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jungcity · 4 years

Text

love, eternal. | iv

genre: reincarnation!au, fallen angel!au

[supernatural-ish, angst, use of blunts and intoxicants, extra asshole jaehyun, smut, vulgar words]

pairing: jung jaehyun x reader

words: 9k

notes: it’s been really hard for me to write these past few days. i don’t know if i’m writing sense into this fic. but i do hope that you enjoy this chapter! please leave some feedbacks (bad or good is appreciated! :) ) it would really mean a lot to me! thank you so much! also, this chapter is unedited, so forgive the errors xx

part i | part ii | part iii | part v

“There is a halo in your mouth

and I like how it burns.”

— Sincerely, Joanna

You lay in bed awake, the kiss you shared with Jaehyun occupying almost all the space in your brain. Tugging on your hair, you forced yourself to sleep and not let yourself drown into the feeling— for the kiss still lingers on your lips, making your chest swell in unbelievable happiness.

The dinged of your phone pulled you out of your fantasy, you grabbed it from the nightstand and saw Soojin’s name displayed on the notification panel.

[Are u ok? R u home?]

You typed in your answer, squinting from the brightness of the screen.

[Yes. I’m home. U?]

But before you decided to keep your phone, Yuta’s caller ID flashed on the screen. A frown slid past your lips, then you slide the red button. You currently do not have the energy to deal with anyone. But you at least owe Soojin a message to let her know that you’re home safe.

You stare at the ceiling, the image of Jaehyun flashing into the white color above. Jaehyun’s lips tasted of tequila and mint— so soft against yours. Out of all the boys that you’ve kissed in your lifetime, the one you shared with Jaehyun stood amongst others. Yes, you’ve kissed boys when you were drunk or sober, but none of their kisses made you feel light yet heavy— like you were flying and drowning at the same time. It thrilled you to the bones. You subconsciously touched your lips just to feel it one last time, and just to prove yourself that it happened. Jaehyun kissed you, and you kissed him back.

The realization of how happy you were of the experience blows your mind, and that how the touch of his lips felt like a distant memory. The caress of his lips, so familiar you started to wonder if you’d ever kiss him before.

But that’s impossible, right?

Dreaming again? The voice inside you asked.

You stare at the queen size four poster bed. Roaming your eyes around the room, you saw a vanity resting at the corner in front of the gothic-styled windows, and a dresser probably bigger than the bathroom you have home is located on the side.

The thick red curtains drapes down, their edges touching the tiled floor. You spotted a vintage hand mirror on the nightstand, the glass reflecting that of a moonstone you wonder if it’s used to mirror things or just a mere display. Shrugging, you placed it back and sat on the bed.

Your butt slightly sunk into the soft mattress, allowing a soft gasp to escape your lips. The mattress was so inviting, you laid on the pillows, and the same happened to your head— it also sunk in the cushion. You could sleep forever if you wished to. For there was no one in the whole room but you.

A sudden tardiness hugged your body whole as you lay still, your mind blank from everything. Not even the kiss you shared with Jaehyun could make you think of something other than the comfort of the room. You wonder who could be the owner of such a classic and magnificent room. He or she must be sophisticated to have owned such grandiose space. Despite the somnolence, you compelled yourself to stand. The room felt suddenly eerie because of its vastness. You would’ve shivered if not for the sunlight that’s infiltrating it through the glass windows.

Roaming your eyes for the second time around, your vision caught sight of the small veranda attached to the room, making you realized that it must be located on the top floors of a house. You pulled yourself up, the cold tiled floor biting on your soles. Barefooted, you walked to the veranda, night dress swaying in every step.

Vast green fields greeted you as you pushed the door open. Tall trees standing here and there with thick foliages. There was one who bends on the veranda: making everything looked like a Romeo and Juliet’s scene.

There was an easel supporting a finished canvas. Paintbrushes and different oil pigments sat atop a table beside it. A separate table with teacups and spoons resides in the nearest corner with two chairs around it.

Everything seems like a fairytale. The whole place felt so removed from the loudness of the society. A dream you once had as a child; serenity, with only your canvas, paintbrushes and pigments beside you. Now here it is, and it felt so real, kindling an ember inside you it could start a fire. You inhaled.

You stepped closer to the canvas. The hues of it being illuminated by the sunlight made everything so marvelous. It was bright, it was alive, and it feels like your own.

“Fallen angel,” you breathed.

It was an angel, falling from the heavens. Wings splayed, like he forgot how to use them and blend with the wind. The artwork gave the impression of an unending fall. His eyes had that horror of being banished, yet when you look at the wholeness of his face, you saw the fury that lies within.

“It is indeed a fallen angel,”

You jumped and turned around to greet the voice. Heart hammering against your chest, you saw a pretty woman standing behind you. Hair black as the night, eyes as the blue of the skies— she’s the one you saw in your reflection in the mirror. How?

“I am Aurora,” She extended her hands. You looked at her outstretched hands before reluctantly taking it with your hands and shaking it. It was so soft. No callouses could be felt.

“I am… Y/N.”

Aurora smiled. You’ve never seen someone as beautiful except for Jaehyun. She looked like a goddess ready to bring peace in to the Earth. Her smooth steps enthralled you, every move of her feet towards the canvas is like a silent wave of the waters in the ocean.

“This is unfinished.”

Her voice. It could lull any crying children to sleep; so soft, so serene.

“Really? What could be missing?”

You both stare at it and you noticed that your dresses are similar to each other.

“A tear.” She smiled at you. “Will you do the honors of completing it for me?”

Even if you don’t understand a single thing, specially her favor, you nodded. What could possibly be the reason of her asking for you if she could paint it on her own? And as if she heard the voices in your mind, she turned to you.

“I… don’t have the ability to finish it anymore.”

There was sadness in her eyes which quickly reflected on you. Almost like you feel what she currently feels. So you grab the paintbrush and started to dip it on the pigments. With Aurora guiding you, she pointed where exactly to put the tear. You oblige and started painting it.

“It’s don…e.”

Where is Aurora? You searched for her with your keen eyes, but there wasn’t any trace to tell you where did she possibly go. The door is silent, a proof that no one pushed it. All that you could hear is the rustling of winds against the leaves.

You longed to touch the canvas, to feel the bumpiness of the paint against it. Hair’s breadth away, you suddenly curled your finger. It was so perfect that you’d feel ashamed to taint it with your hands, even though you touched it with brushes, it feels wrong to let your hand feel it. So you look and look at it until you drank all the details in, with a promise to recreate it once you wake up.

Three knocks, those were the sounds that woke you up out of slumber. You heard the muffled voice of your sister against the door that’s separating you from the life outside.

“There’s a delivery for you,” said she, voice a bit louder for you to hear. You told her you’re awake, and that you’d just compose yourself so she should entertain the delivery personnel for a minute.

Delivery? You rack your brain of anything, thinking of the last thing you purchased online. And that is a new drawer to keep your art materials in place.

With a creased brow, you swiftly tied your hair while still thinking of what could the delivery be. Then the realization slowly hit you, your eyes widened and you ran outside, abandoning your hair half tied into a bun.

“Good morning, miss.” The delivery boy greeted, a soft smile on his lips.

“G-good morning,” You stuttered, heart rumbling.

“We’re here to deliver the painting purchased by Mr. Jung. Is he around?” He was still smiling, eyes roaming around the living room, searching for a man who isn’t there.

You composed yourself by breathing in and out, silently wishing that Jaehyun has already handled the shipping fee.

