#Lee Felix AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stayxlix · 6 months

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off the deep end. (07)

~(part seven) 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), nightmares, mentions of murder/death, mentions of parent death, mentions of hunger, oppressive government, fighting, weaponry (knife use, gun 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.♡♡

series masterlist

"fear and love are like interwoven threads—immutable 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 he’d grown accustomed to like an old, unwelcome acquaintance. The kind that crept beneath his skin when he could no longer ignore hunger’s 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.

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 neck—chains 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 seven—no, 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.

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,” your voice—your real voice—not the distorted echo from his nightmare, had called out. Clear and reassuring, summoning him from the depths of his own subconscious.

“Felix, wake up. You’re dreaming.”

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,” you whispered, fingers gently gripping his shoulder, "you're safe."

You’re 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.

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 you’d sighed, heavy with affection and a touch of sadness, before shifting closer.

Your arms enveloped his shoulders and, to his own surprise, Felix didn't resist your touch—though maybe he should have, given what his subconscious had just inflicted upon you. But he couldn’t 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 grounding—you were grounding. A lifeline anchoring Felix to the reality he so desperately needed to return to.

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 and—

The air in his lungs became thin, his grip tightened, fingers digging into your back. “I couldn’t 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.

“It’s okay,” you hushed, your lips grazing his ear in a soft caress. “It’s 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 cave’s entrance—a 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.

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 Felix’s 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 moment—the profound night—you 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 sun’s 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 he’d found in your touch that morning, a growing shadow of guilt threatened to consume his mind.

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 returned—a cruel reminder of the violence he had once been capable of.

The violence that he was still capable of.

Felix had always recognized his nightmares as a manifestation of his deepest guilt. They had always been sinister—disturbing, 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 couldn’t help but wonder if it had also been a consequence of what he’d said to you that night in the tavern—that you would already be dead if he'd had things his way. Such a careless thing to say considering that, even if he hadn’t 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 Changbin—bickering 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 morning’s ordeal. But now wasn’t the place or the time to talk about the nightmare. It was still too heavy, too raw, and to be honest Felix wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to find the words to articulate it all.

He didn’t 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 raid—a 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 hadn’t 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 couldn’t 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 you’d 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 weight—things that didn't escape his notice because he understood them all too well.

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 monster—a 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 couldn’t 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 you’d saved his life for the first time.

Of course, he hadn’t known who you were then, he’d 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 guards—undoubtedly 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. Seungmin—who’d 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 speech—how you pronounced words like Minho once had in those first few months after he'd joined the group—Felix 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 in—the 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 happened—maybe he would try to figure it out some day if he lived long enough—but 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. “See? It's all about the grip. If you don't hold it just right, your aim will be completely off."

Seungmin—who you'd quickly come to realize was never one to back down from a challenge—shook his head, streaks of chestnut in his hair catching the sunlight. Rising to his feet, he extended an arm.

“I get that you’ve had official lessons, but you’re missing the point. It's all about intuition and feeling the shot,” he continued as you handed him the bow. “You 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.” 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. “I don't know, I think it’s 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 didn’t 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 hair—a 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.

“Nothing 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 didn’t 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 shapes—their 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,” you urged, leaning in, "it isn’t safe.”

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. "Lix—"

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.

You’d intended to follow him but Hyunjin was quicker. He leaped down from the rover before it’d 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 Hyunjin’s back. "It didn't exactly go well."

"Sometimes Felix gets like this—"

"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. “There'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 again—anything 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 usual—a 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 didn’t 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.

Chan’s 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.

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.

If this was easier than you didn’t want to know what it had been like for him before.

“You should rest. We're safe tonight,” 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 below—tiny beacons of firelight.

Felix shifted, dangling his legs over the edge. “Any 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 eyes—it 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.”

Felix pressed the cool metal to his lips and took a long, necessary drink before handing it back. “Thanks,” 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,” he added, making your heart flutter at the nickname. “I just don't want to close my eyes right now."

“Do you want to talk about it?” 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.

“We don't have to..But I can tell its bothering you,” 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?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question.

You thought of everything you'd been through—the stolen moments entangled within the danger and chaos, the intimacy you'd shared up to that point.

“I 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.

"Felix.."

And Felix winced—he 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.

“You should go get some sleep,” 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 shouldn’t 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 words—for 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,” he said, “we should be nearing the border of District 4 soon.”

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. You’d 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 day—there 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 warning—sending 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 until—with a jarring thud—the 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. “Shit are you alright?!” 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.

“What are they doing?” 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 back—"

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. “If they’re going to wait it out, we'll do the same,” 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 dress—large enough for both of you to slip underneath. His grip on your hand tightened briefly before pulling away. “I’ll be right back. I need to get the bike."

Reluctantly, you let go of his hand. "It’s just a little rain, princess,” he said softly before darting back out in the direction of the forest’s 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 eyes—counting 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. “You really don't like storms, do you? You had the same look on your face that night in the tavern.”

“I’m fine,” you protested, the words coming out sharper than you'd intended.

“So fucking stubborn,” 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.

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.

When you crossed your arms for added warmth, your fingers brushed against the handle of your mother’s 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 there—a 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.

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.

“Keep clenching your jaw like that and your teeth are going to shatter,” his deep voice pulled you back from your thoughts. One of his hands found a resting place on your knee. “What’re you thinking about?” Another ominous rumble echoed from somewhere above, and he added, “Aside 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. “You first.”

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.

“Most of the time," he began, "my memories feel like someone else’s," his throat moved, swallowing down the weight of those memories.

"But there are moments where it all comes back."

Moments.

Moments, as in those nightmares.

Your next thought slipped past your lips, spurred by genuine concern. “Lix, are you okay? Not just after yesterday morning but..I know you've been through a lot, and..”

"I'm fine, princess," Felix managed a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "If you want to know the truth, in a strange way I’m thankful for the nightmares.”

Because I feel like I deserve them.

The unspoken words were written all over his face.

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.

"You wouldn't look at me like that, if you knew everything.”

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. “When I asked why you care last night, it's because you shouldn’t," he said.

"What do you mean?”

”I 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."

“Then help me understand,” you urged.

But there was a flicker of something in his expression that suggested he didn’t believe he was worth your understanding.

“You can’t,” 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. “You grew up with servants to meet your needs while the rest of us bled for every scrap of food and warmth. You can’t 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.”

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 existence—the pressure from pushing it all down was suddenly released under the weight of his words.

“Is 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 I’ve never felt pain, Felix? That I haven’t seen things that will haunt me for the rest of my life?”

You shifted, the jacket slipping from your shoulders and dropping to the mud. “And 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.”

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 over—the culmination of years spent hidden away, a lifetime of being taught not to care about anything finally starting to unravel.

Footsteps splashed behind you. “Wait—I’m sorry,” Felix pleaded, his hand finding your shoulder with firm, gentle strength. “I didn’t mean to belittle what you’ve 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 we—I need you. And that terrifies me more than anything because—”

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 live—to experience the complete depths of life that he had been depriving himself of for as long as he could remember.

“When 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 can’t 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..”

His throat bobbed, preparing to continue. But before he could, you lifted a finger and gently pressed it against his lips.

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.

You felt his warmth, the rapid beat of his pulse.

And you weren’t 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. “If you knew what I am capable of—"

“I don’t care what you have done, Felix,” you interrupted, "I. Don’t. 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 won’t 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 you—because 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 words—truly 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, "I’m 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.”

And then, Felix kissed you like he was making up for all of the wasted time before you’d met—for 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 situation—how 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 mind—the 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 laughed—a 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. “That 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. “Or your tits," he brought his hands up to grope at your breasts, making you moan. “I 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?” you purred, “fill 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 you’d never felt before.

“You know why,” 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 step—but 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.

“C-close,” 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,” 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-gonna—" 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 you’d never even heard before, when his hips suddenly stilled.

"Ah, fuck—" 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 fear—the 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 trees—his 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. “Stay 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 surroundings—the 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,” he finally offered, "Or..." his gaze returned to the map.

“Or,” Minho interjected, catching everyone's attention, "we go through it."

The simplicity of his statement held a sense of something bold—a 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. “We go through," he declared.

Jisung cleared his throat, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “It can’t be any worse than what we’ve been through so far, right?”

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.

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 before—how 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 moment—

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 would’ve been long gone by the time they'd realized the fate of the man they'd sent after him at Yellow Wood—the 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 if—

"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.

Felix’s eyes widened in realization as he twisted around. “Chan, watch out!” 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 suit—the 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 roar—thick 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 in—how 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,” 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 place—why 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. “Hopefully”, he said to no one in particular as he kicked one of the tires, “we’ll be able to get it out after the mud dries.”

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 ignite—each failed attempt only deepening their shared frustration as the daylight waned.

You stole one more quick glance at Jeongin’s food before rising to your feet. “We need to find dry wood,” 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, “Yeah..you two go.”

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 rover—now 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 hair—gray 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 shades—a 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. “His foot, its..”

"I know," you replied.

"Infections can spread fast, especially out here.”

“I know.”

Minho sighed in annoyance, as if holding a conversation with you was some sort of burden. “I didn’t want to discuss it with the others,” 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 didn’t want to discuss it with the others because he didn’t want to worry the others. Choosing to confide in you instead.

“What can we do?” you asked softly, although the answer was already clear.

“Not much,” Minho confirmed, “start a fire, boil water to sterilize it with, and..”

"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..

“Look," 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 Minho’s 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 behind—the 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 couldn’t.

For the briefest instant, you allowed yourself to wonder if perhaps Minho shared the same longing for someone who understood.

Screw it.

“If I hadn’t already known you were from District 9,” you started, “that would confirm it.” You brought your eyes from the bracelet to meet his gaze as you resumed your work, snapping another branch.

Minho’s own eyes tinged with something darker than nostalgia as he let out a dry chuckle. “There's no sob story to it, if thats what you’re wondering. No lost loved one, no tragic incident. It's just a piece of metal.” His tone suggested a desire to seal off the conversation, end it there. But your intuition sensed the unspoken pain behind his words.

“If it doesn’t have any meaning,” you pressed, “then why wear it? Isn't it dangerous? Valuable things like that..I’m sure people would kill for them out here.”

Minho’s eyes flitted away, as if trying to decide whether or not to continue. “It did belong to my mother,” he admitted, “but I don’t 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. “I wear it because it reminds me of why I left.”

Minho’s sudden vulnerability left you wondering what had changed between you, brow furrowing. “Yes, my family is from District 9," he continued, “and they live comfortably while so many struggle to survive. This bracelet is a symbol of that privilege, of the divide."

“Sounds a lot like more than just a piece of metal to me,” 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. “I 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. “I hated every moment of my life there—the constant surveillance, the price paid by those who dared to step out of line. And I think I’m 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 trees—an 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.

“We 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.”

A mixture of curiosity and apprehension took hold of his freckled features as you continued. “If 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 they’ll just hand it over to a group of strangers?"

A brief pause followed before he asserted, "They won’t."

"Then we’ll take it,” you answered plainly. Felix’s eyes widened and you emphasized, “Without hurting them.”

His eyes sparkled as the first glimmer of flames emerged, heart-shaped lips curving into a smile. “Well would you look at that, princess," he mused, "you might just be one of us after all.”

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 themselves—someone who had adapted to the darkness in ways you could only begin to imagine.

The two of you—along with Minho, Chan, and Hyunjin—had 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 air—an indicator of the warmth within those walls.

Each step Felix took was guided by muscle memory—a hunter’s 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, perhaps—

“What the hell is he doing?!” a voice hissed from behind you.

You whirled around, instinctively reaching for your knife.

“Shit, Chan.“

“I said not to get too close,” 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. “There’s a man inside. Just one, from what I can tell.”

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.”

“What if he seems hostile or refuses to cooperate?” 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,” he suggested. And the words, like always, came out laden with the weight of responsibility. “People can be unpredictable. If we wait until morning it gives us the advantage of daylight and more time to assess the situation.”

Impatience flickered across Minho's features, his eyebrows drawing together. "We can't afford to wait," he stressed, "Jeongin has a fever and it isn’t 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 until—"

"Alright," Chan conceded, features softening at the mention of the youngest. “If 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.” 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..”

Felix scoffed audibly from beside you, the sound startling a bird into flight from somewhere above. “Knock?" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "we might as well hand over our weapons while we’re 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 strategy—an 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,” Minho looked to Chan, “given the circumstances, if he thinks she’s a woman alone in the middle of the night he might be more inclined to trust her and offer aide.”

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,” 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 didn’t mean he had to like it.

Hyunjin shifted restlessly. "What if we wait until he goes to sleep?" he said, turning to you, “approaching his doorstep in the middle of the night might raise suspicions."

“So what, you want to break in instead?” 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 that—as much as you would rather die than admit it—highlighted 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. “There’s 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.”

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.

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.

“I'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.

“Come on out!” 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 clothing—a 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. "You’ve 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?"

“Actually...Uh, sir,” 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, "It’s for our youngest," likely hoping to evoke some sympathy.

The man arched an eyebrow. “There are more of you?"

Minho nodded, "We are a small group, just trying to survive."

"Survival," the man drew out the word, tasting it. “This 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.”

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 eyes—the kind of empathy you had never witnessed in your father—and it resonated with you.

As Chan started to voice his reservations, the man halted him with a raised hand. “I 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,” 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.”

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 stood—the 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. “A loyal guard dog you've got there,” 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 man—still a mysterious figure with an unnamed identity—was 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,” the man announced from the kitchen. “This 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. "Wait—"

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.

“It 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 could’ve sworn you detected something that looked a lot like pride.

As the night wore on, something incredibly rare began to settle over your group—a 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.

“Sleep,” 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 think—what 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 rhythm—likely 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 lock—at 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,” you growled, “does that chest bear the symbol of—"

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.

“No," 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 shouldn’t—”

"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.

“H-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.

“I 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 mother’s.

“A 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. ”

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 hands—decisions that haunt me still.”

"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.”

Hira.

As best as you could, you veiled the flicker of recognition that sparked within you at her mention.

“Your 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 him—not 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. “Your 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.”

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 pregnant—the 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 simple—return 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.

“I loved her, your mother,” his voice broke. The words hung in the air—dense, and fractured, and he did not look up as he continued.

“I 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.”

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. “You and my mother..Did you ever..Is there any chance that you could be my..” 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,” he quieted his voice to a gravelly whisper, “if he finds you, if the rebellion fails, he will kill them all—“

"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.”

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 Miroh—that 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 doesn’t work?” you choked out through tears as he closed the distance between you, the weight of his gaze holding you in place.

"We don't know for sure yet, okay?”

"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.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I love you, princess. No matter what.”

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.

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.

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

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix au #stray kids au #skz au #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids angst #skz angst #lee felix anst #felix angst #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

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hyuuukais · 11 months

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✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

groups included ☆ skz, txt (yeonjun, huening kai), enhypen (jake), itzy (chaeryeong, ryujin)

notes ☆ this is my first smau! and my first skz fic! i'm both excited and nervous to post this. i really hope at least one person enjoys this! if i ever miss a warning or anything PLEASE don't hesitate to let me know!

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST

Y/N & FRIENDS | FELIX & FRIENDS | OTHER CHARACTERS

CHAPTER ONE ☆ YNSSTRAWBERRYFIELDS

CHAPTER TWO ☆ THE POWER OF HAN JISUNG

CHAPTER THREE ☆ BOUND TO HAPPEN

CHAPTER FOUR ☆ DISTRACTIONS

CHAPTER FIVE ☆ R1S1NGSTARZ

CHAPTER SIX ☆ NEW CONNECTIONS

CHAPTER SEVEN ☆ PROMISE ME?

CHAPTER EIGHT ☆ CHEF DREAMS

CHAPTER NINE ☆ FAN ACCOUNTS

CHAPTER TEN ☆ THE STREAM

CHAPTER ELEVEN ☆ ROOMMATES

CHAPTER TWELVE ☆ DOUBLE BOOKED

CHAPTER THIRTEEN ☆ WHAT SPEECH?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN ☆ NOT YOUR BUSINESS

CHAPTER FIFTEEN ☆ THANK YOU

CHAPTER SIXTEEN ☆ CONFESSIONS

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ☆ LISTEN UP GIRLS

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ☆ STICKY SITUATION

CHAPTER NINETEEN ☆ GOING PUBLIC

CHAPTER TWENTY ☆ RECAP

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE ☆ MOVIE NIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ☆ SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ☆ RAGE ROOM

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ☆ TIME

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE ☆ DATE NIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX ☆ LOVE?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN ☆ TIRED

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT ☆ T-REX

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE ☆ BREAK

CHAPTER THIRTY ☆ WAIT

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE ☆ LIKE A MOVIE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO ☆ TOGETHER

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE ☆ INCOMING ANNOUNCEMENTS

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR ☆ MISSING YOU

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE ☆ COMING CLEAN

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX ☆ FIRST SNOW

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN ☆ REVISITING

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT ☆ MILESTONES

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE ☆ NEW BEGINNINGS

CHAPTER FOURTY ☆ LUCKY

#✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES #skz smau #skz social media au #stray kids smau #skz #stray kids #smau #social media au #lee felix x reader #lee felix x fem reader #lee felix x yn #lee yonbok #lee felix #lee felix au #stray kids x reader #non idol au #streamer au #skz felix #stray kids felix

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arcanesea · 6 months

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chocolate-covered love | lee felix x reader | 496 w. GENRE: established relationship, pure fluff WARNINGS: none !!

"What kind of chocolate should I get?" you speak to the phone. You're in the middle of buying all the ingredients to make brownies with Felix. He told you to wait until he got home, but you insisted to go first and reduce the preparation time.

"We can work with any kind of chocolate, babe. Just don't get the flavored one in case it'll taste weird," Felix answered. You're always so eager when he offers to cook you something and he finds it adorable. It's not like you can't cook, hell, you're a better cook than him, but dessert? That's his specialty and you humbly admit your defeat in that specific area.

You ended up getting a pack of dark chocolate (Felix said it works well to complement the coffee, making it richer in taste), a pack of sea salt chocolate for the same reason, and also a pack of rainbow choco chips.

You were just cooking the spaghetti when he walked inside your apartment. He called your name before locating you in the kitchen with your duck apron.

"Hi," you greeted him. Trying to focus on mincing the onion and keeping an eye out for the pasta. He walked over to you before placing his hands on your waist and urging a kiss on your cheek.

"How can I help, babe?" he asked before washing his hands in the sink.

"I'm all set, lix, thank you." You said as you put aside the cooked spaghetti.

"Okay," he said before getting to his things.

Every week, in this exact space, you and Felix have your own stuff to handle. It's never silence because the both of you do a little catching up on each other's lives while cooking for dinner. You enjoy cooking for him, and in the meantime, you also enjoy watching him cook for you. After all, you completed each other's full course menu.

"Oh, you get the sea salt chocolate," Felix announced. "This is the best one."

He chopped them up, before taking one and feeding it to you.

To your surprise, it already tastes so good by itself.

"Babe." Felix laughed at your expression. "It tastes good, right?" You agree. It's probably the best chocolate, and it's addicting.

By the time Felix's brownies get into the oven, you are already plating out the spaghetti.

"Perfect timing," Felix said, helping you to tidy up the kitchen a bit before walking to the dining table.

Both of you eat slowly, exchanging words here and there, and suddenly you're left with empty plates.

"I love you," you said suddenly, seconds before the timer went off. Felix stood up with his sweetest smile, cupping your face and planting a kiss. You smile at the kiss, feeling unbelievably cheesy.

"I love you more," Felix said, pecking you once again before walking to take the brownies out.

Love, you think. Though it's not always tooth-achingly sweet, it gives you the nicest treat, making life a little more bearable.

a/n. you don't know how much i love sea-salt chocolate bar like that shit is the best out there also idk what is this i just need the sweet

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dwaekkilinos · 4 months

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wind and water: series masterlist

summary: People always had a way of looking at you as if your skin were composed of paper mâché and your heart was made of glass. They just assumed you were kind of like a weak bird . . . but Felix Lee looked at you like you still had some flight left.

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | surfing au, childhood friends to lovers, slice of life, angst, fluff, smut status: on going notes/warnings: this entire fic is hurt comfort filled with characters that have been through too much too young, so proceed with caution. both characters (reader and felix) are extremely traumatized by the death of their parents, so this fic deals with topics that aren't to be taken lightly. topics discussed would be: parental death, parental neglect, suicidal ideation, and mental illness (anxiety, depression, etc), so please tread lightly. please do not read if these topics are triggering. your mental health is important, so please take care of yourselves. <3

masterlist key: s - smut a - angst f - fluff

chapter one: this house is haunted - 15.7K (a) -> you're in the wind, and felix lee is in the water. both of you are sons and daughters of no one anymore. chapter two: can you see right through me? - 11.7K (s, a) -> you think you're kind of like a weak bird; felix lee believes you still have some flight left.

( more chapter tba . . . )

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enluv · 1 year

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TEASER -> SUBTWEET!

– lee felix (skz) x fem!reader (smau)

warnings: profanity, fanwars/online fighting

genre(s): social media au, crack

– cocos love note: welcome to the first taste of "SUBTWEET" a lee felix love story or better known as my newest smau! the taglist is open and I'll be posting the first chapter soon! hope you'll tune in for it :) hopefully it'll be a quick one ? - feedback is always appreciated!! love you all <3

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latteseungs · 2 years

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macarons : felix

macarons : lee felix

pairing: lee felix x f!reader genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint, culinary student!felix, baker!felix word count: 2.1k rating: sfw warning: light cussing

✦ 。description: you definitely suck at baking, but that was no excuse for you not to do it since you're literally in culinary school. you were just lucky that your (newly realized cute) friend and classmate offered to help you out.

📓 .ﾟ𓂃 masterlist | click here for my taglist feedback is always welcome! reblogs are extremely appreciated. likes do nothing, reblogs are everything.

author's note: this is inspired by this tiktok and kind of the your eyes music video. i was planning to make this short and simple but i was surprised that i already hit the 2k mark,, anyway,, if there are errors in the text timestamp, please ignore! anyway, thanks for being here and i hope you enjoy! <3

You were going for subtle. But it looks like you failed.

“Hey, is anything wrong,” Felix asked, eyes barely leaving the mixing bowl in front of him. “Did I miss something on the recipe?”

Blink.

You blinked and finally felt like you were back on earth, in the kitchen, with a slightly worried Felix as he kept stirring the batter.

“N—no! You’re doing great,” stumbling on your words, you quickly grabbed your notebook and shuffled.

You were trying to follow a recipe you both agreed might be the dish that will be involved in your activity. It was actually a dessert. It was a dessert you dread to make because you’re more of a cook than a baker.

To be fair, it was just in time for you to learn to bake. You know what you put yourself into when you enrolled in culinary school. Of course, you expected that there would be baking. You weren’t just prepared that you would start with one of the most challenging desserts to bake— macarons.

Luckily enough, your stove mate in class has a passion for baking, and he makes the most exquisite desserts, especially brownies. He probably saw the look of dread on your face when the chef announced the activity because he was the one that offered to help you.

“You okay?” He asked you then.

Answering him by shaking your head no, he gave you a reassuring smile, something that you remember so clearly.

He asked you that day if you had an oven back at your apartment because he was more than willing to teach you, and you never agreed to something as fast as you did.

You could say that you were friends with Felix— in a way that you’re comfy enough to invite him to your apartment so he could teach you why it’s crucial to use almond flour more than any other flour on macarons. But not as comfy as hanging out with him casually at any given time.

Now the both of you are in your small kitchen, slightly covered in flour because of your clumsy ass opening the bag the wrong way, and in cute pink aprons because that’s all you had. Felix didn’t bring his own, and there’s no way in hell that you want him to have stains on his white sweatshirt.

“Okay, I think you can pipe this on the tray,” he handed you the bowl, hands brushing with yours as he did, making you take a breath.

You’ve never looked at Felix more than a friend, so you don’t know what’s up with you today, staring at him and spacing off as you do, feeling breathless when he just gave you a bowl, and you can’t even really look into his eyes.

Maybe it’s the atmosphere.

Maybe it’s because it’s your first time with Felix alone. You’ve never really been together with him outside the cooking lab; if you are, some of your common friends are there with you two. Never like this. Never feeling this intimate.

Sure the guy is attractive, gives the best smiles, and is probably the sweetest and most thoughtful person, but you know about boundaries and lines you shouldn’t cross.

“Oh, you’re supposed to do it like this,” Felix demonstrated on his tray after seeing you struggle with piping as the batter inside kept falling to your arm for some reason.

The man trying to teach you laughed when you still didn’t get how it was done. He slowly placed a hand on yours from behind, guiding it properly. He reached his free hand to help you with how you’re holding the top of the bag and placed it firmly.

“You’re supposed to squeeze the top gently and let the batter flow on its own as you circle it,” with the proximity between the two of you, it was inevitable for you to feel his breath on your neck when he instructed you.

“Like this?” You whispered, hesitant after doing the other circle.

“Yeah, like that, you did great,” he still held on to your hands, face inches from yours when he looked at you and grinned proudly.

It was only when he checked on the filling from the other side of the kitchen that you could finally let out the breath you were holding the whole time.

After a few hours of prep, the macarons were ready to take out of the oven. You didn’t even notice how nervous you were about the results until Felix took them out and carefully placed them on the counter. They were soft green, and you couldn’t be happier because they had the signature “feet” well-baked macarons have.

The time came for you to taste them. To think the most nerve-wracking part was the baking and garnishing; it didn’t cross your mind that you actually had to eat and taste. What if they looked good but tasted the complete opposite?

“You go first,” you nudged the macaron to Felix.

He laughed, having no choice but to grab it from your hand.

“Ready?”

“Don’t ask. Just bite!” You covered your eyes, afraid to even see his reaction.

A few beats passed, and Felix remained quiet. You peaked between your fingers blocking your sight, seeing Felix was just there looking at you with a still uneaten macaron in his hand, a misty look on his face with his lips turned up slightly.

“What are you doing? Take a bite!”

“Alright! Alright!”

As Felix obeyed, you heard an instant “mmm” coming from him. Retaking a peak, you see him finishing the dessert. His eyebrows were knitted; he took another bite, tongue swiping a stray crumb on the side of his lips.

“So?” You probed, not wanting to wait any further for his thoughts on the first-ever macaron you made. Well… maybe first ever macaron you semi-made since Felix helped you a lot in the process.

“It’s perfect,” he grinned, licking his fingers.

“Oh, don’t you dare sugarcoat this, Felix. I’m serious! This could make or break my—”

He caught you off guard when he placed a macaron in your mouth. It instantly made you shut up, but you still looked at him in disbelief. Finally, taking a bite, you surprised yourself with how it tasted. It was sweet but not overly done, crunchy but soft inside. It was nearly perfect.

“See? It’s good, right?” He chuckled, proud of what you made with him.

You rolled your eyes in reply, trying to find a napkin to wipe off the filling from your lips. But the baker in front of you beats you to it, his hand on your cheek as he gently wipes off the chocolate flavor.

Silence enveloped the two of you. You could feel the tension in the air when he slowly inched his face to yours. A couple of his stray hair framed his face perfectly, his freckles looking absolutely unreal up close. Starting to flutter your eyes close; you mimicked his actions by inching closer, lips slightly touching his.

Ding.

The timer went off, making you jump up from your seat.

Felix cleared his throat, eyes widening and then blinking. He suddenly stretched his arms over his head, looking at the ceiling, the cupboards, and finally, towards the oven.

“The second batch of, uh, cookie— no, macarons are done.” You stumbled on your words. Wiping your hands on your apron, you took deep breaths as you walked towards the oven.

“I think I need to get going,” Felix announced. He carefully folded his apron and placed it on the top of the now clean counter.

The both of you were silent for the rest of the time you spent together after what ensued from earlier, only exchanging simple questions and answers regarding who would wash the dishes and keep the ingredients.

It was awkward.

With every minute of silence, you can’t help but think if he was starting to regret helping you out in the first place and if doing this was a mistake.

You nodded curtly, trying to give him a smile as best as you could.

He took a last sip of the coffee you ordered before he grabbed his car keys, eyebrows deeply knitted in thought.

You managed to let out a small “I’ll take you to the door” as you followed him outside. Wrapping your arms around you, you gave him a final nod of goodbye when he smiled slightly and waved at you.

He rolled his sleeve shirt to his forearm as you watched him walk to his car, not even looking back at you, even if you waited.

Thoughts were eating you up that night.

No.

They were swallowing you.

You fought with yourself if you should text him and check in to see if everything’s alright, maybe even say sorry for what happened even if there’s nothing that happened but an almost kiss.

After hours of rolling and tossing on your couch with a random movie left unwatched on your tv, you finally decided to text him. You erased whatever you were typing multiple times. Paragraphs turned into sentences, then sentences turned into phrases until you ended back to square one with a blank screen and you staring at his contact name.

