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Beauty | kth - Chapter 6.2

Pairing: Taehyung x OC (Reader) , slight Jimin x OC

Genre/Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Idiots to lovers (kinda), single dad; humor (-ish?), slow burn, angst, fluff, smut

Chapter Warnings: Foul language, bloody lips (Taehyung throwing some punches y'all), heartbreak, use of alcohol, mentions of dog attack and emotional distraught after, anxiety, low self-esteem

Word count: 12.7k

Series summary: Taehyung knows what beauty is. He sees it every day.

You feel like you haven’t seen real beauty in a while but you think you remember what it looked like.

Or maybe you both have no idea?

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Chapter 6.2

Making the decision to suddenly leave Busan overnight is one thing. Somehow telling your parents about your plans without them asking questions that might make you sweat is an entirely different matter.

And you're experiencing that right at this moment.

“You said you’re going to leave next week. Why does it have to be so urgent all of a sudden?“ Your Dad asks, making a grim face.

“Dad, I already told you.“ You sigh, getting frustrated. “I have a job, and they need me to come back soon.“ A little white lie never hurt anybody, right? “Also, you guys won’t let me do anything for you, so what’s the reason for me to be here any longer?“ You ask while packing your stuff together.

Your Dad scoffs, probably sensing your bullshit even if you were miles away, “So what, your bosses just realized they can’t manage without you for a few more days?“ He asks, obviously calling out your lie.

You simply shrug your shoulders, trying to not let your nervousness show. “They just have a lot on their minds, and it slipped. It has probably happened to you before too.“

“It hasn’t, actually.“ He shortly replies to you, making you roll your eyes.

“Leave her alone, darling. I’m sure she has her reasons.“ Your Mum suddenly chimes in after staying surprisingly quiet for the last couple of minutes. When you look at her, she gives you a suspicious wink, which you can’t quite assign.

“Okay, thanks, Mum but what’s with the weird wink?“ You can’t help but ask.

Your mother simply grins mischievously. “Well, I didn’t actually want to say anything in front of your Father but could your sudden departure have something to do with the nice young man you video chatted with yesterday?“ She suddenly asks, making your mouth fall open instantly while your dad just looks confused.

“Wha— Mum! Did you really just sneak up on me last night and overheard me having a private chat with a friend?“ You ask in total disbelieve.

Obviously not seeing anything wrong with her behavior, she only shrugs and smiles brightly. “I actually just happened to walk past your room when I heard voices. Your door wasn't closed, and I just peeked inside and saw that you were video chatting with someone,“ She explains, “don’t worry, I haven't heard any details from your conversation. I just saw you talking to someone and then left.“

You’re just about to say something when she suddenly starts speaking again, “But the good-looking face has not escaped my sight.“ She winks.

Even if you have nothing to hide and are no longer of the age at which you still have to justify yourself in this regard to your parents, you can feel yourself getting warm and your cheeks gain color. After almost seven months in which you live all by yourself, without anyone else, at some point, you stopped closing the doors, and this is what you get now.

“Wait wait wait, who is she talking about?“ Your dad now asks, finally catching on and growing curious himself. “I didn’t think you’d be dating again so soon, but I think that’s great! I'm happy you moved on.“

You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration, “we’re just friends, okay? There’s nothing else going on between us.“ You clarify, making your parents look at you expectantly. “I actually look after his daughter when he’s at work.“

Your Mum’s face falls as soon as you explain the situation. “He’s married? That’s a shame, he seemed so nice, and he sounded like he really cares about your well-being.“ She pouts.

Amused by her statement, you raise a brow in question. “Oh did he now? I thought you didn’t hear anything from our conversation?“ You smirk, thinking you caught her lie.

“I said I didn’t hear any details. Of course, I heard something, I in fact am not deaf yet, ___.“ Your Mum simply shrugs.

“Well, to your information, Taehyung isn’t married anymore, and his daughter’s mother isn’t around, which is why I have agreed to help whenever I can.“ You explain.

“So you’re working as a nanny?“ Your Mum asks further, helping you fold some of your clothes.

“Not really. I don’t take any money from him, actually. It’s a long story on how it came to this but to keep it short, his daughter — Hyejin is her name — she somehow took a liking to me, and she’s the cutest little girl you’ve ever seen! Wait I'll show you—,“ you quickly take your phone out, showing the photo, Taehyung sent you the day before to your parents. Both of them agree with you, chuckling slightly at the cute pose she makes in that photo.

“Oh, if that isn’t a little princess.“ Your Mum coos, making you nod in agreement.

“Yes, she’s a little gem.“ You smile, cherishing every picture Taehyung ever sent you in the past week, making you miss them even more. “Anyway, he lives together with his best friend, and strange enough, none of them seem to have any girlfriends or friends that are girls, so I think she just enjoys having me around, I don’t know.“

“That sounds just like you.“ Your Mother smiles a little, looking at you.

“What?“

“All of this.“ She says. “Helping those people out without asking for anything in return.“ She says.

“No, that’s not how I see it, Mum.“ You shake your head. “I really enjoy looking after Hyejin — and fair enough even the guys because lord, I don’t know how they survived all these years — and I don’t care at all that I don’t get paid with money because they actually give me way more by letting me be one of them and join their little group of friends.“ Forming all your thoughts and feelings for these people into words is hard enough but explaining it all to your parents without them thinking you're doing it because you have a helper syndrome, is way harder.

“Even if it sounds incredibly cliche, I actually do get paid, just not with money.“ You shrug. “And that’s so cool because they make living in a strange city far away from you guys so much easier.“ You grin.

“Well, dating or not, you look content and happy, and that’s all we want for you.“ Your Mum says, smiling at your bright face. “And everything else will come with time.“ She adds.

While you spend your time packing your bags with the help of your Mum in peace, somebody else, not that far away, is about to go crazy after having spent all night awake.

Hoseok sits at the small kitchen table, a hot cup of coffee in his hands, looking down into the cup and desperately trying to keep calm – while Jimin is about to lose his mind, pacing from one side of the room to the other.

“I don’t know why you just won’t believe me, Hobi. I swear, it was her. It was her!“ He says, nearly tearing his hair out.

With every time he repeats his guess, Hoseok shrinks more and more in his seat. This is a disaster. He knows Jimin won’t just let it slip because he’s waiting to talk to you for almost seven months now, and he might've just found a new drive to do that.

“But it could’ve been someone who merely looked like her. You can’t say for sure that it was her because you said she was standing far away.“ He tries to reason, wanting to shake the possibility out of Jimin’s head.

“No! It was her! I am a hundred percent sure, okay?“ Slowly but surely, Jimin gets a little annoyed by his best friend. It’s not like you’re just anyone who’s easily mistaken. But even if you didn’t have those scars, he’d immediately recognize you amongst millions.

You’re not just anyone. Not to him, you aren't.

“She was looking straight at me, Hobi. I could literally feel her looking at me. That’s when I looked at her too, and I swear at that moment, I could feel the connection between us,“ Jimin desperately tries to explain. “And I warrant you she felt it too.“

Hoseok feels like he’s about to be sick. Not because Jimin’s words are so incredibly cheesy, he has to puke (and they are), but because he feels like a total douchebag, having to lie to his best friend. He feels like he’s betraying him, and he knows Jimin would never forgive him for keeping him from talking to you. But he also promised you something, and as hard as it is right now, he can’t betray you once again.

“Jimin, be a little realistic, will you? It probably wasn’t ___ but some other girl, who you accidentally mistook for her because you miss her.“

He hates himself.

Looking at his best friend’s face crumble doesn’t make it any easier. “I really have no idea why you so desperately try to put this idea of me just seeing some random stranger in my head, but you won’t change my mind. I know that I’ve seen her.“ Jimin once again says, voice just growing very quiet now, that he finally understands that Hoseok won’t support him this time. “If it really wasn’t ___, which it was, why would she have run away from me when I tried to get to her?“ He then asks, expectantly waiting for Hoseok’s answer.

The older boy just shrugs, no longer knowing what to say. “Okay listen, even if it was ___—“ Hoseok stops for a second to think about if what he wants to say is really a good idea but he doesn’t know what else to say anymore so he sticks to the truth and searches for the right words, to say what he has to say. “Even if it was ___… She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have run away, don’t you think?“ He asks, trying to avoid Jimin’s sad eyes to keep his guard up.

“She… She was probably just overwhelmed.“ The younger boy sighs, “Look, the way I see it, she wanted to see me and that’s why she came to the spot, hoping I’d be there but when she actually saw me there, seven months after not seeing or talking to me, she probably panicked.“ He shrugs.

Hoseok can’t believe it. How can someone actually be so delusional?

“I followed her to the parking lot, but I lost her there. I don’t know where she went to, but I called her a million times after that. She obviously didn’t pick up because I’m blocked.“ He then sighs. “So I drove by her parent’s house…“

Hoseok suddenly chokes on his spit. “Are you crazy?!“ He exclaims, looking at Jimin as if he grew two heads. “So you’re stalking her now? What the fuck, bro you have to be absolutely insane. What if her Dad had seen you? I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re not exactly welcome there anymore.“ He snaps, trying to get some sense into his friend’s head.

“I know.“ Jimin sighs, remembering the time where he was always welcomed at your parent’s house. “Nobody saw me though. Calm down. I only checked to see if she’s there, but I didn’t see anything.“

“Man, that’s not okay.“ Hoseok sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. “Chim, you can’t just drive by her parent’s house and watch it through our car window in hopes of her coming out of the door. You do realize that’s peak creep behavior, don’t you?“ He asks further, starting to judge his friend’s mental state.

Jimin rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed with Hoseok’s constant disagreement regarding his ways of trying to talk to you. He doesn't know firsthand what he's going through for the past months, so he should just hold back a little with his accusations. “I didn’t stalk her, Hobi. I was just… curious.“ He shrugs.

“Oh great, and what if she actually would’ve come out of the house?“ Hoseok asks.

Jimin pauses, thinking about his answer, “I don’t know,“ he sighs, “I seriously do not know. I want to talk to her so bad, but I get that she probably doesn’t feel the same way right now.“

Hoseok nods, thinking Jimin may finally understand the issue. “She just needs time. And if that’s really all there is for you to do now, then… Give her time.“ He suggests.

“Is half a year not enough time though?“ Jimin counters, frowning at the floor.

“It may be for you, but that doesn’t mean it is for her as well.“ Hoseok takes a huge gulp from his coffee, inspecting Jimin’s serious face. “Trying to make her talk to you when she doesn’t want that will only drive her further away, believe me. You know her too.“

Jimin does know you. He knows you close yourself off as soon as you feel pressured and caged, and he doesn’t want that. He just really needs to talk to you as long as he thinks he still has a chance in trying to fix things between you two. Half a year without seeing or hearing from you was hard enough as it is. He feels like he physically can’t wait any longer.

Since he was 16 years old, there has barely been a time where you weren’t right by his side, and even if you weren’t he could always call or text you. Now, he couldn’t reach you even if his life depended on it. You have blocked him on every single platform, and if you haven’t, you simply deleted your profile. He doesn’t have your number, he doesn’t know where you are… Well, he knows you're in Seoul because words spread easily in his group of friends but that doesn’t calm his nerves either. It’s the total opposite actually. It’s been his personal hell for over six months now, and there’s nothing that he can do about it.

He lost the person that means most to him, and it’s all his own fault. And now you’re gone, and he has no idea how he can fix it. He feels so helpless for the past months, and there’s not a single piece of hope in sight.

At least there wasn't until yesterday.

When he saw you at the beach yesterday, at the exact same spot where you always were together, he thought it’d be some kind of sign. You were there, and you looked at him, and he noticed you before you could leave — that just has to mean something, doesn’t it? So he did what anyone would’ve done in his place, which is run after you, and if it wasn’t for these stupid people who blocked his way, he would've caught you.

But he didn’t, and just like that, you’re gone again without any possibility to reach you.

It’s giving him a headache.

“So, what do you think I should do then?“ He asks Hoseok, absolutely wretched at this point.

Hoseok is at a loss for words himself though. He doesn’t know what to say to him because he feels like he’s just making it worse for him, and to be fair, he probably is. There isn’t anything else he can advise him to do though. “Honestly, I have no idea,“ he starts, cringing at the way Jimin’s face falls again. “But if you really care for her and her feelings, you’ll simply have to give her the time she needs. Don’t follow her or try to make out where she is, Chim. That won’t do any good. Let her come to you. And believe me, she will. She’s not the type of person to just leave things unresolved.“

Jimin stays quiet after that. He’s obviously not happy with his friend’s suggestion, though he knows he’s right. And at the end of the day, it’s the only thing he can do anyway.

“How is she doing, is she okay?“ He suddenly asks Hoseok, who once again chokes on his coffee.

“Why do you ask me that?“ He squeaks while coughing.

Jimin smiles a little at his friend’s flustered state. He’s a terrible liar. Always has been. “Well, what kind of impression did she make on you? Is she at least happy?“

Hoseok’s mouth hangs wide open. He can’t believe his own ears. “I—I mean—I don’t…“ He stutters, seeing a grin appear on Jimin’s face.

“You saw her too, hm?“ Jimin’s gaze lies heavy on Hoseok. The older boy can’t even decide where to look, but he tries to avoid Jimin’s eyes, which is really not that easy. “You probably even had the chance to talk to her.“

Hoseok coughs again, trying to find his voice since he seems to have lost it. “How do you know?“ He quietly asks, feeling even worse now that the cat is out of the bag. It’s embarrassing that he was caught red-handed, lying to his best friend’s face. It really isn’t a nice feeling.

Jimin stays surprisingly collected, though. He's only shrugging his shoulders as he finally takes a seat at the other end of the table. “I didn’t, actually. You just told me.“ He confessed, making Hoseok almost faint right then and there. “I had a guess since you started hopelessly trying to make me think I didn’t see her. I’m guessing she asked you not to tell me, right?“ He then asks, his voice getting weaker.

Hoseok sighs loudly as he drives his hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, Jimin, I asked her to speak to you, but she almost begged me to not say anything about her visiting Busan in fear you’d come looking for her. She just isn’t ready yet.“ He confesses. It’s not like he broke his promise to you. He didn’t tell Jimin about your visit; he actually found out on his own, so what could he have done? “Please don’t be mad, man. I didn’t know what to do.“

“It’s okay, I get it.“ Jimin tries to mask a smile, in hopes of making his friend feel better about the situation, but it isn’t a real one and it doesn’t do anything because Hoseok can see right through him.

“If it makes you feel any better, yes, she did look happy, and I think she enjoys living in Seoul for the time being, but she also resembled your face when I talked about you.“ Hoseok tells him. “She clearly misses you too.“ He finishes off, waiting for his reaction.

A sad smile makes itself known on the younger man’s face as he looks at his opponent. “That’s good to hear.“ He says. “I mean, that she looked happy. That’s good to hear, not the part where she’s still hurt because of me.“ He corrects himself, making Hoseok laugh a little.

“I think she copes quite alright. She’s a strong woman after all.“ Hoseok says, trying to lighten the mood.

“But she still doesn’t want to be near me.“ Jimin only says, making him frown.

“Chim, you can’t expect her to just come running back to you after everything. You wouldn’t do that either if the roles were reserved.“ Hoseok states, and with that, he finally stands up and leaves Jimin to his thoughts, only looking back once to see his best friend frowning at the floor once again.

Hey, ___, can we possibly talk?

You look at your phone, frowning at the weird message from an unknown number. You try to go through the possible people who could’ve sent that message but lucky enough, you don’t have to think for long before another text arrives.

Oh sorry, this is Hoseok btw. I asked your Dad for your number yesterday. Hope that’s ok.

You smile when you see that it was actually Hobi who texted you. He’s right, you forgot to give him your new number even after you promised to keep in touch, but fortunately, he was smart enough to ask your Dad for it.

Hey Hobi! Sorry, I’m already on the train back to Seoul :(

You reply, growing a little nervous as you think about why he actually needs to talk to you all of a sudden. You hope it’s nothing serious but thinking back to your almost-encounter with Jimin yesterday at the beach, you guess it must have something to do with him. That actually lets the fact that you’re sitting on the train to Seoul, fill you with nothing but pure relief. Even if it sounds bad.

Hoseok doesn’t text anything else after that, so you decide to not think about it any longer and instead put your phone away to look outside the window, letting your mind wander.

Sitting locked in a stuffy train compartment for hours is not your favorite activity. To get out of the same stuffy train compartment, and be greeted warmly, makes up for all the inconvenience though.

You find Taehyung and Hyejin immediately as soon as you step out of the train because they are pretty hard to miss. A very excited, giggly Hyejin is sitting on Taehyung’s shoulders, who looks like he’s struggling to hold her while she’s happily flying her arms around to get your attention. You can’t hide the huge smile that’s been trying to break through as soon as the train doors opened.

You wave back to her and Taehyung, trying to make your way through all the people standing in your way, so Taehyung doesn’t have to. When you finally reach them, Hyejin almost jumps off of her father’s shoulders and into your arms, making you almost fall over, but Taehyung, having almost Spiderman-like skills, thankfully holds onto your waist, so you can steady your ground.

“You’re finally back!“ Hyejin screams into your chest.

“Of course, I told you I won’t be gone for long.“ You say, holding her even tighter.

“But you were gone for ages!“ She complains, making you laugh in return.

“Hyejin, I was only gone for a week, you little drama queen.“

Taehyung laughs as well while gripping her and setting her back on the ground saying that she’s too heavy for you to carry around for so long, and before you can complain and tell him that that’s not true and you actually missed hugging her, he takes her place and hugs you tightly.

You can feel him burying his face in your hair, as he holds you longer than you’d have expected. If you weren’t so happy to see them, you’d probably blush because of the close, and still a little unfamiliar proximity but instead, you lean your head on his chest and swing your arms around his back to hug him as well. You actually stay like that for a little moment until you’re interrupted by a grunting Hyejin trying to shove her Father away from you.

“You just wanted her for yourself!“ She grunts, frowning because she doesn’t have the strength to get him off of you.

You can literally feel Taehyung chuckle, when his chest vibrates, making you let go of him. “Hey, who said you’re allowed to bully her?“ You ask him, raising a brow.

“Who said she’s the only one who deserves some love, huh?“ Taehyung grins wildly, looking from you to Hyejin both standing in front of him with your arms crossed in front of your chest. “What, are you two ganging up on me now?“ He jokes.

“Looks like it.“ You shrug, “Us girls have to stand together, right Hyejin?“ You look at the little girl, proudly nodding her head, agreeing with you.

“Exactly, Daddy you don’t stand a chance when it’s me and ___ together.“ She says, raising her small fist into the sky.

Taehyung smiles at her, using his typical proud and dreamy Dad-look before he suddenly gets serious, and turns his gaze on you. “Which actually reminds me, that I have a bone to pick with you.“ He frowns.

You look at him with big eyes, not knowing what to expect because you can’t think of anything you did, that might’ve made him mad.

“Thanks to you, my daughter turned into a little brat. Literally, nothing I do is good enough for her anymore.“

You gasp loudly, immediately turning to cover Hyejin’s ears with both of your hands. “Taehyung! Don’t say that in front of her. She’s too precious!“ You scold him, frowning yourself.

“Hey, I’m only being honest, there’s no need to hide the truth, ___. She was a nightmare while you were gone.“ He exclaims, waving his arms around to get his point across.

You raise a brow in question, looking down at the pure little angel, that’s currently trying to get your hands off her ears. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Just look at her,“ You remove your hands and instead, place them on her head to play with her beautiful, dark locks. “She’s the sweetest little princess, there’s no way she gave you a hard time.“

Upon hearing you talk about her, Hyejin offers you the biggest gummy smile, making her appear to be even more wholesome.

Taehyung watches you two in amusement, shaking his head and crossing his arms while he embraces that oh-so-familiar fuzzy feeling he gets every time he watches you and Hyejin interact with each other.

“Interesting. Seems like we know two different Hyejins then.“ He jokes, making Hyejin giggle loudly and stumble further into you, as he tickles her sides. “She asked me dozens of times to call you and beg you to come home.“

“Is that so?“ You look at the little girl, who looks a little ashamed but still nods her head in agreement.

“Daddy made me look like a boy.“ She then says in a small voice. Even if she’s totally serious about her response, you can’t help but laugh wholeheartedly. Taehyung quickly follows, also seeming to find his daughter’s answer to all of this funny.

“Sounds like, I’ll have to tutor someone in basic pretty things, hm?“ You suggest, looking from an unsure Taehyung, to an excited Hyejin.

“Yes! Can you show him how to make my hair like a pretty princess?“ She asks, looking at you with big, glassy eyes.

“Sure thing, Sweety.“ You say, petting her hair.

“So I guess that’s simply set now, and I have no choice but to agree?“ Taehyung asks you, but he already knows the answer. He isn’t surprised at all when you simply wink at him in return.

“Daddy bought something for you!“ Hyejin squeals happily as soon as you all reach Taehyung’s car. Upon hearing what she says, you look to the man standing beside you, who suddenly develops a little more color to his cheeks.

With an expectant smile on your lips, you raise your brows, “Oh, did he?“

Taehyung groans, growling playfully at Hyejin, who just falls into a fit of giggles once again, making you grin as well. “So, where is it?“ You ask, jumping up and down like Hyejin always does.

“It’s nothing special, ___, don’t hype yourself up.“ Taehyung laughs, opening the back door of his car, and grabbing something in the process.“And just so you know, Hyejin picked it out. If you don’t like it, it’s her fault.“

“Okay now, that’s a low blow, you coward .“ You boo trying to see what’s in his hands, but his back is too broad so you can’t see anything. It doesn’t matter when he soon after turns around with a huge, colorful bunch of flowers in his hand.

Seriously, that thing is so huge, you can barely see his head anymore.

“You guys bought me flowers?!“ You exclaim, covering your mouth with one hand while you try grabbing the flowers from Taehyung with the other. As soon as you hold them in your embrace, you can’t help but smell the different set of flowers, giggling happily.

“Do you like it? I hope it’s okay. Hyejin said you’ll love it because purple is your favorite color, but sunflowers are your favorite type of flowers. So we just picked a bunch of purple flowers and put sunflowers around it.“ Taehyung explains, scratching the back of his neck while he nervously inspects your face.

You don’t even know what to say. You’re so touched by that cute little gesture.

“I—I can’t believe you guys bought me flowers. That’s insane!“ You stutter, still not daring to look away from the beautiful piece of art you're holding in your hands. Yes, hands. Plural because it’s very heavy. It looks like they bought a whole flower shop to put into this arrangement.

Only for you.

“Dammit you don’t like it.“ Taehyung sighs, looking at Hyejin with a frown. “See? I told you purple and yellow are ugly together, and now she looks like she’s about to cry. You seriously have no taste. How could I trust someone that wears neon yellow boots? You didn’t get that from me that much is clear.“

Hyejin doesn't seem to be very affected by her father's words though. “You wear trousers that look like Pyjama pants.“ Hyejin says in the driest tone, you’ve ever heard anyone say something. And if you weren’t about to cry, you’d probably have to laugh because of their ridiculous little banter.

God, you missed them.

When you finally find your voice and can think clearly again, you immediately fall back into Taehyung’s arms, giving him the biggest hug you can muster. All while trying to be as careful as you can so won’t crush your gift in the process.

“I love it, thank you.“ You try to say, but it comes out muffled because your face is firmly pressed against his chest.

The force of your hug makes Taehyung stumble back against his car but he doesn’t waste a single second before he returns the gesture and embraces his arms tightly around you with a big smile on his face.

“Your welcome,“ he says, “I knew you’d like it. I mean, I was just standing there, looking around, and then I looked at Hyejin and said: Oh my, Hyejin, these purple flowers remind me so much of ___ we just have to buy them for her, and they would fit perfectly with these absolutely beautiful bright yellow-orangey sunflowers because they’re her favorite.“

You laugh about his obvious lie while Hyejin loudly protests beside you.

“No, seriously, I know how pricey these things can get and this one is just—Wow. That wasn’t necessary, but I certainly appreciate it. That’s the nicest thing anyone has done for me in forever.“ You let him go so you can look at him, while his arms stay placed around you. You both don’t realize it at first though.

“It’s not that big of a deal, ___. That’s what people do when they pick a lady up from a train station, isn’t it?“

“Depends.“ You laugh a little.

Taehyung lifts a brow, looking at you. “On what?“

“Depends on what age you live in because if it’s 1920, then yeah sure, that’s what they do,“ You joke, laughing at your own stupid attempt of a joke.

“Hey, chivalry isn’t dead yet!“ Taehyung looks offended for a second, but you know it’s all just an act. “I’m a little old-fashioned when it comes to stuff like that.“

“Stuff like what?“ You tease, smirking up at him, surprising not only yourself but Taehyung as well. If he wouldn’t know any better, he’d say you’re flirting with him. But he knows the thought alone is stupid, and it probably just came out wrong.

“In a lot of things, actually.“ He grins back. “My nanny raised me to be a top-tier gentleman, just so you know.“

“Your nanny?“ You ask, interested in that little piece of information about his past.

Taehyung hasn't said much about his family since you first met him, so hearing that he was presumably raised by a nanny raises some questions inside of you.

“Yep. Her name was Sun, and she was a very well-mannered old lady with a deep lingering love for knitted socks and herbal tea,“ he says, “I learned almost everything I know from her.“

“Hmm, sounds like an international good-boy to me.“ You tease again. The expression on your face remains serious as you tilt your head a little and examine him.

Taehyung smirks, “It's funny you say that because that’s actually what she used to call me back in the days.“ He says in a low voice, winking at you.

The atmosphere around you shifted a while ago, but it’s just now that you really notice it. He still has his arms wrapped around you and is holding you tight. Very tight, actually.

Neither you nor Taehyung knows exactly what is going on and even Hyejin — who no one seemed to have noticed for a good while now, looks curious, inspecting you two.

The very heavy bouquet of flowers in your hand suddenly reminds you where you are and why. Suddenly feeling the weird air around you, you awkwardly shake Taehyung's arms off you as you try to shift the weight of the bouquet to the other arm.

“Purple and Yellow together look very pretty by the way,“ You then say, clearing your throat, “anyway I think you picked the most beautiful bouquet, I’ve ever seen, Hyejin.“

You offer the girl a big smile, and she instantly smiles back at you, blushing a little at your compliment.

“Oh, we also added a little green stuff because Yoongi said it has to be that way.“ Taehyung’s voice appears again. He tries not to let it show, but notices exactly how you suddenly distance yourself from him. Both physically and your gaze can only be found for a brief second, if at all.

“Yoongi made this?“ You ask amazed, looking at the flowers.

“Of course, do you think we'd buy flowers anywhere else?“ The playful scoff in Taehyung’s voice but especially the meaning behind his words, make you finally look at him again for more than a second as you try to overcome the embarrassment of what happened earlier.

“Yeah, he made it all pretty and big.“ Hyejin chimes in again, blushing furiously at the mention of her little crush.

You and Taehyung both grin to yourself because of her cuteness.

“Wow. If you shower me with such a warm welcome, after I've been away for just a week, maybe I should stay away from you guys more often and longer to see what happens.“ You joke, acting as if you’re serious about it.

You can't hold your serious facade, however, after your two opponents suddenly turn pale and loudly scream, "No!" in sync.

Even if you just wanted to take a shower and plainly rest after the long train journey, Taehyung insisted that you go home with them to ‘celebrate’. You really don’t feel like celebrating because you’re tired, and the little situation you had there with your ex-boyfriend, upsets your stomach. But the two tried so hard to surprise you while they were just supposed to pick you up, so you can’t bear to say no to them. You've also missed them the last few days so much that a few extra hours with them can't hurt either. So you agree, and before you know it, you’re standing at the door to their apartment.

The first thing you notice while entering is the strong smell of something burned surrounding the place, and the next is that all the lights are out and the shutters are down, so you can’t see anything.

“Why is it so dark in here?“ You look around, trying to see something, but it’s impossible in the darkness.

“I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Jungkook has something to do with it.“ You hear Taehyung mutter somewhere beside you.

Hyejin has her little arms wrapped securely around his neck while he carries her on his back after she fell tired on the car ride home and was simply too lazy to walk to the apartment. She as well tries to see something but isn't able to. Before Taehyung can reach for the light switch, so you can see something, the door falls shut behind him, and you're abruptly surrounded by pure darkness.

“Ugh dammit, Hyejin, I left the door open on purpose so we can see at least a little bit.“ He grunts at the little girl on his back.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!“ She exclaims.

You don’t like the darkness because it makes you easily nervous. That's why you try to unobtrusively approach Taehyung a bit to feel a little more comfortable while he’s looking for the light switch. But before you can reach him, you can suddenly feel someone approaching you from behind, and the next thing you know, you’re screaming while someone holds you in a tight embrace.

Panicking slightly after hearing you scream, Taehyung quickly reaches around the wall until he’s finally able to switch the light on. The first thing he witnesses is you fighting against someone who’s apparently trying to…

His eyes haven't got used to the light so quickly, so he can't really see, but Taehyung doesn’t care about that. As soon as he sees you struggling, he quickly sets Hyejin down, runs up to you, and throws — if he might say — a pretty amazing punch into the person’s face.

“What do you think you’re doing, huh? Little fucking creep.“

You try to calm a scared Hyejin down, who’s tightly pressed against your legs as you watch in awe how Taehyung beats that guy up.

The guy, already rolled up on the floor, tries to fend off the blows to his face, but Taehyung looks like he’s in a rage.

It goes on like that for a few minutes, until Namjoon walks in. He carries some bottles in his hands and stares in absolute shock at the scene that’s unfolding right in front of him.

“Taehyung, what the hell are you doing?!“ He abruptly yells.

“Quick Joon, call the police! I caught a molester!“ Taehyung only returns while he holds the guy beneath him down with his knee and secures his hands at the same time.

You’re impressed by his skills, to say the least, because if one sees him on the streets, they probably wouldn’t think of him as a fighter. He does have muscles, and he has that special face with the eyes that scream “fuck off“ as soon as he looks at someone he doesn’t know, but he still doesn’t look like he’d be able to turn full-on police officer on somebody.

Namjoon on the other hand doesn’t look even half as impressed as you do. Instead, he puts the bottles on a nearby table and darts forward, “Taehyung, that’s Jungkook!“ He rails, trying to get Taehyung to stand up.

You think you misheard, and Taehyung doesn’t look any less surprised as he stumbles away from the guy, who indeed looks a lot like Jungkook…

… Oh.

When he finally recognizes his best friend, Taehyung’s face changes from mad to surprised to absolutely furious in only a second.

“Jungkook, what the actual fuck?!“ He screams, for the first time not caring how Hyejin can hear every single word that’s coming out of his mouth.

The younger guy finally tries to get up, which turns out to be not that easy after all the blows he has received in the last few minutes, but he manages with Namjoon’s help.

“Yeah, what the fuck. I could ask you that!“ He then yells back, looking equally as annoyed. “You probably punched a few teeth out of my mouth, you fucking asshole!“ It’s just then that you see, he’s actually bleeding.

“I sure hope I did, you stupid idiot. What in god’s name were you thinking?!“ You don’t think you’ve ever seen Taehyung this mad. Not even at the time, he was angry with Jungkook for losing Hyejin.

“I was trying to surprise ___!“ Jungkook tries to defend himself, finally turning his head in your direction as he points at you, giving you the chance to see his face clearly for the first time.

“What, by trying to abduct her? Are you mentally not quite there?“

“I just wanted to hug her!“

“You probably gave her a heart attack, you stupid idiot!“

“It had a different outcome in my head, okay?!“

“How else was this supposed to turn out, huh?“

Getting tired of their useless argument and kinda worried about Jungkook’s bleeding lip, you decide to interrupt their little banter. So you step forward to Jungkook and inspect his face, making a grimace in the process because it really looks like it hurts.

“I should clean that. Get on the couch.“ You order, ignoring all the questions hanging in the air and especially Taehyung’s confused face when he sees you acting not at all mad for some reason he can't think of. Taehyung can’t understand.

“No, it doesn’t hurt. It’s okay.“

You don’t listen to Jungkook’s pleads to not clean his wound and instead guide him to the couch where you instruct him once again to sit down until he finally obeys.

The others follow you, but Namjoon takes Hyejin to the kitchen to give her something to drink because she complained about being thirsty. She really didn't care about anything else anymore after she found out that the bad guy, was solely her uncle Jungkook.

