my happiness. I can be one without the other, and still get by just fine.â
Felixâs gaze is fixed on yours for a moment, not saying anything as he lets your words circle his mind. And thereâs so much he wants to say in response, so many questions about what the future means for you both, but he also knows very well that the rest is up to him to figure out, just the way you did when you moved out here. Maybe youâre still healing- and maybe Felix is still figuring out the rest for himself, too. And though the past may be clouded by a story much more complex than either of you can even begin to comprehend, the happiness you seek is attainable, whether or not youâre together to see it through to the end. That although sometimes things may burn and decay like this town once did, there are people who will make the journey to help in the process of rebuilding, and you can thrive again. You can always thrive again.
âYouâre right,â Felix says, as he looks over the horizon again. âIt is prettier at night.â
The dim glow of the streetlights contrasts the flashy signs of the diner and the record shop, painting the blackened town with vivid color and bringing life to the small town of Ember.
And with a half smile, Felix pulls you in for a tender kiss, the two of you letting your apologies flow through each other in the gentle embrace of your lips and your hands intertwining atop the grassy hill.
Felix pulls you close, letting your head rest comfortably against his chest, as he caresses your hand softly in the grasp of his. And his index finger rubs lovingly against your ring finger, your matching rings grazing against each other as if to say Iâve always loved you.
*
Small town at the edge of the world. No particular time of day. A blossoming summer.
If you told the average person to shut their eyes and think of their favorite city, theyâd probably conjure up a lengthy description about the booming skyscrapers, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the fancy restaurants and the well-kept people. Point it out on a map, youâd tell them, and their finger would land in the heart of the amorphous blob of whatever state theyâve chosen.
Now move your finger to the right- keep going, and going, and donât stop until youâre almost off the map entirely. There will be no major indicators, no colorful dots on this area of the map. You might miss it, in fact, if you shoot too far.
Thatâs the small town of Ember. A town Felix holds very close to his heart. And one you call home.
The cicadas buzz with high-pitched melodies of summer as you slip your sneakers on, the piercing blue sky around you almost too bright to look directly in its face. The clouds seem to shift with the summer breeze, drifting along the canvas sky like a painting in motion as you take in the sight around you
âLetâs go!â Yena calls, honking her horn twice to signify her arrival.
âIâm coming!â You call back, making your way down the stairs of her porch, balancing trays of food in hand as you account for everything youâve agreed to bring. Drinks, plates, pie, napkins- your signature arrangement for the townâs summer festival you attend alongside Chris and Yena every year.
âSlow down, kiddo,â Chris says with a chuckle, as you rush to place everything in the backseat. âOh, and thereâs a letter for you on the porch table,â he adds, shooting you a small wink.
âIâll be right back!â you call to Yena, jogging back up the stairs to collect the little beige envelope that rests atop the wooden surface.
Itâs addressed to you, the handwriting in neat swirly black cursive letters, the envelope feeling sturdy between your fingers. You tear it open with no real aim, a giant gash working down the envelope as you rush you pull out the contents and examine them.
Itâs a stack of photos, you quickly realize, sorting through them to make out the glossy digital prints.
Thereâs a photo of you in the back of the record shop, your hands brought up to your face and your legs hanging lazily off the table. Another showcases you in the familiar beige interior of the passengerâs seat, laughing cheerfully and staring out the window. There are photos of the townâs horizon, photos of the record player at your work, Yenaâs famous pie, Seungminâs holiday party and even the matching rings, intertwined hands that rest on the car console. As you shuffle to the last photo, you recognize it to be much more recent than the others, even the quality looking clearer, perhaps a new camera or a different roll of film.
Itâs a still photo of Felix, from the waist up, holding a peace sign up to the lens with a small smile. Heâs dressed brightly in a white vest and layered jewelry, the background showcasing a blue harbor with rows of boats, the location indistinguishable to you. Heâs blonde again, his now shorter golden tresses framing the myriad of freckles that scatter his face once more. And he looks happy, much like himself again.
You wonder briefly who took the photo of him, the angle being of very close proximity. And you canât make out which hand usually houses the ring you both wear, the only hand visible to you covering his ring finger, regardless. You scan the photo for a moment, running your fingertips over his figure, before turning it over and reading the neatly scribbled text on the back:
Sydney, last fall. I think Iâm the only photography major who doesnât drink my coffee without sugar. And you were right, the freckles do suit me better.