“He’s not around. But can I… can I receive the parcel for him?” You asked, surprised that you’ve said the sentence without stuttering.

It would cause a lot of trouble if you tell them that you mistyped the address on the mail you sent their company, so it’s best that you accept the package instead of asking them to deliver it to Jaehyun’s house. And you’re certain Jaehyun would kill you one or another.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. But yes you can, Ma’am. Just show us your valid ID so we can tell Mr. Jung that one of his relatives accepted the parcel,”

You nodded at him and walked back to your room to gather your ID. He must’ve thought that Jung Jaehyun is living in this small apartment and that you’re one of his family members. The thought almost made you laugh and you scoff. Relative? I’m not even a friend, you mumbled.

You handed him the ID then he wrote your name on some paper and on the horizontal line at the end of a separate paper he’s laid on the table. He handed you the pen, then you wrote your signature above the name. He tipped his cap, walked back to the delivery vehicle and when he came back, he’s carrying an average sized parcel. By the looks of it, you bet the canvas is of the standard size. You guided him towards the sofa, where he laid the parcel carefully.

“Thank you,” You smiled, which he answered with the same gesture, tipping his cap again and bidding his goodbyes.

“What is that?” Yuqi asked, scrutinizing the parcel with a mug of hot chocolate on one hand. Sighing, you slumped in one of the sofas, covering your face with your hands.

“I’m seriously fucked up,” You told her.

“Why? What happened?”

“That is the parcel which was supposed to be delivered to Jung Jaehyun’s. Not here. I mistyped the address because of my agitation by Yuta’s arrival,”

“That jerk really couldn’t do anything right, could he?”

Yuqi was still a baby teen when she met Yuta, but her blood did not settle good in him. She warned you about her gut feelings towards him— that he’s bad news who’d shatter your heart in pieces. Guess what, in her young age, she was right.

“He even punched Jaehyun,”

“Wow! The audacity! Jaehyun could literally throttle him,” Yuqi stated, a scoff leaving her lips.

“Jaehyun did not fight back. Brawling with Yuta must’ve seemed so pathetic to him.”

“I guess so. Rich bachelors like him does not indulge themselves to useless—”

Your phone rang all the way to the room, making you jump in your seat and literally dive for it in your drawers. Jaehyun is calling. You gulped and pray before sliding the green button.

“The fuck is this, Y/N?! One job! You had one job! And you couldn’t even do it right!”

By his shouting, you pulled your phone away from your ear. You could see the veins in his forehead protrude in your mind, adding more to your anxiety.

“I’m—”

He breathed, “I don’t need your apology.” Then paused, “Deliver that here in thirty-minutes, or else…” He breathed again, and you swear your knees started to wobble. “You know what’d happen,”

Then he hang up. You hugged your phone to your chest, recollecting the sanity Jaehyun kicked out of your body. He couldn’t expect you to arrive in his penthouse in thirty-minutes when it’s literally one hour away from your house. But he’s Jung Jaehyun, and he always gets what he wants. It doesn’t matter how you get there, you just need to get there. Thirty-minutes, you dashed for the bathroom. Half an hour isn’t even enough to scrub your body clean. Dissatisfied from the five-minute bath, you rapidly put things in your bag and settled for a hoodie and pants.

Nice, twenty-minutes left. You didn’t even have any time to dry your hair, so you comb it on the way to the bus stop with the parcel tucked in your arms. It wasn’t as heavy as you’d expected it would be, but nonetheless, it was tiring to carry it all the way to the bus stop. Luckily, there’s already a bus waiting when you get there. You climbed on to the vehicle and made yourself comfortable by listening to some music.

It’s impossible to reach his place in less than twenty-minutes. So you disregard his death threats and think about something else. And that something else is the kiss you shared. Your heart suddenly made a jump, realizing that you’re going to Jaehyun’s house. The awkwardness settled in your bones, and the fact that you’ve never been there made you wary. You have no idea what to expect; a model walking out of his house?

Jaehyun doesn’t seem really interested in the opposite sex, but then he kissed you, ravenously. You blushed at the memory of him trying to suck the breath out of you.

The hotel where his penthouse is located loomed over you. You gasped while trying to see the peak of it, so high it made your nape hurt a little. And you frowned by the realization that you need to carry the parcel all the way to the top where his penthouse is located. Blowing out air from your mouth, you walked inside the hotel.

You stare at the canvas resting beside you while you stand in the elevator, wondering what kind of art it is. You’ve never taken Jaehyun to be fond of the arts, but here he is, proving your impressions wrong again. Coincidentally, you’ve also dreamed about a painting. Its memory already printed in your mind that your finger itch to start drawing it.

You stepped outside once the elevator door dinged, carrying the parcel in your hand. There was a single door at the end of the hallway. You have no idea how to tell Jaehyun that you’re already outside, and you don’t want to risk pushing the buttons and scanners in his door, so you sent him a text message instead, hoping that he wasn’t too busy to glance at it.

The door opened, but there was no one who greeted you. Automatic doors? Can’t relate, you whispered to yourself. You pushed the door wider, peeking your head on to the space. The whole house is as silent as a mausoleum. One word to describe the interiors? Magnificent. An expensive looking bachelor pad for a bachelor such as Jung Jaehyun. Everything in sight seems so modernized yet minimal. The hues of the furnitures blends in well with the color of the floor and walls. The ceiling is also high, and of course, a floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

You stepped your foot inside, expecting Jaehyun to appear in the corner to throttle you of your incompetence. Shaking the bad thoughts away, you completely entered the penthouse.

“Sir?” You called against the emptiness of it.

“Jaehyun! Faster!”

Chills ran down your whole body as you heard something erotic. It isn’t what you think it is, right? But the scattered clothes splayed on the sofas and floors told you that it is indeed what you think it is. Another grunt echoed of the whole floor, then a scream followed it. You couldn’t move your body. Maybe you wanted to run, or you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Because, Jesus Christ, you couldn’t stand and watch a live porn!

The moans and the grunts halted. And you still stood there, palms sweating with your forehead despite the ventilations.

“You’re here,”

“Holy mother of rectangles!” You jumped, your hand flying to your chest.

“I said thirty minutes,” Jung Jaehyun stated while leaning on the door frame with a glass of liquor in hand. He’s wearing a thin white long-sleeves, its fabric clinging on to his sweat beaded body, accentuating his chest and muscles. You thank God that he’s wearing pajamas, because let’s be honest, you’re not ready to see a limp dick today. God really do have mercy.

A girl slid her hands around Jaehyun’s chest. Despite her bedraggled hair, she is much fully clothed— maybe the clothes on the floors all belongs to Jaehyun. But you’re sure you’ve seen a female underwear— so the girl is not wearing her panties inside that body-fitted dress? You gulped down the thoughts. People could be really wild sometimes.

Wet, sloppy kisses filled the whole floor. You could only assume that the girl was giving open-mouthed kisses to Jaehyun’s back.

“Until next time baby,” She cooed, grabbing his crotch— grabbing his crotch?!— in front of you. She made it seem like there’s nobody standing there with them. You wanted to gag, but there was something in Jaehyun’s eyes as he looked at you while the girl literally shoved her hand inside his pajamas, doing God-knows-what with his penis.

The intensity of his stare suddenly makes it harder for you to breath. You felt something in your stomach uncurl as Jaehyun’s mouth slightly parted by the pleasure he’s currently feeling. Run, damn it. But your body felt leaden and you couldn’t move your feet. As much as you wanted to deny it, Jaehyun’s pleasured face made you feel hot all over. To your face down and in between your legs.