“Can’t believe how stupid you are,“ you hear Taehyung still complain as he seats himself on the other couch, so he doesn’t disturb you while you work on Jungkook’s lip. “You definitely scarred her for life. And Hyejin too, they both have traumas now.“

You keep your gaze on Jungkook but can’t help suppressing a grin. “Well, not to spoil anything, but that kinda happened already anyway, so…“

The sheer look of panic on Taehyung’s face is enough to make you fall into a fit of laughter. And Jungkook joins in soon after which, however, results in him hissing at the pain in his lip.

“I’m sorry ___, I didn’t want to… I mean, I wasn’t trying to… I didn’t mean that.“ Taehyung looks like he just wished someone a happy birthday on the wrong day, and you kinda feel bad for making him feel that way, but it's also very cute how little it took to make him react that way.

“Jesus, calm down, Taehyung. I was only joking to lighten the mood a little. You two have been acting like Tom and Jerry since the moment we walked through the door—“

“—and were attacked by that brainless imbecile.“ Taehyung finishes your sentence for you making you frown at him.

“Seriously, you don’t have to remind us about my failure for the next twenty years, Taehyung.“ Jungkook says with a muffled voice because you're currently trying to stop the bleeding.

“Wha—It literally happened ten minutes ago. Are you kidding me?!“ He helplessly looks to you, probably hoping you’d be on his side, but you only laugh and shake your head at their childish banter.

“___, is uncle Jungkook going to die?“ Hyejin asks as soon as she comes out of the kitchen to see what you’re doing, curiously inspecting Jungkook’s lip.

You smile at her and shake your head in a denying manner to answer her question.

“Not yet, at least… Let’s see what great ideas he has next week.“ You hear Taehyung mutter under his breath, but just like everyone else, you choose to ignore it.

“Speaking of great ideas, Why does the apartment smell like you set something on fire?“

At Taehyung’s question, Jungkook once again winces and shrinks in his seat as he chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah… That. Right.“

Before he can answer, Namjoon comes out of the kitchen, carrying something in his hands, but you can’t really make out what it is. “We tried to bake you some muffins.“ Namjoon resembles the look on Jungkook’s face while he looks at the smoking, black piles on the tray in his hands.

“In my defense, I just want to say that Joon was in charge of the oven while I planned the rest of the welcome,“

“You mean the kidnapping?“ This time Taehyung doesn’t look as mad anymore but grins when you all look at him in annoyance.

“I swear it wasn’t my fault. I don’t know how it happened.“ Namjoon mumbles quietly to himself.

“—I was saying,“ Jungkook glares at his friend for a second to warn him not to interrupt him again. He then sets his eyes on you again, “I’m so very sorry, everything turned out to be so bad, ___. I really just wanted to throw you a nice little get-together.“

His big, dark eyes stare right into your soul, and as you look up and see Namjoon still frowning at what was supposed to be your welcome home muffins, Taehyung also looking at you apologetically, and Hyejin not caring about anything while she already cuddled up next to you, you realize that you don't want to be anywhere else right now. This is the place where you belong now, and these are the people you want to spend your time with.

You feel welcomed and missed and appreciated, and this is exactly what you have been looking for for a long time now. You just weren’t so aware of it until now.

This is your life now, and this is your home. These are the people you want in your life and the people you don’t have the urge to flee from as soon as it gets a little awkward. This feeling you have right now overshadows everything negative you felt during your short trip to Busan, and that’s what you must cherish and think of now.

Thinking about Busan, the people and the life you left behind there and especially the business you left unfinished still leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. And it won’t go away, you know that. Not so soon and not until you face it, but it doesn’t have to be now.

Right now, you want to spend some time with the new friends in your life that actually give you the comfort you’re so desperately looking for right now.

A few hours after you gave everyone a bone-crushing hug, trying to hold back all the tears of gratitude that dared to get out, you find yourself chilling on the couch. Jungkook still sits next to you, Taehyung is on the other couch, and Namjoon is just chilling on the floor while you all eat from the Pizzas you ordered and changed your drinks from juices to alcohol as soon as Hyejin went to sleep.

You’re not that drunk yet, at least not as drunk as Jungkook, but you do feel the alcohol kicking in already.

“What do you mean you don’t usually drink alcohol?“ Jungkook gasped, looking at you with a funny look on his face.

“Well, I just don’t.“ You shrug. “I’m a control freak. I like to be in control, okay? Being drunk takes that away from me, and I don’t like that. I actually detest that feeling.“ You cringe, ironically taking another sip off your wine.

You hate wine.

“Rich people beer“ is what Jimin used to call it.

Fucking Jimin.

And there goes another gulp.

“Woah, take it easy then. We don’t want you dancing on the tables.“ Taehyung chuckles. He leans forward and carefully takes the empty glass out of your hand.

“Speak for yourself. I’m up for some dancing.“ Jungkook inserts, making you laugh way more than you usually would at his bad attempt of flirting.

Okay, maybe you are a little bit drunk.

Taehyung just rolls his eyes and instead goes to the kitchen, only to come back with two glasses of water. He puts one in front of you and the other in front of Jungkook. “Here, sober up a little, you two.“

You look at him, kinda annoyed at him for babying you, but you don’t have to say anything because Jungkook already takes that part into his own manners.

“You don’t have to go all Daddy on us, Tae. ___ might be into that, but I’m not.“

You can instantly feel yourself getting hotter by his snarky little remark. And you’re more than happy the guys probably won’t be able to tell because your cheeks are already red from the wine. But you can still see Taehyung looking at you, even if he doesn’t say anything to that. You don’t know why Jungkook’s comment makes you react like this anyway because you’re usually pretty immune against them.

It must just be the alcohol this time. See, this is why you don’t get drunk. It’s awful.

“So what was Busan like? Did you meet with any of your friends, or did you just go to help your parents?“ Namjoon swiftly asks. You’re happy someone finally changes the topic, even if it makes you think of things you’d much rather not think about right now.

“I only went to help my parents.“ You quickly answer, looking at anything but him.

“But you surely didn’t spend all your days cooped away in your parent's house, did you?“ He chuckles.

“No, I did leave the house once in a while, mind you.“ You say, glaring at him jokingly, making him chuckle.

“It’s just a little complicated back home right now.“

“Is that why you came back so soon?“ Jungkook quickly interrupts the two of you. “I mean, you were gone long enough for our liking, but we expected for you to be gone a little longer.“ He asks, looking at you expectantly.

You feel yourself growing nervous again, which makes you automatically wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans which is a habit of yours. “Yes, I guess that’s it.“ You clear your throat before taking a big gulp from your water.

You are so busy not showing how uncomfortable the topic is to you, that you don't even notice that Taehyung has already seen through your awkwardness.

“It got a little… overwhelming for me, so I decided to leave earlier.“ You shrug, finally looking up. Your eyes immediately meet Taehyung’s as he looks at you, seeming to be a little concerned.

“Wanna talk about it?“ Namjoon asks further, sensing your discomfort as well.

“Yeah, I mean, I know we’re kind of chaotic sometimes, but we are good listeners.“ Jungkook chimes in.

You smile at them, feeling better in an instant. They really seem to care about your well-being, and that’s something you need to cherish. So you decide to play with open cards. At the end of the day, they’re guys — maybe they have some advice for you.

“Ugh, it’s a long story, really. How much time do you have?“

“We have the whole night if we need it.“ Taehyung answers immediately.

You offer him a grateful smile, leaning a little forward and reach for the wine bottle. “In that case, I need more alcohol.“ After you poured everyone another glass, you take a big sip of your wine and lean back again.

“So, I guess I should start at the beginning, which would be why I moved here in the first place,“ you take a look around and play with the hem of your shirt.

“The last time I asked, you said it was because of your ex-boyfriend, and I thought it had to do with a breakup or something.“ Jungkook says, looking at you sheepishly.

You nod and confirm his suspicion. “Right, that’s what I said, and you’re not wrong, but there’s obviously more to that story.“ As you take a look around, you look in questioning but curious faces.

“Wasn't a good breakup was it?“ Namjoon questions, watching your expression.

“When are they ever good?“ You chuckle. “But yes, it was very messy, and… well, it didn’t go very smoothly.“

“Ugh, he cheated, didn’t he?!“ Jungkook abruptly yells, rising up from his seat in rage, “I knew it! What a douchebag.“

“Shhh, let her talk. Stop interrupting her all the time.“ Taehyung shushes the guys, frowning slightly. “She isn’t telling us a bedtime story. It’s her life. Be a little respectful and shut the fuck up. Keep your assumptions to yourselves.“

Jungkook gasps dramatically at his best friend’s sudden outburst but keeps quiet anyway and waits for you to continue.

“Okay, uhmm… I don’t think what he did is called cheating, no.“ You say, thinking about it yourself for a second, your drunken mind making you a little confused. It looks like you're not the only confused one left because all of them look at you with puzzled looks on their faces.

“Wait, what? How do you not know if it’s cheating?“ Namjoon asks loudly before he quickly gazes and offers an apologetic smile at Taehyung, who’s glaring again.

“It’s not cheating. I’m sure. He didn’t cheat on me, but it’s complicated.“ You sigh, already regretting your choice of telling them about your story because it’s already giving you a headache so soon.

“First, you need to know that what we had, was very special, okay?“ You state. “We were together for almost ten years. He was my first real boyfriend, and I was his first real girlfriend. I know it’s crazy because who the fuck stays together for so long with their first-ever boy- or girlfriend, right?“ You watch as the guys simply nod their heads in unison.

“And ten years that’s just— it’s incredible even for me.“ You sigh. “That’s such a long time for a twenty-six-year-old. At some point, you just share a life together, and you don’t think about losing the other person because losing them would mean losing the person you just spend a whole decade of your life with.“ You take another gulp of your wine to stop your rambling for a second. “It’s very hard, you know? So even if you come across some difficulties, and you do because that’s just inevitable, you somehow try to make it work. No matter how hard it may be.“

“Are you sure you want to continue?“ Taehyung carefully asks you after a while of silence in which you only stare into your glass, letting all the emotions bubble up at that moment.

You look up, confused about his question before you take a shaky breath and realize that the wine seems to make you more emotional than you originally feared. You definitely wouldn’t be as emotional if you were sober right now, but being the iceberg you usually are, isn’t as easy in a drunken state. At least you’re not crying though, and you don’t plan on it. You won’t let it get that far tonight.

“Yes, sorry. Just got a little lost inside my head there.“ You awkwardly chuckle.

“It’s okay, ___. Take your time.“ He then declares, building up your confidence. You’re very grateful for his kind words and all of the guy’s patience.

You struggle to find the right words because you never actually talked about it with anyone, and now you're sharing all your deepest thoughts with three handsome guys.

Well, no. That's not exactly the truth either.

You did tell Yoongi about it one night when you felt especially sad. He seemed to notice you were on the brim of tears, insisting on you telling him what's wrong. So you did.

But Yoongi is very easy to talk to. He usually appears to be very intimidating, but as soon as he sees something's wrong, he can be the greatest listener you'll ever meet. He's calm and collected, never talks much, but always says the right thing in every situation.

These guys, however, are the exact opposite. And you fear what they might think of you after you finish your story tonight.

Will they judge you?

Will they understand?

Will they side with him?

Are you overreacting? You probably are.

You try to push all your fears and second-guessing to the back of your head. They won’t judge you, you’re sure about that.

So you clear your throat and continue. “Okay, so we had that one place at the beach where we always used to hang out with friends and stuff. Jimin and I had a particularly large group of friends, and they usually used to invite other friends, and those friends took their friends along and yada yada yada, you get what I mean—“

You cut yourself off when you suddenly see Jungkook raising his hand, like a schoolboy, patiently waiting for you to pick him to ask his question.

“Is Jimin your ex-boyfriend’s name?“ He asks after you called his name like a teacher, making yourself laugh at your lame thoughts.

“Yes, that’s his name, sorry.“

Jungkook proudly grins, looking at Taehyung and Namjoon. “Knew it.“ He states.

“Awesome, genius.“ Taehyung sarcastically gives him a thumbs up resulting in Jungkook simply flipping him off.

“Anyway, I didn’t really know all of them. They were mostly his friends. I’m not that social, but he enjoyed being around people, and he always asked me to come along, so I usually ended up going as well.“

“That sounds exhausting.“ Jungkook groans.

“It was.“ You agree. “The day we broke up, there was supposed to be a party going on at that place. Just a little get-together with a bunch of people and alcohol, the usual. There were some people there from his dancing class, and Jimin was acting weird, but he wouldn’t tell me what was up. We usually talked about stuff like that, but I guessed it was just something that had to do with work, and he didn’t want to talk about it at that time, so I let it slide. Later that night, I saw him talking to his friends from his dancing team and he seemed fine and like he was enjoying himself, which just further proved my assumption but then when he came back to join me and some of our shared friends, he was once again acting differently.“

You take another sip from your wine and play with the rim of the glass while you think about your next words.

“He said he needed to talk to me, and you know that’s usually never a good sign, is it?“ A humorless laugh escapes your lips. “We went to a more secluded place, and then he told me how he caught feelings for someone else.“

You finish your sentence with a sad smile, but you keep your gaze down. You don’t dare to look anyone in the eyes because you can’t bear to see their pitiful faces. Instead, you try to swallow your emotions and keep a tough composure.

“She was a part of his dancing team, he told me. At that time he had known her for two months and for some reason he “felt drawn to her“. Then he said the usual stuff, that he doesn’t know what to do because he still loves me but he also can’t stop thinking about her and— ugh. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up.“

As you anxiously wait for one of them to say something, you dare to look into their faces to see their reactions, and to your surprise, you don’t even see a hint of pity in them. Instead, they all look kinda pissed.

“You can’t be serious!“ Jungkook is the first to break the silence. “He had you and left you for someone he only knew for two fucking months?!“

“Well, to be fair, he didn’t leave me. I was the one who broke with him after.“

“As you should! He’s an idiot if he lets some irrelevant other girl get between you two. I mean ten years? You don’t just risk a relationship like that for a stupid fling. What on earth was he thinking?“ Namjoon agrees, making Jungkook frantically nod his head.

You stay silent during their rage because you don’t know what to say. Do you agree with them? Not really, no. You don’t think you’re that great of a catch, really. You will never understand what a guy like Jimin would want from a girl like you.

You are pretty, yes. At least you were pretty at the start of your relationship. Before the accident happened and you turned into Frankenstein’s monster. There was really no reason for him to stay with you for that many more years after that. It’s not just your face that changed after the dog attacked and disfigured your face — It was your whole demeanor. You grew even more secluded. Never wanted to go out anymore, never wanted to show your face. You never even let anybody take a photo of you anymore. You grew anxious in front of people because you felt like every laughter was directed at you, and everyone was making fun of your looks. You grew anxious in front of dogs — no matter how small because you thought they were about to attack you.

You just became a whole different person.

And that must have been hard for Jimin too because he was the one by your side. He was the one visiting you and holding your hand throughout the month-long hospital stay and all those painful surgeries. He was the one who tried to get you to go out again. He was the one who held your hand whenever he felt you getting nervous in public. He was the one who held you close and told you it’d be okay when you felt like crying because you thought someone was making fun of you — even if they weren’t. He was the one who stood up for you and put everyone in their place whenever they did. And he was always the one who shielded you from any kind of dog, no matter how small.

“I’m sure he had his reasons.“ That's all you say after you brush your thoughts away.

“I don’t care about his reasons, he sounds like a dick.“ Jungkook snaps, balling his hands into fists and taking an aggressive, huge sip from his beer.

Not gonna lie, you appreciate them being on your side, and it sadly pushes your ego. But you also know that it’s not right to shit-talk Jimin with your friends, who don’t even know him and who know nothing about your relationship, while the person of interest isn’t even here and can’t speak up for himself.

That’s just not what he deserves. No matter how much he actually hurt you.

“No, Kook. He really isn’t,“ you smile sadly at the youngest, wiping a tear from the corner of your eyes. Dammit, you swore to yourself that you weren’t going to cry. “That’s kind of the problem here.“ You scoff.

“It’d be so much easier if he was the biggest asshole there is. If he just cheated and I found out on accident or something. It’d be so much easier to hate him if that was the case, but no. Instead, he simply… Fell for someone else and told me before he acted out on it because he felt bad and wanted me to know. There’s nothing he could’ve done to prevent this from happening. At the end of the day, we can’t control our feelings.“ You shrug, looking down to hide another tear that’s trying to escape.

“I really can’t hold a grudge against him for that.“

Once again, the room falls silent around you for a brisk of a moment before Taehyung’s deep and soothing voice can be heard.

“You handle the situation very mature, ___. If it was me in your shoes right now, I couldn’t be as understanding. Especially if my heart was as broken as yours.“

You stare into his dark eyes, which are mustering you with every second that passes. You want to simply thank him and leave it at that, but you can’t look him in the eyes and let him think of you as someone you aren’t in the slightest.

“I’m not.“ You sigh. “I said some really nasty things to him that night. Things I really shouldn’t have said. Things that really broke him, I could see that in his eyes and it was so uncalled for. I feel disgusted with myself just thinking about it.“

“Whatever it was, I’m sure it was a heat of the moment thing. You’re human, ___. And that was a harsh hit in your face. It’s only normal for someone to lose their temper in those kinds of situations.“ Taehyung argues.

“No, you don’t understand.“ You groan, massaging your temples. “I said, and I quote, “It’s your single fault that I look like a train wreck, and now you’re just looking for a pretty girl so you can finally look her in the face while you fuck her without feeling guilty.“

You simply die in shame all over again after you finished your sentence, covering your face in embarrassment.

“I truly don’t know what came over me. I regretted it the second those disgusting words left my lips.“ You say, cringing slightly.

To your surprise, Namjoon only shrugs. “Serves him right.“

And you thought he was the mature one out of the three…

“No, I shouldn’t have said that. I had no right. He isn't like that. He was always there for me all these years and all these months I was in the hospital. That wasn’t fair.“

“If you don’t mind me asking,“ Jungkook says, next to you, “how exactly did it happen?“

You, of course, immediately know what he means, and you’re annoyed by yourself for not starting at the very beginning of the story.

“It was a dog. A German Shepherd to be exact.“ You say, seeing Taehyung wince at your words. The others just look at you in our shock.

“Jimin and I wanted to be “reckless“ and broke in on someone’s property.“ You scoff at the stupidity the two of you had in you that night. “Well, that obviously backfired.“ You laugh humorless.

“Fuck. Ouch.“ Jungkook gaspes.

“Yeah. Ouch.“ You grin at him. “It wasn’t very pleasurable, let me tell you.“

“And it was his idea?“ Taehyung then questions, looking at you curiously.

You nod your head. “Yes, I wasn’t stupid enough to come up with something like that myself.“ You joke.

Taehyung nods, seeming to be in thought for a moment. “Then it kinda is his fault, isn’t it?“ He then says.

You quickly shake your head. “No, it isn’t. He might’ve been the one who had the idea, but I was stupid enough to follow him, and I wasn’t athletic enough to climb over the fence before that huge beast could feast on my face.“

“But if he wouldn’t have suggested it—“

“Tae, come on.“ You plead. “He’s not a bad guy, okay? This might sound very dumb now, but I don’t want you guys to think of him as that mean ex-boyfriend who broke my heart by finding someone else and to who I own these scars.“ You declare.

“Because that’s not who Jimin is. He’s kind and loving, and there’s literally not a single bad bone inside of that guy. He always puts others first, and he would never say anything bad about me either, even if I said what I said to him. I just know he wouldn’t. And so I don’t want you to shit-talk him either because he simply doesn’t deserve that.“

Taehyung, who seemed like he really wanted to say something just a minute ago, is suddenly very quiet. His gaze is fixed on something on the floor while Namjoon just stares at you, and before you can ask them what’s wrong, Jungkook gets ahead of you.

“Well fuck.“ He mutters, making your head snap to him in an instant. “You still love him.“ He states all of a sudden, making you halt.

When you take a quick look around, you can see that that’s exactly what the other guys think as well.

No reason to hide it then.

“Got me.“ You raise your hands in front of your chest. “That’s the reason I left early.“ You say in a quiet voice. “I saw him, and unfortunately, he saw me too. I made a run for it before he could reach me, but I was afraid he’d come to my parent’s house to talk to me or something. So I did the only thing I could think of — I came home.“ You explain.

“But why? You could’ve talked it out with him.“ Namjoon asks you.

“Because I’m just not ready for that, I guess.“ You shrug. “Look, I still love him, okay? I just know that talking to him or just standing in front of him, would be absolutely devastating for me. I would want him back, but I don’t want him back, you know what I mean?“ You ain't surprised to see him shake his head in confusion.

“I don’t hate him for what he did.“ You clarify again. “It was out of his reach to control his feelings, but I also somehow feel like… I don’t know like I deserve better than someone who falls for someone else? I don’t know if that makes sense.“

“It does.“ Taehyung agrees. “And you do deserve better than that.“

You offer him a grateful smile which earns you one back from him. He really seems to understand you, and you’re very grateful for that. It may be because he also went through a nasty breakup with his ex-wife, but maybe he also just really gets you. No matter the reason, it’s a comforting feeling.

“Yeah. I deserve someone who loves me and only me. And he deserves someone who doesn’t look worse than Thanos in Infinity War.“ You joke, trying to lighten up the sour mood.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, ___.“ Jungkook gasps. “At least you’re not bald.“

It takes a few seconds of simply staring at him in shock before you burst out into laughter, quickly followed by him and the other guys. It might just be the alcohol, but at least he finally got a good laugh out of you after you went through so many negative emotions tonight. Jungkook is very pleased with himself.

“I can’t believe you. You’re such an ass.“ You laugh, wiping another tear from your eye, but this time this one is very welcomed.

“I made you laugh, so I reached my goal.“ He solely shrugs.

“But you really shouldn’t say that about yourself, ___. You’re very beautiful, inside and out. Even if saying that makes me look like a sappy wimp, it’s true.“ Namjoon says, smiling brightly.

You admire his dimples, but you don’t believe his words. These are very handsome men who normally spend their time with very beautiful girls, you’re sure. They know you don’t count as one.

“I know you mean well, Joon, but I’m not, and you don’t have to lie to make me feel better about myself.“

“He’s right, though.“ Taehyung says, raising a brow. “If you don’t believe him, you can believe me. I work with models. I should know, shouldn’t I?“

“So what are you saying? I am by no means comparable to any of the people you work with. I’m sorry, Tae, but if you think I’ll believe that, you’re ridiculous.“ You scoff, getting annoyed by him all of a sudden.

You don’t mean to snap at him, and you know they all just mean well and don’t intend on hurting your feelings, but them trying to make you believe in something that’s so obviously not true, makes you feel like they’re making fun of you.

Taehyung looks taken aback by your harsh words, and seeing his face makes you feel even worse about it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh guys.“ You sigh, massaging your temple again. “It’s just that, I know who I am. And I know what I look like. The truth is, I had a pretty nasty accident eight years ago that left me with multiple scars on my face, which, let’s be honest here, don’t really flatter my face at all. I’m no beauty, and that’s okay. I’ve been through many tough years trying to accept the way I look now, and somehow I made it. I’m okay with myself. I know what I look like, and I know what other people think of it, and I learned not to care about that. But I count you guys as my friends, and when you try to convince me of something that I know I am not, then that’s not nice, okay? It makes me feel like you’re making fun of me.“

You aren’t sure if they understand your issue with them trying to be nice and respectful, and you wouldn’t blame them if they don’t. For people who can’t emphasize with how you feel, simply because they clearly never had the same problems, you must sound like an ungrateful bitch. You can’t change the way you feel though.

“So what, do you expect me to call you ugly when I don’t at all think that you are?“ Taehyung asks, seeming kinda irritated with you now as well.

You groan, rolling your eyes. “No. I obviously don’t want to be called ugly.“

“So what do you want then?“

“I don’t want to be lied to by my friends.“

“I’m not lying though. And I’m pretty sure neither Namjoon nor Jungkook are, when they say that they find you pretty or even beautiful. Not everyone is into perfection, ___.“

“Okay, maybe we should talk about that some other time when we’re a little less drunk. What do you think about that?“ Namjoon interrupts your little banter before it can turn into a little more than that.

Taehyung and you are still glaring at each other though, and it doesn’t look like he’s very fond of Namjoon’s idea. He instead wants to talk further about it.

You, on the other hand, have to admit you’re happy he cut in on your argument because you’re definitely not looking for a fight. Especially about a topic like that, and not when you’re drunk and can’t think properly. Right now, you regret every word that comes out of your mouth, and you just want to change the topic and talk about something else. Maybe something lighter for a change.

“You’re right. I’m not in the right mind state to argue right now.“ You sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to accuse you of anything, Tae. I know you only mean well.“

There’s a special glint in your eyes, that tells Taehyung this isn’t the first time you had that argument with someone. And it seemingly isn't the right time to talk to you about it. This observation and the fact that you apologized, even if you didn’t have to, make something inside of him soften instantly. He usually isn’t one to give up so easily, but he thinks that this time, it might just be the right decision. He doesn’t want to start a fight with you either.

So instead of staying true to his earlier words and trying to get his point across, he simply offers you an honest smile and nods his head in agreement.

For the rest of the night, you simply sit together, drink, take an occasional bite out of the now cold pizzas, and laugh about some of the stories the guys share with you about their own past relationships now.

Turns out they as well had some pretty interesting breakups and situations with past girlfriends and or lovers. It doesn't surprise you, but it still makes you laugh nonetheless.

At some point, you find yourself leaning against a barely awake Jungkook, and after you blinked for a mere second, you feel someone carrying you somewhere.

You can’t make out who is carrying you and where because you need to rest your eyes for another second. The next time you open your eyes again, you suddenly aren’t being carried anymore. Instead, you’re lying somewhere. But your eyes are way too heavy, and your head is way too tired to think about anything. So you choose to take a quick rest before you're going to worry about anything else.

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Text

A Little Outside the Doorway of Your Home (Various Creepypasta X F!Reader)

[Various X F!Reader]

[Warnings: none? Like, children I guess and slight angst.]

[AN: it's like a half fic half scenario thing that I originally intended to be shorter, but here we are.]

You wake in your house to the sound of your little girl running through the hall of your house. As you open your eyes to the ceiling where rays of lights dance through the open air. You can tell she’s padding towards your room - it’s become a daily event.

“Mommy!” She cries out as she bursts your door open, jumping onto the bed with all her might.

“There’s my little princess,” you hum with a small smile, giggling as you scoop her into your arms.

She laughs - it sounds so much like her father - before she situates herself on your sheets. She sits up. “Do you know what today is?” She asks, happiness in her eyes.

You pretend to feign ignorance, “no, I don’t. What’s today?” You question as your face pulls an expression that tells you’re obviously playing.

She rolls her eyes playfully and pushes at you with all her tiny might, “really?” She says in an exaggerated tone.

You break your feigned ignorance and pull your daughter in before peppering her face with kisses. “How could I forget? You’re six years old today!”

That statement isn’t false, you wouldn’t forget her birthday for anything. Her birthday is a place of happiness and sorrow. Happiness, because she’s growing older and experiencing the world and living a life you always wanted her to have, and sorrow, because it was the day you said goodbye to someone you loved.

Every time you looked into her darling eyes, you saw her father’s looking back at you. Every day she grew to be more and more like him; it was undeniable that she was his just as much as she is yours.

“What do you say we make a special birthday breakfast?” You say as you slip out of the sheets before turning back to your bouncing little girl who climbs onto your hip.

“It sounds so good,” she says, nodding faster and wildly than she can even get the words out. “Can I help you make it?”

“Of course,” you reply. “I can’t make a special birthday breakfast without the birthday girl’s assistance,” you giggle, tapping her nose gently as the two of you head down the hallway to the kitchen.

Once there, you set her down and get the things she can do out on the counter top. She’s so tiny that she needs a chair to stand up on just to reach them all. You watch from the corner of your eye as you handle the things you’re not comfortable with her doing just yet. She’s surprisingly efficient, your little one. She has the curiosity and skill that outruns her peers by miles. A part of you says it’s because of her father, but you know it’s because you’ve been raising her. Nurture is greater than nature, after all.

Your little birthday girl gets to stirring the pancake batter after she measures it and you’re cutting up fresh vegetables for an omelets alongside some other things. The kitchen already smells heavenly. When she’s done mixing the batter, you pour it into a heated pan and make them just the way she wants them - with butterscotch chips and chocolate chips. You let her put it on a plate and watch as she carefully cuts some strawberries. Once she’s successfully transferred the delicious pancakes onto her plate (and adorably one for you as well), she goes to the table.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Can I have some tea with honey?”

You smile and wordlessly get to brewing some tea. You decide you’ll have some too, so you decide to use the kettle over the Keurig. As you wait for it to whistle, you get the rest of the breakfast together and place it all at the table for just the two of you.

“It looks good,” you note as your child waits patiently for you.

“It smells good,” she agrees.

The kettle whistles and you find yourself flitting over to its side before procuring two cups. You make her cup of tea just the way she likes it, and finally, you’re able to settle at the table with her.

“Go ahead,” you say as you sit down.

She beams and digs into her food. “Thank you,” she says in a momentary lapse between eating and stuffing her face.

You laugh slightly, “slow down,” you remind her.

She pauses slightly before going back to her fast eating.

You also begin to cut your pancakes and omelets. Once to your satisfaction, you pour some honey into your tea, stir it and bring it to your lips. You’re barely able to get in a few sips before you hear a knock at your door. Your eyebrows raise as you see your little girl setting down her silverware. “No, let me get it. Stay here and finish your food,” you say as you begin to slide out of your seat. “I won’t be too long. You can get your tablet until I’m back. Sound good?”

A large smile curls from her lips as she rushes out of her seat back to her bedroom. You hear her rummaging around her room, and with that, you get up and head to the door to see who it is. As you near your front door, you can’t help but get that sinking feeling in your stomach. You don’t even need to open the door to know who it is. You can feel it in your bones.

Still, as you twist open the doorknob, you feel your heart flutter. You were expecting him, but seeing him in the flesh for the first time in a year has you feeling like you’re meeting him for the first time all over again. He still sets your heart on fire.

Masky - Timothy Wright:

“How’re you doing, sweetheart?” A low male voice asks, a small smile tugging at his lips. There’s bags under his eyes that tell you he hasn’t slept in days but seeing you has his eyes shining with a light that not even the sun can compete with.

“Tim,” you breathe as you catch his eyes. “I’m - I’m well, and you?” You sputter out, stepping out of your house slightly to close your front door behind you. You look over him to see he’s got a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a wrapped present tucked under his other arm. He lets them go gently before taking you into his arms. You wrap around him like a snake, allowing yourself to be swayed by him for a few moments before he lets you go.

“You know how it goes,” he hums in response, moving slightly on your front porch to let you stand beside him. He never says too much of what he does, and to be completely fair, you’re not sure you want to know. All you know is that it’s dangerous, and it’s because of that danger he can’t be close to you or your child.

“You wanna talk?” You ask. It’s more a formality, really. Every time he visits he stays to talk for a few minutes or so. You never see him outside of your baby’s birthday.

“Don’t need to ask me twice,” Tim replies with a breathy chuckle as he takes his seat on the stairs alongside you. “Got these for you.” The brown haired man holds out the pink flowers for you after he’s reached back on the porch to get them. Roses and carnations. They’re beautiful.

“Thank you,” you say as you take the flowers into your arms. “I hope they didn’t cost you too much-”

“It’s nothing,” he waves off. “Would you mind if I uh,” he gestures down to his breast pocket where you’re greeted to the outline of cigarettes.

Normally you’d tell him no, but this time, you let it slide. “Go for it.”

Tim raises his eyebrows but uses his free hand to fish out his pack of cigarettes anyways. He places one in between his lips. “That’s weird,” he says as you on instinct reach into his coat pocket and grab his lighter. “Something wrong?”

You flick it on and light his cigarette for him, watching as he inhales with appreciation. “It’s nothing,” you attempt to wave off.

“I know you better than that,” he says as you drop his lighter back into his tan coat pocket. “Sounds cliche as hell, but you know I’m right.”

You sigh and decide to bite the bullet. “I just, we-” you finger the petals gently and feel their velvety surface. “We could use you around, you know that, right?”

Masky hums as he takes another drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in rings that dissipate the further away from him they go. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with him, and unfortunately, you know it won’t be the last. “I know.”

“That’s never good enough-”

“I’m sorry,” he cuts you off. “In this situation,” he continues. “My hands are bound.”

“Is your boss really that bad?”

Tim’s face pales slightly as you mention his ‘employer.’ That’s not someone you mention lightly. “If it was that simple I’d be with the two of you now.”

You know he’s not lying. Tim has never been one to like like that. “Is that for her?” You ask suddenly, wanting to change the subject.