Falling into a debate with yourself for the nth time that night, you decided with a simple “thanks for today.”

You threw your phone to the other side of the couch and shielded yourself with pillows as if your phone was going to explode any minute after you hit send on the text.

Holding your breath was not a good idea when waiting for a reply, but thankfully, you didn’t need to keep it for much longer when you heard the notification.

You sighed in relief after instantly getting a reply. Closing your eyes as you finally felt at ease. You sent a quick and safe response back, not even expecting anything from there. But after seeing him react to your message with a simple heart, something in you felt iffy.

You bit your lip, trying to imagine scenarios in your head that could possibly unfold if you sent something else.

Thinking that he wasn’t the type who would look at his phone and wait for the “typing” pop-up, you decided to feed your imagination by writing a new message.

Smiling in contentment, you stared at your screen.

Oh shit.

You fell asleep earlier. You must have left your phone unlocked and your fingers on the keyboard because you just saw that the message you typed earlier was sent.

To Felix.

And it was left on read.

Panicking, you quickly fumbled to unsend the message, but you knew it was too late.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself, starting to think of a way out. Should you call him? Should you text him and tell him that you didn’t mean to send it to him? But then, he left you on read. And that was like fifteen minutes ago already. Was he creeped out? Maybe he left you on read because he didn’t feel the same way?

Your thoughts were interrupted when the doorbell rang. Standing up from the couch, you still grabbed tightly on your phone as if it would erase the message that way.

Not bothering to see who the person was on the other side of the door, you quickly opened it, eyes still glued on the screen in worry.

“Hey.”

Rubbing your eyes in disbelief, you look at the man in front of you. He was still wearing his white sweatshirt from earlier but wore sweatpants instead of jeans, and his glasses adorned his face.

“Felix?”

His dimples popped out when he pursed his lips in thought.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, breathless once again, still not believing he was right in front of you.

“Your text,” he answered simply.

Your mouth agape, you didn’t know what to tell him. You were thinking of an excuse or any words to say at this point, but before you could even form a coherent sentence in your head, Felix placed a quick but gentle peck on your lips.

When you didn’t react or protest, he steadily placed his hands on your waist and pulled you to him.

“I hope this is okay,” he whispered when his lips were inches from yours, “because I wish I had kissed you earlier too.”

Gently, he closed the gap between the two of you, kissing you tenderly and sweetly. Your hands made their way to his face and neck and gently held him there as you kissed him back.

You giggled when you pulled away, forehead on his.

“What?” he asked.

“I could still taste the macarons.”

taglist: @ckline35 , @suyesse , @idek-at-this-point-lol , @dionyseung-s , @skzpdf , @biribarabiribbaem , @http-ch1fuyu , @todorokiskitten , @Idontreallknow-12 , @som1ig thank you so much for letting me tag you! i hope you enjoy <3 feel free to leave an ask to be removed ^^

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pettypuppy-jonghyun · 1 year

Text

Ignite | Lee Felix

Summary: a fantasy au where Felix controls the power of the sun, and his lover controls the moon

Warnings: mention of death, darkness, a little angsty plz take precaution

Dedicated to Aly for all the support and motivation I've been given 💛

Song of inspiration: Ignite by K-391

••••••2329 words••••••

In a brick house with a wooden rooftop you can hear every drop of rain as it falls. The sound of it trickling down the plastic tubes set out against the sides, planted there to help prevent a leak, echoed in the small space. The wind pushed against the tarp that was put in place as a substitute for a front door.

It wasn't really a home anymore, could barely pass as a shelter from the rain, but it had been a home for someone long ago. A place that a family could gather every evening to share warm meals and laughter-things that sounded so comforting to me right now. A pleasantry this place could no longer afford.

It was far too cold to stay forever. My hands were rubbing furiously at my arms to keep warm as I paced beneath the wooden sheet that protected me from the storms wrath. A thin coat that barely clothed any skin was laying far from me, soaked in the energy-draining rain.

In this world, when the rain comes, our powers dim. There had only been a small number of storms like today that wiped the energy from so many souls, leaving so many people without a place to go and family to be with. This storm was destructive, and it didn't stop for days, taking away every person in its path. No one was spared. We had gone so long depending on our powers that it forced us to hide any spark of power in ourselves and abandoned our livelihoods, leaving many hopeless and lost.

It came out of nowhere. It was only a few days ago when I was back home studying for a final college entrance exam. My hair was bothering me a lot that day, so I wanted to use the moon's gravitational pull to hold it back. It was a petty and simple use of my powers, for how grand they really are. I didn't know then that taking advantage of it that day was all I had left. When I reached my hand up to snap my fingers and call upon the moon's power to my will, the lights in my house had gone out. I remember running down the stairs to question the blackout with my family, who'd already been outside on the porch before I could register.

The whole world was in a blackout simultaneously. Everyone was unable to use any power they had to keep the world running again, or else it was slowly drained from them until there was nothing left. Nothing of them and nothing of their power. The rain came soon after the sun went missing. It poured heavily in an instant with no way for anyone to prepare. My family went into hiding soon after.

"Where is the sun?" everyone asked. The life of our world revolved around the solar power from the sun, and without it, everyone's powers were all greatly weakened. Thus, a terrifying storm came brewing to suck away anything that was left. My family and I were separated quickly because of it.

"Where there's a moon there's a sun", they used to tell me all the time. I grew up hearing those words a thousand times like I brought the reassurance of the world's safety because I possessed Lunar magic. To those around me, I was the safety net they could fall on in uncertain times. But the more days that passed with no sun in sight, they began to lose faith in me.

A sudden harsh movement on the blue tarp catches my attention. I froze as I watched someone push past the barrier, barging into the shabby home and allowing rain in. My heart sped up from the fear of not being able to see who was in front of me. But the voice that called my name so sweetly put me at ease instantly.

"Oh Felix!" I cried out, reaching towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck. He embraced me just as tightly, squeezing me to his chest and burrowing his face in my shoulder. "You're alright!"

Felix pulled back, hand reaching up to tuck my wet hair behind my ear. His brown eyes glowed a brilliant gold as he looked at me tenderly. I knew he could see me perfectly, even in this darkness. Because he was the light.

Where there's a moon, there's a sun.

"My sweet love," he whispers. "I'm so glad I found you."

My head fell into his chest, his hand coming to the back of it to soothe me. I began to sob, fists clenching tightly on the lips of his jacket collar. The cold air made my throat sore but I couldn't pay much mind through my tears. I was so relieved to see him. He was okay. He was safe. And he was in my arms.

After a moment we separated enough to move from the tarp at the front of the house and towards the back where less water came through. He gently guided me by my arms while sitting us both down, never letting me go too many steps apart. His glowing eyes were all I had to see. I didn't want to look away in fear the light would leave me again and I'd be alone.

"You're freezing." His right hand brushed my cheeks that stung from the sharp air. "Let me warm you up."

Felix put his hands out like they hovered over an invisible globe. A yellow spark ignited in thin air, making me gasp. "Felix, stop!" My hand encaptured his to prevent any further action.

"You'll freeze to death if I don't use my power to heat you up."

I shook my head. "Please, I don't want to lose you. If the rain drains away your power you'll die. Felix, please."

He shrugged off my hands and continued to try another spark. "I control the sun, my luna. The only thing that brings light to darkness. I'm the reason this rain is here to begin with."

The spark created a sphere of power between the center of his palms. The warmth immediately radiated from its yellow hue, slowly drying up the rain droplets from my clothing. I sighed heavily, feeling relieved at the heat but still anxious about the rain. The storm clouds were still hovering above us. It wasn't safe to project power in such an unsecured place. Still, having him with me was such a reassurance in itself. He was my other half.

"Where have you been?" I finally mustered out the question, staring into the yellow glow with hazy eyes.

His gaze fluttered to my own, eyes softening. "Some things we are better off not knowing," he replied calmly, his voice not once wavering. "If I could tell you everything, I would. In due time."

Gently, I raised my fingers to hover over his glowing ball of heat. I had seen it so many times before over the years we've been together. To us, it was a great source of light when we stayed out late and wandered parts of the woods no one had ever been before. Our innocent memories of sharing powerful energy for the most piffling circumstances flashed through my mind as I now became so dependent on it. Scenes of us practicing how to use it in school arose.

When the tips of my fingers touched the protective bubble surrounding the power, the loud sounds of the rain suddenly quietened. The yellow hue pulsated at the sensation of my energy flowing into it, turning into an intense orange color. Felix rotated his wrists at the action, twirling the orb slightly before releasing it. It hovered in the air by itself like a miniature sun before us.

I looked up to the wooden plank where the leaks lessened. "The rain is calming," I announce, finding my heart beat coming back down a normal rate as well. "Do you think it will end soon?"

His beautiful freckles were luminated by his globe. The shadow of the light highlighting my favorite feature on him. The gold in his eyes less noticeable than it was in the dark. They met mine with a flicker of despair. He had suffered just as much as I did in this storm.

"My dear luna," he calls my nickname so sweetly. "You know this rain came because there was no sun, right? The storm came hurling into the world with no warning and took out so many loved ones."

My teeth gnaw at my bottom lips as I listened to him. "Felix, its not your fault," I pleaded.

He shook his head. "If the sun fades away, we are all left vulnerable. I'm the only sun this universe has."

"You can't control when your powers fade! You didn't have a choice."

Felix sighed heavily, grasping my hand in his and pulling it to his lap. He picked at my old nail polish softly. "When I left you that day, to follow my uncle, we realized something horrible about this storm. And my power."

I waited to hear his next words. I anticipated his every breath, too scared I'd be alone in the dark if he never spoke again. When my heart picked up, so did the rain.

"Where there's a moon, there's a sun," he quotes. "Because if there is no sun for the moon, the darkness of the moon shines the brightness. And the world is left as nothing but a black hole that everyone succumbs too. For the moon's only light is the sun."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I had never heard that part of the quote before. I tightened my hand around his. "Where did you learn that?"

"The old cave down at the end of the village. Behind the waterfall. It's walls tell the legend of the moon goddess who fell in love with the sun god. When the sun god's power grew weak and was on the verge of extinction, after a new god with the power of the sun was born, the moon goddess's heart hardened. She vowed to destroy the universe if the new god replaced her lover, because it would be the cause of his death.

Her darkness reigned over the universe for a century. Gods and goddesses of all different powers came together to end her destruction. But the only way she could be stopped was if her lover's light luminated again. So the new god gifted the power back to the original sun god, allowing him to continue to live. The pair were always together to keep the peace once again. If the moon goddess appeared, dazzling in the nights sky, it meant the sun was not too far away."

"The moon goddess's powers belong to me," I continued, filling in the blanks. "And the sun to you. That's why those who gained the power of the sun and moon were fated to be lovers until death."

He nods, patting my hand. "This means that you also have gained her emotions and strong will with the power. When I left to tour the world with my uncle, even the promise to come back to you was not enough. The moon goddess was unhappy."

I retracted my hand as a shiver ran down my spine. My stomach curled as I processed the information he told me. I shook my head a few times, mumbling words under my breath. It was impossible to believe. Accepting the truth when it's put so plainly. The disturbing reason behind such a deadly rain.

"It's me," I whisper in distraught. "I created the rain."

Felix's hand cupped my cheek tenderly. "You had no control over it, my love. Please don't blame yourself. It's my fault too."

"How could you say that? When you didn't know this would happen? I caused a blackout for the entire world!"

He smiled bitterly. "This is the curse of our love. If we are ever far apart, my powers fade and your darkness reigns. We can't control it."

Tears began to silently fall down my face like a river stream. My lips trembled in fear as another sob broke through. "What are we going to do?"

He pulls me into his chest, holding me tightly. "We can't change the past," he admits sadly, recalling the many lives that may have been lost. "But we can stop the rain now. The longer it continues the worse this will get. I'm here now, so the rain can be put to an end."

"My mother's healing power!" I suggest at the sudden thought. "Those with healing powers can revive the souls who were lost!"

Felix's hand came to soothingly rub my back. "Though their powers would be weak upon revival, they may be able to get it back. It might take some time."

I sit silently, peering over his shoulders and to the damp ground. My mind spun at all the thoughts racing through it. I fiddled at the nail polish Felix was previously picking at. My heart pulsated against my chest in anxiety. Although it was absolutely terrifying at the idea all may have been potentially lost, I could swallow the idea it was fixable. As long as Felix was by my side, it was all going to be okay.

His hand clasped mine at our side. "I'm here now, so we can stop this rain. And save the people."

I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. I didn't know how to control the storm, nor did I know that I even had the power to do so prior to him telling me. Still, I dug deep into the flame in my soul, calling upon the power of my ancestors to life and come forth. The orange globe reacted, it's light flickering over my eyelids. I mouthed ancestral words to myself until I heard the sound of the rains pitter patter come to an end.

#felix #lee felix #felix fic #stray kids fanfiction #lee felix imagine #felix au #lee felix au #felix imagine #stray kids imagines #fanfic #fantasy #lovers #sun and moon #magic #stray kids au #romance #skz imagine #skz au

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tokkibbang00 · 1 year

Text

STRAY KIDS MASTERLIST

minors and ageless blogs, do not interact.

BANG CHAN

secret secret

synopsis: seeing your unrequited first love was never on the list of things you have planned as you attended your high school friend's wedding. you and chris went a long way back during elementary, you never expected your beloved friend from high school to have befriended him during college. it's been 12 years since you have last seen each other and both of you have changed; things have changed. seeing him now also feels different, in a good way at least.

LEE MINHO

none at the moment

SEO CHANGBIN

none at the moment

HWANG HYUNJIN

series:

stars and raindrops

synopsis: sweet and loving, those are words to describe your relationship with hyunjin. from the outside, everything was falling into place. but in reality, the both of you were never ready for the relationship at all. after a whole bunch of misunderstandings, you and hyunjin break your 6-month relationship. two years later, you find yourself encountering him once again with your best friend being the main cause of this reunion. what can you do? he still looks beautiful as ever.

HAN JISUNG

series:

Backburner

synopsis: It's no secret to anyone with eyes that the two of you had something special. But sometimes, special isn't just enough. You think you can stay away and prevent yourself from further falling for Han Jisung. Clearly, you were wrong. No matter how much you try to walk away, he always comes back after you— always comes back to you. inspired by Niki's Backburner.

LEE FELIX

none at the moment

KIM SEUNGMIN

none at the moment

YANG JEONGIN

none at the moment

tokki's note: characters presented in my stories do not represent anyone in real life. my works are fictional and is not real.

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nar-nia · 2 years

Text

felix (part 2)

warnings: none

word count: 1.6k

"Felix!" You couldn't believe your eyes. Was he actually here? Or was this some sort of hallucination? Were you already dead?

"Y/N.", his breath rattled, his arms shaking when he tried to pull you up.

"What are you doing here? I- "

"Can we," he took another deep breath, "please get you up first."

You did your best to help him, but your best right now consisted in digging your fingernails into his arm and grinding your feet against the wall in the hopes of finding some support. Thankfully Felix seemed to have gained some strength while he was gone, slowly pulling you up until your feet scrambled against the hole where the window was previously, until you could finally stand again.

"Thank you.", you mumbled, your eyes now fixated on Hyunjin, who was still standing there with a lazy smile on his face.

"And you! What the hell was that? You could have killed me!"

He stopped smiling, but he didn't even try to show an ounce of regret. "I told you the deal. You either join us… or that." He pointed towards the window.

You could feel your face heating up, eyebrows drawn together. "You -"

"Okay, can you leave us alone for a second? Please?", Felix intervened, trying to get some distance between you and Hyunjin. The other boy just shrugged before strolling away, like he was trying to aggravate you even more by walking extra slow. But he finally disappeared, causing you to trap Felix in a long hug.

"I've missed you.", you mumbled against his shoulder, not wanting to let go yet.

"I've missed you too."

"So what happened? Where have you been, what are you doing here, how- "

"One thing after the other.", he chuckled, softly grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the couch. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you! I was so worried that something might have happened…" You couldn't stop your knees from shaking from nerves, even when you sat down. You had been looking for him since what felt like ages, and now you finally found him. You couldn't even begin to describe how relieved you felt, but something still felt off. Where did he suddenly come from? And more importantly: had he been given the same choice as you? Because if he was still here it must mean…

"I'm okay." His answer distracted you from your thoughts, the relief making you forget about your worries shortly.

"I'm so glad.", you whispered. "But what happened?"

"Where should I start…", Felix sighed, turning his body towards you. And then he began to talk. How he found a trace towards the oddinary, how he decided to follow the clues and how he ended up here. When he started to explain how he met Hyunjin however he suddenly stopped talking. You waited for a bit, but he was silent, his eyes focused on his fidgeting hands.

"Felix?" Your soft voice made him look up, eyes resting on you. There was something inside them, but you couldn't quite figure out what. Was he nervous? Fear, maybe? It didn't seem to be something good, you were sure of that. But at least they weren't green.

"What happened with Hyunjin?" He ran his hand over his face, his expression now turning almost painful.

"Y/N… I didn't have a choice."

His words felt like sharp pieces of glass, finding its way into your heart without hesitation. Your chest felt too tight, making it harder and harder for you to breathe. You couldn't do this. You needed to get out, get somewhere… You didn't even realize that you stood up, your breathing getting frantic, your worries overwhelming you.

"Y/N…" You slapped away his hand that was trying to grab your arm, bringing some distance between you two.

"You joined them? I went through all of this and -", a sob shook your whole body, "and you just joined them? I wanted to get you back home! I almost died, Felix!" Your voice had grown even louder than before, getting almost hysterical. You couldn't even look at him right now, too disappointed, but also so, so worried about him. Would he become as lifeless as the others? As threatening?

"I'm so sorry." His voice was shaking, like he was trying hard to hold back tears. You didn't dare to look at him though.

"What will happen to you?"

"I don't know." His voice was so sad, so full of despair, that you decided to turn around after all. Your breath got stuck in your throat when you looked at your best friend, when you saw the look on his face. He used to be called sunshine by everyone around him, always in a good mood and smiling, making the people around him happy. But the Felix that stood in front of you now was an entirely different person. There were tears streaming down his face, his whole face sunken in, and his eyes… he looked so tired. And so scared.

"Felix.", you whispered, trapping him once again in a hug, your arms wrapped tightly around him. "We'll figure something out, I promise."

His previous sniffles turned into loud sobs, his hands clutching on your shirt, pulling on it in an attempt to hold you even closer. You had never seen him like this. Your hands were caressing his back, just holding him, waiting until the tears stopped, whispering little affirmations. "It's going to be okay."

His sobs slowly died down after a while, but you two remained in this position, bodies pressed closely together.

"So what happened after you said yes?", you whispered, trying to get the conversation back to your topic. Your hand was massaging his hair, trying to soothe him a bit.

He hesitated for a second, his body tensing up. "I don't know. I don't- I don't remember. Everything just turns black afterwards… until I saw you falling down the window."

"You mean after Hyunjin pushed me."

"I- yes. I think he did the same thing to me."

You let go of him, holding his shoulders to press him away to have a look at his face.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you??"

"I'm fine. He jumped after me… but after that it really all turned black."

You could feel a headache coming up. "Okay, so he saved you because you wanted to join? But why did he throw you out the window in the first place?"

"I don't know, Y/N." He sounded exhausted. But who could blame him? This was a scary situation for both of you.

"It's okay. We'll figure it out, okay? But we need to get out of here first."

"There is no way out."

"I'm sure there is. Maybe we can take the same way back? Or maybe…"

With a groan he grabbed you, forcing you towards the window again, to look down. "This is the only way out. You want to take it? Because I don't."

"You're hurting me." Your whisper was barely audible, but he instantly let go of you.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what just happened."

"It's okay." You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat, getting some distance between you two. This was definitely not the Felix you knew. Did Chan maybe already get to him? But then again, who knew what he had to endure while he was here? If only he could remember… but that had time. You really needed to get out of here before Hyunjin came back. Preferably not through the window. But going the same way back also wasn't an option. There had to be another way.

There wasn't. After searching the floor and walls for what had to be the 100th time you gave up, letting yourself fall on the couch next to Felix with a little grunt. "I told you.", he mumbled, but you chose to ignore it. You didn't need his negativity right now.

"Maybe I could pretend to join them. And when they trust me we could escape… but they already proved that they can do some sort of mind control. Did you experience anything like that?" Felix shook his head, but he didn't seem to pay much attention.

"Maybe that could be a good idea then."

"What if you actually join them?"

Your head snapped towards your friend, eyes wide open in disbelief. "What? Why would I do that, Felix, have you seen the others? I don't want to become like them! And what are they even doing? Just sitting around here all day? No thank you." You started to ramble, feeling slightly enraged by Felix suggestion. How could he say such things?

"Think about it! I already joined them, there's no way of escaping for me. And they won't let you go either now. Yes, we might turn into… whatever they are now, but we could spend time together until then." Your eyes were focused on his hands, his fingers moving towards you, intertwining with yours, holding tight.

"Don't say that." Your voice had grown quiet again. "We will get you out of here."

"We won't. Y/N please. Don't leave me here alone." You kept staring at your connected hands, deep in thought. Were you actually considering his idea? His other hand was moving towards your face, guiding a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing over your temple. And you felt yourself giving in.

"Okay."

You could feel him staring holes in the back of your head. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay." You furrowed your brows. Why was his voice suddenly so different? So cold?

before | masterlist | next

only one more chapter until we've reached the end 🤧 let me know what you thought and be excited for next week's chapter! 👀

taglist: @cb97zone @kpopworldwide @septicrebel (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

permanent taglist: @maeum-your @sunoona @hoonsmarsbar @soobin-chois @sjyuniverse @taekbokki @axartia

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids au #skz au #stray kids felix #skz felix #lee felix #lee felix au

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 1 year

Text

Step 8 : Fall In Love Anyway (L.F)

Word Count : 3.1k

Warnings : swearing, food mention, brief mention of alcohol and drinking, brief mention of anxious habits (lip chewing, biting thumbnail), emotional cheating, angst, as per usual this one hurts but there's a happy ending

A/N : And that's a wrap on the 8 Step Guide! It took a bit longer than I wanted but I finished it! I hope you enjoyed all 8 steps! Don't forget to check out my next written series Perfect For You. The prologue is already out! I will also be releasing the masterlist for my smau series soon 🥰

“Have you ever met someone that you would do absolutely anything for?” Felix chuckled at first, ready to deny ever having met such a person, but then he paused and his eyes stopped on his best friend sitting across the room. Jisung was going on about this girl he met, how incredible she was, how he would do anything for her.

And Felix realized that’s exactly how he felt about Y/n. “But how do you know it’s love and not friendship?” He asked as his mouth ran dry, watching as Y/n’s boyfriend pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she smiled the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. And his heart clenched, fire burned through his veins.

Soobin and Y/n have been dating for just over a year now. Felix has been by her side throughout their entire relationship, and not once has he felt like this. Jealousy hasn’t been something he’s felt when it came to her, because she’s his best friend. And Soobin is so good to her. He loves her. “I think if you’re asking me that, you already know the answer.” Jisung chuckled, clapping Felix on the shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You know, I always thought you knew you were in love with her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just think about it. I gotta go. Good luck with the lovebirds.”

He’s known her as long as he can remember, his little piece of Australia that came with him to Korea. Inseparable since they met. His mom has hundreds of pictures and videos of the two of them that she’ll send him sometimes. Remember this? She’ll ask. Of course he does. He’s not sure why, but he remembers all of it.

All the trips to the beach. All the scraped knees healed with bandages and kisses. Broken bones with casts covered in random drawings. Stories they made up with their figurines. Movie nights cuddled up under the same blanket that would turn into sleep overs, but their parents never minded because they always knew where they were.

People expected them to drift apart as they got older, but they seemed to get closer. Junior high came and went, and soon they were graduating high school, and moving to Korea together.

But as Felix went through these memories, he couldn’t figure out why Jisung thought he was in love with her. He had always seen her as a friend, his best friend, his other half. Of course he thought she was pretty, beautiful even, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. If he were to name his ideal type, he’d probably want someone like her, but not because he loves her.

She just understands him in ways no one else does. He knows he can be clingier than other people, and she’s never made him feel too much for that, often clinging right back. She knows what he needs just by looking at his face, knows what he’s thinking by the look in his eyes.

And his family adores her! Which is so important to him. His sisters both love her so much that the three of them still keep in touch. He’s walked into their place multiple times and has seen her on the couch, video chatting with his sisters like they were hers. It always brings a smile to his face.

His mom calls her sometimes to check in on her, and if she can’t reach her, she’ll ask him about her. His dad has teased him a lot, asking him when he’s making his move on her. Oh. Oh shit.

Felix looked over to Soobin and Y/n again, seeing her smile falling as Soobin said his goodbyes, looking at his phone. And he was gone just like Jisung, leaving Felix alone with Y/n, and his heart picked up speed. What is he supposed to do now that he knows he’s in love with her?

“Jisung had to leave too?” He could hear the hurt in her voice. But why? Wasn’t Soobin a good boyfriend? Didn’t he treat her well? Was there something he wasn’t seeing? “Soobin and I were supposed to see a movie today. I already bought the tickets, but something came up at work. Want to come with me?” How could he ever tell her no?

“I don’t know, something seems weird.” Ryujin said, shaking her head as she took a bite of her cake. “When you and Soobin first got together, he dropped everything to be with you. But now it’s the opposite. Instead of being the priority, you’ve become the option.” Y/n was chewing on her lip, afraid of what it could mean. She knows how it looks on the outside, but Soobin wasn’t that type, right?

“Wasn’t he really close with Giselle before?” Yeji asked. “I remember thinking they were dating and was actually really surprised when you told us you were dating Soobin.”

“Oh yeah! Everyone was talking about it. Said their two favourite It couples broke up.” Lia chimed in. “I’m still rooting for Y/n and Felix.” Y/n lightly slapped her on the arm.

“We’re just friends!”

“That’s what they all say!” Y/n rolled her eyes. Has she thought about Felix in that way before? Of course she has. She’s not blind. He’s handsome and cute wrapped into one. She loves when he wraps her in his arms and she’s close enough to count his freckles while he softly tells her about his day in his soothingly deep voice.

Of course she’s had dreams where they’re married with a couple kids and a dog, and she’s wrapped up in his arms just like that. And they’re talking softly while their kids sleep peacefully in their rooms, their dog at the foot of their bed. It’s wholesome, it’s domestic. And it’s just a dream with no meaning.

Felix was the first to congratulate her on her relationship with Soobin. He was the one who introduced them to begin with, playing matchmaker in the background, thinking neither of them knew. He was the one who set up the first date. He gave Soobin all the tips on how to win her over. Even if she was in love with him, he certainly isn’t in love with her.

So she holds onto the love she gets from Soobin. She knows he’s slipping through her fingers. She knows his heart no longer belongs to her, but as long as he keeps coming back to her, she can pretend that Felix is just her friend. Because even a little bit of love is better than none at all.

“Where are you?” She asks as soon as Soobin picks up her video call. He’s in his car, that much she can tell. But he doesn’t look ready for the dinner they should already been on the way to.

“You look so pretty baby. Going out tonight?” She was ready to lose her mind, ready to throw her phone, and rip her hair out of her head. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she blinked them back, clenching her jaw as she spoke again, reminding him of their plans.

“We have dinner with my parents in 20 minutes, Soobin.” His eyes widened as he was reminded of the date, and he stumbled over his words, apologizing a thousand times. “I’ll just call them and cancel. Just go do whatever was clearly more important than me.”

“Baby no! Nothing is more important than you, okay? Just tell them we’re running behind. I’ll run home and change and pick you up in 15 minutes okay? Don’t cancel baby. I know you were so excited for this. And you look too pretty to let it just go to waste. Just wait for me. I love you.” She nodded and hung up the phone before calling her mom explaining that Soobin was having car troubles so they were running a bit behind.

“Shouldn’t you be gone?” Felix asked when he walked through the door. “Whoa.” He added when he took in her full appearance. “You look absolutely stunning, Y/n.” Soobin texted to let her know he had arrived, so she stood to leave, but quickly wrapped her arms around Felix, taking him by surprise.

“Thank you, Lix.” She pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek before leaving. And Felix just stood there with his hand to his cheek, his heart pounding in his chest, and jealousy running through his veins.

“There’s my baby girl!” Her dad stood from the table, taking her into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You look amazing! Doesn’t she look just incredible, Soobin? Gets it from her old man.” Soobin nodded with a smile, taking a quick look at his phone, sending off a text, before sitting down. Y/n tried not to let it bother her because he was here with her.