If the girl doesn’t stop giving Jaehyun a handjob, and if Jaehyun, himself, wouldn’t stop staring at you with that gaze, your knees would absolutely collapse any time soon. And as if Jaehyun saw your predicament, he pushed the girl away.

“See you soon,” Jaehyun muttered. Then the girl leaned forward, giving his neck a sloppy kiss.

You tucked the strands of you hair behind your ear, suddenly embarrassed of letting yourself watch the little scene that unfolded before you. The sound of heels echoed everywhere when the girl walked past, completely ignoring your whole existence. Like you didn’t just see her give your boss a handjob.

Jaehyun walked towards you while drinking the liquor in one go. Eyebrow already raised as he stood face to face with you. You didn’t meet his gaze, for the fear that he might see how flustered you were right now. And you didn’t want to give him any satisfaction of knowing that you were affected of his little foreplay exhibit.

You cleared your throat then offered him the parcel, “Here.”

He pointed the sofa with his lips. You have no other choice but to oblige. Heaviness tried to pull on your feet as you walked to the sofa, your nerves still in a frenzy as you lay the parcel above the cushion.

Jaehyun was still standing behind you, watching you like a prey he’s not sure whether to kill or to let go. Either way, you forced your feet to move, and walked past him. You have no more business to do for him, and you badly wanted to go home. The scene the two of them made in front of you is enough to knock your consciousness and put you in a coma. And maybe you’d need a dextrose full of holy water to cleanse your body.

He stopped you by holding your arm, “Where are you going?”

You deadpanned, “Home.”

“The kitchen is there. Make me something to eat,” He pointed with his finger, with the hand still holding the empty glass.

You stared at him, not believing his words. He didn’t just order you to make him food when he literally made some random girl give him a handjob while you’re watching, right? What kind of drug is he inhaling? You badly want to try some. Just to become as detached as him.

“It’s Sunday, Jaehyun.” You reminded him, dropping all the professionalism to make him remember that he couldn’t boss you around outside of work. And that he should probably head inside a church and cleanse his soul of anything ungodly lurking within. But of course, you didn’t say that.

“Don’t make me repeat it again.” He warned, then walked back to his room, leaving you irritated. To do what, you have no idea— maybe he’ll jer— okay, calm down Y/N.

There’s no point making sense with Jung Jaehyun. The man thinks he owns everything and everyone around him. He’s standing on a pedestal higher than your own height. You know you can’t argue with people like that. So you trekked the direction Jaehyun motioned earlier, and then you found the kitchen. It’s a U-shaped kitchen with an island on the center. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the tall buildings outside.

You placed your bag above the island, then you sauntered up to the two-door refrigerator. Of course, even his refrigerator screams ‘rich’, full of goods you bet he doesn’t even try to cook nor eat. You grabbed something that is easy to cook— eggs. Maybe you’ll make a soufflé egg, or a pancake— or maybe a meal that he could eat until dinner. Then you shook your head and reminded yourself not to be frustrated over what he wants. He’s a grown ass man, he could take care of himself.

Yes, he’s a grown ass man who could definitely take care of himself. But here you are, cooking soy garlic chicken for him. Jaehyun was still nowhere to be found, giving your head at least the peacefulness it deserves.

You pondered about what happened earlier. A girl moaning inside his room, then that girl giving him a handjob in front of you. The realization of him kissing another girl after he kissed you hit home. It shouldn’t even hurt you, but it did. Does he badly wants to rub your kiss off his lips? Of course it was a mistake, you know that. But it didn’t feel wrong to you.

What is wrong with me?

You calmed yourself by drinking a glass of cold water, forcing to forget everything like how you forced to swallow the cold liquid. But you know that’s impossible. You couldn’t just forget a kiss like that.

To keep your mind off things, you decided to make a coffee for Jaehyun. The chicken is all ready, but he still locked up on his room. He should really give you a large bonus for your effort of dressing his breakfast plate. You laid all the food in the dining table: soufflé eggs, vegetable salad, hotdogs, soy garlic chicken, rice, and his coffee.

Jaehyun showed up the same moment you gathered your bag to go. He’s wearing fresh clothes on: black shirt with a new and clean sweatpants, hair still wet and his face looking refreshed. Obvious that he just got out of shower. You stopped yourself from asking what could be his skincare routine when you remembered that rich people like him doesn’t need one.

He eyed the foods laid on his dinner table, you’re sure it’s his first time seeing that many dishes for his breakfast. Did you overdo it? The sudden thought of making an effort for him made you blush. You’ve never cooked food for someone other than your mother and Yuqi before. The reality of doing it for the first time for someone— let alone a man— flustered you.

“I left some of the chicken in the oven, you can heat it up later for dinner. Eat well.” You started to walked away, but he grabbed you again when you trudge past him.

You inhaled, closing your eyes. What is it again? Somehow, being this close to him made you feel lightheaded. Because of what? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. The mere touch of his fingers could send electric bolts in your whole body and you didn’t like the way he makes you nervous just by being near.

“What more do you want, Jaehyun?” You snapped.

He doesn’t let go of your hand when he said, “Aside from sipping a nice and warm coffee, maybe I want you to bend over this very table so I can fuck you raw,”

Jesus Christ. The next thing you heard was a loud slap of skin to skin. You stare at him, dumbfounded with a stinging palm. His cheeks turned ruddy by the contact.

His head was still in a sideway position when he smirked. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, so loud and so frantic you thought you’d go deaf.

“Do you… do you really want a lawsuit filed against you, Jaehyun?” Surprisingly, your voice box is still working on your throat.

If Jaehyun could laugh because of your statement, he would. But he only stared at you as if you’re the whole circus.

“I’d like to see you try, chérie.”

The caress of his voice made your skin prickle. You dared stare at his eyes, into those dark orbs no one could ever read. Hatred that no one could quenched stared back at you, with the intensity of the storm that lies within fueling it. Convoluted as it was, the hatred isn’t meant for you. It’s more like a tattoo, permanent in his eyes. But hatred isn’t the only thing that was reflected in those eyes— there was something else: desire. You shivered. In defiance of the hate that’s showing vehemently on his irises, you couldn’t deny that Jaehyun’s beauty is not of this world. With his face looking ethereal like that, he could be a deity.

“I’m… going.” You gulped down saliva, trying to salve your thundering heart. He did not say anything, not a word when you turned your back on him and walked away.

But you could swear you felt him looking at your retreating back all the way to the door.

—

Jaehyun stared at the foods lay before him on the table. Unable to process why did you cook so many. He palmed his cheek before sitting, feeling like a thousand ant is crawling on his skin, the others biting. It was well-deserved though, for being so callous of his words. Yet the words that came out of his mouth was not a joke, just ended up lecherous. And the emotion on your face while you watch Mina giving him a handjob flashed in his mind without warning.

There and there, in your spot, with your innocent doe eyes trying not to run from the scene made something in him twitch. But your expression was so priceless— forcing yourself to not give up any emotion as you watch them. It made him feel hotter, hornier even. That if he could pushed Mina away and grabbed you just to kiss you as he did in your living room yesterday night, he would. Yet a force inside him locked him in place, reminding him that the kiss you shared was nothing but the result of his impulsive ass.

He tried to erase it, you know. He tried to erase your soft lips— tasting of everything sweet against the cruelty etched in his— but he couldn’t. The way you kissed him back made him mad— mad at himself for enjoying it, mad at his heart for feeling something familiar. A familiarity he buried together with Aurora.