He nods and places the package on his lap. “It’s nothing special. Just did what I could,” he mumbles.

You place the bouquet on the patio and take the package off his lap and onto yours. “You sure you’re not spoiling her?” You say with a small smile upon feeling its weight. “She’ll be really happy.”

“Good,” he hums back.

A silence falls over the two of you. It feels like there’s so much to say with so little time. You wish he were around more just to speak with him.

“Are you staying in this area long?”

“No,” Tim says with a frown. “Pulled out some stops just to be here today. My partners and I are really off schedule just being here.”

You can’t help but feel a little bad. “It… It means the world to me,” you say quietly, looking at the wrapping paper that surrounds the package.

Tim’s hand moves to your thigh before he squeezes gently. It’s a nonverbal way for him to say how much he cares for you and your little one, regardless of how far the distance is between you two.

He wants to tell you he loves you before a voice comes calling from inside. It’s muffled, but you can hear your little girl calling out for you.

“I should go,” you say sheepishly.

“Sure, sure,” Tim brushes off as he helps you up, picking up the bouquet so you can focus on holding the present. “Give her all my love, yeah?” He always ends the conversation like this.

“Of course,” you reply, hand on the doorknob. “I’ll see you soon?” You ask, knowing it won’t be until next year.

Tim nods, a sad smile on his face as he leans down slightly to kiss your forehead before he nods for you to go inside, carefully resting the bouquet of flowers on top of the present.

You do so, making it fully past the doorway before looking over your shoulder for a man you love who cannot stay, only to see he’s gone.

Hoodie - Brian Thomas:

“It’s been a while, darling,” a voice with a slight southern accent greets, hazel eyes looking at you with such warmth that it rivals the Sahara in summer. “Give me a hug,” he chuckles before being momentarily caught off guard by how hard you slam into his chest.

You giggle quietly into the fabric of his yellow hoodie, not even noticing how his other hand softly closes your front door behind you to ensure the agreement the two of you have. He’s not to see your little girl because she’ll be heartbroken he can’t stay.

Once you finally stop clinging to him, you and Brian take a seat on the front steps, watching the morning sun as it rises over the trees.

“What have you been up to?” You ask.

Brian leans back on the porch slightly to get both a package and a small thing of flowers. “Work. Same as usual, really,” he says as he places both of the things on his lap. “Nothing too exciting. What about you and-”

“We’re good,” you say as he holds out a small bouquet of fresh flowers to you. “Thank you,” you smile, taking them into your hands before smelling them. They’re so sweet.

“How is she doing in school?”

“Top of her class,” you say, beaming with pride. “I know she’s only six, but goodness, she’s so bright.”

“She gets it from you,” Brian compliments. “Six already? They grow so fast,” he says softly in a tone you can only understand as regret.

You frown as you look over the soft petals that dance between your fingertips. “I wish you were around more often to see her.”

Brian pulls a slight face, one that tells you he wants nothing more, but the conversation will be the same as all those before. His work is too dangerous, and while you don’t know anything about it, you know he fears for your safety whenever you mention it. “I want nothing more, and you know that more than anyone,” he begins as his posture visibly changes to something that conveys discomfort. “But I can’t and won’t risk her.”

“What kind of work are you even in?” You attempt to ask. You know he’ll never say.

“It’s a nice try,” Brian chuckles as he ruffles your hair. “Y’know, I’m not supposed to be here today.”

“You’re never supposed to be here,” you reply, only the slightest bite coming into your tone.

“Sure, but,” he glances down to the package that sits on his lap. “We’re way off course just being in this area.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah,” Brian sighs. “I had to pull a lot of favors with my associates to get out here,” he says as he lightly taps the package. “But it’s worth it to be near the two of you.” He wishes he could see her.

“It’s never enough,” you reply, a passing ‘this is where we’re at’ coming into your tone.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

A slight silence falls over the two of you as you feel the breeze pick up. You can’t stay out here for too much longer.

“This is for her,” Brian suddenly says, gesturing to the beautifully wrapped package on his lap. “I think she’ll like it.”

“She likes everything you get for her,” you smile as you take the package gingerly into your hands. “You spoil her.”

“I don’t spoil her enough,” Brian playfully retorts. “One of these days I’m going to get a U-Haul truck of stuff for her.” He’s only half joking and the both of you know that.

You giggle slightly, wanting to continue speaking with him before you hear a muffled voice calling out for you.

“Dang, gotta call this one short,” you say as you begin to stand up.

Brian follows your actions, his brows furrowing slightly as he helps you up. “What a shame,” he agrees half heartedly, his voice turning into something more somber.

You flash him a reassuring smile, but can’t help but feel overwhelmed by how gently he helps you up. “I’ll uh, see you soon, right?” You ask, eyes glimmering with the possibility he’ll be back faster than just next year.

“Sure thing,” he says. It’s a promise you both know he can’t keep. “Give her all my love, please,” he finishes gently as he pushes open the front door for you.

“Of course,” you reply, looking up and into his hazel eyes that show nothing but sorrow.

Brian smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, and just like that, he’s heading down your stairs and back out of your life until next year.

Eyeless Jack:

“What a sight for sore eye sockets,” the grey skinned man greets with a small smirk pulling onto his lips. He dips down for a moment to deposit both a bouquet of freshly picked sunflowers and a nicely wrapped present on the porch before he leaves his arms open for you.

You smile widely in response, softly close your front door before getting a good look at the man who stole your heart all those years ago. “I’ve missed you so much,” you say as you wrap your arms around his midsection. You take in his scent and revel in it.

“I missed you too,” he says softly, swaying the two of you on the porch. “C’mon, sit with me and talk for a moment.”

You don’t hesitate and take a seat next to him on the steps. “What have you been up to?” You ask, looking longingly at the man you only see once every year.

It’s strange, the way you met Eyeless Jack, and it was mostly an accident. He’d broken into your dorm room and intended to get your roommate but woke you instead. You fought him, he liked that, and the two of you had formed some weird friendship romance. Eventually, that oddity that called itself a relationship blossomed into a child. That’s when things got strange, and odd, and in order to protect her, decided that the best course of action would be him not being around her. It hurt to admit that it was for the best. The both of you wanted normalcy for her.

“Same as I’ve always been,” Eyeless Jack replies as he listens to the sounds of the house. When he’s this close, he can hear his little girl. It’s almost as if he was there by her side. “Travelled around some, but my boss has some tasks for me to do on the opposite end of the country than here.”

You hum slightly in response. “We’re a major detour, aren’t we?”

Eyeless Jack cracks a smile and shakes his head slightly. “I would never consider the two of you detours. You’re the only good things in these parts,” he finishes. “Oh, I also picked these from some farmer’s fields on the way here. Thought it might liven up your house a bit.” He hands you the hand plucked sunflowers.

You chuckle and lightly slap at his shoulder before taking the golden flowers into your hands. “You’re so kind.”

“Right?” He teases slightly in agreement. “How is she?”

“She’s doing great,” you say. “She’s so smart and sociable. We get requests for playdates all the time.” You’re not lying, your little girl really is a social butterfly and she’s so intelligent and inquisitive for her age.

“Is she? She definitely gets it from you,” Eyeless Jack says as he thinks back to his own days as a student. Granted, he can’t remember as far back as childhood, but he can remember what it was like being in love with the world and all she had to offer.

“Y’know the funniest thing?” You begin. “She wants to be a doctor when she grows up.”

If Eyeless Jack had eyes, you knew they’d be lighting up. It’s what he wanted to be before he became whatever he is now.

As he smiles, you suppress the idea of telling him that the eyes your little girl has now are the ones that were stolen from him all those years ago. She’s the spitting image of a human him, and you know his inky black heart would break if he knew. Instead, you let a comfortable silence fall over the two of you before one of you inevitably breaks it.

“Will you be staying around this place for much longer?”

He shakes his head slightly, a small sag coming to his shoulders as he does so. “I’d love to stay longer just to catch up with you, but there’s some things I really, really need to do. Looks like it’s gonna be a while until I pull out all the stops again.”

You frown and rest your head on his shoulder, wanting to say so much to him before you hear a muffled voice calling out for you. You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you stand up, holding the flowers tightly in your hands.

Eyeless Jack mirrors you, holding the present. “Here, before we forget,” he lightly reminds as you fumble with it for a moment. “I gotta spoil her every chance I get,” he lightly jokes.

You giggle and test the present’s weight. “I wish that were more than once a year.”

“I wish to too,” Eyeless Jack says, a slightly forlorn look shading over his face. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

You throw him a look, momentarily hurt at the implication it’ll be another year before you see the man who still awakens butterflies in your stomach. You still want to say so much more to him.

“Give her all of my love,” he says softly before he dips down slightly to press his lips to your forehead.

You close your eyes in content, allowing the feeling to wash over you before it’s gone in a flash. When you open your eyes, he’s gone, and you head back into your house to attend to your daughter.

Jeff the Killer:

“It’s so good to see you again, princess,” a man with an eternal smile carved onto his face beams.

“Jeff,” you breathe out as you look into darling blue eyes. “It’s been forever,” you say as he drops the items in his arms, thankful they’re not fragile before you launch into his grasp.

He closes the door softly behind you before he wraps his arms around you, spinning you there on the porch, a gentle laugh bubbling from his chest as he holds someone who’s given him the world and more. “It’s so nice to hold you again,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You smile and squeeze him tighter, wondering why you can only hold him like this once a year.

Reluctantly, Jeff lets you go and brings you to the stairsteps where the two of you will spend a few moments talking about things that should be held over a conversation that’s more than a few mere minutes.

It really never is enough sometimes.

“What have you been up to?” You ask, barely noticing how he reaches back on the porch to get you some fresh wildflowers he plucked on the way here. You instinctively smell them once they’re in your grasp. They’re beautiful, really.

“What haven’t I been up to?” Jeff lightly jokes as he relaxes on the porch. “I’m sure you’ve seen some of the news articles.”

You pull a slight face, roll your eyes but nod regardless. It reminds you of when you first met him - which was frankly, a mistake on both of your parts. He’d gotten hurt, you were not thinking clearly and took him in, patched him up and he refused to leave. Now, he’s the father of your child. It was decided before you had your sunshine that he wouldn’t be directly a part of her life to ensure no harm would befall her. As Jeff has said he is no stranger to enemies.

He’s worried something bad will befall the two of you everytime he leaves, knowing that his presence is the most dangerous force and the biggest threat to your safety. He stays away as far as he can, and with him now working more closer than ever to the tall man in the woods? He’ll be farther away than ever before.

“You’re so bold, how could I avoid you?” You hum in passing, gently brushing the petals of the wildflowers with your fingertips.

Jeff chuckles slightly. “How’s our little sunshine? She doing well in school?”

“Of course,” you grin. “She’s so smart and soaks up information like a sponge. She’s also kinda athletic, but y’know, she’s only six so there’s so many directions she could go,” you inform. In a way, she reminds you of what you think Jeff would be like as a child. She’s certainly outspoken, but never in a disrespectful way. You know she’s going to grow up to be someone good.

Jeff whistles low before he cracks a grin. “Six already? Sunshine’s gonna be seven before we know it. And then she’s gonna be a teen-”

“Slow down!” You giggle, lightly punching Jeff’s shoulder. “I wanna cherish these moments while I still can.”

“If I wasn’t doing what I do,” Jeff begins as he watches the trees sway with the passing breeze. “I’d be where I belong. With the two of you.”

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, feeling your lover’s warmth. “We could make it work now, couldn’t we?”

Jeff shoots you a slight glance to tell you that he knows you know how it’s all going to play out. He doesn’t even need to say it. If he had any faith that the two of you would be safer with him around, he’d be at your side and never leave. But with Jane and his brother in his trail and the Slender Man never letting him breathe plus the cops that get too trigger happy? He refuses to take that risk with his two most important girls in the world. “Princess,” he says softly as he slings his arm over you. “You know the rules to this game.”

You furrow your brows and nod hesitantly, “I do.”

His hand grips your bicep slightly as the two of you spend some time in silence together. There’s so much you both want to say, but neither can bring themself to say it. So for now, silence with someone you love.

“Oh,” Jeff suddenly says. “I brought these things for her,” he says as he gestures to the presents he’s pulling on his lap.

“You’re spoiling her again this year?” You say in a teasing tone as he gestures to the giant basket filled to the brim with stuffed animals. “Of course,” Jeff beams. “I had to. Besides, I heard she’s taken a shine to giraffes.”

“She has,” you say as you look over all the toys and other fun things. “She’ll love it.”

Jeff chuckles. “Good.”

Before you can say anything else, a muffled voice calls for you inside the house. You immediately get up, ready to attend to your daughter and Jeff follows in suit.

Internally, he’s just a bit sad that his moment with you is up, but hearing his daughter’s voice makes his heart sing. He helps you up, ensures you’re able to hold everything he brought and helps you open the door just a crack before the two of you pause.

You look into those blue eyes that set your heart on fire and butterflies in your stomach in motion and smile sadly, trying to reassure him you’ll be okay with him leaving. “Will I see you soon?”

“You know it,” Jeff replies, a promise on his lips that doesn’t reach his eyes. He knows he won’t be back until next year or unless there’s an emergency. He hopes it’s just next year and that no one dear and near to his heart’s life is on the line. “Take care, princess, and give all my love to her,” he says softly as he tilts your head upwards.

“Anything for you,” you whisper as you feel his lips on your forehead, planting a love that only comes once a year.

Jeff chuckles softly before gesturing for you to head inside.

When you turn your back on him to be with your little girl, you feel his presence linger, and then it’s gone.

Slender Man:

Wait, no you didn’t. No the hell you didn’t lol. Mans looks like a Ken Doll below the belt y’aint doing me like this. You go back inside, wondering why you answered a call in which no one made.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta scenarios #x reader #reader insert #masky #hoodie #jeff the killer #eyeless jack #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #jeff the killer x reader #eyeless jack x reader #marble hornets #tim wright #brian thomas

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utterlyhopeful-fics · 3 years

Text

Head in the Clouds

A/N: Just a little angst I whipped up this fine morning. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Reader

Word Count: 915

Warnings: language, angst, mention of overdose, drug use, angst, mention of addiction and mental health

“I can’t do it anymore, Johnny. I fucking can’t.”

In his deludedly clouded mind, Y/N felt miles away yet her voice was a maddening nuisance thrumming through his eardrums. His red eyes brimmed with enraged sadness lingering just behind his swollen lids, awaiting release.

“The fuck, Y/N?”

Coco’s vision blurred seeing double unable to identity where Y/N sat. Lettie’s sobs echoed the somber room. Y/N straightened her posture turning to face Coco once more.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. It’s like driving full speed into a cement wall with you. I’m at my wit’s end, baby. You’ve gotta help me out.”

Her fingers traced the numerous injection sites taking note of the growing track marks. Y/N sighed wondering how the hell he wound up engulfed in heroin hell.

“Lettie, when was the last time he used?”

“I’m not his fucking keeper, Y/N! I don’t know!”

Y/N stood abruptly heading towards the crying girl swallowing her in a hug. Leticia obliged accepting the much-needed comfort.

“I know, sweetie. I know.”

“What are we gonna do now?”

“Come up with a new plan. I’ll be damned to lose him to this shit of all things.”

“Thank you for …being you. I’m really fucking happy I met you.”

“I love your dad but I most definitely love you too. Ya hear me?”

Lettie nodded staying in their embrace. Coco slept quietly on the couch, too quietly for her liking. So much so Y/N checked his vitals around the clock waiting for him to snap outta it.

“So, if Coco’s high as shit, Where the hell is his sidekick, what’s er name?”

Lettie pulled back but not without one hell of a dramatic eyeroll. She’d been betrayed her whole life by those who were supposed to love her most and it sickened Y/N to see just how much Leticia was forced to grow up over the past seventeen years. Her heart ached thinking about the level of neglect she experienced.

Leticia didn’t see the purpose of holding back speaking freely; “The slut?”

“Mm. Clever and cute.”

“Hope. What a fucking joke of a name.”

Coco and Y/N recently celebrated their third anniversary shortly before …the incident. The gruesome attack against the VM left Coco partially blind and in constant crippling pain. Too damn soon that shit engulfed him fully dragging him deeper into the mud chipping at his resolve entirely. Y/N wasn’t an idiot noting an obvious uptick in dosage over time.

Then came the disappearing act, going off the radar for days at a time only to come back in apologetic shambles. He was her weakness, the lone chip in her battle armor she couldn’t refuse. But hands down her favorite part of their messy love story was Leticia. Her In between falling for Coco, Y/N and Lettie bonded instantly vibing off the other. A friendship neither asked for but both cherished.

Y/N’s breath puttered fighting to find the right words to say but nothing followed.

“He doesn’t deserve you…and he’s going to regret this for the rest of pathetic life.”

Her anger broke through wafting her finger at Coco’s current predicament. Y/N turned on her charm soothing Lettie relatively easy.

Y/N sniffled; “You’re right. You’re fucking right. Hopefully one day soon, we can talk and maybe sort some of this shit out. But until then, it’s been killing me to be around him. Shit-shit. I’m babbling. Sometimes I just don’t know when to shut my mou--.”

Leticia cut her off; “Yep.” Popping the last letter loudly. “Uh, ya, you should.”

Her tone shifted to immediate awkwardness; “I know he hasn’t been around much but there’s….”

“Go on.”

“I think it’d be better coming from him.”

Her hands gestured wildly; “Well, that isn’t an option right now CLEARLY!”

“Shit, I made you mad. I’m sorry.”

“Mad? I’m past mad, I’m fucking raging but he gets to have all the fun he fucking wants without any repercussions? I can get over the drug use, that is a battle I can become equipped to fight, but cheating? That’s a whole other ball park. And it’s not just some one thing fling, no of course not! She lures him in, seduces him, and in return they get fucking blasted together. Couple of the year here!”

The exhale Y/N was holding in released unknowingly venting about the shit situation she’d found herself in.

“But he chose her, Lettie. He kept going back to her. I refuse to be a consolation prize.”

“He messed up BIG TIME. I wish I could shake this disease out of him and bring back the old Coco. I really liked my life until about six months ago. Even though the fighting and back and forth screaming sucked, I’m really glad I have you to turn to. You know with my mommy issues and all.”

Her mouth dropped open; “Smart ass! I love you Leticia Cruz and I’ll always be there when you need me; any time, any day. Got it?”

