#anyone remember the red string of fate??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place.

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts.

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay.

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle...

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages.

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue.

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox.

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots.

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom.

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger.

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious.

Why would you say that?

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion.

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass.

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you.

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile.

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur?

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you.

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts.

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly.

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you.

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.”

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears?

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat.

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to…

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels.

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats.

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use.

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want.

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man.

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone.

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out.

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand.

He wants you to guide him to his father.

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years.

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens.

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you.

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is.

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh.

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out.

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely.

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory.

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand.

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission.

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm.

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be.

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.”

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick.

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.”

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x fem reader #konig x reader #könig #könig cod #konig x you #cod konig

3K notes · View notes

palajae · 11 months

Text

love me (k)not. | 1k special

PAIRING ▸ niki x reader, slight jungwon x reader

GENRE ▸ soulmate! au, string of fate! au, photographer! au, childhood-friends-to-lovers, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WORD COUNT▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ yes, niki can see the red string of fate that connects two people together. and no, he can’t just tell people who their soulmate is. you’re his only friend but there’s one problem and he can see it quite clearly (and literally)- your string isn’t connected to his.

AKA a reality check that niki loves you, no matter what the universe says.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of bullying, slight violence, child experimentation, food, drinking/alcohol (but only with an aged up riki and reader!!), kissing, jungwon being a jerk for a little :(

hi guys did anyone miss me :) it’s been a long ride but due to popular request for longer oneshots here is a very long one that i basically died over! i really hope you guys enjoy it as i worked super hard, and thank you guys again for 1k (more like 1.2k now but) ily 🩷

i. one string, two strings, red strings, new strings.

he doesn’t know when it really started. it simply happened one cloudy afternoon. and it’s not like the subject was completely foreign to riki, oh no, he had definitely heard tales from older people about the topic.

unfortunately for him, it just had to be when he was a mere seven year old. ‘it’ meaning the delicate and thin red strings— almost identical to the yarn his grandma would use for knitting—appearing all around him, encasing him in a world like a spy in a laser trap trying to escape with their precious treasure.

tiny riki frowned, glancing around while still having a tight grip on his mother’s hand in order not to get lost in the vast mall they were currently shopping at. his attention was suddenly caught, eyes focusing on the larger hand he was still holding onto. more specifically, the pinky finger of his mother’s right hand.

a perfect little knot wrapped around her smallest finger.

his eyes followed the string, but it traveled quite far through the crowd of people and he eventually gave up, the string pulling farther than he thought. later would he really figure out the meaning of this, but at the time, he simply tugged on his mother’s shirt, attracting her attention. she glanced down, answering her child with a hum.

cautiously, riki took a quick peek around at the passerby’s, confirming what he saw on what seemed to be about everyone else’s hands as well, almost getting lost in the maze of the red before his eyes flicked up to her.

“what are the red strings for?”

his mother raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to hear better. “what? repeat what you said, riki.”

he stood up straighter, clearing his throat. “i said, what are the red strings on everyone’s hand for?”

riki’s mother paused, a train of thoughts running through her head. once an answer finally appeared, she attempted to calm her suddenly racing heart before squatting down and leaning even closer to her son. she looked him carefully in the eye, and riki can still remember the movement of her lips speaking clearly and slowly, the words that left her lips that day and changed his life forever.

“just like the ones grandpa told you about?”

he remembers exactly what he responded back with.

“yes.”

they went to the doctors eventually for assistance. riki now knows it would’ve been inevitable, and perhaps earlier was better than later.

the doctor returned back with what seemed like an impossible diagnosis: riki can see people’s red strings of fate.

their soulmate connections.

then came the questions, tests, experiments. it lasted for a long time in little riki’s head, and it was indeed a long time for a child. several years- five to be exact. five years spent in a lab, all in solitude, to be kept under control and monitored over time.

riki remembers the overwhelming amount of people. people like the scientists with the tidy white coats and glasses who came in and took his blood or ran tests on his eyes and brain. he also remembers the average people who would occasionally come in, usually a man and woman looking quite anxious and timid, and who would sit down in front of him, both hands clearly in sight of riki.

every time, as if it was natural instinct, his eyes would flick down to their right hand, spotting the tied knot on their pinky. then a scientist would ask questions-

do you see a red string? yes.

can you see who it is connected to? yes.

is it to each other?

yes—most of the time. occasionally, he would answer no with a shake of his head. there was always the variety of responses from the people. a gasp, crestfallen look, maybe even tears. whispers and murmurs would come from the white coated people as they wrote stuff down.

riki was confused. did being soulmates really matter when most people (meaning everyone except riki) never had to ability to see who their soulmate was anyways? people fell in and out of love, regardless.

the lab came up with a final conclusion: most likely, nishimura riki could indeed see people’s soulmates through their red strings. he couldn’t touch the red strings, it was like they were just imaginary, only visible to him. but they had no idea how, but they knew he could see them and if they were connected or not in accordance with his field of vision.

most would think he was just a kid faking it—with a great deal of imagination—but his accuracy of determining two people’s soul connection was a little too frightening to be a childish prank.

form what riki overheard, the government planned to keep his special “power” a secret. after all, riki was just a kid. public knowledge only meant trouble and who knew what else. half argued to leave the poor kid alone, while others vouched to keep him under surveillance for the rest of his life.

either way, riki was forced to keep his mouth shut about his ability—not that he wouldn’t have wanted to say anything anyway.

of course, rumors and secrets still leaked out, but for the most part, riki seemed to be safe. maybe a little too safe. he didn’t really have friends. no, he didn’t have friends at all.

personally, the imaginary ones appearing in his years of loneliness didn’t count. riki possessed a power the world had never seen before, but he had no friends. no childhood. no life.

after five years of living alone in a laboratory surrounded by white lights, white clothes, and more white walls, riki was finally released when the government reached a dead end in their research. how much power could a kid with soulmate seeing abilities wield? the government hoped it was close to none. besides, no one knew when he could get called in again.

his parents? yes, he supposed they did love him. but enough to keep him from being tested on for years and not having a proper life? other would argue it was for the benefit of his “special ability.”

research gave answers that in reality, didn’t have any use. (his parents wouldn’t mention the copious compensation fee the government gave for testing on their son, though).

and riki’s red string himself?

he had to admit, when he was first discovering his newly identified ability, he was also curious about who his soulmate could be. and like many, many others when he took a peek, the string just carried on in the distance, unable to display the carrier of the other end.

once riki was back in the “real world,” he was kept mostly at home during the heat of the summer. but he would always remember the feeling of being taken out of his room and directed outside into a dark, heavily guarded vehicle for occasional checkups. he remembers glancing outside while driving past tall buildings and sometimes seeing countless red strings pass him by, a sight he hadn’t seen since going to the mall with his mother all those years ago.

his mother walked into his room one day with a clean, white envelope in her hands and an unreadable expression on her face. he looked up from his hands, eyes catching her red string hanging again before looking at his mother fully.

“you’re attending a new school, riki.”

ii. eros and psyche.

the cursed rules echo in his mind. they were pretty simple, yet held the heaviest consequences.

don’t tell anyone about your abilities.

especially don’t tell anyone about their soulmate.

it wasn’t his choice to. it’s not like he wanted to, either. even at the mere age of twelve, riki wasn’t one to mess with fate or whatever the universe was doing to him. the red lines invaded his personal space, but at some point it didn’t bother him anymore.

what really bothered him was the daunting task of attending school. learning in person, having homework, interacting with others.

riki was educated at the labs, but that schooling came in the form of simple workbooks and videos.

needless to say, the first few days were rough.

quite hard.

very hard.

waking up early probably got riki the most. being surrounded by so many other kids was quite overwhelming. especially when they stared at him whenever he passed by like he was different.

which, he was.

everyone else had established their respective friend groups already. he learned why pretty early on, though. why the weird looks and gossip passed by him. it was all because of one girl who just really couldn’t whisper for her life. (even without confirming or denying it, he wondered how they found out?)

he even started to go by niki instead of riki—the one letter difference was the best he could do.

perhaps rumors were spreading quickly around about riki and his ‘power’ to see others’ red strings connected to their soulmates.

not even a week of school and riki already developed his own reputation. a feat of its own, no?

at first, it was hard to adjust to seeing so many other kids, waking up at the crack of dawn, and managing the stupid overload of work—basically what seemed to be about everything. but somehow, riki felt a bit more settled in, if he could even describe it as that.

he was quiet, extremely, but still very well known around the school. his grades weren’t bad after all, it turns out riki was pretty alright at “school”, although he mostly slept in class or daydreamed away.

the one thing he could admit he failed at as a human (albeit a ‘special’ human) was socialization.

yeah, riki had basically no friends and he embraced it.

he sat in the back of the class, spoke a total of four words per day, and occasionally messed around. if he really felt like it, he would put in his earbuds and listen to his mixtape like an angsty teen before going home for the day.

all day. all week. on repeat.

if his mother was ever concerned and asked, his rationale would be that riki simply didn’t trust other people. he forced himself to stop caring about and looking at everyone’s red string and soulmates, or anything related.

yet he still had to deal with strangers confronting him and asking who their soulmate was. it was all random people to him, mostly. so who knew what would happen if he became friends with someone, just to discover they used him to find out their soulmate?

even years later, his theory is proven to be accurate.

why, riki internally sighs, do people think they can get whatever they want, whenever they want?

the two girls in front of him, he finally spares them a glance. he just wanted to call it a day, go home and watch some anime or something, not have two random girls pounce on him after school. he barely manages to keep his mouth shut.

“so,” one of them says, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, “can you tell us who our soulmates are?”

which obviously translates to: tell us now or you’ll suffer the consequences.

he takes out an earbud nonchalantly, a blank expression on his face.

“no thanks.”

she takes a step closer, and his eye twitches. “but you can.”

her eyes glare into his, and her friend does the same.

“i can, but will i?” riki asks sarcastically, annoyance beginning to reach its limit. when one of them grabs his shoulder, he starts to panic.

“get your hand off me.” his voice is cold.

“or what?” they mock.

riki grits his teeth, attempting to cool down. he can’t fight back—not just because he doesn’t want to hit them, but because it’ll attract unnecessary attention and that’s the last thing he needs.

the girls giggle that same annoying high pitched sound, although it’s not a blissful or joyful one, it sounds more like a warning with a malicious edge to it.

“oh come on, won’t you be nice to us girls? we’ll let you-“

one hand reaches out and he dodges so quickly they have to pause for a second.

“don’t touch me,” riki puffs out, barely keeping it together.

“i said-“

“how many times does he have to tell you two to leave him alone?”

that was the first time.

the very first time riki ever laid eyes on you, and the very first time his eyes didn’t immediately fall to your hand and red string.

they scowl, about to retort when you shrug uninterestedly, revealing your phone camera pointing straight at them. “i can just report you guys for bullying, you know, or like harassment.”

their eyes widen, before flashing you that look- the one blatantly showing that they just cursed at you silently- before furiously stalking off.

silence follows as you put your phone away and riki collects himself.

you turn to him, voice and expression softer than earlier.

“you good?”

riki shrugs, about to turn away.

“w-wait!” you call out hesitantly. he stops, on the verge of leaving regardless of what you have to say.

“uh, don’t worry. i didn’t actually record anything, just made it look like i did.”

you inhale, trying your best to ignore the awkward atmosphere. “i think we have some classes together? my name’s y/n.”

his eyes flick to yours for a split second before looking away. riki barely nods, putting his earbud back in.

you clear your throat. “and yours is?”

you can barely hear his quiet mutter of an answer before he walks off, leaving you alone in the hallway. you already knew what it was, you just wanted to hear his voice at least once. but his answer leaves you frowning (wondering if you didn’t hear him properly or didn’t clean your own ears properly.)

riki, you contemplate thoughtfully.

regardless of if he was niki or riki, it sounded nicer coming from himself than it did from others.

surprisingly enough, he runs into you again the next day. or not really, you sort of just found your way towards him in the back of the classroom and plopped your stuff down right beside riki.

he didn’t notice you because of his earbuds in until you tap his shoulder, sending a small smile. riki stays emotionless, acknowledging your presence with a quick glance over.

he can’t count the amount of times you attempted at keeping up conversation before giving up. riki would later regret the short, blunt answers he always gave in return. but it baffled him, how you would never mention the red strings or anything related.

you talked about normal things like a normal person, and like riki was a normal person. it was weird how he could learn so much about you based on what you said in a day.

like how you would complain about the astounding amount of homework but always did it all on time and aced every single test. or when you said you were starving but during lunch he would catch you giving your packed lunch to your other friends who were just as hungry as you.

even how you would never fail to greet and sit next to riki, and randomly mutter under your breath for no reason.

he didn’t understand you and how pervasive you were. when he’s a hard concrete wall and you’re still pounding at it every single time. but deep down, he never failed to see your lively soul.

riki’s encountered so many different people with differing intentions, and yet you stand out. he just can’t figure you out.

you pass him the paper for attendance one day and he mutters a small thanks. you practically do a double take, staring at him for a good five seconds before beaming down at your paper. riki doesn’t miss that, either.

he doesn’t know how it happens. you talk to him, and he feels himself responding before he can realize it. you never once mentioned the words red string or soulmate ever. perhaps that was what led him to feel a bit more safe around you. maybe his guard was never let down completely, but you certainly had some effect on him.

maybe, you two became friends. although riki didn’t even know what friends even were. even the school picked up on it quite easily. one of the most brilliant kids in the grade hanging with the outcast- the weird kid who never said a word.

riki doesn’t understand. you have your own friends–he assumes. why even bother with him?

you start sitting next to him at lunch, for crying out loud.

not that he minded, it was actually nice to sit next to someone and not an empty chair or desk.

“hey,” you plop down next to riki, stuffing a grape into your mouth. “what’d you get on the test?”

he looks up. “which one?”

you sigh, taking out a binder.