“We ordered a bottle of champagne since this is a celebration.” Her mom spoke up. “My baby girl is growing up so fast! Already managing her own team. Next thing you know you’ll be a CEO.”

The waiter came by with the champagne, pouring everyone a glass, and taking orders, but Soobin was still somewhere else, glancing at his phone. He tried to engage in conversation, but he kept going back to his phone. She really tried not to think much of it, trying to focus on her celebration dinner, but it was hard when out of the corner of her eye, all she could see was her boyfriend occupied with something else.

“A toast!” Her dad began, raising his glass, catching Soobin’s attention just long enough for him to slide his phone into his pocket and raise his own glass. “To my little girl who grew up way too fast before my very eyes and is now living her dreams. I always knew you could do it, pumpkin.” The four of them lightly clinked glasses before each taking a sip.

“Remember to take care of yourself and don’t work too hard. Just because you got promoted doesn’t mean you need to do everything yourself, okay?”

“Of course mom. I’ll make sure to eat and drink plenty of water.”

“And sleep! Sleep is important too.” Y/n giggled, nodding, and agreeing to sleep as well. She made sure her parents got into their car okay before making her way to Soobin’s car, who was already in the driver’s seat, talking to someone on the phone.

“I’ll be there soon, okay? I just have to drop Y/n off at home. Don’t leave the door unlocked, I have a key. Mmhmm, love you too.” She said nothing as she buckled her seatbelt, staring straight ahead. She didn’t want to believe it was true, but how could it not be? “That was nice. Next time we should pay for them.”

“Do you even know why they paid for dinner today?” Her arms were crossed over her chest, jaw clenched, brows furrowed, and Soobin put the car back into park, knowing he fucked up. It wasn’t an anniversary, or a birthday. He’s sure he didn’t miss anything, but he wasn’t paying much attention during the dinner, and he knows she noticed.

“I’m sorry I was distant during dinner baby. But something-“

“Something came up at work.” He nodded. “You just tell your coworkers you love them then? Tell them not to leave the door unlocked because you have a key?”

“It’s not what you think, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.” He reached out for her but she just shook her head, telling him to drive her home so he could get to whoever is more important than her. “There’s no one more-“ He shut up with the cold glare she shot him and quietly drove her home, the only sound coming from the wind blowing outside.

She immediately got out of the car when they pulled up to her house, and he followed her, wrapping his hand around her wrist, and she met his eyes.

“I promise you it’s not what you think.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “It was Giselle. She’s just going through a lot right now and really needs me and I had promised to go over right after work, but I remember you being excited about this dinner, and I wanted to be there for you.”

“I was excited because I was promoted, Soobin. It was a celebration dinner. And you would have known that if you paid even a sliver of attention to me at all tonight, but your mind has been filled with nothing but Giselle for months now. So just tell me right now, do you love her?” He opened his mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come out. He couldn’t deny having feelings for Giselle, but did he love her? Not the way he loved Y/n, but his hesitation gave her the answer she needed, and she turned away, but he caught her wrist again.

“Y/n wait!”

“I got my answer Soobin. And that’s fine. We shouldn’t be together if we both love someone else.” His grip loosened. “You love her, and I love Felix.”

Felix wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He knows he wasn’t supposed to hear it, knows it was a private conversation between a couple, an ex couple. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Her words ringing through her mind, You love her, and I love Felix. And he can’t help but wonder if she meant it. Or did she just say it so Soobin wouldn’t win?

Does Felix confess to her? Would it be wrong of him? He paces, chewing on his thumbnail, deep in thought, and Jisung just watches him. “What’s up with him?” Minho asks, taking a seat next to him, handing him his coffee. And Jisung just shrugs.

“Midlife crisis?”

“Nah too young.”

“Existential crisis?” Minho studies Felix’s face for a few minutes before shaking his head again.

“Seems deeper than that. This is a love crisis.” Jisung smiled to himself, shaking his head before taking a sip of his coffee. “You know something I don’t. Spill.”

“He’s in love with Y/n.”

“Huh. Classic.” The two just sat there, watching Felix pace back and forth as he thought through everything that could go wrong if he were to confess. It could ruin their friendship, friendship they’ve had for their entire lives. She could laugh in his face, ask why she would ever return his feelings. She could pity him, feel bad for not returning his feelings, tell him she loves Soobin, that her heart was just broken and that’s why she said what she said. He was never meant to hear it. She could hate him for listening in on her conversation.

But there’s one outcome that could make it all worth it. One outcome that makes all the bad fade away. The outcome where she meant it. The one where she really does love him. “I’m going to confess.” He says suddenly and then leaves. Minho and Jisung just exchange looks, shrugging their shoulders, and then continue about their day. Weirder things have happened.

“You did the right thing.” Ryujin said matter-of-factly as she ate her cake. The other girls agreed quickly, each chiming in with things they didn’t like about Soobin between bites of their own lunches.

“I’m still rooting for Y/n and Felix.” Yeah, she is too. “Best friends to lovers? Best trope in my opinion.”

“And they’re childhood best friends!” Yeji chimed in.

“Even better!” Lia cried. She grabbed Y/n’s hands, pouting as she looked her in the eyes. “Please date Felix! You two would be so cute!!!” Y/n just chuckled, pulling her hands away, patting Lia’s hands.

“That’s not just up to me.”

“Oh please that man is obsessed with you.” Ryujin spoke up as she took the final bite of her cake.

“Please eat something other than cake.” Yeji said, sliding some of her food over to her. Ryujin immediately slid it back, keeping eye contact with Yeji as she pulled out another slice of cake, immediately taking a bite, still not breaking eye contact. “Though I don’t agree with her eating habits, I do agree that Felix loves you.” Lia was quick to agree, still pleading her with her eyes.

“You three are relentless. I’m going back to work.”

She didn’t want to think about it, the possibility of Felix returning her feelings. But it was the only thing running through her mind her entire way home. She spent years pushing her feelings aside, pretending they weren’t there, hoping one day they would go away, or he’d confess to her. But her feelings continued to grow, and he introduced her to Soobin.

It was as if he knew she loved him and it was his way of rejecting her. Introducing her to someone that would treat her right, love her right. For a short time anyway, but there was someone else in his life. Another girl that took his attention and heart away. And the small amount of love she was okay with receiving wasn’t enough anymore.

She wanted Felix. And she hated that the only person she wanted was him. It hit her all at once. After years pushing anything that felt like love to the side, it hit her all at once. Walking into their shared house seeing a trail of rose petals leading up to a dinner for two, a candle in the middle of the table, Felix standing next to it in a suit, holding a bouquet with a shy smile on his face. “Welcome home.”

“What’s all this?” So many emotions hit her at once. But the one that stuck out the most was love. And she knew she couldn’t push it aside anymore. It was time to feel it in full force.

“My confession.” He held out the bouquet for her to take. “Do you accept?” She couldn’t help the smile that made its way to her face as she took the flowers from his hand.

“Yeah. I accept.”

“Good because this took way too long to cook. Shall we?” He gestured to the dinner he made set up on the table and she nodded. He pulled out a chair for her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before sitting across from her, watching as her cheeks went red, just like his when she kissed his. And it was like a dream come true. Falling in love with his best friend and having her fall in love with him too.

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stayxlix · 9 months

Text

off the deep end. (06)

~(part six) the echoes of loss ~

pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)

genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 20.8k

series rating: 18+ **minors do not interact**

chapter warnings: violent mature themes, explicit sexual content (consensual, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), dom/sub themes), mentions of murder/death, oppressive government, fighting, weaponry (gunfire, knife use), injury, blood, vivid descriptions of nightmares, language, major angst as always, please lmk if i missed any!!

a/n: thank you all so much for your patience and continued support, it really does keep this story alive.<3 as always any feedback, likes, and reblogs are more appreciated than you know. i've been feeling a lil nervous to post this (what else is new lol) but im so happy to finally be able to share it with you. i hope you enjoy this one, its a bit of a doozy.♡♡

~series masterlist~

“Things become sweeter after they have been lost. When I finally grasped what I'd so desperately yearned for, it was turned to dust in my hands. And a small part of my mind remembers an alternate pattern of events, before I opened my eyes and returned to cold embrace of a reality in which I never truly belonged.”

Swallowed by darkness, he's stumbling backward but he isn't going anywhere. His mind isn't working correctly, isn't processing. His knees hit the ground and he closes his eyes but he can still see them. Misshapen faces, their expressions warped, disfigured, as they look through him. Right down to where the remorse festers in his guilt-ridden soul. He's delirious, on the verge of flight or fight. His chest constricts as he takes in shallow breaths. He tries to speak, to beg for their forgiveness. Yet its as if his lips have been sewn shut, his tongue far too heavy to move.

Instead, they speak to him in distorted voices that swell as he covers his ears. And suddenly they're reaching out, clamping icy fingers around his throat, pulling his hair, clawing deep scratches into his skin. They ask if he remembers their faces, what he's done to them, but how could he forget? Don't they know he carries it with him? Don't they know how it haunts him? He recoils, he fights to break free, but its no use. It never is. Even as his eyes wrench open, their grip lingers. A permanent reminder that they’re a part of him, and they always will be. Waiting for him there in the shadows every time he dares to close his eyes.

With a sudden jolt, his body shot upright from the hard wooden floor, covered in cold sweat that sent a shiver coursing through his frame. A shuddering exhale fell from his lips as he ran a trembling hand through his hair. A single tear traced a silent path down his cheek—a physical manifestation of the nightmare.

He blinked, taking in his surroundings.

Shadows danced across the walls as the faint glow of the moon filtered in through the boarded window above his head. As his breathing steadied, his focus began to sharpen. There, around him, lie the slumbering forms of his friends, his soul mates, the only people in the world he could trust. Each was nestled in their own corner of the room, soundly asleep, their tranquil faces untouched by the horrors that plagued his own mind.

And then, he glanced down to his side, to the figure closest to him.

You stirred, a slight pout forming on your lips as if your subconscious had somehow sensed his absence. His fingers twitched as he watched the slow, steady rhythm of your chest, and an unconscious urge fell over him to reach out and touch you. To reassure himself that this was real.

That you were real.

He eased his aching body back down onto the floor. You shifted closer, instinctively reaching out for him, and he welcomed the warmth of your touch.

Felix knew he’d have no chance at falling asleep again tonight, the clutches of the nightmare having left their mark on his consciousness. It was routine. He was used to it. So he lie there, still and contemplative, as his eyes trained to the ceiling. And it was in moments like these that his mind often drifted, the quiet solitude granting him the opportunity to reflect on his past and the individuals that had shaped his present.

Felix was born into a life stripped of control. He gritted his teeth when the devil’s symbol was seared into his back. He took lives when commanded—some innocent, some not—but he did it without question because it was all he’d ever been taught to do. Like second nature, he had grown numb to its weight. And in a twisted way, the sense of control that taking a life brought had become addicting to Felix. A fleeting illusion of power in a world where he’d always had none.

By the time Felix met Bang Chan, he had forgotten what it meant to be human, if he had ever truly known at all. He walked through life with a detached numbness. A hollow vessel, weighed down by the gravity of his sins. When Felix met Bang Chan, he had all but lost his soul. However it quickly became clear that Chan, despite being just a few years older than Felix, possessed the ability to help him find it again.

With the wisdom of someone far beyond his age, Chan became a guiding light for Felix. He instilled in Felix a moral compass, and although it might have been a broken compass that didn't function correctly all the time, at least it was there. At least Chan was there, to guide Felix back whenever the needle threatened to point in the wrong direction.

And so, in time, with Chan by his side Felix gradually came to realize that despite the desolation around them, despite the horrible things he had done in his life and the monsters who had forced him to do them, there would always be things worth fighting for.

Things worth fighting for, and people worth believing in.

Felix had never come across anyone with such innate passion for survival, until he crossed paths with Seo Changbin. A force to be reckoned with, Changbin was unapologetically himself. A fiercely loyal companion who challenged Felix to push beyond his limits—both physically and mentally. Changbin was the flame that reignited Felix's spirit, and through his unwavering support, Felix gathered the strength to keep moving forward no matter how hopeless things may seem.

Felix had never been particularly fond of loud noises, until he heard Han Jisung fill an empty space with laughter for the first time. In Jisung’s presence, Felix often found himself caught in fleeting moments where he could allow himself to be young, to feel free. He gained new experiences through Jisung, who had a way of weaving captivating stories and spinning enchanting tales that demanded the attention of everyone around him. Even if it was no secret among the group that many of Jisung's stories were fabrications, born from his own need to conceal the burdens he carried, that didn’t stop Felix from hanging on to every word. And sometimes, on sleepless nights when the lines between nightmare and reality blurred, when he felt himself slipping away again, Felix would replay those stories in his mind. He would imagine himself in Jisung’s place instead, and it helped.

Felix had never truly grasped the fragile nature of human life, until he was introduced to Lee Minho. Despite his awareness of Minho's skills as a trained healer, Felix was more than hesitant to let the boy from District 9 treat his wounds. His body bore a map of faded scars. Every mark served as a permanent reminder of the cruel nature of the world that had shaped him. The idea of relinquishing control, even to someone as capable as Minho, ignited a fire of reluctance within Felix. And so, instead of accepting his help, Felix chose to let his own cuts bleed as he observed Minho tend to the wounds of his companions. Countless times, he watched Minho’s patient hands move with a touch so delicate it was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before.

But this wasn't the only reason that Felix found himself drawn to Minho's presence. Because Felix came to realize that beyond his remarkable ability to mend physical wounds, Lee Minho also possessed a unique understanding of the intricacies of the human heart.

In Minho's company, Felix didn’t feel the need to maintain a facade of unyielding strength the same way he did with Chan. And whereas Jisung introduced Felix to fleeting moments of happiness, Minho taught Felix that it was okay to feel like he didn’t deserve them—that grappling with his self worth didn't make him weaker. Minho's impact on shaping his sense of self was profound. And it was because of this that Felix, who had entered the world without an identity, eventually came to find comfort in embracing Minho's surname as his own.

Lee Felix found himself captivated by the bond shared between Kim Seungmin and Yang Jeongin, a testament to the strength that comes from placing unwavering trust in another human being. Their connection stirred a repressed longing within Felix for a similar closeness, and Seungmin’s patient demeanor granted Felix the freedom to achieve it. To open up at his own pace, to learn to navigate the delicate art of trust on his terms. Seungmin asked questions with genuine interest, but he didn’t pry, he didn’t judge, and so he and Felix were quick to develop a bond of their own built on the steady foundation of mutual respect.

In Jeongin, Felix witnessed an innocence that he himself had been denied. Throughout his life, Felix had grown accustomed to the way others regarded him. Those he had targeted as victims consistently bore the same expressions of fear. And among the boys, despite their best efforts to conceal it, there was always an undertone of pity in their eyes when they looked to Felix.

But when Felix met Jeongin's eyes, he saw no traces of fear or pity behind them. Instead, he saw genuine admiration. And although the role of mentorship was not something Felix had ever sought, it was in the youngest member of the group that he discovered a newfound sense of purpose—the responsibility to serve as a guardian himself in a world where innocence was more than rare.

Lee Felix had never found comfort in a silent space, and he never understood people who did. People like Hwang Hyunjin, who could sit for hours underneath a gnarled oak tree with only the still air and a journal to keep him company. To Hyunjin, the silence was as much of an empty canvas as the pages in front of him, and he used it to sketch his thoughts in elegant strokes, capturing the faded beauty of a dying world. Hyunjin’s ability to create something delicate with his own two hands was a talent that fascinated Felix, who’d always had a tendency to overlook the intricate details of life.

Always restless, constantly on the move, Felix was a perpetual wanderer who trampled over flowers underneath his shoes, who paid no mind to the warmth of a summer breeze against his skin. Even the moon had once been nothing more than a distant companion to Felix, overshadowed by the need to keep moving to survive.

Until he found Hyunjin.

After fate led Felix to Chan, it brought him to Hyunjin.

Beneath an uncharacteristically clear sky on a sweltering summer afternoon in District 4, Felix found himself compelled to venture out in search of water. It'd been a few days since he’d last seen Chan after the older boy had embarked on a supply run that he'd insisted on making alone, so after leaving behind a small note in their usual spot, Felix set off. Determined not to stray too far, his steps were fueled not only by his parched tongue but also the need to keep his mind off of his growing concern for Chan’s absence.

It wasn't long before Felix found himself within a thick patch of vegetation, where he came across a small pond. And as he stood at the pond's edge, swiping the hair from his sticky forehead and debating on whether or not he was desperate enough to drink the murky liquid, a figure emerged from the brush on the opposite side.

A golden haired boy, injured and in desperate need of help.

Felix’s initial instinct was to take advantage of the boy’s vulnerabilities, to steal what he could from him and abandon him to his fate. But he was different now. He was no longer the person he once was. Throughout his time spent alongside Chan, Felix had learned how to reset his own compass. And so, with newfound clarity he cautiously approached the boy. Felix draped an arm around his waist, and in silence he helped support the boy's weight as the two retraced his steps back to camp.

That night, as the boy drifted in and out of consciousness, Felix’s knowledge of his background remained confined to a single detail. A name—Hyunjin. And as Hyunjin slept, Felix pressed two fingers to his neck periodically to make sure that his heart was still beating.

Felix thanked the gods he'd never believed in when Chan returned the following evening. Through a single shared glance between two kindred souls who had become attuned to each other’s thoughts, a silent conversation was held. Understanding passed between them, followed by a nod of approval from Chan that resonated deeply with Felix.

While Chan himself was no medical expert, his time spent navigating the districts had offered him a bit more understanding about basic healing than Felix—who had been trained solely in the art of taking lives, never saving them. Chan hastily took over Hyunjin’s care, making most of the limited supplies he had returned with. And that night, as the moon returned to bathe their campsite in a delicate silver embrace, as Chan monitored Hyunjin’s sleeping form, he shared with Felix the story of a place called Clé and a woman named Hira.

His words painted the picture of a sanctuary for lost souls, orchestrated by an arms dealer whose beauty shone through her scars. The corridors within Clé called out to those who believed in the possibility of an escape from their lives. However, its doors were not open to all seeking solace.

Hira selected her guests with a discerning eye, choosing to bestow her favor upon only the most physically alluring souls. And those deemed unworthy were turned away, left to return to the unforgiving terrain of the districts they so desperately wished to escape.

Individuals that did find themselves granted access to Clé were groomed to master the art of pleasure, sculpted and shaped to perfection through teachings that revolved around the art of evoking desire and temptation. And when Hira deemed them sufficiently molded by her touch, she would whisper them away to District 9, transported by armed guards to the heart of the Inner Circle—where their beauty would become its own form of currency, traded away to the leaders who governed its polished streets.

It was a journey that came at the highest of prices, demanding a sacrifice of dignity in pursuit of survival. A final attempt to slip free from the rusty chains of their current existence, only to find themselves imprisoned on the other side by a shiny new cage with an unbreakable lock.

It didn’t take long for Chan’s heavy eyes to fall shut that night, eager to embrace the welcome arms of sleep now that he was back where he belonged. But even as light began to flood the sky above, sleep remained elusive for Felix. He suddenly found himself gripped by an unexpected gratitude for his own past, for it had ultimately led him in the opposite direction from the sinister paths that snaked throughout District 9. And as he lie there pondering the twists and turns of fate, Felix found himself wondering if he would have meet Hira's standards, had he found himself seeking refuge within Clé. He contemplated whether or not he would ever have been deemed worthy of a destination such as District 9—a question that lingered within his consciousness for quite some time, even if he had no real desire to know the answer.

As the days turned to weeks, as Hyunjin's condition gradually improved, the duo became a trio. They fell into a seamless rhythm, trading roles and responsibilities without the need for explicit communication. Hyunjin effortlessly assumed the role of the heartstrings that held the three of them together. Each time Felix let his temper get the best of him, it was Hyunjin who went chasing after. Whenever Chan pushed himself beyond his limits, it was always Hyunjin who stepped up in his place. And as the weeks faded into months, as Felix came to know Hyunjin on a deeper level, it was as if a filter over his eyes had begun to lift. The once-overlooked intricacies of the world now caught his attention. Hyunjin intrigued Felix in a way that nothing ever had, and the shared curiosity between them prompted the two to weave a separate history of their own.

But it was a complicated history, one that struggled to withstand the pull of Felix’s dark past. Because whenever their friendship edged on evolving into something more, Felix would instinctively withdraw, grappling with his inner turmoil and the fear of exposing Hyunjin to the mistakes of his past. Hyunjin, too, harbored secrets of his own, which only added to the strain between them. And despite the tender moments that were truly good, they were both still so young. Too young to fully understand the complexities of love and life.

Too human, to comprehend the workings of fate and destiny, but still perceptive enough to appreciate the significance of what had brought them together. Which is why, even after it all came crashing down, spiraling far out of either of their control, the bond between them remained. A delicate bond, worn and frayed at the edges, was left lingering in place of something that could have been so much more. But it remained, nonetheless. Because Hyunjin had been there on nights when Chan couldn’t be. When Felix woke from unforgiving nightmares, drenched in sweat and overcome with fear, the golden haired boy was at his side in an instant to wipe away his tears and provide soft hums that lulled him back to sleep.

And so even now, in moments when his ears buzzed with silence, Felix continued to find peace in Hyunjin's presence. Because just as Chan had shown Felix the difference between right and wrong, between morality and depravity, Hyunjin taught Felix the true essence of living. To appreciate the colors of the sky when before he had only seen shades of grey. To hear the music in a quiet moment when there was no sound. To feel the warmth of shared memories through the ghost of Hyunjin’s touch, long after he stopped receiving it.

Hyunjin left a new kind of mark on Felix, a testament to the level of emotion he was capable of feeling. Which is why when Felix met you it was as if fate had given him a second chance to explore the depths of human connection. He built his walls like always—old habits die hard, or something like that—but this time Felix built them on a foundation that was just a little less sturdy.

A fraction less resilient than before.

Because in your eyes, he saw the reflection of the person he was still struggling to become—someone who had known darkness and pain but still managed to overcome it. You didn’t avoid his scars, you looked directly at them with understanding and acceptance in your eyes. And in the intimate moments when it was just the two of you, Felix felt a sense of belonging that he had never experienced before. Not even with Hyunjin, whose efforts to unravel his innermost layers had fallen short because there was a part of Felix that Hyunjin could never fully reach, no matter how hard he fought to.

But you, you soothed his burning skin with your touch, closed open wounds with every kiss, mended his broken soul a little further every time you spoke his name. Which is why this time, Felix wasn’t just letting his walls come down—he was tearing them down himself. Because in your presence, Felix had begun to develop the hope that some day he would be able to free himself completely from the darkness that had once consumed him.

And as he lie there beside you that night in Clé, Felix couldn't help but notice the way your fingers occasionally brushed across his form as if to reassure yourself that he was there. He shut his eyes, he recalled the gentle pressure of your hands through his hair just hours before, and as he relished in the comforting warmth of your body next to his, Felix felt himself begin to believe in the possibility of a different kind of love that wouldn’t end in loss.

For the first time in his life, Felix allowed himself to entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

The night was eerily still, save for the faint rustling of leaves outside as a gentle breeze slipped in through the boards covering the windows. You were lost in a comfortable, dreamless sleep when an insistent shake startled you awake. When your eyes snapped open you found yourself face to face with Felix, his own eyes wide and brimming with alarm.

“Hey, wake up,” his hushed voice reached your ears through the darkness, and despite the drowsiness that still clung to your senses, it would have been impossible to miss the urgency in his tone. “Something isn’t right.”

You sat up quickly, the familiar feeling of adrenaline beginning to flood your veins once again, erasing any lingering remnants of sleep. Felix draped the jacket you had been using as pillow around himself before promptly pulling you to your feet.

“What’s happening? Where is everyone?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your free hand as you registered the emptiness of the room that had been full when you'd fallen asleep. Felix shook his head, his grip on your hand firm as he swiftly guided you toward the door. “They’re downstairs. We need to go.”

“What? Go where?"

“Anywhere but here, we need to go," he urged. Without further question, you hurriedly followed him down the dimly lit corridor. When your gaze briefly fell to the supply closet, your time spent inside with him earlier that night flashed through your mind, warming your cheeks. But the memory was quickly overshadowed by a shrill cry that pierced the air when you reached the top of the staircase.

Felix quickened his pace, mirroring the rising hysteria in the voice that grew louder with every step you descended. Your hold on him tightened when you registered the words it carried.

The same words. Two simple words. Repeated over and over again.

I'm sorry.

The source of the voice was revealed at the bottom of the staircase, where you were met with the sight of Yeonjun, kneeling on the floor in the kitchen. A handful of small candles flickered on the table, casting a warm glow across face—cheeks wet with tears, puffy eyes red and swollen as he looked up to where Hira stood over him.

Sensing your unease, Felix lightly squeezed your hand, urging you to stay put as he observed the exchange between Yeonjun and Hira.

"How could you?!" Hira’s voice erupted in sudden anger, her fury directed down at the crying boy. Her tone was chilling, ice cold, and the words that followed sent an electric shock drilling up your spine. “You’ve sentenced us all to death.”

Glancing to Felix, you held your breath as you watched his features darken. The look in his eyes reflected your own growing realization, and your suspicions were confirmed when Yeonjun's voice rang out again.

“They threatened me! They were going to kill me, and they were going to come back for you!" A sob caught in his throat, and he paused to swallow it down before continuing. “They promised to let us go..they said they wouldn’t hurt anyone..that they just wanted to talk to them, and I-I’m sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, Felix."

When Yeonjun turned to look at him, Felix froze. His eyes went wide and his grip on your hand went stiff, leaving you with a sinking feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach.

Because not only did he know why Yeonjun was sorry, but he knew exactly who they were.

And so did you.

Movement against the far wall caught your attention as the thin curtain over the window was blown aside by a gust of wind. Through the open space, you noticed two round spots of yellow light in the distance. And Yeonjun's cries were drowned out by the frantic drumming of your heartbeat in your ears when you realized that they were headlights.

Time stood still as the fragile moment of solace you had found with the freckled boy last night was shattered to irreparable pieces. From the corner of your vision, you caught sight of Hyunjin as he came rushing in through the entrance to the kitchen. “They're getting closer, we need to go now!" His panicked words, along with your shared understanding of the situation, left no room for further hesitation from either you or Felix.

A fiery determination seemed to ignite within Felix when he began to move, dragging you with him. You lowered your head as you passed by Yeonjun and Hira in the confined space, however your heightened senses were immediately called back into focus when a cold hand clasped around your free wrist. Your movement came to an abrupt halt, causing Felix to do the same. With wide eyes, you lifted your head to him before shifting your gaze down to where Hira had claimed a vice-like grip on your flesh.

As her sharp nails dug into your skin, leaving deep crescent shapes underneath, her elegant features twisted into something unsettling—something outright disturbing, that grew even more pronounced when her lips parted to speak.

"This is your fault," she snapped. "I knew it was you from the moment I laid eyes on you. The resemblance..I never expected to see her face again..but you..you look just like her."

The scrutiny in her eyes held a flicker of recognition, as if she saw someone else when she looked at you—as if you were suddenly entangled in a history that you hadn’t been a part of writing. And your mind raced as you tried to make sense of whatever connection she could possibly believe that you had to her own past.

“I-I don't know what you're talking about,” your voice quivered as she took a step closer. When you tried to free your wrist, she fastened her hold, forcibly yanking you toward her.

"Felix-"

The freckled boy reacted immediately when his name fell from your lips. Dropping your other hand, he lunged forward in a single motion, prying Hira's fingers from your wrist with such force that she stumbled back, colliding harshly with the wall. Long strands of tangled hair fell into her face at the impact, but she made no effort to sweep them away as her gaze shifted from Felix back to you.

Her words hovered in the space between you, but before they could fully settle in your mind, before you got any chance at all to ask her what they meant, a single bullet fell in through the open window—striking Hira in the skull with lethal precision.

Blood splattered across the wall behind her, a few droplets landing against your cheek as her lifeless body slumped to the ground.

Every muscle in your body locked as your focus tunneled to the frozen expression on her face and the disturbing sensation of the warm droplets against your skin.

Yeonjun’s cries turned violent when he crawled over to take her into his arms. And as you watched him cradle her limp form, the world around you suddenly felt so distant that hardly any of it seemed real at all.

When a second bullet embedded itself into the wall at your side, Felix swiftly drew you into the shelter of his chest. His deep voice resounded through the air, rising above Yeonjun's as he shouted at Hyunjin to “GO!” assuring him that the two of you would be close behind.

Around you, Hira's guests began to flood the room from various directions—the common area behind you, the staircase up ahead—and as their eyes fell upon their fallen leader, their shrieks formed a chilling chorus that drove you to seek further refuge in Felix's chest. He covered your ears with his hands to shield you from their screams, his touch gentle even amidst the chaos.