All my love,
Felix.
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Prince!Felix x Fem!Reader || Preview
Working on a story right now, so I wanted to post a little snippet hehe. Let me know if you want to be tagged once I upload the full thing!
wc: 263
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Felix looked at you as he was snapped out of his thoughts. He let out a breathy laugh, his full attention focused back on you. He tugged your arm slightly along with his, âCome on.â He led you towards the middle of the ballroom, and you felt yourself begin to feel a bit timid. Was he really about to ask you to dance with him? Your thoughts were confirmed when he turned to look down at you, a warm smile on his face. âYou remember how to dance?â
"I know you taught me before, but I haven't had a reason to ballroom dance, like, ever. soâŠâ
"I guess Iâll just have to teach you again.â Despite your apprehension, his words gave you a sense of comfort as he unlinked your arms, instead taking your hand as he turned to face you. He brought your free hand up and placed it on his shoulder, then gently moved his hand to your waist. His touch sent heat rushing to your face; it had felt a lot more intimate than normal. Maybe it was just because it was Felix? God, you really needed to get a hold of yourself.Â
Felix couldn't help but have this little smile on his face as he saw your flushed expression. He saw your eyes wandering to anywhere but him, feeling too embarrassed to meet his gaze. "My eyes are up here, angel."
Your eyes snapped up at him, mumbling a tiny apology under your breath which he only laughed at. "Just follow my lead, alright?"Â
"Okay." You nodded, trusting him.
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Blueberries // Lee Felix x Reader
genre: distopian au
sypnosis: A meteor struck down on your country, completely destroying all sense of what you had previously known to be normal. Because of the effects, you are now forced to collect a substance called Ortaux to continue surviving. You're struggling to stay alive, and you nearly die, but someone saves you right before you do.
word count: 4.4k
contains: gn reader, angst, a bit of fluff, no happy ending (sorry), strangers to lovers(?), felix loves baking, reader is scared of lightning, lmk if I missed anything!
note: This is my first time uploading a story, and I'm kinda excited haha. This isn't proofread, and is really just an extreme edit to a school assignment I turned in last year lol. It's 2am and my mind is blurry, so let me know if there are any mistakes!
Your body felt numb, all You could feel was the pounding in your head, your mind was in a frenzy, and your vision had become nothing but muddy blobs of color. On the bench of what used to be a busy bus stop, you sat alone, experiencing what you thought would be your last moments alive. It had been 3 weeks since you had taken any Ortaux, and while desperately trying to find anything, anyone, to get some from, you could feel your body becoming more and more unstable every morning when you awoke. You could barely keep your eyes open, and thinking about trying to hunt any animals, or crawl your way to a store, made you feel even more hopeless. âMaybe this isnât all that badâ, You thought. You had lost your family when the meteor had hit, and since then youâve just barely managed to survive this long by scavenging for random items and exchanging them for some Ortaux. Everyone in your country has been experiencing this, dealing with it in their own ways. With no help from anyone else, may you addâ they were scared that whatever modification had been made to our bodies by the meteor would spread to them if they ever let you out. It's been like this for the past 5 months. It felt like an eternity, and itâs exhausting. You could feel your body completely giving up, and you swear your heart stopped for a second before you felt something poke into your neck. Suddenly, the pain in your head was fading away, the blurs that made up your vision were readjusting themselves back into defined shapes, and your mind was no longer plagued with panic, but confusion. âHuh? What just happened? You couldâve swornââ
âYou okay?â A deep voice came from behind you. You turned your head to catch a glimpse of the body accompanying it, and You were met with the sight of a boy-- a man, actually. He looked around your age, maybe a bit older, his fair skin had been coated with smudges of dirt, his ashy blonde hair not in any better condition- it reached down to about his shoulders, and from what you could make out right now, it looked like a grown out mullet. He was wearing some very worn out clothes, his jeans were ripped all over, clearly not because of a fashion preference, and his thick black sweater fit loosely around his figure.Â
âHello?â It took a second call from him for you to snap out of your little trance. You finally met his brown eyes, looking up at him with curiosity.