“history.”

riki takes out an earbud, blinking. “78. you?”

you tsk while popping another grape into your mouth. “i thought our study session was helpful. i got a 97.”

he scoffs, nothing your displeased expression. “you’re smart. you should be happy.”

you raise your eyebrows, ready to retort.

“ you’re smart too, nishimura riki.”

“-if you stopped watching anime all day.”

you just barely manage to dodge the flying grape aimed at you.

you take the seat next to him, taking out one of his earbuds with an intent expression. riki looks up at the loss of sound in his left ear, eyebrows furrowed to object. he stops when he sees you.

“you wanna hang out after class?”

“no.”

you pout. “why not?”

he shrugs. “ask my mom.”

“i personally think she would be ecstatic with you going out instead of staying cooped up inside all day.”

he has to stay silent at that.

triumphant, you pack up your stuff, not bothering to wait for his answer. “five pm at the gates.”

he shows up. riki wasn’t that big of a jerk (at least he thinks so).

he did again when you invited him out after that. and again, and again.

even when you both start adding more and more layers to your everyday outfits, nothing changes. even when exams started and the pink blossoms began falling from the trees.

it’s like one second you were having one sided conversations and the next thing you know, you’re laying down next to each other in the grass during your lunch break.

“so you literally just see the strings?”

oh, yeah.

that was one of the things about you that made riki dumbfounded. at first, you didn’t say a single word about his ability. but as riki let his guard down and opened up more, he realized it was because you actually had no clue. somehow all the rumors that were spread about him never reached you. but once you found out, you did not stop asking questions. countless questions about his “really, really cool superpower” as you deemed it.

“yeah. i see it.”

“everyday? all the time?”

he shoots you a look. “no, i can just sneeze and it’ll turn off.”

“really?”

“no, stupid.”

you huff, hands behind your head as you turn to glance at him and he averts his gaze quickly from your face.

“that’s cool. but you probably wish you could turn it off, right?”

all the time, he thinks bitterly. maybe even permanently.

“can you touch them?”

“i told you already that i can’t!” he shifts, “besides, why would i want to—everyone would just be staring at me like i was a psycho if they just saw me creepily petting the air or whatever.”

he watches your reaction, seeing the corners of your mouth tilt up as you imagine it, and it makes his as well. there’s something satisfying about seeing your reaction that makes him unable to resist.

you abruptly stop, murmuring, “we’re friends, right?”

he pauses, swallowing. “uh, sure. what makes you ask that?” quickly, you shake your head. “oh no, i just never asked you before. wanted confirmation.”

“your only friend, right?” you add jokingly, and he elbows your side.

“i’m kidding-“

“...but i like that,” you add quietly.

a petal flutters down from the tree above you, landing in your hair. you don’t notice as you’re distracted, but riki does. as you start to speak again, he lifts a hand and delicately picks it out. you stop mid sentence as riki watches you gently.

he swallows, and you quickly clear your throat.

it was true. suddenly, riki’s quite glad that he didn’t know who your—his only friend—soulmate was. why, he’s not sure. all riki knows is that he doesn’t want to find out who your soulmate is.

and he’d never admit it, but it was probably (definitely) fear. fear at who your string was connected to. why?

he had no clue and that scared him even more.

riki’s pulled along by your surprisingly strong grip, weaving through corridors and into an empty classroom. a couple of students stare as you two pass by, apparently still not over the fact that you and riki could be friends—let alone be in the same room.

panting, you shut the door and lock it, but stay close to watch out through the window quietly. riki notices your hand still tightly intertwined with his but he decides to keep quiet.

“what’s going on?” he whispers. your gaze breaks away from the window in order to reply to him. “this guy keeps following me-i’m pretty sure it’s the one who left the confession note in my locker and won’t leave me alone during the periods i don’t have with you.”

“someone likes you?” he asks incredulously, and you slap a hand over his mouth, shushing him fiercely as you continue your patrol from inside the classroom.

his insides suddenly feel unpleasant. it’s already uncomfortable and stuffy enough in the room, being squished next to you behind the door so no one- well, apparently this annoying guy who’s stalking you- can find your whereabouts. he doesn’t know who this person is, but he doesn’t like it. not one bit.

suddenly, there’s a voice coming from outside, one asking for the location of you. a couple of female ones answer, and riki figures they must belong to the girls from earlier who saw you guys pass by.

you gasp, and riki feels your grip tighten. you pull him in closer so you’re practically squished together against the door, breaths held as quietly as possible.

it takes everything in him not to squirm as riki waits, he fears you can hear the sound of his heart pounding.

two… three… five minutes pass. only when you hear complete silence do you release him. flustered, riki pulls away, attempting to fix his wrinkled uniform so you don’t notice his reaction.

it must’ve been a clear success, as you only heave a sigh of relief and flash a mischievous grin towards riki.

“i think we’re good, let’s get out of here!”

you don’t make any leeway for him, escaping past the door and out the classroom without a sound.

riki pauses, taking a second to catch his breath. the past few seconds of your close proximity replay in his mind. he shakes it off, brushing the weird sensation in his gut.

still, he wonders if there was any chance you felt that too. or was it just him?

you throw your arm around riki, sporting a grin with a creepy similarity to that of the cheshire cat’s. he flinches at your action, almost cursing in the middle of the crowd of students. “what do you want?”

by this point, finally after two years, most people had gotten used to the sight of the two of you. all the gossip and whispers behind your back flew over his head—and it had never bothered you in the first place.

you stifle a laugh. “no need to be so grumpy. come on, follow me.” you weave through the hallway of crowded kids and riki struggles to keep up, puzzled.

he follows you to the somewhat empty courtyard, sitting down on a nice patch of grass as you wait for him to get settled. “why did you take me out here?”

you roll your eyes, “patient as ever, nishimura riki.” you dig through your messy school bag before your eyes light up.

“close your eyes,” you order.

he does as you say, no questions asked. riki feels a delicate sensation on his wrist—at this point he can recognize your warmth pretty easily.

“all done.”

he cautiously peeks his eyes open only to see you staring expectantly back at him. soon, his gaze falls down to where he felt your light touch before.

a simple, silver chain wraps around his thin wrist.

pretty.

confused, riki furrows his eyebrows, meeting your eyes that glimmer with a strange compassion.

you hold up your own hand with a cute smile that makes his heart pound, displaying a matching bracelet—identical to his.

“it’s not much but, happy birthday, riki.”

to think that he himself didn’t even remember his own birthday. you beam at him, and he feels his ears grow red.

“do you like it?”

“y-yeah,” he mumbles and you nod in satisfaction. “good, because i spent my own money out of my pocket for it. it wasn’t cheap, you know.”

his eyes widen and you press your lips together. “in exchange, you have to promise me something.”

under the peacefully swaying trees, under the warm sunlight and buzzing spring, he realizes he could promise you anything.

you hold out your left pinky. “you’ll stick by my side no matter what. promise me that.”

he opens his mouth to speak but you’re faster, raising your other pointer finger to cover his lips. “just promise me or else i’ll take away your gift.”

your childlike orbs envelop him, full of life and sincerity—he knows he’ll never forget that day.

nor when his own pinky reaches up to link with yours.

riki remembers the day as clear as a fresh glass of water, a still puddle of rain that collected after the summer thunderstorms.

you met up with him in first period as you usually did, ruffling his hair with an easy grin as he grumbles (albeit with an affectionate look that you failed to notice).

class continued on normally, somewhat rowdy as always before the teacher came in. you get up to grab something on the floor, hair falling into your eyes. as usual, riki watches over you before spotting your foot catching on one of the chair’s legs. he quickly shouts out a warning, grabbing your wrist in order to balance you as your head whips up.

he catches you, staring at you in concern and making sure you’re alright. you stare at him in shock, flustered and without a response. he chides you with a roll of his eyes, mumbling something about how clumsy you always were and how he always had to watch out for you.

you can’t seem to form any words, so you just snatch your arm back and sit down. riki wordlessly offers a earbud to you, and you accept it with a smile. it’s something you got used to doing, sharing music and playlists with each other.

even as others made fun of you for doing supposedly cheesy couple things, you ignored them. but it did make you wonder. did you and riki seem like a couple? were you?

you guys were young, you had all of high school still to get through together.

what did it mean?

your thoughts get interrupted by the teacher opening the door. everyone settles down, attention focusing.

but today, it was different. it wasn’t just your teacher walking in.

there was an addition. an addition that came in the form of a handsome looking boy, around the same age as you guys.

the teacher introduces him as a transfer student. yang jungwon, he smiles and riki swears people swoon. everyone’s attention is on him, even yours is as you all study him curiously.

riki swore he was past all that looking at people’s soulmate strings and connections. it had been so long since he tried to put two and two together. it was a whole invasion of privacy, and he simply didn’t want to bother himself with other people’s affairs and relations.

but once he saw that new kid step into the room, riki can only focus on his hand, the first thing that came into his view.

and like it was in slow motion, he follows the tiny red string on his pinky down the row of desks to someone sitting a few inches away from riki himself, obviously not paying attention and oblivious to everything while listening to a shared earbud— you.

he almost thinks his eyes are fooling him. it was barely connected by that thin, cursed string. and that’s when it really hits him.

that string was connected to yours.

that string meant your soulmate just walked into the classroom—

and it certainly wasn’t riki.

“jungwon’s really cool. did you know he did taekwondo since he was….”

riki ignores the chatter in the halls as he walks by, brooding as always. but this week was a bit harsher. probably, no, definitely because of the new student jungwon.

ever since he joined your class, people had been talking about him nonstop. it seemed like jungwon was one of the popular kids now, without even doing anything. riki didn’t get what was so cool about him, anyway.

sure he was “cute” and had a kind personality. sure he was incredibly smart and well spoken. that’s all riki had heard the past week from everyone else gossiping in awe.

he turns up the volume on his phone, scoffing. what are they, his fans?

riki wasn’t sure what to do with the newfound information about your soulmate. he didn’t really want to think about it, his first instinct was to look for you in his next period for some cheering up. but when he walks into the classroom, he doesn’t expect to see aforementioned person talking to you, an animated look on his face.

jungwon gestures grandly, probably telling some super cool story from all his achievements. you seem pretty invested, watching with big eyes and occasionally laughing.

riki feels desperation and anger swirl in the pit of his stomach. even worse, he feels loneliness. something he hasn’t felt for a long time blooms inside—something he hasn’t felt since he met you.

what is he supposed to do now that you’ve found your soulmate? or rather, riki has?

you thought everything was fine. everything seemed fine. after the new guy joined your class, riki acted a little weird the first couple of days but he returned to normal soon after. you figured it was because of his normally shy personality. it took you a (long) while for him to warm up to too, after all.

but what you didn’t expect was for him to almost launch a full on investigation. on the new kid jungwon, strangely enough.

you frown. “he’s nice? why are you asking me this? it’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

sure, jungwon talked to you unexpectedly a couple of times, but he was very popular and did that to many people. it wasn’t like he was targeting you or anything like that. or so that’s what you believed.

but it didn’t stop there. in the few classes you shared with the two boys, whenever jungwon would start up a friendly conversation with you, you could feel riki staring holes into your back. and whenever riki made a dumb joke in the middle of class and you flicked him playfully, you swore you caught jungwon’s eye on more than one occasion.

you brushed it off, but one day it was suddenly no longer a matter of trivial things.

usually it was just you and riki at your lunch table, and it had been that way for a while. your friends opted to stay away from him, and you shrugged it off. it was their loss, not yours.

so when jungwon and his group of popular kids approached you and riki, jungwon taking the seat next to you while riki visibly tensed, you figured something was up. you could hear the onslaught of whispers from surrounding tables.

jungwon, the ideal student, joining you and the weird outcast riki?

from then on, the changes were too drastic to ignore. hanging out with just riki, you knew he was obviously bothered but wouldn’t tell you about it. it was visible that he had a clear disdain for jungwon, but would never verbally express it as much as you tried to get it out of him. it was an unreachable part of him, although you thought you had worked hard to get past that secretive, closed off part of him.

worse was jungwon sitting next to you various times in class and making too much conversation for you to ignore (although you really tried to show you weren’t interested in talking the whole time). all while riki stared forward with an unreadable expression, music practically on full blast.

you didn’t know what was going on, and you didn’t know the situation—how to get a grasp on it. you especially didn’t know the occasional looks the two boys would give each other, and how things would change so soon.

all you knew was that it happened one gloomy day, nearing the end of the school year.

you had just finished an exam in science and went looking for riki to walk home together, as you did every day when school ended. when he wasn’t anywhere to be found, you asked around.

most answers came in the form of shrugs, however a couple of classmates recalled seeing him with another group of kids.

you frowned—what reason would riki have to go off with some other people? perhaps you heard the mention of jungwon’s name but you were too preoccupied with finding riki to really pay attention.

before you could get far, you were welcomed into a strange atmosphere when you reached the courtyard. students whispering and gossiping with a variety of expressions present. your heart began to race as you look around. where is he?

you figure you must’ve missed something as the crowd eventually disperses and you get no answers. perhaps riki had a schedule after school and forgot to tell you?

you could’ve sworn you heard someone say jungwon’s name again, but this time along with riki’s name. you brush it off though as you needed to get home before it started to rain—you could feel it in the air.

so you send riki a quick message before starting on the journey home.

the next morning, you checked your phone to find no response. weird.

either way, you had no time to question it as you were already late to class, so you quickly slip in to the seat next to your classmate. your eyes don’t fail to see riki and jungwon’s empty seats.

you nudge haerin sitting next to you. “do you know where niki is? i haven’t seen him since lunch yesterday and he hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”

her eyes widen as she places a hand on your shoulder.

“y/n….you haven’t heard?”

your eyebrows furrow, “heard what? what’s going on?”

the next thing you remember, is your heart dropping.

“niki’s leaving.”

riki…leaving you?