Soft snores directed their attention towards the couch at the sleeping beast. Y/N longingly stared at him wanting to wipe the beaded sweat above his brows. She was torn, torn between ripping off the band-aid of love or waiting for the wound of betrayal to heal on its own. She did what came to mind first, excused herself, promised to call Lettie tomorrow and left closing the front door quietly. For once Y/N focused ahead on her future leaving the past behind.

~~~~~~~

Tags: @twistnet @angelreyesgirl89 @carlaangel86 @imagineredwood @gemini0410 @mayans-mc @reaperwalking @prospectfandom @emmaveale123 @peaky-marvel @kind-wolf @scorpio4dayzzz @starrynite7114 @penny4yourthot @thegirlwhowritesfics @star017 @threeminutesoflife @woahitslucyylu @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass @blessedboo @amberritonicole

#coco cruz x reader #mayans mc #mayans x reader #mayans #coco x reader #my writing #head in the clouds #johnny cruz x reader #mayans mc x reader #mayans angst #coco cruz angst #mayans drabble

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nacrelyses · 3 years

Text

normal album analysis as a musical: the child

first a disclaimer: i know this interpretation was not will wood’s intention in making the album, this is just how the music resonates with me and i hope it helps other people as well.

now following up on my last post about the normal album potentially being interpreted as the life of a queer child in a conservative family (tw internalized and external queerphobia, gaslighting, mental illness).

let’s call this ..hmm.

a normal musical: the child.

suburbia overture: the aforementioned overture, the establishment of the musical setting as your typical white picket fence upper middle class suburb nuclear family. traditional values, traditional lifestyle, traditional children, with the vampire culture segment foreshadowing the way that imposing conservative values and self-loathing on a closeted queer child “sucks” the life out of them.

2econd-2ight-2eer: when the child starts questioning, the very act of questioning defies the moral compass their family has set out for them. possibly reflecting the way that questioning and exploring one’s identity, in addition to being rife with internalized queerphobia, is also fraught with the self-gaslighting that comes as a result of the internalized queerphobia, which might make the child believe they’re simply “losing it” or that whatever they’re experiencing is a mental illness. also the first stanza: “my grip on my secrets slipping while i’m speaking in tongues, screaming at the top of my lungs in the confession booth” religious trauma much?

laplace’s angel: the child has begun to come to terms with the fact that they are most likely queer, and the complete deterioration of their family’s imposed conservative values. this is the phase where the internalized queerphobia still makes them feel as though they’ve become a bad or evil person, thus laplace’s angel being them internally pleading for the world and for society to see them as they really are rather than a villain deviating from the norm. that if others were in their shoes, they’d walk the “same damn miles”, the same damn crises, the same damn emotional turmoil, that the child is currently going through .

i/me/myself: gender cannonball...need i say more? maybe the child believes, as a product of internalized transphobia, that it would be easier if they were their assigned gender - or perhaps, depending on the individual, maybe the child is wishing to be able to exist as their true gender. in either scenario, this song encapsulates the desperation that comes with exploring identity. the freedom that arrives with a revelation and the immediate restriction that comes with realizing that that revelation can never be truly realized in a queerphobic family. or even the bitterness at knowing their family makes such a huge deal about queerness, that queerness is somehow a gigantic roadblock their family will never be able to cross. both realizing your identity and still grappling with the idea that if you were born into the “norm”, you wouldn’t need to go through all this pain to try and figure out who you really are. it’s the turmoil of being genuine in a society that would actively oppress you for doing so and putting up a facade that somewhat lessens the aforementioned pain, but at the cost of further internal suffering.

also, to my fellow genderqueer and gender nonconforming will wood fans (and let’s face it, which one of us isn’t?): i see you. i see your spotify listening activity. i see the loop button. i would ask if you’re okay but i know we’re not

...well, better than the alternative: parenting angst here, maybe alluding to the parents themselves perpetuating toxic cycles that they never had the opportunities to realize or heal from. the child is born amid these toxic cycles, and although this toxicity (the queerphobia, for example) is the norm in this suburban family, deep down the parents don’t want their child to turn out the way they do. meanwhile, on the other end, the child is feeling as though “everybody’s up in my goddamn business” - maybe the parents are starting to suspect that their child is less than cishet (or maybe the child has come out to them), and within their denial of their child not turning out the way they want them to, maybe they unconsciously realize that it’s their own toxic parenting styles that have made their child so afraid and secretive about who they really are. if this is the scenario that the child has come out to their parents, they have decided that even if they are existing in a conservative family, they will be existing as themselves. or if it is a closet scenario, the child has decided that they will continue to hide themselves from their family for their own safety. in either situation, the child believes that the decision they made is “better than the alternative”

(this song also makes me remember hospitals a lot so there’s that)

outliars and hyppocrates: we start off with some more religious (trauma) imagery. maybe the metaphor of the apple is trying to indicate to the parents, through the conservative lens of seeing queerness as something bad, that the child was not “brainwashed” or “taught” to be this way. that they simply are. the rest of the song grapples with that internalized queerphobia, maybe the child feeling that they are less than human because of their queerness but who’d want to be human, be the norm, anyway? if the child is made to feel Other, then they ought to embrace and wear and own that Otherness - out of defiance, out of desperation, but ultimately out of a need for survival.

blackboxwarrior: i want to focus on the chorus here. the child’s mental struggles are exacerbated by the lack of acceptance they receive from their immediate environment, but the chorus acts as sort of a defiance against their internalized queerphobia. so what if their parents’ values portray queerness as an illness, something that will kill you? if it was going to kill the child, it would have by now; and it hasn’t, so surely the child is heading in a right direction to be exploring and reclaiming their identity. and then the bridge - “growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?” ties back to i/me/myself’s grappling with the idea of self and existence in one’s body. growing up, how was the child’s relationship with the environment that dictated how they ought to exist and be perceived? and “what, you think ideas spread because they're good? / no, they spread because people like them” can be pointing to the conservative ideas that are perpetuated by the child’s family. these ideas do not spread because they’re good. they spread because the family wants an excuse from some higher power to discriminate against those they feel are outliers from the norm. “so here we are once again, holding, as it were, a mirror up to your mirror / i guess it's just something people do” can be pointing to how the way the child is trying to come to terms with their identity is by overcoming the toxic ways of thought that their parents taught them, and which their parents are still bound by. if the parents are to find out that their child is queer, their reaction will be to ask, “why? we don’t understand you?” but they are really only talking to the mirror, to the reflection they have constructed that they believe their child to be. their child is not that reflection, and they are going in circles, but that’s just what people do, i guess.

finally, the bridge being formatted sort of like one’s first session with a therapist or psychiatrist leads into marsha, thankk you for the dialectics.

marsha, thankk you for the dialectics: a heavily psychiatry-based song. marsha thankk is about the intertwining of the self with the illness and i value that meaning a lot. i can’t think of another way, nor do i particularly want to think of another way, to embed this song’s meaning into the child. it has grown obvious by this point that the child has their own mental illnesses to grapple with - whether they arose as a need to cope within their toxic home environment, or out of other factors, is not particularly important to be clarified. i would say that the meaning of this song in this musical is just what it was originally intended to be - the child, on their path to recovery, slowly separating those toxic coping mechanisms from themselves in order to really realize their identity.

love, me normally: i wrote a long ass post about this at 12am this morning.

memento mori: the musical’s closure. this song embodies a lot of nihilism about one’s existence and one’s meaning in existence, and i would like to think that this song being the musical’s closure is not closure in the sense that it gives you a “where are they now” glimpse, or that it gives you the final direction that the child has decided to head in. rather, memento mori exists in this musical as the child’s innermost thoughts about their own existence as somebody who seemingly defies the (supposed cishet) order of the universe. it is the child’s darkest, most shadowed and hidden ruminations about their life and what their death may bring, if anything at all. throughout the child’s life, throughout the musical, these thoughts have only been hidden, obscured and glimpsed in passing when the lyrical puzzles of the normal album’s previous songs unfurl (think, “if it was gonna kill you boy, it would have by now” and “am i pretty enough to fucking die” and “good news for the purists, they’ve discovered a cure for the symptoms of being alive / it’s a painless procedure with a low rate of failure, but very few patients survive”, etc). but as the musical’s finale, memento mori brings these thoughts into their very antithesis - into the light. it illuminates the rawness of the child’s pain in learning to accept and love themselves. it brings these thoughts into tangible and articulated reality for two reasons:

for the audience, as both a warning of the results of such a toxic and intolerant family/environment and an articulation of the thoughts perhaps many of us, ourselves, have to contend with at some point in our lives.

and for the child themselves, so that they can fully realize these thoughts. so that they can parse them, articulate them, unlearn them, and begin to heal.

memento mori in this musical is, paradoxically, a song about death that encourages life to heal.

anyways that’s what i’ve got so far now i have homework i should...do....oh god-

#will wood #will wood and the tapeworms #the normal album #suburbia overture #2econd 2ight 2eer #laplace's angel #i/me/myself #well better than the alternative #outliars and hyppocrates #blackboxwarrior #marsha thankk you for the dialectics #love me normally #memento mori #the normal album analysis #will wood analysis

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renjuseyo · 3 years

Text

pinwheel (2) ; woozi

group: seventeen

pairing: lee jihoon / reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis: even if you get lost and it takes you a while, come round and round back to me.

genre: angst with a happy ending

warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol

part one got good feedback so here’s part two written in jihoon’s pov :) it’s almost one am where i am so this hasn’t been proof read quite yet! but as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated! <3 you can find part one here

title inspiration: pinwheel by seventeen other songs: i wish by seventeen

there is a time, always, when jihoon closes his eyes and sees you in the center of his world.

when you two were in a relationship, thinking about each other was a given. wondering if the other had eaten yet or what they were up to was practically second nature, though in jihoon’s case, these thoughts were accompanied by his adoration for you. sometimes he’ll catch himself picturing you beside him, laughing so loudly that you’re snorting. it isn’t anything romantic; if he’s being honest, you have one of the weirdest laughs he’s ever heard. but as weird as it is, it’s both endearing and contagious, because it never fails to brighten his day a little more.

or he’ll picture you nagging at him, probably because he’s failed to take care of himself once again, whether it be because he accidentally skipped a meal or spent more time working on a project instead of sleeping. even if you may act like a parent more than a lover sometimes, you’re really taking care of jihoon, and in some ways, you’re the best one to do it. it brings him a sense of comfort, being able to shut his eyes and make you out so vividly in his head.

now, every time he thinks of you, pictures your boisterous laugh or your nagging lectures, all he can feel is hurt. he can’t hear your laugh without hearing your cries, nor can he see you nagging without picturing your painstaking silence. he knows it’s not right, not after he left you crying in your apartment, not even sparing a glance back. he doesn’t deserve to, anyways.

not many things can change all at once, he realizes, even if it’s already been two years. he still wonders how you are doing, sometimes if you’ve moved on, even. today is one of those days, it seems, because he’s supposed to be composing a piece for a project due a week from now. but instead of pumping out poetic verse after verse like the machine he is, he’s laying in bed, staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled against the ceiling as he goes down the inevitable spiral thoughts of you bring along. he isn’t quite sure why he hasn’t taken them down, considering how memories are drenched up just by staring at them for too long. even if they provide a dim glow amidst the pitch darkness, it doesn’t make things less lonely.

when he was dating you, he was an absolute workaholic, constantly pouring his all into his projects. ironically enough, now that you’re gone, he spends his days doing nothing instead of working to distract himself. he still goes about his day as usual, but he doesn’t put work above himself anymore.

he sighs, rolling to his side. time helps some and hurts others, but he finds himself somewhere in between in a grey area. he hasn’t quite moved on from the events yet, but the bitterness he felt is replaced with a subtle dullness in his head. it’s a blank feeling, almost as if it isn’t there.

but it is, to his dismay, and he’s reminded of it every time he stares at a blank space for a little too long. jihoon isn’t one to ponder on falling outs for a long time - “everything happens for a reason,” he always says. yet here he is, in the dullest area he’s ever known, being the most unproductive he’s ever been. his friends had long given up on him; even his friend jeonghan, who might be the stubbornest person he’s ever met, has stopped pushing him to hang out with their friends now. wonwoo still tries every now and then, but that’s because he feels a sense of duty as his best friend. besides, he probably has made more progress with you than him, if seeing him drop off coffee at your place each time is anything to go by.

the thought of you and wonwoo together creeps into his mind before he can do anything about it. he doesn’t have the right to feel jealous or uncomfortable - if anything, he’s a much better fit for you than he will ever be, even if it hurts to admit. wonwoo won’t break your heart like he did, and he’s thoughtful and observant, so you won’t have to worry about expressing your thoughts. jihoon knows you could care less about physical appearance, but wonwoo is undoubtedly one of the most attractive people he’s ever met, so that’s a bonus, too. you deserve someone that brilliantly shines like the sun, like wonwoo. not someone who cowers in the darkness like the moon, like him.

but even if wonwoo isn’t the perfect match for you, he knows you’ll eventually find someone who does, because you’re just magnetic like that.

(he isn’t quite sure how long he’s spent wallowing his insecurities. but by the time he comes out of his head, he seats himself at his desk with newfound inspiration, writing i wish at the top of a new page.)

the four years jihoon spent dating you, and the several he spent as your best friend, has undoubtedly been the best years he’s spent. it isn’t like there’s a new adventure every day, because truthfully, you two spend more time being couch potatoes together than going out and exploring the world. but the sense of comfort and security he feels with you, the one that reminds him so dearly of home, is reason enough for him to spend each day contently.

if someone asked you how your relationship worked out as well as it did, he would say it’s because of your mutual respect for each other, and the confidence you had in your love for each other. your respect probably stems from your differences; if you’re loud and energetic, jihoon is quiet and reserved. when you relish in physical touch, jihoon resorts to subtle actions. some may even say you two are complete opposites, baffled at your compatibility, though others might argue that it’s these traits that made things just... work. truthfully, jihoon would argue that there couldn’t possibly be a more compatible pair that just got each other.

with such a perfect fit, how could you two have possibly fallen apart, some might wonder? he wonders this every now and then, too, though the answer to him is clear as day. and who else is there to blame except for himself?

having faith in each others’ love is the pillar to every relationship, and by doubting his, jihoon inevitably slipped down a rabbit hole of insecurities and what-ifs. and with these came the thought of you deserving much better than what he can offer, which eventually led to the mess that was two years ago.

now, if someone asked jihoon if he loves you, he would answer yes, in a heartbeat. but if someone also asked if he had any regrets, he would answer no, in the exact same time span. you deserve someone who won’t fall down said rabbit hole, even if it hurts him to think of you with someone new. love is a powerful motivator, anyways.

(jihoon’s perched on a stool by the bar, a glass of beer in his hand. moments later, wonwoo slides himself beside him, holding a new bottle. he raises an eyebrow in questioning. “bartender said it’s for you, from the girl in the blue dress.”

he scans the crowd until his eyes drift onto someone matching that description. she holds up her own glass in acknowledgement, sending him a flirty smile. he’s a little surprised considering how he rarely stands out like this. unsure of what to do, he sends her a polite smile before looking back at wonwoo. “no thanks.”

wonwoo shrugs, taking a swig of his own bottle. “suit yourself.” the bar is densely packed with people among their own cliques, eagerly engaged in conversation. it’s loud and reeks of alcohol, but jihoon feels like he’s in his own little bubble, save for wonwoo by his side. they both silently drink their respective beverages, taking in the crowd behind them, until wonwoo turns to face him. “care to tell me why you’re here, drinking your sorrows away?”

he rolls his eyes. “i’m not depressed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

he shrugs, holding up his hands defensively. “sorry. forgot you’re all sunshine and rainbows.” there’s a quick pause, and jihoon can tell he has something to say. “you know,” he begins, swirling his drink around, “(name) asked me how you’ve been.”

jihoon can feels his lungs contracting together, but he ignores the feeling, instead intensely staring at his drink. wonwoo continues, “i said you were doing okay.” he turns his head to give him a look of confusion, since wonwoo has experienced firsthand just how “okay” he’s really been. “well, you’re doing better than (name) is,” he explains. “i just thought you might want to know.”

he looks back at his drink, biting his lip. he supposes wonwoo does have a point, because he hasn’t turned into a sobbing mess like people had thought he would be. but then again, jihoon seldom cries, and he isn’t the most expressive, so no one is really surprised. he chooses to think of you instead. did you ask to see if he was still affected? did you ask to see if he was doing better?

his thoughts are running several miles per hour, but thankfully, wonwoo has known him long enough to read his thoughts, and he almost always gets them right. “(name)’s doing better compared to a year ago, but not much has changed.” he pauses to gauge jihoon’s reaction. “you know, i don’t understand why you don’t go back. you still love (name)-”

“no.”

it’s a simple response, really, but from the sudden edge in his voice wonwoo knows better than to pry. he knows it’s because of jihoon’s insecurities and because it would be a complete dick move to ask for your forgiveness two years later. not after he recklessly split your heart in two. you deserve better than a jerk like him, anyways.

jihoon knows this, and he knows wonwoo is only asking because he’s your friend as much as he’s his. he never gets less defensive, though.)

for someone who claims to be laid back, wonwoo sure is stubborn.

jihoon knows this, having known him since high school, yet the observation dawns to him every now and then. now is one of those moments, he notes, having been dragged out of their dorms to the supermarket. he knows fully well that wonwoo is very capable of bringing those groceries in by himself; he’s personally seen him carry two bags loaded with groceries inside without even breaking a sweat. but suddenly wonwoo, who enjoys being by himself more than normal, suddenly craves company from the very person who’s tried to stay indoors more.

“stop frowning, jihoon. you’ll get wrinkles that way,” wonwoo tells him, browsing through the shelves of cereal. “have you seen the honey bunches of oats, by the way? the almond ones.”

jihoon’s still brooding, arms tightly folded across his chest. “you wouldn’t even have to look at my face if i could’ve just stayed home,” he snaps. “and they’re to the right. you missed them a while ago.

he heads to the right as told and makes a noise of satisfaction upon finding what he needed. “come on, jihoon, you need to get some vitamin d in you. staying inside all of the time is bad for you.” wonwoo holds up a box of cereal, grinning. “see? if you weren’t here, i wouldn’t have even found it.”

"it’s night time, and your eyes can’t be that bad,” jihoon snorts, shuffling towards him. he unfolds his arms and shoves them in his pockets instead.

wonwoo rolls his eyes. “you’ve seen me run into a wall because i didn’t have my glasses. i think that itself proves a point.” touche. “anyways, i think we’ve gotten just about everything. is there anything you need?” he asks.

jihoon pauses to think of things they need. “we’re out of ramen,” he answers.

and with that, the two start pushing their cart towards the aisle of asian foods. it’s not surprising to see the shelves of ramen covered by people their age - after all, ramen is practically a necessity for college students. they make their way through the throngs of people when suddenly, one person’s cart abruptly runs into a shelf. packs of ramen fall from the shelves, and they can see someone who seems very embarrassed, bending down to pick up the fallen items as fast as possible. there are people looking at the scene, though apparently none are helpful enough to help.

jihoon makes his way towards the person, helping scoop up the variety of ramen. his eye catches sight of a six-pack of samyang ramen, and he can’t help the bittersweet smile that rests on his lips. you used to compare him to the chicken, and it was funny at the time. now it just reminds him of memories he doesn’t want to recall.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” he hears someone mumble beside him.

he scoops an armful of ramen from the floor and sends you a reassuring smile. “don’t apologize, you’re all right.”

the stranger turns their head so fast that it startles him, when he looks up, he decides there and then the universe really might be out to get him. like some romantic drama, his eyes connect with your wide ones, and your initial nerves seems to intensify more. his smile falls, and he’s staring at you, trying his hardest to remove any signs of emotions on his face. it seems it’s working, because he sees you look away at an impossible speed.

(he hopes you didn’t stare long enough to notice the bags under his eyes, the number of sleepless nights he’s had because of you.)

before he can say anything, you hastily throw the fallen items onto the shelf, even throwing some into your cart. you throw out a quick thank-you before grabbing your cart and zooming down the aisle at an inhumane speed. he’s left alone, crouched on the floor of the ramen aisle, probably looking like a fool with his arms full of ramen staring at an empty space with wide eyes.

as soon as the pile on the floor has been cleared, wonwoo slowly rolls his cart towards jihoon. “was that...” he glances at him to see his reaction. jihoon must have some grief stricken look on his face, because for all of his stubbornness, wonwoo drops the question like hot iron.

they roll their cart towards the cash register, silence lingering in the air. thankfully, wonwoo doesn’t question it, only asking if he’s gotten everything he needed.

he also doesn’t question the six-pack of samyang ramen that had miraculously matieralized in the cart, inserting his card into the card reader. and for all of his frugality, wonwoo doesn’t tell jihoon to pay him back, either.

when they slide into wonwoo’s car after throwing their groceries into the trunk, jihoon turns to glance at him, who’s connecting his phone to the car. “hey, wonwoo?”

he turns to face him, raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement. “yes?”

inhale on five... exhale on ten... and repeat. now that’s not something he’s had to do in a while. he isn’t sure why he feels so nervous - it’s wonwoo of all people. he’s seen jihoon through his worst moments and even lives to tell the tale about it. shutting his eyes, he sighs. “thanks.” he awkwardly rubs his thighs, eyes trained everywhere but at him. now that he thinks about it, he has a lot to thank wonwoo for. for the times he helped him get through his breakup, for the times he’s checked up on you, for the times he forced him out of their apartment, for the times he bought food and groceries for jihoon even though he didn’t need to, for the times he brought coffee to your apartment. for not giving up on him.

wonwoo shrugs, turning the keys in the ignition. “i’d rather not deal with a zombie in my apartment. you still need to pay rent, anyways.”

jihoon’s evening is supposed to look like this: buy groceries for wonwoo and two large bottles of coke-cola for himself, order pizza for the two of them, and spend at least an hour working on his latest project. he’s gotten one of the three parts down, having just come home from the supermarket.

he has two large bottles of coke-cola on the dining table, and if he’s being honest, they’re the only things he’s looking forward to tonight. he’s in the middle of putting carton of milk and fruits in their refrigerator when he hears soft knocks on his door. huh, weird. he sure wasn’t expecting anyone, and wonwoo has keys to their apartment.

he shuts the fridge and starts walking towards their entryway until the soft knocks are suddenly replaced with urgent rapping. he jumps and pauses in stunned silence, before quickening his pace towards the door. when he peeks through the peephole, he’s relieved to see it’s only his neighbor, lee dokyeom, and not a serial killer. he’s in the year below him and is a nice underclassman - nicer than the ones he knows, anyways. sweet, patient guy. definitely not the type to knock on doors so urgently.

jihoon cracks the door open in confusion. “is there something you need?”

dokyeom nervously looks left and right as if he fears something. so perhaps the possibility of a serial killer isn’t thrown out the window, he decides. “i saw someone on the first floor who was looking for you, and they looked really aggravated. just- be careful, okay?” he whispers. before he can say anything, dokyeom scurries away and darts back into his own home.

well he’ll be damned. he supposes this does add a little zest to his mundane routine, and what screams zest quite like an aggravated person looking for him? he shuts the door and locks it before contemplating the events that could have possibly led to this. looks like pizza and his project will have to wait.

a few minutes later, jihoon hears footsteps stoming outside of his apartment. before he can ready a weapon, loud knocks echo throughout his apartment, though they’re much louder and much more aggressive than dokyeom’s. unsure of what to do, he hesitantly peeks through the peephole. when he does, he fully expects to see someone that screams serial killer material. perhaps someone with a gun or a knife, or someone wearing all black with murderous eyes. saying he’s surprised to see you standing outside of his door, angrily clutching onto a sheet of paper, is an understatement.

wait... sheet of paper?

perhaps the potential of a serial killer is better than what he’ll soon face, he decides.

mustering all of the courage in him, jihoon nervously unlocks the door and cracks it open. you’re standing before him, eyes narrowed; if looks could kill, he would be a very dead man. if he’s being honest, this is definitely not how he expected seeing you again. the fates are a funny thing.

“is there-”

“lee. ji. hoon,” you growl, grabbing the collar of his sweater. you drag him into his apartment and kick the door close before pushing him into a wall. under normal circumstances, jihoon would be very flustered. a little turned on, maybe.

but in these circumstances, he’s very nervous and a little afraid. “yes?” he squeaks.

you glare at him, pointing a finger at the sheet of paper in your hands. “what the fuck is this?” so much for small talk. he doesn’t have time to answer, because then you shove the paper in his face. it’s his final song dedicated to you, the one he had written after breaking your heart as a desperate attempt to get over you.

it didn’t work.

“funny that you should ask,” jihoon nervously laughs. “because-”

“don’t act like a smartass right now. you-” you inhale on five... exhale on ten... and repeat. “you wrote me a song like this and a letter on the back trying to justify leaving me without any answers and expect me to just take it?”

looking back, he does realize it is kind of a horrible move. just more reason why he should never get back together with you, because as much as he yearns it, he doesn’t deserve to. “no, i suppose not.”

his nerves quickly disappear when he sees the look of hurt that washes over your face, all traces of anger gone. now he just feels his heart dropping all the way down to his toes. “i thought you left because you didn’t love me anymore.” your voice is quieter, a stark contrast from your yelling, though it’s the way your voice wobbles, the way it sounds so fragile that stands out to jihoon. he can feel the two years of grief hitting him in all directions, seeing you so hurt. “you just disappeared from the face of earth. why?”

you know the answer, having read his letter and analyzing the lyrics of his song. but you’d take the words out of his mouth than on paper any day, no matter how unreliable. jihoon can only give you his guiltiest look, though it can’t even begin to compare to the guilt eating at his heart. he doesn’t respond immediately, frozen in place. the silence hangs heavy between them, and he swears this is all a dream. because you aren’t real, standing before him, begging him for answers.

but the sharp inhale that leaves your mouth is a harsh reminder that this is reality. he’s the one who hurt you as you struggle to keep your composure.

“i’m not good enough for you,” he begins. “i don’t...” inhale on five... exhale on ten... and repeat. “i don’t love the way you do, with your need to touch and for constant assurance. i can’t easily hold your hand or easily tell you i love you, because as blunt as i am, it’s so, so hard for me to just go out and say it. you fall into step with people like soonyoung so easily, because they don’t shy away from touch like i do. and you both can say you love each other without batting an eye and still be genuine about it. but i can’t do any of those things.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to speak. he’s already spiraling down a rabbit hole, too deep to come back out. his secret’s already out, so there’s no stopping it. “i’m not good at expressing how i feel, a complete contrast from you considering how you practically wear your heart on your sleeve. you deserve someone who’s love comes in the form of warm touches and firm affirmations, the same way you love people. i don’t want you to adjust the way you express love just because i can’t.” he doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels something wet roll down his cheeks. you’re just as surprised as he is, because he rarely cries. “you deserve better.”

his final words have some sort of domino effect on you, because as soon as he says them, you march straight up to him and squish his cheeks together as hard as you can. he makes a muffled noise of confusion, staring at you with startled eyes.

“you...” you’re already shedding tears, but it’s the fierce look in your eyes that catches his attention. “you stupid, fucking, dumb idiot!”

you’ve always had a colorful vocabulary. “who are you to decide who’s good for me and who isn’t? mind you, i’m only a month younger than you, and i’m quite capable of making my own decisions!”

you continue, “i’m not dumb, jihoon! i was your best friend before your lover, you dumbass! i know better than anyone how much you hate physical touch and how hard it is for you to put your feelings into words! do you think i jumped into this relationship completely forgetting that?” you don’t even try to hide the way your voice cracks anymore. “i’m in love with you because of how stupidly organized you are. i’m in love with you because you feel emotions more deeply than others. but what really made me decide to pursue you is the fact that you never tried to change yourself for anyone! so what happened?” you sob, loosening your hold.

jihoon’s heart clenches. “i thought... having to adjust to fit what i felt comfortable with discomforted you. i thought you would’ve been happier-”

“YOU MADE ME THE HAPPIEST, YOU DUMBASS!!” you yell. “do you not realize that this whole time, these are all things you thought? because you never once tried to talk to me about how you felt?” you let go of him and walk away, turning your back on him. “the only way we can ever resolve issues like these is if we talk things out. i know you don’t like to, jihoon, but look what the alternative did to us.” you gesture at the state you two are in: crying, guilty messes, letting lack of communication completely derail your relationship.

perhaps this was what wonwoo had been trying to tell him all along: communication is key. he realizes this too late, now standing in his apartment with your heart in his hands, and his in yours. the guilt of taking the initiative all by himself without consulting you and the fact that even after everything, you can still confidently say that you love him, is so overwhelming that his knees buckle and he slides onto the ground, tears silently falling down his cheeks. you really were right when you called him a stupid idiot and more. he deserves all of those names and tenfold for doing this to you.

a silence hangs in the air, and he wonders if you’ve gone, too afraid to look up. a part of him wants you to stay, though he can understand if you left. you deserve that much. but then you slide onto the ground before him with matching tear stains, and you cup his cheeks. it’s a silent question of consent, and he closes his eyes, letting himself sink into your hands.

you lean in and rest your forehead against his. it’s warm and makes him feel a fuzzy feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. “you’re really fucking stupid,” you murmur. “what were you thinking?”

“of you,” he whispers. he can feel your breath fanning against his face.

“obviously not, if we had to take a detour to get to where we are now,” you respond. “you’re lucky i love you.”

at this, jihoon opens his eyes and removes your hands from his face, standing up. even after unnecessarily breaking your heart, even after making these decisions himself?

you’ve known jihoon long enough to read him, even if he prides himself in being a closed book. “i’m still very pissed, and i’m not stupid enough to just jump into a relationship and forget everything that’s happened. but...” you stand up and take a step closer to him. it’s careful and precise, like how you’ve always taken care of him. “you jump, i jump?”

it’s something you two always say when you’re about to do something stupid. you and jihoon are an inseparable pair; even if jihoon is the logical one of you two, he’ll still find himself being roped into another one of your reckless shenanigans. he can still remember the one time in middle school you were trying to get a very scared jihoon to ride a newly opened roller coaster at the amusement park you two had gone on for a field trip.

“i would rather keep my remains, thanks,” he remembers saying.

but you’re stubborn personified, and you’re very firm on having your partner-in-crime beside you. “you jump, i jump?” you had asked.

he knew you wouldn’t push him if you really knew he couldn’t do it, but apparently you just know what things he can do, given the right push. that push comes in the form of that phrase, because then he finds himself climbing onto one of the seats, nervously clutching onto your hand.

but this isn’t middle school anymore, and jihoon knows even with these cleared up misunderstandings, it’s going to take a while for both you and him to assimilate yourself into a proper relationship.

yet he’s never wanted anything so badly anymore. he’s yearned for your smile, your laugh... you, for too long, and he would be a fool to give up this second chance. he takes a step towards you and laces your fingers together. he seldom touches anyone like this, and he can tell you’ve missed it, tightening your grip. “you jump, i jump,” he repeats with more confidence.

everything’s a little blurry, probably because of the tears in both of your eyes, but the one thing that’s clear to him is when you dive into his arms, burying your head in his chest. the last time you had done this, he left with your heart in his hands.

jihoon wraps his arms around you. “i’m so sorry,” he mumbles, burying his head on top of yours. “i got a little lost on my way here.” it’s supposed to be a lighthearted joke, though he can hear you sniffle.

“you came back to me,” you quietly laugh, a little unable to believe that you’re in his arms again and that this isn’t just a dream. your voice is wet and raw from crying and yelling, but jihoon’s never heard a prettier sound. “that’s all that matters.”

#seventeen #seventeen vocal unit #kpop #seventeen x reader #seventeen x gender neutral reader #seventeen x female reader #seventeen x male reader #woozi #lee jihoon #woozi x reader #woozi x gender neutral reader #woozi x female reader #woozi x male reader #renjuseyo : seventeen #renjuseyo : fics

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mxtcha-tea · 3 years

Text

Ruby Chocolate.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Neither bitter, milky or sweet, but a tension of fresh berry fruitiness; 47.3% cocoa solids; doesn’t have a definite trait but rather seen as mysterious and unique.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷summary; looking for lost souls with the laziest person in campus is probably the dumbest idea your homeroom teacher can think of, or is it?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷genre; one-sided enemies to lover, brief mentions of the afterlife and concept of souls and ghouls (non of it are true and is for plot purpose only), fluff and crack all mixed together at some point, slight angst but not too sed, dark academia au, reader being in denial that they love Suna, slight college au vibes but dark academia theme of course, [if there’s anything else I forgot to add, feel free to remind me :)]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷word count; 10k+ [of confusion]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷featuring; suna rintarou + gn!reader [they/them pronouns] [If they’re any parts that I miss, remind me mkay? :)]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷chef note; AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I don’t know if I like it, my brain kept saying pog at it i mean, sdksdhsk, just read it all by yourself :’) also I’m gonna let you all figure out the timestamps for each section break ;)

“I refuse,”

Those words left your mouth in an instant before the teacher could even finish her sentences. The person next to you took a glance at you before briefly shrugging. Your homeroom teacher looks between you and the male with a frown on her face,

“Don’t be like that [y/n], it’s only for a week. If you don’t have any reports about it, then we’ll get the higher grounds to deal with the case,”

“That’s, not the problem here, Miss Mochizuki. The ACTUAL problem that I have for this case though,”

You turned your head and glared slightly at the almost too familiar, fox-like eyes person with his hands messily tucked inside his jacket, “Is because he’s tagging along with me,”

Suna Rintarou.

One of the, no, the laziest person on the whole campus, might be even the entire land. There are a lot of reasons why you hated him. Suna’s always late to class and doesn’t even acknowledge the teacher nagging at him.

He always eats and sleeps in class whenever he can, not to mention that he’s absolutely irresponsible. You have a hard time trying to study, paying attention to what the teachers are saying with his figure draping over his desk from the corner of your eyes.

Or the loud and obnoxious sounds of him eating the chips he sneaked in. It’s driving you crazy every time, but that’s only the minor reasons.

The real reason you hold a grudge on this immature ‘Tibetan Sand Fox’ is because of that one freshman memory you had with him. Back when autumn already ended, you rolled onto the kingdom’s academies to pursue your career. But this man…

He really had to destroy your first impression in front of the whole academy. You’re on your way to go to your classroom to prepare for the ice breaking session, looking calm as ever.

Unlike this guy, he’s rushing to put his coat on and looks like he’s late for something. Suna at first glance, he looks like a pretty decent person and you’re going to admit that you did find him attractive at first.

The twinkling lights coming from his enchanting yellow irises and the mere look of his soft dark brown hair fits perfectly well with him. That’s what you thought before, until he bumped into you without looking and spilled the coffee in his hands to your shirt.