“Princess I need you to move, we have to go now,” he pleaded, tilting your head to meet his gaze. And the effect was immediate. The unspoken promise in his eyes to keep you safe, the sound of his voice, coupled with with the caress of his thumbs as they swiped the blood from your cheeks—it worked. Felix brought you back to the present moment as you grasped hold of the fact that your survival, that his survival, depended on getting the hell out of there.

You managed a single nod, and Felix took it as your agreement. In an instant, his arms were back around you as he began to shoulder through the horrified guests in the room. When you stumbled free of the kitchen, he broke into a swift run, replacing his grip on your hand.

"Stay close," he instructed, and you responded with a firm squeeze to his hand.

Outside, the fresh air hit cold against your clammy skin, shocking you out of fear and replacing it with fierce determination to protect the boy whose fingers were interlocked with yours. The moon that you had depended on for guidance so many times before was shrouded in darkness tonight. Unfamiliar voices, gunfire, and the rumble of a single engine in the distance filled the air behind you, disorienting you further.

Around the backside of the building, flashes of movement revealed where the rest of the boys had gathered at the rover. “They’re closing in! We need to get out of here!” Chan shouted in your direction.

Felix lifted the motorcycle to a standing position, and while he ensured it was ready to go, you squinted through the darkness to count the bodies in the rover.

Seven.

There were seven, including Hyunjin, who had assumed his original place beside Jisung. When you settled down on the bike after Felix, he reached behind himself to secure your arms around his waist. “Don’t let go, I’ve got you," he affirmed. His voice carried steady strength, and there was a sincerity in his words that made you believe that he meant them—that he did have you. And that you would always be safe with Felix, even if it would never be possible for him to guarantee.

When the rover carrying the rest of the boys surged ahead, Felix followed suit. Positioning the bike at its side, he quickly took the lead in front of Chan who directed him to steer the chase deeper into District 6. It meant veering off course from the route you had originally planned to take to get to Miroh, but none of that mattered now.

The morning you’d spent planning for your journey inside Yellow Wood felt like it had taken place years ago.

The night you’d shared with Felix on the rooftop, a lifetime.

Guided by a single headlight, Felix navigated the dark terrain expertly. He mastered every twist and turn, every jolt and bump, with skilled precision. And as the ground beneath you transitioned from soil into concrete, the barren stretches of land suddenly gave way to remnants of civilization once again.

Above you, a passing cloud released the the moon, freeing it to cast long shadows across fractured pavement that led straight toward a city. An abandoned city, from the looks of it, as there was no flickering firelight in the distance, no glimmering lanterns—only a dark expanse. An oppressive, pitch-black void that radiated something menacing, as if warning you to stay away.

The wind stung against your face when you lifted it from Felix's back. “You know where you’re going?!"

His attention remained fixed straight ahead as he shouted, “Been here a few times! Not enough to remember it all but we might be able to lose them in the streets!” And then, in a single movement, Felix placed one of his hands over yours where they were interlocked at his waist. It was a small gesture meant to reassure you, that instead made you regret everything—the entire chain of decisions that had led you to this point. Because the thought of what would happen to him if you weren't able to outrun your fathers guards tonight was a burden that you couldn't fathom bearing.

Towering structures loomed overhead as the vehicles raced into the city, their windows like hollow eyes watching over you as the sounds from the pursuing guards resonated in the near distance. The guards were close, but Felix was fast. He weaved in every direction, attempting to use the crumbling structures to your advantage, and surely he would have succeeded in losing them amidst the ruins if it had just been the two of you on the motorcycle. But the layout proved to be an added challenge because wherever he went, Felix had to ensure that Chan would be able to get through behind you.

And if he could, then your father’s guards could too.

Rounding a corner as you neared heart of the city, the street you had been following was unexpectedly barricaded by a collapsed building, leaving you trapped.

With no way forward, Felix brought the bike to a screeching halt.

“Fuck we have to find another way. Hold on,” he muttered, maneuvering the bike around just as Chan and the others pulled up behind you.

"We’re never going to be able to outrun them!” Minho shouted, his eyes darting back and forth in search of the best sign of escape.

“Everyone get out! We'll go on foot!” Chan commanded. And the boys obeyed without hesitation, driven solely by survival. Because that's what it was—survival. If caught, your father's men wouldn’t let them live.

And every single one of you knew it.

Following your lead, Felix swiftly dismounted the motorcycle. He cast it aside before reaching for your hand again, and you didn't hesitate to take it as Chan directed the group toward a building with glass doors that had been shattered open, beckoning you closer.

Upon entering, you found yourselves within a vast, open space underneath a high ceiling supported by several white pillars that gave the place an air of importance. Moonlight streamed in through elongated windows overhead, casting silhouettes along the once-pristine interior. The pale marble beneath your feet was cracked at nearly every inch of its surface, rendering you unsteady.

In a race against time, you pushed yourself to run faster than you ever had, pulled forward the boy you would have given anything to protect. Ragged breathing filled the air as you closed in on a second set of doors at the far end of the space, but before you could exhale a sigh of relief, a sudden cry rang out from behind you.

Your eyes swept across the scene, instantly drawn to where Jeongin was sprawled on the ground a few feet away, clutching his foot as he hissed in pain. It was difficult to discern through the darkness exactly what had happened, until a single beam of moonlight caught on something shiny protruding from the worn out sole of his shoe.

A shard of glass.

Felix took a step forward but Chan was closer, quickest to reach Jeongin’s side.

“I can keep going,” Jeongin insisted through clenched teeth as Changbin joined Chan in lifting him from the ground. His arms looped around their shoulders, and he began to limp forward while Chan shouted at the rest of you to keep moving.

You turned to Felix and when his wide eyes connected with your own, a sinking feeling took hold over your entire body. “It’s okay, we’re okay,” he breathed. Yet despite his words, despite his best efforts to conceal his fear, the steadfast determination that had marked his expression only minutes before had vanished entirely.

In an instant it was as if if you could feel your undeniable fate settle in around you, ready to consume you whole.

Slowed down by Jeongin’s injury, the danger the nine of you faced had reached a critical point. And the realization that you weren’t going to be able to escape it dawned on you the very moment you emerged from the threshold on the opposite side of the building.

Felix was first of the group to make it out, followed closely by you with your hands still interlocked. The second you set foot onto the pavement, the entire area around you was flooded with a blinding burst of light.

Flashlights and a single set of headlights were switched on, causing your senses to reel. Your eyes painfully adjusted to the sudden brightness, and your feet skidded on the gravel as you instinctively sought refuge behind Felix, lifting your hood and pulling it low to shield your face.

The menacing sound of numerous firearms being raised echoed throughout the air as they took aim at you from every direction. And the severity of the situation escalated even further when a second rover came barreling around the corner to join the first—rendering you severely outnumbered, with virtually no chance at escape.

Felix made an effort to withdraw, stumbling as he pushed you behind him. “Go, go, go!” he repeated, desperately urging you to retreat back inside the building. But despite his insistence, fear rooted you in place.

Over your shoulder, you watched as Minho and Changbin swiftly raised their own guns, taking up defensive positions just inside the entrance, knuckles white against the weapon's dark metal. They stood at the forefront next to Chan, who met your gaze through the shattered glass doors that separated you. And although his stance was resolute, the sheer terror in his eyes was overwhelming.

“Enough! Stand down!” a bellowing voice ripped through the air without warning. It was a familiar voice, you had heard it before, however in your current state of alarm you couldn’t recall exactly which one of your father’s guards it belonged to.

Your eyes remained fixed on Chan, who responded by bravely stepping out through the doors with raised hands. He took a few tentative steps forward, positioning himself directly beside Felix in a subtle attempt to further shield your face from the guards.

When Chan addressed them, his voice was surprising steady. “We don't want any trouble, we’re just trying to survive.”

“You’re fugitives. You’ve already caused enough trouble,” the guard snarled in response.

You pressed your forehead to Felix's back, clutching his jacket as you wrestled with the conflicting thoughts in your head. Maybe, you thought, maybe if you revealed your identity and offered yourself up in exchange, they would let the boys go. But it was a fleeting thought, because deep down you knew they wouldn’t.

They wouldn’t.

And the understanding that you were completely and utterly helpless was enough to bring tears to your eyes. But it was nothing in comparison to what you felt when you registered the shuffling sound of approaching footsteps.

Your pulse quickened as Felix shifted, straightening his posture and positioning himself closer to you.

“Wait-” Chan's voice rang out with urgency as he tried to take a step forward, only to be shoved aside by the barrel of a gun held by an unseen guard.

And then, without warning, Felix was suddenly wrenched from your grasp in a heart-stopping display of brutality.

The guard that seized him spun him around violently, and panic rose hot in your throat when his hand pressed down on Felix's head, driving him to his knees.

Without turning around, Chan motioned frantically for Minho and Hyunjin to lower their guns.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a bargaining chip," the guard taunted. His comrades snickered around him as he raised his gun and pressed the barrel against the back of Felix's head, tapping it a few times before resting it still.

Felix winced as he glanced up from his position on the ground. His eyes immediately found their way to yours, and the shimmering emotion in them hit you like a devastating blow.

"P-please, don't," you choked out, completely ignoring the fact that—aside from your hood—your face was almost entirely exposed. But your plea fell on deaf ears as the guard failed to acknowledge you. His index finger dropped to hover over the trigger, a sadistic smirk spread across his lips, and your stomach churned violently in response.

Felix was going to die.

The freckled boy with the stars in his eyes was going to die, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Well, maybe one thing.

Your trembling hands moved of their own accord, lifting to meet the thin fabric of your hood. A surge of alarm coursed through your veins when a second guard's voice rang out, "You there, freeze!"

Felix's expression dropped, pleading with you through the silent connection of your eyes to reconsider.

Chan didn't utter a single word, but you felt him tense beside you.

You tuned them all out.

With a shaky breath, a heavy heart, and all but one of the guards' guns now pointed in your direction, you lowered your hood. And in the fleeting moment before your face was fully revealed, you mouthed the words "I'm sorry" to Felix, hoping he would find some way to understand.

Hushed murmurs rose around you, filling the air. The guard who held Felix hesitated as he studied your face. His gaze was firm, eyes unblinking, as he traced along your features. His expression gradually shifted from uncertainty to recognition. And he smiled. He smiled—a sinister curl of his lips. Because he knew that by dragging you back to your father, he would secure a life of unimaginable wealth and resources—far beyond what anyone in the outer districts could ever imagine.

The instant your eyes met, a wave of recognition surged within you as well. Because although you'd never bothered to learn his name, his face, along with the devilish glint in his eyes, had been imprinted into your memory ever since the night of the raid. When he had whisked you away from the grand hall, separating you from Felix then, too.

The guard opened his mouth to speak and you instinctively reached for the knife in your waistband, bracing yourself for whatever was to come. But you would never get to know the words that fell from his lips, as his voice was instantly swallowed by the deafening crack of a gunshot that ripped through the air.

The guard beside him was struck, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

“What the-"

Whoever said it, you couldn’t be sure.

You ducked down, instincts urging you to seek cover as a shower of bullets began to flood the air. When you lifted your head, you witnessed Felix waste no time in engaging the guard in a desperate struggle for control of the gun. You shifted, driven by the desire to help him, but it was almost as if he had anticipated your thoughts when he called out for you to “stay down, y/n!”

Crouched on the ground with your hands above your head, you watched in awe as he overpowered the guard with surprising skill—moving with a fluidity that told you he had done this countless times before. As soon as he gained control of the weapon, Felix used the blunt end to deliver a blow straight to the guard's chest, sending him tumbling to the ground. He cocked the gun with a polished flick of his wrist, and the fallen guard raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

With a single, split-second glance back to you, Felix turned and pointed it at the man’s head with chilling certainty.

And you looked away, burying your face in your hands, when he pulled the trigger.

The next think you knew, the next thing you remembered, Felix was at your side—arms encircling your upper body, a warm hand on the back of your neck. And although you thought you might have heard his voice reach out to you, thought maybe your name had fallen from his lips, it was impossible to make sense of anything over the ringing in your ears.

Summoning the courage to peer through your fingers, you finally gained the opportunity to grasp hold of the situation as it played out before you.

Your eyes fell upon three figures, each armed with heavy weapons of their own, atop three stocky animals. Their presence suggested that the initial gunfire hadn’t come from any of the guards or the boys. And your jaw dropped when you glimpsed a flash of red hair.

Yeonjun.

It was Yeonjun, flanked by two unfamiliar individuals that you could only assume to be more of Hira’s people, seeking revenge for their fallen leader.

Their arrival had thrown the entire situation into an unexpected twist, offering momentary relief for you and the boys. But the relief was short lived, because although Yeonjun and the others had secured the element of surprise, they too faced the critical disadvantage of being outnumbered.

Huddled over you, Felix let out a gasp as his own eyes locked with Yeonjuns.

"Get out of here, Felix!" Yeonjun's strained voice pierced through the chaos.

Felix froze in disbelief, visibly astonished.

You tugged on his sleeve, but he remained motionless. You tried to speak, but no words came out. Time seemed to grind to a halt, and for a moment, it was as if it would never start again.

Until Chan's strong grip took hold of your arm.

"Come on!" he urged, determination filling his eyes as he pulled you with him. Felix, still dazed, stumbled to his feet beside you, and the three of you sprinted into the building, heartbeats pounding in rhythm with your steps.

Even after you'd made it inside, Felix's reluctance to leave Yeonjun behind was evident. You broke free from Chan's grasp when you noticed that he had come to a stop behind you. "Felix, we need to go," you pleaded as you rushed over to him, grabbing his hand to try and pull him with you.

"It's okay," you continued. But it wasn't.

"They'll be alright," you added. But they wouldn't.

"Please, Felix," you implored, "I need you." And it wasn't until your trembling voice cracked with raw emotion on the final word that Felix finally yielded to your insistent tugging.

As soon as he gave way, your feet were in motion again. Together, you hurried through the building and emerged on the other side where your vehicles awaited. And you didn't even remember climbing onto the bike, but suddenly you were there, clinging to Felix for dear life as he revved the engine. With one last glance—first in the direction you had come, then down to you—he gritted his teeth and followed Chan’s lead.

As vehicles accelerated and sped off, your thoughts remained with Yeonjun and the others you had left behind. Fear transformed into guilt, a resounding guilt, that settled deep within your bones, intensifying further with every gunshot that pierced the night behind you.

You willed your eyes to remain open, determined to keep the trailing rover in your vision.

As the abandoned city dissolved into another terrifying nightmare, the memory of the first night you’d spent on the bike with Felix tugged at your heart. It left behind an ache that had you feeling like the foolish girl your father had called you once. Because that’s what you were—foolish, for allowing your feelings for Felix to develop in the way that they had.

Tonight’s close call had ripped away any illusion of control you thought you might’ve you had over your own emotions. If things had taken a different turn, if the guard had so much as twitched his ready finger and his loaded gun had fired against the back of Felix's head, would you have been able to deal with the aftermath? If you had lost Felix would you have been able to cope with the weight of his absence? To live with yourself after?

And what did it mean if you couldn’t?

You’d watched him shoot a man with raised hands tonight, and it should have frightened you—the ease with which he’d aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger. It was a stark reminder of the darkness that existed within him, but when his eyes met yours in that split second before he’d done it, they held an unmistakable air that his actions had been driven by a need to protect you. To protect you, and the rest of the boys, and so it only made you cling to him tighter. Because Felix didn’t need words to express that he was driven by a commitment to do whatever it took to ensure the safety of those he cared for—which you were now more than certain included yourself, too. A realization that left you torn between the undeniable feelings you had developed for him and the fear that you had crossed a line you were never meant to cross.

You couldn't escape the magnetic pull of his presence, yet you were acutely aware of the reality that hung over your heads. The circumstances, the world you inhabited, it was all designed to keep you apart. You knew it. He knew it. And not only did it force you to confront the painful truth that your relationship with Felix could never progress beyond its current state, it had you questioning whether or not your paths were even meant to cross in the first place.

It was an overwhelming thought, one that brought tears to your eyes for the second time that night.

When the first signs of dawn began to streak the sky above, Felix released his steady grip on the throttle. Chan caught up, and a signal passed between the two, prompting them to pull over nearby.

As the boys scrambled out of the vehicle, you caught sight of their expressions filled with shock and disbelief as they grappled with the weight of the close call. Chan raked his hands through his hair after his feet landed on the hard earth. “Too close, too fucking close,” he muttered, his words mirroring the thoughts in all of your minds.

Jisung dropped to the ground, Changbin tilted his head to the sky, Hyunjin leaned wearily against the rover, and Jeongin remained seated inside—gripping onto Seungmin as Minho examined his injured foot.

You stepped down from the motorcycle on unsteady legs, a residual effect of the adrenaline that had coursed through your veins during the escape. Felix dropped the bike with a loud thud, startling you when he spun around and placed his hands firmly on both of your shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Fuck, are you okay?” his words tumbled out in a rush, eyes darting up and down your figure.

You nodded frantically as your trembling hands peeled back the edges of his jacket to check for signs of injury. “Did you..A-Are you…” your voice shook, rendered speechless by the violent rush of emotions inside you.

When Felix spoke again it was barely above a whisper. “I’m okay," he reassured you, taking gentle hold of your hands to guide them away from his body. You searched your palms for any signs of blood but they were clean—they were clean, and yet the compulsion to keep checking for hidden wounds persisted.

“-Princess. I’m okay,” he repeated. And your actions drew the attention of the others but you paid no mind. As if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, you were suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to tell Felix everything that had been gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. Starting with the fact that you would have thrown away any chance at saving the world tonight in order to keep him safe. Because nothing in your life had made sense before Felix. And you were certain that if the world were to take him from you now, your spirit would turn restless inside your bones—cursed to wander forever in search of what you had lost.

“-What the fuck happened back there?!” your thoughts were interrupted by Chan, his voice yanking you back from the edge of vulnerability you were about to tumble over. “Hira wouldn’t have turned us in to those guards, I know she wouldn’t have,” he added, brows knitting together as he wrestled with his desire to comfort Jeongin and his responsibility to discover the truth about what had just taken place.

Felix swung his gaze around to meet Chan's. “Hira is dead,” he stated flatly. “And you’re right, she isn’t the one who turned us in. It was...Yeonjun," he gulped, hesitating at the mention of the orange-haired boy.

“What?” Chan stammered. “H-how...and Yeonjun? He saved our asses back there. Why would he do that if.."

Guilt.

Although he did not say it out loud, Felix was certain it was the reason. Because he saw it there tonight, unmistakably present in Yeonjun's eyes. And Felix knew all too well that, for some, the mere thought of a lifetime plagued by guilt after making the wrong decision could be far more terrifying than death itself.

“They shot Hira, before we even made it outside,” Hyunjin chimed in. “I just can't wrap my head around how Yeonjun managed to double-cross us. It makes no sense. He was with us the entire time.”

“-Until we went to sleep,” Changbin interjected. And the group fell silent. A thick, uncomfortable silence, broken only by soft muttering from Minho’s direction as he tended to Jeongin’s foot.

“So what, you think Yeonjun left to track down those guards after we went to sleep?” Jisung stood, joining the conversation. "How would he have known they were out there? We never told him we were running from them."

Chan's focus sharpened as he considered Jisung's words. “Felix..” he started, his tone cautious. “After we were separated from you and Hyunjin, how long was it before Yeonjun found you?”

"I dont know, maybe an hour?" Felix replied.

“What if Yeonjun came across the guards during that time?" Chan's voice was steady as he held the group's attention. "What if after Yeonjun left us with Hira, he was confronted by the guards? What if they threatened him and coerced him into admitting that he had seen us and knew where we were headed? Then they released him to find you two. He eventually brought you back to Clé, and they tracked his movement, waiting until nightfall to-”

"-Wait a minute,” Hyunjin asserted. “Now that I think about it, Yeonjun was acting a bit strangely on the way to Cle. And maybe you would’ve realized it too, Felix, if you weren't so preoccupied with.." as he trailed off, Hyunjin's dark eyes met with yours, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He looked as if he had more to say, but before he could continue, he was interrupted by a sharp cry of pain from Jeongin.

The boys immediately abandoned the conversation, rushing to the side of the vehicle. You shifted on your feet, hesitating to join them because on some level, even after everything that had happened tonight, you still felt like an outsider.

Sensing your reluctance, Felix turned and met your eyes with a wordless invitation that urged you to come closer. Drawn by the invisible thread that seemed to connect the two of you, you positioned yourself between him and Jisung. As you stood between them, you couldn't help but notice how Felix shifted just a fraction closer to you. And although he kept his focus on Jeongin, you soon felt the gentle pressure of his shoulder against yours.

Inside the vehicle, Minho's inner conflict played out across his features. His gaze shifted rapidly between Jeongin's pale face and the sliver of glass firmly lodged in the sole of his shoe. “I can't just leave it embedded,” he voiced his concern aloud, directed at no one in particular. "It could lead to infection..I just can’t tell how deep its gone..”

Seungmin’s expression grew more strained as Jeongin squirmed uncomfortably in his arms. “What if you make it worse by trying to take it out?”

“We don’t really have a choice,” Minho responded, his medical instincts wrestling with the reality of your limited resources.

Chan’s fingers tapped an anxious rhythm against the side of the vehicle. "We should at least try to sterilize the area to buy us some time."

“Time for what? Everything we have is here,” Minho snapped, whipping around to face Chan as he gestured to the surrounding bags of supplies.

Next to Chan, Hyunjin's expression furrowed as he glanced from Minho to Jeongin. “We aren't that far from Yellow Wood. We could go back, let it heal, and try again for Miroh when-”

“-If we sit still for too long now, they'll find us,” Minho stressed. “Besides, if we can actually make it to Miroh there might be medical supplies there that aren’t shit. But getting there will take days, and we can’t afford to leave it untreated for that long,” he added.

“T-take it out,” Jeongin whimpered, "Please, I can handle it." His gaze shifted across the faces of each of the boys, his trust in them evident even despite his pain. And when his eyes landed on you, your chest ached with the realization that he looked at you in the exact same way, with the same level of trust.

Chan leaned into the rover, placing his hand gently on Jeongin's shoulder where he offered a reassuring squeeze. "We're going to take care of you, okay? Just hang in there." His gaze shifted to Minho and a wordless exchange passed between them as the rest of the group shifted even closer, forming a tight circle around the vehicle.

As the boys began to offer their own words of encouragement, Minho glanced up, his piercing eyes locking hold of yours. “You. You have some medical training right?”

“Dude she has a name..” Jisung grumbled from beside you.

Minho shot him an irritated glance, clearing his throat before addressing you again. “y/n,” he pronounced your name with a sour undertone, as if it left an unpleasant taste on his tongue. "Do you or do you not have any medical training?”

He wasn't wrong to assume you would, given your background. Your father had always prioritized combat skills over healing, but you'd been given a fair share of private medical lessons too. And even if it was a limited amount, your knowledge of the subject undoubtedly surpassed that of any of the other boys.

Eager to help Jeongin in any way you could, you nodded. Minho motioned for you to join him inside the vehicle, and the protective glare that Felix shot his way gave you a much needed boost of confidence as you sat down beside him.

Minho gave you a brief rundown of what he needed, his instructions clear and concise. In preparation, he handed Jeongin something to bite down on. And as he began, you couldn't help but admire the way his practiced hands moved.

As the wound became more apparent, you felt a slight twinge of unease. The quantity of blood was surprising, but upon closer inspection, you were relieved to find that the glass hadn't gone nearly as deep as you'd anticipated.

Jeongin's face contorted in pain as it was carefully extracted from the thin sole of his shoe and, subsequently, his foot. You worked in tandem with Minho, assisting with whatever you could, and the collective breath held by the group seemed to release in sync with the shard's removal. Minho held it up, allowing it to shimmer in the morning light before setting it aside.

As he moved on to stitch up the wound, the process felt excruciatingly slow. Your attention shifted back to Jeongin, cradled securely in Seungmin's hold, and you couldn't help but notice the way his hands clenched and unclenched against the seat beneath him. Without thinking, you reached to take the hand that was closest to you. His fingers relaxed as they laced with yours, and you could feel the warmth of his gratitude when he briefly opened his eyes to meet your own.

When you glanced up to Seungmin, he gave you a soft nod of approval over Jeongin’s shoulder.

After Minho had finished stitching the wound, the boys' attention gradually began to shift toward their next steps, driven by a shared sense of relief now that Jeongin's discomfort had been temporarily eased.

You remained fully absorbed in helping Minho clean up—so focused that you barely caught the murmured "thank you," that came from where he sat beside you. You paused, convinced you hadn’t heard him correctly, until he added in a slightly louder tone, "You have a steady hand, y/n. You'd make a good medic."

Taken aback by his sudden appreciation, your eyes followed him as he stood. "Anybody seen any water?" he asked, scanning the vehicle's interior. Changbin handed him a canteen, which he promptly passed over to Jeongin.

After ensuring that Jeongin was as comfortable as possible, with the unexpected compliment from Minho still ringing in your ears, you stepped down from the rover.

Your eyes immediately found Felix, leaned against the vehicle with a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. He took a step, but before he could close the distance between you, Jisung was at your side. “Nicely done, District nine. I knew you’d come in handy,” he grinned, giving you a solid pat to the back.

And then it was Chan’s turn to steal your attention. "y/n can you come look at this?" You swiveled around and he motioned for you to join him and Changbin where they had the map spread out across the hood of the rover.

When you turned back to Felix you found Hyunjin at his side, effectively blocking your view. With a small, resigned exhale through your nose, you made your way over to stand beside Changbin.

Chan asked for your help in determining the best route to take to get back on track—where your father’s guards would be less likely to follow. After thorough examination of the map, and a collaborative discussion between the three of you—with the occasional interjection from Minho—you reached a consensus.

After what had happened last night, crossing into more challenging terrain was deemed well worth the risk by all of you. And so the decision to alter your route was unanimous. You would head in the direction of a mountainous region that spanned across District 5, as it would make tracking your movements far more difficult.

With a plan in place, you glanced back at the motorcycle where Felix was now seated, tying his hair back.

He looked up as you approached. "You sure you don't want to go with them instead?” he asked, nudging his head in the direction of the rover. “You can sleep in the truck," he added.

You ignored his suggestion, making your choice known when you swung a leg over the bike and settled down behind him. You drew him closer, gently wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m not tired, and i don’t plan on going anywhere,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

"But-" Felix began to protest. He turned to face you, but the words caught in his throat when you leaned in at the same time—your closeness catching him off guard.

“Just drive, Lix.” Your voice was soft, a murmured exhale against his lips. And you looked up to meet his eyes before pulling back to settle into his form.

A pink blush crept up to his ears as he twisted around, glancing over his other shoulder to where the boys had piled into the rover a few feet away. “Yeah, right.." he stammered, eyes following the rover when it took off from your side, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. And a faint smile crossed your lips as Felix cleared his throat before manipulating the throttle and setting the bike into motion once again.

After several hours of uninterrupted travel, muted rays of buttery light filtered in through the clouds above as the sun began to set. The ground beneath you was etched with crevices and jutting stones, creating a labyrinth of rocky terrain that stretched on endlessly.

In the dying light, you found yourselves in search of shelter once again. Not necessarily because you couldn't keep moving at night—if anything you thought it would be smarter to travel under the cover of darkness—but every single one of you was beyond exhausted, and it showed.

It showed in the subtle swerve of the motorcycle when Felix's head dipped, snapping back up when you called his name. It showed in each set of drooping shoulders and even in the gradual slow of the vehicles, as if they too were struggling to keep up the pace.

On that particular evening, luck seemed to be on your side when you came upon a cave nestled snugly between a cluster of natural rock formations. With the vehicles secured just outside the entrance, the group collectively made their way inside.

Upon entering the cave, you were greeted by a cool, refreshing environment, a stark contrast to the toxic haze that loomed over District 6. Flashlights flickered on one-by-one, casting their light upon the walls to reveal a spacious chamber. Felix and Chan immediately set about the task of creating a fire and it wasn't long before the flames began to dance and crackle before their eyes. At the other end of the space, the uneven ground converged into a single pathway that drew your attention and you watched as Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jisung gravitated toward it.

Beckoned by your own curiosity, you glanced back to Chan who shot you an inquisitive look before tossing you his flashlight. "Don't go too far, yeah?" he cautioned, and you nodded in agreement.

Trailing the boys, you sensed the familiar weight of a pair of eyes on your back, following your every move until you slipped out of sight.

The narrow passage came alive with rhythmic footsteps and the occasional murmur from up ahead, mostly Jisung. The sound of trickling water drew your attention and around the corner, a sudden widening revealed an open area where the rocky floor dipped down into a large basin, filled with crystal-clear water. It was a miniature oasis of sorts, a natural spring lit by glowing blue bioluminescence that lie nestled within the depths of the cave. The water's surface sparkled beneath a crevice in the ceiling through which you could see the moon.