“what do you mean?”

her eyes soften, and you begin to despise the pity on her face. “he’s leaving the school. no one knows why but-“

you zone out after that.

your best friend transferring schools—moving away for some unexplained reason?

no one at school says anything, and you feel like everyone’s keeping you out of the loop on purpose. you hate the feeling that you’re missing a huge piece of the puzzle.

with no explanation, with no answer from his number (no matter how many times you tried calling), riki disappears in the blink of an eye. it’s as if he never existed in the first place.

rumors follow but you know better than to listen to them. all you found out was apparently something happened that day—you suspect, no you know, between riki and jungwon—and the damned result was riki leaving your school.

he never mentioned anything about moving, as far as you knew. he never acted like anything was wrong either. it had to have been something from that day. or maybe not.

at this point, you didn’t know what to believe. you had just lost your closest friend, your study-slash-lunch-slash-everything buddy, and your number one support.

and somehow everything was supposed to go back to normal. everyone continues on normally, including jungwon.

everyone except you.

he’s gone and he left you alone.

as if you ever hoped to see him again.

iii. welcome to the world.

you exhale, smoothing out your wrinkled outfit for the tenth time. you chide yourself internally, why were you so nervous?

it was just an internship. your first day, too. only recently did you graduate high school yourself.

it was just the first day of your newly acquired internship and yet you were nervous for it at a new company in a new city. it was your choice to relocate to a new area for new beginnings and new memories.

to be quite frank, you had no clue what you were doing. why did you even decide to focus on photography? you most definitely didn’t have much experience, only starting the hobby when you graduated high school. maybe you wanted a chance to take your mind off life and see things in a new light. a second chance.

maybe photos didn’t make you feel as alone.

shivering, you shake your head to clear free of thoughts. time to get this over with. the oh so dreaded first day.

before leaving, you don’t forget to leave some food for the stray cat outside your place. you then get up with a satisfied grunt and make your way to the bus stop.

however, your new boss was kind and understanding of your nervousness. you visited the company a couple times before, but never enough to get familiar with the layout and other photographers due to obtaining the internship so suddenly. you didn’t expect to get it either, not as a young, inexperienced student almost fresh out of college. either luck was on your side or your talent seemed to shine through.

it was strange to be in such a different environment than from what you grew up in. supportive, encouraging people all highly invested and passionate in their jobs.

you set up everything in your assigned desk and wait for further instruction.

your boss had showed you around and gotten you used to the daily activities of those working at a photography company, making your transition much smoother.

the whole experience was a little too easy, making you feel so much lighter. you could feel it. things were good- perhaps too good to be true.

“isn’t the first day always the best?” mr. lee, your boss, speaks up.

you quickly nod. “so far, it’s been really good. i was just wondering what my job was actually going to be for the next few months.”

he claps his hands together, almost startling you.

“of course—i like your attentiveness! you’ll be working under one of our best, accompanying him on his work and assisting with whatever he needs to get a feel for what we do here. we can meet him now if you’d like?” his question causes you to pause.

“of course.” you wonder who this ‘he’ was, apparently being one of the best.

a sudden wave of nervousness hits you. all the doubts and fears start to rise, so you swallow and try your best to suppress it.

why did you have such a bad feeling?

as your boss leads you down the offices and desks, you nod enthusiastically and laugh at his remarks as you make your way to the stairway. you go up, about to reach the top step when you spot someone coming down, their faculty name tag flashing in the light. you just barely steal a glimpse of the name, of the face of the person moving.

it’s foreign yet familiar at the same time.

you pause. his face…

you doubt you heard mr lee’s sudden hearty welcome to said person, turning to introduce you with a bright smile. a smile that doesn’t know anything.

“ha, what a coincidence. this is miss y/l/n! you still haven’t met one of our most talented photographers, have you?”

that’s when it hits you.

you feel like everything’s occurring in slow motion, mr. lee’s lips moving slowly, the person’s unreadable expression morphing as you both come to a realization.

“this is our very own best nishimura. nishimura riki.”

your heart drops. no.

it’s not. it can’t be.

why does it feel like the world just crashed down around you? why is it suddenly so hard to breathe? your eyes can’t leave those familiar ones, the same ones that have haunted you ever since that day.

those eyes that fill with recognition at the sight of you, you’re sure of it.

and then, everything is set into motion once more. you blink quickly, several times, exhaling as you try to readjust.

“nice to meet you,” you quickly bow while avoiding his gaze. this actually can’t be.

“you’ll be working with him for the-“

you mutter some lame excuse of needing to go to the restroom before dashing up the rest of the stairs to the nearest safe room, ignoring your boss’s surprised voice.

once you find the restroom, you find the sink and turn on the water. you scrub and scrub your hands before staring at yourself in the mirror.

not after all this time-

not after he left you, he can’t just suddenly appear again. did you just imagine him?

you still can’t believe it, almost refuse to believe it. nishimura riki, after 10 or so years, appears in the flesh right before you. you had long given up on trying to find him. and here he is, working at the same place as you.

he exists, perfectly alive and well without you.

it was just too much. riki was all grown up. he really looked the same, just much, much taller and more grown up in his professional attire. you weren’t used to it. or the fact that, he came back.

unless he never really left.

all those years in middle school and high school you tried to forget come rushing back. the rumors that followed your footsteps, the questions never answered. all those years of pain and loneliness, and confusion-

staying up so many nights pondering what you did that made him run away, leave you when he promised he would be there. after all that time wondering and wondering why and how and what you did. and what could’ve been done.

maybe you were being dramatic but it doesn’t change the fact that he left without a word, and with no contact for you to keep in touch. no attempt at all.

you were so hurt, so closed off now. you convinced yourself that you never cared to see his face again, but what were you supposed to do when riki shows up again, unannounced in front of you like nothing ever happened?

was there even anything left between you two?

you decided early on that your best course of action was to pretend that you never knew him. riki was a complete stranger, and it wasn’t truly a lie. it had been so long since you last saw him.

but you know that won’t work forever. especially not when he was the one you were working under.

you didn’t know what to call him, how to call him. mr. nishimura sounded way too formal especially considering your history, and riki was obviously off limits.

the next day, you stand in front of his desk with your hands clasped together in front of you like a scolded child in front of the principal. you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“so…uh, i guess you’ll be working with me for the next couple of months?”

you barely nod, shifting in your position uncomfortably. instead, your eyes fall on the pictures scattered around the walls in riki’s office.

“i’ve never had an intern before, so-“

you interrupt him impatiently while still avoiding eye contact.

“just tell me what you need me to do, mr. nishimura.”

you could visibly see the both of you cringe at that.

“-please.” you add pitifully as an afterthought.

noticing your coldness, riki must have enough common sense to give you some papers to file and chart.

what a wonderful first day.

you would describe your present relationship with riki as a very formal (and strained) senior-junior one. besides your daily task of avoiding your own mentor as much as possible, you rather enjoyed the work. so far, getting to learn the true process behind taking photos was something you never experienced.

and seeing riki in his element, with his raw talent and skill was another thing in itself. it was a lot to process, seeing an entirely different, mature riki.

you were a little too sad that you missed his growing up.

in the break room one morning, you sip peacefully on your freshly made coffee. it was a nice day, at least you believed so until you heard the door open, signaling the entrance of another person.

you’re about to greet them politely until you realize who exactly it was. you swallow a little too harshly, tensing as the person approached you.

“if you’ll excuse me,” you mutter while slipping past him. riki stands there, unmoving as he watches your figure leave.

it had been like that since the first day when he was reintroduced to you. dry to no responses, indifferent gaze, not a single glimpse into you. into the you that he knew, or once knew.

it was like he was the one talking to a built up wall, unable to do any damage. it’s almost funny how it’s like your positions from back then were switched.

he figured your cold and unapproachable demeanor was only to him—understandably. there was a lot you must’ve been feeling, as well as he. it was a long journey with a lot of baggage riki was still carrying.

still, he sees you with some of the other interns, smiling and laughing as you once did with him. as he stares at you from afar (hopefully not in a stalkerish way), riki realizes that you still have the same laugh, same smile, same attentive expression when someone calls your name.

and yet, you’re so different. you’re so far away from him.

as time goes on, you realize you can’t act like a little kid for the rest of your life. well, for the rest of the time you had this internship (and currently you didn’t have any plans to resign, especially since you literally just started).

during the lunch break, you don’t expect the seat next to you to be taken. you stiffen once you realize who it is—his presence was so familiar that you didn’t even have to take a glance to see who it was.

you start to rise from your seat, but a hand clasps gently around your arm. you freeze.

“y/n,” he starts quietly. you shiver at the sound of his voice, recognizable yet unrecognizable at the same time. you feel like you can’t breathe.

“please. not now.”

with that, you stalk away, meanwhile your eyes fly across the room to ensure no one saw your interaction.

how much longer could you keep doing this?

the more you see him, the more you can’t ignore the fact that you really, really did miss him. it’s like nothing changed—except for his appearance—and you couldn’t suppress the amount of relief you had at the realization that riki was still riki, after all.

he was still the same boy you shared earbuds with back then, at least in your eyes.

you want to know how he’s been. what he’s done, how he came back, how he became the person he is today.

on the other hand, riki realizes the complete transformation you’ve undergone.

the first conversation he had with you after oh so many years, you merely handed him his coffee with a short nod. his attempt to bring up the weather, school, anything just to talk to you again, obviously fell short.

riki’s strategy? give you your space and time. of course he respected that, and maybe you noticed because it seemed to weaken the intimidating barrier from before.

after that, you acknowledged him, greeted him (albeit shortly) every morning—riki even noticed you watching him edit some photos although you thought he couldn’t see you.

while you would never admit it, riki looked pretty cool teaching you his tips and tricks. you didn’t realize how much his job suited him and how lucky his company was to have acquired such a talented, soulful person as a photographer.

you can tell, riki wants to get talk to you so badly, but in fear of getting hurt again, you push him away. it’s hard, when all you can do is expect him to vanish without another trace again.

as you finish touchups on the last photo, you sigh and rub your eyes. things were different now. no point in wondering what could have been.

you walk out into the hallway, wishing to get some coffee to power through those last edits. but you soon stop in your tracks.

“y-y/n.”

your eyes lower to the floor, acknowledging him with a nod. “hey.”

“are you going to the break room?”

you nod again.

“then…” he hits you with those hopeful eyes and you curse internally. “can i come with?”

a surprisingly comfortable silence fills the air, along with the soothing smell of coffee.

riki comments on your more compliant and meek nature—it’s certainly supposed to be a joke but you take it the wrong way.

you frown. “i’ve changed, riki.”

he falters. maybe he’s done too much, too soon.

“i’ve grown up. just like you have. we both have, so maybe you should accept me now like i have to you.”

you turn to leave but he grabs your wrist.

“please. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that. i know i’m in no position to say this, but i thought we were doing okay. i really want to be friends with you again—truly.”

you sigh audibly. there really was no value in being awkward with him for your time here. at least if you tried to maintain an amicable relationship, you wouldn’t have to make up dumb excuses every time you saw him. and if you got closer again, perhaps you could figure out after all this time why he left.

even more importantly, why he came back.

“could we please start over?” his voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it (and much deeper than you were used to).

you wait two, three seconds before turning around,

and sticking your hand out.

“nice to meet you,” you introduce yourself. you watch the smile start to grow on his face.

“i’m nishimura riki, and it’s very nice to meet you too.”

riki sighs, clicking the red x button in the corner. he finished his last portfolio with you as his assistant. it was only a matter of hours, or minutes, before he was assigned his next project. he turns off the light and closes the door behind his office, only to be greeted by your figure.

an eyebrow of his raises. “were you waiting for me?”

you scoff, casually kicking the ground with your shoe while looking off into the distance. “no.”

“well, i was,” you glance at him abruptly in surprise, “let’s go.”

“huh?”

he shrugs, “we finished and everyone else is gone.”

you didn’t expect riki to be so… enthusiastic about it. it as in hanging out together, as friends again.

maybe, you always knew in the end you had to give in. there was no way you could keep up this act against riki. it had always been like that.

if anyone saw you two out now they would probably assume you were two college kids on a date.

wait- date?

“-y/n?”

you glance up, startled. “yeah?”

riki frowns, sipping his boba. “are you okay? you seemed distracted. what were you thinking about?”

you shake your head with a sheepish laugh, “nothing. sorry.”

you wondered how you got to this point.

meeting riki outside of work and hoping you don’t run into any of your co-workers. honestly, it was fun to have a friend to talk with—it was fun to have riki next to you again.

your teenage self would have been dumbfounded.

while you had this time with him, you could finally ask some things you were curious about.

“riki,” you start off and he tries his best to keep calm. it was the first time you had called him by his first name in years. he missed it dearly.

“how did you get into photography?”

he knows what you meant to ask. how did you get here?

he falls back into his chair, staring up at the ceiling. you know just know riki too well, simply waiting patiently for him to take his time.

“i don’t know, to be honest. i always felt different from everyone else.” he pauses and looks at you, “you knew that the best.”

“i wanted to study people more. so i started taking pictures of others. now i just specialize in photographing more important people, like models and idols. i still don’t know how i got here though. that’s the truth.”

“you’re really good,” you say lamely. “you’re very talented and i’m jealous, to be frank.”

you see his ears turn red as he coughs shyly.

“thank you. i guess it’s what i’m best at.”

that wasn’t the exact answer you were expecting, but you took it. soon, you promised yourself, you would uncover the truth.

iv. cupid’s attack.

you like to think that you and riki get into a good groove at work.

you can’t help but burst out laughing, and riki almost stops in his tracks.

he realizes that sweet and soulful sound was just as he last remembered it. it almost makes him shiver. yes, not everything changed about you.

he knows. it can’t last forever—this push and pull relationship. plus, your budding relationship has to result in an explanation. you deserve it at the very least.

as much as riki wanted to keep it hidden, secrets can’t always stay secrets forever. he can’t protect you from everything in this world, his selfish wants can’t always be kept.

as the two of you joke around, various other workers stare at you in envy. somehow, you got to work with the mysterious yet talented riki. the one who got hired out of the blue and somehow rose to the top. no one could deny his skill.

his intimidating and mysterious aura haunted the office for some time. that is, until you came. the way he treated you was shocking to say the least. it seemed like you two were in your own world. there was definitely something, and everyone could see that.