It stained the white material so badly and left a big spot right on your chest. Both of your eyes widened at that and caught each other’s eyes,

“Sorry,”

That was the last thing and only thing he said before walking away, leaving you to deal with the embarrassment alone. The surrounding students watched you with pity and whispered to each other rather than helping you clean up.

You can definitely feel your cheeks heating at the stares you’re getting, biting the insides of your mouth before quickly picking up the coffee lid that fell down from Suna’s cup and walking away to find the bathroom.

What’s even worse after that is you didn’t know where the bathroom is so you had to ask the students around, while still having the stain on your shirt.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for at least one of them to tell you the direction, giving you a nod of pity because of your condition now. You nodded at them back before speed walking towards the bathroom with your hand covering your face in humiliation.

At least you have spare clothes inside your bag and then after changing, you went on your way as if nothing ever happened before. But the memory still stuck inside your head like a magnet.

Now, you’re standing there with him besides you, because you got called by your homeroom teacher to ask you two for a favor.

From what she said, the lost souls from section 5 escaped and are now roaming the old academy’s library. And she had requested both you and Suna to find all 10 of them. Together.

Albeit knowing your situation with the male, she still pestered you to go with him as a ‘bonding’ moment to ease up the tension between you two. It annoys you, but Suna doesn’t seem to even care about it.

“I’d asked some other students from your class but they declined, and I can’t ask for your seniors because they’re preparing for an exam next month,”

You slightly massaged your temple in frustration, shutting your eyes while you’re at it. You can feel Suna’s stare creating a hole at the back of your head. You don’t really know what he’s thinking since you’re not a mind reader, but you can already tell that he’s looking at you as if you’re a fool in distress.

A groan escaped your lips before opening your eyes again and stare into Miss Mochizuki's eyes with a bored expression, “Fine,”

“I’ll do it,”

You can hear a slight cough coming from your left as you turn your head once again at the fox, “Correction, we’ll do it,”

His pupils shifted from you to your teacher while nodding a little. She clapped her hands in relief, the usual smile she has returning to her face, “Thank goodness, I hope you two stand by your statement and I better see your faces in the dining hall tomorrow,”

Before you can even respond, he cuts you off. Great, “No problem, and you can count on us of course,”

You scoffed, more like you’re the only one doing all the jobs. You nodded at your teacher for the last time before you turned on your heel and walked away.

The sounds of the footsteps behind you are getting louder and louder the more you try to speed walk back to your dorm. You stopped in your tracks and so did the footsteps of a certain person.

A glance was brought to Suna’s view before you fully turned your body to face him, slouching slightly with his terrible figure, “What do you want?”

“Aren’t we like, you know, supposed to find out how to catch these so called ‘souls’,”

“They already thought us how in the class session just a week ago,”

He tilted his head slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t hear what the teach says,”

Of course. You scowled at him before looking away, “Well, you can learn it again all by yourself before tomorrow comes-”

Before you can even walk away again, he got a hold of your wrist and spun you around to face him. His eyes stares into yours for a slight second before he opened his mouth,

“You know that I have trouble studying alone, so I need your help to teach me about these souls things or whatever,” “And why would I?”

You yanked your hand away from his grip, rubbing your wrist slightly. Suna sighed,

“Look, I may not know a lot about this, but catching one of ’em seemed like a tough job for only one person to handle, isn’t it?”

No responses from you, but you didn’t seem to deny it by the look on your face, so he continued,

“If you can teach me how to catch these souls back to where they belong, it would’ve been easier and you don’t have to spend your precious time on me for too long,”

As much as you hate to admit it, he has a point. Suna always knew about your hatred towards him, whether it’s from your cold stares at him to you brushing him off every time he approaches you to ask a question.

It’s pretty obvious, since you always avoid him no matter what. He doesn’t take it to heart cause he had experienced it when he was a kid. But at some point, those indifferent you have towards him felt slightly painful.

As if he doesn’t really like it that you hate him, or the fact that he looks up to you. How can anyone not?

You’re enchantingly alluring not to mention one of the top students in his year. You never fail any tests and seem like a people magnet, always talking to everyone you come across to.

He felt small around you and to be paired in a case together? He thought you can just stomp on him like he’s nothing.

But, it’s a great opportunity too. Like what Miss Mochizuki said, it could be a bonding moment for the two of you. And for him to prove you that he’s not a bad person like what you see him to be.

Suna can feel his heart beating a million times an hour, locked in your unwavering stare before you shake your head, “After lunch break, we’re going to the library,”

He blinked in surprise and before he can react, you started walking away but stopped again, standing there for a second,

“Don’t be late,”

That’s the last thing you said before leaving him dumbfounded on his spot. He watches your figure fade away from his vision as he sighed. A small smile twitched upon his facial features,

“Can’t promise that,”

“This simpleton, I swear to god,”

You tapped your foot with impatience, looking at both your left and right trying to find the slouching figure of Suna Rintarou but he still hasn't come even after 13 minutes of you waiting inside the library.

The people inside quivers a bit at the dark aura radiating from you and literally anyone from a 5 miles distance can certainly feel it.

A chuckle can be heard besides you as you turn your head around to see none other than your friend from the same classroom,

“Still waiting huh?”

“That’s the problem here, Keiji! He’s so irresponsible with whatever task was given. I told him to arrive after lunch break and yet, that fool still haven’t show his head anywhere,”

You ranted to him before going back to tapping your foot while having your arms crossed, huffing frustratedly. Akaashi Keiji, who is also one of the top students of the academy and your closest friend in the classroom,

“I think I saw him still being in the dining hall, talking with his friends from the other class,”

“HE IS?!”

Akaashi flinched at your sudden outburst, you realized what you had done and mumbled an apology before looking away. The male sighed, a small smile appearing on his face, “You shouldn’t go hard on him. I mean, this is the first time he had ever agreed to study,”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?” you caught his eyes, showing a small glint of mischief, “What I’m saying is that Rintarou always decline my offer to have a study session with him,”

“Yeah, I know that it’s not surprising that he declined it since he’s not the type to study as you can tell. But what’s bizarre is that Rintarou asked you to tutor him without a second thought when the case was brought to you two, and without hesitating. Don’t you find that weird?”

You shrugged, “It’s good that he got that inside his head but to be honestly, it is kind of weird. Also, why did you even offer to tutor him in the first place, Keiji?”

The ravenette chuckled slightly, turning his head around to look back at you, “Well, did you actually know that-”

And before he can finish his sentences, the tall brunette that you had been waiting for arrived in front of you. Both you and Akaashi stopped your conversation to look at his panting form, probably from the running he did.

Suna quickly put his head up and looks between you and Akaashi before opening his mouth, “Hey,”

Without even hesitating you aggressively pull his collar shirt and drags him inside the library, nagging him for being late,

“You’re late, I told you not to but you didn’t listen to me and decided to hang out with your friends at the dining hall,”

“What, how did you know that I was there?”

“Don’t change the subject,”

“Geez fine, also i’m not really that late,”

“I’ve waited for 13 minutes,”

“Doesn’t seem too long for me,”

“Just go grab a book so that we can start already,”

“Yes, ma’am,”

Akaashi watches you walk away with the tall lad before snickering to himself, going back to finding another book to read.

You slam the book down as you can see the male’s figure flinched at your action from the corner of your eyes. You did nothing but give him a cold side eye, sighing and proceed to open the book.

Suna watches you flip through the pages, brushing your thumb on the title every second to check the words before finally finding the subject you’re looking for.

You slide the book to him to show the page you’re in, “Here it is. Go read it by yourself,”

The male looks at the book, then at you and then back to the book. He held onto the cover and scanned the words one by one. After reading for a minimum of 6 words, he puts the book down.

You confusedly look at him, “Why did you stop reading?”

“Too many words,” he can hear you sighing for the nth time before the pages of the book are squeezed up to his face, “There’s no way you can just catch the souls without reading what they are, just read it! It’s not that hard,”

“Pfft, yes it is. I don’t even like to read books in the first place,” both of you struggled with each other, him trying to push the book away from his face while you’re trying to smack on it.

He finally got a good hold on it and put it down back on the table, “I already told you that reading is no good for me, I literally can’t learn anything by just looking at words,”

You glared at him with a black aura coming from you. Suna shivers at that, sweat dropping before putting both of his hands up to show mercy. Your eyes then turn back to its original annoyed look as you rest your forehead on top of your palm.

His eyes stare at your figure, blinking a few times, “You know, you can just properly tutor me on how these souls work, explaining it or something,”

Suna flinched when you shot your head up and directly turn your pupils at him, “Yeah, sure, I don’t mind,”

But he did certainly saw you rolling your eyes, taking the book in front of him and scanned the sentences for only a few seconds before putting your eyes back at him,

“Do you have a notebook and a pen with you?”

“Am I seeing this right?”

Akaashi turned his head to his senior, resting his arm over the table he’s sitting at. Konoha stares at both of you and Suna’s figure talking about the subject in hand, and surprisingly enough, the brunette even has the energy to write what you’re explaining to him.

“Is the infamous Suna Rintarou is actually studying with the person who hated him the most?” “We live in a weird world, Konoha. Maybe this is god’s work to get them to be nice with each other,”

Konoha snickered before turning his head at a certain owl like person and after a few minutes, his face contorted into an annoyed look,

“Bokuto, how long are you going to pick a book??”

“Sorry! Wait, I think I found one!”

“Well, then hurry up,”

“No need to rush me out, I got this!”

A chorus of ‘shhh’ filled in the room as Bokuto sheepishly mumbled an apology before quickly grabbing the book. Akaashi sighed while Konoha shakes his head at his classmate’s antics.

Suna tapped his pen onto his notebook, filled with words that seemed like only he can understand and a few doodles, looking back at you explaining the concept of souls to him,

“Now you know what souls are?” The male nodded, briefly taking a glance at his notebook again,

“These souls are basically dead people from the past that didn’t make it through the barrier between this world and the afterlife. They’re harmless so it won’t be a problem for people to encounter them,”

You snap your fingers at his response, “Correct, and are souls and ghouls the same thing?” You asked again, “No, not at all,”

“A ghoul is more like an entity that robs graves and feeds on corpse, they’re pretty harmful so hafta avoid ‘em at all cost,”

A hum of affirmation and nod was sent his way as he sighs in relief, finally understanding the concept. And thought to himself, that you’re a pretty good tutor, not that he’ll admit it in front of your face though.

You read back the content inside the book while waiting for Suna to finish writing the remaining notes down. And to slightly collect your thoughts. Despite never hearing anything in class, he’s actually a quick learner and is a good listener when he tries to be.

Not to mention that he sometimes crack a joke or two to lighten up the mood, and unfortunate enough, he caught you snickering at one of his bad jokes,

“Are you actually laughing right now?”

“What are you talking about,”

“Oh playing dumb now huh? I didn’t know you’re that kind of type but you totally did laugh at my jokes,”

“No, I didn’t,”

“Pfft, yes you did, ma’am. There’s no need to deny it,”

You hit his head with his notebook with a small ‘oof’ in response, “Shut up and get back to work,”

And you’re actually...enjoying tutoring him right now- No, you’re only here to teach this idiot of a person about souls and how to catch it and that’s it. You have also tutored a few students before inside the library and at the same spot,

But why does it feel different with him?

“Now that we already covered that part, let’s get to the real point here; how to catch souls,”

You hold out your hand to him as Suna puts his notebook onto your palm, watching you take it and start sketching onto it. He leaned a bit from his spot to see you drawing out a picture of a gas lamp.

After finished sketching it, you show the book to him and started explaining again, “As you can tell, this gas lamp is the main tool of catching the souls,”

“Basically, when we light up the lamp, it’ll absorb any type of lights surrounding it which includes the souls. It’s confirmed souls are made out of lights so when exposed to any main source of lights, they’ll get trapped inside it, which is also the reason why…”

You waited a bit, averting your eyes at him. He does the same, but with confusion before it clicked right into him. His mouth turned into an ‘o’ shape, continuing your statement,

“-they roam at night, so that they won’t be exposed and absorbed by the sun,”

“Exactly,”

Suna nodded, feeling a little bit smart and it might be just him but he thought he saw your mouth twitched into a small smile just now. But it’s barely even visible so he won’t trust his brain this time, though he hoped that you’re happy that he’s finally understanding it,

“And that’s all,” “That’s all?” “Yep, tomorrow we meet up at the dining hall after dinner, then we can start preparing for the search,”

You close the book and put it back to it’s shelf, you hand him his pen back as he takes it from you. His cheeks tinged a bit at how briefly your fingers brushed his. He tried to not make it obvious but he can’t help but fluster at the mere touch,

“I hope you won’t be late this time…” He flinched at your tone to see you glaring at him, but it somewhat, a little bit toned down than what you usually do. Then again, he still nodded as your stare softened almost too quickly,

“Good, see you then,”

And then, something that he didn’t expect from you happened. You hold out your hand and wave at him before walking out of the library. He blinked, did you just wave him goodbye?

No, that seemed impossible coming from a person like you, the one that hated him the most. You didn’t care about him or even acknowledge him in the first place, you’re only doing this for the case. Or did you even hate him in the first place?

Suna blushed bright red at that thought before hearing Akaashi said to him,

“Well, that doesn’t seem very [y/n] at all, don’t you think,” He turned around to see the ravenette smirking at him, taking a seat at where you previously sat at, “Do you know what that means Akaashi?”

“Hm, maybe they started getting comfortable with you, but you’ll never know right? Maybe you should watch them closely more often,”

The brunette looks down at his note, scanning your sketch of the gas lamp while brushing the thin lines with his fingers.

Do you even hate him?

You walked through the halls after exiting the library but then stopped next to the big glass window. You stood there, frozen as if you had turned into stone,

“[Y/N], WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS??”

You whispered yelled to yourself while lightly slapping your face to get your head back to reality. Sure, you do hate him right? You hate him so much because of the freshman memories and the way he’s just very ignorant in class.

And the way his lean body figure just draped over his desk, showing his toned muscles behind his tight white collar shirt. And the way he’ll just lean over you whenever he wanted to ask a question, his handsome face and beautiful eyes scanning your figure-

“NOOO, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???”

Your hand tugged the hem of your shirt, biting your lips at the thought as your face heated up. You scoffed, shaking your head before speed walking away from the halls with a hesitant smile on your face, truly believing that you hate Suna Rintarou.

It’s true that you hate him, you even admitted it to yourself and everyone else. You really hate him for the things he’s irresponsible for and the things he’d done to you,

So, why is it so hard to hate him now?

“DUDE, YOU WHAT??”

“TSUMU, STOP BEING SO LOUD, I’M TRYNA TO MAKE SOME FOOD,”

“WHY’RE YA EVEN MAKIN’ FOOD INSIDE OUR DORM IN THE FIRST PLACE,”

A pillow smacked into Atsumu’s face as he glared at Ginjima who threw it at him, “You both are too loud, quiet down or else we’ll get nagged again!” “Sheesh,” the blonde scoffed before launching onto his bed and throwing the pillow back at Ginjima,

“So, back to Mr.hated-by-[y/n]-[l/n] situation-” “-that name’s suck-” “-shaddup, samu- anyways, do y'all start going good or something? Hm?” he rested his head onto his pillow, looking into his friend’s eyes,

“Nah, we’re still on the bad side I think,” “Pfft, you think? Suna, we heard the news, they’re literally into you now that you show yer ‘cool’ side to them,”

Suna cringed at that before rolling his eyes and reading back the book in his hands, “Also, when did ya even start reading books all of the sudden? I thought you hated eating words,”

“Eating what?” Osamu looks at his twin brother with a confused expression, the bowl of rice in his hand was half eaten along with the omelette in front of him,

“That’s literally what Suna said when he read books for the first time,”

Ginjima snickered at that memory and looks at Suna, “Pfft yeah, he even said that it doesn’t taste good,”

All of them, except Suna, laughed at that while the brunette just scoffed before the door of their room was opened, “Omi-omi! How's the bath? Hm?”

“Shut up, Miya,” Sakusa spite at him as he can see Osamu looking up from his bowl of rice with an offended look, “ The blonde Miya,” and with only that, he softened up and went back to chewing his food.

Komori followed him from behind before plopping down onto his bed, which is next to Sakusa’s. He then looks at Suna with a mischievous smile,

“Heard the news Rin, is it true though?” “It came from Akaashi, of course it’s true,” Atsumu answered for him, having his hands behind his head while staring at the top bunk, where Ginjima sleeps at,

“Well, technically and no, I wanna hear it from the man himself,”

“Am I seriously getting interrogated right now,”

“Apparently,” Ginjima shrugged, turning his body around to look at Suna. The latter sighs before quickly closing the book he’s reading, “I don’t want to answer more stupid questions so, good night!”

He turned off the only lamp switch, that is miraculously next to him as the room turned dark. The sounds of the groaning and slight screams of frustration can be heard inside as they complained,

“SUNA, TURN ON THE LIGHT BACK ON, I’M NOT FINISHED EATING YET!”

“THAT’S WHY I TOLD YOU TO EAT OUTSIDE, FOR GOD SAKES,”

“RIN, IT’S NOT NIGHT TIME YET, OPEN THE LAMP BACK ON,”

“SHUT UP, TSUMU. I EAT WHEN I WANT TO,”

“Rintarou, open the lamp,”

“WHY THE HELL DO YOU ALWAYS DO THIS RIN??”

“YOU’LL GET YOUR STUPID RICE EVERYWHERE ON THE FLOOR,”

“THEN, HOW ABOUT YOU BE A USEFUL THING AND CLEAN IT UP,”

“WHAT?! NO, THAT GROSS,”

“IF NONE OF YOU SHUT UP, I’LL CALL MR.OYAMA TO YELL AT YOU ALL!”

The sound of their senior’s voice shuts them up in an instant as Suna quickly turn the lights back on and pretend to read the book he’s reading just now, though it’s upside down,

“This is why I propose that I’m the one who should sleep next to the lamp switch,”

“Oh, shut up you would literally do the same,”

“NO, I WON’T,”

“YES, YOU WOULD,”

“WHY’RE YOU TWO EVEN ARGUING ABOUT THIS, OH GOD-”

“WHAT DID I JUST SAID?!”

And then they’re back to silence. Sakusa sighed, opening his notebook to study back the last session.

You walked through the dark halls, lighted up with only candles as you turned to the right to head towards the dining hall. And much to your surprise, Suna’s already there.

Leaning against one of the pillars while lightly tapping his foot. Then he caught your figure and hold out his hand to greet your arrival, “Hey, you’re late,”

You scoffed at that, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, “I just came right on time, so I wasn’t late. But you came earlier than last time, did your friend just ditch you?”

He hold up a hand to his chest, pretending to be offended by your words, “Ouch, at least compliment me for being earlier than you,” Which earns an unamused sigh from you as you look around the halls,

“Whatever, do you have all the preparations?” “Yep,”

The male patted the bag wrapped around his shoulder as he lifted up a gas lamp from his other hand, “Good. Now, should we get going?”

“Obviously, but do you actually know where the old library is?” “Of course,”

You motioned him to follow you as you walked towards the end of the dining hall room, a door was placed at the very corner as you searched through your coat’s pocket and pull out a key,

“How come I never saw this door before,” “I didn’t notice too at first, but I think the more you look around, the more you notice things,”

The lock let out a click as you removed the lock from the door before opening it as the fresh night air hit Suna’s face. He shivered slightly, shaking his head a bit and started following you out from the door.

And just like that, the view of the old academy’s library came to his view as he looked up at the tall building. The sound of the crows can also be heard, a murder of it can be seen resting on one of the tree’s branches.

It’s a full moon today so it gave both of you enough light to see around the dark and lonesome night.

It was mere silence between you two as you walked through the plain grass towards the library’s main gate, looking rusty as ever. You tried opening the metal gate but unable to by how rusty it became after years of abandonment, “Let me,”

Suna put a hand up to try to open it and you let him, retreating a bit. But you didn’t know that his method of opening is this.

Without a second thought, he kicked the metal door open as the ear screeching sound echoed through the skies, making the crows fly in fear, “You idiot,”

You smacked his shoulder as he groaned in pain at the surprisingly hard smack, rubbing his shoulder while he’s at it. You went inside the gate without sparing a glance at him and walked straight towards the library’s entrance.

Suna quickly follows from behind and stares at the big and gloomy door. You did the same, you knew that these souls were absolutely harmless and had no way of hurting both of you.

But you truly can’t deny the eerie feeling by just the look of the door, “What, you’re scared?”

You flinched at his statement, turning your head around to see a small smirk plastered on his smug little face. You scoffed at that and shook your head, “Good riddance,”

Why’re your heart beating faster right now? Is it because you’re actually that scared with what’s about to come? You had come this far from tutoring him to trying to find the right tools and yet, you find yourself in a slightly shivering form.

Or is it because you’re nervous that you would be truly alone with this brunette. You hated him, so why would you be nervous to be around him all alone. Hated…

How weird. You tried to calm down your beating heart and wonder if Suna’s actually feeling the same thing-

‘No, [y/n] focus, now’s not the time,’ you thought, shaking your head a bit.

Little did you know though, the person next to you is feeling the same emotions as yours. Finally, alone with only you and himself, he’s quite nervous isn’t he? Awfully obvious, he can already hear Atsumu mocking him for that,

Oh well, at least he had to be ready for what’s about to come.

“Hey, we’re going to turn on the lamp now, you’re ready?”

“Always has been,” Suna said almost too quickly while still staring at the library’s door.

You look at him with surprise at his quick response. Why’s he suddenly confident with all this? But you took it no mind as you just nodded and pulled out your lamp and a box of matches. You light one of it before gently burning the rope inside the lamp.

You did the same with Suna’s before taking a deep breath. You look at Suna for one last time as you get a nod of affirmation from him. He slowly opens up the door as it creates a terrible screek before hitting the wall.

And the last thing you hear from the male is a chuckle with a smirk on his face,

“This is gonna be interesting,”

It was silence. Only silence and the sounds of your footsteps roaming around the lonely and empty library. The insides of the building are horribly dark as you can see books scattering all over the place with the only lights coming from the lamp.

Torned up completely. Suna takes the lead, shining every corner of the room you’re in to try to find a familiar white light floating around, “Hey, you found anything?”

The male stopped on his tracks before turning around to look at you, shaking his head as in he hadn't found anything. You sighed, moving the lamp in your hand around a bit more before finding a stack of stairs heading to the second floor,

“Let’s check the next floor,”

Suna just nodded and headed towards it. He checked for any cracks or holes before confirming that it’s safe. He sent a nod at you as the two of you started going up stairs.

And at that moment, he remembered back what Akaashi said to him back at the library. Why do these unimportant flashbacks always happen during the baddest time? He sighs quietly to himself as he recalled what the ravenette had said;

“If you really want to impress them, show them that you’re responsible for any kind of situation, no matter what. I know that you’re a very lazy person but at least put some effort in making yourself look good to them,”

“Also, I think you should just tell them the truth when you get there, It’s better than keeping it a secret no matter how painful you felt admitting it,”

At that exact moment, he can instantly hear a crack spreading and in an instant turns his head towards you, catching a glimpse of your face contorted into fear. Without any hesitation, Suna quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him as the staircase collapsed underneath you two.

Both of you tried to catch your breath from the sudden event, sweating profusely but thankfully, you’re safe without a scratch. When you finally collected your minds, you realized the situation you’re in with him,

You’re awkwardly on top of him, with your legs in between his thighs and your head rested on his shoulder, his hand is on top of your head while the other is still gripping your wrist.

A blink before you quickly stand up from that position and look for your lamp. Thankfully, the glass didn’t shatter but Suna’s though…

“Sorry, uh, wait, where’s your lamp?”

He sat up, rubbing his head at the impact it had with the floor before looking at you and turning his head to his right, finding the lamp shattered as the pieces scattered all over the floor with the flame died out.

A sigh escaped his lips before standing up and dusted himself, “I guess we had to use yours now huh,”

“Unfortunately, c’mone, the more we find it, the less we had to spend our time here,”

Suna nodded at that, but tilted his head a bit when your figure’s still standing there in front of him, “Hey, you okay? Do you want to take a rest? We can like, I don’t know, maybe sit here for a bit then we can-”

“Suna,”

He froze when he heard his name rolled off from your tongue as he watched your back with his eyes widened. You never said his name before, it’s always ‘you’, ‘idiot’ or ‘Tibetan Sand Fox’, for some weird reasons. But now that he really heard his name,

His real name coming from you, he felt weird but it’s...nice,

“Thanks for just now. For me to say that I was surprised, was obvious but you do have fast reflexes so, yeah, thanks, I guess,”

You can feel his stare at the back of your head as you bite the inside of your cheeks and start walking away to the room in front of you.

He still stood there, completely dumbfounded with the change of behavior that you’re having right now. But it’s fine, he might get used to it, the more often he stay in this old library with you-

“SUNA! HURRY UP!” His mind got cut off before slapping his face slightly, “Coming!”

“Are we seriously going to be here all night…?”

Both of you sat on the wall near the now 3rd floor, you covered your face with your hand in frustration while the latter searched through his bag and pulled out a bar of chocolate.

He opens up the wrapper, cutting the bar into two but accidently making it uneven. He hummed, looking at both of the pieces before shrugging and handing you the bigger piece.

You look at the chocolate before hesitantly taking it from his hand. The chocolate looked slightly bizarre than the ones you had seen before, the color is not typically chocolate like all chocolates should be,

But rather in a pretty shade of pink, “Where did you get this?”

Suna looks at you while taking a bite of his chocolate, “Well, one of my friends is a good cook so we made this inside the dorm,” “Inside the dorm??”

He can see the confusion plastered on your face as he chuckled, “Yeah, he’s hungry all the time so we do this often inside our room. Got nagged a lot by seniors but all's well. Also, if you’re wondering, we’ve actually put some berries inside it, got a bit of a fruity taste,”

You look back at the chocolate with suspicion before going to take a bite. Your eyes widened as you bite the piece off and started munching on it,

“This...tastes pretty good,”

“I know right? He’s a bit of a weirdo tho but means well,”

You coughed at his statement and let out a laugh. Suna stopped mid biting the chocolate, watching you laugh your heart out as he could feel a slight pain to his chest.

The laugh soon died down as you turned your head at him with confusion, he quickly looked away with hot red cheeks, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,”

You watch him biting off his chocolate rather aggressively with a frown on his face, and now red cheeks. Thankfully, the room is dark enough to cover the redness spreading across his face,

“Don’t lie to me, idiot. You thought my laugh was ugly didn’t you? So much for me to finally warming up to you,”

“I didn’t say that- wait, what,”

Why’s everything happening so fast for him to comprehend. You averted your eyes at him while eating your chocolate, you realized what you had said before blushing a bit, “Uh, I didn’t mean that, no, wait- the point is that,”

He watches you looking away from his view while crumpling the wrapper, “I, think I enjoyed spending my time with you, no matter how truly impossible it is to believe, I actually...”

Your beautiful eyes stare into his as a small smile plastered over your face, “..don’t hate you anymore, in fact, I, really wanted to be by your side all the time after that stupid, problematic study session that we have that I started realizing,”

He swallowed down the saliva collecting up on his throat as he can feel his heart is about to beat out of his chest, he’s afraid that you might hear it too,

“But I still won’t forgive you for that terrible freshman memory,” and just like that, your smile fades away as if it’s never there in the first place. Suna frowned at that as he recalled the old memory,

“Oh, you mean that time I spilled my coffee onto your shirt?”

“Obviously, and it annoys me anytime I think about it,”

Your tone was back to how it was, like how you used to talk to him before. You stand up from the floor and dust yourself, grabbing the lamp that was next to you. But this time, you’re giving him a hand as he, without a doubt grabs it and stand up as well,

“Well, I’m sorry about that but can you, actually hear my part of the story?” You tensed up at that,

“Your part?”

He merely nodded before opening his mouth,

“Sorry,”

Suna said with panic lacing his voice as he looked around for a brief second and walking away from the direction you came from. He jogged slightly, finally deciding to throw the coffee cup away and try to find-

He stopped in his tracks before finding a box of tissue near the canteen. He grabbed a few of them before jogging back to where he left you. But you’re nowhere to be seen, only a puddle of coffee left on the floor as the students tried to avoid stepping on it,

“Oh god,”

“YOU REALLY ARE AN IDIOT, AREN’T YOU??”

He flinched a bit when you smacked his shoulders a couple of times after he explained, “You could’ve just help me clean up and not walk away trying to find tissues,”

“I was late for my class and I was panicking okay?? I wasn’t thinking straight and again, I’m sorry!”

You huffed, smacking for the last time before speed walking away towards the 4th and last floor with Suna trying to catch up to you, “Honestly, on second thought, I think I can go back to hating you,”

“What do you mean by that?? You already told me that you didn’t hate me anymore,”

“I take it back, not only you’re irresponsible but you’re truly unable to make the right choices at a given time,”

“Oh c’mone, how many times you’re going to say that-”

His footsteps stopped as he stood there frozen in his tracks and eyes widened. You heard him get cut off by himself as you hesitantly turned your body around to face him,

“Suna?”

He, can hear them. It’s been years now, but now that he heard them again, it felt awfully strange. His ears started ringing a terrible high pitched scream before it turned into silence again with your voice calling him out,

“Suna! What’re you still standing there? Hurry up, we need to finish this-”

The male grabbed your wrist that was holding the lamp, opening the glass’s cover and blow the flame out as only pitch black welcomed you two,

“SUNA! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?? NOW WE HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THE 4TH FLOOR AND EXIT IS! WHY’RE YOU LIKE THIS-”

“Just shut up and follow me,”

You immediately stopped your yellings and shivered slightly at how close his voice is next to your ear. You wanted to deny that and just start nagging him again, but something in his voice says that...he knows what he’s about to do.

You nodded slightly and let him drag you around. His hold on your wrist is still there, squeezing it in reassurance before he slowly walked towards the right side.

Both of you walked for what felt like an hour with only silence surrounding you two as he came across another staircase. Suna released the grip on your wrist, wrapping his hands around your back to guide you up,

“We’re gonna go slowly, okay?”

You nodded, and with that, you two started going up the stairs one by one. He gave you a small push from the back as a sign you’re going up the stairs. And when you two finally came to the 4th floor, you could see a small light coming from the corner of your eyes.

And there you finally see it. All of the 10 souls roaming around the library. It’s sad and lonesome faces look around everywhere and their liquidity like body twitched every second,

“Stay right here,”

You shot your eyes at Suna before he let go off his grip from your back and walk towards the souls. What is he doing? Both of you have no light source right now so it’s impossible to catch them with mere hands-

“Hey,”

The brunette started, looking at the white entity as it’s body slowly turned around to face him. The two of them stare at each other for a bit before Suna started talking again,

“You are? Huh, don’t worry, you’re safe with us,”

He wrapped his arms around the soul and, it didn't go through. Your eyes widened at that, did he really just...touched one? But it’s impossible for a mere mortal to just touch a dead being just like that,

“Almost every single human can’t touch a soul because of its non-existent matter since they’re basically dead. But there are rumors going around that there’s at least 1 in each kingdom that can touch a soul, and while they’re at it, they can also-”

“Suna, you can talk to souls?”

He turned his head around to look at you, watching him petting the soul slowly before stopping. The soul that he hugged looks at him, as a statement on why he stopped before looking at you,

You flinched at the eye contact but softened when it tilted it’s head in confusion. Suna takes a deep breath before looking at you with an unwavering stare,

“Yes, I, in fact, can talk to souls, and even touch them. I’m that 1 person in this kingdom,”

He hated that he had to admit it to you. He wasn’t so fond of this so-called ‘skill’ that he had since birth. He can totally admit this to anyone but to you? He’s back to feeling small, feeling like he holds no purpose in this world at all once you figured it out.

The male closes his eyes and expect the worst as your response,

“Don’t play with us, you don’t belong here,”

“I bet his only friends are those ghosts things,”

“What, you’re gonna cry? What you’re gonna do now huh? Cry it out to your dead friends?”

“Oh my, your son can talk to...dead beings…”

“Yes, and I’m planning on leaving the kingdom and him behind, he’s so lazy too so I don’t think I need him anymore,”

“I hope you have fun talking to yourself,”

“When he reaches the age of 13, I’ll leave him behind with the house. It’s his now and his other...friends,”

“I hate you, we all hate you, don’t even think of coming here again,”

“Don’t you-”

His mind got cut off when he felt a painful punch to his guts as he let out a scream in pain and kneel down, clutching his stomach. The soul that was next to him flinched and it’s face contorted into fear.

He looks up at you, glaring at him with tears staining your eyes,

Wait.

Before he can process his thoughts, you embrace him into a hug as you hold him tightly as if he’ll go away. He just stayed there, letting you engulfing him into the hug as his hands released his stomach.

Twitching a bit as he hugs you back, slowly gripping on your coat hardly while fighting back the tears that’s about to spill out. Unfortunately, you let go of the hug but then make eye contact with him.

Your tears stained eyes stared into his glossy ones before you opened your mouth,

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could’ve just forgive everything you had done all those times,”

His breath hitched at the close proximity between you two. But he felt like he’s at home, a better one, “I’m...afraid that you’ll try to avoid me when I admit that-”

“Stop it stupid, I won’t avoid you for that. I was actually looking for you,”

Looking, for him? Suna watches you wiping the tears that fell down and continued, “I heard about that one person in the kingdom from an old friend of mine, they said that this person live in the same town as me,”

“I was, really intrigued that there’s actually someone that can talk and touch souls, I tried doing it on my own but failed every time, that’s why I was trying to find someone like that, to say that I think they’re incredible for something a mere person can’t do. But then again, I thought that, maybe they’re having a hard time trying to fit in by their unique trait, being an...outcast,”

An outcast huh? He had heard that name for him a lot of times,

“I personally don’t think that THAT person was an outcast just because they’re different from the others. I think that they’re special, they deserved better, they deserve every love they can get and yet…”

You bite your lips, “They still treat them differently. It’s not fair and will never be. So I tried searching for that person all around the kingdom when I was still in the age of 12, but I couldn’t find them,”

“But I did now, but I didn’t think that it would be you…”

What’re you trying to show him right now? Pity? Amazement? He didn’t know, your eyes just showing too many emotions at a time yet, he can still understand it.

And he thought, how should he react? After what you said just now, maybe he know what,

“What I wanted to say is that…”

You scoffed, but not in a hateful way like you always done and with a smile,

“You’re amazing Rintarou, and will always be. You’re never an outcast, cause you’re just the same like all of us, only…more special,”

Suna can feel your hand caressing his cheeks as he unconsciously let out a tear slide down. Your tears started spilling again as you hiccuped, trying to steady your breathing and brain,

“And, I’m sorry...for everything I have done to you, I’m...hah...so stupid…”

You let out a shaky laugh as the brunette hesitantly put a hand on the back of your head, letting you rest on top of his chest while he lay down on the floor. The souls surrounded you two in curiosity but you both paid it no mind and just enjoying each other presence,

“You’re not stupid, you never are. What you did to me all those months, was not stupid, but resonable,”

He bite the inside of his cheeks and let out a weak smile,

“And I had forgiven you a long time ago,”

And now, the only thing filling in the library is silence and the sound of both of your breathing, peaceful and unbothered.

You walked out from the dressing room and buttoned up your white collar shirt, fixing the jetblack coat you're wearing before looking around,

“Hey, has anyone seen my tie?”

“Oh, here!”

You turned to your right and smiled at Akaashi, taking the tie from his hands. You loosened up the zip and put it around your collar before zipping it back up, nice and tight.

Flattening it a bit before looking at your appearance on the mirror, “You already look dazzling, [y/n]. No need to pose in front of the mirror,”

“Oh shut up will you,”

You playfully yelled at Mai, who’s wearing the same kind of outfit like yours but with a knee length skirt.

Today’s the day, the time for your graduation. After a max time of 6 years surviving the academy, you’ve finally made it to graduation. It all felt so fast now that you think about it,

All those memories from the first day to the last day of the exam and now, here you are. And you’re going to admit that, it’s really hard not to feel emotional, after all that time spent with your friends and...lover.

You shake your head at that title, blushing a bit as you can feel a slight tap to your shoulder. You turned around to see none other than Suna,

“[y/n], help me put on this tie,”

“Why can’t you just put it on yourself?”