âSorry, you just.. Scared me a bit.â You didnât know how to respond to him. You were just dying about 30 seconds ago, your mind didnât seem like it could really process anything at the moment. âŠWhy weren't you dead? You looked around, when your eyes finally landed on a syringe in his gloved hand, drops of shining blue liquid still dripping from the tip. Then it hit you.Â
âDid you just inject that into me?â When he nodded in response You started to panic a bit, but was mostly in shock. What had you done for this miracle to come to you? âOh my god, thank you so much! What can You do to make it up to you?â You said in disbelief.Â
He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling into little crescent shapes. âIt's nothing, I have a lot at home, and I always bring some with me. Besides, youâre the one who always leaves the blueberries here, right? Iâm the one who keeps coming back for them, theyâre great for making muffins.â He explained, in a light tone âI came by to pick them up, but I found you here instead.âÂ
Your eyes grew even wider than before, if that was even possible. âOh yeah⊠You were supposed to go out for berries today.â Truth be told, the first time you had left them here was because you had accidentally picked some while you were out on your weekly berry- collecting trip. It was a bit darker than normal, so it was harder to tell them apart from the others you would normally get. You're allergic to blueberries, and cursed yourself in the morning when you saw that you had accidentally picked so many. You didnât want them to go to waste, and you highly doubt anyone would trade anything for some measly blueberries, so you left them on a bench at a bus stop the next morning on the way to go look for some Ortaux plants, âmaybe someone will want themâ, You thought. When you passed by the bench again on the way back home, you stopped for a second when you saw that they werenât there anymore. As a little experiment, you picked some more again the next time you were out, left them on the bench again, and waited until the evening to check if someone had taken them again. A slight smile grew on your face when you saw that they were, once again, gone, leaving the bench empty. Since then, it was routine for you to spend a little extra time each week picking blueberries for this mystery person who seemed to enjoy them. Now, the said mystery person was kneeling in front of you, and just saved you from dying.Â
âAnyway, from the looks of it, You assume youâre out of Ortaux?â You could only nod your head hesitantly in response, âWell if you want, you could come to my place so I could lend you some.â
You were reluctant at first, who wouldnât be? A guy you just met was not only inviting me over to his place, but was also offering me some Ortaux? Just him saving you was a miracle on its own, his offer seemed too good to be true. For godâs sake you donât evenâÂ
âoh my god.âÂ
Sheepishly, You muttered, âYou donât even know your name.â
All he did was let out a breathy laugh before responding, âItâs Felix. I donât think I know yours either, do I?âÂ
âHah.. my badâŠâ You replied to him shyly, telling him your name. He smiled at you, holding out his hand for you to shake, which You accepted.
 âNice to meet you.âÂ
You nodded in response to him, and after thinking about his offer again, you concluded that the worst thing that could happen was that you die, and that didnât seem like that much of an issue to me just a few moments ago, so you decided to go with him.Â
The walk there was, admittedly, a little awkward. It consisted of mostly silence, but there was a bit of small talk thrown in there too. With your mind no longer in shambles, You were able to get a better look at him. And he was way prettier now that you could see him clearly. He had a sharp side profile, and from the side you could see, he had multiple piercings on his ear. A silver chain hung from his earlobe, his other piercings decorated by matching silver studs. Even in the dark, you noticed that he had faint freckles adorning his cheeks.Â
âCute.â
The walk didnât take long, it only took about 5 minutes to reach a small one-story house. When the two of you entered, a faint smell of Vanilla entered your nose. Although the cream colored walls and furniture were covered in a bit of rust and dirt, he sure did a decent job of keeping the place organized. There was warm light emitting from the fairy lights that had been hung up, the shelves in the kitchen were filled with jars with labels on them; mostly ingredients, you noticed. The wooden bookshelves in the small living room were filled with literature, You wondered if heâs actually read any of those. You were shocked at the quality of the place. There werenât a lot of places that had working electricity, so he mustâve gotten really lucky finding a house like this. It seemed cozy-- comfortable. It was somewhere someone could actually consider to be a home in this area.Â
âHere, let me get the Ortaux, itâs in my room, Iâll be back.â He disappeared from your sight, and into the hallway.
You examined the area a bit more, looking through a window and seeing what seemed to be someoneâs former backyard- the white picket fencing was still somewhat intact, along with the remains of some sort of garden. Thatâs when you noticed it had gotten a lot darker outside in the short time that you had spent here. Summer had just passed, so you were still adjusting to the shorter days, and sun setting earlier. Your eyebrows scrunched together, now a bit nervous about having to walk home while anything outside was barely visible.Â
âThis should last you about another 2 months or so,â he informed, returning from his room.