“sorry to interrupt,” another intern speaks up shyly, but the boss wanted me to tell you guys that the party starts at 8.”

“party?” you turn to riki with a perplexed expression.

“ah, i forgot to mention. we have an office dinner party to celebrate the new interns and their hard work.” riki nudges you with a glint as your eyes widen.

“that includes you.”

you weren’t the partying type—if that wasn’t obvious enough. especially not one out of the blue, one not meant for you.

you shift uncomfortably at the large dinner table. riki ended up sitting next to you somehow. you like to think he did it on purpose, knowing you weren’t the type to enjoy socializing in large groups (and neither was he). but little did you know, he came for you.

only you.

everyone was urging you guys to drink, as it was custom to do so at office parties. but you had a limit, so when you get up to leave, making some lame excuse about having more work to finish up at home, riki immediately gets up as well. all eyes fall on you two, and you awkwardly take your leave with a tipsy riki in tow.

“yeah, it’s definitely time to get you home.”

with a rather embarrassing grunt and help from fellow co-workers, you manage to get a grip around riki’s shoulders.

once you make it out of the restaurant however, you realize that you indeed have no clue where riki lives.

“riki,” you start off cautiously, “what’s your address?”

“there!” he points sluggishly toward a nearby barbecue place. you huff.

“seriously, riki. i need to get you home. you’re way too drunk to-“

“let’s go there,” he slurs. “i’m hungry.”

as much as you stand your ground, his incessant begging eventually gets to your head and you cave.

“fine. i’ll just order you some side dishes. then we’re actually going home.”

you can only blink at the amount of dishes on the table that riki ate alone (and the amount that was going to be charged to your card).

“riki… i think that’s enough.” you softly place a hand on his still holding the chopsticks. you mutter something along the lines of, i didn’t know you ate this much this late at night…

somehow, he manages to hear you. he sounds more sober and looks more sober as well, to your relief. “yeah, well, how do you think i got this tall?”

it’s true, you were quite shocked at how tall he got. for a second, you simply stare at him while lost in your thoughts. perhaps it was the alcohol still running in your system.

he raises an eyebrow, “what’s so interesting about me suddenly?”

you clear your throat, felling your face turn hot. “nothing.”

suddenly, it feels as if the mood has changed again. you know this is your chance, and you can’t miss it. not ever again.

“don’t you need to go home soon? would, would anyone be waiting?”

riki lets out a short laugh.

“as if. i’ve been living alone ever since i came back.”

ever since he came back.

you look down at your hands.

“why did you come back?” you whisper. and yet, he hears it again.

as he’s about to respond, you glance at him with a conflicted look. “why did you leave?”

riki inhales, placing his chopsticks on the table neatly. “i’m just… so sorry y/n, for leaving you-“

“then tell me. that’s the least you can do.”

you hate how your voice quivers at the end.

“i… it’s all my fault. i lost control. i got into a fight with yang jungwon.”

you try your best to keep the surprise off your face and let him continue.

“and with my reputation at the school, my parents and the principal came to the conclusion that it was best for me to leave.”

“i didn’t know that it meant going overseas,” he quickly adds, “but i had no choice as a teenager. i could only listen to my parents and when i got the chance, i came back as soon as i could.”

you almost forgot about his so called ability. but it didn’t even matter at this point. you had countless questions, but it seemed like riki was still holding back. there was something he didn’t want to tell you, something he didn’t want you to know.

you were somewhat satisfied with his answers, but something was still bothering you.

you can feel his eyes on you, waiting for some sort of response.

“i see… but why didn’t you come find me?” you voice cracks. “why didn’t you make any effort at all to see me again? because so far, it seems like you were pretty okay with me not knowing that you still existed.”

what you really meant to say was,

you seemed perfectly fine without me. you seemed perfectly fine while i was still hurting after all this time.

“even more,” you continue on, “after you came back all this time.”

riki shakes his head, “i was looking for you.”

you falter at that.

“i always was, even in another country far away. i had to get a new phone and lost your number and all contact. but when i was finally able to come back to our hometown, you were gone. i was able to get a job at our current company due to my parents connections, and i was going to use that money to pay for travel expenses. just to find you.”

“i swear y/n,” and you almost tear up at the sincerity in his eyes, “i would never abandon you.”

“just like i promised all those years ago.”

his voice grows soft, “i always wondered what happened after i left. what you were up to. i imagined you being super successful while doing something you love.”

you laugh in order to lighten up the heavy mood, “as you can see now, that’s certainly not the case. i actually have no clue what i’m doing with my life.”

“you’re- you’re not with anyone or anything?”

you shoot him a baffled look, “what in the world? i can’t even take care of myself, let alone another person.”

you’re so shocked at the question that you miss riki’s subtle sigh of relief. you hadn’t gotten with jungwon— at least not yet, he thinks.

“then, what was high school like? you know, without me?”

you shake your head, not willing to think about those times.

“lonely, obviously, without you,” you grumble.

you had some friends still, but they weren’t riki. they never would be and could never replace him.

you decide to not mention jungwon and the short period of time after riki’s leaving in which he tried to hang out with you. most definitely not after learning what riki told you.

it was weird even to you, how such a popular guy like yang jungwon wanted to hang out with you for some time. but he soon gave up, whether it was because of all the other students noticing and gossiping or because of your moody brooding over the loss of riki.

“that’s all?”

you nod shortly. “i graduated, became interested in photography, and applied for this internship. end of story.”

you shake your head, “i just don’t know how we both got here at the same company, at the same time. man, i was even chosen to work for you of all people.”

riki’s smile grows–

“it’s like it was fate,” you murmur absentmindedly.

–and it immediately drops at that.

“can you still see people’s red strings?” of course, you had to bring that topic up at this time.

“yeah. but i’m done with all that soulmate connection strings and stuff. i just ignore it now.”

you obviously see his change in demeanor at the topic.

“that’s good. it obviously doesn’t affect your photography. i didn’t know how talented you were.”

although so many people had told him that before, it was different hearing it from you. he blames his face flushing on the alcohol, not your compliment.

“t-thanks. you are too. i can see your potential.”

you cock your head, “really? aren’t you just saying that because i’m working with you?”

he shakes his head vehemently.

“of course not. i think you’re one of the most special people in the world. you would be good at anything you want to do, because that’s just you y/n.”

you cough at the sudden change in the air. you don’t think you can handle his endless complimenting.

“thank you riki, really. but are you done eating? i think we should head out.”

you leave with not just your stomachs fuller, but your mind and heart as well.

other nights were spent staying up at the office, finishing edits and cuts. those were the best nights though, in your opinion.

you got the best advice and the best late night talks with riki—he really felt like a leader now. it made you realize how grown up he became.

“i still have the bracelet you gave me. i keep it on my desk just so i don’t lose it.”

your mouth drops open, “ no way? the one i gave you in middle school?” he nods and you internally shudder while thinking about what happened to yours.

“i hate to break it to you, riki, but i actually lost mine..”

–which translated to i threw mine away out of anger and sadness. but you figured you could keep that a secret for the time being.

“it’s fine. i’ll just get us new matching ones.” riki swears he never will forget the satisfied smile on your face, eyes twinkling and nose scrunching.

that was it. riki really tried.

he tried his best, but he can’t help falling in love with you.

he can’t even tell if you like him back or if you’re just being kind, because you are originally just a kind and beautiful soul.

he likes you too much it hurts, but he can’t be hurt again. he doesn’t want to be.

he doesn’t want to tell you about all the secret pictures he would snap of you instead of the actual model that he was working with. the amount of time and effort put into his hidden collection of you. it was one of his works that he was the most proudest of. one that he would cherish forever.

he didn’t even know when he realized it— that riki loved you. perhaps it was the countless hours spent up at night thinking about you, all alone.

but loving you came easily and naturally. red string or not, niki would love you endlessly no matter what. and whatever happened in the end, he would only want happiness for you.

occasionally he would wonder why he had to go through all that testing when he was young, why he had to go thought that entire, torturous and isolating experience.

but then he thinks about you and how without being stuck in the lab for however many years, he would have never met you in the conditions that you met in. you would have never gotten the chance to save him from those bullies if he had gone to school at a normal age and been like all the other kids.

everything that happened to riki, it was to bring him to you. for some reason, he’s sure of it.

even with all that—the feelings and acceptance and denial— riki tries his best to suppress his feelings and just enjoy being with you again. just to make up for lost time, he reasons.

he knew you two weren’t soulmates, he saw it once more the supposedly fated day he met you again for the second time.

still, he doesn’t think he could be with anyone else but you. riki knows in his heart you’re the only one for him. he stares at his own red string leading off into the unknown distance. even if the universe said otherwise.

even if the universe said otherwise, he didn’t want to lose you again.

the vip landyards you got for entering the venue backstage weren’t vip after all.

one good thing about riki’s job was the free access to public events, obviously to capture the best photos. but on this occasion, you two were denied access for no particular reason.

no matter how much riki demanded, the even taller and intimidating body guards wouldn’t budge.

“it’s fine,” you place a hand on riki’s shoulder to calm him. “we can just go through the front. i bet someone will be willing to listen to us there.”

you know riki wants to argue more but you give him a look and he concedes.

the crowd was wilder than you thought though. mainly due to it being some group called oncolon or whatever performing. navigating through the huge crowd, riki suddenly takes your hand tightly.

you almost trip over some person’s foot, glancing at him with wide eyes and a slight blush. he doesn’t say a single word.

you’re sure you’ve gotten knocked and pushed several times in the wild crowd. you try your best to keep up, but at some point, too many bodies separate you and riki.

a rather hard shove causes you to lose your balance, falling onto the ground (with a painful jolt up your butt).

all you can hear is the booming music for a moment and the flashing lights, until a hand suddenly reaches through. you almost don’t notice it at first until you hear your name being called.

suddenly you’re being pulled up forward, into sturdy arms.

“are you okay? sorry i lost you-“

when you see that it’s riki, dark orbs filled with concerned as he speaks, you nod dumbly while zoning the rest of his words out.

you couldn’t really concentrate, not when you were trying to process the fluttering of your heart and his body oh so close to yours.

but oh no, it doesn’t stop there.

it was rather sudden—you called riki over to your desk to ask for his opinion some time later.

“should i lower the exposure more? i know you were going for a darker look since it fits the concept-?”

what you don’t expect is him to lean a little too close to comfort over you and your desk to reach the computer. even more, you don’t expect his hand to cover yours over the mouse as he clicks a few things.

all you do is hold your breath but you can still smell him faintly, a comforting and familiar scent. your eyes almost flutter shut.

suppressed feelings are coming back. coming back to haunt you for good.

it does indeed feel a little too good to be true. you feel so giddy around riki, like a high schooler experiencing their first love. but you never got to.

it felt like you were getting to reexperience your teenage years properly with riki—how it should’ve gone. but it’s a little different. it feels a little too different. you want to blame it on the fact that you guys are older and you overthink things, but the feelings and emotions inside you say otherwise.

v. the thin line between love and hate.

you startle at the sudden coffee placed in front of you, by a bashful riki.

“hm? what’s this for?”

he scratches the back of his head, “you’ve been working so hard lately, too much for an intern. i don’t want to be known as the guy who overworks the newbies.”

the warming of your heart falls flat.

“ha ha ha,” you laugh dryly. “thank you though.”

before he leaves you to continue your work, he adds, “don’t forget to eat too. i brought some lunch for you in the fridge.”

you don’t fight off the dumb smile on your face when you open the community fridge to see a packaged lunch with a sticky note on top reading,

y/n’s only!! no touching!! (please and thank you)

in someone’s very familiar handwriting that hadn’t changed at all since middle school.

still, you don’t know how you haven’t gotten fired yet. you tried your best to maintain a professional relationship at work, yet the amount of jokes and ridiculous faces riki made was going to be the death of you.

he manages to get a choked sound out of you as you put your head down in an attempt to hold back your laughter. he only looks on proudly when you try your best to chide him.

“focus, riki!”

“how can i focus when his feet smell from across the roo-“

you place a finger over his soft lips, eyes raising from them to his innocent (yet deadly) looking gaze.

“stop disturbing the others!” you scold.

“i think you should tell his feet that.”

you stare at each other blankly for a second or two, your eyes flicking to the man’s shoes across the room, before you both can’t help but bursting into a silent fit of laughter.

meanwhile everyone else looks on, confused but starting to get used to the two of you at this point.

as riki admires your face full of glee, he thinks there couldn’t have been anything better.

maybe he should’ve known the universe wouldn’t let him off that easy.

you’re on the way home from work when you receive a message from riki. he asks for you to stop by the store to grab him ice cream, and you roll your eyes.

you already knew what that meant. anime night at riki’s place although his deadline was the next day.

when he sends the begging emojis, you sigh and change routes to the nearest mart. you couldn’t resist him, even if you wanted to.

you’re browsing the aisles, adding more and more snacks that you really didn’t need but you knew would make riki (and by default—you) happy.

as you reach for the bungeobbang snack, you don’t notice the hand that grabs it at the same time. a shock courses through you for a split second, and you pull your hand back.

“sorry…”

you glance at the figure. and you cock your head.

a distinct pair of eyes blink back at you.

wait a second…

“no way. yang jungwon?”

his mouth drops open. “y/n? it’s been years!”

you nod, almost laughing at the complete turn of events. “i can’t believe it either. what are you doing here?”

it turns out jungwon was in town for work, as per a client's request. he had also grown up a lot and changed much more than you expected.

he was still the same, handsome and charming jungwon. but he had definitely matured and you found yourself enjoying the catching-up talk with him. to the point where you lost track of time.

only was it until you see riki’s name light up your phone do you remember. you scramble to get your things (and probably melted ice cream).

“sorry jungwon, i have to get going.”

he gets up to help you gather your things. you can’t help but notice the warmth of his hand lingering on yours when he passes you the last grocery bag.

“it was really nice to see you again. do you maybe want to keep in touch?”

you only nod at his hopeful eyes. “of course! we can exchange numbers and meet up again while you’re still here.”

feeling strangely light on your way to riki’s place, the guilt hits you when you are greeted by riki’s worried face.