“I can’t tie a tie,”

You snorted, “Did you seriously just say a pun?” he shrugged, “Maybe,”

A sigh escaped from your lips as you took the tie from his hands and started tying it around his collar. And from the corner of your eyes, you can literally see Akaashi smirking at you along with the other 2nd years, who’s now seniors of the academy,

“Woah, Rin, didn’t know you’re the advantage taker type,”

“Yeah, are ya up to something Suna~?”

Both Atsumu and Komori snickered as the latter sigh, rolling his eyes in annoyance but you can definitely see the slight pink on his cheeks.

You finished tying his tie and patted it lightly, “There,” “Thanks,” “Anytime,”

“Haha, aren’t you two gonna kiss or something?” Ginjima pried in at the two of you, before almost everyone inside the room laughed with Suna’s cheeks turning red as he walks away to cover his face away from the crowd,

“We’re graduating now, aren’t we?”

You then looked at Eri as you two sit on the chair next to each other, Mai joining in to your other side, “It certainly is, I honestly can’t believe that 6 years had passed since we first started arriving here,”

“True, and I did remember the time Eri first arrived during our 3rd year, she’s so cute and shy~”

Eri blushed and huffed at Mai, who giggled at the noirette cute pout. You laughed along with them, watching Tanaka and Noya pestering Suna to tell them what’s going on between you two.

Ginjima and Atsumu join in on them, talking almost too loudly and you can tell that the teachers that’s out from backstage can hear them too.

Komori just watches them while his cousin just rolls his eyes at their antics, Osamu’s struggling to put on his tie as Ennoshita helped him out with it.

Kyoutani is actually having a relaxed conversation with Aone, which seemed very odd but very interesting to look at. Kenma’s just cramped up at the corner of the room with Fukunaga sitting comfortably next to him.

Yamamoto’s now joining in the Suna banter and you swear that the room gets noisier and noisier, much to Sakusa and Kenma’s dismay. Taichi and Shirabu are going through the script since both of them are going to give a speech later for the whole class.

And the others seemed to fix their appearance and clothes. You sighed, a small smile creeping up on your face. This all feels so nostalgic and heartwarming and you can’t help but feel pained that all of you had to separate from each other.

And it honestly felt like you have done wrong to them now that you reminisce the memories all at once. In a second, you clapped your hands loudly as it takes the attention of the whole room, their eyes and attention are now at you.

You missed this. You've been assigned to be the class monitor in the 4th year of the academy and they’ll always put their attention on you when you do this. You cleared your throat before opening your mouth, smiling as wide as you can,

“Now, that I have your attentions, I think I should make the last class meeting,”

Class meeting. It’s when all of you discuss anything regarding the class situation whether it’s about the exam or the class condition or upcoming events.

And the event now is to say goodbye to each other,

“First off, I wanted to say that, I’m sorry,”

All of them flinched at your words with surprise lacing their facial features as you continued, “I may haven’t realized it yet during our academy years but I think I’ve done at least something bad to every one of you, no matter how small or big it is, I do think it’s my responsibility to apologize, and I hope you all can forgive me,”

Then, you shrugged, “Or not, I don’t mind being someone you hate, you know,”

Your eyes caughted Suna as he did nothing but stare at you with disbelief, as if you said something terribly strange, “What’re ya saying, you never did anything wrong to us, [y/n],”

Atsumu started, having a frown on his face as you chuckled at his expression, “Maybe, but I just think that, since this is the last time we’re gonna be with each other, I think it’s best for me to apologize, even if I did nothing wrong, so, again,”

You bowed in front of all of them before sitting straight on your seat with a smile,

“I’m sorry for all the trouble I had done,”

Suddenly, you feel a heavy weight crashed into you as you widen your eyes at the impact and see who it was,

Suna Rintarou.

“Stop apologizing, stupid,”

Ah, the old name that you addressed him in. It felt nostalgic for a moment, and a little ironic. Because you remember doing this to him back when you still hate him,

The man you once hated.

“WHY’RE YOU GUYS ARE BEING SO EMOTIONAL THIS EARLY?? I CAN’T-”

Yamamoto cut off his own sentences and ran towards yours and Suna’s direction and hugged you two. And then one by one, everyone else inside the room started hugging you and started forming a group of hugs.

It takes a while for Fukunaga, Taichi and Aone to pester Kenma, Shirabu and Kyoutani to hug you but they did. Cause they also think you did nothing wrong and doesn’t need to apologize,

Is now the man you cared for dearly.

“Has everyone finished changing into grad clothes?”

You heard your homeroom teacher say from the outside of the backstage as all of you let go of the hug before looking at you, every single one of them while having a small smile on their face.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you wipes out the tears that had fallen before mirroring their smiles back,

“Let’s go,”

“And I hope…”

Shirabu stopped in his reading, steading his breath a bit as his eyes started watering, much to his dismay and continued on quietly and shakily,

“...we all can meet again in the nearest future,”

Everyone clapped their hands loudly as Taichi hugged Shirabu while guiding him back to the bench. You can see everyone you had met before, from the teachers of the whole academy, a few retired teachers that make it to the ceremony, to the old 6th years who were once your seniors and all of your juniors from 5th year.

They’re all here, to celebrate all of your 6 years of being here together. You bite back the tears but it’s no use as it falls down on it’s own.

Bokuto and Konoha cheered from their seats while Washio just lightly clapped his hand along with Yukie and Kaori. Miss Mochizuki, who’s sitting next to you all too clapped her hands while fanning herself from the tears that escaped.

The principal, too, is clapping his hands and even shows a small smile on his face no matter how strict he is. It all felt so heartwarming but it doesn’t stop the pain in your heart that you’ll be separating after this and going back home…

‘Going back home…’ that mere thought echoed through Suna’s head as he can feel like he’s the only one there, in the darkness. His mouth is turned into a straight line as his thought was suddenly interrupted by Atsumu, who’s now sobbing while leaning against his shoulder,

“Sunaaaaa, I’ll miss you! Don’t forget me okay??”

“Geez, yeah I won’t,” he hiccuped, “forget you, idiot,”

“Yeah, do you even think he would do that?” Ginjima said on his right, wiping away his tears and putting on a small smile while biting his lips, “Of course you won’t right?”

The brunette laughed before hugging them, along with Osamu whose breath is ragged from the excessive crying he did,

“It’s hard to forget you all anyway, so I won’t, we’ll see each other again, and that’s a promise,”

He patted their backs as his eyes wandered around the crowd to his classmates, and friends from other classes and then,

Suna caught your eyes, staring at him back. Both of you give each other a smile and nodded,

That’s a promise.

The sound of the train engine can be heard miles away as Suna covered his ears at the loud sound, chewing his cake. They packed some of the food from the graduation party to be eaten inside the train since it’s going to be a long ride before they separate at the main town hall.

Smokes came up from the top as the conductor gave them a welcoming smile, hearing the news of the graduation while briefly congratulating all of them.

You nodded, thanking the conductor before he went back to his spot to let all of you come aboard. Kenma’s the first to go up the staircase as he picked a comfortable spot near the seat railing.

And then, one by one, the others started climbing up the staircase, some of them holding the railing for support until it’s your turn to climb up but stopped near the doorframe of the train.

You look down, making eye contact yet again with Suna before holding your hand out. He briefly snorted and gladly took in as he started going inside the train too. As Eri and Mai finally got into the train, they closed the door before tapping the walls of the it.

The conductor understands the signal and lets out the horn sound coming from the train before starting the journey back to the main town, away from the academy and near to home.

You’re seated comfortably next to the seat railing with Suna next to you. And apparently, only you two. You glared at Atsumu and Osamu when they smirked at you but then your attention at them got cut off,

“So you’re going back home now?”

Suna asked, biting the last bits of his cake before closing his food container and putting it inside his bag,

“Yeah, I had one of the seniors to build me a place to stay when I get back home thankfully,”

“Is that so,”

Then, it’s just silence between you too as you started opening your mouth again,

“Do you want to come with me?”

He froze at that and looks at you with a bewildered look while you just smile at him, “I mean, if you’re comfortable staying with me, it’s fine if you decline-”

“Yeah sure,”

You blinked at his quick response and just sighed, “That’s good,” You fidgeted with your fingers while still holding onto your graduation paper, softening the hard edges before a tap to shoulder breaks you out of your thoughts,

“Hey, [y/n],”

“Yes Suna?”

His breath hitched when he heard you calling his name again, it never gets old and it always make his heart beating a lot louder, “Come closer, there’s something I need to tell you,”

You stare at him for a bit with curiosity, leaning in to his face as the gap between you two is almost non-existent. You hummed, asking what he’s going to say.

And in between that moment, Suna holds up his graduation paper to cover both of your faces and close the gap between his lips and yours. You squealed slightly in the kiss, blushing heavily at the action and just like that, he pulled away with an affectionate smile and red cheeks on his facial features,

“I love you,”

#chocolate; a valentine's series #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro #suna x reader

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belovasangel · 4 years

Text

Come Back to Me

Summary: Shawn missing big events leaves to beautiful memories and Christmas miracles

Pairing: Shawn x fem!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: swearing, light angst, fluff, flashback heavy, holiday feelings

A/N: Yup. Surprise. Also flashbacks are in italics, per usual. Also I am not Canadian so I don’t know if y’all celebrate Remembrance Day. For the sake of this story, pretend that it’s the equivalent to Thanksgiving.

Shawn took your hand as you barreled down the sidewalk, laughs flying past you in the wind. Tonight had been a perfect date, something great to wrap the summer up, full of time alone with your favorite guy (and your favorite wine). He had been planning this for weeks now, and you can even remember him talking about this back in June when his tour had been announced. The pandemic put a damper on your two’s plans since March, but once the numbers started decreasing did he get calls from managers, and then... there was another world tour. You weren’t mad, music was his passion. Even though you two would be wrapped in each other’s arms after a lovely night, you could tell behind his eyes he longed to play the guitar for different cities.

That’s why tonight was so important, because he started packing and planning, then he would leave on Wednesday for Prague. And of course, your job needed you in Toronto. While Canada hasn’t experienced any significantly alarming numbers, there were still cases rolling in. You insisted that Shawn goes on tour, so much that you had to pay for his first ticket yourself (he payed you back, though. He insisted).

Shawn skidded to a stop, turning around and putting his hands on your shoulders. “Now promise me you’re gonna close your eyes, just for a few seconds.”

You huffed and shrugged your shoulders, “Shawn I’m out of breathe, you made me run in heels for about half a mile... Give me 5 minutes instead.” With a quick chuckle, he pecked your lips and turned you around. You heard his shuffling from those black boots he wears to rubble, then decided to look around. He somehow managed to find a quaint park, with a nice bubbling fountain and family’s scattered around. Dogs were running a lit in the distance, and the bustle of the city wasn’t nearly as booming as it usually is. This was nice.

“Okay, turn around.”

With a giggle, you turned around to see Shawn on one knee. Behind him was a tree strung with lights that were glowing, and underneath the tree was champagne and a radio playing your two’s song, Turning the Page (Yeah, we know it’s from Twilight, but that doesn’t stop it from being any less romantic). He was kneeled on a red and white picnic blanket, the typical one you’d see in catalogues for fall. On the blanket were rose petals scattered.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have changed my life for the better. The moment you saw me in the E.R., and had to take care of my broken hand, I knew you were just as kind and gentle as you looked. Once you let me in, and take you on that shitty first date, I got to see the real you. The you that cries during every Disney movie, the you that would bring me breakfast in bed when I had a rough day, the you that would rescue a damn pigeon off the street because it looked sad. You are the most sincere, selfless, and intelligent woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I don’t want ever want to stop or slow down. You have become my life and my rock, I’m completely lost without you. I am utterly in love with you, (Y/N). I want us to have a family, I want to make an album for you, and everything in between. Will you please marry me?”

You shuddered awake, looking quickly at your blaring alarm from the end table. Picking it up and turning it off, the time read 4:25 A.M., signaling it was time to get ready for work. You got up, and went to open the blinds to your bedroom, watching the snow fall steadily. Slipping on your socks and bathrobe, you shuffled to the kitchen to get a cup of tea brewing before you hit the shower.

Mornings like this weren’t incredibly tough anymore, once Shawn was gone on tour. He face-timed you once a week because of tour, sent you letters and packages from your favorite cities, and even had roses delivered on your birthday. And of course, he always said, “Lemme see it. I wanna see you wear that pretty ring. There it is, there she is, soon-to-be Mrs. Mendes.”

Slipping in the hot shower, you played some of his songs, some of your regular playlists, and when you were throwing on your outfit, your two’s song. You missed Shawn. He had missed your two’s favorite holiday, Halloween, where you two always did the cheesy couple costumes. He missed your birthday, but he sent his family in place. He missed Remembrance Day, because in Europe that wasn’t a thing. And tomorrow is Christmas, where he has no sign of coming home whatsoever. That’s fine, though, because you took the long shift at the hospital.

When the song came to an end, you threw on your coat and snow boots, grabbing all the food and equipment you would need for a 12-hour and began to head out. Shawn sent you his daily vlog and you watched that on the shuttle. Once that was over, you got to the hospital where you would forget about your slightly more aching heart. After work, the routine would basically go in reverse. Commute home, get back into your pajama’s, drink some tea, get dinner, and go to bed, where you would have a restless night in an empty bed.

“When do you think we should have the wedding?”

Shawn looked over, a piece of popcorn hanging onto his lip like a lifeline. His cheeks were flushed and he still looked a little sweaty from the show he just played at TD Garden. He knew you were doing the planning to keep yourself from descending into madness (well, not entirely, but you only brought it up when you really missed him). “I think we should do a summer/fall sort of wedding, like when the leaves are red but it isn’t freezing by 5, ya know?”

You hummed in agreement, a smile picking at the corners of your mouth. “I completely agree. Do you want it to be outdoors then, because of the leaves?”

Shawn took another few things of popcorn from the bag and popped them into his swollen lips, he always licked them when he was frustrated by how a show went, or just when his mind was reeling. “I think we should get married outdoors, and then have the reception indoors. Kind of like-”

“Twilight...”

You both looked at the screen and snorted, sending both of you into fits of hysteria. “Shawn, we really base our relationship off of those books, didn’t we?” He looked over, licking his lips once again. “Explain, babe. I get a little bit, but our whole relationship?”

You shuffled in the bed a little bit, “Hear me out, Shawn-y boy. We met when you were hurt and I had to save you, or more-so your career. Edward saved Bella from the car, right? Right. So, there’s that. Then that girl who you worked on the album with tried to get you on the few dates, but that was long after we were official. Boom, Jacob plot line. Then you leave me for your first tour, which I get 100%, so don’t be upset over that. But the girl you worked with saw you kind of sad and made it her mission to befriend you and then attempt to change your mind over me... And our song is the one from their wedding, and we want an outdoors-y wedding.....”

Shawn looked at the screen, then back to the popcorn leaking butter in his hands. “Damn. So you’re saying that I’m Bella?” You began to shake your head, cheeks turning red. “Maybe I meant that wrong, but-”

“No, no you’re saying I’m Bella. Does that mean I get to wear the dress? I cannot wait to get married with no emotions and then have the ugliest CGI baby in the history of cinematics. Aren’t you so excited for that, my love?”

“Absolutely thrilled.”

The alarm on your phone blared once again, pulling you from Shawn. You picked up the phone, getting a few “Merry Christmas” texts from family and friends. You assumed Shawn was out partying with his crew mates, plus it must’ve been a busy day altogether. Turning off the alarm and standing, you pulled on the slippers and followed your routine again.

Once it got to 6:07, and still no text from Shawn, you decided to call him. Immediately, you were sent to voicemail. With a sigh, you waited for voicemail.

“Hey bubs, Merry Christmas! I miss you more than ever, it’s snowing here pretty rough. I know you’d probably go outside right about now and insist to make a snowman or some angels, so that might be a mission for me after work. Um, I wanted to let you know that I love you so much, and I hope you’re having fun on tour... The apartment isn’t the same without you here, especially around this time. You’re probably having fun with your friends and I don’t wanna intrude on that, so I’ll hang up. I love you Shawn, be careful. Stay safe, come back to me soon. Bye.”

Wiping the tear that fell down your cheek, you stepped outside your apartment, hopped into the elevator and began the commute to your shift. You got to work on record time, beginning your patient rounds and vitals, then celebrating with the coworkers. Working 6:30 AM-9:30 PM would be a tough one, but whatever to keep you under that roof. Plus, double-time because of the holiday.

Once it hit 9:30, you booked it out of the hospital and onto the shuttle. Your eyes were barely open as you saw the texts from Shawn.

(Shawn) 7:59 AM: Hey babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your call! I can’t wait to see your face tonight, you still up for FaceTime?

(Shawn) 9:26 AM: I bet you’re busy, but I’m gonna be in a few conferences and doing press so I won’t be able to talk for a while. Love you!

(Shawn) 3:14 PM: (Y/N) I don’t think we can FaceTime tonight, I have to do something for a fan and it’s really important. I am so sorry.

(Shawn) 8:44 PM: Are you mad at me or are you still working?

(Shawn) 9:32 PM: Something is waiting for you at home, it’s your gift. I hope this can make up for the call!

You hopped out of the shuttle, heart feeling extra heavy as you walked into the apartment. The string lights and streamers along the walls were taunting you as the elevator brought you to your floor, and you tried to compose yourself until you would get inside. Stepping up to your door, you looked for the present, to no avail.

(Y/N) 9:45 PM: Shawn I don’t see a package

(Shawn) 9:45 PM: Mom must’ve brought it inside, I’m sure it’s there.

With a huff, you shoved the key into the door, and walked inside. Chucking your purse and coat onto the hooks, while flinging off your shoes, you composed yourself enough to look for the package. If he got it express-shipped it had to be good. Checking the kitchen was no luck, and the living room looked normal.

(Shawn) 9:48 PM: Bedroom, babe

With a gasp, you quickly buzzed to the bedroom, and laid your hand on the door. You stopped, hesitant to what was behind the door. What if it isn’t him? Taking a deep breath, you dismissed the negative thought and opened.

The room was filled with lit tea lights, rose petals on the bed and the floor, and Shawn. He was standing there in that chunky-white knit sweater you loved, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, holding a bouquet of flowers, and your favorite song playing softly in the background.

You gasped, running into his arms with a squeal and sob, him mimicking the sound. He held onto the small of your back, and one hand on the back of your neck, and you felt his tears falling onto your skin. “I missed you so much, (Y/N). You don’t even know.” He pulled back slightly pressing his lips to yours in a soft embrace.

After a minute of kissing, you pulled back. “Merry Christmas, Shawn.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

#shawn #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #imagine #love #christmas #lumineshawn

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ohpretty-baby · 4 years

Text

6,690 miles

part one of go the distance

⇥ pairing: taehyung x fem!reader // soulmate!au

⇥ synopsis: paris, france has always been the place of your dreams, and once you finally get there, it’s almost as if things are too good to be true. this is ultimately proven when you meet kim taehyung, you’re long awaited soulmate that you can’t seem to get a grip on.

or, alternatively: taehyung is your soulmate and you have issues with that because he lives on the other side of the world.

⇥ genre: angst angst angst angst, fluff, angst, pining, author tries her best to describe what paris is like despite never stepping foot in paris at all

⇥ warnings: cursing, big ol’ sadness, alcohol(????)

⇥ word count: 19k

a/n: hi everyone this was so much fun to do! hope you all enjoy!!!

“The chief danger about Paris is that it is such a strong stimulant.” — T.S. Eliot

Paris, France.

A well known tourist destination. Loved and known by many.

The sun-dappled city is dreamlike to you, a mere simpleton who has somehow found their way into such a surreal place. Cobblestone pavements guide you when you walk around, creating a soft pitter patter reminiscent of the rain if you step light enough. A vast variety of tourist attractions and shops makes you realize just how much you could do in the city, and you often find yourself intimidated with wanting to do an overwhelming amount of things in one single day.

Paris is beautiful, and at certain times of the day, you find yourself stunned in the middle of the street when it registers in your head that you’re actually in the city of your dreams. The place you’ve been wanting to go to ever since you saw it on the TV randomly when you were a child, and when you learned about some of the other attractions both from the Internet and your history classes, you became more and more enamoured with Paris and France in general.

And now you’re actually here. A strong wave of shock always hits you the more you stay in Paris when you realize that.

You take every chance you can to just breathe in the air of Paris, to breathe in the faint scent of aged and new cheeses wafting from the fromageries combined with a mixture of coffee, lavender, ferry fumes, and cigarette smoke.

Not to mention the slight hint of urine throughout the streets, of course.

Nonetheless, you take everything in. It’s definitely not what you expected Paris to smell like, but you don’t complain. All of the elements of the Paris perfume come together and create a signature scent that you won’t forget. With the scents and the sights of the city, you become enamored with the people, the buildings, and Paris itself.

And if you loved Paris during the day, you loved Paris even more in the night. Most days you find yourself enjoying going out during the night rather than in the morning, leaving you to be tired during the day and repeating the cycle of staying out from dusk until dawn.

This is characteristic of your Sunday, the beginning of the last week of your 14 day vacation. The notion of you already having to leave a place you just got to—and one you’ve been planning to go to for quite awhile now—saddens you when you think about it too hard in the middle of the night. Most of your vacation has consisted of you tossing and turning around in bed, contemplating on how you have to return back to reality soon.

Perhaps it was both a blessing and a curse.

Because now that you’ve decided to actually make the most of the rest of your vacation, you’ve made the amazing decision of staying out much later during the night. And although you love how beautiful Paris is during the day, Paris during the night is something indescribable.

Especially the Eiffel Tower.

You peer up at the famous attraction with nothing but pure admiration in your heart. The tower seems as if it’s made up of steel and lace, constructed elegantly in a way that leaves your jaw on the cobbled floor below you. And during the night, bright, golden yellow bulbs shine back at you, smiling at you and every person walking past it.

Some people may think that the Eiffel Tower isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, but you would definitely say otherwise, as you’re routinely found frozen before the tower in complete awe, despite the many nights of your vacation that you’ve spent at this sight.

To be truthful, you’ve never been one to become blasé about such elegant things. Growing up with a brilliant, hardworking family had caused you to become someone who was grateful for everything they got. During high school, your friends would tease you daily since gratitude overflowed from your lips when they did something as simple as giving you the last quarter you needed to buy a granola bar from the vending machine. Even now, you always thank your coworkers multiple times whenever they offer you a cup of water. The littlest things impressed you and made your heart become full of gratefulness. At points, you’ve even feel guilty when someone did something for you, so you were also never one to ask for favors out of people.

Just like your parents, their trait of working hard had translated directly onto you. Right when you got out of college, a bright young woman with a Bachelor’s degree in English, you did everything in your power to get hired as an editor for the well known Chicago Optimist—the dream job that you’ve always wanted to have.

Granted, in the beginning, a majority of your work consisted of running errands for your superiors and even now you still get coffee for everyone in the morning, but with enough hard work and consistent effort, you were able to be seen as a regular colleague amongst your seniors. Eventually, you’d regularly get praised by your Editor in Chief, Charlotte, for doing such stellar work on editing. You always did have a way of coloring words so beautifully, adding in sentences that were needed and making the already written sentences even more interesting than possible.

For you, it’d be pretty easy to say that life was going really well for you. Having your dream job and being surrounded with people that care about you and your success, you were constantly thankful for everything you already had and everything that made this possible.

And now, standing before the Eiffel Tower, all because of your own hard work, almost brings tears to your eyes. Never in your wildest dreams have you ever thought that you’d end up in Paris, France. Most days it was too much to take in, but you experienced the wonders of the town eagerly, snapping pictures of whatever you could so that your memories are preserved.

Tonight, you decide to take a picture of yourself in front of the tower.

You’ve only been taking pictures of food and tourist attractions, after all. It would definitely be nice to have something decent enough to post on your Instagram, since you did promise your friends and family that you’d actually post at least one thing for your sad excuse of a feed. Currently, your feed only consisted of an outdated picture of you and your longtime best friend (now turned roommate) Jungkook when the two of you were goofing around in the library of your college. The picture was actually only of him standing in front of a poorly drawn anime girl he did in dry erase marker on one of the white boards in the room.

It still makes you laugh now, but you also realize that you should probably have something of yourself on your Instagram.

So you dress a bit nicer today. Clad in a white tee loosely tucked into a black maxi skirt, you were proud to take on the city with your self-proclaimed “stylish” outfit paired with some clean white sneakers. You give yourself a pat on the back, as now you have the chance of taking a picture of yourself that you might actually like. Maybe posting something on social media once in a while couldn’t be so bad.

In fact, Jungkook, always jokingly scolded you for not having anything on your Instagram, reasoning that you could find a soulmate that way.

You chuckle to yourself, tapping on the Camera app of your phone. There was no way that your soulmate could actually find you just through one Instagram picture. It was illogical. Not only did you have 201 followers (which consist of your friends, family, and coworkers) on a private account, but you didn’t think it was possible for someone to hear you speaking through a picture.

“Well, a picture speaks a thousand words!”

Hearing his words faintly in your mind, you shake your head as the already present smile on your face widens even more. His reasoning definitely made no sense at all, but it certainly left a nice memory in your mind. You take this chance to look at your right wrist. There’s nothing but bare skin, staring back at you. No letters, no words, and no ink. Nothing. Just a simple, plain wrist.

While being gifted with a tattoo of your soulmate’s first words to you made things easier in terms of love lives, you had no care for it, being the only person you know who hasn’t found theirs yet. Your loved ones have attempted to comfort you multiple times about the “issue”, telling you with comforting tones and pitied eyes that you’ll find that special someone eventually. Contrary to their beliefs, however, you were unphased by being alone.

The possibility of you not having a soulmate wasn’t daunting, nor was it something that you considered a problem. In reality, you still had a lot you wanted to do before even thinking about or considering settling down with one person. Sure, you had your moments of wondering what it’d be like to find your soulmate (if you had one) and sure, it made you sad at points. But then you’d analyze your thoughts and deduce that you were simply just craving material things such as human touch and you reminded yourself that you weren’t able to commit absolutely everything to one person right now.

But that didn't matter tonight, because right now you’re in front of the Eiffel Tower and your main goal is to take a nice picture. You extend your right arm, thumb hovering over the bottom circle, while you try to find the right angle for your selfie. You blink a few times and grin, finally pressing down on the screen to capture the image.

You frown. The angle was terrible and you didn’t like how crooked your smile looks. It’s when you put your picture under so much scrutiny that you realize just how asymmetrical your face is.

“Curse you, camera mirroring,” You mutter to yourself as you delete the picture. The least phone brands could do was take off the mirroring feature so you wouldn’t feel so bad about your appearance. Now you’re only left with a—now deleted—bad selfie and a lowered self esteem.

Not wanting to waste your pretty outfit tonight and with determination to complete your goal, you look to a better alternative: having someone take your picture for you.

You scan your surroundings. Everyone is busy taking their own pictures, and if they’re not, they’re waiting for people to get out of the background until they can snap a pic. It’s somewhat comical and sad, seeing that the tourists are more occupied in looking good for their photos instead of enjoying the once in a lifetime opportunity of being in the Eiffel Tower’s presence.

Just when you’re about to give up, your eyes lay upon a man standing by himself, hands shoved in the pockets of his light beige trench coat, and most importantly, with no phone to be seen. He’s spectating the tower, taking in its beauty similarly to the way you had done mere seconds ago. Surely he’d understand your request.

Taking a deep breath, you walk over to him. Your heart starts to beat faster the closer you get to him, as he seems to become bigger and bigger before you with each step you take. The closer you are, the softer his hair and his eyes look, and the kinder his smile to the tower seems as well. He doesn’t seem threatening, which confuses you as you couldn’t figure out why your heart was pounding against your chest so strongly. Of course, you’d expect yourself to be slightly nervous, but you’ve been under pressure and you’ve been able to talk to your bosses without being as afraid as you are now.

You muster the courage to tap gently on his shoulder, and you notice just how broad his shoulders are.

“Excuse me sir?” You clear your throat when your voice is depleted to a mere squeak, “Would you be able to take a picture of me?”

The man turns around, his tall stature combined with the bright lighting creating a dark shadow that shrouds over you. It’s almost impossible to tell whether the goosebumps that appear on your skin are a result of his intimidating presence or because of the slight chill of the Parisian night breeze. Nonetheless, you shiver, anxiously pressing down on your skirt to flatten out nonexistent wrinkles. When you finally decide to see his reaction, his alluring eyes pierce into yours, making you compress yourself further below his gaze. You blink back up at him again to read his reaction, and there’s no anger and no malice in the way he looks at you. Just pure confusion painted on his face.

Both of you are frozen in place, forcing you to truly take in his appearance.

His black hair falls slightly over his eyes, curls pointing out in every direction possible and framing his face. The first thing you notice about his eyes is how one of them is double-lidded whereas the other isn’t. His golden tan skin is highlighted nicely under the night lights, and the decorative red scarf tied nicely around his neck accents his complexion even further. A hand comes out of his pocket to push the metal rimmed glasses higher up his nose bridge while he examines you, scanning you up and down intensely.

You find that the reason he seemed so intimidating was solely that he was so attractive that it was captivating. Staring at him right now, you find yourself lost in his deep brown eyes, stuck on him while your breath is caught in your throat. Everything about him screams beauty, and even though he’s slouched and relaxed while he’s standing, he still remains to hold an elegant aura about him.

Just like Paris, he seemed to be made of dreams.

Gulping down on air, you wait for his response. To your relief, his lips curve upwards into a closed smile while he extends a hand, a gesture asking you for your camera. You smile brightly at him, eagerly handing him your phone. Backing away from him, you stand in front of the tower, fixing your clothes and your hair before getting ready for your impromptu photoshoot with said random—though extremely attractive—stranger.

Surprisingly enough, the man puts every fibre of his being into taking nice pictures of you, even going as far as crouching down uncomfortably all in order to get the best possible angles for you. You feel grateful that you had chosen such a great photographer.

The only thing, though, is that the stranger isn’t much of a talker.

Save for the bustling, excited chatter of the people around you, there is complete silence between the two of you. In a matter of minutes, the air becomes dense and you slowly feel awkward under the male’s focused gaze. A silent photoshoot is deemed as quite weird to you, but he pays no attention to it, too preoccupied with the task at hand. From time to time, he’ll pause, biting his lip while he would stare at empty air in deep thought. He’d eventually reveal that he was finding good backgrounds for you as he’d point to the spaces he was staring at, the action giving a simple explanation of where you should stand.

From his silent commands and suggestions, you conclude that he speaks a different language and that he only got the memo of your request when you held the phone in your hands, showing him the Camera app.

It’s times like these where you wish that language barriers didn’t exist.

While you pose for the camera, a thought pops into your mind. What would it be like if you spoke the same language as the stranger? Your face becomes hot at the thought, as you imagine yourself flirting—or at least, attempting to flirt—with the stranger before you. Maybe you’d even test your luck and ask him if you could take a picture together. Jungkook would definitely congratulate you for talking to a man, and a handsome one at that.

Maybe you could even be friends with him, or maybe…

You freeze at the sudden, inappropriate thoughts flashing through your mind. What was wrong with you? It’s extremely rude of you to think about a stranger in your bed, especially since you had just met him minutes ago. You deduce that you were definitely having one of those moments where you just wanted human touch and attention. It was obvious from the way you had become so quick and eager to risk it all for someone random on the street.

The male notices how you’re standing there, eyes glued to the ground and hands fidgeting with the soft fabric of your skirt.

“Look at me, darling.”

His words ring in your ears. The deep timbre that colors each one beautifully becomes a soothing symphony to you. A slight rasp accentuates the already striking voice, one that could catch anyone’s attention with just one sentence. If you had to describe his voice in the most accurate way possible, you’d say that his is the epitome of sweet, toasted honey. It was so sweet and so inviting, that if you stayed too long you were certain you’d drown in just his voice alone.

Another shiver runs down your spine while it registers in your head that he can speak English.

Before you can become astonished by that, a strange tingle reaches on your skin, the sensation similar to pins and needles poking relentlessly on your right arm. The poking and pinching rapidly turns into a light burn for one second, then dies down to a dull pulse and into nothingness. It’s all too much and too little at the same time. Overwhelming and yet anticlimactic all at once.

You’re blindsighted, stuck in place with your lips parted and your arms limp to your side. You’re left wondering if you were dreaming, or if you were having a strange sort of bodily attack that caused your arm to burn wildly out of nowhere. The wind blows through your hair, through your skirt and your loose t-shirt, and while you’re standing at the stranger before you, you’re quite literally blown away, speechless and fireworks shooting inside of your body while you bite harshly down on your lip so that nothing comes out of your mouth without your permission.

If it was an accidental confession, a scream, or actual vomit, you genuinely couldn’t tell.

There’s a bit of hesitation in your actions, and you refrain from assessing the damage your body has created on your wrist. It was safe to say that you didn’t quite exactly know what to do in this type of situation. No one ever told you the truth of what happens when you meet your soulmate. Usually they just give you the over romanticized, sappy, and highly exaggerated crap about kissing in the rain or something of the sort while they’re shooting “love lasers” out of their eyes at their own soulmate.

They never told you how awkward this would be.

Do you tell him? Do you check if there’s really a tattoo? Does he know?

“Are you ok?” He’s no longer taking pictures, now staring back at you instead, “Seems as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

His reaction when you first spoke to him was one of confusion, which quickly shifted into indifference. Surely, he didn’t have a tattoo, or else you would’ve known by now. He would’ve said something about it. You decide it’s best to not address the elephant in the room as you were the only one falling victim to this incident.

There were cases of people having a soulmate tattoo with someone who didn’t want anything to do with them. In those cases, the other person didn’t have a tattoo inked on their skin. You deduce that this is your fate, one with a soulmate who had no idea you existed. And while you’re certain that you’ll be devastated once you actually reflect on the circumstances you’ve been cursed with, you can’t help but feel as if it makes sense. There was no way the man could fall for you, since you two had just met. Even if he was your soulmate, you couldn’t be his. It simply just wouldn’t work out.

You didn’t know his name, and he didn’t know yours. He also must’ve lived on the other side of the world, or at least somewhere that was significantly far from you. It’s impossible for you to be with him. Paris is already huge, imagine trying to get to him while he’s miles away. A life with him isn’t in the cards for you.

Pushing down any hints of sadness, you decide it’s for the best. You were leaving to go back to America in a week. A week isn’t enough to mope about it, nor is it long enough to have feelings for a random stranger that you had just met. You still had so much you wanted to do, both in Paris and life in general.

And a lonely future with a dog and a nice house doesn’t sound so bad when you think about it. Jungkook would probably visit you every once in a while after he finds his soulmate too. It couldn’t be that terrible, right?

You would be lying if you said that it didn’t hurt, though.

“My bad,” Chuckling awkwardly, you run a hand through your hair, “I zoned out for a bit.”

You didn’t notice, but a natural smile had formed on your lips. He takes this chance to click a few candid photos of you without you knowing. When he’s done, he examines his products, a satisfied simper on his face. He hands you your phone, and you thank him multiple times. He laughs, seeing how you bow and continue to speak nothing but gratitude, as if he had just saved your life and that you were indebted to him.