He tried to shake it off by grabbing the hips of the unfamiliar girl underneath him, sure it’s going to leave bruises. Her fake squealing and moaning filled the whole house, but it didn’t even reach the emptiness inside him. So unlike the brief kiss you shared that sparked the fire long smoldered in his system.

He fucked her ‘til you arrived, just to let you know that what you shared was wrong. Not because he didn’t want it— heck, if he could claim you here and there, he would— but because he couldn’t taint another human being with the evil inside him. And he couldn’t afford to go down the path of trying to be good, just to be reminded that he’s not. And never will be.

What he felt for you, he couldn’t quite understand. When he sees you, he feels excited— alive even. And he’s certain Aurora would’ve cried of happiness if she knew he’s feeling something towards another girl again, after so many fucking years. After all, it was her wish before she blew out her last breath. For him to never forget love, instead cherish it. Hold on to it. Because it was salvation, she said. Yet Jaehyun couldn’t still believe it, if it was salvation, why does it feel punishment? Because it is a punishment, you fool, he whispered to himself.

He thanked his phone ringing of saving him into his thoughts. The name Johnny Seo displayed in the screen. He slide the green button, turning it on speakers.

“Bastard,”

“Puppy,” He reared back. Johnny is an alpha, and calling him puppy always raged him. Which is why Jaehyun branded him the name, to piss him off.

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” The wolf retaliated. Jaehyun nodded, taking a bite of his food.

“Anyways, you do know that my birthday is in four days, right? Or you don’t?”

Jaehyun could even see Johnny’s brow rising.

“I don’t. Birthdays are dramatic,” He prattled.

“Yes, because you don’t have one dickhead.” Johnny laughed.

If Jaehyun was an emotional wreck of an angel, he would’ve been hurt. But it’s the truth. He doesn’t celebrate birthdays because he doesn’t have one. He came into this world without going through the process of a mother’s pregnancy. But Johnny, and his whole pack of wolf has, being that they were all human once. Chaelin is the only one who shares the same struggle as him.

When Jaehyun didn’t bother to say anything, Johnny continued his sentence. “I’m celebrating it here, of course, in London.”

So the bastard is in London, Jaehyun whispered in his mind.

“You better go or else I’m pulling out my share in your company.” Johnny threatened. He would’ve laugh. Jaehyun is richer than all of Johnny and his pack of wolf’s riches combined. But he’s already planning to go to London for business, and he thought seeing how his comrades are faring with life every now and then isn’t a bad idea.

“I’m coming,”

“Come in my stomach then,” Johnny laughed.

It took Jaehyun a second to realize the joke. “Damn you, Seo.”

Johnny continued to laugh. Jaehyun attempted to pressed the red button when Johnny said something that perked his ear.

“Bring Y/N. Everyone will go. Including Taeyong’s clan and Doyoung’s group of warlocks.” — He said your name like you’re a friend— “Say I’m inviting her. I’ll handle her ticket, I know it’d hurt your ego to handle a pretty lady’s fare.”

“Shut the fuck up Seo, she’s not coming with me.” Jaehyun stated in a clipped tone. The thought of you meeting Johnny’s pack and Taeyong’s clan made his temper boil. At least you’re safe with Doyoung and the other warlocks if ever.

“Shall I call her myself then? She does not need to fly with you. She could arrive first, your choice.”

Jaehyun knows Johnny has his ways to contact you despite not knowing your number. And he couldn’t think straight of the possibility of you flying alone to London. Without him by your side.

“No, she’s my secretary. It’s just right that she flies with me.”

“You’re one hell of a complicated douchebag, Jung J—”

Jaehyun pressed the red button, not letting Johnny finish his sentence. Then he continued to eat, the thought of you going to London with him making him zestful than usual.

Then he remembered the forgotten canvas lying on his sofa. He stood up immediately and dashed to the living room only to slow down when he’s near. Heart thudding against his chest, a reminder that Aurora still have a part of him wrapped around her fingers.

He sat and stare at the parcel for a whole five-minutes. Readying himself to see the canvas inside that he knows too well— like the back of his hand. He grabbed it and slowly tear the thick carton wrapped in it.

Every inch of color sending bolts in his body. The familiar feeling of the canvas in his palms taking the breath out of him. He continued to tear the carton until nothing is left wrapped up around the art.

There it is. Aurora’s painting. In his hands. After so many years, he finally found the courage to stare at it. And the feeling is overwhelming. It’s overwhelming to see his own self, painted in the canvas made by the girl he loved more than life itself.

Of course Aurora knew.

Of course she knew that he was The Fallen.

And she never once judged him. Unlike all the people in the world, Aurora never turned her back on him despite knowing the truth.

That’s why his world crumbled for the second time when she died,— the only person who understood that Lucifer, himself, also needed love— slipping away from his fingers.

The art was wonderfully preserved, with only little to no dents. The pigments weren’t as bright as he remembers, but it’s the art of Aurora nonetheless.

His wings, the glowing of it intelligently captured by her. It made his lips slightly bend into a smile. But it quickly receded when he noticed something on the face. A detail he doesn’t remember noticing when he first saw the canvas one hundred years ago. A… tear?

It was so small, but it’s surely not a dent. For when he looked at it, the pigment stared right back at him.

—

You feel like shit when you came back home. It felt like you trekked a whole mountain from the unrest that you feel inside. Your bones feel heavy, your eyes too. And you blame Jaehyun and that girl for it. Her face, and her lips pressed into Jaehyun’s skin made you unexpectedly irritated. The mere thought of her sleeping on his bed made everything worse than it is.

Sure, she’s maybe a supermodel, or an actress, or an influential person and you’re just a secretary barely hanging on to life— but you could feel that the bond you have with Jaehyun is more meaningful than what they possibly have. Hearing yourself prattle about your vexation towards the girl and your boss, you tugged on your hair. You’re saying nonsense, Y/N. Of course, you and Jaehyun do not have any ‘bond’ to begin with and—

“Are you okay?” Yuqi looked up from her notes to you.

At her words, you realized that you’re already standing in the living room.

“Of-of course,” You blinked.

Yuqi shook her head, “Yes, Jaehyun and you do not have any bond. What else?” She teased.

Oh, so you said the words aloud. Your cheeks heated by Yuqi’s teasing. She’s just caught you thinking about your boss, and heard you blathering nonsense in the air.

Frustrated by everything, you decided to just paint something. The canvas from your dream begging to be recreated. You changed your clothes and readied your materials. Luckily, there’s a remaining canvas resting at the corner of your room, slightly smaller than the one in your dream but that could do.

You tied your hair in a messy bun before securing your canvas on to the easel, placing it facing the only window you have in your room. Light filters through, but not hot enough to make you wince. The weather is perfect with the sun hiding in the thick clouds.

Making yourself comfortable on the stool, you grabbed the canvas again. Hugging it onto the crook of your arm and tracing lines here and there to make the shape of the falling angel. The passion burning in your fingers prevented you from taking a rest, albeit your neck is starting to freeze and cramp.

Craning your neck left to right, you stare at the sketch. You couldn’t proclaim that it’s the same as your dream for the lack of colors it has, so you started to mixed oil pigments, with the hues of the painting from your dreams being your guide. You mixed blues for the skies, whites for the angel’s silk robe wrapped in his waist, blacks, reds, and oranges for the smoldering wings. But the one color you’ve had a hard time figuring out is the iridescence coating his wings. You needed your phone to search how to mix colors that’d look gleaming against the canvas. In the midst of your search, you’ve found out knowledge beyond what you expected.