“what took so long?”

you think about jungwon and cringe internally. you don’t think you have the heart to tell riki. not today.

-Is what you keep telling yourself. days, and days after that first encounter. you just don’t know how to bring it up to riki, or when. after everything that happened,

you don’t think you can’t risk it. not when you just got your riki back.

you’re surprised at how often jungwon texts you. maybe he was still the same jungwon after all, still wanting to hang out with you all the time like back in the old days.

but this time, you had no reason to object. again, guilt washes over you as you respond to his text before looking over at a focused riki.

just once wouldn’t hurt, you manage to convince yourself.

it’s not like riki would care that much anyways. the past was the past and things were different now. why would he care if you hung out with another guy?

it’s not like he liked you… right?

you repeat that to yourself everyday. everyday that riki greets you with that adoring face of his. everyday that he teases you, makes you laugh, and helps you through all the hard times.

even the day that you thought he was going to kiss you. when he reached over you to grab the remote, but he didn’t go back to his spot. he stayed hovering over you, faces inches apart.

and he stared at you, into you, with those eyes that he always looked at you with.

yet riki didn’t do anything. he didn’t make a single move, so that means it should be fine if you met jungwon just this once?

even so, you get off work early, rushing to get home and prepare. you brush off riki’s reminder of him stopping by your house later to return your jacket he borrowed. how it fit him, you still don’t know.

even more you don’t know is why you feel pressured to dress up nice and prepare, just to see jungwon. it was just a simple catch up with him. it wasn’t like you were going to keep seeing him after that. it wasn’t a date of any sort…

jungwon pulls out the chair and you awkwardly sit down and thank him.

ok so maybe you should have dated in high school, just so you wouldn’t have been so clueless now.

it wasn’t a date. you know it wasn’t. and you keep repeating it to yourself.

maybe jungwon notices your stiffness, because he compliments your outfit.

“you look really nice.”

“thanks,” you smile, “so do you.”

“i didn’t know what places were good in this area, but i liked this cafe so i thought it would be a good place for us to talk!”

you’ve always admired jungwon’s thoughtfulness. or rather, been jealous. there was only one other person who could compete with him on that: nishimura riki.

again, time passes you as you spend the night with him. it’s quite dark out when you realize you should get going.

jungwon being ever the gentleman offers to walk you home. he also lends you his jacket, which you have no choice but to accept both his offers. it would end on an awkward note if you rejected him—which you didn’t want—so you decide to bear with it just this once.

jungwon was simply a cool and fun person to hang out with anyway, so you had no complaints. you trusted him naturally.

it was all fine until you reached the outside of your apartment.

you certainly weren’t expecting to see riki waiting outside your door, looking visibly and obviously upset. your feet come to a halt.

you completely forgot.

jungwon grabs your arm suddenly. “is that niki?”

you see the expression on riki’s face visibly change, and you rush to explain yourself.

“riki, please let me-“

ignoring jungwon, the coldness emanating from riki physically makes you shiver.

“we need to talk.”

you bite your lip.

“jungwon, i… think you should go.”

he complies when you ask once more, but not without a concerned request to contact him later.

even with jungwon gone, riki still looks like he’s about to get attacked, threatened and rigid.

you call out his name quietly, “can we at least go inside first?”

you reach for his hand but he pulls away before heading in. fair, you think.

“-i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier, but it was a sudden decision.”

“i still don’t get why you didn’t tell me,” he snaps.

you don’t like the way this is heading. and you both know where it was going to go. “it was just one small hangout, we were only catching up,” you frown.

“but you know how i feel about him! you should have told me-“

you feel your anger rise as well as you get to your feet.

“do i have an obligation to tell you? why is a fight that happened over ten years ago still such a big deal? what’s your issue with jungwon?”

you cross your arms, facing an agitated riki.

“nevermind that. why can’t you just tell me what happened back then?!”

the silence, accompanied by the sound of your mixed heavy breaths, leave you weary. you pinch the space between your eyebrows.

“riki-“ you reach out for him but he pulls away. he’s doing it once again.

it hurts more than you thought. “fine. if you’re not going to say anything, then i think you should just leave.”

and you don’t object when he listens to your suggestion, without a second glance back.

it felt like deja vu, seeing him leave just as he did before.

it’s been days since you last talked to riki, let alone spared a glance in his direction. work was awkward enough, just like it had been the first week you came.

how could your relationship turn back to strangers so suddenly? did riki not care?

if anything, he cared too much—but you would have never known.

it’s hard to work next to him, be near him without the unspoken feelings rising up. a hand brushing his when he passed you papers almost felt like it was burning you. riki noticed how you would flinch away, every time.

it didn’t matter. your internship was coming to an end, and you were already preparing yourself to leave.

maybe this was just a sign from the universe telling you that you and riki were meant to be apart. that you weren’t meant to be together after all.

you loved the area, company, office environment and just about everything else. it should’ve been perfect.

but you don’t know if you can stand working here, staying here and living here,

knowing that riki is right around the corner, carrying your heart without a second thought.

the power that he holds, the fact that he’s able to break your heart in the matter of seconds or make you smile like the happiest person in the world, it’s just too scary for you to handle.

you’re already planning to head back home and stay with your parents for a little until you get things figured out again.

you still had tickets to a small festival at the nearby plaza that you planned to go with riki, but that certainly wasn’t happening anymore.

you didn’t want the second ticket to go to waste, so in your lostness and desperation (and several rejections by coworkers), you asked jungwon. you were leaving soon and didn’t know when the next time you would see him was.

you greet him with a halfhearted smile, and he gestures for you guys to get closer to the stage to get a better view. but there’s a big crowd, and you stumble over an arm or leg or something.

for some reason, you expect him to be there and help you up. like someone else did in a strangely familiar situation.

but there’s no one. nothing except the crowd of bodies that’s starting to get a little too overwhelming.

for the first time, you wish to the universe for one thing. you wish you had riki again, with you by your side.

it’s then you realize you’ve been thinking about him the whole time. he who’s been the one always to pick you back up. he was always there for you.

you know, you need to do something before you leave. you can’t handle leaving things like this.

you plan to, however, the next day is the last day of your internship and some of the kind workers surprised the interns with a small going away party. it’s bittersweet, especially when everyone assumes you’re getting hired for an official position due to your exceptional work, and another person.

you were grateful for everyone who planned and showed up. but there was one person who didn’t that you kept looking for. everyone knows who, but no one knows why.

at the end of the day, you make your way back to riki’s office in order to pack up your stuff.

you take one last glance around the room and all of its memories. leaving this place felt like leaving riki behind as well.

you were grateful that you got the chance to see him once more. you were beginning to accept that this was the end.

putting all your stuff in boxes, you frown while wondering where your compartment desk key was. maybe riki mistakenly took yours instead of his?

you open various drawers, rummaging around. but when you get to the bottommost drawer, your heart stops.

it’s only a plain cream folder, but what’s written on it takes your breath away.

just your name.

photos and photos of you, beautifully crafted and arranged together. it’s riki’s work, you know that for sure. memories spanning your entire internship—from the first day to the last time you talked to him.

you don’t know when and how he took these photos. or when tears fell down your cheeks.

you hastily rub the wetness away, sniffling as you close the folder and continue your search. now wasn’t the time to get sentimental.

it would be alright, because you planned on finding riki the next day before you left. it was too late today, and you needed to finish packing. you just wanted one last chance to say everything you wanted to before going.

you have to because you feel it deep within, tugging at your heartstrings.

it’s about 1am when you finish packing. you don’t even want to think about the time you need to get up, nor the fact that you still had to find a way to see riki.

you zip up the last luggage when the doorbell rings. who in the world would be at your door this late? you consider grabbing some sort of weapon, but decide against it for the time being.

you nervously peek through the peephole, before throwing the door open.

“r-riki?”

you’re more shocked that he was crying than him even showing up at your place.

riki almost lunges forward, trapping you in his arms. he hiccups and you feel a pang in your chest.

“y/n- please- just please, will you forgive me?”

“what?” you breathe out. you couldn’t even process the situation.

“please. never leave me.”

“what? why would i ever?” you comfortingly bring a hand to rub his back. it takes a little bit to soothe him, and he speaks again when you feel his erratic breathing has calmed and his body relaxes.

“i’m so scared to lose you again,” he whispers shakily. you soften, pulling back to see his red eyes and nose.

“riki, please tell me what’s going on.” he knows immediately what you mean.

you reach up to wipe the corners of his eyes and the side of his face gently. he closes his eyes at the feeling, to go back into time.

honestly, he remembers that day as if it was just yesterday. it was a day that haunted him up until now.

riki always knew then. maybe you weren’t aware but he definitely was.

yang jungwon liked you. it was obvious.

riki could see it—physically too. that cursed red string mocked him everyday he saw you two in class.

riki knew jungwon could feel it too. you were too close to riki and everyone knew that. jungwon knew, and he didn’t care.

it was raining, as riki recalled many times over and over again. he was alone while waiting for you to finish class. riki was alone until jungwon and his group of friends approached him.

jungwon knew about his power. he said his father worked for the government, worked with riki. riki suddenly thought of one of the head scientists and his eyes, strikingly similar to jungwon’s.

so that was his father, he remembers thinking.

riki never liked him.

regardless, jungwon asked if riki could see your string. just like the others. riki chooses not to answer as always, but jungwon naturally got on his nerves.

riki remembers the exact words.

“if you two aren’t dating, does that mean you aren’t soulmates? you would’ve asked y/n out already if you were, am i right?”

at that, riki’s blood began to boil. but he couldn’t do anything. mainly because jungwon was right. and it infuriated riki.

jungwon laughed. “then… i can ask y/n out? since you guys aren’t soulmates?”

riki doesn’t remember the next part. maybe he blacked out or chose to erase it from his memory. but apparently, he punched jungwon. he snapped for the first time.

riki opens his eyes again slowly, seeing your heartfelt gaze on him and him only.

he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice when he speaks. it sounded too quiet. too defeated. like he was already accepting his loss.

”you’re jungwon’s soulmate. not mine.”

he glances down at your pinky. it had been a while since he saw your red string, let alone anyone else’s.

“no matter how much i wished your red string was connected to mine, it wasn’t.”

at some point, riki assumed his string had no other person it was attached to, because he had never met anyone who made him feel like how you did. no one else made him as happy, as sad, or as loved as you did.

riki knew if he had a soulmate, it would have been you and only you.

“i-i was upset when you saw jungwon again that you would fall in love with him. and leave me.”

it was a lot to process. you know and he knows. it wasn’t what you were expecting, but you were fine with that.

when you call out his name, your hands reach to the sides of his face to guide them to look at you. you take a deep breath.

“i’ve always loved you.”

and exhale.

“jungwon was never on my mind, only you’ve been. even after all this time-”

abruptly, riki reached forward to kiss you harshly and you instantly reciprocate it. your hands tighten around his neck while his come to wrap around your waist, naturally.

you just can’t seem to let each other go.

you ask jungwon to meet up with one last time before he leaves, at the same cafe he suggested last time.

you comment on the nice weather and he agrees. you fiddle with your fingers.

“this is a bit random, but do you believe in soulmates?”

jungwon looks confused but he says, “yeah. from what i’ve heard, i think so?”

your eyes narrow. “even if two people are soulmates, do you think they can love different people?”

“y/n, where is this-“

“answer the question and i’ll explain. i promise.”

he scratches his head, “i… i suppose so?”

“and if two people aren’t soulmates, do you think that they can love each other?” you continue.

“sure. but i don’t get why you’re asking-“

ignoring him, you nod thoughtfully. “okay.”

he opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand.

“i just wanted to say it was nice seeing you again.”

he looks a bit surprised.

“me too. i enjoyed the time we spent together. i know that i’m leaving soon and this is a bit sudden, but do you want to see each other again-?”

you sigh, looking out the window again.

“i’m sorry, but i don’t think that’s possible. i hope the rest of your life goes well as you want it to, yang jungwon.”

he nods solemnly. “it’s because you’re with niki, right?” he smiles at your shocked expression. “i figured since he was outside your place. no harm in shooting my shot. but wow, you guys really found each other again.”

you don’t know what to say so you just nod.

“tell him that i’m sorry for what i said in the past and that i wish him the best too.” he gets up from his chair, prompting you too as well.

“we can still be friends, of course,” you rush to add.

jungwon laughs, “it’s alright. i should get over you first before considering a friendship.”

“maybe in another life. we get along too well,” you joke. he laughs too and you know it’s not forced.

“come on, i’ll walk you home.”

you stare at jungwon’s side profile during the walk, as he speaks about random topics and leads the way back.

it’s strange, imagining him as your soulmate. it was weird imagining a life with anyone else but riki. although yang jungwon may be your soulmate, he’s not the one that you want. that’s okay.

when he drops you off, riki opens the door. you’re hesitant, but you see the two give a final nod to each other. jungwon leaves without a glance back, and riki closes the door.