You turned around to face him,âThank you so much, this means a lot, really.â You said with a smile.Â
He walked you to the door, and as he was about to open it for you, you could feel your stomach start to churn. Walking in the dark was never ideal. Just looking out into the dark yard in front of his house gave you an unsettling feeling. You always made sure to get home quickly before the sun left the sky, but that clearly wasnât how it worked out today.
Apparently he had sensed your uneasiness, and turned to look at you, âYou know, if you donât want to walk in the dark you could stay here for the night. Only if youâre comfortable, of course.â
You turned back to look at him, waving your arms in protest, âNo way. Youâve already done a lot for me today, I donât want to burden you too much.â
âIt's fine, really. I wouldnât be offering if it wasnât,â he reassured. âThe couch pulls out to be a bed, Iâll just go and get some spare blankets from the closet for you.â And before you could say any more, he was already walking into the hallway again. You sighed in defeat, making your way to the couch, moving the table in front of it before stretching it out into a bed. Not too long after, he came back with a blanket and a few pillows; even a cute little stuffed bunny.
Grabbing the items from him, You asked with a playful grin, âWhatâs its name?â
He chuckled lightly, a boyish smile on his face, âBubbles.âÂ
You thought it was a little silly, but kind of endearing in a way. You set Bubbles down against a pillow before thanking him once again.Â
âTake it as a thank you for all the blueberries these past few months,â He laughed, âGet some rest. Goodnight.â
âGoodnight Felix.â You greeted him back, pulling the blanket over yourself as he left the room. It didnât take long for you to drift to sleep.Â
You woke up the next morning to the smell of something sweet, and the sound of someone in the kitchen. You sat up slowly, looking towards the source of the noise, just to see Felix at the stove cooking something- breakfast, maybe?
My thoughts were interrupted by his voice, âGood morning! I hope you like pancakes. If not, I guess youâll just have to miss out on breakfast today.â He joked, turning back to look at me, the sun from outside illuminated his face as he flashed a small smile. He even had a cute flower apron over his pajamas.Â
âGood thing I love pancakes then.â You said, returning the smile. You sat there for a while in disbelief while he had his back turned to you. You had been struggling to find food and to just, survive, these past few months, and here he was; cooking breakfast like itâs some normal Saturday morning, as if a meteor didnât crash and change everything around 5 months ago. You got up and sat at the dining room table, and you started chatting a bit more. Just casual conversation, which eventually led to him asking you why you always left the blueberries instead of eating them. You quickly explained that you were allergic, and he gave a tiny pout at the information.Â
âGuess I canât make you any of my blueberry muffins then, huh?â He complained, scraping the warm pancake from the pan and onto your plate.
This guy really liked making sweets, didnât he? âGuess not. A real shame.â You breathed out, frowning playfully while thanking him for the pancakes.Â
Breakfast was mostly quiet, but unlike last night, there wasnât a screaming sense of awkwardness, it was calmer now. The pancakes, by the way, were delicious; thatâs how they tasted to you, at least. You canât remember the last time you had eaten, let alone eaten something that was actually prepared and wasnât some scrap you found in an old grocery store. Felix had chuckled lightly at you when he saw how quick you had finished the sweet meal he had cooked for you.
âI was going to ask how the pancakes were, but I feel like I donât need to.â He teased, taking a bite off his fork.Â
âYeah, they were awful, actually.â You told him, matching his tone. He smiled at your response and continued to finish what was left on his plate.
  After you guys were done, the two of you washed the dishes together and put away all the ingredients he had used back into their places on the kitchen shelves. While you went to the living room to put the couch back to how it was, you couldnât help but feel relaxed at how normal it all felt-- how domestic the whole situation was. You wished that everyday could be as calm as it was right now.Â
Gathering all the Ortaux he had so graciously gifted you the night before, he gave you a bag to carry all of it in, and guided you to the door.Â
âThank you for everything again, if you ever need anything at all, I donât stay too far from the bus stop. It's a small blue shed that's about a 2 minute walk away, donât hesitate to drop by if you need anything,â You expressed your gratitude, glancing at him, âOr if you just want to come visit, thatâs fine too.âÂ
âGood to know, Youâll keep that in mind.â He spoke with a toothy smile. You grinned at his bright expression, deciding then that you wanted to make him smile like that again someday.