Lucifer was God’s favorite angel. You could see it in his wings— for it glows unlike any other angels.

So, the painting must be an interpretation of Lucifer? You wondered.

Shiver like no other covered your body, the divine knowledge sipping in your mind. Because of that, you became more eager to finish the canvas. After mixing a lot of pigments and trying it to different papers, you’ve finally succeeded in making a glowing color. You laid the small jar on your study table, careful not to spill a drop, and continued to paint all around the sketch.

Yuqi called for you to dinner, the only time you allowed yourself to rest. You straightened your back and massaged your palms, numb from all the drawings and paintings you did. Before departing your room, you stare at the canvas. It’s not even halfway through, so you couldn’t make out the result in your head yet. You supposed you can continue painting it once you have the time, since it’s obvious that you wouldn’t be able to finish it today despite wanting to.

“What’s that you’re working on? Commission?” Yuqi asked as she swallowed a spoonful of ramen soup.

“Nope. Just… had an idea.”

Still, you remained quiet about your dreams. Not that anyone could understand them. You couldn’t decipher them yourself. And you know it’s best to keep them a secret for now.

Your phone lit up in the corner of the table, a text had just arrived. While munching on your food, you slid it open.

[We’re heading to London in three days. Send me your infos. Got it covered. Don’t ask too much questions.]

You forcefully swallowed your food, not wanting your mouth to spit it. Throat tightening, you drank a glass of water.

“What is it?” Yuqi asked, patting your back and peeking on the screen. “London?!” She exclaimed upon reading the message. You could only nod.

Jaehyun told you to book him a flight to London. It never occurred to you that he needed you to accompany him. The thought of flying to London with him gave you the good kind of goosebumps. But you didn’t allow your emotions to get the best of you. You typed in a reply.

[Okay, Sir. E-mailing it to you now.] But you really wanted to type in all-caps and make sure that you’re really coming with him.

You’re not certain you could get enough sleep tonight.

—

Days went on in a blur, and now you find yourself seated across Jaehyun in a first class plane. You decided not to move much, for you don’t have any idea how should you act around. Jaehyun does not spare you any glance at all. He’s reading a book for an hour now, completely ignoring your presence.

But before you got on the plane, he told you the real reason of bringing you with him after days of not telling you. Johnny’s birthday is tomorrow, and he invited you. The mere thought of him remembering you as you are and not as Jaehyun’s secretary warmed your heart. Unfortunately, you couldn’t buy an expensive watch or necktie for him so you sticked to what you do best— drawing. You drew him for days, leaving the other canvas you’re working on in the corner of your room. You could only hope that Johnny would like the gift.

Many things agitated you the whole hours that you’re sitting or leaning on your seat. Like, what would you wear? It’s not like you could wear your uniform in there. And you have no money to buy a dress. The money you have in your wallet is only enough to buy you, Yuqi, and Soojin souvenirs. As for Yuta, after days of trying to contact you and bombarding your phone with text messages, he finally gave up. You still haven’t had the guts to talk to him about his and Jaehyun’s brawl. Jaehyun never opened the conversation to you, too.

There’s many things that he does not try to address to you; the kiss, the little scene he made on his own house, and his comment about your soy garlic chicken. Yes, you bloody want him to say at least something about the food you prepared. But days had passed, no words came out of his mouth. He’s back to being the most cold-hearted man yet again.

You shifted on your seat, trying to rest your eyes. Jaehyun said there’s still three hours remaining before you land— the only thing he’s said to you. Clearing your mind off your thoughts, you close your eyes. This time, there’s no dream that accompanied the void in you.

You felt a nudge in your arm, Jaehyun’s voice looming around you, waking you up. The sting in your eyes hit the moment you opened them, squinting against the light around you. You noticed a small blanket wrapped around you, not remembering the moment you wrapped yourself in it.

“That… is the attendant’s doing.” Jaehyun pointed out, staring at you. And honestly? He didn’t need to do that. You know his personality too well to even assume that he’s the one who did it.

“We’re landing in five minutes,”

—

You arrived in Ridgemount Hotel after a hectic ride on a limo rented by Jaehyun, himself. Hectic because none of you uttered a word, your mouth has gone dry and jetlag kicked it the moment you stepped inside. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read something for the pulsating ache in your head.

Jaehyun’s hotel room is located across from you. Of course, he would prefer to spend a lot of money that to be wise and stay with you to the same room. Not that it matters to you, anyway. You’re definitely alright being your own specie in your room.

You have no idea how long did you sleep the jetlag away. There were no messages from Jaehyun when you opened your phone. You guessed he’s also getting some rest for the party tomorrow now that will be celebrated at Guildhall. The moment Jaehyun told you the venue, your eyes almost fell from its sockets. You only see Guildhall when you browse the web for medieval halls in London, and now you’ll get there tomorrow evening. The excitement is unbearable. You could literally jump from happiness. But a loud knock on the door stopped you from flinging yourself on the soft mattress.

“Hi!”

“Ms. Chaelin?”

The woman is smiling at you, wearing a white cardigan with a large belt wrapped around her waist. What is she doing here?

“Come in!” You said, letting her precede you to the door.

“Oh, your room is so cozy.”

She scanned the room with interest before sitting on the bed and looking at you.

“You’re probably wondering why I am here bothering your beauty rest,” She laughed. “But I’m just wondering if we could, you know, have some fun before Johnny’s birthday.”

“I— I’m afraid I don’t have…” Your voice faded, the sudden embarrassment coating you. But Chaelin only smiled at you, her face gave up the notion of telling you not to worry about a penny.

“Don’t worry about it! Everything is on me.”

“I can’t possibly accept that, Miss.”

“Just call me Chaelin. Please let me treat you. I wanna make up to the last time we’ve met. I know it wasn’t pleasant.” She wheedled.

She’s talking about your first week at Jung’s Fiscals. You waved your hands to tell her not to worry about it.

“It’s okay… you don’t need to. If there’s a person who should be doing that, it’s Jaehyun.” You told her.

“Yes! That’s right. Jaehyun told me— oh, nevermind. Do you have anything to wear?”

Jaehyun told her what? You shrugged off the curiosity. By her question, you slowly shake your head. That’s a problem you’ve been pondering on for hours now.

“Then all the reason for me to treat you!” Chaelin wrapped her arms around yours, not giving you any chance to argue.

You changed into comfortable clothes, fit for hours of shopping you assumed would take place. Chaelin waited for you, scrolling through her phone the whole time. According to her, all of Johnny’s friends will attend the anticipated party of the year. Not to jump into prejudice, you assumed Johnny is the kind of guy who throws absolutely crazy parties by the way Chaelin anticipates the event.

Knowing about the attendance of Johnny’s friends is the sole reason why you’re trudging the shiny floors and garish interior of a famous boutique near the hotel you’re staying in. You sent a simple message to Jaehyun, informing him that you went outside with Chaelin. As usual, he did not bother to reply.

You and Chaelin had fun. She literally made you her own personal doll, pulling you in and out of boutiques to dig every clothes there is that would fit you. You let her do her fairy-godmother work, being that you are lacking knowledge when it comes to the matter of class and magnificence. And you trust her taste enough to let her on her mission of finding the best dress for you.

Every now and then, she tells you about her friendship with Jaehyun. Not that you ask, but it made you curious nonetheless. According to her, they’ve been friends for a really long time now. It made you think that maybe they’d met in their elementary school. But Chaelin did not give you any specific date of their first meeting.