The boys rushed forward, cupping their hands to sip the cool water, splashing it across their faces and arms. When you bent down to fill a canteen from your backpack, you were caught off guard by the sudden sight of your reflection in the water’s rippling surface.

A layered film of dirt and sweat clung to your skin, deep shadows had formed underneath your sunken eyes, and your once-tamed hair was now in complete disarray. It would have been a harrowing sight for anyone from District 9 to see themselves in such a state, and yet, oddly enough, you liked the way you looked like this. A raw version of your former polished self, without the vibrant makeup and suffocating clothing that had always left your skin feeling itchy and irritated. Stripped of the insincere smile you had been forced to wear throughout your life, you looked like you. A bit worn out, sure. But you embraced it wholeheartedly because it was the first time you truly felt as if you belonged among the boys.

As your eyes swept back and forth, another presence began to emerge from your appearance—your father. Subtly etched into the lines of your face, the shape of your nose, the color of your eyes—almost as if your own features were mocking your attempts to distance yourself from him. Because he was there, and he always would be. You could run from him as much as you liked, forever even, but you would never be able to escape your own reflection.

When the boys stood, you did the same, gaze lingering on the water's surface for a last second. Turning to leave, you were surprised to find Jisung waiting a short distance away. The blue tint cast a beautiful glow against his face, accentuating the gentle curve of his cheeks and the warmth in his eyes. The metal piercing in his eyebrow glinted in the faint light. "We can stay a bit longer, if you'd like," he offered.

There was an attractive sincerity about Jisung that had always intrigued you, but your eagerness to leave behind your reflection overpowered the allure. With a subtle shake of your head, you let out a small “’s okay," followed by a tender smile which he returned.

You moved at a slow pace, shoulder to shoulder, guided by the light from your flashlights as you winded back through the passage. Jisung kicked a pebble, and your eyes followed its movement. After a subtle clearing of his throat, he eventually broke the silence. "It was really cool, what you did for Jeongin earlier.”

You shrugged, inadvertently meeting his eyes. "I didn't do much...just followed what Minho told me."

Jisung responded without hesitation. "Yeah, but I know it means a lot to Jeongin. And to Minho, to finally have someone who knows what they’re doing that can help him."

"Does it? Because I think he kind of hates me.." your brows knitted together, and a gentle smile tugged at Jisung's lips.

"Minho doesn't hate you, he's just cautious," he said, returning his gaze back to the path ahead. “And I know he might come off as distant, but there's more to him beneath the surface."

Beneath the surface.

You were no stranger to what lay beneath that surface. Because your connection to Minho existed whether either of you wanted it to or not, born from the shared roots of District 9. And along with it came a shared understanding of a part of the world that, out of the nine of you, only you two could truly comprehend.

“Just give him some time, he’ll come around,” Jisung continued, accompanied by a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks, Ji. I really hope you're right.”

As soon as the nickname escaped your lips, Jisung’s expression dropped. A range emotions crossed his features. His eyes held yours for a moment, and within them you detected profound longing, tinged with traces of sorrow and grief. Unspoken, but undeniably present.

"Ji," he chuckled softly, a sad sound. "No one's called me that in a really long time."

"Well it suits you," you offered, scanning his face.

His eyes took on a glossy sheen, and his lips curled up into something bittersweet. "Yeah, I guess it does," he replied. After a moment, he blinked away the emotion and shifted the conversation. “So..want to tell me what the hell's been going on between you and Felix?"

Your foot caught suddenly on a rock, and you reached out instinctively for Jisung to steady yourself as heat flooded your cheeks. "I-uh..what about us?" Your gaze nervously darted away as you stumbled over your words.

A wistful grin tugged at the corner of Jisung’s lips. "Come on, I'm not blind. I've noticed things, you know? Subtle glances..the way he looks at you."

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you questioned, recalling when Chan had told you the very same thing in the forest outside of Yellow Wood.

I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Never. Not anyone.

Jisung chuckled lightly in response. "Well, usually when everyone notices the same thing, it means there's some truth to it," he mused.

"Or maybe everyone's just reading too much into it."

"Whatever you say," Jisung shrugged. "I guess we’re just not used to Felix looking at anyone in a way that doesn't suggest he wants them dead. Usually he's..Well by now I'm sure you know how he is."

"Yeah," you affirmed, "I know how he is. The second time we ever spoke was while he had a knife pressed to my throat."

“He what?"

"Long story," you said. Although, in reality, the story was actually quite simple. And you'd never held it against Felix. After all, what else was he supposed to do when he'd come face to face with the daughter of the man who wanted nothing more than to see all of them dead.

"That reminds me," Jisung started, twisting the flashlight around in his hand. "I always wondered how you guys met.”

"He didn't tell you?"

Jisung shook his head vigorously in response. "Let's just say every time one of us would bring it up he'd turn bright red and shut down the conversation immediately, usually by fleeing to the rooftop."

You laughed at the mental image of Felix escaping in embarrassment whenever the topic of your first meeting was raised. "I guess it is a bit complicated.”

"You know..someone told me once that sometimes things are complicated because we're afraid of what's simple," Jisung replied.

You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you considered his words. A comfortable silence settled between you, and you didn’t feel the need to respond.

The conversation concluded as you returned to camp. Felix looked up immediately upon your arrival, his eyes briefly meeting yours before glancing away. "See what I mean?"Jisung leaned over to whisper into your ear. A knowing smile tugged at his lips, and he winked at you before his steps carried him away from your side.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you walked over to Jeongin and offered him the canteen you had filled with water from the spring. His face brightened, although the weariness remained etched into his features. After taking a few generous gulps, he returned the canteen and nestled closer to Minho's side. The older boy's presence seemed to provide him with a sense of security as his eyelids drooped and he drifted off to sleep.

Across the fire, the rest of the boys rummaged through a sizable bag of supplies in search of anything to alleviate their hunger for the night. You found a quiet spot to claim for yourself. Sinking down against the cavern wall, you brought your legs upward as hushed chatter began to fill the chamber.

Felix couldn't help but steal a few glances in your direction as he tended to the fire. A sharp pang of jealousy resonated throughout him when he watched the way your eyes followed Jisung's reaction to something Changbin said, a wide smile forming on your lips in response to his infectious laughter. Felix didn't need to wonder what you thought of Jisung. Of course you liked him, it was impossible not to. And he couldn't even blame you for it because it was only natural that someone like you would be drawn to someone like Jisung.

After the group had eaten and settled in around the fire, Chan took the opportunity to share his first memory of Hira. He depicted her as a neutral force—neither entirely good nor entirely corrupt—but someone whom, for whatever reason, he'd always felt that he could trust.

When he'd finished, Chan passed the conversation to Jisung who proceeded to share a story about a mishap he and Seungmin encountered last winter, during a supply run in the same abandoned city you'd crossed through last night. The story involved a ridiculous chase through the streets, with Jisung somehow ending up as the hero. But Seungmin couldn't resist chiming in. "Hold on, hold on," he raised a hand with a sly grin, "Let's be real, less than half of that actually happened.”

Jisung responded with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, a playful retort forming on his lips as he prepared to continue the banter. Before he could, Felix chimed in. "Making things up again, Han? This sounds a lot like the time we all found out you can't actually tell edible plants from poisonous ones,” he teased. His eyes shimmered in the firelight, and when he smirked you couldn't help but appreciate the way it accentuated his canines.

Jisung let out an exasperated gasp. "I told you I was still learning!”

"I threw up for a week straight after you insisted it was safe to eat those purple berries! I thought I was going to die!" Seungmin exclaimed, failing to control his laughter.

Jisung threw his hands up in defeat. “Who even needs to know which plants are safe to eat when you can just charm your way into getting free supplies?" A sly grin fell across his lips but it vanished when Changbin added, “That only happened once, and wasn't it Hyunjin that actually did the talking? Pretty sure you just stared at your feet the whole time because you couldn't even make eye contact with the girl.”

Changbin’s response elicited chuckles from the entire room, yourself included. With a dramatic huff, Jisung turned and lie down on his side with his back to the group. He feigned annoyance, but was unable to hide his own amusement as his shoulders shook with gentle laughter.

After the excitement died down, Minho's soft-spoken voice broke the silence. He recalled a late night conversation with Jeongin not too long ago that had unexpectedly evolved into a heart-to-heart about their shared fears. When he was finished, he glanced down in fondness at the sleeping boy nestled against his side.

You leaned your head against the rock, allowing your eyes to close as Hyunjin began to share about a distant memory that involved his mother, with whom he'd spent some time in a cave like the one you found yourselves in now—before they had gotten separated. As he spoke, you tried your hardest to recall just one single memory of your own mother, but you were unable to move past a particular phrase that continued to linger in your thoughts.

You look just like her.

And then it hit you. A sudden blow, like a dagger straight to the heart.

What if Hira hadn't been speaking in general terms, about a woman from her past that you resembled.

What if she had been referring to your mother.

Your eyes snapped open and your posture straightened away from the wall as you tried to put it all together in your mind. You'd stopped asking questions about your mother a very long time ago, due to the anger that rose within your father at the faintest mention of her. He refused to speak about her, and so you had created a simplified narrative of your own—that she had been plucked from the residents of District 9 to marry your father for her social standing and wealth. But what if there was more to her, and your own origins, than you had ever thought possible.

Felix, who had been lying with his hands behind his head a short distance away, picked up on the change in your demeanor. Concern flickered in his eyes as he sat up.

"Hey, you good?" Chan's voice echoed from across the room as you realized that the rest of the group had fallen silent, their attention now fixed on you.

You managed a soft smile in an attempt to mask the intensity of your thoughts. "Yeah..just tired."

"Maybe its time we all get some rest," Chan responded.

As his suggestion was met with a general consensus of agreement from the group you cast a glance back at Felix. The fire's dwindling glow traced his features with delicate strokes, accentuating the furrow between his brow and the subtle tension in his jaw, before the flames were extinguished by Chan.

Ten minutes, twenty, an hour.

You tossed and turned repeatedly as restlessness consumed your mind, preventing you from succumbing to the fatigue that gripped your aching muscles. When soft snores began to fill the darkness, envy stirred within you at the boys' ability to find solace.

Maybe they were just desensitized to it all—the constant brushes with death, the daily ritual of having to bury their fears again each morning when they woke. Maybe with time you would grow used to it too. But tonight, the weight of it all, combined with the mystery surrounding Hira's final message had left you without any chance at falling asleep.

And although you didn't want to admit it, the notion slowly crept into your mind that the only reason you had gotten any sleep at all the past few nights was because of Felix. Especially last night—his steady heartbeat, protective embrace, and the comforting warmth of his body heat lulling you into a sense of security.

Maybe he wouldn't notice if you inched a bit closer..Just so you could manage a few hours..

A frustrated sound escaped your lips as you banished the thought, because it wasn’t fair to rely on Felix to chase away the darkness when you couldn't bear to face it alone. He had his own battles to fight, his own burdens to carry, and if he was going to drive the motorcycle then he probably needed the sleep more than you anyway.

Your eyes failed to adjust to the darkness when you sat up. Cut off from any sense of place and time, the air around you suddenly felt so thin, so scarce, making it difficult to draw in a steady breath. Your skin prickled as if tiny insects had begun to dig their way into your flesh, and you couldn't get it out of your head.

All of it.

Your mother, nothing but the faded memory of a woman with a face you hadn't known long enough to remember. Your father, with a face you would never forget, because it chased you in your own reflection. Hira's lifeless stare, empty and cold. The knowing look in Yeonjun's eyes when you left him behind to die. And Felix, who, even with a loaded gun pressed against his head looked to you as if your safety would always be far more important to him than his own.

“It gets easier with time."

You jolted, startled by a sudden voice that broke the silence.

“Falling asleep, I mean. It gets easier with time,” he repeated. His tone a calm and steady contrast to the turmoil in your mind.

"Then why are you still awake?" you remarked, lowering your voice to a whisper to keep from disturbing the sleeping boys around you.

Felix let out a soft sigh. His gentle breath mingled with the darkness that enveloped you both, and you sensed movement as he sat up somewhere close by.

“I didn’t say it gets easy, just easier. Besides..” he paused, a long pause. Hoping you wouldn’t be able to sense the struggle he faced to keep his emotions in check. "How am i supposed to sleep when you're breathing so heavily…it's distracting," he finally settled on. And you couldn't help but scoff at his feeble attempt at masking whatever it was that he actually wanted to say.

As the silence stretched on, the uncomfortable sensation of needing to escape your own skin grew unbearable, driving you to your feet.

"Where are you-"

"-The dirt, the sweat, the blood, I need to get it off. I just need to get it off." Without waiting for a response, you fumbled through the darkness. Your fingers met the coarse stone wall at your side, and you trailed along it as soft footsteps began to echo from somewhere behind you.

Cool mist fell against your skin as pitch-black was steadily replaced by calming blue. In the soft ethereal glow, you stepped over to the waters edge where you lifted your shirt and slipped out of your pants. All the while, your senses were acutely aware of Felix's presence behind you, his watchful eyes glued to your backside. He could have chosen to let you wander off alone, but some part of you knew he couldn't resist. And selfishly, you liked that.

When you entered the water it rippled around your waist. The coldness sent shivers throughout your body, but it was invigorating. A welcome sensation against skin that seemed to burn tonight. You took a deep breath, letting the weight of the past twenty four hours wash away when you submerged yourself beneath the surface. The water welcomed you into a desensitizing embrace and for a moment, only as long as you could hold your breath, the unpleasant images in your mind and your fears surrounding the war outside were replaced by complete and utter silence. Nothing at all.

You resurfaced facing Felix. His eyes trailed up and down your half naked form, lingering a bit too long on the places his hands always went first. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized that he was approaching. When he lifted his shirt, you couldn't help but take the opportunity to glance over the contours of his sculpted abdomen. He let himself down into the water and the soft splashes of his movements filled the silence between you.

“Maybe you should just…stay over there," you mumbled, averting your gaze from his chest.

You wanted him close, that you couldn't deny. But hours had passed since last night, and your panic had since died down—giving way to frustration once more. And it wasn't even about him nearly losing his life, it was about how that near-loss had stirred a depth of emotion within you that you could no longer control. You were frustrated with him for almost getting killed again, something that (this time) he'd had absolutely no control over. But you were even more frustrated with yourself for letting it affect you in the way that it had.

Felix raised his hands defensively, abiding by your demand to keep some distance. When he sank down into the water, the tips of his hair skimmed the surface.

"Princess..you alright?" his sudden inquiry caught you off guard. It was his tone, laced with genuine concern, that caused your heart to pound beneath the surface of your calm exterior.

No, I'm not alright.

Nothing about what happened last night is alright, you thought.

"Yeah, I'm managing," you said.

His lips curved upward, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Managing, huh? Guess you’re tougher than you look."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your own features when you responded. “And you? What about you?"

"I've been through worse,” he trailed off. A veil of shadows fell over his features and suddenly, Felix felt miles away. Worlds apart, as if he had been transported to some distant realm of memories that he would have given anything to forget.

“Chan told me a little..what you’ve been through is more than most people could handle, you know?” you hesitated, questioning if it was the right decision to acknowledge your awareness of his past. But the divide between you had always felt easy to bridge in moments like this, when it was just the two of you. Sometimes leading you to forget that it had even existed at all.

"He shouldn't have said-"

"-But I'm glad he did," you interrupted. "And I might not understand it all but I do know know that none of it is your fault, Felix."

Felix let out a bitter scoff, a defensive edge to his tone when he responded. “You don't know anything,” his eyes flickered back to you, and in them you saw a glimpse of the pain he carried beneath. When you took a step forward he retreated with a single stroke of his arms in the water—a reflexive withdrawal.

And then he sighed heavily, noting the subtle trace of hurt in your expression at his retreat. "I'm sorry..it's just..thinking about it, talking about it, its not easy for me."

“It’s okay,” you offered, making a conscious effort to ignore the compulsion to reach out and wrap him in your arms. To reassure him over and over again that he didn’t deserve the things he had been through. To make it clear that, in your eyes, Felix would never be to blame for his past.

Felix cleared his throat, his desire to avoid the subject prompting him to redirect the conversation. “What was that earlier with you? Around the fire."

Unsure of how much to reveal, you hesitated again, mindlessly tracing shapes on the surface of the water. "I think..there might be the possibility of a connection between my mother..and..Hira.”

Felix's expression transformed as he scanned your face in bewilderment. “What? What kind of connection?"

“Hira said I looked just like 'her', Felix, and I don't know why but I can't shake the feeling that she was talking about my mother."

"You think Hira knew your mother?” his mouth fell open, he looked at you as though you had completely and utterly lost your mind, and you really couldn't blame him.

“You heard her, you saw the way she looked at me," you pressed.

“Look, princess,” he insisted, drawn closer when he noticed the trace of sadness in your eyes at the mention of your mother. “I know Chan talks about her like she was a saint, but the woman was a lunatic. She didn't have any idea what she was talking about half the time, so don’t overthink it. Hira dealt with people from the outer districts, and she never went to District nine herself. It’s impossible.”

"Yeah..you're probably right." Mimicking his earlier movement, you lowered yourself in the water until it enveloped your shoulders.

After a moment you drew in a breath. When you went to speak, Felix did the same. Your words collided in the narrow space between you, and he chuckled softly, a warm sound that filled your ears. “You first,” he said.

"Today was..” you paused to recollect your thoughts, pursing your lips in concentration.

“I know,” he sighed. “It was a close call. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Yes we do,” you asserted. “We should. I don’t know how any of you do this. Its like one minute everything’s fine and the next.." you let out a frustrated exhale before continuing, “And then they're just able to sleep like nothing happened?! Its like you’re all fearless.”

Felix's lips quirked into a small, sympathetic smile as he inched closer. “Fearless? Nah, its just survival, princess. You get used to it, you learn to move forward." His voice lowered before he added, "Even when you’re afraid.”

As you considered his words, you found yourself studying his eyes in search of a glimpse of his inner thoughts. Had Felix felt fear today when he was leading the chase from the guards? When Jeongin was injured? When the cold metal of the gun touched his skin?

“I wish I had that kind of strength,” you admitted.

“You’ve got your own kind of strength," he began. “You're here aren't you? And you had no problem revealing yourself to those guards last night. Why did you do that?"

You felt your cheeks warm as you looked down, gliding your hands through the water. "Isn't it obvious?" When he didn't respond, you sighed, glancing up to meet his eyes again. “I just thought that maybe it would buy all of you a chance at making it out of there alive."

"Exactly. And every single one of them recognizes that,” he stated, nudging his head in the direction of the passage that led back to the sleeping boys.

“But it still doesn't mean they trust me, right? Still doesn't guarantee that they ever will?" you returned, raising a single eyebrow.

Felix rolled his eyes, and when they reconnected with yours you held his stare, narrowing your gaze. "I shouldn't have said that," he muttered.

Felix was incredibly difficult to read, most of the time, but something about the sincerity in his tone and the pause in his speech made you believe that he really did regret what he’d said that night in Yellow Wood, about how the others might never trust you.

"No, you shouldn't have. But it’s okay." You shifted closer, and with the distance between you now almost nonexistent, even the atmosphere felt alive—charged with pulsing energy, as the water flowed like an electric current between you, prompting you to reach up and drape your arms around his neck.

As if your actions had given him permission, his own hands instantly found their way to your waist. Your legs lifted to wrap around him and the water responded with soothing ripples around your bodies.

With you in his arms, Felix stood. He waded backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the spring where he settled down against a makeshift seat embedded within the natural contours of the rock.

Straddling his waist, you brushed the hair from his neck and laid your head down in its place. Splaying a hand against his chest, you felt for the steady strength of his heartbeat beneath your palm. And you stayed like that for quite some time, drifting in and out of a light sleep as he traced idle shapes across your back.

After a while, your eyes fluttered open. “Lix?”

“Yeah?” his voice was a low murmur in your ear, soft and attentive.

“Promise me something?” you breathed.

Anything, he thought.

“What is it?” he said.

"Promise me you’ll try to be more careful from now on? Because..I don't think I could handle it..if..” you lifted your head from his shoulder as the words hung between you like a fragile, fragile thread. The confession was like a heated blade in your throat, searing it raw, and you let it burn. Because you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that followed, paralyzed once again by the weight of your unspoken feelings.

But you didn't need to say anything further, because to Felix, it was obvious what you were implying.

I need you.

Your words from last night echoed in his mind. He remembered how desperate you sounded, how you'd pulled him with you as if your life depended on it.

He searched your face in a desperate attempt to understand how someone like you could ever be so concerned with the safety of someone like him. And he wondered if it was because, perhaps, you still couldn't see it—the stains of the choices he had made, etched into his soul. He wondered if he had allowed himself to become too wrapped up in his own feelings, creating a version of himself in your eyes that was far more forgiving than the truth.

When silence between you grew, his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to speak.

In another life, one in which Felix saw himself differently, he would have promised to be by your side for as long as you wanted him there. He would’ve kissed you deeply, and he never would have let you go.

In another life, it might have been the moment Felix realized that he was meant to love you.

But in this life, in this harsh reality, a silent battle raged on inside Felix—torn between his selfish desire for you and the instincts that kept him alive. He knew he couldn't promise you a life without danger, and he certainly couldn't guarantee you his survival. But goddammit Felix wanted nothing more than to swear that he would do everything in his power to try and stay alive. For you.

Overwhelmed by his feelings, your close proximity, and the fact that last night he had been come closer to death than he had in a very long time, Felix surrendered to that powerful, selfish desire.

"Yeah-" the word caught in his throat, as if he was afraid of what came next. Cupping your face with one of his hands, he added, "I promise.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, embracing the warmth of his palm against your skin and the reassurance in his grip.

"Besides," you started. “You can’t leave me alone with them. I'm pretty sure Minho and Hyunjin would plot to kill me in my sleep or something.” A soft giggle escaped your lips, and Felix couldn't help the wide, toothy grin that spread across his face at your attempt to lighten the mood.

“Please, Jisung would never let them,” he returned. And your raised eyebrows prompted him to continue. "I'm serious, in fact Jisung would probably prefer to have you all to himself," he insisted. And then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Felix gave a sudden squeeze to your ass with both hands that caused your eyes to widen.

"Oh really? Is that so?" Your fingers lightly traced a pattern on his bare chest as he hummed in agreement. "I don't know..maybe I should ask him myself just to be sure. You think he'd like to join us?" With a teasing smirk, you released your hold on Felix, stepping back down into the water and turning to face the direction you'd come from. Cupping your hands around your mouth, you began to call out "JI-"

"-Shhhh," the water splashed when Felix lunged forward. His arms encircled you from behind, grazing the underside of your breasts as he captured you in a sudden embrace. And a squeal escaped your lips when he pulled you with him beneath the water's surface. Coming up for air, you retaliated with a splash that sent a wave of water in his direction. His laughter echoed off the walls, deep and genuine. It was a sound you hadn't heard before, and yet, it felt as if you had been craving it for a lifetime. Soft crinkles formed around his eyes, and you wove another precious memory of the freckled boy into your mind.

Felix shook the water from his hair before catching you again. Your arms naturally reclaimed their place around his neck, your legs came back up to wrap around his waist, and the water rippled around your shoulders.

As you held each others eyes, his amusement gradually gave way to a more thoughtful expression.

“You know," he began, "Jisung..he uh..lost someone once. I think that’s why he’s like that with you, I think you remind him of her."

His words carried solemn weight, offering a touch of insight into why Jisung had trusted you from the very beginning. And a simple “Oh” was all you could manage in response, your heart breaking at the thought of Jisung carrying such pain beneath his hopeful, kindhearted exterior.

“But he’s better now, he's come a long way since then, mostly thanks to Minho,” he added. His expression revealed the traces of another painful memory, before he willed it away.

With you still in his arms, Felix reclaimed his spot against the edge of the spring. Perched just above the water's surface with his back supported by the rock and his legs dipping into the soothing water.

And while you considered his disclosure about Jisung's past, you realized that you had never truly known loss. You had forgotten your mother—had no memories of her touch, her scent, the sound of her voice—and because you had never really known her it had been a relatively easy loss, if any ever was.

You had lost Jisoo, but it was a different kind of loss—a choice you had willingly made that you hoped you would come to forgive yourself for some today.

But the mere thought of being forced to lose the boy with the stars in his eyes was crippling. You couldn't bear the thought of those stars fading away, because he looked to you like you were the one that had put them there. And it terrified you that some day he would pay the ultimate price for it, leaving you behind to grapple with a new kind of loss that you weren't sure you would have the strength to overcome.

"What?" Felix said, catching the intensity in your eyes as your fingers reached to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

“You almost died today," you stated. "For real this time."

His expression furrowed, and a gentle crease appeared on his forehead before gradually easing away. "Well..yeah," he shrugged, "I'm still here, though."

Here. With you.

You shifted underneath his stare, trying to reach a more comfortable position. Your hands found their way to one of his, guiding it to rest in your lap where you played with his rings absentmindedly.

Sensing your restlessness, Felix gently ceased the movement of your hands when he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you blurted. “And I'm scared, Felix. I'm scared that I’m too weak to handle it. That its going to get all of you killed.”

Felix frowned slightly before drawing you closer. “We all have weaknesses, princess," his eyes fell briefly to your lips before continuing. “Chan wants to save the whole goddamned world, and he gets so wrapped up in it that he forgets to take care of himself, too. Han—Jisung, I mean, trusts too easily. And Minho doesn’t trust enough, even when he should. Changbin is reckless as hell, if you think I’m bad, you should've seen him when we first met. Jeongin doesn’t want to hurt anyone, so he hesitates in situations where it puts his life at risk. And Seungmin is too damn smart for his own good, and he knows it, so his confidence gets the best of him sometimes."

He shook his head and you brought a hand up to swipe the stray droplets of water that fell down onto his cheeks, fingertips mapping out the constellations painted underneath. He closed his eyes in response, tilting his head as he welcomed your touch.

A brief, heart-pounding silence hung between you before you dared to speak again. “What about you, Felix? What’s your weakness?”

The freckled boy tensed beneath you. His jaw clenched, and for a long time he held his silence. Just when you began to brace yourself for the possibility that he might not respond, his eyelids gently lifted. His hands rose to cup your face, one of his thumbs traced your upper lip, and in another life you would have stopped him from saying the words that followed.

“You, princess. My weakness is you.”

You blinked, opening your mouth just to close it again. When Felix leaned in closer, you turned your head, causing his lips to lightly graze along the side of your jaw. "I thought I'd already be dead, if it were up to you," you mumbled.

“I shouldn't have said that..either," he stated. And when he pulled back to meet your gaze, there was a familiar intensity in his eyes. Felix looked to you like he did every time he wanted to fuck you, but there was more behind it now.

"You did say it, though. You said it, and you meant it," you pressed.

But you were wrong.

And it was driving Felix insane.

Because he was well aware of the simple fact that he should have meant it. That it should have been easy for him to hate you. After all, he'd never had a problem directing his disdain toward the world and its inhabitants. But there was something that stopped him from casting that hatred upon you. No matter how hard he tried.

"I wanted to mean it," he breathed.

And it was on that night, sheltered deep within a cave on the outskirts of District 6, that you realized what the others had meant when they spoke about the way Felix looked at you. As his deep brown eyes bore into your soul, they spoke volumes about the complexity of his feelings, far more than words ever could. That night, your feelings intertwined with his, and you did nothing to stop it. Shared vulnerability bled into deep affection and for the first time you chose to overlook the danger that came with it.

“Its driving me crazy, pretending I’m okay every time you get hurt. You do realize that, right?” you exhaled, reaching for the fading red handprints on his neck. But Felix intercepted your hand before it could make contact with his skin. Bringing it up to his lips, he kissed it softly.

“I’m sorry," he leaned in to press another open kiss your shoulder. It was gentle, it felt good, so you let him.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his warm hands trailed up and down your back, chasing away the chill that had settled over your body, so you let them.

Felix knew he wasn’t good for you. He knew you deserved someone like Jisung, who would be able to bring out the best in you without even trying. Someone like Chan who you could grow with. Or Minho, who would challenge you to reach your full potential. But Felix was none of those things. Instead, he was selfish. Selfish, and pathetic, and cruel. And despite the fact that he knew it, despite the fact that he hated himself for it, he just couldn’t help the feeling he got every single time you looked at him like he was the only one you wanted.

Felix hated every part of himself, except for you.

"Tell me we shouldn’t do this,” you kissed him. A gentle kiss, pressed lightly to his bottom lip.

"We shouldn't," he exhaled against your lips.