With that, You stepped out the door, offering him one last wave before strolling your way over to your place with a fond smile on your lips.Â
The next few months wereâŠa bit different. You had gotten back into your normal routine, but this time instead of constantly being by yourself, you had Felix accompanying you. In the first few weeks after he had met you, he would come to visit a few times a week, and when he wasnât visiting you, the two of you would sometimes run into each other at the bus stop. After a while, you had started to wonder if these were just coincidences anymore, it happened pretty often. On those days you would just take a break from everything to talk for a few minutes.. Or a few hours.Â
Because of how put together Felix has been compared to you, you didnât have to go out and scavenge nearly as much as you used to, giving yourself a lot more free time. Guess where all that free time went. You almost spent no time in your tiny shed that you had previously found solace in, but now found yourself spending your days-- and nights-- at Felixâs cozy house. Sleepovers were a regular thing, spending nights together on his bed talking about everything and nothing, which would normally end in the two of you falling asleep next to each other. You wonât ever forget the first time you woke up in his bed.Â
Slowly opening your eyes, you felt a weight around you. You blinked the sleep away from your eyes, and when you finally came to your senses, you realized that Felixâs arms were wrapped around you, and his face was right in front of yours. Your breath got caught in your throat, but calmed down a bit when you fully processed that he was still asleep. You observed his features with a soft look; your eyes traveling all across his face. You scanned his long lashes, his soft lips that were slightly parted, releasing steady breaths, and the freckles scattered across his cheeks. Your eyes darted from one freckle to another, connecting them like stars. The sunlight leaking through the window behind him casted a warm glow on him, making his blonde hair glow. You smiled, thinking that you could get used to this view every morning.Â
It wasnât until after you were finally done staring at him that you noticed the slight twitch of his lips. You sighed, slightly embarrassed.Â
âPlease donât tell me youâre awake.â He chuckled at you and finally opened his eyes, his lips curing up into a smile.
âYou were staring at me, werenât you?â He smiled, his voice slightly deeper than it normally was, since he had just woken up.Â
You buried your face down under his chin, into his chest, âI wasnât.â You denied.Â
He brought a hand to the back of your head to run his fingers through your hair, laughing at your response.Â
âItâs okay, I think itâs cute.â
You learned a lot about him during the time that you had spent with him, and now your mind had a list of random things that you had remembered about him.Â
Apparently the house he was currently living in was actually his, and he lived there with his parents and two sisters before everything happened. Like you, he had lost them, and now you were the only other person who he had any interaction with. He had gotten his cooking skills from his older sister and mother, and he even taught you how to bake some of those sweet treats he loves so much; turns out he has a whole book filled with his motherâs handwritten recipes.Â
He actually had, in fact, read a lot of the books that sat on display in his living room, and he even lended you some of his favorites for you to read. You didnât even like reading that much, but you still had ended up finishing a couple of them for whatever reason.
 He had a bunch more stuffed animals in his room, scattered across his shelves and bed. He had names for all of them, and could tell you exactly where he had gotten each one, whether it had been a gift from someone, won at an arcade, purchased at a store, all of it. He had dyed his hair blonde when he was younger, and hasnât gone back since, which you laughed at. He did complain, however, since considering your current situation, he hasnât been able to dye it anymore; his roots growing out, revealing a decent amount of his brown hair.Â
âIt looks awful.â He whined, his fingers reaching up to run along his scalp.Â
âNonsense. It looks a little silly, but I donât think itâs awful.â You teased him, laughing.Â
âYouâre so mean to me!â
Felix had basically become part of your daily routine at this point.Â
The weather had been really bad these past few weeks, which made a few things significantly more difficultâ actually everything had been more difficult. Hunting and collecting plants had been your guys' main source of Ortaux for the past 3 months or so, but the constant rain and heavy winds gave you quite a bit of the struggle. You were running low, and you hadnât run into Felix for about 2 weeks, which had been really concerning you. Whenever you went to his house to check in on him, there was never an answer to your knocking. You told yourself that perhaps he was sleeping, or out collecting plants, anything. However, you knew something was wrong when the batch of blueberries you left for him the last time you visited was still outside his door the next time you found yourself back outside his house three days later.