The day went on, and now you find yourself staring at the dress and stiletto Chaelin bought you. A promise to pay her was answered with a scrunch of her nose, telling you not to worry about the money and that she gave you the things wholeheartedly, not expecting any payment. It didn’t make you feel comfortable, but at least you relaxed by the assurance of wearing something decent tomorrow.

The door suddenly clicked open, and you jumped by seeing Jaehyun. He stares at you for a minute, obviously wanted to say something, but he rubbed his nape and closed the door again.

What was that?

You shrugged but after a second, the door opened again, revealing your boss with his back straightened, ready to give orders.

“Eat with me,”

Jaehyun did not wait for you to answer, giving you no chance to change your clothes. You supposed your current attire was enough, so you trudge outside and followed him to the hotel’s hall.

He sat, food in his plate. You followed after mere minutes of filling yours with delicacies you don’t know the name and haven’t tasted yet in your whole life. Jaehyun said nothing, just silently bite and munch his food. This is your first time eating with him, and you noticed that he’s feminine when he eats. There’s nothing wrong about it though, you just found the way he dabs the napkin on his mouth and the way he munches food so quietly, fascinating.

A glut of silence enwrapped the air around you. It could literally suffocate you, so with all your might, you tried to talk to him.

“Why did you let me come with you?” You have no idea why did you ask such questions, but Jaehyun only looked at you as if he’s had any choice.

“Johnny requested,” His curt answer.

“Johnny’s birthday must be so special. You even took your time to celebrate it with him.” When he does not answer, you continued your talking, “How about you? When’s your birthday?”

By your question, Jaehyun dropped his fork on his plate, creating a loud clatter to make the other hotel guests turn on the both of you. But he quickly regained his composure, giving a curt nod to everyone as a way of excuse.

“I don’t— it’s next month. 14th.” His laconic response.

“Okay…” You said, wary of his sudden lack of control.

“Excuse me,” He said, pushing his chair with the back of his knees. You nodded at him. But even after finishing your meal, Jaehyun did not go back to finish his.

You went back on your room calculating if you’d said something to irk Jaehyun. He wasn’t exactly annoyed, just taken aback? Nevertheless, you’ve gathered one information about him, and that’s his birthday. You no longer want to vex yourself by his constant berating, you thought knowing something about him would help pave the way of your bond.

While thinking about what could you give Jaehyun on his birthday, you wrapped the canvas you’d give Johnny tomorrow. After ten-minutes of cutting and ribbon-tying, you changed into new clothes and slept, a smile creeping up your face as you think about the event tomorrow.

—

Spectacular is an understatement to describe the Guildhall. Its chandelier hang high in the ceilings, with curtains draping down around them and with lights illuminating their color against the columns standing as posts of the whole hall.

Tables are decorated with a sophisticated yet manly touch. You assumed Johnny requested for a medieval touch to adorn the venue, which the organizers did an absolutely amazing job on. You feel like you were back the past. The period movies you’ve seen and books you’ve read all coming back to you— every scene and every word you thought won’t come to life is here, in front of you. The overwhelming happiness sits on your stomach, waiting to be unleashed.

“Y/N!” Chaelin waved, then she walked towards you with a wine glass in one hand. Jaehyun excused himself the moment Chaelin arrived beside you. He walked towards a pool of boys gathering around Johnny. Someone clapped his back, a man his age. But the younger ones nodded at him, reverence clear in their faces.

“You look stunning, Chaelin.” You greeted. The woman is wearing a velvet dress, hugging her curves, with a fur scarf wrapped around her arms.

“No, you look magnificent, love!” She cheered, pulling your hand and swirling you playfully, both your laughs joining together.

You’re wearing a tulle long dress, a mixture of champagne and blue fabrics adorning it. The stiletto you wear goes with the same hue as the dress. To be honest, you felt slightly out of place when you arrived, for the people around you wears monotone colors only. And you obviously stand out. But now Chaelin is here, you felt the pressure being lifted off of you.

The event started when Johnny went on to the platform, thanking each and everyone of the guess for joining him on his day. The bellows and laughters of his friends stood out among the crowd, their cheers slightly distracting Johnny. Your eyes automatically searched for Jaehyun, despite not screaming with the other boys, he has an unusual and once in a lifetime smile on his lips which made him more handsome that he already is.

He wears a simple black tuxedo, with his hair neatly parted and brushed up, a cowlick straying on his forehead. The color of his suit accentuated his pale features, making him ethereal in your eyes once again. He shifted, and met your eyes in the crowd.

His beauty locked you in your place with a heart thudding as you continued staring at him. He lifted his glass with a curt nod, a silent sign for you to enjoy the night. The small gesture made your heart swell in happiness even more, so you smiled at him. And he smiled back.

The evening moved on. You remained in your location, Chaelin giving you company. Johnny’s still walking around the venue, greeting acquaintances. And Jaehyun, he’s still talking with his friends.

“Aren’t you friends with them?” You suddenly asked Chaelin. She whirled at you before taking a sip of her drinks. Then she looked at the men surrounding Jaehyun in a sideway glance.

“Oh yes. Been friends with them for a really long time now. I’ve seen some of them grow up into the man they are today.” There was passion and love in her voice that you didn’t expect to hear. “That boy is Jeno,” She pointed at a boy with the warmest eyesmile, “We’re probably the closest, aside from Jaehyun. I adore that pup, quiet but knows when to enjoy.” She has that certain smile with her now, her eyes twinkling. Then she pulled you towards the boys suddenly.

“Let’s meet them!” She cheered. Although you were nervous in every step that you took, you let her sway you towards the men. Jaehyun met your eyes the moment you stood in front of them.

“Who’s this pretty lady?” A tall guy emerged from nowhere, bright smile directed at you. He was nudged by a smaller man.

“Jaehyun’s date,”— then he whirled towards you, offering his hands for a handshake— “I’m Ten.” You took his hand, expecting for a handshake, but instead he kissed it. Loud cheers emerged from the group, making you blush.

All of them shook your hands then, and you noticed they were glancing at Jaehyun as they did so, like they’re waiting for his permission.

“You must be Y/N?” The guy with a red hair emerged from nowhere. You slightly jump from his appearance; red hair, pale features, and his eyes, there’s a little red in his irises. Jesus Christ, he was beautiful.

“I’m Taeyong,” He offered his hand, then you shook it, still mesmerized by his exquisiteness. Taeyong, then, started to entertain you with his stories, never leaving your side until people started to slow dance in the middle of the hall. He excused himself then walked towards a pretty woman. You watched as almost everyone danced. Chaelin was with a boy you remembered named Doyoung. Seeing everyone enjoying themselves, it felt lonely suddenly. Out of place, even.

Then for the third time that night, Jaehyun met your eyes across the room. He’s got a wine glass in his hand while looking at you. Then seconds later, he drank all the contents, leaving the glass to the care of the waitress. Jaehyun walked towards you, every step making your heart beat louder, faster. He walked the earth like he’s a king. His mere steps could make the world stop on its spinning.

Then he’s standing before you, offering you his hand.

“Are you gonna dance with me or…?” He asked, the baritone of his voice sending you shivers. You locked eyes with him then took his hand. His eyes, never leaving yours too.

The slow music lulls the whole place with its softness. Jaehyun held your hip in one hand, and your hand in the other. Your heart maybe thundering, but deep in it, you know you’re in the safe place. You’ve never felt like this your whole life— like you’re becoming something other than the girl you are. There’s an ember inside you as you looked at Jaehyun’s eyes. A small fire waiting to be ignited. His familiar scent whiffed your nose as he spins you away and towards him. The familiarity of his face is staggering, yet you blame your dreams for it.