“how was it?”

you lean in to peck his lips. “good. better than i expected, to be honest. now can we start the movie? i was waiting for this all day.”

riki smiles as you take off your shoes and get ready for a night in with him. he glances at your matching gold chain bracelets that he bought recently, a promise for the future. just as riki wanted.

riki doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future. all he knows is that he’ll be with you forever, red string or not.

that night, he realized he couldn’t give up on you. not again. he would fight like he did before and choose his own destiny.

because the only destiny he had was one with you.

nishimura riki couldn’t see the end of his string. he probably never would. and he didn’t want to. it didn’t matter, after all. now, he looks back at your hands and imagines a perfect little knot in the middle connecting both your red strings.

and he smiles.

hi it’s jae again—thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it as i put a lot of work and effort into it (my longest one shot so far skxnksdnj so pls excuse mistakes/typos if i missed some) actually it hurt to write won as the “bad guy” but i couldn’t think of anyone else close enough to fit the role lol. anyways that’s all, just wanted to say that i’m thankful for all the love, comments, rbs, and support i receive as it keeps me going to write more. i truly do appreciate all 1.2k and more followers, see you guys again in the next works coming soon ;)

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haosweater · 7 months

Text

crimson white snow

content: seongjoong x gn! reader, angst, soulmate au, hanahaki au. warnings: profanities, descriptions of throwing up, mention of blood.

summary: when your best friends are each other’s soulmates, how do you tell them that your red string is tied to both of their pinkies?

word count: 4.3k words

note: this initial idea came to me in 2021 and i let it collecting dust until a few days ago lol. i hope you guys enjoy this one!

in a friendship– a trio, specifically, you believed that each person represented either the sun, moon, or stars.

in your case, seonghwa was the sun, hongjoong was the moon, and you were the stars. the three, inseparable friends who loved each other more than anyone else to ever breathe on earth.

but when they all turned sixteen and were blessed with the gift of the sight of their red strings, everything changed.

when seonghwa looked down at his ring finger, candles blown out, he found the red string to be very much shorter than he expected. as his eyes trailed down the string, he looked up at hongjoong, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.

that’s when you all knew.

hongjoong’s birthday came around, and the sight of his red string connected to seonghwa relieved him. there was a sort of euphoria and satisfaction that filled them both. unspoken feelings that had blossomed into something more were now affirmed by the universe itself.

you, of course, were elated. the two boys you’d considered your best friends for years were soulmates. their souls were intertwined, bound to love each other for eternity. the twinge of jealousy in your heart was quickly ignored as you celebrated their love, congratulating the two.

most, would call it fate.

but your birthday confirmed that whatever god there was had made a mistake. a very horribly, big mistake.

it was snowing.

you remember because hongjoong was flushed when he came in your room. he only turned red– both cheeks and ears, when he was embarrassed or cold.

he sighed, promptly making himself at home. laying on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath tickled your ear. you shivered, your grip on his hand tightening promptly. he didn’t mind. hongjoong liked holding your hands strangely enough.

“i know it’s your birthday,” hongjoong mumbled, snuggling against you. “but you’ll indulge me for a bit, yeah?” he asks as you chuckle.

“of course, joong. anything for you.”

the boy hums in satisfaction, letting out a soft sigh. he shuts his eyes, mumbling about how seonghwa was late because he got delayed at his club, or something along those lines.

you hum in acknowledgement, knowing that your other friend was definitely getting you a cake. you’d overheard the two discussing it a week prior.

the soft footsteps that grew closer alerted you of seonghwa’s arrival. it was funny– while hwa was indeed very quiet, the sound of his socks against your wooden floor was unmistakable.

hongjoong yawned, sitting up. the soft knock you anticipated came as you chuckled. “come in, hwa.”

the sight of seonghwa pouting as he entered made you laugh even harder. “how’d you know it was me?” he asked, carefully balancing the cake box as he closed the door. “it was joong, wasn’t it?”

“hey man, i didn’t say anything,” he raised his hands, proclaiming his innocence.

“you both aren’t that slick, you know,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. seonghwa laughs at your reaction, putting a smile on your face.

“humour us, sweetheart?”

you pretend to contemplate, humming as joong cackled beside you. “hmm, i’ll cut you both some slack,” you announce. hwa rolls his eyes, but the grin on his face speaks volumes.

turning your attention to the box, you watch as seonghwa opens it, taking out the most beautiful cake you had ever seen. “oh my god,” you marvelled at the sight of it.

the heart-shaped cake was pure white, similar to the snow that fluttered down outside. the crimson red icing that decorated he cake made you smile. it was a beautiful cake, an image that would be etched into your memory forever.

“this is beautiful, seonghwa,” you whisper, glancing up at him. “thank you.”

he smiles back, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “anything for you sweetheart. we know how much you’ve been waiting for this day.”

you sat in front of your cake, hongjoong and seonghwa across you with the biggest smiles on their face. blowing the candles out, you look down at your hands, filled with excitement. finally, it was your turn to find out who your soulmate was. however, when you look down, you are stunned.

to your complete and utter horror, you see two strings tied around each of your pinkies.

eyes gazing down at the crimson red string, you nearly choke on air when you see one end tied to seonghwa’s pinky, while the other, was neatly wrapped around hongjoong’s.

“what’s wrong?”

seonghwa’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts. you felt sick to your stomach. oh, how cruel the universe was. how cruel fate was.

“i- i… what the fuck?” you whisper harshly, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes. “i don’t have a string,” you lie so easily, straight through your teeth. “i don’t have a soulmate.” you lied so well.

that was the first lie you ever told the two, but there was no guilt in the lie. all you could feel was confusion and anger. nothing else.

hongjoong takes your hands into his with a sad smile. “and that’s completely fine, y/n. we’re always here for you,” he reassures you calmly. seonghwa does the same and you feel like crying even harder as you see your strings tangle.

you relished in their touch, their fingers feel so soft, skin warm against your cold hands. you felt safe in their presence, the comforting aura they let out never failing to make you smile. it was bittersweet.

if only you didn’t detest the sight of the red strings around their pinkies. the crimson red thread, a painful reminder to you that this was a reality you couldn’t escape.

there were always myths about the poor souls that the universe decided to curse: the one’s with no soulmates.

if people with no soulmates were cursed by the universe, how about the one’s with two? how about the one’s whose soulmates were each other’s forever, but not theirs? how about you?

you didn’t know.

so you left.

after graduating, you moved overseas. of course the two were there to wish you goodbye. being friends for thirteen years made it harder for you to leave.

you chuckled as seonghwa engulfed you in a tight hug, his tears soaking into your jacket. “don’t cry,” you whisper, stroking his head as hongjoong holds back his own tears, lips trembling. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

that was the second lie you ever told them, but there was no guilt in the lie. all you could feel was pity and self-hatred. nothing else.

you started a new life for yourself, burying yourself in studies, jobs and everything you could imagine to avoid going home.

despite all that, you never felt satisfied. there was this hole inside your heart that couldn’t be filled with materialistic goods, academic achievements nor work-place success.

there was nothing that could fill that hole seonghwa and hongjoong once occupied in your heart.

another problem had presented itself through all that turmoil, however, and that was the disease of unrequited love everyone so detested.

one would certainly think flowers were a congratulatory gift .

it started as a tightening feeling in your chest. your once light pants turn into desperate gasps for air before a sick, nauseous feeling takes over. a pounding headache, blurry vision, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes before the most sickening feeling begins to build in the pit of your stomach.

it grows and grows, bubbling like a cauldron before exploding, petals flying out of your mouth. elegantly prancing through the air, crimson red blood dripped off the petals, staining the pure white marble floor. the feeling would go on for another half an hour, or even longer. all you knew was that you wanted it to stop.

years passed, and yet, you could never grow accustomed to the wretched, metallic taste that lingered fervently on the tip of your tongue.

lilies and black dahlias now littered your bathroom floor, the once white marble tiles now painted in a mix of white, black, and crimson red.

still, you told nobody. your friends, family, coworkers– none of them knew about what you were going through.

god forbid hongjoong and seonghwa find out.

on a cold winter’s night, you had gotten an unexpected call from the two. five years had passed and not once had you gone back to see them.

guilt haunted you, always hovering around and never truly leaving. you wanted to see them. you wanted so desperately to throw yourself into their arms and never let them go them. if you were to loosen your grip, perhaps they’d slip through the cracks of your grasp and fade into nothingness.

you wanted to keep hongjoong and seonghwa for youself forever, but you were a fucking coward.

your phone rang. you had propped it up against the potted plant (orchids, your favourite) in the middle of your dining table. the plate of pasta in front of you was warm when you clicked your screen to receive their call.

“hi guys, sorry i’ve been so busy, work’s been crazy!” you immediately spew an apology to your friends, twirling the pasta with your fork. their lack of response has you confused and you look up. a loud gasp escapes you, fork clattering against the ceramic plate as it slipped out of your grasp.

“what the fuck?”

seonghwa’s ring finger is adorned with a beautiful sapphire stone, simple yet utterly gorgeous. the grin on both of their faces has you gaping at them, utterly speechless.

“you- you’re?” your gaze switches between the two males. you were so shocked you didn’t even realise seonghwa had bleached his hair. you were so shocked you didn’t even realise the tears that began to roll down your flushed cheeks.

“oh, no, y/n,” seonghwa coos with a frown. “don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispers. “don’t cry.”

you sob, desperately trying to wipe the tears away. “i’m sorry, oh my god,” you inhale a sharp breath. “i’m so happy for you both– congratulations!” you smile, trying to hold back the building feeling in your chest.

seonghwa’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes soften. “thank you darling,” he whispers with a sad smile. “you were the first person we thought of telling, y’know?” he chuckles softly.

god, seonghwa looked so beautiful smiling. you always loved how rosy his cheeks were, his eyes scrunched into the crescent moon. seonghwa’s smile was radiant, shining even brighter than the sun itself.

hongjoong takes the phone, eyes twinkling under the night sky. you recognised his apartment’s balcony all too well. “come home, y/n,” he says softly. it’s the most tender you’ve ever heard him. “come home for us please?”

your heart breaks. you’d never heard hongjoong so desperate. he was longing, yearning for you. he was pleading for you to come home– how could you refuse the request of your soulmate?

“of course, joong. anything for you.”

when the call ends, you run to your bathroom. you can feel the rising of petals, the all too familiar pain scratching your throat.

your knees hit the cold, marble flower, head hanging over the toilet bowl as you hurl out petals and vines. they scratch your throat, a permanent reminder of the unrequited love you faced.

the white and black petals scattered across the floor, blood dripping off them. it was a beautifully gruesome scene, like something out of an artistic horror movie.

you slump against the cold wall of your bathroom with a groan, wiping the blood dripping from the corner of your mouth. how you were going to be able to hide this from them? you had no idea.

unfortunately, you still hadn’t one when you walked out your gate.

it was a cold, cold day. you had a sweater on, hoodie layered over it for the extra warmth. palms clammy and sweaty, you gripped your bag tightly. god forbid hongjoong and seonghwa recognise you before you were emotionally and mentally prepared to see them for the first time in six years.

had they grown taller? were they as youthful as they once were? has their smiles stayed the same? had their voices deepened? did they still have the same dreadfully boring style? did they still wear the same cologne that clung to their clothes back then? were the bracelets you made them still sitting on their wrist all so beautifully? had–

“y/n!”

you jump at the shout of your name, looking up in shock. in front of you, just standing a few feet away, were kim hongjoong and park seonghwa.

eyes glistening with surprise, you look at them, voice stuck in the back of your throat. oh god, they looked so beautiful.

hongjoong hadn’t grown much, but he stood with confidence. his dark hair looked soft and silky, eyes bright and filled with twinkling stars. his cheeks stayed plump and full of life, a dusty pink that made you want to kiss them.

apart from seonghwa’s bleached hair, the next most obvious change was his height. he had grown almost a head taller, and yet, the sparkle in his eyes had remained. his cheeks were rosy, pink, plump lips curled into a bright, ethereal smile.

you feel years of emotions come crashing down on you. sadness, regret, pain, guilt— love. you burst into tears, wrapping your arms around the two men (not boys, you had to remind yourself).

“i’m sorry,” you apologise as hongjoong starts to cry, wrapping his arms around you. “i’m sorry joong, i’m sorry,” you buried your face into the crook of his neck, sobbing.

seonghwa comforted you with tears in his eyes, patting your head gently as he whispered sweet nothings to you. it seemed like deja vu to you, the whole scenario. if you hadn’t inhaled that sweet, floral scent that haw always wore that was mixed with the woody, musky scent hongjoong did, you’d think it all a dream.

as snow began to fall outside, the warmth radiating off the bodies of your soulmates made you realise how harsh this winter would be.

harsh it was indeed.

you’re about to pull your hair out before the ceremony begins. chewing at your bottom lip, your eyes dart around the venue, mind racing faster than you can comprehend.

“y/n.”

hongjoong’s voice sounds eerily deeper than you were used to. it sent shivers down your spine which made him laugh. “what’s wrong with you?” he asks in a cheeky manner as you huff.

“don’t blame me for not being used to your voice,” you lament, resting your elbow on his shoulder out of habit. “i still can’t believe how much you’ve changed.”

you look at the man with a grin and take note of the suit he’s wearing. it’s tailored to fit him perfectly, the details on it intricate and beautiful. the embroidered sun and stars, flowers and snowflakes adorned his clothing. you loved how he and seonghwa had gotten both their suits modified to have a more personal touch to them. it was artistic, elegant yet somewhat nostalgic.

the man sighs, glancing up at you. “it has been almost six years since we last saw each other,” he reminds you.

your body stiffens, rigid and filled with guilt. hongjoong notices this and frowns. “i didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says and you nod.

you knew that. you knew that hongjoong wasn’t holding it against you, but you were holding it against yourself. the file was eating out you inside out, like a parasite clawing at your skin and tearing your flesh from bone.

“hey, y/n,” he says softly, hand reaching out to grab yours. “it’s okay,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with the most soft and genuine smile. “it’s okay.”

you nod again and he pulls you in for a hug. hongjoong’s embrace had always felt so safe. you feel yourself melt into it, and if you had closed your eyes, the both of you would’ve been sixteen all over again.

“i love you, y/n,” hongjoong whispers as your eyes widen with surprise. hongjoong had never told you that before. “never forget that,” he pulls away with a wink before bidding you goodbye and going to greet his coworkers.

you stood there, still stunned by his words. your heart was screaming, yelling at you for being so foolish as to not have said it back. however, ‘i am so painfully and desperately in love with you, kim hongjoong’ seemed a bit hard to shout back in the setting you were currently in.

“now, what on earth could you be thinking about right this moment that isn’t related to your two boyfriends?”

you’re snapped out of your thoughts by a warm, teasing voice. “yunho,” you smile at the blonde man who’s dressed nicely in a suit. “glad you could make it,” you lean in and hug him tightly. “haven’t seen you since high school.”

he chuckles. “yeah, you left right after graduation– i couldn’t make it to see you off,” he feigns a frown as you laugh, slapping his shoulder. “and please, as if hongjoong would let me live it down if i didn’t come,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at the oh-so-true statement. “you okay?”