That night, the rain was heavy and the thunder outside did nothing to calm your senses. Normally when the weather was this bad, you were at Felixâs house sleeping over, cuddled in his arms while he comforted you through the storm. It was dark and cold, and you were terrified out of your mind right now, your mind only taken up by the ruckus outside and the feeling gnawing at you regarding Felix. You tried to calm yourself down by breathing, and told yourself that you would go back to his place in the morning when the storm had hopefully calmed down by then; but that got changed when suddenly a bolt of lightning struck dangerously close to your tiny shed. You jumped up from your lying position on the cheap futon, and smelt something burning not too long after. Your eyes darted around, trying to find the source, only to see the left side of the ceiling burning. Feeling your heart begin to race, you quickly grabbed everything you could carry as fast as you could, and you started running towards Felixâs place. Rain was clouding your vision, or maybe they were tears, you didnât know, you didnât care. Your breath kept getting caught in your throat, your legs feeling like they could give out at any moment, and it was starting to get hard to breathe- You donât think youâve ever run this quick before in your life.Â
As you finally reached his porch, you started to bang on the door, no answer. You were cold, terrified, and him not answering his door did absolutely nothing to calm you down. With each knock he didnât answer, You could feel your heart dropping deeper and deeper. âIs he asleep? No way, everything is way too loud for him to be asleep right now. Why isnât he answering me? Is he okay?â Your harsh breaths scratching your throat, and your hands trembling, you gave up on knocking, grabbed a spare bobby pin, and tried your best to pick the lock. The rain made it hard to control it in your shaking hands, but eventually-Â
Click
Your hands fumbled as you roughly reached to turn the doorknob and opened the door to his house, your presence being met with nothing. Absolutely nothing. Slamming the door behind you, you looked around in a panic, running around the house trying to find anything of him. The dishes in the sink were dirty, a mess had been scattered around his living room, clearly having not been cleaned in a while. You checked every single room, closet, bathroom, the backyard, but you were left empty handed.Â
Your sore feet brought you back to his room, and you practically collapsed on his bed, your legs giving out from exhaustion. You were so tired. The area used to bring you so much warmth and comfort, but right now it brought you nothing of the sort. You felt...hollow, You didnât know what to do. Tears pricked in your eyes, and it only took about a second for you to completely break down into a sob. Your breathing uneven and tears clouding your vision as your shivering form laid on his cold bed. You didnât know what exactly it was that you were crying about. Was it because Felix wasnât here, leaving you with absolutely nothing? Not even a single note, a single sign to where he was, if he was okay or not. That you were worried about him? As far as you knew, he could be dead right now. You pushed that thought out of your mind before it ate you up any more.Â
After what felt like hours of just crying, you made yourself get up and find some dry clothes. You definitely needed rest, and if you laid here any longer you were sure you were about to pass out from exhaustion on his bed, still in your drenched clothing. You went through his closet, your tired eyes scanning through his clothes. Your hands found a random hoodie and some sweatpants, and changed into them with slow movements. They still smelled like him.
 You grabbed Bubbles close to you as you laid in his bed, trying your best to fall asleep. My mind was clouded by your thoughts, and you finally realized something you had noticed while searching for him. All the Ortaux in the house was nowhere to be found when you checked earlier. âDid he take everything and leave to live somewhere else? Everything else of his was still here⊠did he..?â You didnât even notice the tears starting to fall from your eyes again until You felt something wet drip on the hand that was holding Bubbles. You shook your head, and tried to get comfortable in the bed you had only ever shared with Felix. You fell asleep after endless tossing and turning, tears staining your face, and thunder crashing outside.Â
Waking up the next morning, you had initially refused to believe that the previous night was real. You turned over to face the other side of the bed, where Felix shouldâve been, but your heart ached when you found it to be empty. You donât even remember anything you did that day, and the next few weeks felt like a complete blur to you.Â
Felix never came back, you donât know what happened to him, and you probably never will. You started living in his house after that night. Really, itâs not like you had anywhere else to go anyway, your shed was long gone by now. Besides, Felixâs house was way more spacious, it was filled with ingredients, food, entertainment, a place to cook foodâ it had everything you needed. Except for a certain freckled boy with blonde hair. You tried convincing yourself that all the practical things were the only reason you stayed there, but deep down you know thereâs a part of you that finds comfort in living here, and that same part of you is the same one thatâs aimlessly hoping that heâll return.
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