Your faces were too close, so close in the edge of the music. One push, and you’ll kiss in front of the people. One push it all it takes— then the music stopped. You held on to each other for a bit longer before Jaehyun guided you towards your table.

“I’ll get us drinks,” He whispered.

Your head was still swimming with the feel of dancing of Jaehyun when Johnny approached you, eyes bright. He automatically has his hand lifted for a high-five.

“Hey!” He called out.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Seo!”

“Please, just Johnny Y/N.”

You practiced the name with your mind before saying it out loud, “Happy birthday, Johnny!”

“There! Better!” He laughed but stopped when he saw the wrapped gift above your table, “Is that for me?”

“Uh, yes. I’m sorry this is all I could afford.”

“No, no, Y/N! Whatever is this, I’ll cherish it.” He smiled at you, “What is it by the way? You know, I really get too giddy whenever I receive gifts.”

“Oh, a portrait of you.”

His mouth formed a big ‘O’, asking for permission to open the gift, you told him yes since it’s his now. Johnny’s eyes bore an amazement that made you flustered. He stared and stared at the portrait.

“Wow, I am really touched, Y/N. Thank you for this.” Said he. You waved your hand to tell him it’s alright.

But then his eyebrows creased, his face shows an expression that of remembering something. Then he put his finger on his lips, contemplating the portrait.

“I know someone who had a similar art style as you,”

“Really? Who is he?”

You waited for Johnny to answer, an unfamiliar agitation rests in your bones by every second that passes of not knowing who the person might be. Then he snapped his fingers, creating a sound.

“Yes! I remember now! You have the same style as Aurora!”

If Johnny could clap, he absolutely would. You sat there, speechless. His other compliments were drowned by your screaming thoughts.

Aurora.

He said your art style is similar to Aurora’s.

Whoever she might really be, the mention of her name— specially in real life— never failed to send shivers down your spine.

You gulped and asked Johnny, “Who is Aurora?”

“None of your business,” The man behind you answered. Jaehyun.

You wanted to tell him she’s not ‘none of your business’. She was a product of your imagination, she was. And now the people around you knows her name. Johnny knows her. Jaehyun calls out for her name in your dreams. Your intuition tells you something is going on. But your throat has gone dry. No matter how much you wanted to tell Jaehyun that you dreamed about Aurora often, no words came out of your mouth. Your body feels heavy. And you know, you’re scared. Scared of the answers once you ask.

Aside from night black hair and blue eyes, who really are you, Aurora?

—

#jung jaehyun au #jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun imagines #yuno imagines #nct imagines #nct au #yuno au #pls leave some feedbacks i would really appreciate it!!#tHANK YOUUU!!!

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mantlelificent · 7 years

Text

Protected | R.M.

Summary: Reggie Mantle grew up protecting what he loved.

I miss you.

You received the text on the first day of school, the instant your baby pink ballet flats maneuvered within the halls of Riverdale High, which were marginally filled with mayhem from everyone’s first day jitters.

Well, not everyone. You, despite your extra pretty face, extra shiny curls, and extra preppy outfit, wore a heavy façade that drooped lower than the Maybelline Fit Me-concealed eye-bags that were situated below your unexplained, cheery eyes that tried to greet everyone with much positivity as possible. As everyone knew your perfect reputation, the happy-go-lucky cheerleader that everyone admired and loved since the day you entered high school. It was never tarnished, so you refused to let a silly break-up move it at all.

You took out your phone and shakily gazed down at the message. It was sent in clear, with no emoji’s or silly grammatical errors. Your nervous fingers moved for you, but your brain was being silly that day and it had no planned response for the text message.

A wave of students accidentally crossed and one of them partially collided against your hardly five feet tall physique, which was a thankful jolt that rattled you off from replying to the text message. You squeezed the iPhone tightly, bearing no mind of the glittery fake diamonds from the phone case bearing harsh indentions against your palm.

The moment you were able to fix your locker and lock it behind you, you immediately set off to find a seat in the gym—hoping that an early departure from the first day madness would create a false sense of comfort from your inevitable fate, which was meeting your ex-boyfriend again subsequently after a summer of trying to forget all about him.

Everyone had always said that you were perfect for Reginald Mantle.

You were a girl blessed with your father’s dominant sloped nose and your mother’s graceful and tiny, ballerina body. Being the only child meant being under the revolving gaze of your mother and father’s watchful eyes twenty-four/seven, and you grew up to be accordingly limpid; yet, at the same time pretentious for you were the heir of one of the wealthiest families in Riverdale.

Reggie was a boy meant for you even before you knew what he was supposed to be. He was a constant person in your life, a fixture caused by your parents and his parents’ meddling. Though, despite your unending play times together and a hired tutor that taught you and him up until you were in middle school, Reggie and you grew up in different paths, in different aspects.

You and Reggie were in the opposite sides of the spectrum. Nevertheless, you were inexplicably drawn to him. He was exactly the same as you, but as the same time, so, so different.

He was difficult to figure out. He had pushed children off swing sets and had hogged all the toy cars to himself as he disliked sharing. You hated the smirk on his face when he teased his inferiors, and still you loved him when he kissed you goodnight. He’d hold you in the softest way possible, muscled arms entrapped around you with touch as light as a feather, and similarly he’d used the same arms dangerously with heated intent at someone else.

You never got why people often told you that he was perfect for you. He was, in your point of view, a mixture of positives and negatives. He was your opposite.

The thing about opposites was that when a unity occurred, it would be a co-existent dependency that held itself with tension.

You loved him more than he loved himself. That was probably the reason why the balance wasn’t right and he pushed himself off, leaving you in the dust.

“Are you alright?” Surprisingly, Cheryl Blossom would be the first person to question you that today. The said Blossom stood above you, her red curls down the right side of her chest, a hand on her hip and a raised eyebrow. You tried to hide the flinch that came with Cheryl’s edged tone, but she assumingly noticed it since she took it herself to sit next to you on that noisy lunch table.

“Talk to me,” she demanded. “I don’t want anyone on my squad to be sadder than my supposed star quality. You cannot rain on my parade on this week’s performance.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered as you picked on your salad.

“[y/n], a stupid boy doesn’t have the right to state your mood status.” She hissed. “There are 7 billion people in the world. God knows how much boys will there be after your life post-Reggie Man—“

“Damn, Cheryl,” You stood up. “I said I’m fine!”

Your words were a little too loud, and laced with anger. The whole open-lawn cafeteria went into a full pregnant pause from your little burst and your eyes betrayed you as it went to a familiar face that you couldn’t just let go off. His smirking, never ceasing, hardly-caring face wavered slightly as he looked your way, as everyone had. He looked down once before pushing his left foot off benched on the seat and faced in the opposite direction, going back into a conversation with Chuck Clayton.

You couldn’t care less what that meant and you sped off from your table, grabbing your cellphone with you. Opening the text message up on your interface, your quivering fingers typed out a reply before hitting send.

“I thought you said I couldn’t see you again,” the tall and handsome boy chuckled as he sat coolly on the stools that they had in Pop’s. His tousled, brown waves would shine into a blondish side under the neon lights of Pop’s infamous signs, and his pretty blue eyes would turn your messy head into a complete haze of white noise. “I missed you,” Jackson voiced out, echoing what he had recently texted you that morning.