“huh?” you look at him confused. “why wouldn’t i be okay?”

yunho shrugs. before you can question him further, you are distracted by yeosang’s mint hair. he walks over with a smile, waving at you. “what’s with that look on your face?”

you huff. “yunho asked me if i was okay and won’t tell me why he suspects otherwise,” you grumble as yeosang’s eyes widen. he shoots the taller male a flare and you stare at him in shock. “is there something i should be worried about?”

yeosang sighs. “well,” he begins, pausing as he pondered silently. “you have to promise not to take this badly,” he warns as yunho sends him a worried look. you nod slowly, anxiety filling you like water gushing into an empty bottle.

“you see, back when we were all in high school,” he begins hesitantly. “we all thought you had a crush on either joong or hwa,” he says as you feel your heart sink into the out of your stomach. “but we didn’t speculate, of course.”

you brush it off with a scoff. “me? like them?” you fake a laugh. “never. they…” you train off, looking at hongjoong who’s smiling from ear to ear, cheeks a rosy pink.

it’s oddly bittersweet to see the boy you once bickered with in elementary school now getting married to the boy that snuck jellies to you in class. turning back, you give yeosang a sad smile. “they’re made for each other.”

after greeting the rest of your old friends (and stopping wooyoung and san from crying before the wedding actually started), you leave the garden to visit seonghwa in his private suite.

one of seonghwa’s many request was for you to walk him down the aisle. it was sickening masochistic for you to accept the proposition, now that you thought about it. then again, who were you to back out now?

one, two, three knocks.

“come in,” seonghwa’s silky smooth and sweet voice fills your ears. you tap your keycard, opening the door gently. “hello sweetheart.”

you feel your cheeks warm up, heart fluttering. “hey, hwa,” you whisper, taking in how gorgeous he looked. adorned in a white suit, flowers, clouds, the moon and stars embroidered on the sleeves, the inner mesh material iridescent. “you’re breathtaking. like an angel.”

seonghwa’s cheek turn a darker shade of pink as he clears his throat. “thank you,” he whispers as you giggle, holding his hands. your thumbs traced his knuckles, admiring how slim and long his fingers were. “we missed you so much, y’know?”

you didn’t dare look up and remained silent. “we didn’t know how to go on with life as usual without you by our side,” he hummed with a small smile. “but i don’t care about all that now. i’m just glad you decided to come home.”

home.

you felt the pit of your stomach churn (you were certain it was your heart). to you, hongjoong and seonghwa were home. no matter how long you stayed in your chic studio apartment overseas, it never felt right.

hongjoong and seonghwa’s embrace did. it felt warm, comforting, lovely. you had to promise yourself to not get too attached to it.

“i’m sorry,” is all you can find yourself saying and thinking. “i’m sorry, hwa.”

seonghwa hushes you, his fingers brushing against your skin ever-so gently. he tucks your hair behind your ear with a smile. “it’s okay, y/n,” he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “you’re here now. that’s what matters.”

you wrap your arms around the blonde, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “i love you both so much,” you confess (unbeknownst to him). “i love you, park seonghwa and i am so happy for you.”

he smiles, hugging you back as a tear slips down his cheek slowly. “i love you too, y/n. i love you so much.”

relishing in the moment, you’re determined to make sure their wedding was perfect. you were going to push aside all personal feelings, ignore all the pain and sadness, and make sure that seonghwa and hongjoong had the best day of their life.

you were certain that nothing was going to go wrong that day.

oh, how wrong you were.

“i’m sorry, i can’t do this.”

seonghwa’s voice is soft, but audible. your head snaps up so fast, your neck could’ve broken. to be honest, you weren’t particularly paying attention to whatever the officiant was saying, assuming that both men were going to say ‘yes’ immediately.

you furrowed your brows in confusion, the gasps around you loud. lifting your head to look at the man, you find that he’s already looking at you.

“what are you doing?” you mouth, gasping softly at the sight of tears rolling down the blonde’s cheeks. “don’t cry,” you whisper, frowning at the male.

seonghwa turns his attention back to hongjoong, pain and regret in his eyes. “i can’t lie to you, joong. i can’t lie to you and say that i love only you.”

a sinking, disgusting feeling bubbles in your chest as you gripped your forearm tightly. the look on hongjoong’s face tears you down and rips you apart. he looked betrayed, hurt, but somewhere hidden in his eyes, there was a sort of relief.

you didn’t like this.

you didn’t like this at all.

seonghwa turns to look at you and your heart instantly drops. “i can’t lie to you, joong, and say that i’m not still in love with y/n as well.”

the guests gasp in shock once again, eyes wide as they stared at the three of you. an interestingly dramatic turn of events, one would say.

but not for you. the shock on your face couldn’t have been more evident. it felt like your heart had stopped beating and instead froze in time.

had the bleach sunk too deep into his skull? what was he thinking? why was he revealing this now? when did seonghwa realised he felt this way? what the hell was he thinking? had park seonghwa really just said that?

“hwa…” hongjoong looks at him in pain, holding onto seonghwa’s hands tightly. “i can’t lie to you and say that i’m not in love with y/n either.”

with only two sentences, you felt as if your whole world had come crashing down. you stare at the two boys, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes.

“oh my god!”

san and wooyoung’s voices erupted from the crowd as they point towards the two grooms. following their gaze, you gasp at the now visible strings tied around their pinkies.

your gaze followed the strings (as did everyone else’s) and you were utterly horrified to see them tied to your ring finger.

finally, your soulmate strings could be seen.

looking up at your two best friends, shaking, you see the sadness, betrayal and relief written all over their faces. truth be told, it was hard to through a blurry vision. tears streamed down your cheeks, fear gripping you by the throat.

hongjoong stares at you with pain in his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. “we’re your soulmates?”

seonghwa is crying. “and you didn’t tell us? how long have you known?”

you stare at them, words stuck in your throat, refusing to come out.

“did you lie to us on your birthday?” seonghwa seems to come to the realisation. “is this why you chose to lie to us both?” he asked softly, pointing at the two strings. you could only nod.

“is this why you left?” hongjoong seems to not even want to believe his words. “is this why you never came back to visit?”

you nod again.

“why, y/n? why didn’t you tell us?”

you stare at the two men in silence. your voice was stuck in your throat, refusing to come out. a metallic taste filled your mouth and you knew what was coming.

“i—”

and before you could speak, petals flew out of your mouth, blood dripping down your chin as you look up at the two boys.

everyone gasped, staring at the flowers on the ground. lilies and black dahlias soaked in your blood. the very flowers that adorned the wedding venue– hongjoong and seonghwa’s favourites.

you look at your best friends, taking in their looks of pure horror. tears streamed down their cheeks, mouths agape. they’re paralysed in shock.

forcing a smile, you look at them. all the memories began to flood back as your vision grew spotty, your body slowly giving up on you.

god, even when death was knocking on your door, seonghwa and hongjoong still looked angelic.

“i’m sorry.”

and so on this cold, hauntingly beautiful day, crimson red blood soaked into pure white snow: a permanent reminder of the pain of unrequited love.

#seonghwa #hongjoong #mei’s ✍️#park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #ateez #ateez 🎱#ateez fic #ateez angst #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader

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trappolia · 17 days

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IS IT CASUAL NOW? ── ace trappola + gn!reader, 1k

ace trappola has always been a somebody.

he was born a somebody, there is no denying that; not his father's iron fist always reminding him and his older brother that they could not have achieved the comforts they had today without the hard work of his ancestors, nor his mother's soft hands smoothening his messy hair and telling him to always be humble. there is something distinctive to his family name, the consonants twisting around his tongue like the echoes of the eternal city in a dying sunset and the ancient pathways of the foro romano; english nannies and private schools, summers in the afterglow savannah, winters in the north of the shaftlands.

his "first love" is at seventeen, summertime, at the poolside of some seaside village where a distant cousin let him sleep in the spare bedroom. the sun beats down on his nape kissed a hot, angry pink, and he lays on his back for hours and thinks of how the sun can eat him up with her love. he does not remember why or how he kissed you ── beautiful, sunkissed and golden in his memories of that heat wave in july ── but he remembers the mornings after where he awoke to your legs tangled with his beneath thin, cotton sheets as the sun rose in the horizon, skin tingling with sunburn and bruising kisses.

no one asks why you come down together for breakfast in the mornings, or why the mattress underneath the bed is no longer pulled out for someone to sleep on at night. when his nonna mentions how she expected it, considering how attached at the hip you two have been since first year, ace just gives a non-committal hum, and the subject is never brought up again.

when summer ends, ace does not kiss you goodbye. neither of you talk about it either.

this is not to say that you are a nobody, not to ace. he is not so foolish, not so prideful as he was in his youth just two years ago. ace has already shared with you most things that he would not divulge to just anyone; his time, his space, his bed. you are his other half, the same way he is to deuce; the way your little gaggle of troublemakers have tangled themselves in a web made up of a red string of fate. and so neither of you speak about those hot summer months, entangled with each other like pieces of an ambitious puzzle, and life goes on. there is a shift, yes, he feels it in the marks from your nails in long, linear b lines down his back, stolen moments in between classes in dark janitor's closets, your tie and underwear tucked inside his drawer, but nothing has changed. you sleep over, then you're gone by morning for your next class. you see him in the hallway and beam, let him sling his arm around you like you are both still sixteen and first-years in a school that seems so much bigger than the two of you.

you never stay, but ace never loses you.

ace cannot lose you, or at least, he doesn't think he can. he has never lost anything, anybody; not once in his life. people have only been dismissed from his company, or little toys taken away for some time for his misbehaviour.

but he has never lost.

and then winter of third year rolls along, and there is a trembling sense of finality that settles over ace when he sees you studying for what will be your final exams, skin pale without that warm glow months before. he sees you less often, kisses you less often, as even he has to be hidden away indoors, skulking around dark corridors leaves him saturnine and dreading the exam hall and the weight of his pen in his hand. ace goes to bed alone, and even in those few moments where he manages to stay awake before his head hits the pillow, he thinks about how cold the bed is without you.

ace thinks about how this will be the last year the two of you spend together, before you're both inevitably sent off someplace else, surely not together, for your work practice.

and suddenly losing you becomes terrifyingly plausible.

ace doesn't want to be a somebody if it's not with you; he knows this now for certain. he sleeps over at ramshackle when exams are over, but even when you kiss him he cannot help but think: this is the last time, this is the last time, this is the last time—

maybe that's why he swallows when he watches you get dressed the next morning, thinks of your mocking in saccharine sweet just the night before, crooning in his ear: poor, poor ace. always gets what he wants, and the moment he doesn't, he throws a little fit.

that's wrong, ace had wanted to say. he doesn't remember throwing a fit, not once in his entire childhood. and then he looks up at you, divinity in the flesh, hands wrapped around his throat, and he thinks: oh. i've never had anything to lose before you.

“mhm?” you hum when ace wraps his arm around your hips, lazy but firm. his lips press against the curve where your the skin of your waist stretches over your hipbones, that sweet curve. “you want me to call someone to bring breakfast? i think jack can be convinced.”

“mrm,” ace mumbles against the sweet curve of your waist to hip, the single syllable roughly translated to “no, thank you” by your keen sense.

(his sweet darling, his other half)

“what is it?” you coo, running a hand through his messy auburn hair. “c’mon, i agreed to take ruggie’s shift—“

“fuck ruggie, respectfully,” ace grumbles, and he tilts his chin to look up at you, his mahogany eyes soft and sweet and lovely. “stay.”

stay.

he sees your expression falter at the word. he’s never said it to you, not in this context. ace was so foolish to think he could have you without asking, so dumb to even consider that you’d stay for someone you weren’t even officially bound to.

“stay?” you echo, voice small.

“stay with me,” he reiterates, his cheeks beginning to burn. ace sees the corners of your lips tug up, and he thinks he sees you somewhere down the road, making fun of him and his stupidity at your wedding table.

(his heart swells at the thought, endlessly fond)

“yeah?” you’re smiling now. little shit, he thinks in the same breath as: how pretty.

“yeah,” ace exhales, before his heart seizes. “…will you?”

you laugh, and it sounds like summertime and first loves. “obviously, dumbass. i thought you’d never ask.”

(he was foolish to even doubt)

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bidisastersanji · 5 months

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"Zoro gets lost because he uses his red string of fate like a compass- and that's why Sanji always finds him" was one of the first things I posted and now it's real! I got three chapters and here's the first part below the cut. Click here to read it on AO3 if you prefer. each part is around 1.5k words. edit: part 2 here, part 3 here

Zoro has always been a simple man; one of actions over words and of tangible things over what he considers trivial. It’s therefore not surprising that, in a world where certain people are bound by fate, each in their own unique way- some rumoured to share markings on their skin, some with changing eye colours, or even some who feel phantom pains from across the sea- in such a spectacular world, Zoro doesn’t really linger on the red piece of thread tied to his pinky finger.

The red thread hasn’t ever really been a question in his mind, it just was.

As far back as he could remember, it’s just been there, infinitely stretching Northwards, unmoving and unseen by others. Subconsciously, he taught himself to use it as a compass to navigate his home island, Shimotsuki. He never had to remember to take it with him, and it reliably was always stretching in the same direction, which was perfectly convenient with the function he’d ascribed it. His odd way of getting around easily became second nature, a habit so deeply ingrained that he barely gave a second thought to the bright cord on his hand.

---

He’s about eight years old when things change.

The first day Zoro gets lost, he thinks he might’ve missed one of the steps he memorised, jaw tight with repressed irritation at being reprimanded for his lateness to practice.

The second time he gets lost he’s in the forest, thick trees towering over him in all directions, and when the sun starts to lower in the sky, frustration bubbles up in his chest, tight and sour, stinging his eyes, threatening to spill out as he struggles to find his way back to the dojo. They must’ve cut down some trees or something, he scoffs to himself.