"Tell me you mean it," you pleaded.

"I can't," is all he said.

And it was all you needed to hear.

You met his lips again and Felix eagerly fell into the kiss. He slid his tongue in your mouth and swiped it against yours, causing a breathy moan to escape you. His hands wandered up your sides where he squeezed lightly. Your teeth clashed, and when you pulled away for a breath he chased your lips with his own.

“Never again, remember?” you whispered, dragging your fingers along his temple, pushing back his hair.

“When I said that I didn't mean..I-I just meant that.." his eyes fell to your lap as he trailed off, making you aware of the slow grinding motion your hips had begun to trace against the growing bulge in his underwear.

A small sound of pleasure rose in his throat when you added pressure to your movement. You leaned in, your noses brushed, but before you could kiss him again Felix threw you off by widening the gap between his legs.

"What're you…"

“Use me, princess. I don't see anything wrong with that, do you?"

You hated the cocky expression he wore when he flexed the muscles of his thigh. You hated it, and before you knew it you were straddled around his left leg, silently cursing the thin material of your underwear as it was the only thing that separated your pooling heat from the bare skin on his thigh.

The gasp you let out turned to a whimper as he took hold of your hips and began to guide your pace, bobbing his leg underneath you. When your eyes fell to the obvious tent in his underwear, you pulled one of his hands away from your body to press his own palm down against it.

"Touch yourself, Felix. I don’t see anything wrong with that, do you?”

His breath hitched when you squeezed the hand over his bulge, and your pace slowed as you watched him comply. Bringing his hand up, he shoved his underwear down just enough to take out his hard cock, such a pretty cock, with a pretty pink tip. And you fought the urge to run your tongue along it—to taste the salty release.

Felix leaned back, locking eyes with you as he began to stroke himself, making your aching pussy involuntarily clench around nothing. When he bucked his hips up into his fist, you hissed at the sudden movement of his thigh. Your eyes followed the slow motion of his wrist, and as his thumb began to circle the tip, you decided that you couldn't fucking stand it anymore.

You leaned over and forcefully turned his head, placing a sloppy, wet kiss to his already parted lips. A rumble escaped his throat, and sweet, husky moans filled your mouth when you replaced the hand on his cock with your own.

It wasn't enough. It could have been, you knew you were close. One more flex of his thigh, a few more swipes against your sensitive clit, would have you tumbling over the edge. But his cock in your hand would never compare to how it felt stuffed inside your pussy.

Felix let out another low moan that turned into a chuckle when he watched the way your glossy eyes followed your hand as it moved up and down his throbbing length. "You know, you’re more than welcome to sit on my cock princess, if you think you can control yourself."

“Do you think you can control yourself if I don't let you touch me while I do it?" you managed.

Felix smirked in response, a dangerous smirk, dark eyes full of lust as he raised his hands dramatically before setting them down at his sides. And then your fingers were in his hair, trailing down his body, drawing a path with your touch. You pulled yourself back over to straddle his lap, and Felix moaned louder than you did when you pushed your panties to the side and sank down onto his thick length. Without giving yourself time to adjust, the burn from the stretch had you struggling to catch your breath, dizzy with pleasure.

Felix kept his hands at his sides as his hooded eyes trained to your chest. Sensing that he wanted to touch you there, you slipped out of your bra, cupping your breasts to tease him. He watched intently with his tongue between his teeth, and when your walls fluttered around him he let out a deep growl as his cock pulsed inside you.

Your fingers followed his eyes when they dropped down to where your bodies met—to your clit, where you began to rub lazy circles, causing his hands to twitch at his sides.

When he noticed the bulge in your lower abdomen, visible proof of how deeply he was buried inside of you, Felix thought he was going to lose his mind at the sight. His head fell back, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to keep from painting your walls with his cum right then and there.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was a calm sea of black in place of the stars.

“I can feel how bad your pussy wants me to touch you, angel.” When you opened your mouth to protest, he stole a kiss from your lips, swallowing your words before continuing. “To wrap my fingers around your throat,” you shuddered when he brought a hand up to your neck, but he didn’t make contact with your skin. Instead, he used the hand to reach around and grab a fistful of your hair at the roots. You let out a whimper when he jerked your head to the side before leaning in to whisper against your ear. “To fuck you dumb on my cock.”

You moaned again and a strained “fuck” fell from his lips when you shifted in a desperate attempt to feel him move inside you. When he let go of your hair, you dropped your head to his neck, and your hums mixed together in a symphony of pleasure as you began to rock your hips. Shamelessly giving in to your body's desire.

“Ah shit, just like that," he groaned, squeezing his hands into fists where they hovered at your sides. The twisting pressure in your core had you whimpering into the hot skin at his neck, “touch me, touch me please,” and Felix wasted no time. He roughly grabbed your hips and slammed himself up into you, shushing the soft cries that spilled from your lips as a result. "Such a good girl princess, gonna let me take care of you now?"

You nodded, preparing for him to thrust into you again, but Felix did something unexpected instead.

He lifted you up over the edge of the spring, and you clung to him as he laid you down on top of the clothing you had shed before getting into the water. It provided a barrier between you and the cold surface of the ground, and once he was satisfied and made sure that you were comfortable, he ripped your panties off and dragged the flushed tip of his cock back to your entrance, parting your folds.

And Felix thought it was cute, when you looked up at him with big shiny doe eyes waiting for him to take you. So sweet, so innocent. And something about it made him want to ruin you until you cried, just so he could be the one to wipe your tears.

"Don't forget who owns this pretty pussy, sweetheart," he growled hot against your ear as his cock pressed at the entrance of your needy hole. You let out a pathetic whine when he stopped his movement.

"Please, it hurts," you begged, squirming underneath his hold as your release leaked out around his tip.

"Tell me who owns this cunt, and I might just give you what you want," he huffed.

Your nails dug into his skin, tears pricking at your eyes as you whimpered, “Y-you do."

“C’mon baby I know you can do better than that. Say my name, sweetheart.”

“F-Felix...you do Felix, please,” you gripped his shoulders tighter, fingers passing over rough scars on the skin underneath.

“Thats right,” he hummed, easing himself into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“Does that feel good?” he chuckled at the way your hips greedily met his. When he bottomed out, you pulled him down into another heated kiss just to feel more of him. And then he began to thrust, moving his hips at pace far too slow for your liking as he relished in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in.

“S-so good, Lix, harder please. I can't-" Your back arched, your eyelids fluttered closed, and Felix had to bite his lip to keep from losing it at the sight.

“Yes you can," he purred, leaning down to whisper into your ear. "You begged for it like whore. So be a good girl and take it like one, hm?" And then without warning, Felix picked up his pace, drilling into you faster, deeper, harder.

You let out soft sobbing noises that he muffled with kisses—kisses along your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbones where he sucked and nipped at the skin. The marks he left behind would be covered by your clothing tomorrow, but they would be there, and only Felix will know it.

One of his hands snaked up to grab at your tits, then down to your clit where he pressed the pad of his thumb. He began to draw gentle circles, pushing you that much closer to your orgasm. And you didn't even try to hold back the loud moans of pleasure that escaped you as his thick cock bullied deeper into your cunt.

"'m fucking close, Lix-”

Felix was too, in fact he certain he wasn't going to last ten more seconds if you kept clenching around him. “I know-shit” he cursed under his breath, “But you’re going to hold it just a little bit longer for me.”

He pulled out with a deep groan and you let out a noise of protest at the sudden lack of fullness. "Shhh, I know but I haven't even gotten to taste you yet,” he muttered, shifting down to lower his face between your legs.

“Oh fuck-” your eyes shot open when you felt hot breath against the inside of your thighs. Your hands found their way to his dark locks, pressing his face into your cunt, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly you came when his broad tongue collided with your clit.

The pleasure was overwhelming as the orgasm ripped through. Felix continued to lap at you, collecting your arousal on his tongue. You cried out his name, over and over again, because you had forgotten everything else. And within seconds, before you had even come down from your own high, Felix was pumping his cock over your pulsing heat. He emptied himself on your pussy, against your folds, the warm sensation making you hiss.

After he had painted the most intimate parts of you with his cum, Felix took his fingers and spread his release over your overstimulated clit, making your legs tremble. And it took everything he had to fight the possessive urge to collect it on his fingers and push it inside your spent hole.

When the stars faded from your vision, you looked up to find him staring down at the mess he'd made. Eyelids half-open, lips parted in a daze. You reached down to collect some of your shared release onto your fingers and sat up to swipe it across his swollen lips. And then you kissed him, tongues meeting to taste the mixture of your releases. You pulled him back down without breaking the kiss, and he held himself up on shaky arms as your lips moved. Slow and passionate, wet and sloppy, as you inhaled each other in.

When the kiss broke, Felix pressed one final peck to your forehead before collapsing at your side, reaching over to pull you into his chest.

"You okay, princess?" his warm breath tickled your ear and you hummed in response. “Shit that was…you're so fucking hot."

"Never again though, right?" you teased, burying your face in his neck. Felix smiled softly against your hair, his chest shook with gentle laughter, and a sense of familiarity washed over you.

As if that very moment had repeated countless times before, in every single lifetime.

You stirred as the first rays of dawn found their way into the cave. Blinking away the grogginess, your body slowly became aware of the weight draped around you. Felix was still soundly asleep and you hesitated to disturb him, but the sudden need for fresh air pulled you gently from his hold.

With cautious steps over the rest of the sleeping boys, you made your way outside, momentarily taken aback by the bright golden rays that bathed the landscape. The sun's presence, without the usual cover of clouds, was a precious rarity—a gift that nature seldom chose to bestow upon the remnants of humanity. It called you to take a few steps further, to let it bathe your skin.

"Enjoying the view?"

You startled, cursing yourself for not paying more attention to the number of sleeping bodies in the cave. When your head snapped to the side you found Hyunjin perched on a large stone with a bright red apple in his hand and an open bag at his feet.

"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you," you grumbled, taking a step back.

"Don't worry about it," he replied casually, "It's not like I own the sunrise." His tone suggested that he might actually be trying to lighten the mood, to lessen the tension between you, and the surprise must have shown on your face because he let out a light chuckle before taking a bite of the apple.

"Hungry?" he asked. "You didn't eat much last night."

You hesitated, caught off guard by his observation. "A little, yeah."

"Here," he reached down into the bag and pulled out a second apple, tossing it to you. His eyebrows lifted when you caught it with ease. And then he shifted, as if he was making space for you to sit beside him. You paused, studying him for a brief second before accepting the invitation and settling down at his side.

"Thanks," you stole a quick glance his way before biting down into the fruit, appreciating the crisp sweetness as the juice ran down your chin.

"I've known Felix for a long time, y/n," he suddenly blurted out. Your chewing slowed as you turned your attention to him, intrigued by the sudden change in topic. "He's good at adapting, but I'm not sure he knows how to handle anything beyond survival anymore.”

After a moment, a half-smile ghosted across Hyunjin's features and he continued. “Felix is who he is. He isn't going to change for you, and he doesn't need the distraction. Just be careful with him."

"Because you weren't?" the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

"Something like that," Hyunjin's response was measured. They had history. You'd sensed as much, understood that some level of complexity existed between Felix and Hyunjin that wasn't there between the others.

When Hyunjin stood, he tossed his apple core aside and your eyes followed the movement, catching on one of his fingers—adorned with a ring that matched one of the rings Felix wore. The sight was like a punch to the gut, a tangible symbol of their bond, forged through circumstances that you couldn't even begin to understand.

“You’re wrong,” you stated as he prepared to leave.

His steps faltered, but he didn’t turn back around to face you when he spoke. “I’ve known him a lot longer than-“

“-Not about Felix,” you interrupted. “About me. I don’t have any desire to change him. I like the way he is because its whats kept him alive.”

Hyunjin stood motionless, as if he was choosing his next words very, very carefully. “You should try to get some more sleep before the rest of them wake," he stated plainly. And then, almost as an afterthought, his voice dropped before he added, "Didn’t sound like you got much last night."

Embarrassment fell over your entire body as he disappeared into the cave. With a heavy sigh you opened your hand, letting the half-eaten apple roll to the ground in front of you as the sweet flavor turned bitter in your mouth.

Upon re-entering the cave, Hyunjin was nowhere to be seen, leaving you to assume that he’d gone to the spring to clean up.

When your gaze shifted to Felix, still asleep where you had left him, your heart sank. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and the anguish etched across his face was unmistakably characteristic of a nightmare.

You stepped closer, concern deepening with each passing second as you watched his eyes dart behind closed lids. Kneeling down beside him you extended a hand, positioning it above his shoulder, but as your fingers inched closer you were abruptly halted by what fell from his lips.

It wasn't merely the despair in his voice that seized you—no, it was the word he spoke that left you frozen in place.

A simple word, whispered like an agonizing plea.

Your name.

Swallowed by darkness, he's stumbling forward but he doesn’t remember how he got there. His knees hit the ground, and he closes his eyes but he can still hear them. Heart-wrenching sobs echo in his ears, sending a shiver down his spine, because he knows it is your voice that they come from.

When he looks up, he sees you on the ground up ahead. Hunched over with your head in your hands and your back turned to him, your entire body shakes with each pained sob. He approaches you cautiously, heart heavy with concern. He reaches to place a hand on your shoulder, and he is surprised to find that your skin is ice cold.

When you turn to meet his eyes, your tear-stained face contorts in anguish and confusion. "Why?” you croak, your voice trembling.

The accusation in your gaze is like a stab to his heart, something he can't bear to see, yet his eyes refuse to close. “Why did you do it, Felix?” you continue. Your sobs turn violent, and his heart breaks as he is forced to watch your pain. He tries to speak, to beg you to forgive him for whatever it is he has done. Yet its as if his lips have been sewn shut, his tongue far too heavy to move. He extends a hand to wipe your tears, but you flinch away from his touch.

And suddenly you’re standing, facing each other. He doesn’t remember how it happened, but he is relieved that your sobs have ceased. He is relieved, until the newfound stillness brings a fresh wave panic to his veins. Because your sadness has been replaced by fear. And as your bloodshot eyes stare directly into his, Felix realizes that it is him, you are afraid of.

You breathe, but it is a ragged breath, as if you are struggling to draw in any air at all. "I trusted you," you whisper, but your speech is gargled as if you are being choked by something. Droplets of crimson fall from your mouth, and his eyes widen in horror as your lips tinge red with blood.

A final tear travels down your cheek as you lower your head. And Felix follows your eyes down, down to where his hand is tightly clutched around the blood-soaked handle of a knife.

A knife adorned with an intricate floral design, mercilessly embedded in your heart.

Part 7

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 @lolli4me @sunnyhonie @skzcollision @hydroyaksha @l1xvanter @nimx9 @ilychee08

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix au #stray kids au #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids angst #skz angst #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fan fiction #lee felix #felix #felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz felix

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hyuuukais · 11 months

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✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

warnings ☆ swearing abbreviations, jokes about being delulu, mentions of overthinking

notes ☆ first chapter!! woooo!!! i can't wait to dive in deeper!

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | NEXT

CHAPTER ONE ☆ YNSSTRAWBERRYFIELDS

#✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES #skz smau #stray kids smau #smau #social media au #lee felix au #streamer au #lee felix x reader #lee felix x yn #lee felix x fem reader #skz #stray kids #skz felix #lee felix #stray kids felix #lee yongbok #non idol au

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multifics99 · 4 months

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just another aesthetic board for a faery!felix fic I’ve been writing. i might post the first chapter this week :)))

#kpop #kpop fic #fic writer #skz fic #stray kids #stray kids fic #felix fic #lee felix #felix skz #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix stray kids #skz au #stray kids au #lee felix au #fairy!au #faery #fae #fantasy!au

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dwaekkilinos · 4 months

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wind and water (pt. 1) | lee felix

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | surfing au, childhood friends to lovers, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut word count: 15.7K chapter summary: you're in the wind, and felix lee is in the water. both of you are sons and daughters of no one anymore. warnings/notes: ok so! i originally posted this on my main blog but then i decided that'd be too confusing so it's getting uploaded here hehe (i also decided to split the chapter up to make it short but i can't promise that for future chapters), this fic is literally just hurt comfort with smut like i have no excuse, moving on: explicit language ahead, probably many typos, character death (reader's mom and felix's parents) fictional names for chris's family, hyunjin and jisung being the absolute best besties, forced proximity aka reader and felix have to share a room, mentions of death and everything surrounding it, grief, extreme coping mechanisms (reader goes a little insane and that's ok), insomnia, and i think that's it for this part but if i missed anything let me know, ok ok hope you enjoy <3

chapter one: this house is haunted ( next → )

Look for me in the wind.

There’s something people like to say at funerals. It’s stupid really, maybe even a little self-involved, but when the forsaken bell tolls and some poor soul in a casket rolls around, some sorry sucker will without a doubt preach that when people die, they’re never truly gone. It’s supposed to be comforting. It’s supposed to lighten the mood. It’s supposed to make things better; make you better; make you feel better that this person you once knew . . . that this person who had been in your life day in and day out was now gone, sure, but their memory was still there.

That’s supposed to make it better . . . right? It’s OK that they’re dead and gone—an empty cavity with nothing but bones and stitches keeping their flesh from sliding off—because at least they have someone to remember them.

It’s supposed to be OK.

It’s supposed to be.

But it never is.

Nothing is ever OK again. Because the truth is, when people die . . . they’re gone. Dead is dead, and dead is gone. They’re gone.

They become nothing once again. But that's the tricky part, isn’t it?—the fact that they were something once.

And it’s never easy letting go of something that still exists in some nature; because an abandoned house is still a house even with no heart, and a body is still a body even with no soul. Both have the bones to keep them standing for a little longer. Both can withstand a great deal more. And both will.

But they’re still . . . less. The house will never be a home again, and the body will never be a person. They’re just there, not fully present and not fully gone. They exist in this limbo, and it is this in-betweenness that makes letting it all go so . . . hard . . .

How do you put something like that to rest?

But . . . dead is gone, right? Dead is dead and dead is gone, so, fuck! Why was it so hard? She was gone. She was gone, gone, gone . . . but . . . but . . .

Look for me in the wind, was what your mother had told you the day she died. It was something you knew others in the hospital would kill to hear instead of a forced goodbye before a surgery everyone knew would fail. You supposed that should have brought you comfort: that your mother had left you with something irreplaceable.

But it didn’t, because you knew what it meant.

It meant that the rumors were true. When people die, yes, they’re gone, but a part of them is left behind. Only for you, it was the part of her you didn’t want to remember. You didn’t want to walk the streets of New York, always cold and windy, and think of your mother’s dying words.

Look for me in the wind, she had said and hours later she was gone.

When people die, they might not be truly gone, but that didn’t mean you weren’t left with memories you’d rather have died with her. And now . . . now all that you were left with were her final months.

It only reminded you that she was still dead. Even if her memory was there . . . she wasn’t.

You supposed it left you feeling a little . . . lost.

OK . . . maybe lost was a bit of an understatement.

It just . . . it didn’t take long after your mother’s death to figure out she had been the thread holding your family together. And when she died, everything fell apart . . .

It started with your father. At first, you, neither your sister, Erin, saw it, until three shoes by the front door turned to two, and he stopped coming home for dinner, insisting the two of you were grown adults and could fend for yourselves. But you knew what that meant. You’d always known it would happen, too, but your mother would never have allowed it. But you knew. God, you’d known since you were seventeen and you saw the messages on his phone.

Your father had found someone else, and quickly, it seemed. No . . . not quickly. She had always been there. Ever since he went away on a business trip one year after his mother’s death and came back with a secret and a request for a divorce. Your mother never allowed it of course, and they stayed together.

(You supposed you should’ve known he’d stay with her, too, and . . . wait.

Which he did, right? Congrats, dad, you were patient enough to fuck someone else two minutes after mom was shoved in the grave!

Class act, your father.

Whatever.)

So, your mother was dead. Your father was already planning a new family. And you and your sister were stuck in your childhood home, sitting opposite each other at the dining table while the empty seat with an equally empty plate resting on one of your mother’s special placemats, haunted the two of you. Because well, that wasn’t your father’s seat. No, the two of you stopped setting a plate for him the first day he didn’t show.

This seat used to be your mother’s, and that plate was for her . . . or her ghost, you guessed. (It was Erin’s idea. Obviously . . . )

Neither of you had mentioned it.

Neither of you planned to.

Neither of you would.

. . . This went on for a few more weeks.

Then . . . it was August once again. Fall semester was starting. It was going to be the start of your senior year at university. You were almost there. Almost.

Your sister left two days later. Back to Texas. Back to her husband and his kid. Back to her life. Back to normal.

She was twenty-nine and had a life, you got it. You were only twenty-one, just shy of turning twenty-two, and had no clue how to navigate . . . anything.

So . . . you . . . you stayed stagnant in that house.

Now, it was you who sat at the dinner table, not a soul in sight, just you and the empty seat where your mother used to eat when you were growing up. The plate was still empty, maybe even a little dusty now, because no one dared to touch it. Yours was always half-finished. You could never stomach more the second your eyes locked on the empty seat where your mother should have been.

And every night, you’d toss your half-eaten dinner in the trash, glance toward the still-set plate waiting for your mother, wait a few minutes . . . just to see if her ghost truly would take the seat, and when no ghost showed, you’d turn off the lights and head up to your childhood bedroom for the night.

Until . . . it was the night before the first day of the semester, and you realized it would be back to your apartment, and the house . . . her house . . . would be left empty for who knew how long. No more childhood, no more falling asleep on the couch and waking up to your mother carrying you to your bed, no ice cream as dinner, no nothing . . . not even a whisper from . . . her . . .

And like her body that you knew was rotting away day by day in her grave, her house would no longer be a home the second you stepped out the door and returned to the life you had made for yourself. It would stand, bones and all, days passing it by while it slowly rotted away without a single hand to dust its edges and sweep its floors. And so, it, too, would be taken to the weeds, leaving behind memories no one wished to remember. (Perhaps those memories would rot with it, too.)

It all just made you think, and the longer the gears in your brain turned, the more this sliver of rage grew inside of you.

A house with no bones, it would slowly become.

A house with no bones. A house with no heart. A body with no soul. A child with no mother . . .

Your mind just kept spinning and spinning and . . .

You supposed that was when you went a little . . . off course? Downhill? . . . Crazy, maybe? Well, perhaps a little more than that. Maybe like . . . utterly insane. (You were being generous, of course.)

Unbelievable, you say?

Well . . . sit down, buckle up, let’s just see what you have on the checklist.

Trash your childhood home, destroying all evidence that your mother even existed, but obviously leave the plate on the dining table just in case she comes back? Check.

Block everyone you know on . . . everything? Check.

Only show up to class in your mother’s clothes, wearing her makeup the way she used to, asking to be called by her name, basically becoming . . . her . . . ? Check, check, check, and . . . check.

Flunk all your first and second exams? Check, of course.

Midterms come around and your average for all of your classes is about hmm a good forty-six percent? Check.

Eventually withdraw from all your classes, dropping out of university entirely? Yeah . . . check.

The news somehow gets back to your father via bank statements, because how else would he get in contact with you? Oh, and then when he does finally find out about it, he decides that maybe you’re not OK after your mother just literally, oh you don't know, died. And does this mean letting you stay with him and his girlfriend for a little, maybe some therapy and a hug? Maybe? Well, no, of course not!

This means calling up your mother’s childhood friend, practically begging her to take in his delinquent child (AKA you) because well, obviously, you just need to feel connected with your mom again, so duh, that means shipping you off to your homeland or her homeland whatever same thing . . . which is P.S. another continent (Australia of all places . . . yeah) for like their summer or whatever and then you’ll be cured.

. . . Um . . . anyway . . . check!

Yeah . . . you supposed you really fucked yourself with that one.

. . . Whatever.

That was what you kept repeating, at least. Whatever this and whatever that. What else could you do? It wasn’t like anything mattered anymore.

Whatever, you muttered to yourself as you boarded the plane, with not even a second glance. No one was in the airport to bid farewell to anyway. So, whatever.

Whatever, you groaned as you finally landed in, you guessed it, Hell’s hotspot: Sydney, Australia. Whatever, you huffed as you caught sight of the Bahng family—Irene and Monty Bahng and their two kids Chris (one of your childhood friends . . . apparently) and Grace—waving to you. (Supposedly another member of the family was missing—Felix, one of Chris’s friends who you were, once again, supposedly supposed to supposedly know from childhood. He was apparently living with them since last year for unforeseen reasons that no one bothered to mention. But. He didn’t show due to more unforeseen reasons.)

You forgot to groan out another inner whatever the second you stepped into the backseat of their minivan, too wrapped up in your own head to care. Grace kept mentioning this and that, saying how excited she was to have another girl in the house because it was so horrible living with two adult boys. (She was fourteen, interested in being older than she was, and curious about the world. You got it. You used to be that young.)

And Chris, well, he was three years older than you and, as you would like to reiterate, apparently one of your best friends from childhood before your family packed up and moved just before junior high. You remembered little about him, but it wasn’t like it mattered. (You were just glad he kept Grace at bay, telling her to leave you be.)

Irene and Monty were fine, too. They kept asking you how your flight was, if you had eaten, and blah blah blah which you hated and responded with quiet hums as an answer, but . . . whatever. It didn’t matter if they were nice. You were stuck there and you hated it. You hated being back home, too. You hated everything and nothing mattered, so . . . whatever!

You remained silent the entire rest of the way to their house in their shitty, hot, no-WiFi-bearing town from Hell. Your silence carried on even as they ushered you out of the car, taking it upon themselves to carry your bags in without even a single hand from you, claiming that you should walk around the property while they got your room ready so you could get used to . . . everything. And you simply nodded without another word because . . . well . . . just because . . .

The Bahng’s lived atop a hill in a small bungalow with yards and yards of land which overlooked the ocean. You didn’t exactly know which ocean because you’d never cared to learn anything about anything. You’d been a biology major, and you hated it, so it wasn’t like you particularly liked learning. You had just put up with your degree to make your mother proud, and now that she was gone, well . . .

You swallowed hard. Never mind.

It was pretty. You’d give Southhaven that. But that was it.

This wasn’t your home. It never would be. You weren’t sure if you even had a home anymore.

. . .

With a soft sigh, you slightly tilted your head back, eyes closed as you faced the sun. Its heat beat down on you, and for once, you let it touch you. You let it caress your face, desperately trying to warm you, but you had never felt so cold.

And when it seemed your blood had almost frozen in your veins, you felt it . . .

. . . the wind.

In response, your jaw twisted so tight you wondered if it’d be enough to crack a molar. But the slight breeze in a world full of heat nudged you forward, causing your hair to slap your face.

Begrudgingly, you flicked your hair out of your face, forcibly tucking it behind your ears. But the wind persisted, seemingly tugging you toward the edge of the property.

You didn’t want to listen. You wanted to shove off the wind and stalk toward the house, but like the call of your name from your mother’s lips, you couldn’t turn the other way. No, instead, you followed the wind, you followed her voice, and approached the edge of the property where the ocean resided in the distance.

And only then, when you were overlooking the water below, did the wind seem to subside. Like a current, the tide had come in. No more whispers in your ear, but you could still feel it, just . . . in the distance.

You wondered what it meant. You always had. But how could you question the wind? How could you call out to it and beg for its presence?

Swallowing hard, you nearly attempted to question this intangible thing, until something caught your eye.

As you stood atop the hill, quietly questioning its existence, the suddenly wind returned, whipping through your hair, as the image of a man below on the shore stalked toward the ocean, surfboard tucked under his arm. His hair was blonde and wet as if he had been at this all day. His skin was marked with redness and small scratches, showing evidence of his advances. And he had this way of holding himself that just told you he not only held this . . . resentment but also . . . fear toward the ocean.

The wind whispered in your ear once more. You blinked. It was almost as if the wind were telling you to keep watching, to listen and hear the pounding of his heartbeat from up there.

Could you hear how loudly it was beating as he stared down the ocean? Or was it your own heart that you heard?

Was this man even real? Were you?

But that didn’t matter. Real or not, you couldn’t tear your eyes from him. You watched in silence, you and the wind atop the hill, as he paddled out into the water, positioning himself perfectly to catch a wave.

You watched as he waited and waited. You watched as wave after wave became big then small then nothing, and he was left still waiting. And when a good, strong wave did come, he tried and tried, but . . . failed.

And time and time again, the waves kept coming but . . . they seemed to elude him. He missed every single one.

Frustration seemed to consume him as he smacked the water before tugging his hands through his hair to push back the wet, blonde strands. And as he continued to battle with the waves, you could see his anger mounting. The more he missed, the more his frustration grew. You watched him take deep breaths, trying to calm himself, but it seemed even that couldn't bring him the solace he sought.