It was seven in the evening, and mostly everyone had this night tacked to watch the last screening due for the closing Midnight Drive-In. You had thought to go but you knew that it would simply be another place that would haunt you again with memories that happened in the arms of a familiar stranger.

“I couldn’t resist,” you whispered zealously, biting your lip, then striding towards him until both of your faces had no space with each other. He kissed back passionately, and you followed along in accord, ignoring the way your heart bleated in a monotonous fashion, like it was a routine you followed every morning. Fingers tracing down his rugged, jean jacket, you stopped as it went to a tracing on his arm. A tattoo of a dangerous serpent.

“Watch it,” he pushed himself off you and went to slip down his sleeves. “Any good ‘ole folk wouldn’t wanna see that snake on a young thing’s skin.”

“A young thing, huh?” You titled your head, letting him caress your cheek. It made you feel like being touched by an intruder. You held your tongue from stating that out loud. “I heard that your buddies are over at the drive-in tonight.”

“—yeah,” the handsome, rugged boy agreed, holding your hand like a whisper. “But you’re much better than any movie, let’s agree. Pretty and innocent [y/n][y/l/n].”

“If my father saw you with me,” you told him with a trace of a smile hinting on your lips while leading the boy down to a booth. “He would freak,” you ended with a pendulous but crude smirk, as the feeling of going behind your parents’ back often created a brilliant feeling of teenage rebellion.

However, the light that would go unperturbed that night beneath the luminescence of you with the boy from the Serpents would go back unlit as a sudden burst of unexpected customers walked in the empty Pop’s.

It was a famous group of blue and yellow hues, the king, the boy in between the boisterous and rowdy laughs, and you couldn’t help but shake as his eyes immediately turned toward the serpent and your contumacious self.

“[y/n]?” Reggie Mantle took it upon himself to breeze through the rows of booths with a face of disbelief, his voice rising. And as you expected, anger rising as his comical face slowly slipped to stone cold when his eyes landed on the lingering fingers of the serpent teenager on your arm. “Who the hell is he?”

“Fuck off, Reggie,” you glared, bringing yourself to whisper to your current partner beside you, “Ignore him.” You tried your best to act a casual as possible, though the sudden racing of your heart that went with the way your ex-boyfriend stared at you in a mix of hardening confusion and indignation.

The other football players were left in a fit of widening eyes as Reggie, in impulsion, went and grabbed your arm in fury, “I’m taking you home.”

And it was a laughable scene, provided that you have been in witness in a circumstance like this before; on the contrary, you were always behind him before, supporting him like a good girlfriend. Until now.

Reggie showed the chaos within him through the bones between his knuckles—several scars made proof of that. Now, you were his enemy, the one that caused the fire beneath his eyes. The booths made a guarded ring.

“What the hell, man—“ The serpent boy scoffed before Reggie snapped and gripped and landed a good punch with no regret on the other boy’s face. That started a full-blown fight, which lead pandemonium where Moose, Chuck, and several others hurriedly tried to pull the Asian off the other boy. Reggie’s blows were pernicious, and over the yells of the football team trying to stop the fight, the only thing you could do was watch everything in horror.

“—fighting on public property, what on earth caused you to do that?!” And Mrs. Mantle let out a startled shriek and tried to shield her son as Mr. Mantle gave a tumultuous slap on Reggie’s already bruising face. You gripped your jacket, feeling the cotton and thinking of it as abrasive as hooves, guilt going off you in waves as the only thing you could do was watch the aftermath unfold in the Mantle estate, where you had been protectively ushered off to with your parents and Sheriff Keller due to Pop’s emergency dial.

“This is getting out of hand,” Reggie’s father continued, a harsher than stern look on his purple face. Yanking back his hand, his gaze shot to you, which you couldn’t bear to hold longer than a second. “This boy has been nothing but trouble this year—I swear, this was the last straw, Reginald. I need to ship him to board—“

“It was my fault,” you found your voice, hurried and not gentle at all—willing to cross out the guilt killing your tightening chest. Your parents’ tension-heavy faces whipped their heads to you, their protected daughter that could hardly do no wrong in this world. “I came there with Jackson—“

“No, I fought him, she had nothing to do with th—“ Reggie hastily claimed, harsh and scarily void of emotion. He was seemingly too callous from responding to his father—and you had realized that this could have been happening more so than none and that this boy could have grown up this way, and while your heart was pouring from hearing him protect you, you knew that it was your call to turn things around.

“No,” you squeaked, hearing yourself panic. “I guess I was being rebellious, I met up with Jackson, and – and- “ You eyed your father. “He was with me and Reggie saw me and Jackson did something and he got provoked,” you finished, lying. You looked at Reggie, and he gazed at you, turmoil and hurt swirling in his eyes.

That led to a tension-filled silence. You closed your eyes, and could hear the sounds of Reggie’s father’s footsteps going off to a direction. Somewhere that’s not here, of course.

“Sorry, that shouldn’t have happened,” he would tell you days later, smirk latched to his lips like a boy to a candy bar. He’d say it would no feeling, no emotion, as if he wasn’t someone that was in what happened and he was merely a person who’d heard of what happened.

The memory of his father slapping him because of you would haunt you forever, and your eyes would wander to his cheek not due to any romantic purpose, but the ache of wondering how much it hurt to protect you, a person he shouldn’t even be caring for anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you ignored his first statement, and spat out what you needed to say. The hallways were empty. “I was being petty. I wanted to—“ The words were dignified to be stated out in the open. “I wanted to forget about you.”

His silence mocked you. The 6’3 handsome and usually word-y jock—the boy you really, just really, really loved, gazed at you as if your turbulence, though with a slip of concern on his façade. You continued, lips burning with words you only imagined you would say in a dream, “You hurt me, Reggie. I hated you for making me spend a summer without you. So, yeah. I did something. I slept with that douchebag, that serpent, just to forget about you. So, fuck you.”

The response was instant. An utter storm shadowed over his face. “Fuck me? Fuck me? Are you fucking kidding me?” His fingers wrapped tightly around his coifed hair, eyes blazing with chasms of void and anger. “The only thing I ever did was goddamn protect you! If you hadn’t been so stupid, you wouldn’t be in this mess. I shouldn’t have protected you from the start if it was going to lead this way.”

“Protected me from the start?” You questioned, beckoned with hatred.

“Yes! I’ve always been protecting you. I love you, [y/n]. So much. The reason I ended things is because you were going to end up broadcasted on this shitty book and—“ Reggie sighed and you looked at him confusingly. He stepped forward, “Look, last year I was in hell. My dad caught me doing some stupid shit and he was going to blame it on you. I needed to protect you, it was instinct. I had to break up with you because I couldn’t bear the guilt that—“

This time, it was your turn to slap him. Reggie snapped his head back at you, shocked.

“You stupid jerk,” your body shook from relief and at the same time, numbness. “You couldn’t have at least told me about that? I literally cried for a week because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, the great Reggie freaking Mantle.”

Reggie stared at what only could have been eons, before shaking his head and returning a soft gaze that was only for you. “I’m sorry.”

You could shake your head as he placed out his warm hand next to yours, swirling and wrapping it around yours in the gentlest way possible.

It was an epiphany, when you looked at him and you had finally seen a glimpse of an extent that he would do for you. The balance was off and you had thought of it in the wrong way.

He loved you more than he loved himself.

omg i’m so sorry. whenever i write i’d always get so carried away with excessive details and annoying character musings!!! please tell me what you think! feel free to reblog or like or message me! always open to hear what you guys think huehue. :)

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