“Of course,” His hands find their way to his pockets, and you hear a sharp whistle from him, “But I do have to mention one thing.”

As if your heart wasn’t beating fast enough already. You almost feel mad at him for being so vague.

You attempt to steady your breathing, but it comes to no avail when he’s staring at you like that. You try to keep your composure, but the hopeful, curious, gleam in your eyes reveal the current state you’re in. It’s almost laughable, how you can’t seem to hide anything in front of him.

Time reaches a standstill, and you hang on to every second, hoping that maybe, just maybe he had a tattoo with your words on it. You pray that he’d show you, that you could just run into his arms and feel at peace with the world. That there’s a chance you could be together, that the universe didn’t curse you with such a cruel fate.

He opens his mouth. You hold your breath.

“I remember hearing something about it being illegal to take photos of the Eiffel Tower at night.”

The knot building up in your chest is unfortunately let loose in the worst way possible, and you hide the dissatisfaction in your heart in order to save face. However, your body speaks for you instead, shoulders drooping down and hands balled up into fists, clutching onto the fabric of your skirt so tight that your knuckles were shades paler than your actual skin. You relax your hands, choosing to have mercy on your poor clothing and folding your hands behind your back instead. At least you’d be able to have control over your hands. You still couldn’t control that cursed, steadily increasing heartbeat of yours.

“Ah, really?” You unconsciously kick around dirt and debris around you, “I didn’t know that.”

You know you should probably worry about the fact that you might’ve accidentally committed a crime, but you can’t really blame yourself for being stressed out about something else right now.

“I suppose that can’t be helped, though,” He shrugs, “It is a tourist attraction after all.”

He makes his way to you while you face the Eiffel Tower. Staring at the lights, you feel nothing but sorrow and self-pity as you can feel your soulmate next to you, so close that you’re almost touching, but you can do nothing. You’re only able to watch the tower like before, but this time in agony, as your soulmate is here with you and yet you can’t bring yourself to even say anything to him.

Your main focus is on the tower, using whatever you can to block him out. It’s so hard to do that, though, because you smell the scent of pine, and it floods your senses, forcing its way to you while it takes everything in you just so you can keep yourself upright. You do not dare to look at him or to speak, but you desperately want to wrap your arms around him, tell him that you’ve been waiting for him all your life. That you can’t believe you’ve finally found him. A sigh falls from your lips. This was nothing like in the movies.

You’ve met your soulmate, and in Paris, of all places. When thinking about the situation, it should be like magic. You should feel like you’re floating, like you’re living a scene of those romance movies you used to fawn over when you were younger.

And yet here you are, having him slip out of your hands like thin, fine sand, even if he’s just inches away from you.

“I’m Taehyung, by the way,” The quiet whisper tickles you, his voice crisp and clear in your ears, “It’s a pleasure to take your photos.”

He’s cautious when he speaks, careful as to not disturb the tranquility of your surroundings. You’re just as careful, eyes still fixed on the yellow lights beaming back on you.

“I’m Y/N,” You respond, “It’s a pleasure that I chose such a great photographer.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him smile. He’s so dreamy that you almost melt at how adorable he looks.

“Have you been to Paris before?”

“You tell me.”

It’s a simple quip, a sarcastic comment that you wouldn’t deem as hilarious, but a rich laugh emits from him, and suddenly you’ve never been happier to make someone laugh before. It almost scares you how easily your newfound emotions take over you.

His laughter comes into your ears and muffles the cacophony of the world around you. You definitely should be terrified at how enamored you’ve become with just hearing him become amused with your joke, but you don’t seem to mind. You even laugh along with him, the dark world now colored in a mixture of soft pinks and yellow with hints of blue.

You take in how his eyes crinkle into crescent moons, how they twinkle in the night sky. The balcony scene of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet appears in your mind, and you’re reminded of how Romeo describes Juliet’s eyes. That the brightest stars in the sky ask her eyes to shine in the night sky in their place. You realize that maybe Shakespeare has some truth to his words when you look into his eyes and see how dazzling they are.

You’ve already gone too deep that you need to stop yourself from thinking any further.

Is this what love is like?

You wonder how just one person—a random stranger, at that—could cause you to suddenly admire a famous writer that you had hated so strongly in high school. How one person could cause you, an embarrassingly uncreative person, to become poetic?

“So…” Your world resumes when he speaks, ears perking up at his words, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in Paris all by herself?”

You giggle at his question, your own reaction surprising you. If someone else had asked you that, you’re certain that you’d be annoyed with them. The question seems belittling, but he speaks so kindly and so warmly that it seems to be everything but that.

“It’s been on my bucket list,” You answer, “I’ve been saving up to go here for such a long time. It’s still unreal to me that I’m actually here, really.”

He chuckles, and you can’t tell if you should take that negatively or positively.

“Paris has been on your bucket list?” He stifles a laugh, “Don’t you think it’s rather a drab?”

“No?” Your brows furrow, and you’re baffled, “How could someone find Paris boring?”

“I must be going here too much, then,” He shrugs, choosing not to argue with you, “Perhaps I’ve been too critical.”

You wonder how many times he’s been in Paris, how many times he’s been able to see the Eiffel Tower in person. You think that if you were in his shoes, you’d never take Paris for granted. It was too beautiful a city for it to be seen as a drab.

“What brings you here, then?” You desperately want to pick his brain, to see the world from his eyes. If Paris was a drab, then what exactly did he find interesting?

“Photography,” He replies, “I have a few gigs here every once in a while. Especially during Fashion Weeks and what not. Nothing too special.”

You’re astonished. Not by the Eiffel Tower this time, but by Taehyung. There’s a swell of pride in your chest, finding out that your soulmate has become a successful photographer.

“‘Nothing special’? That’s amazing!” Your praises make his face flush, “I’ve probably even seen some of your work! That’s really cool!”

He just beams at you, and you can’t stop the praises coming out of your lips.

“Wow, to think that out of all of the people I could’ve chosen tonight,” You muse, “I chose a famous photographer!”

“Oh, stop,” He shakes his head, “I’m not that noteworthy. No one really knows me.”

“That’s still something to be proud of,” You say, “I’m sure the photography world is quite competitive.”

“Yeah, definitely,” He mumbles.

“Can’t even imagine what it’s like for you guys.”

A silence befalls the two of you, and you notice that you’ve been talking a lot more than you’d like to. He was most likely annoyed with you, probably begging that you could shut up. Your mind races, already listing 100 things you’ve done wrong tonight. You should just count your losses and leave the poor guy alone, you think.

You’re about to thank him once more and say goodbye, when you hear someone else clear their throat. The both of you turn around and you’re met with a couple. The husband has a phone in his hands.

“Hey, sorry, would one of you be able to take pictures of us?” He asks sheepishly, and you suppress a giggle when Taehyung silently asks for their phone and begins to click away. You wonder how many times he’s been asked the same question in one day.

The couple does a handful of cheesy poses, the wife kissing him multiple times so that Taehyung can get a good shot. Watching them with soft eyes, you can feel the love radiating off of the couple, and it makes you a little jealous. At some points you can see a hint of the couple’s tattoos on their wrists, and your envy grows a little stronger, gnawing at you more than you’d like to admit. You wish that it was you and Taehyung in their stead, Taehyung picking you up bridal style in front of the tower. Instead, you push away the idea as you stand there, silently resigned.

When they’re finally done, they thank him and leave with happy faces as they look through their photos. You wonder what they’d post, what they’d caption their pictures. You wonder what you’d use as a caption if you had a post with Taehyung. It’d probably be something cheesy.

“Seems like you have a few gigs tonight,” You tease, seeing how Taehyung has become slightly annoyed with the lovers’ affection.

“Oh, how lovely it is to be in Paris,” He sighs, and before you know it, the two of you are walking around aimlessly together. You’re not sure where Taehyung will take you, but instead of worrying, you just let it happen. You’re completely drawn to him, so much so that you’d probably follow him to the ends of the Earth if he had asked.

When Taehyung speaks, you listen to every word, every syllable intently. He’s well spoken, playful banter coming from the both of you during your walk.

It’s no wonder that he’s your soulmate, you think, as you find how easy it is to hold a conversation with him. He’s clever, and his cute little jokes and comments make you giggle every time, a light flutter in your chest whenever he says something to you. While you’re with him, you forget about your responsibilities, about your problems. The conversations are lighthearted and happy, both of you talking about anything you could while the night was still young.

So this is what love was like.

Though quite an unconventional way to find out who your soulmate is, you thank the universe that at least you had a chance to meet. Although it was a simple, plain night, you’re sure that you’ll hold the memory close to your heart for the rest of your days.

You’re pulled away from your entranced state when you realize how late it’s gotten. Suddenly, your eyelids droop down and a yawn emits from your lips.

“Ah, I should be going,” You say, heart saddening even though you’ve actively made this decision, “It was a pleasure spending tonight with you, Taehyung. Thank you for everything.”

Before you leave, you feel him grab your wrist.

“Surely we’ll be seeing each other again?”

“If fate wills it.”

There’s a kind, yet melancholic smile you flash, like you’re consoling an innocent child with a white lie. Whether the lie was to convince you or him, you’re not sure, and if you think about it hard enough, you’d probably find that the answer isn’t one you’d like to give. But you’re taken away from your thoughts, your breath escaping your lungs again once your eyes meet with Taehyung’s.

His eyes light up at your words, and he’s beaming at you so brightly that you could replace all the lights on the Eiffel Tower with just his smile.

“Then, I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N. Have a good night.”

You laugh at his words when you think about them on your train ride back to your hotel.

But something sparks in your heart. Whether it was hope or foolishness, you couldn’t tell. There’s too fine a line to distinguish between the two. You try to ignore it, but it’s hard when your heart makes silent prayers that you could see him at least once more.

Your fingers trace the inked words on your skin, while you shake your head and chuckle at your own pitiful state. No matter how many times you’d battle between reason and emotion, reason always won. The hard truth was that the chances of you running into him is blatantly close to zero. It didn’t matter the equation, the calculations, or the perfect storm you could create. Nothing would result in a happy ending for you.

Closing your eyes to block out the newfound heartbreak you’re experiencing, you rest your head on the cold window, immersing yourself in how the fast motion of the train causes your head to bump against it over and over. It provides a sound distraction from your troubles, but it’s not enough for you to forget about the dull pain in your heart. Simply put, the fact that Taehyung had just come into your life in a matter of mere seconds and managed to turn your whole world upside down with just some playful banter and conversation stupefies you. Now you were lovestruck, diving headfirst into an unrequited love for someone who didn’t know that they were your soulmate.

A tear rolls down your face and you let out one last shaky laugh before you reach your stop.

How foolish of you to act as if you’d ever see each other again.

Paris is big enough as it is.

Fate, you’ve learned, is a terribly funny thing.

“I’m guessing fate willed it, darling,” Taehyung bows down when he grabs your hand, planting a kiss on your knuckles. The action sets your heart aflame, but you douse the fire out, “It’s a blessing that the stars are aligned for us to meet again, don’t you think?”

He’s clad in a white dress shirt with a shamrock green, V-neck sweater vest over it. There’s a tie under his collar, and he’s donning in black trousers, a belt wrapped around his waist. He has no glasses this time today, but you wouldn’t be lying if you said that Taehyung was the only person you knew who could pull off fake glasses with such messy hair. To add to that, he was also the one person who could make tousled hair seem so refined.

Sure, messy hair was a cute look on people, but no one could make it look sophisticated like him.

“Apparently so,” You giggle, your focus removed from the painting before you and now redirected to your soulmate.

It’s a good thing you chose to wear a thin turtleneck today, the black sleeves covering your new tattoo. You thank whatever powers are out there for being on your side today. While you have a calm, pleased look on your face, deep down inside it takes every strand of your being to keep yourself upright. You also deem it a blessing that you’re wearing wide-legged pants, which conceal how weak and wobbly your knees have become. The familiar feeling of weakness ticks you off, but you don’t dare show it to him as he starts to talk again.

“First time at the Louvre?” He asks, and you nod, “Mind if I join you today?”

“I certainly wouldn’t,” You answer honestly, and perhaps somewhere inside you, you beg that he’d stay with you.

You return your attention to your original task. Admiring the painting in front of you. It seems like being with Taehyung forces you into creating simple tasks to pass the time so that you don’t act like a fool in front of him.

Who knew that staring at a painting would be so hard? But nonetheless, even if you have a big distraction standing next to you, you tread on, completing the task with flying colors and actually enjoying the art.

There’s a shipwreck depicted on the shore, a dark color palette describing the distress in the scene. The more you stare at the painting, the more uneasy you feel. It makes your skin crawl, seeing how all the men are piled on top of each other, yearning for something that’s not there. They’re all in agony, wanting something desperately. What was it? Salvation? Hope? What were they reaching out for?

You let out the breath that you didn’t know was caught in your throat once you return to your senses.

It’s the first time a painting has ever struck such strong emotions in you, but then again, you haven’t been to many art museums. You’re certain that the last time you were at one was for a high school field trip, and even then you probably weren’t looking at the artwork and their stories.

In reality, you weren’t that big a fan of art. You didn’t hate it, per say, and you thought all the paintings you’ve come across were extremely beautiful, but you hated how vague everything was. You didn’t really like having to interpret every single piece you saw. It seemed like too much work, and sure, painting the actual thing was difficult, but you found it so hard to figure out the message they were trying to depict. You couldn’t read minds, after all. How could one expect that from you?

But the painting in front of you somehow speaks to you, and you can’t help but find it striking.

Your eyes bounce around to find the title and the artist. A thing that you didn’t like about art was that many of the famous paintings were created by people who were already dead. You’ve always thought it would be wonderful if you were able to give them praise for their work.

Perhaps it was true that people only appreciated things when they were gone, even people.

“The Raft of Medusa,” Taehyung says, “Théodore Géricault is quite good, no?”

“He’s amazing,” You breathe out, almost hypnotized by the painting.

“This is actually his most famous painting,” He explains, “Géricault based The Raft of Medusa off his interest in the 1816 wreck of a French frigate, Medusa, off the coast of Senegal.”

“Oh, wow,” You scan the painting once more, pretending that you knew what a frigate was. You guess that it was a type of ship, “I thought he meant the other Medusa, the one that turns men into stone.”

He laughs and you learn that his laughter is extremely contagious. You feel another subtle sense of pride when you see how his eyes are half closed because of how amused he is with your jokes.

“That would make sense,” He nods, folding his hands behind his back and going back to the topic of the actual painting, “Mr. Géricault over here took inspiration from two survivors of the wreck. In this, he emulates the hope of rescue. It’s been regarded as an icon of Romanticism.”

“You sure do know quite a lot about art,” You’re thoroughly impressed, also clueless on what exactly Romanticism is. Taehyung shrugs and wipes dust off his shoulders, his feigned arrogance humoring you.

“I dabble in the fine arts from time to time,” He quips, “Y’know, I have a lot of respect for painters.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” You reply, “I mean, look at that.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” He smiles at you, “For photographers, the only issues are basically your camera, the lighting, and angles. Maybe your subject too, if they’re human and camera shy. Painters on the other hand, have so much more they need to worry about it. Seems quite stressful.”

“Oh, definitely,” You hum. There’s a beat of silence and you try to find something worthy of conversation, and once you do, you finally speak, “So, you know anything else about Géricault?”

“Hm,” He strokes his chin, deep in thought, “Well, he’s an influential French painter and a lithographer.”

Your eyes bulge at the strange terminology near the end of his statement.

“Litho… what?”

“Lithographer.”

“What’s that?”

“Not sure,” He states, a mischievous glint in his gaze while he wiggles his eyebrows, “That’s what it says on his Wikipedia.”

You roll your eyes at him, laughter emitting once more. And to think, you were actually impressed with his knowledge (that was found off of the internet). He has a sheepish smile on his face while he tries to redeem himself, trying to assure you that he actually has a high intelligence.

“Let’s move along, darling,” He says, “I’ll prove to you that I know a lot about art, I promise.”

“Lead the way,” You respond, “Show me how much of an art aficionado you are.”

And with that, Taehyung is taking you all over the Louvre, showing you the different paintings and sculptures displayed there. He has a vast knowledge of the backstory of each art piece and the meanings behind each one, and although a majority of his information is most likely from the Internet, you can’t help but still be astonished by the way he speaks, listening intently to each word he says.

It’s the way he talks with such fervent passion, how he takes his time explaining everything to you and how he lets you experience the art for yourself. You love the way his eyes light up with each artwork, as if he’s gotten to know each piece for himself. He smiles at them like they’re old friends.

He takes a longer time explaining the history and the story about the Mona Lisa, which you guess is because he read the most about the painting and Leonardo da Vinci on Wikipedia. The first thing you think about the famous painting is that it’s a lot smaller than you think it would be. You blurt this out when you see it for the first time, and Taehyung almost wheezes at how you’re stunned by the piece’s size.

You spend the day with him at the Louvre, walking through lavish hallways of reds, cremes, golds, and other colors of the sort. You also go through other hallways with glass ceilings, watching the sunlight make a visit to the museum as well.

During all of this, Taehyung is too close for your liking, a hand always on your back while he guides you around and makes sure you don’t get bumped into by other guests. The scent of pine becomes stronger today, and you’re intoxicated by both the fragrance and his presence overall. It’s addicting being with him, talking about pieces of art you would probably forget about when you return to America.

You take a picture of each painting you see, and you’d probably delete them after a few years, but that was an issue for later, because somewhere along the way, Taehyung starts to jump into the camera’s view, posing in front of whatever painting or sculpture you’re viewing. Suddenly you feel as if these pictures wouldn’t be leaving your camera roll anytime soon.

And just with the snap of your fingers, the day is over. Even though you spent all of it with Taehyung, it wasn’t enough. You want more. You want to drown in nothing but him. But when you finally remind yourself to be realistic, you recognize the blessing of seeing one more time. Perhaps it was a pity meeting, one the universe granted you in order to ease the pain you’d experience for the rest of your sad, lonely life.

You can’t help but ask for more when he walks you to your train. Talking to him and being in his company is intoxicating. He’s versatile, sophisticated yet charmingly hilarious at the right times. His flirting never comes off as sleazy or creepy. He’s eloquent in his words at all times, compliments never failing to make your heart skip a beat.

When you retire to your bed, ecstatic and in a half-asleep daze, you grab your phone to scroll through the pictures you’ve taken. A stupid grin is stuck on your face while you swipe through your camera roll, admiring Taehyung instead of the actual artwork. Your eyes trace his smile, his lips, and his cheeks, and you become flustered just thinking about the time you’ve spent together today.

“Litho… what?”

“Lithographer.”

Snickering at the memory, you go to the internet and search up what exactly a lithographer is. Reenacting what Taehyung probably did in his spare time, you click on the “Lithography” article on Wikipedia.

Description: Lithography is a method of printing originally based on the immiscibility of oil and water. The printing is from a stone or a metal plate with a smooth surface. It was invented in 1796…

Your head droops down and then violently jerks back up once you realize that you were accidentally falling asleep. Rubbing your eyes and deleting the tab, you sense that you’re satisfied already with what you’ve read about the practice. Before you go to bed, one of your conversations with Taehyung at the Louvre flashes in your mind.

“So, where are you from?”

“South Korea,” He replies, “And you?”

“America. Chicago, to be exact.”

Opening up a blank tab, you ask the internet how far America is from South Korea. The answer, as you expected, was cruel.

Dejected, you place your phone on the nightstand, shutting off the lamp and lulling yourself in a dull, dreamless sleep. You try to forget the answer to your burning question, but the pain you’ve been avoiding for the past two days resurfaces. It’s one that you can’t sleep away, no matter how hard you try. But as stubborn as you are, you do your best to.

Despite your attempts, the distance laughs at you, and even though Taehyung and you are in the same city and you’re very well aware that you could’ve told him everything, you feel the same distance as your respective homes whenever you’re with him.

Could you blame yourself, though? You had just met him.

Regardless, your heart breaks at the thought of him.

And even though he’s your soulmate and he deserves to know, you still feel the large gap between the two of you. When you close your eyes, all you can see is him and all you can think of is the daunting number that provides you your doom.

6,690.

There’s a 6,690 mile-wide gap between you and Taehyung. One that you’d never be able to cross.

Tuesday morning comes along, and the universe decides to have mercy on you today.

You’re seated outside a cafe, the fresh air providing a solace for you. A devious smile finds its way on your lips while you send a picture of your breakfast to Jungkook. You tap onto the photo itself, admiring your handiwork.

The pain au chocolat plated before you is dusted beautifully with powdered sugar, and the bowl of strawberries next to your breakfast is bright red. Both appear absolutely delectable on the screen, and you’re almost entranced by the way the sunlight makes the strawberries so shiny. They almost look fake.

You applaud yourself for choosing such an amazing angle for your food. Jungkook would definitely become jealous at just the sight of your breakfast. And since it’s 2 AM in your shared flat back home in Chicago, he was most definitely awake, because the boy just doesn’t sleep at all, save for the two hour naps he takes on the couch in the afternoon every single day.

And as if on cue, a quiet snicker erupts when you see the typing bubble with three dots appearing. The speech bubble disappears, and suddenly you see your face on the screen and Jungkook’s contact name on the top. You roll your eyes to no one in particular, shifting through your purse to take out earbuds before answering the call. Your face is replaced with Jungkook laying in the dark of his room, his eyebrows furrowed deeply and a pout on his face.

“Fuck you,” He whines, and you do your best to hold back the mischievous laughter you want to let out, “Now I’m hungry.”

You use your glass of orange juice as a phone stand and you smirk at him, grabbing your chocolate filled croissant and unabashedly taking a large bite of the pastry. Some of the chocolate seeps out and falls on your plate, the rest of it painting the corners of your lips. Your cheek puffs out, now stuffed with fluffy, sweet pastry, and you wipe away the remnants of melted chocolate on your face with a napkin. It’s flaky, yet gooey from the chocolate. And it’s absolutely delicious.

“Don’t do that,” Jungkook huffs, and you hear his stomach roar, “Oh my- Fuck you, Y/N.”

You wriggle your brows at him, still extremely smug even if you don’t appear very ladylike to the other guests seated outside as well. You feel triumphant. After all, you were eating the one thing Jungkook would talk about on the daily before you left for France.

(Of course, he only was pining over pain au chocolat because it was the only French food he knew about.)

“You’re so rude to me,” He groans, rubbing his eyes, “And for what?”

“As if you’re a complete angel,” You retort, “Have you even done the laundry yet? Cleaned your room? Washed the dishes since I left?”

He stays silent, and you shoot death glares through the screen.

“You little shit,” You curse quietly. He chuckles sheepishly and flashes you a nervous grin.

“I promise I will. Eventually.”

“Eventually?” You cock a brow, and he nods, “You mean, eventually as in ‘Oh let me wait for Y/N to do this when she gets home!’ eventually?”

He stays silent, the strained smile on his face still present.

“I hate you.”

“I’ll pay rent for the next two months,” You give him an accusatory look at his offer, “And I’ll buy you pizza every week.”

“Fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, and once he’s in the clear, he’s back to making fun of you again.

“I bet you ordered your food in English, like an idiot,” He snickers, “I bet you were like, ‘Um, hey, can I have one pain au chocolat?’”

He over accentuates his words, imitating the way you order food at restaurants. His pronunciation of pain au chocolat (which, phonetically written would be: payn-ow-chockolat) is a mocking depiction of a strong American accent, one that he constantly teases you about even though he’s too afraid to order food for himself in any language.

“Um, hey, for your information,” You scoff, swinging around the croissant in your hands passionately, “I ordered in French!”

That was a lie. A complete and utter lie. And Jungkook’s reenactment was a pretty accurate one, but in your defense, you did pronounce pain au chocolat correctly before throwing your money at the employee behind the cashier.

So basically, you did order in French, if we were really being technical.

Jungkook can definitely see through your bluff, but from the way your breakfast is being swooped around in the air—a habit of yours that appears whenever you get worked up—Jungkook knows that he shouldn’t mess with you any longer. He definitely is tempted to, though. And maybe some of the tempation gets to him, because he parts his lips to say that you’re a terrible liar, but before he can get a word in, he sees you jump and yelp out of the blue.

You set your pain au chocolat on the plate and push it away from whatever’s in your line of vision. Then, a dog barks, and Jungkook connects the dots. You click your tongue at him, wagging a finger as a dismissal of the dog’s request.

The little dog almost looks like a ball of black and brown fur with two smaller light brown circles as eyebrows. There’s also light brown fur on the dog's belly, as well as its ears. It barks at you enthusiastically, tongue sticking out and panting while its eyes are glued onto your breakfast.

“That’s not for you, bub,” Your voice gets an octave higher, “This has chocolate! Not good!”

You hear Jungkook groan over the line, cringing at your baby voice for the dog. You pay him no attention, because Jungkook is 10x sweeter—and even more cringe-inducing—around dogs than you are right now. Instead, you pet the dog as a way of apologizing to it for not giving it your food. It leans into your touch, licking your hand and sniffing at it. The dog rubs itself against your hand eagerly, and you giggle at how the fur tickles you.

It gives you an enthusiastic bark before pawing at your chair, asking you to pick it up. You gently pick up the small dog, holding it up like a baby. The dog licks at your face, and Jungkook is long forgotten. You’re more than elated at how the dog is so happy to see you. You notice how its owner is nowhere to be present, the dog’s leash hanging down and touching the pavement.

“Where’s your owner, cutie?” You ask, and something glitters under its fur. You carefully push away the fur, revealing the dog’s collar.

Yeontan is pressed on a gold, circular name tag.

“What an interesting name,” You muse.

Then, you hear rapid footsteps and heavy breathing.

When you look up from the dog, you’re met with none other than Kim Taehyung himself, toppled over on the ground while he tries to catch his breath. He doesn’t seem to notice that it’s you his dog has run to, but when he finally returns to his senses, he gets a sight of you and his eyes widen. Yeontan jumps out of your arms and runs to Taehyung, barking at him while his tail waggles around frantically in the air.

You’ve got a stunned look on your face as well, and you can hear Jungkook asking you if you’re okay multiple times, but you put his voice at the back of your mind.

So maybe the universe wanted to mess with you a little more today.

“Kook, I’ll talk to you later,” You mumble, ending the call right away. You take off your earbuds and put them back in your purse. During all this, Taehyung makes his way to the seat in front of you.

He holds Yeontan in his lap, bouncing him up and down like a baby. The sight makes you giggle. It’s so endearing to you, watching Taehyung stare at his dog with so much love. You almost feel jealous at how much he loves Yeontan, wishing that he could reserve some of it for you, but you stop yourself, feeling incredibly stupid at how you almost made an innocent dog become one of your biggest enemies.

The dog barks at you now, and you grin at it, waving.

“He likes you a lot,” Taehyung coos, more at the dog than at you.

“I’m honored,” You reply, taking another bite out of your croissant.

You become so focused on eating that when Taehyung speaks, you almost choke.

“Seems like the stars want us to see each other again,” He hums, and you hold back the cough you want to let out. A few bits of the pastry go down the wrong tube, but you stifle the barrage of coughs waiting to come out. You take a sip of your orange juice in an attempt to soothe your windpipes.

“It certainly seems so.”

Taehyung beams at you, the familiar wide, boxy grin making an appearance yet again. He’s obviously amused by your attempt to seem sophisticated even though you were choking seconds ago. You smile back at him, wiping away the crumbs and chocolate on your mouth.

It was quite unfortunate that you were such a messy eater.

He doesn’t tease you for anything, which is quite the relief for you. Instead, he waits for you to finish before talking again.

“Today I’m taking Tannie here for a much needed walk,” Taehyung says, raising the dog a little so you can see him more, “Would you mind accompanying us?”

“It’d be a pleasure to,” You respond a little too eagerly for your liking, but you can’t take anything back since now you’re being whisked away from your table.

You find yourself walking on the cobblestone paths, your white heel ankle boots a stark contrast to the gray beneath your feet. Taehyung has the one arm out, letting Yeontan lead the way, while his free hand is shoved in the pocket of his sweatpants. It’s only now that you notice how he’s outfit is a lot more casual and laid back than before, a funny juxtaposition from the gingham pinafore you’re wearing over a white blouse with frilly sleeves.

Taehyung’s sporting a pair of black, wide legged sweatpants, the fabric resting on top of his white sneakers. Over the baggy pants, he has a loose dark blue sweater with an obscure painting of a man and a woman you’ve never seen before. His hair is messier than usual, indicating that he was going for a “relaxed” look today. You wonder if this was code for him waking up and wearing his pajamas outside.

The city is as animated as ever, people walking around hastily and tourists taking pictures anywhere they can. You take a few pictures of cute stores you see, sending them to your roommate and your family so they can get a glimpse of Paris. Taehyung gives you little tidbits of the shops he’s been to, even taking you there and sometimes window shopping with you if they allowed dogs in the building.

While strolling the city, you’ve discovered that Yeontan, in short, is an extremely lively dog.

“I mean, you’d think he’d be like this all the time, right?” Taehyung asks, and you nod, “But right when we get home, Tannie over here is already knocked out on the floor and he won’t wake up for another four hours.”

“Must be tiring living his life,” You talk as if you’ve said some profound words, which earns you another delighted chuckle from Taehyung.

“Oh, to be a dog walking the streets of Paris,” He adds, making you giggle.

“Truly.”

A few moments of clever banter occur, and you enjoy every second. It’s starting to become a habit, where you latch onto every word Taehyung says, memorizing them so you can reflect on them when your vacation ends. Whether it’s articulate or not, you hold each word near and dear to your heart, because you want to have something other than the single sentence inked on your skin and the pictures in your camera roll to remember him by.

In the middle of your stroll, you see something almost as interesting as Taehyung. Almost.

“Holy shit,” You breathe out, stopping in your tracks, which causes Taehyung to do so as well. He looks at you with great concern, wondering what exactly is preoccupying your mind, “Is that a mime?!”

Taehyung follows your line of vision and he sees the said object of your attention that’s standing in the center of the plaza. A man in white face paint wearing a typical mime uniform: a black and white striped shirt, suspenders with black pants, and a black beret to top it all off. If his lips weren’t painted red, you’d think he was taken out of a black and white silent movie.

“I thought they were like, a myth!”

“You wanna watch him?”

Before Taehyung can say anything else, you’re already grabbing him by the hand and dragging both him and Yeontan along so you can get a better look at the mime. Your eyes light up when you get to see him up close. Watching a mime during a relaxing Tuesday stroll—with Kim Taehyung, of all people—certainly wasn’t what you expected to do today, but you can’t complain.

The mime blows up a balloon with exaggerated struggle. Then he makes it so huge that it almost blows him away with the wind. The performance puts you in hysterics, and you’d almost be embarrassed by how easy it is to impress you if it wasn’t for how entertaining the show was for you. The performer catches a glimpse of your strong appreciation for his act, and he blows you a comical kiss, dramatizing each movement to the highest extent. You grin at the mime, pretending to catch the kiss and place it on your cheek.

While you’re overjoyed at the performance, Taehyung almost seems irritated by it. You ask him if he’s alright multiple times during the show, and he simply just smiles at you, reassuring you that everything is okay and that you should enjoy the wonders of the art of mime.

You comply with his wishes, labeling his strange behavior as possible boredom or indifference.

When the show ends, you’re giving the mime a round of applause while Taehyung now has both hands shoved in his pockets. He’s more focused on Yeontan than he is on seeking an encore from the mime like you are.

Eventually, the crowd disperses, and an imaginary light bulb flashes above your head while you think of, quite possibly, the best idea you’ve ever conjured in your life.

“Tae!” You start, giving him your phone. The nickname goes unnoticed by you, as you tend to shorten your friends’ names involuntarily most of the time, and the way Taehyung’s ears turn red goes unnoticed by you as well, “Can you take a picture of me with the mime?”

“Of course, darling.”

And with that, you’re running off to the mime, practically begging him for photos. You hand him a few dollars and the mime agrees to your request. Taehyung gets closer to you two so that he can get the best possible pictures of you with your newfound idol. Yeontan’s leash is wrapped around his wrist, ensuring that he won’t break loose while Taehyung does another impromptu photoshoot for you.

A majority of the photos end up being you with a wide, crooked, and overjoyed grin while you throw up a peace sign and the mime does obscure poses next to you.

When Taehyung is satisfied with the amount of pictures taken, you thank the mime over and over for letting you take pictures with him. Before you can leave, though, he gestures to Taehyung, telling him to stand next to you. Taehyung, albeit a little confused, goes over to you, and the mime grabs your phone, now becoming the photographer for you and Taehyung. You’re a little confused as well, but you shrug to the male next to you and decide to just go with whatever the mime has planned.

The mime also whistles to Yeontan, patting his thigh so the dog can come over to him. Surprisingly enough, when Taehyung lets go of his leash, Yeontan waddles his way over to the mime and sits down obediently.

To say that Taehyung is baffled would be an understatement.

Then, you see a gloved hand gesture for you to stand close to Taehyung. You follow his orders, leaving a little under an inch of space between you and him. The mime then repeats the action with more fervor, telling you to stand closer. You and Taehyung move closer, arms now touching awkwardly. The both of you have smiles on your faces, yet neither one of you is leaning towards each other. You’re just standing next to his side, getting ready for the mime to take the picture, and your mouth starts to hurt from how long you’re holding your smile.

Instead of taking a picture, the mime watches you from the camera and lets out an exasperated huff, stomping over to you. You suppress a laugh. Even now, all of his movements are comically overdone. The mime grabs Taehyung’s arm rather forcefully, and both of you are a little scared of his sudden aggression.

He then guides Taehyung’s arm to the place he wants it to go: around your waist.

Your feel your face heat up while you try to act as aloof as possible, like your soulmate isn’t wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in, leaving absolutely no space between you two. He seems unphased by the action, so you try your best to not seem like you’re completely freaking out right now.

Satisfied with the way you’re posing, the mime finally snaps pictures of you two on your phone.

Your smile is a lot more reserved than before, and so is Taehyung’s, a soft red appearing on the tips of his ears and on his cheeks.

But unlike before and despite being a little resigned, your smiles are a lot more genuine, as you feel his arm secure around your waist and you take in the lovely, intoxicating scent of pine that floods your senses yet again.

You’re certain that the pictures would probably end up looking strange, and Taehyung is wearing baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt while you’re a lot more put together in your dress and ankle boots, but you don’t really care. You can’t seem to find yourself becoming worried with how the pictures end up, because Taehyung’s still holding you by the waist as the mime hands him your phone. You can still smell the pine, and his body feels warm against you.

“They ended up pretty good, don’t you think?” He shows you one of the many photos, and you nod, surprised at how nicely they turned out. You swipe through the new additions to your camera roll, Taehyung occasionally pulling you closer to him when a passerby is about to bump into you.

The two of you thank the mime, and he bows, walking back over to his usual station so that he can prepare for another show. Yeontan runs up to Taehyung, pawing at his leg, and it isn’t until you let out a cough that Taehyung notices he’s still holding you. He quickly lets go, offering to take you to another store that he saw around here. You take him up on his offer, wanting nothing more than to alleviate the tension the mime had created for you.

For the rest of the day, you walk through different streets and different shops, experiencing all the novelties Paris has to offer. Taehyung and you get lunch and dinner together, neither of you able to say goodbye until the sky turns pitch black and the moon and the stars appear, telling you that you actually need to leave.

When you return to your hotel room, throwing yourself onto your bed and sinking into it, you spend the rest of your night looking at the photos that glorious mime had taken for you.

The only bummer is that you didn’t muster the courage to ask for his number today, which means that Taehyung isn’t able to keep the pictures for himself. But maybe that isn’t so bad. You most likely weren’t going to see him anymore after today, you were sure of it. There was a gut feeling you had right when you said goodbye to him. And who knew if Taehyung wanted them in the first place?