Finally, you watched as he breathed in sharply through his nose, tilting his head toward the sky as the sun beat down on his face. Just like you had done moments ago, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to soak in the warmth. It seemed . . . it seemed; however, even that couldn’t help him, his brows furrowed and his mouth in a permanent frown as the wind twisted through his wet hair, causing him to shiver even in the sun.

And you began to wonder . . .

. . . Did the wind haunt him, too?

“He’s good, isn’t he?” you suddenly heard from beside you, but you didn’t jump, you didn’t even turn to greet the person. You already knew who it was anyway. Chris, of course. (You supposed his parents had made him become the spokesperson for the family given the fact that the two of you had been friends a million years ago. Or maybe he was just that . . . out there.)

Whatever.

“Hmm?” you hummed out, remaining as silent as you could.

Chris gestured to the vast ocean below, toward the boy (No, man? . . . ) who still sat on his board, eyes now scanning the waters before him once again. “Felix,” he restated.

Oh. You bit the inside of your cheek.

That was Felix.

“You remember him, don’t you? Taught you how to keep your head above water. You had quite the trouble getting a hang of your sea legs.” Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “I remember you’d cry any time you’d get salt water in your mouth.”

“No,” you murmured. “Don’t remember. Doesn’t seem like he was a very good teacher either. Hasn’t caught a wave once.”

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t turn to meet his gaze. Still, it seemed Chris was hard to turn away. He, like you in the wind, stayed stagnant, solid as stone as he stood beside you. Not even the brisk air could turn him away, even when it seemed to get colder the closer he stood to you. You’d thought maybe he’d catch on; to the fact that in all of Southhaven, the coldest spot was right next to you. But he didn’t. He stayed put, and then . . . then he spoke.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to the funeral,” he spoke softly as if he were talking to a child.

Your heart plummeted, and the sliver of rage grew inside of you once again. A wildfire now, it had become.

Sure, he was a few years older than you, but he didn’t have to treat you like . . . that. You could handle things. You handed your mother’s death for god's sake, so why couldn’t he talk to you like you were an actual person and not some fragile—

“I won’t try to understand, because I don’t,” he continued, knowing you wouldn’t respond. “And I won’t try to make you feel better. I know it doesn’t work that way, but Felix . . . “ He sighed, before breathing in sharply. “He lost his parents a year ago. I won’t try to understand, but he . . . he already does.”

Your eyes snapped in his direction then. But your lips remained sealed.

Chris took this as his sign to continue. “Just—“ he wet his lips, brows raising— “don’t be too harsh on him. If there’s anyone who understands how you feel . . . it’s him.”

Remaining silent, you could only swallow your thoughts, your feelings, your words. You shoved it all down and continued to stare, eyes surely unwelcoming and dull.

But he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Maybe . . . maybe he was used to it.

“Anyway—“ he huffed out with a growing smile— “come on, your room is ready.” He reached forward to grab the bag you still held in your hands without another word. “You’ll have to room with Felix, but I promise we’re trying to set up the shed for one of you. It’s just a little fucked between Dad’s workshop and Grace’s many, many, many abandoned projects . . . but we’ll get there . . . promise. But, hey, you get your own bathroom and—“

Of course, his blabbering didn’t stop there as he began to lead you toward the house, but you couldn’t spend more energy trying to listen to him. It was all useless anyway. You had a room. There were bathrooms in the house. Food. Everything else you’d need to survive.

But . . . your thoughts were elsewhere. Your gaze landed on the boy . . . Felix . . . once again, watching as he remained still, almost as motionless as the sea that surrounded him. It was almost as if he were waiting for something. Even if he caught a wave, it seemed he’d remain there until that something came around.

Quickly, you began to wonder, would it ever? Or would he remain in that water forevermore?

. . . Would . . . you remain stagnant, too?

And amid it all, the wind returned, whistling in your ears . . . and then . . . then you began to hear a faint voice calling your name. You knew it was Chris, but you didn’t care. You were so deeply immersed in your own thoughts, so consumed by despair, that the sound seemed distant and muffled. It was as if a thick fog had settled over your mind, clouding your senses and preventing you from clearly hearing anything other than that cruel wind.

The calls continued, but you remained trapped within the confines of your own mind. You were rendered deaf to the outside world, and you yearned for a moment of clarity, a moment where you could hear . . .

. . . a moment where you could hear . . . her voice again . . .

Chris called your name again, and you squeezed your eyes shut. It wasn’t her. He wasn’t her. It was his voice that called out to you, not hers.

She was gone, the wind serving as a cruel reminder of this.

And finally, you forced yourself out of this haze, shoving out the thoughts of your mother as you tore your eyes from Felix, who still resided in the ocean, and faced reality; faced Chris.

“You good?” he questioned once your eyes were on him again, and you could finally hear him.

But you didn’t respond.

No, instead you hurriedly approached him, snatched your bag from his hands, and stalked off toward the house, leaving everything behind.

But the wind followed, consuming your senses, and you realized it always would.

When you were a kid, you had a hard time making any friends. You were awkward and kept your mouth shut at all times. The messages in your yearbooks would always be directed toward how nice you were, but they didn’t know you. You didn’t have a kind soul. It took a while to realize that. It took even longer to accept it—that you were a miserable child who grew into an even more miserable adult.

Boys didn’t like you. Girls didn’t either. Some days you wondered if your parents even liked you. Sure, your mother loved you (albeit, she’d loved your sister more, but that was a given), but some days you wondered if she even liked the person you were.

And your father . . .

You were sure your father was trying to cut ties with the life he had made with your mother the moment they met. (And as time would see it, as soon as she was gone, the love he claimed he had for you and your sister went too.)

So if someone were to ask you if you had been a lonely child . . . You wouldn’t have known what to say because the truth was: if you’re alone all your life; if being alone is all you’ve ever known, then how do you know if you’re lonely?

Was there a checklist for that, too?

Now, yeah, sure, you knew people growing up. Sure, you talked to people throughout junior and high school. But nothing ever carried on outside of the school grounds. Everything had always just been surface-level with you. (At least, from what you remembered, which . . . wasn’t much.)

Being alone wasn’t so bad either. It was just normal. Your normal. So it hadn’t really bothered you when your birthday “parties” consisted of just you, your sister, your mother, and—sometimes, perhaps, maybe if he had the time—your father.

But it wasn’t until university that you realized what it would feel like to lose something.

It wasn’t until the one random art credit you signed up for managed to fall under the same time you had decided to move the rest of your shit into your dorm, leading to you racing to the Creative Arts Center (which was, by the way, located across campus) just for you to end up being the very last person to storm into the classroom, meaning yes, there was only one seat left, and yes, you had to awkwardly claim it with everyone’s eyes on you. But! But! Well . . . the open seat just so happened to be next to Hwang Hyunjin, who would very quickly become the only friend you had ever really had.

Now . . . Hwang Hyunjin wasn’t a tough nut to crack. While you were slightly off-putting and quiet, he was kind and always had something to say, with this odd warmth radiating off him wherever he went. He just seemed to make people . . . better.

His art was that way, too, but that was a story for another day.

Anyway . . . you didn’t exactly remember how the two of you became friends. You supposed it kind of just . . . happened, but one second you were alone, then the next it was where he went you did too, and vice versa.

And halfway through that October, when he introduced you to his dormmate, Han Jisung, the two of you quickly became three, and the rest was three years of history.

It was only then, in those three strenuous years, that you realized that now, for once in your life, you had something to lose. (You’d be a liar if it didn’t keep you up some nights. You’d be a liar if those nights you didn’t cry yourself to sleep, mourning something that had yet to happen. You’d be a liar.)

That was the thing: you always thought it would end. You never thought that this thing you now had would ever last for longer than a few years.

So . . . when you lost your mother, you supposed something in you decided that this was it. It was time to give them up, too, because now that you had lost something, it was time to lose everything, you supposed.

But what you hadn’t accounted for was that Hwang Hyunjin, the poet he was, did not believe in endings. He believed things happened for a reason. He did not believe the two of you met for nothing, and he would be damned if he just let you slip through his fingers like . . . that.

You really did try, too. You tried to avoid him. You tried to lock yourself in your apartment and let the world just . . . fall away. But Hyunjin never gave up; whether it was dropping food off at your front step so you wouldn’t starve, to forcing you to let him and Jisung inside the house just for the three of you to watch a movie in silence, because at least then you wouldn’t be alone. (You were also positive the reason why you even had like a thirty-seven percent in Ecology was because Jisung did your homework and his.)

Somewhere down the line, you realized sometimes you meet people and the rest is history. No matter how hard you tried to push them away like you had done to everyone else in your life, they refused. There was no without with them.

Some things were meant to stay even when you’d already lost everything else. And nights when it felt like you truly had nothing and no one, there would always be a text on your phone from their group chat.

(Some days you wondered if you would even still be here if they hadn’t pushed their way into your life . . . and those days you cried yourself to sleep.)

You supposed there was no more time for that as you glanced behind you, eyes locked on the twin bed situated across the room from yours. There, this Felix, would sleep, the two of you forced to share a room with a bathroom connected to it, sure, but . . . you’d only shared a room your first year at university in the dorms, and that was enough for you. And now . . . this . . .

(You would’ve rather taken the casket next to your mother’s.)

A whiny call of your name tore you from your mind, forcing you to leave behind the past as you turned back to your phone. The faces of Hyunjin and Jisung met you immediately as Hyunjin squinted his eyes at you, taking in your odd demeanor while Jisung tapped away on his phone in confusion (a constant state for him).

Oh, you thought, blinking slowly. You had forgotten they were on the call.

“Hmm?” you hummed, but didn’t speak a word further.

A twitch of confusion tugged at Hyunjin’s brows. “The guy,” he reiterated, trailing off as if waiting for you to chime in and cut him off. But you never did, and for a brief second, you saw him bite the inside of his cheek (something he did when he was worried) before he quickly covered it up by shaking his head and opening his mouth to speak once more. “What’s he look like?”

Before you could get a word in, Jisung clicked his tongue as he lowered his phone. “Do you have to be so cryptic all the time? I get it’s part of the whole tortured artist bit, but—“ he cut himself off with a wave of his hand.

Hyunjin was glaring at him in a heartbeat. “Tortured—“ he scoffed— “Tortured artist? You’re crazy.” He drilled a finger into Jisung’s shoulder. “You sound crazy, know that?”

“Crazy?!” Jisung retorted, fully putting his phone down on the coffee table now. (This was for an ulterior motive, of course, as the next second he was eyeing something out of your sight, which resided on that same coffee table.) “Give me that sketchbook.” Quickly, he bent over and snatched the sketchbook, wasting no time flipping through it. “What have you been drawing, huh? Porn?”

Hyunjin nearly pounced on him. “What the—What is wrong with you? Who even says that?” he grumbled out, trying to pry the sketchbook out of his friend’s hands, all the while, Jisung fought him off long enough to flash you a few of the pages. “It’s called—“ he finally ripped his sketchbook out of Jisung’s grasp and secured it under his arm with an exhale— “figurative arts. Something you’d know if you ever cared to come with me.”

Jisung leaned back, sinking into the couch as he spread his legs for a more comfortable position. “Why the fuck would I wake up at the ass-crack of dawn to go draw naked people with my roommate?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Roommates go on coffee runs together, not draw dicks, which, might I add, you have to pay for?”

“Because it’s art.”

“It’s porn.”

And with that, Hyunjin tapped out. With an exasperated scoff, he sent one more glare Jisung’s way before he was flipping through his sketchbook, trying to access the damage done, all the while, muttering under his breath in his native tongue. (Something about Jisung being an idiot, of course.) Jisung caught onto this, too, and sent you a sideways look before he began to taunt and mock the older boy.

Only then when you felt yourself laugh under your breath, did you realize you had been fondly smiling at them the entire time. But that was just how things went. They were always like this, being roommates for all of university, and it never ceased to fill you with a sense of belonging. (It also never ceased to fill you with a sense of dread . . . because if your suspicions were correct and you did end up alone . . . then this . . . this would be something you’d miss about them the most.)

But until then . . . you’d mourn quietly. You had to . . .

Clearing your throat and head, your smile slowly fell into a straight line as you glanced between the two boys. “Are you two done?” you heard yourself ask before you even felt your lips moving.

“Yeah, when he’s six feet under,” Jisung retorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyed his friend up and down.

Hyunjin nearly rolled his eyes. “Like you won’t be buried right beside me just out of spite.”

“Well . . . I hadn’t thought of that, but now that you mention it . . . “

This time; however, Hyunjin did roll his eyes. “Shut up, would you?”

And at those words, Jisung’s mouth hung open with the click of his tongue. He eyed you as if to ask if you had heard the same thing, but you only shook your head at the two of them, trying desperately to bite back the stiff smile spreading onto your face.

As your smile flattened out into the same thin line, you shifted atop your bed, laying on your side with your knees pulled up to your chest as you held your phone in your hand. “I haven’t met him yet,” you muttered out the next second, before either of them could continue this little ruse they had going on (you knew what they were trying to do anyway . . . (Whether they admitted it or not, you could see the change in the way they acted around you after everything . . . happened (now everything was done to get even a smidge of a smile out of you.)))

Jisung quirked a brow, glancing at Hyunjin with his lips pursed as he asked, “Who?”

“The guy,” Hyunjin vaguely explained as he pointed at you through the screen, or rather the bed behind you that could slightly be seen in the camera.

“Oh,” Jisung hummed with a snap of his fingers, “the one you’re going to fuck?”

Hyunjin pinched the bridge of his nose. “What is wrong with you?”

“Listen, I’m always right,” Jisung exclaimed, glancing between you and his roommate. “The two of you can fuck off. It just makes sense. You’ve known him since you were a kid, right? So, a little reunion blah blah blah, you have to sleep in the same room, you’re drunk, you’re horny, you fuck. It’s the circle of life.”

Silence.

Then . . .

A snort from Hyunjin. (You were sure he’d called him an idiot under his breath, but the connection cut out toward the end.)

And you sighed. “OK, Ji . . . I haven’t seen the guy since I was, like, ten,” you explained, trying to explain to your friend all the one-hundred and one reasons why you were not going to sleep with this . . . this stranger. And then, your mouth opened before you could stop it, and words, words that didn’t even sound like your own fumbled from your tongue . . . “Plus . . . he seems like a nutcase. He didn’t show up at the airport because he was apparently busy . . . but when I got here, he was just surfing . . . not even actually. And that! That was five hours ago. He didn’t even come up to eat. I mean that’s crazy, right?”

Shuffling further up the bed, you grabbed the pillow to hug, while awaiting your friends’ responses, but . . .

“Crazy, huh?” you heard a deep voice question from behind you. And this wasn’t a voice you had heard before, which led you to one solution . . . Felix . . .

Fuck.

Hastily, with your eyes wide, you slapped your phone face down as you shot up in your bed, gaze immediately snapping toward the door.

And there he was.

Felix stood in the doorway, towel in hand as he dried his wet, blonde hair (no doubt dyed a month ago guessing by the appearance of his dark roots peeking through). “Didn't realize I was being analyzed today,” he muttered in a soft chuckle.

But you remained silent. It seemed you’d become more afraid of your voice in recent months anyway, so speaking really was rare, but this . . . this had you speechless for an entirely different reason.

In your silence, you let your eyes wander, and noticed Felix only had one foot in the room, the rest of his body lingering in the hallway as he glanced from your face to your phone to his dresser. It was almost as if he was . . . afraid . . . ? No, hesitant. Yes, hesitant to walk in this space that the two of you were now expected to share as if you hadn’t seen each other in a decade or so.

Because the thing was, yes, you remembered him, but not in the same way you’d remember something that happened a long time ago, but rather in the same way you’d remember a childhood pet. There was warmth there; a certain fondness that you could only place when you truly saw him face to face like this. But it was lacking—like you couldn’t remember why or how you felt this way, you just knew you did.

What you could remember felt like a dream. It didn’t feel like it had actually happened. And sure, nothing ever did lately, but this . . . this was different. You knew him. God, you knew him but you just couldn’t . . . place it. You couldn’t remember anything about him. Just those freckles that adorned his sunkissed cheeks, a wide, toothy smile with dimples, his laughter kept floating through your head as you stared at him.

You could remember a boy around the age of eight, and he was laughing. A soft giggle with eyes that smiled too. Then . . . colors. Sunsets. The feeling of floating. The bitter taste of seawater and . . . oh what was it (?) . . . taffy! Yes, the taste of Cherry Cherry saltwater taffy. And . . . (you swallowed hard) . . . the warmth of a hand in yours . . .

Had the two of you really been friends or was that just something your parents said? . . . How close had you been?

Slightly, you shifted on your bed, body inching toward him as if you were dying to say something . . . anything. But no words left your lips and you remained staring at him, and him at you . . . only he wasn’t looking at you in the same way. No . . . he . . . he was just staring at you, his eyes empty; it was like he wasn’t even there, his thoughts carrying him elsewhere while you remained grounded, wondering who he was and why he had meant something to you if you couldn’t even remember him.

Did he not remember you either? Or—

“It’s silent. Is he gone?” Jisung whispered (well, if you knew him, you’d know that his whispering just meant yelling in a hushed tone . . . so really . . . ).

You remained silent once again, unable to tell your friend to keep quiet. Your eyes just stayed on Felix, taking in the way his drenched shirt clung to his body, evidence of his day’s endeavors. And then you began to wonder . . . did he finally catch that wave?

Swallowing hard, you eyed the small scratch on his cheek. The waves, it seemed, had fought back against the punches he’d thrown them earlier in the day. Had they thrown him to the sand? Or had it always been there?

“Well . . . he’s got a voice on him, yeah?” Jisung piped up again after a minute of no words from you or Hyunjin or . . . him.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt your face grow hot. And it seemed Hyunjin knew this would happen, too, as you heard the sound of him slapping Jisung on the arm.

Jisung cried out in retaliation, “What? What?! Tell me he doesn’t sound hot? No, no, Hyunjin, look me in the eyes. Look me in the—“

But this time you were one step ahead. Instead of letting your face grow warmer, you haphazardly snatched your phone and hung up on the two boys before Jisung could say any more.

And then . . . it truly was silent, only the sound of the wind whistling outside mixed with the crashing of waves in the distance could be heard. (That and probably your heart hammering in your chest. (You forgot to mention that you didn’t take well to . . . embarrassing . . . moments.))

You glanced at the scratch under his eye once again as you shifted on the bed, pulling your legs to your chest.

Now . . . you’d like to defend yourself . . . the thing about you was the very fact that you did not do well with people. You never had and you didn’t think you ever would.

For a long time, you tried to claim it was because you simply just didn’t like them, but you knew better than that. What you wouldn’t admit was the fact that you just didn’t know how to talk to people.

You’d always known why people didn’t like you. Even as a kid, it had been obvious. You just . . . didn’t know how to be like them. You didn’t know how to view things in moderation. You didn’t know how to enjoy things. You didn’t know how to talk to them or laugh with them. You supposed you just didn’t really know how to be a person.

And everyone saw this, too. That was why you graduated high school with no one to celebrate it with. That was why you went home every day after school and just sat in your room. That was why you had always tried too hard to fit in, only resulting in looks being sent your way. That was why you had always been alone, waiting for everyone to eventually leave. That was why you still wondered why Hyunjin and Jisung hadn’t given up on you yet.

That was why you now sat in front of someone you once knew; someone that you should recognize; someone that meant something to you but you just couldn’t remember why . . . and now . . . now you couldn’t even utter a word. Because . . . you didn’t know how to speak to people; to him . . .

That was why you had always been alone. And that was why you were alone now.

You were sure he could sense it, too. You were sure he wouldn’t want anything to do with you even if he could remember what you couldn’t. You were sure he’d ask the Bahngs to let him sleep somewhere else as long as it wasn’t next to the odd girl who—

“You must be the American,” Felix suddenly sighed out, stealing you from your own mind. “Can’t say I remember you being this . . . charming.” He sent a glance your way as he finally entered the room, heading straight toward the dresser on his side.

With careful almost fearful eyes, you watched as he rummaged through his dresser for some clothes. “You weren’t meant to hear that,” you found yourself mumbling out, barely audible and hoarse. Quickly, you cleared your throat, and repeated the words once more, this time clearer and a little louder.

(This kind of thing used to happen to you all the time as a kid. You wouldn’t talk for so long that when you finally did, it was like your voice wasn’t even your own. It was like the longer you’d go without speaking, the closer you were to losing your voice altogether.)

Felix laughed under his breath. “Mmm, but I did,” he commented as he glanced over his shoulder at you with clothes now in his hands.

However, when you only stared back at him like a deer caught in the headlights, he sighed. Felix ran his free hand through his wet hair, pushing it out of his face as he fully turned around to face you, leaning on the dresser for support. “Look . . . it’s OK,” he hummed with a small smile . . . one that showed his dimple but only for a second. (Only long enough for you to remember that same dimple from your younger years.) “I don’t mind. Don’t sweat it. Swear I’m used to it.”

Your brows twitched in response, waiting for the ball to drop. When would the flip switch? When would he exile you like the rest?

But nothing ever came.

Felix simply just sent one more tight-lipped smile your way before he headed for the bathroom door attached to the room. And you watched in shock, still waiting for him to say something . . . anything that would send you wallowing under your covers for the rest of the night.

Still . . . even as he stopped in the doorway, nothing came; instead, he mumbled out, “Let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’m gonna hop in the shower. It’s all yours after that.”

And then he was gone. The sound of the shower came a few seconds later, while you stayed stuck on your bed, staring in shock at the place where he once stood.

When you were a kid, you had a hard time making any friends, and it seemed some old habits never died, yes, but . . .

This was different.

This was a boy from your childhood. This was someone you once knew. This was someone who meant something to you once. You knew that. You knew he had to have meant something.

When you were a kid, you had a hard time making friends . . . except, it seemed . . . for him. Only . . . you couldn’t remember why or how or . . . or . . or anything.

With a defeated sigh, you fell back onto your bed, memories of sunsets and a warm hand in yours playing on repeat in your mind.

The next few days went like this:

Day one: wake up to the sun shining through the curtains, nearly blinding you; realize the view out your window isn’t the busy city streets of New York, but rather a just about deserted beach; rot in bed until three in the afternoon when the thoughts of your mother’s face finally become too much; quietly greet Irene in the kitchen before heading outside with a piece of toast in hand; find Felix surfing just below on that very same deserted beach; watch him miss wave after wave until the sun goes down; dinner, blah, blah, blah and suddenly you’re in bed again, trying not to look across the room where Felix lays; eventually let yourself sneak a peek at him out of the corner of your eye, and when you do, you realize he’d fallen asleep with his lamp on, his face the picture of innocence and yet . . . a pinch in his brows catches your eye; quickly and quietly turn his lamp off before slipping back into your bed and falling asleep with questions of what was playing on his mind.

Day two: wake up, groan at the sun, hate the heat, and stay in your bed until two this time; sit in the living room with Grace (she’s preoccupied watching whatever’s captured her attention on the TV, while you get to work in your sketchbook (something you’ve picked up since that first art class)); dinner, wash, bed; Felix climbs into bed an hour after you have and you realize you’ve subconsciously stayed up, waiting for him; stay silent as he mutters a quiet goodnight to you before the lights are out; stay up an hour more, wondering if he caught a wave.

Day three: Grace wakes you up before it even hits twelve (and you let her because . . . whatever); let her, along with Chris, show you around town as she drags you from store to store, telling you how Abigail Newton would so totally buy that hat but would hate that belt when she passes every mannequin; eventually buy her that very hat so she can tell this Abigail to shove it because . . . whatever . . . ; head back and let her convince you into watching her show with her for the rest of the day; smile once . . . or maybe twice because, of course, you have to indulge her (and that was it); try not to make it obvious you’re staring when Felix comes waltzing into the living room, seemingly coming from his room (your room?) (and not from outside; not from the ocean), plopping down on the couch opposite of you, claiming he just loves this show (but you know he says it to make Grace happy); wonder and wonder and wonder why he’s given up surfing for the day.

Day four: ah, day four, yes . . . manage to wake up at ten (only because Grace told you to the night before); get dressed, touch the locket your mother gave you for your sixteenth birthday for good luck . . . but wait . . . where’s the locket . . . fuck, fuck, fuck; proceed to freak out for the next half-hour, tearing up the entirety of your belongings in hopes of finding it, only to find absolutely nothing; freak out some more, maybe cry a little, and just when you’re about to literally pull all your hair out, there’s a knock at your door and in comes Felix . . . with your locket in his hand; nearly trip over everything just to grab the locket from him, desperately trying to put it back on, but your hands are shaking far too much, only for . . . Felix to gently put a hand on your shoulder before taking the locket back from you; let him brush your hair aside and clasp the locket around your neck; remain frozen in shock as he mutters something about how it must have fallen off your neck last night while you were watching TV on the couch . . . and then . . . he’s gone, and you’re still there.

Day five: Felix is gone; he’s been gone all day and by night, there are people over . . . it’s a cookout apparently . . . spontaneous one, too; awkwardly stand in the corner of the yard, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone because this is too much (everything has always been too much); try not to lose it . . . repeat: try not to lose it; swallow your tears and stay stagnant even as this person who you only know as one of the Bahngs’ family friends comes up to you and starts . . . talking; and then:

“We were so sorry to hear about your mother. She was a good woman. . . . How are you holding up, honey?”

Those words were spoken and you felt your blood run cold. The world caved in a second later. You felt small. Small and worthless. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to run, but you couldn't. Your mind had been the only thing to stay alert. Just run, you thought. Run. Get to your room. There won't be anyone there. Run. Fucking run.

But you couldn’t. You wanted to but the memories of the night your mother died kept rushing in, paralyzing you. You could hear the monitor beeping. You could feel her hand in yours, oddly cold. You could see the nurses and doctors and whoever else scrounging around you, desperately trying to bring her back while someone pulled you back. You could hear your own voice, screaming out for her, screaming for them to put you down, screaming for them, it, whoever to take you instead of her. You could hear her whisper, look for me in the wind, and then you couldn't breathe.

I can't breathe. You tried gasping for air, but it never stuck in your lungs. I can't breathe. You could have sworn this was what drowning felt like as your breaths came out quicker and quicker. Oh, my God, I can't fucking breathe.

You needed air. You needed space. You needed to get inside; to get to your room.

Your eyes darted to the sliding back door, and knew what you had to do. You forced her legs to move as you tried to make it to the door. But you never made it; a hand grasped your arm and you whipped around to face the same woman once again.

“Honey, what’s going on? Are you OK?” she questioned, concern clear in her eyes but you didn’t care.

She couldn’t see it. She couldn’t see that when a child loses their mother, they lose everything. Your mother. Your mother. Your fucking mother. It didn’t matter if you had fought or if some days you didn’t like each other. It didn’t fucking matter. She had been your mother, and she was fucking gone.

Fuck! She couldn’t see it. Unless she did. Was she doing this on purpose? Who even was she? Had she hated your mother and that’s why she was doing this to you? No, you were thinking too much into it. Fuck, fuck, you had to throw up. No, you had to get to your room. You couldn’t be here. You had to get away from this, from them, from everything. You had to be alone as you always had been.

And then you were gone, running inside before taking off through the house, weaving past all these people until you finally caught sight of your bedroom door. You were going to throw up. Fuck, you were going to throw up. Your pace sped up and then you were there, hand on the doorknob, swinging it open and slamming it shut behind you before you lunged for the bathroom.

Another swinging of a door occurred as you whipped the bathroom door open, hand already on your mouth to stop yourself from vomiting all over your clothes. You didn’t register anything else as you slapped your hands down against the sink, instantly peeling over and spilling your guts.

And only when you were done, did you realize where you were, what you had done, and who was staring at you in the mirror.

In silence, you wiped your mouth on your hand, realizing you’d have to take a shower after this anyway, all the while, your eyes remained locked on the person staring back at you in the mirror. Regret and horror filled you, because none other than Felix was standing behind you, chest bare, but with pajama pants on and hair that was still slightly damp from the shower that he had most likely just taken moments before you barged into the bathroom unannounced, and vomited all over his night routine.

Felix still stood in confusion, and perhaps concern, with a floss-pick hanging out of his mouth while he took in your appearance. And while he stared, you lowered your gaze, finding it too hard to maintain eye contact.

“What—” he began, but you quickly cut him off.

“Food got to me,” you muttered out, throwing your hands up with a quick laugh. “Hamburgers’re too rare for me, I guess.”

Felix remained silent, tonguing the inside of his cheek. “I’ll leave you to it then,” he murmured, eyeing you one last time before tossing the floss-pick in the bin and exiting the bathroom with his white tee clasped in his hand. And as he turned you watched him quickly tug the tee over his head, but not before something caught your eye.

“How did you—“ you found yourself saying before quickly holding your tongue. But it was too late, your words had already got to Felix.

He glanced over his shoulder, slowly turning to face you again. “Hmm?” he hummed, searching your eyes with that same consuming gaze.

You only shook your head. “Nothing.”

A beat of silence.

Felix didn’t move, as if still waiting for your question.

No question ever came.

You were sure a minute had passed before you cleared your throat and pointed to the shower. “I’m gonna . . . “

Felix blinked, his eyes widening. “Right,” he mumbled, clearing his throat now. “Sorry.” And then he was gone, closing the bathroom door behind him, and leaving you to your reflection in the mirror.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to face . . . well . . . yourself. Your steered clear of your reflection, your mind too dizzy to comprehend anything other than what you had seen . . . because as Felix had turned his back to you, you had caught sight of a large, deep scar starting from the tip of his shoulder and ending just above his waistline.

Perhaps you couldn’t remember much about him, but you were sure you’d remember something as drastic as that. It seemed dark too, not quite new but not old in the slightest.

And then you began to wonder . . . what had happened to him to cause a scar with such brutality . . . ?

On a dreary day of a random Tuesday, you were born to a room of only your mother and aunt. Your father had never made it, due to his new office job, and Erin was forced to wait outside of the room with your grandmother because she was only four at the time. And amid shock from her labor, your mother named her baby girl.

Rosebud was to be your name.

Your mother recalled her little girl coming out of her womb with a small port wine stain on the side of her neck. You were red like a rosebud, she used to tell you as a bedtime story when you were little. Rosebud was to be your name, and it had been.

The little girl was named Rosebud and everything was blissful behind the cages of your household. And all was actually well and right until Erin started jumping up and down at her little sister's bassinet, calling you by the name she’d chosen, not Rosebud. She'd cheer your name over and over again, refusing to call you anything else even when your parents scolded her.

But nothing ever stopped Erin. Back then, she could never be confined by her parents, even in the simplest of terms. To her, her little sister was not this Rosebud.

And eventually, after a few days of Erin refusing to call you anything else, your parents gave in. Their newborn was to be named by her older sister. Not Rosebud or anything else your mother had written down.

Luckily, the papers hadn't been signed or anything of that sort, so their little girl was to be named by none other than your very stubborn, now very stern, older sister.

(Your mother, as stubborn as she was, did get her way by gifting you with the middle name of her name. (You sometimes thought this was your mother's way of branding you, like naming you after her was her way of inserting herself into your soul. (If only she had known she’d forever be etched across your entire being just decades later.)))

Anyway . . .

There was the kicker: you didn't just come to be. Your sister had named you, and thus, a very long and very strenuous name for a very angry and odd girl was born (Sometimes nicknamed Rosebud).

In the past week you had been with the Bahngs, you wondered how little Rosebud ended up alone on the other side of the world. It had been on your mind ever since you arrived and saw how this family acted. It was as if you were witnessing a real family for the first time in your life.

When you were a kid, you’d sometimes see other families while sitting in the stands for your sister’s soccer, basketball, lacrosse (etc . . . ) games (as well as her student council lectures and her flute recitals . . . including that one time she joined the school play for Romeo and Juliet (she got Juliet . . . obviously)) . . . Whatever . . . you’d see how other families acted towards each other at these . . . electives. Some were like yours, but other . . . other had this genuine warmth that you just . . . you just couldn’t wrap your head around.

Those were the times you wondered if your family was normal. If mom and dad fighting every day was the same for everyone else. If sisters battling against each other to be the best . . . the most loved was . . . normal.

You’d learned later that it hadn’t been, but truly seeing it every day in and out like this . . . it was . . . well . . . you were sure there were pieces of your heart beginning to wither away further and further and . . .

The Bahngs (plus Felix, if you were being honest) were a family. A real one.

And there you were, always watching them like something out of place.

It made you wonder . . . had Rosebud been the beginning of an end for your family. Was the day you were born, the day the love in your house died?

Had you screamed too loud? Had you been too fussy of a baby?

Had you drained the love from them, sucking it all up because you were just so desperately greedy for it? Were you still?

. . . If overstayed your welcome; if by the end . . . would you end up draining the Bahngs, too . . . ?

“It’ll pass . . . “ the words suddenly echoed throughout your ears, and you almost thought it was your own mind tricking you into hearing things, but then you realized . . .

You realized where you were. You realized you werent seven or thirteen or even eighteen, still being your family’s shadow. No, now you were twenty-one, left in a strange country with no overbearing mother, no absent father, and no perfect sister. You were alone, yes, tucked into your bed in the Bahng household, but you weren’t entirely alone, because on the other side of the room laid someone you used to know; someone you couldn’t quite remember; someone who was now staring at the ceiling with you.

The lights were off save for your lamp which you had your hand resting on for probably a while now as your mind drifted somewhere . . . else. While . . . Felix endured the light, kind enough not to bother you until . . . now.

It’ll pass, he had said, and you knew what he meant.

When you first arrived to Southhaven, Chris had told you Felix was living with them because of what happened to his parents; because he had lost them a year ago. You never asked what had happened. You never planned to, but given that . . . and him being witness to you literally puking your guts right in front of him, you could guess he knew your mother was gone, too, and you weren’t exactly . . . handling it well.

It’ll pass, he’d said, but what did he mean? What would pass?

You could never get over this if that was what he meant. You weren’t strong like that. Your sister was. She could handle this . . . but you . . . nothing was every temporary with you. Once you’d experienced something, once you’d had something; once you felt it . . . it all stayed with you. Even your first heartbreak . . . you didn’t have to still be in love with him to remember what it had done to you; what it had made you become. The thing was: there was no without with you; everything stayed and you were always changed, never the same again.

“Let me guess . . . “ Felix began again once he realized you weren’t going to respond, or rather . . . couldn’t respond.

You swallowed hard, awaiting.

“They asked if you were OK?” he asked, his voice a little softer now.

Your brows twitched. “Yes.”

And you could have sworn you heard him sigh across the room as if . . . as if the question bothered him, too. And then: “Fuckin’ hate when they do that . . . Threw up the first time, too,” he murmured. “You’re not alone.”

Oh . . .

You hadn’t expected that. You knew he must have felt what you were feeling once, too. Maybe he still did, but . . . It’ll pass, he’d said, but no! No! Losing your parents . . . It was like losing everything you had ever known, including yourself.

You’d been so rude to him, too when you knew how this felt. You knew how immobilizing it was. You knew what it did to a person, and you had still said those things.

And yet . . . there he was . . . comforting you . . .

Only then did you turn to face him, finding that he was still staring at the ceiling. “Felix?”

He turned, eyes meeting yours. “Mmm?”

Wetting your lips, your eyes searched his. “Thank you.”

Felix smiled. It was small . . . lacking, but . . . there. “Room full of orphans,” he nearly whispered, the smile still there. “Gotta’ stick together, right?”

And then . . . you began to smile, too. It was small . . . lacking, but . . . there, just like his. It was enough. It was all you had. Perhaps it was all he had, too.

The lights were out a second later, leaving the two of you in the dark silence. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon, and you wondered if he was the same.

There was a period after your mother’s death when you couldn’t sleep.

It started with just a few less hours of sleep where you’d just stare at the ceiling, listening to your old clock tick seconds, minutes, hours by while you just laid in silence. You’d never known it could be so loud—the silence—until she was gone.

That should’ve been comforting, right? How even in the silence no one is ever truly alone, but it always managed to make you feel . . . worse . . . small. It made the world seem so much greater than you or your family or anything you had ever cared about. It made her death seem like just another number to add to the end of year tally.

It made everything seem meaningless.

So you laid awake . . . and listened . . .

Eventually, you’d let yourself blink just for a second of nothingness, and then you’d roll over, letting sleep take you. Until it was two weeks after your mother’s burial, and you began to realize it had been two days since you’d slept.

Two days of continued nothingness; of being in that house without your mother; of breathing when she no longer could.

You supposed that was when it started—when you began to hear her voice in the wind; when you convinced yourself that you were seeing her out of the corner of your eye; when you started wondering if maybe just maybe there was a chance you’d see her again in some form or another.

When you finally did sleep that following night by some miracle, you dreamt of her. You dreamt of her at the kitchen table with a plate stacked full of all the foods she loved. You dreamt of her warm smile. You dreamt of her gentle hand brushing the tangles out of your hair. You dreamt of her . . . and when you awoke, your eyes were sore and your cheeks were damp.

You supposed you should’ve talked to someone. Your sister, perhaps, but . . . your family was never one for . . . talking. (She wouldn’t know what to say anyway. Erin was perfect, yes, but she had no bedside manner.)

So the sleepless nights went on.

And when the semester started up again, two nights of no sleep turned into three, then four, until you stopped taking note of what nights you slept and what nights you didn’t.

You tried to ignore the depersonalization. You tried to ignore how you clung to your mother’s clothes, wearing them to class and even when you slept. You tried to ignore the need to be called by your middle name . . . her name. You tried to make it seem normal . . . but . . .

Then the hallucinations started.

At first it was in your bathroom mirror . . . then more whispers in the wind which turned to straight up conversations you thought you were having with her. And then . . . then you started to see glimpses of her on campus. In the beginning, it was people you didn’t know—people you’d just pass by while walking to class . . . but as the days and the nights became longer, you’d see her in your roommates, your friends . . . Jisung . . . even Hyunjin.

And you weren’t proud, you weren’t even sure if it even happened, but you’d been in the library one day, and you’d seen . . . her, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

. . . Apparently, you’d attacked someone in the library, screaming at them to tell you what they wanted from you. (You didn’t find this out until you woke up in Hyunjin’s bed the next morning and he’d explained the entire thing . . . not leaving out the fact that you’d passed out immediately after, but maybe that had just been in your imagination, too? Right? Because you really couldn’t have done that to someone? Right . . . ? . . . )

Between the attack and your failing grades, the news reached your father in no time. You’d take fault for the grades. You’d own that . . . but the attack; the sleepless nights . . . you didn’t want to know you were capable of that. (But the sleeping pills that were forced down your throat every night after the attack were proof enough that something wasn’t . . . right.)

You knew what this meant. You knew what that made you, and you didn’t know how to accept that. (You supposed you didn’t know how to accept most things.)

Sleeping was easier now, albeit, the dreams you had were just as excruciating as those days you’d hallucinate seeing her on the street . . . but at least you knew what was reality and what was not. (There had to be an upside in that. There had to be.)

It had been a month since then. The end of December now. In Southhaven where your winter was their summer and the weather was gentle, not the harsh rain and snow you were used to.

Now you could sleep, and dream of her, yes, but you’d wake up every morning and she wouldn’t be in your mirror. Now you woke, turned to the side, and glanced at a boy who seemed to be holding onto just as much as you were, and you’d be a liar if you said that didn’t interest you.

Because you wanted to know; you wanted to know if losing yourself this much after losing someone was . . . normal. Because truly, either everyone felt this way even just a little bit, or you were completely and utterly alone . . . and you were sure that would be the thing to kill you.

But there was no way you could admit this; there was no way you could ask him what he meant by his little ‘It’ll pass’; there was no way you could ask him when it would pass. So, for the time being, you watched him in silence as you had watched everyone growing up.

This was normal for you anyway. When you were a kid, drifting through middle school and high school alone, you used to watch the people around you. You used to watch how they acted around each other; how their social media posts matched . . . how their smiles matched in them, too. You used to yearn for that—to be liked like that; to have people like that; people that wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with you.

It didn’t help that your sister always had someone over, whether it was friends to boyfriends. You used to watch her, too. You’d sit in the armchair while she chatted with her friend on the phone, lying horizontally on the couch. You’d hang around in the kitchen when she’d have her friends over for pool parties, sleepovers . . . whatever . . . and she’d always shoo you off, but you wouldn’t go far. No, you’d wait on the staircase, tucked behind the railing as you listened to them laugh.

And when you’d finally asked Erin if you could join them next time . . . she declined. We are sisters, not friends. Get your own friends, and stop scaring mine away, she’d said, and you understood.

You never did end up finding any friends, of course (well, at least not until university but . . . you know . . . ); instead, you figured out how to make yourself invisible. And so . . . a shadow you became, learning how to communicate with other people through conversations that weren’t your own.

You learned how to read people; how to tell them what they wanted; how to know what to do when no one else did. (You supposed it all went to shit when your mother died and you realized you could watch people and watch people but you’d never be able to figure yourself out; you’d never be able to help yourself.)

Whatever . . .

The point was: learning about people from afar had always been familiar to you, and when it came to Felix, you decided it was better to watch him in silence than speak with him. He was just that type of person, you had gathered.

Now, you knew how it sounded, but people watching wasn’t like flat-out stalking (Ok . . . you could admit it wasn’t exactly the sanest thing to do but . . . whatever.). Listen, listen, you just so happened to end up waking up when Grace would call you, letting her drag you wherever she wanted because maybe she had grown on you a little over the past few weeks. And most of the time, Grace would take you down to the beach where her brother and his friends apparently liked to surf (well, where everyone in this town preferred to surf) and sometimes Felix would join.

So, were you keeping a close eye on him, curious about everything that he was and who he had been to you in the past? . . . Yes.

And the days he wouldn’t show, you wondered where he’d go. No one ever mentioned it. He never said a word about it, and you were left wondering.

Maybe he was off to that sandy beach just below the Bahng residence. You just didn’t know . . . and that bothered you more than you wanted it to.

And those days that he didn’t show, you’d taken to drawing in your sketchbook. God, fine, you’d taken to drawing him. But, but, listen, the only reason you were was because of what you had seen your first week in this godforsaken place—his scar.

Perhaps that was what had entranced you. Or maybe it was the past you knew which included him but couldn’t quite figure out the rest of the pieces. Or maybe . . . maybe it was him who intrigued you.

Fine . . . like Hyunjin had said on the phone last night . . . maybe you had a small crush on him. Like . . . maybe . . .

You couldn’t help it. He was just so . . . so . . .

. . . you didn’t even know.

Whatever . . .

Anyway . . . today was different. Grace woke you up early, yes, but when you finally stepped outside twenty minutes later, you found the entire Bahng family dressed and ready to go. Irene was busy trying to shove all the beach bags and surfboard and towels and sunblock into the trunk of her minivan, while Monty was already dabbing Grace’s face with sunblock and Chris . . . well . . . he was in the front seat, waiting for everyone to hop in so he could drive.

And you, you stood stuck in the doorway, watching this family be . . . a family while you . . . you had . . . no one. You could have sworn you heard your heart break a third time in your life, but before the floodgates could open, a hand had clasped your shoulder. You turned, in shock, and there he was—Felix.

With a squeeze of your shoulder and a small smile, he nodded toward the minivan, gesturing for you to follow him. And with that, you, and Felix, who was seated behind you in the very last row, climbed into the car. He sat there alone, too, and you couldn’t help but watch him out of the rearview mirror the entire trip, wondering why he had taken the back seat and not you.

That . . . that was about an hour ago. Now . . . now you were the one sitting alone on your beach towel, sketchbook in hand and a pencil in the other as you drew the scene in front of you. While you drew, you desperately tried not to throw your pencil down and flip to the page where you had drawn Felix’s scar.

A call of your name tore you from your sketchbook as you glanced up finding Grace just a few feet from you, holding up a rather large seashell and waving it around to show you. You couldn’t help but smile at her. A real smile, too. Wide and toothy and just like your mother used to get out of you.

Because you couldn’t help it; not when you looked at Grace a little too long and found that she was only a fourteen-year-old kid and reminded you a little too much of who you used to be at that age.

So you smiled, and she grinned back wider before going back to shell searching. And you . . . you watched with that small smile on your face before your eyes slowly flicked back down to your sketchbook and you began to draw the scene before your eyes once again.

Only this time, as you were about to shade, another voice drew you from your mind. Only this time, the voice was much deeper and coming toward you. Only this time, it was Felix calling your name. Only this time, you quickly slammed your sketchbook shut before he could catch sight of what you had been drawing. Only this time, you looked up in horror, trying to act normal but completely failing as you made eye contact with . . . him.

It seemed Felix had caught onto this, too, but instead of mentioning it, he only bit back a grin. And you swallowed hard, shifting slightly as you realized he was going to sit beside you on the towel.

His hair, blonde with dark roots, was wet, and he was wearing a rash guard this time, unlike the first time you saw him. But he still looked . . . good. You could admit that, because well, he just had this . . . way . . . about him . . . but . . . whatever . . .

As he sat down beside you and released a gruff sigh, a few water droplets flicked onto your own bare arms, catching your attention immediately. You blinked at it, unmoving.

A beat of silence.

Then:

“Gracie seems smitten with you,” he mumbled your way.

Your eyes finally snapped from the water droplets sliding down your arm to your lap where your sketchbook lay. “I guess,” you muttered back, fingers playing with the edges of the sketchbook.

“Chris won’t say it. He’s too fixed on you being, like . . . different or whatever . . . but . . . just . . . thank you for being kind to her. I know she comes on strong, but that’s—“ he waved his hand in the air, exhaling sharply— “The kids around here are . . . “ he swallowed audibly that time, and sighed once more before continuing, “awful, so . . . keep up the good . . . work?”

And that time, as his words left his lips, you could have sworn you saw him grimace at what he’d said. And that . . . that got a small, barely audible, barely even noticeable, laugh out of you.

But when he glanced up to meet your gaze, unsure of if he’d heard you correctly, you quickly covered up your amusement, wiping the grin off your face. Instead, when his eyes met yours, you only nodded in response, giving him a small, tight smile.

Felix, however, had caught your little laugh. You knew he did, and he knew you knew. So it was a no-brainer when one side of his mouth tipped into a half-grin as he shook his head. “You don’t say much, do you?” he mused, scooting a little closer, but not close enough for it to seem deliberate.

Wetting your lips, you mumbled, “Not much to say.”

Felix nodded, leaning away from you once again, and you thought you’d lost his attention, but then: “Do you like the ocean?”

You blinked. Why was he so interested? Had he found out about your drawings? Was he taunting you? No, no, that . . . that was stupid. But—No.

You quickly shook your head, then released a sigh. “Um . . . I guess,” you said, nearly under your breath as you shrugged. “I haven’t been this much since I was a kid.”

“Is it weird being back then?”

“I don’t know.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, not in a menacing way or anything like that but almost as if he were considering your response. But he didn’t dwell long as he switched the conversation. “What’s it that you’re drawing anyway?” he abruptly asked, gently tapping your sketchbook.

You blinked . . . again. Shocked . . . again. “Nothing,” you quickly tried to cough out, “just . . . nothing important. It’s shit.”

His brows twitched, his head tilting to the side as he took you in. “Nah, you’re just—“ he cut himself off, shaking his head, but his eyes never left you. He continued on searching your face as he spoke. “We’re our own worst critics, you know?”

You glanced at his nose, then his cheeks, and finally at a freckle that oddly seemed to resemble a heart before you decided that yes, you would like to draw this next—him like . . . this. “Just a realist,” you hummed out, still completely in your own mind as your eyes danced over his features.

“OK, maybe you are,” Felix said with a shrug. And then he was leaning in again, chin in the palm of his hand. “Draw me then. It’s my face. I know it well. If it looks like me, you pass. If not, you gotta hand over the pencil.”

Oh . . .

You swallowed your words.

If only he knew . . .

But instead the words that spilled from your lips were: “And if I don’t want to draw you?”

Felix shrugged, unbothered. “Then . . . draw yourself for me.”

Your brows raised. “And if I don’t want to do that either?”

Another beat of silence.

Then, Felix laughed through his nose. He was staring at you again, kind eyes and a small smile on his lips. “Alright then . . . What do you love, sad eyes? Hmm?” he asked, his voice low.

What do you love?

You didn’t know anymore.

But you had loved something once. You knew you had.

Sunsets. The smell of sunscreen. Sand under your fingertips. Sea water on the tip of your tongue. Cherry Cherry saltwater taffy. And a hand in yours.

“Got it?” Felix asked again, tearing you from a past you couldn’t even remember. “OK . . . now draw that.”

Sunsets. A hand in yours.

You sighed, your next words shocking even you, “What if it’s something . . . intangible?”

“Then how can you draw it wrong?”

How can you draw it wrong? he’d asked you, but you couldn’t respond, because you didn’t know. You didn’t even know what the memories meant. How could you even begin to draw them?

And just as you were about to write him off again, the sound of Grace’s soft laughter echoed throughout your ears. Without any forethought, your head snapped in the other direction, eyes quickly finding her . . . and . . . Chris and . . . Monty . . . even Irene.

It seemed that Monty and Chris had snuck up on Grace, grabbing her before she could realize it, then taking off into the ocean, their laughter in the air. All the while . . . Irene stood where the water met the land, a wide smile on her face as she softly chuckled at their antics.

And you realized something else then. That is what you would’ve drawn. That is what you loved.

Your family had never been a good one, but it was yours. Even your father hadn’t been so bad when you were younger and unaware. You still felt loved by him when you didn’t know the world. And back then, when you thought their fighting was normal, you still came together at the end of the night and watched movies as a family.

That was the last time you remembered being truly . . . happy, and you couldn’t quite place when that all stopped . . .

You thought you’d miss it forever. And you knew that . . . that was what you loved most in the world—a family that didn’t exist anymore . . . perhaps a family that never did.

And yet here were the Bahngs, and they had what you wanted most in the world. They had it effortlessly, too.

Fuck. You swallowed the quickly forming lump in your throat, realizing a little too late that your body and your mind were too many steps apart. Your hands had begun to shake, and before you knew it, that queasy feeling in your stomach was back. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You needed to get out of there.

That was your motive. You quickly stood to your feet, sketchbook still in hand as you tried everything not to look Felix in the eyes. “Sorry, um . . . “ you stammered out. “I have to go. I have to—bathroom.”

And then you were gone, stalking off toward the minivan in hopes it was, by some chance, unlocked. You just needed a minute alone. You just needed to be alone like you always had been.

Alone, you repeated in your head as you finally made it to the minivan, your breathing uneven and shaky. Alone, you begged as you grabbed onto the door handle, pulling repeatedly. Alone, you all but cried as you realized there was no way the door was going to magically unlock just for you. Alone, you knew as you fell against the car, silently crying into the crook of your arm.

It could have been hours that you were standing there, silently mourning a family you could’ve had and a mother you never would. It could have also been seconds, but you did know that you wished you were back home with Hyunjin and Jisung and New York with its cold weather and noisy traffic. At least then you wouldn’t be reminded of the family you didn’t have.

And once you had finally calmed your breathing, you glanced up at the sun, your eyes swollen from crying, and sighed. Is this what your life was now? Is—

The clearing of a throat tore you from your mind, but you didn’t jump. You already knew who it was. You could tell by just the sound of his voice.

“You don’t have to stay, Felix,” you sighed as you remained facing the sun, not wanting him to see you like . . . this. You just wanted to be alone like you had always been. You just wanted him to leave, but then . . . you refused to tell him this. You refuse to tell him to leave, and perhaps . . . perhaps you wanted him to stay or perhaps you were truly going crazy again.

“There’s no bathroom here,” Felix mumbled after a minute, his voice lacking as he ignored your previous words.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you nodded. “Yeah . . . “

With that, Felix stayed silent, just watching you as you wished for the ground to swallow you whole. But it didn’t and you stayed put, realizing this someone you used to know was seeing you at your very worst—tears, snot, and all.

And with a heavy sigh, you let it happen. You let everything fall away just for a second as you sunk to the ground, eyes closed as you leaned with your back up against the minivan.

But what did surprise you was the fact that a few seconds later, you heard Felix step toward you, and then . . . then he was sitting down right beside you.

You didn’t dare look at him. You weren’t even sure if you could. Instead, your eyes fluttered open, small tears rolling down your cheeks as you quickly brushed them away, keeping your gaze trained on the sandy parking lot.

Felix didn’t speak either, and you quickly realized he was waiting for you to say something first. He was waiting for you to do it yourself when you were ready.

And when you finally were ready, you clutched your sketchbook closer to your chest, before you spoke. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry by the way,” you found yourself saying before you could come up with a different response. “For that day; the first day we met. It’s not right . . . but sometimes I just say things. I don’t know why. I never mean it.”

You knew it was almost a month too late. You knew he probably didn’t give a shit now, but you had a habit of clinging onto things, and well, it had never left your mind.

So the words you said, you meant, and you hoped he knew that. You hoped he could feel it in your voice.

And when he didn’t respond, you glanced up, brows pinched upward, only to find he was already looking at you. But only when your eyes met his, did he smile, and you realized he had still been waiting for you.

That was when he spoke—when he had your eyes on him. “And I told you, it’s alright,” he hummed, his voice deep yet . . . soft. “There’s the American way, then there’s the better way . . . Australian. So this . . . this is my way of showing you a little bit of Australian hospitality. Water under the bridge, yeah?”

But you didn’t respond. You didn’t even nod. You couldn’t. How could he be so . . . so . . . kind?

No one had ever been so . . .

No one had ever . . .

No one . . .

Felix seemed to catch onto this with just another glance at your face. “Look . . . “ he began, his features contorting into questioning, “if you need it to be forgiven, it’s already done. It’s—”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you couldn’t help but ask, cutting him off for the first time. “It doesn’t make any sense. You don’t even know me.”

A deafening beat of silence.

Beat.

Was that your heart or his?

Beat.

Then, a sigh from Felix. His brows twitched, his eyes squeezing shut and he tongued his inner cheek. “There are certain things no one should have to go through alone,” he slowly began, his words slow yet still so . . . so soft. His eyes fluttered open a second later, and you saw his words before he spoke them. “Losing your mother is one of them.”

Your body became limp at his words, your sketchbook falling to your lap, but your hands stayed locked firmly around it. Felix noticed this, his eyes flicking down to where the black sketchbook lay. He pursed his lips, then nodded, and you waited, knowing he knew.

“You draw dead things . . . “ Felix mumbled a second later, his eyes still trained on the sketchbook in your lap.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you knew there was no running from him now, because he knew. He knew.

Grief made people do tricky, sick things, and you knew this well. It had turned you into another person, and in your downfall, you’d taken to a new . . . hobby—drawing dead things.

You didn’t quite know why, you just knew that when you’d stumble across those poor pigeons hit by cars or those squirrels and moles and mice that cats liked to leave on your doorstep, you always took pictures of them, later drawing them in your sketchbook.

It was the only thing that managed to make you feel better, because there it was—death.

Death had taken your mother, and it would surely take you, too, but if you drew it maybe you could have something over it. Maybe . . . maybe if you made death into art then . . . then you wouldn’t cry every time you heard your mother’s voice in the whispers of the wind.

And at the beach, you’d heard your mother’s voice, you’d felt the wind, and then you’d seen the poor fallen seagull as the current carried its lifeless body to and fro. You couldn’t stop yourself from sketching it while everyone else was busy in the water. But Felix had caught a glimpse of it when he approached you on the beach. Now, you knew he had.

Your sick little secret was no more. Felix . . . had been the only one to uncover it.

That you couldn’t run from.

So, instead, with a heavy sigh, you released your tight grip on the sketchbook, and whispered, “Yes.”

With the release of your words, you couldn’t help it, you grimaced in preparation, wondering when he’d leave you, too. Because he would. That was just how things went.

But . . . it wasn’t disgust which he met you with. No, instead . . . instead, he shifted in his spot and then you saw it—his hand was now resting on his knee, palm up with his fingers spread, and you finally realized what he was offering you.

You glanced at his hand, fully now, and swallowed hard. He was holding out his hand for you to grasp.

But you stayed frozen, unmoving, unsure.

Until . . .

“You don’t have to . . . but . . . “ Felix began, his deep voice a little hoarse now. “When I was a kid, I had problems falling asleep. Nightmares, you know . . . kept me up half the night. And my mom . . . she’d stay up with me trying everything. Glass of warm milk, counting sheep, whatever. Most of the time we’d just stay up watching TV until I eventually knocked out. But there were times when nothing would work . . . so eventually she’d put me to bed and say that she’d be there the entire night, holding my hand, so even if I had a nightmare, it’d be OK . . . and . . . every time . . . I’d wake up and my hand would still be in hers.”

Finally, his eyes met yours.

Your brows twitched, eyes searching.

“I was able to sleep after that,” he mumbled once more, offering up a small smile. It was lacking but it was there, and it meant something. It meant something. “No more nightmares. I guess I felt . . . safe.”

A beat of silence.

Or maybe it had been your heart pounding in your chest.

Beat.

Then . . . you shakily placed your hand in his. Warmth at your fingertips. Sunsets. Cherry Cherry saltwater taffy. A hand in yours.

With a complacent sigh, you let the incomplete memory in as you slowly threaded your fingers through his, securing your hand tightly in his.

Sunsets. A hand in yours. His hand in yours. His hand.

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