Your heart gushes at a specific picture you come across. It’s a candid one, and in the photo you’re fixing Taehyung’s hair because some of the wind had pushed it around in a not so flattering way. A smile creeps up on your face and you become flustered when you see how he’s staring at you while you adjust his messy, messy hair.

It feels ridiculous, you losing sleep over a set of stupid pictures. You’ve suddenly become a school girl fawning over her crush, freaking out and overanalyzing every single action Taehyung does and every single word he says. You replay the whole day with him in your mind, wondering if there was anything that could reveal who his soulmate was. Or if there was anything that showed his feelings toward you.

Did he like holding you? Did he want to hold you for longer? What would he have said if you were brave enough to ask him to? Would you have ruined the acquaintanceship you were just starting to develop?

You find yourself laughing when you see the extent of Taehyung’s power over you. Strangely enough, you don’t feel scared at all. All you can think about, all you can feel, is his arm wrapped around your waist.

You pray that the mime has a good life and that one day he’ll be awarded for being the miracle maker that he is, and you laugh one last time before falling asleep, because who knew it’d take a random street performer for you to be held by your own soulmate?

Wednesday is most likely the day you’ve been waiting for the most. Not that you didn’t enjoy the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, and the many other sights you’ve been to on your vacation. You enjoyed them very much. Today, however, is one of the main reasons why you wanted to go to Paris when you read about it in your textbook.

As you stare outside of your train window, you can barely stay still in your seat. The skies are clear and the sun shines brightly, blinding you a little when some of its rays enter through the glass. You bite your lip, holding back the grin of pure joy that is waiting to make an appearance. Without thinking, you pick at random pieces of lint on your clothes, your right leg bouncing up and down in excited anticipation.

30 minutes until you reach the Palace of Versailles.

Ever since you learned about the palace in high school during one of your world history classes, you had become fascinated with it.

While its decadent architecture and its intimidating size is notable and impressive, you were also intrigued by its use in political affairs. You were always intrigued with how King Louis XIV had the Palace of Versailles just to brag about his royalty while also keeping the nobles close so that they wouldn’t conspire against him.

It’s baffling what you can do when you have so much money and power.

While waiting for the train to reach your next stop, you think about what you would do if you were in the king’s shoes. If you had that big of a palace, would you use it to keep your enemies close? Or just to brag about your own power and wealth?

In reality, when you imagine yourself as someone in royalty, you find it quite boring. It must be tiring to have power, being in constant fear of losing your position. You’d also have to keep up your reputation, so that meant anything that was undesirable in the public eye could ruin you.

And while the lavish life does seem interesting, you realize that being someone normal is quite desirable too.

But you still haven’t answered your own question: if you had a palace as big and as extravagant as the Palace of Versailles, what would you do?

Someone snaps their fingers unnervingly close to your face. Your whole body jerks abruptly, the dazed look in your eyes disappearing as you wonder what had happened while you were thinking so deeply.

“Darling, are you alright?”

You turn to your right to see Kim Taehyung yet again. You’re about to go on your knees and beg the universe to give you a break today, but unfortunately you can’t do that without seeming like a psychopath to both him and the other train passengers.

“I’m, uh, I’m alright,” You mumble, fixing your posture in your seat. How long were you sitting there like that, slouched over in a daze? Also, how long was Taehyung sitting there?

He must’ve gotten on during one of the stops, because he’s still adjusting himself in the seat. He gives you a soft, sympathetic smile as he notices your stunned expression. You truly were given quite the scare.

“What brings you here on the train today?” He asks, relieving the tension between you two.

“Palace of Versailles,” You respond, “And you?”

“Musee d’Orsay,” There’s a strange hint of what seems like disappointment on his face, but you can’t pinpoint if that’s what it really is. He fixes his green button down shirt that has delicate white flowers printed on the fabric. His hand tugs on the collar, it being a little wider than usual since he has the first button loose. This creates a relaxed, stylish look for him, but you had to admit that the shirt was a little too loose and a little too thin for your liking.

You take a hard swallow while you avert your eyes from his golden skin peeking under the shirt. To distract yourself, your hand flies over to the thick, yellow bangle on your right wrist. It stealthily conceals your tattoo, and you silently praise Jungkook for demanding that you wear his birthday gift to you from three years ago with your outfit today. What a relief it was, you think, to have Jungkook scold you for not wearing the bracelet.

And despite it being a little ugly to you, you thank it for existing. Right now, this bangle was your Superman.

“Are you excited?” Taehyung asks, and you’re pulled away from your thoughts yet again. If it was anyone else, you’d think that they were extremely rude and insufferable.

“Very,” You reply, and there comes his smile again, leaving you flustered and speechless for the thousandth time this week.

“It’s funny running into you again, no?” He chuckles, and you wholeheartedly agree.

“You’re not stalking me, are you?” You look at him in joking accusation, and he puts his hands up.

“Oh dear, now why would I do that to you?” He sighs, and your teasing comes to a halt when he pushes away some of the loose strands falling on your face. His voice comes to a low whisper, a hint of a smile appearing, “But it seems like fate has willed it once again, no?”

He examines your face closely while his hand stays where it’s landed, and you shy under his gaze. Your eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets, and you’re internally pinching yourself as a reminder that you’re not dreaming.

The sun shines on his skin, his complexion looking even better than usual. His usually dark brown eyes turn into pools of glittering honey under the sunlight and you wonder why Taehyung spends his life behind the camera instead of in front. He could very well pass as a model and succeed in the industry with no issue at all.

Your eyes are locked on each other, taking each other in as the tension—the very same tension you tried so hard to relieve seconds ago—returns tenfold.

It takes a few moments before Taehyung realizes what he’s doing. He pulls away and folds his hands in his lap, and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You’re speechless and confused at the sudden change in character, like he was trying to flirt with you but he realized that he pulled it off too well.

Taehyung was going to be the death of you, and he wasn’t even aware of it.

An idea pops into your mind and a spark flashes in your heart. You gulp, wondering if you should ask him to stay with you today, to have him accompany you on your first experience of the Palace of Versailles. That certainly would make it more enjoyable than it already would be.

It shouldn’t be an issue, right? He’s asked you to join him, and you cancelled your own schedule in a heartbeat for him. Surely he could do the same for you.

You hype yourself up. You only had so many days left in Paris. This was no or never. Your lips part and you wait a little before you can actually manage to speak with a clear voice.

This was it.

Maybe you’d get to spend another day with Taehyung. All you needed to do was just ask one question. You reaffirm yourself. You could do this, right? Everything would be fine… Right?

You nod, preparing to speak. Here goes nothing.

“Where’s Yeontan?”

You wince at yourself, thinking about the magnitude of your own stupidity.

“Ah, I have a friend around here that watches him from time to time,” He pauses, quirking a brow at you, “Certainly you don’t miss him more than me?”

“Never,” You instinctively breath out, speaking too eagerly for your own liking once again.

He has a satisfied look on his face, enjoying your flustered state, and you pray that the bus could crash into something and that the world could create a sinkhole to swallow you up… Or that your phone could ring. Anything to get you out of this conversation. The world doesn’t perform any of these actions, instead letting you take matters into your own hands.

“I mean, not that I- no, I just, ugh, I didn’t mean to-“

You feel a sharp pinch to one of your cheeks, and Taehyung’s laughter follows suit. The heavy, hooded gaze he had dissipates, and he’s returned to his happy, lighthearted self in an instant.

“Just teasing,” His words slur together while he stares at you endearingly.

Not only could Taehyung be a model, but he could be an actor too. Who knew your soulmate was so multi-faceted?

“It’s rude to put people on the spot like that,” You fan yourself as you speak, a futile effort to relieve the heat that has risen to your face.

“Can’t deny that it’s fun,” He teases back, and you feel like you’re going insane, restraining everything in you so you can’t just grab him by his face and kiss him.

He changes the topic so you don’t become any more embarrassed, making light conversation about Yeontan and his strange, strange habits. When you finally regain your composure, the train stops abruptly. Taehyung stands up from his seat when he hears the speakers announcing what station you’re in, and you feel yourself already longing for his presence again.

“Darling, as much as I’d love to stay with you today,” He says apologetically, “I must get going now.”

Today, something in you compels you to grab his wrist, and Taehyung stops in his tracks. You don’t have much time before the train starts moving again, so your words sputter out rapidly.

“Can I see you again?”

It’s the first time you’ve acted out. The first time you’ve asked Taehyung, or anyone, really, so boldly. Both Taehyung and you yourself are surprised by this, but Taehyung quickly replaces this with a warm, joyful look in his eyes, like he had been waiting for you to do this all along.

“Do you know Pont Neuf, my darling?”

“The bridge?” You say, and he nods, “Um, then yes.”

“Meet me there tomorrow night, 6:00 PM sharp,” He grabs your hand that has a grip on him, and brings it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “I’ll be waiting.”

“Then, I’ll see you there,” You beam at him, and he can’t help but smile back at you.

And like that, what seemed like such a long train ride had somehow depleted into mere seconds once Taehyung sat next to you. Now he was gone, and you were reaching your destination promptly.

When you finally got to the Palace of Versailles, to say that it was big was quite the understatement.

During your whole exploration of the palace, you were struck with awe and wonder at the delicate, luxurious architecture and sculptures, the spacious (multiple) rooms, and the vast, breathtaking gardens. You capture a multitude of pictures of the Hall of Mirrors, and you find yourself entranced by the gold decor and well-crafted sculptures. Upon seeing the throne room and the rooms of the king and the queen, a shiver runs down your spine, imagining the lives of the French monarchy up until their demise.

It’s almost haunting, knowing that centuries ago, peasants were storming the halls of the building and forcing the king and queen to move to Tuileries. And that they lived lives of luxury while the citizens were basically just left to die.

You’re amazed and impressed with your own memory of history and if Taehyung were with you, you’d probably be spitting out random factoids left and right, just like he did during your visit to the Louvre. You walk through the palace, eyes full of wonder as you try to take in as much of it as you can. Your camera roll was most likely suffering with all the pictures you had taken here.

While it was incredibly beautiful and you enjoyed having a whole day to yourself in such a high-class, sophisticated setting, the sense of longing for Taehyung’s presence never seemed to go away. You’d ask yourself what Taehyung would say if he heard all of the information you had to share about the history of this place.

Would he be impressed? Would he be proud? Maybe he’d even let you take a picture of him next to one of the sculptures. Or you could take a picture with him again in the garden, or the dining hall.

And during your self-given tour of the Palace of Versailles, you finally found the answer to the question you had asked yourself earlier on the train.

If you had a home as big and as beautiful as the Palace of Versailles, you wouldn’t keep your enemies close to you, nor would you brag about the extent of your own power and your own wealth. You wouldn’t have fancy dinners with friends, you wouldn’t hold any grand balls, and you wouldn’t give them tours of the palace, showing off the newest decorations you had installed recently.

You wouldn’t do any of those.

If you had a home like the Palace of Versailles, all you’d want is to have it with Taehyung and Yeontan. All you’d want is to have nice dinners with him, regardless if it’s pizza or the fanciest meal you could afford, and to hear Yeontan’s soft pats on the clean floors while he runs around to his heart’s content. You’d love nothing more than to have him next to you, to have Yeontan jumping onto the bed and licking your face so you can wake up in the morning.

And it’s during then you realize that no matter how big or how small your house was, if you had Taehyung and Yeontan there with you, then you could proudly say that you’d die happy.

It’s Thursday evening, and the excitement that had kept you wide awake during the night was slowly fading away.

You kick at a few pebbles while you watch the sunset with a permanent frown on your face. The sun was already leaving you and Taehyung was nowhere to be seen. You check the time on your phone, which also has a handful of texts from Jungkook and your coworkers that are left unattended.

6:55

Your heart sinks, but you bombard yourself with reassuring thoughts so you can build yourself up. Taehyung was probably taking care of Yeontan, or maybe he had an upset stomach so he had to resolve that before leaving. He might’ve overslept and he was probably already on his way to you right now. You hope that you’re right.

A few more minutes pass, and you’re still alone. You know that you shouldn’t be counting the minutes until he comes, but you can’t really help it. You’ve been looking forward to this ever since he told you to meet you here at the bridge.

Another sigh falls from your lips, the overwhelming amount of joy in your heart now shriveling away into disappointment as the vibrant orange and red painted sky slowly turns into a sky of an abysmal pitch black. Before you know it, an hour has already passed, and you’re still standing at Pont Neuf, watching the glimmer in the Seine disappear.

Should you stay for a little longer? Hold out a little more for him?

No, that was stupid. You’re being stupid.

With hope no longer present, you leave to go home, finally parting with your wishes of seeing him again.

The next day, the last full day of your vacation, you wake up with a heavy heart and an even heavier body. As if you’re made out of lead, you struggle with each step you take throughout the day. You use this time to—albeit begrudgingly—finally break yourself free from the consuming thoughts of Taehyung that have been playing on repeat in your mind.

It’s when you’re really by yourself, eating dinner at a fancy bistro that had a name you couldn’t pronounce, that you truly understand the extent of your own foolishness.

Here you were, brokenhearted over someone you met this week while you were almost done with your own vacation. One you’d been saving up for ever since you started working! A shiver runs down your spin while you think of returning back to work soon, having to strain a smile and reading paper after paper while acting as if you hadn’t just met your soulmate who, coincidentally, had made no effort to make it known to you if you were his or not.

How were you supposed to return to work now knowing what you know?

The conundrum you’re in makes your head throb, rendering you dizzy and unable to stand properly. Or it could be the copious glasses of champagne you consumed in the last hour. Either way, it hurt and you didn’t know what to do.

With stumbling strides and hazy vision—made thanks to both your watery eyes and your intoxicated state—you somehow find a way to the steps of the Sacre Coeur, the basilica known for having one of the best views of the sunset. You sift your way through the other tourists, and find a spot on the stairs where you’re mostly left alone. Your slump down onto the step, your denim jeans scratching against you when your bottom hits the concrete.

The fresh, cold night air relieves some of the sharp pains in your chest, and you take breath after breath hungrily, wanting the short lived relief in your chest to stay. It sobers you up slightly, and you dazedly watch the sunset, the familiar orange and red painting the sky. You try your hardest to not think of Taehyung, to not imagine what could’ve happened if he had come to see you the other day, but eventually a tear rolls down your cheek and you’ve already broken down the one boundary you set up for yourself today. A shaky sigh falls from your lips while you wipe away the tears falling from your eyes, attempting to not get the attention from the strangers around you.

You ultimately fail, however, when a little girl comes to you, handing you a tissue. She has her blond hair styled into pigtails, and she has a cute white dress on. Her grin is warm, a few empty gaps between teeth showing you that the tooth fairy was a regular guest under her pillow. You thank her, sheepishly smiling back while she gives you a hug. She then runs off to somewhere you can’t see. It’s a fleeting moment, characteristic of your interactions with other people during the entirety of your vacation, but it does give you some solace. You use the tissue to actually get rid of your tears, your now clear vision allowing you to properly enjoy the sunset.

It’s beautiful, vibrant hues leaving you in awe at the beauty of the world, but annoyingly, you aren’t content with this beauty. Somehow you’re still yearning for Taehyung, like the men on the Medusa yearning for hope and rescue.

You think it’s interesting how both efforts are futile, as the things you’re both yearning for have become so unattainable.

A few slow, slow moments pass, and now the sun is gone, and a majority of the people around you start to leave, having other plans for their night. So now you’re truly left by yourself. It’s just you, the moon, and the stars.

You almost find it funny, how lonely you truly are. You’re now convinced that living in a big house with a lovely dog was your set future, an inevitable outcome in your cards. What’s most confusing to you is that before you were completely unaffected by this notion. Now, you can’t stop yourself from breaking down whenever you think about it.

You rest your face in your hands, closing your eyes and allowing the darkness to give you peace, to give you rest. The stinging in your eyes subsides, and it isn’t until someone coughs, startling you, that you’re taken out of your spiraling headspace.

When you look up, you’re met with a black trousers and black sneakers. Then, your eyes trail upwards, scanning the white trench coat and the grey turtleneck underneath. You’re ultimately met with the familiar striking, brown eyes you’ve been longing to see, some black strands falling before it.

You can’t tell whether you feel resentment or happiness when you see Taehyung, but either way you’re rendered speechless by his presence.

He seems awkward under your gaze, hands shifting around in his pockets while they bunch the interior fabric from time to time. He averts eye contact to you while you stare at him rather intensely.

“Hey, Y/N, I-“

You look forward, patting onto the cement next to you. He follows your command, sitting down by your side.

“It’s a shame I missed the sunset.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “Truly.”

For some reason, you can’t stay mad at him, no matter how hard you try. As you stare at him, the champagne from before makes him look even more ethereal than he already is to you, so much so that you’re still uncertain on whether or not he’s truly your soulmate. The tattoo concealed under your blouse, however, tingles on your skin and says otherwise.

“Y/N, I-“

He starts again, but out of nowhere, you decide it’s a good idea to rest your head on his shoulder. He stiffens upon contact, but eventually relaxes so that you can feel comfortable. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, and the warmth of his body causes you to become sleepy, half lidded eyes fixed on the skies while the two of you stay silent.

“Taehyung?” You whisper, catching his attention.

“Yes?”

“How are you so good a-at English?” You slur, making it obvious that you’re intoxicated.

“Had to learn it if I wanted to succeed in my work,” He explains, resting his head atop of yours.

“That’s cool,” You mumble, and he nods, “Stars look pretty tonight.”

“They do,” He takes a deep breath, “Hey, did you have a good time at the Louvre?”

“Really fun,” You say, cutting out certain parts of the statement you really want to say.

It would have been really fun with you.

“That’s good to hear, darling.”

You wish he wouldn’t call you that right now, of all times. What sucks is that you couldn’t raise your voice at him. You couldn’t get really angry, slap him, and then walk away. Neither of you decide to address the conflict at hand, and at the same time you aren’t really entitled to do so, as you were still complete strangers. You know very well to not become attached to someone you barely know.

So why was it so easy to trust him?

You curse the universe for handing you such a sad set of cards. What had you done in the past to deserve this?

This isn’t right, you decide.

You stand up, almost toppling over and tumbling down the stairs. Taehyung has to hold you close to him, has to steady you so you can stand on your own two feet. You feel pitiful, depending on Taehyung to balance yourself and also, secretly, clutching onto him selfishly so you can just feel him near you.

“I should, uh,” You sniffle, “I should go back to my hotel… It’s late.”

Taehyung responds a few minutes after you speak, finally sorting out the incoherent mix of words that you were trying to say. When he comprehends your statement, he shakes his head.

“You’re drunk, Y/N,” He gently scolds, “You shouldn’t be by yourself like this.”

You’re about to spit out a sarcastic comment when Taehyung gets on the step below you and crouches down. He shows off his wide back to you, arms reaching behind him.

“What?”

“C’mon,” He says, “Get on.”

In your drunken stupor, you comply with his commands, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his broad shoulders as he loops his hands under your thighs. He then begins to walk down the stairs, causing you to bounce against his back lightly. The motion, combined with his warmth and the soft, fuzzy fabric of his trench coat causes you to become sleepy, your eyes returning to the half lidded position it was in mere seconds ago.

Taehyung hums along to a made up melody and you finally fall asleep, allowing yourself to find shelter in his presence.

A dim, yellow glow encompasses your vision and causes you to wake up. When your eyes open, Taehyung is gently setting you down against the headpost of a bed. The room you’re in is unfamiliar to you, revealing that you were in his hotel room and not in your own. His mattress sinks under your weight, and the first thing you notice is how unbelievably comfortable it is.

You would be scared, but when Taehyung sees you awake and a soft smile forms on his lips, you feel anything but.

“Hi,” He coos at your dazed state, tucking some strands behind your ear, “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” You croak out.

“Well now that you’re awake,” He thinks out loud, “We should probably get you out of those uncomfy clothes, right, darling?”

You nod, raising your arms up so he can carry you, and he chuckles, staring at you endearingly. He sneaks his arms under your back and your knees, holding you up bridal style as he takes you to the bathroom. You gaze up at him, taking in his features. Having Taehyung tend to your needs feels both unreal and too real for you, and you have a hard time comprehending your surroundings.

When he reaches the bathroom, he sets you on the bathroom counter.

“I’m just gonna get something, okay?” He lightly pinches your cheek, making you giggle, “You stay put right here.”

You nod again, not being able to say or think anything coherent. All you can think of is Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung. His name circles around your mind and repeats over and over like a chant in your ears. You can smell him all around you, the scent so strong that it could almost knock you out.

He returns to you, placing a shirt and some sweatpants on the counter. They’re many sizes bigger than your regular clothes, and if you had suddenly gotten a growth spurt and were taller than you already were, they still would be significantly loose on you.

His hands reach your hips, resting gently on them, and your eyes bulge at him. His hands are big, and his touch warm and soft. You feel like you’re going insane as he stares down at you. Your own hands are on your lap, fisted into tight balls while you try to hold back from throwing yourself onto the man holding your hips. You’re dying to touch him, but you do your best to control yourself.

“I’m gonna help you change, okay?” He says, and your shocked expression worries him, “Here, look, I’m gonna close my eyes the whole time.”

He shuts his eyes and keeps them closed just like he says. You giggle at how cute he is, how his smile appears once he hears your laughter.

“Let me help you, darling.”

Usually, you’d strongly refuse anyone’s offers to baby you like this. It’d make you feel like they thought you were helpless, when in reality you were the farthest from that.

But when Taehyung’s soothing, honey-like voice reaches your ears, you’re defenseless. You write off your nonsensical behavior as being drunk from the champagne, despite that being hours ago.

Without thinking, you find yourself raising your arms up again, and when Taehyung feels you move, he reaches to untuck your blouse so he can pull it above your head. You unbuckle your jeans and unzip them, and Taehyung pulls them down, leaving you in just a bra and underwear before him. Despite his eyes being shut tight, he does each action meticulously and accurately, careful to not hurt you in any way. He cautiously pats on the counter and eventually finds his folded clothes.

Taehyung grabs the shirt and puts it over your head. You push your arm through the sleeves, and the collar hangs low on your chest. You pull it up so you can cover your chest, letting the side of the collar on your back hang low instead. Taehyung then grabs the sweat pants and crouches down so you can stick your feet through the legs. He then gently tugs it upward and you lift your hips so he can bring the band up to your waist. He pulls the band away from your waist so as to not touch your skin and creep you out. The gesture is subtle, but one that you now hold deeply in your heart.

It’s silent, Taehyung’s brows furrowed as he concentrates on dressing you properly with his eyes closed. For a moment, you imagine that this is what it’d be like if you lived with him. You wish for nothing more than to have him close to you like this at all times.

When he’s done dressing you, he opens his eyes. He squints at you a little, readjusting to the lighting, and his bright smile appears yet again. Your legs feel like jelly and you find that it’s a good thing you’re sitting on the bathroom sink instead of standing up.

“Let’s brush our teeth, yeah?” He suggests, and you nod. He happily grabs a hotel toothbrush that’s still in its plastic package and he opens it up for you, “We’re lucky that they give two toothbrushes for each room, don’t you think, darling?”

“Yeah,” You finally speak, watching Taehyung reach for the toothpaste tube and squirting a dollop of it onto your toothbrush. He wets it under the sink and hands it to you. In response, you grab it and place it in your mouth, dazedly swiping the brush side to side against your teeth and then up and down right after. Taehyung puts toothpaste on his own toothbrush, mirroring your actions.

When the two of you finish—Taehyung helping you wash your face and washing off the foamy residue of the toothpaste that has dribbled down from your mouth to your chin—he guides you to the bed so that you can finally rest.

The bed sinks under your weight once more and Taehyung, now dressed in his own pajamas, joins you in the bed. He pinches your sides teasingly, making you squeal in response at the feeling. He chuckles, and you snuggle up to him, nuzzling your face in his chest.

You thank the champagne for giving you that notorious liquid courage that you’re experiencing right now.

He wraps his arms around you, running a hand through your hair. You sigh at his touch, immediately relaxing, and Taehyung is pleased when he sees the tension leave your body.

“Have you liked Paris so far, my dear?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, but you look up to speak to him anyways, your cheek still pressed up to his chest.

“Yes, it’s been… interesting.”

“That’s good to hear,” His words vibrate against your skin, reaching a baritone you hadn’t thought possible, “Your favorite thing about Paris?”

Something pushes you, compels you to actually take a risk.

“You.”

It falls from your lips in a shy, wavering tone. Taehyung freezes, his breath catching in his throat while you sit up so you’re face to face with him. Your eyes meet, and while both of you feel awkward, you don’t take the time to acknowledge it because soon your line of vision is trailing down to his lips. Taehyung does the same, his eyes pinpointed on your lips and focusing on how they’re slightly parted.

You’re not sure who leans in first, but someone does and suddenly your lips are on him and he’s kissing you back with just the same amount of fervor. His hand reaches your waist, massaging your skin, as he guides you to sit on his lap. He rests on the bed while you wrap your arms around his shoulders, his lips never leaving yours. You sigh into the kiss, allowing Taehyung to gently prod his tongue into your mouth, tasting the slight flavor of bubbly champagne mixed with mint toothpaste.

It’s overwhelming, is the first thing that comes to mind. It’s too much for you to take in. Too much for you to handle. Your body’s on fire as you try to control yourself. You’ve suddenly turned into a teenage boy, becoming highly affected at any sense of physical contact with another person. If you weren’t completely focused on kissing Taehyung, you’d almost laugh at yourself.

It’s addicting. He’s addicting. You know there’s an quick end in sight to this, but you pray it never happens. You want nothing more than to stay here with Taehyung, to forget about reality and just live in blissful ignorance with him. To just have his touch on your skin, to feel him around you.

But as expected, all good things must come to an end, and Taehyung pulls away, hesitant to delve deeper into what’s quickly developing. He watches your chest rise and fall like tides as you catch your breath, him mirroring your actions.

“I-I’m sorry…” He mumbles, “I shouldn’t-“

You grab his face with your hands, staring at him deeply. Taehyung’s words die in his throat as he shrivels under your gaze.

“It’s okay,” You respond, leaning in once more, but Taehyung stops you.

“No, we shouldn’t,” He sighs reluctantly, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not so much anymore, see?” You sputter out, pointing up your index finger and waving it around your face slowly so your eyes can follow it closely, “I’m fully aware of what’s going on.”

He chuckles, reaching out to hold your hands so he can fold them together. He rests them down on your lap.

“We’re still tired, Y/N,” He reasons, “We’re not thinking properly.”

“I’m not tired, are you?”

Your gazes are still fixed on each other, and Taehyung shakes his head instinctively.

“I’m not.”

Then, he realizes his actions and refutes his statement.

“No, Y/N,” He begins, guiding you off his lap, “We really, really shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

A tense, heavy silence falls upon the two of you. You hang onto every second, waiting for Taehyung to say something, anything, to you. Taehyung gulps, hesitant to speak. Eventually, he musters the courage to say something.

“You don’t deserve this.”

A feeling of dread seeps into your heart.

“What?”

“You don’t… You shouldn’t be put through this, and I’m sorry,” His eyes well up in tears, and the way his voice trembles terrifies you.

“Taehyung, what’s going on?”

Now it’s Taehyung spiraling.

“I never believed in… And then you just came in, and, I just, I don’t know… And her...” He stammers, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, I’m such a terrible person and I’m sorry.”

There’s only one word that sticks out to you. Her.

You feel your heart shatter like glass as you connect the dots, and you bite the inside of your cheek while you try to find the right words to say. You have every single right to be upset that he would do this to you, unspoken words telling you all that you need to know. You know you can be upset, you know that you should be upset.

But somehow you can’t.

You want to slap him so badly, to just yell at him and leave, á la soap opera style. But something holds you back, and the anger you feel quickly fades away, only leaving behind the sharp pain in your chest that you had desperately been trying to forget.

You don’t know what to do. The only thing you do know, however, is that morning was coming soon. And that you had no idea where you were right now. There was no way you could go back to your hotel room. Not in the disheveled state you were in.

“Let’s just sleep, yeah?” You turn your back to him, pulling the covers over your shoulder and curling up into a ball, “I’ll be gone before you know it.”

“Y/N…”

“Goodnight, Taehyung,” You whisper, a futile attempt to hide the heartbreak in your voice, “Thank you for everything.”

Taehyung opens his mouth to say something, hesitates, then closes it. You feel him shift in the bed, turning his back to you and creating as much space between the two of you as possible.

As you close your eyes, you bombard yourself with comforting thoughts.

Just one night, and you’ll be ok. Just a few hours and the sun would be up again. Just one night and your vacation will be over and you’ll be on a plane to Chicago before you know it. Just one plane flight and you’d be back home to Jungkook, who’ll most likely let you eat as much as ice cream as you need to. Just a few weeks and you’d be readjusted to Chicago’s time zone. You’d be back to work in no time.

You’re lulled into sleep almost immediately, as if your body was already preparing for your departure from Taehyung’s bedroom.

In just 6,690 miles, your problem would be gone.

EPILOGUE

The seemingly soft morning sunlight peers into the room, glossing over Taehyung’s skin and blinding him. All he sees is white, then a slow focus to the bed he’s in. Subconsciously, he reaches out to your side, a few low grumbles as he waits for his eyes to readjust to his surroundings.

He’s ripped from his sleep-ridden daze when his arm falls on the mattress with a quiet, yet loudly disappointing thud. Wrinkles appear as a result of the impact of his arm, replacing the ones that were formed by your body.

He rubs his eyes, assessing the damage of the scene. No longer are you there by his side, only leaving behind a faint, weak smell of your perfume. Taehyung grabs your pillow and holds it close to him, hoping to salvage what was left of your scent. He squeezes it, breathing slowing when he gets a more concentrated hit of your scent.

Taehyung tries his best to savor it, to savor what little he had left of you.

Of course he feels horrible, his dry throat and throbbing headache indicative of his terrible state. He knows he deserves this. He knows that all of this was his fault, that you never deserved any of the things he’s done to you. Taehyung knows you’re better off without him and that you should have a soulmate who’s exponentially better than he could ever be. You probably despise him, and for good reason.

Soulmates don’t do that to their soulmates.

And now you’re gone, no number, no note, nothing to remember you by, other than the scent of you on the pillow which was now leaving him too.

Taehyung tells himself that he shouldn’t feel bad. This wasn’t anything new. He’s known multiple people who have done something like this. His father’s done it. Why couldn’t he? He didn’t owe anyone anything, regardless of whether or not you were his soulmate. All it was is just a stupid tattoo. There was no emotional value to the ink on his skin. He shouldn’t feel bad. And he doesn’t. Not one bit.

But somehow, on instinct, Taehyung finds himself turning on his phone and going into his camera roll. He swipes through the countless photos of you he’s taken without you actually knowing. In his camera roll, he stares at your smile, stares at how you look at the world with so much happiness and pure wonder in your eyes. He admires how beautiful you are under the night lights of the Eiffel Tower— no, how beautiful you are every single time he sees you, day and night.

He treads further into his photos, a transition from the first night he met you to the time you were walking through the Louvre together. You never knew it, but Taehyung thought you were absolutely adorable when you admired the art. You examined everything so intensely, like the art was made of intricate hieroglyphs that you were determined to decipher. You would peer into the painting, look into the world the artist created, and try your best to see what the artist was saying.

Most of your interpretations were wrong or so vague that you could easily apply it to the painting in order to save face in front of Taehyung, and he knew that. Nonetheless, he thought it was so endearing, how you did your best to keep up with Taehyung’s knowledge of the arts. A shy, croaky chuckle falls from his lips when he thinks about how impressed you were by his knowledge that was stolen off the internet.

He can hear your giggles, your soft voice while you were trying to talk to him about something but you were too shy to. He can still feel the warmth of your body next to his, but it’s so faint. Too faint. It’s not enough for him.

And as if on cue, Taehyung swipes through all of the photos he has of you, his camera roll ending after his pictures of you at the Louvre. He curses himself for not asking for more pictures with you. If only he had asked that damned mine to take his phone too. If only he had given his phone number to you, so you could at least send them to him. Something more to remember you by.

Taehyung doesn’t like that he only has mere hints of you to himself, but it’s all he can have, so he cherishes each deeply with a sad, broken smile. He holds every single photo and memory close to his heart, a small comfort from the many troubles of his own world.

He feels a soft tingle on his skin. He looks on his wrist.

Excuse me sir, would you be able to take a picture of me?

The bold, black ink glares back at him. It yells at him. Asks him how he could be so stupid and asks him why he could do that to someone like you.

It’s only then, when his hand finds its way to his lips, when he can still feel your lips on his, that Taehyung realizes how terrible of a person he truly is. He can taste the champagne from last night, he remembers just how intoxicating you are, how much he loves the way your lips felt.

It’s nothing he’s ever experienced before.

Then, drawing him from his melancholic reverie, Taehyung’s phone rings.

He shoots a glare at the contact, and his tattoo shouts at him, skin burning as it tells him not to answer the call. Then he looks at the contact photo, and begrudgingly enough, his thumb presses the screen, answering the call. Taehyung brings the phone up to his ear, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat. His throat still feels excruciatingly dry and sore, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

“Tae?” The pet name reaches his ears, rings around so much that it hurts, “Are you there?”

He clears his throat, but his voice is still raspy and groggy.

“Uh, yeah…?” He sounds uncertain as he answers. Even though he can hear her voice, all he can think about is how you’ve called him by the same name before. All he wants is for you to call him that again.

“Oh, Tae! I’ve missed you,” He can hear the pout in her voice. Usually he’d think it’s cute, but he feels sick to his stomach, his food from last night crawling up his throat. “How come you haven’t been answering my calls?”

His breath catches in his throat, any excuse of a response dying down as he stares blankly at the ceiling. The white space stares back at him, presses down on him, and Taehyung furrows his brows at the ceiling, telling it that he already knows that he’s a terrible person.

“Taehyung? Are you there? Is everything-“

He ends the calls, tossing his phone somewhere on the bed and nuzzling his face into the pillow so he can calm himself down. He frowns when he finds that your scent is nowhere to be found. His heart breaks as he squeezes it closer to him, tighter in his arms, so he can try to get another hit. But he can’t. He can’t anymore.

A sharp, splitting pain appears in his head, piercing through his thoughts and making him shut his eyes so he can find some relief. But your scent is gone, and so are you. Taehyung realizes that now he can never find rest, but he tries his best to. It’s all he can do right now.

Being without you, even for only a few seconds, already feels like he’s going through withdrawals. He knew from the start, when you came up to him and asked him so cutely, that you were going to cause an issue for him. That you, unknowingly in all your splendor, were going to complicate what would’ve been his simple life.

But he ignored this. He pushed it off. Became indifferent to it.

Taehyung ignored it when you smiled at him. He ignored it when you would say something so clever and hilarious without even trying. He ignored it when he wrapped his arm around your waist, when he held him close to you. He couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted more and more. Wanted to just have you with him at all times, even if he knows how selfish of it is of him. How selfish it was for him to do all of that to you.

In the deafening, suffocating silence of his room, Taehyung believes that he was the worst person he’s ever met.

And despite not drinking an ounce of alcohol last night, Taehyung finds that this is the worst hangover he’s ever gone through.

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