The third time he gets lost, he’s pretty certain that someone must be playing a prank on him and moved the garden shed from its usual spot. There’s no other reasonable explanation -short of the shed growing legs- seeing as he’s such a natural at getting around.

From then on, Zoro learns to accept that he lives in a world where people mysteriously move landmarks, buildings and roads around all the time. He tries not to take it too personally, being the target of all these pranks, but he does resent the time he wastes when getting around, as its precious time he could’ve been using to be training. Training to finally beat Kuina.

It takes him weeks to realise that maybe the string on his hand isn’t pointing in the same direction anymore.

Once he does notice, he notes that it periodically moves around- sometimes a bit, sometimes a lot, always right when he starts getting used to it damnit and no his sense of direction is just fine thank you. After the first couple of students at the dojo get their asses handed to them for teasing him about it, adults and children alike learn not to poke fun at the glaring, directionally challenged green-haired boy, no matter how often nor absurdly he gets turn around.

The only person that Zoro reveals his little secret to is Kuina.

He’s eleven, still a head or two shorter than her, and they’re taking a little break from sparring, sharing some homemade onigiri her mom made her. They’re sat in a tree’s shade, a pleasant breeze cooling their overheated skin, and she asks him about his infamously atrocious spatial navigation. He denies it at first, ears heating up in embarrassment, but after a couple more bites he decides if anyone were to know, it would have to be her. His friend. His only best friend.

The young Zoro reveals that he’s not really sure why he gets lost in the first place- he's always relied on the thread- not landmarks or maps, as he’s now learned others do- to tell up from down, but one day it just moved. His north star moved, and has kept on moving these past three years, and he still doesn’t know why, just that it’s a real bother.

“Your... thread?”

“Yeah.” he eagerly stuffs his mouth with more onigiri.

Her eyebrow raises quizzically. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Zoro gestures to his pinky with a tilt of his chin and a wiggle of his finger. “You know. My red string. On my pinky.”

“Zoro, I really don’t. I don’t see anything...” She furrows her brow, thoughtful. “But mom did give me ‘the talk’ last week- maybe this has to do with your soulmate!” Sensing a certain disinterest from her junior, she goes on. “Based on the examples I’ve heard about; I’d say it’s likely that the piece of string on your finger leads to your other half.”

Zoro shrugs lazily. “Sounds like a drag, couldn’t this just be like, my inner compass or somethin’?”

Her eyes crinkle at that, a grin splitting her face from ear-to-ear. “What inner compass, moron? You always get lost. And aren’t you the least bit interested in the person on the other end?” She pokes him in the chest.

“Not really, no.” Zoro tries to brush off the taunt, lips pursed and palming his neck in a nervous tick.

“Ok, think about it this way,” Kuina calls for his attention, “Somewhere out there, on this wide, wide sea- or a faraway island, I guess, there’s someone meant for you. Your person. Your equal. Isn’t that the least bit exciting?”

The young boy’s scowl shifts into something softer, a pout. “I... guess?” He sighs. “I honestly don’t know- all I care about is becoming the best. Right now, Kuina, you’re my goal, you’re who I’m looking to. I don’t really care about this stranger, or fate, or anything like that. I’m gonna make my own destiny.”

Her shoulders shake as she laughs. “Why am I not surprised- Zoro, all you think about are swords and fighting. You’re hopeless. I kind of worry for whoever’s stuck with you-”

“Hey!” his nostrils flare with indignation. “They’re lucky to have me as a soulmate! I’m gonna be so strong- the strongest- and,” he slows down, realising she’d tricked him into caring, just a tiny bit, “a-and they’ll be the happiest soulmate ever ‘cause I’ll protect them.”

She hums in agreement, amused. “And you’ll cherish them, right?”

“Y-yeah...whatever.” he stands up abruptly, eager to change the topic and get back to training. “But my priority is to be the greatest swordsman- and don’t you forget it! I’ll beat you tomorrow for sure!”

After Kuina’s death, thoughts of soulmates and red threads rarely ever cross his mind.

At her funeral, he briefly wonders what’ll become of her soulmate, if she even had one, but it just brings bile to his throat. They’d never even met her- why did they even matter. They were the ones mourning her, the ones robbed of their beloved friend, daughter, rival- they were the ones left behind with a Kuina shaped hole in their chests. The bitter burn distracts from the heavy emptiness he can’t shake off, the cold wetness of grief seeping into his skin. He wholeheartedly leans into the fury, grateful for a target, a temporarily outlet for the howling tempest of emotions caused by the loss of his best friend.

Zoro’s world zeroes in on becoming the best. Pushing himself to the limit. Sparring, training. Constant practice and meditation. After Kuina’s death, there’s no student at the dojo for him to look up to, no ever-progressing goalpost he can set as a target. If he stays, he’ll continue being a big fish in a little pond.

Zoro leaves.

He sails the East Blue, seeking stronger and stronger opponents, cashing in bounties to get by. The Demon of the East Blue, they start calling him. But he’s still the same boy who gets lost, the ghost of a red thread distracting his steps and getting him turned around as he travels from island to island. His odd navigating system is as familiar and mechanical as the way his muscles move when he uses his swords, so ingrained he rarely registers that he’s eyeing the thin, tightly corded rope in his peripheral vision.

Arms tied back with a much thicker, tangible rope, body sore, throat parched and delirious from the burning sun, Zoro doesn’t have much to do in Shell Town’s military yard. For the first time in years, he lets himself contemplate the implications of what Kuina had explained to him- the implications of having a person out there meant for him. He wonders if they’ll ever meet- it seems unlikely if he died here. Which he won’t, of course. Because he’s going to be the world’s greatest swordsman, and not even death will keep him away from achieving his dream. Then- only then, will he maybe think of looking for whoever was stuck with him, he decides. It’ll be his decision.

For now, he’ll just keep following whatever path he feels will lead him to greatness.

And what an odd path he stumbles into. Zoro joins a pirate crew. He makes friends. They get into heaps of trouble, fighting the marines, a crazy clown, a creepy butler... Zoro is happy to test his mettle, to feel challenged once again, the rush of battle pulsing through his veins like the sweetest nectar, the comforting weight of his blades grasped in his hands and mouth.

It’s been a couple of days since they left Syrup village now, and from her spot on Merry’s bridge, Nami has been giving him weird looks.

“Did you hit your head?”

He huffs, miffed at being bothered during his nap. “No. Why’re you asking?”

“You haven’t been getting lost as much lately.” she smirks when she adds, “And I’ve seen you get lost on a smaller ship than this, once.”

His eyes roll. Fucking witch. “Dunno what you mean, my sense of direction is great.”

“And Luffy’s a great swimmer.”

They glare at each other for a moment. Sensing she won’t get any more info from the swordsman, Nami turns away first and sighing, returns her full attention to manning the ship’s helm.

Truth is, the thread had barely moved since they left Usopp’s home island, always pointing in the direction the Merry was sailing- not that Zoro had noticed. This rare situation enabled him to get the hang of the ship’s layout relatively well, and he’d been enjoying how easy it’d become to move around, even though he chalked it up to personal atunement to the Straw hats’ already beloved ship.

A few hours before they get to the Baratie, he thinks it’s a funny coincidence that the thread is pointing in the direction the Merry is going.

#zoro gets lost #zosan soulmate au #zosan #zoro x sanji #one piece zosan #one piece fanfiction #zosan fanfiction #zosan fic idea #red string of fate #part one of three #let me know what you think!#might get impatient and post part two pretty soon haha

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loving-family-poll · 4 months

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Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2

Propaganda under the cut:

Hikaru/Kaoru:

notable for actually leaning into the incest thing because twincest was their entire schtick while working at the host club

the twincest ship that defined a generation. taking the bait seems obvious when their performance gimmick for club guests is to fawn over each other and play up the affection tenfold, but it just gets better when you learn that for most of their lives they didnt have other friends and really only had each other until joining becoming members of the host club. so on top of being willing to flirt in public for attention, they're also codependent as hell <333

They're twins. They sleep in the same bed. They pretend to be in forbidden love to bait fujoshis but are maybe also in forbidden love for real. They were in high school before they met a single person who could tell them apart. They were devastating to my middle school psyche

Rick/Morty:

INCEST ICONS!! They've somehow got a MAJORITY of their fans on one of the most popular shows on TV to root for a guy who is CLEARLY sexually abusing his grandson ~subtextually~, but also sometimes ON SCREEN, and it's hilarious and fucked up, and Morty would kill anyone who tried to take his grandpa away <3

they're codependent in so many universes, they've gotta be fucking in a few

They get married!!!!! It's right there!! I wish I had more coherent thoughts about them but just. They. It's awful. It's abusive. It's twisted and cruel. It's a comedy duo. It's the best thing either have going for them. Rick will never fully respect Morty. Morty will never fully respect Rick. I want them to run away together. They're Something

the power dynamic is crazy! Morty's deeply lonely at the start and his grandfather takes advantage of that, rick pulls the kid out of bed, out of school, whenever he wants and gets him to do whatever he wants, covers up their activities, threatens and endangers and inflicts pain upon morty with intent and cruelty. he shapes morty according to his needs, the entire show is about the space adventures of an old man and his 14 year old grandson and you just gotta wonder, isn't it fucked up that this guy's sidekick and best friend and life partner is a kid? and it is!

Since morty is traumatized on the daily rick sometimes takes his memories, he controls what morty can remember (and therefore who he gets to be), the memory gun is just sci-fi gaslighting i say. and there's transdimensional travel and at one point it's revealed that ricks from different dimensions work together to "breed" mortys, ensure they're born (clone a bunch of them too) because a morty by nature is loyal and forgiving and makes the perfect partner that's easy to manipulate, easy to use. i will forever think of the "bred for forgiveness" line as perverted horrifying incest bait<3

Also one time they were hosts for alien parasites and they fell in love and made out and in the Very First episode rick gets morty to stick giant seeds (that rick needs for an experiment or smth) up his ass to smuggle them through security. they had some kind of dragon soul bond orgasm together. my point is it's borderline incestuous abuse and it's crazy that they imply these characters are tied together cosmically.. if they are it's rick holding their red string of fate like a leash

they are together (sometimes romantically/sexually, sometimes not explicitly so) in EVERY universe there is canonically a club on the citadel called The Creepy Morty. Miami Morty has an R tattooed on his asscheek they love each other they hate each other they cant stand being together they cannot be separated Rick loves grooming Morty. like. he has literally pushed Morty into comitting genocides and conditioned him into becoming desensitized to all kinds of sexual and violent things. Rick keeps a memory vial of Morty's entitled "virginity" Rick C137 (the main one in the show) has sacrificed his life to save Morty

#tumblr polls #tournament polls #incest poll #hikaru/kaoru #ouran high school host club #rick/morty #rick and morty #incest tw #round 2

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thepenultimateword · 1 month

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Soulmates Prompt List

I hope it’s ok if I use the red string in some of these prompts. Since it’s cultural, I don’t want to appropriate it or anything; I’ve just read so many fun soulmates stories based around that concept lately that I thought it would be fun to write some prompts.

1. The red string will guide you to your soulmate when you are in close proximity (within a few miles) to them. Unfortunately, [A]’s leads them to a funeral. Fortunately, they’re a necromancer.

2. Pirate’s red string has always led them into the sea. They always figured that meant that they were “married” to their sea life. That is until one day the string goes tight and they are pulled overboard and find a merperson on the other end, desperately trying to bite the string free.

3. People don’t have just one soulmate. There are many potential soulmates depending on the path one follows. Villain has take advantage of this fact after realizing that their powers are strengthened with each soulmate’s soul they devour. They don’t care much for losses, much preferring their position as a ruler and almost god. That is until they until they meet Hero, the first soulmate they’ve ever cared to spare.

4. Soulmates know each other at first sight. It’s sort of ZING! Or a ZANG! Or something like that. [A] was always told they couldn’t miss it, but now [B] is looking at them like they were just electrocuted and [A]…felt nothing.

5. Thief sees the words mid-heist. The words they never told anyone but wrote on their arm at 13 during soulstice to be able to recognize their soulmate one day. However, even with proof, Detective seems to think Thief is making up another one of their deceptions to escape. Or maybe they’re just in deep deep denial.

6. [A] is cursed to remember and [B] is cursed to forget. They are Soulmates in every life but not always successful ones. Turns out [B] only regains their memories of past lives when [A] succeeds in making them fall in love with them once again. It’s a tiring thing, wooing their love in every life, but it’s more painful to be forgotten.

7. Fate has already chosen matches for each person, but that does not stop some people from trying to “steal” soulmates, ignoring the rules that forbid flirting with anyone not prearranged for them. In fact, quite a few people have started claiming that soulmates should be a choice, but can anyone really defy fate?

8. Soulmates appear in each other's dreams the night before they meet in person. After such a dream, [A] recognizes [B] immediately, and from the look on [B]'s face when they lock eyes, they recognize them right back. So why are they lying and claiming they've never seen [A] before?

9. People used to be born with predestined matches, a matching mark appearing somewhere on their skin upon first meeting. But one day it simply stopped, so humankind had to manufacture it themselves. Now, upon birth, every baby is implanted with a device--they are legally required to upload all personal data to the device's cloud throughout their life--to simulate such a mark, only to activate upon contact with a compatible match. The ways of spontaneous soulmates are now only a story of the past. [A] is fully invested in the technology, however, [B] doesn't believe humankind should have ever messed with the decisions of fate.

10. In a post-apocalyptic world, [A] expected their soulmate to be dead. Not that it mattered anymore. Almost everyone was dead. And love was not going to keep them alive. But when a thief sneaks into their safe house and tries to steal supplies, [A] tackles them to the ground, catching a glimpse of the soul mark on the thief's neck just as it fades. Their soulmate still exists. And the feelings that come with that knowledge are very confusing.

#creative writing #prompt #writing prompt #short prompt #prompt list #soulmates #soulmate fic #fiction #writeblr #writblr #soulmate au

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calirph · 22 days

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𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

All sentences have been taken from different literally, and media sources regarding childhood friends with feelings, former lovers, the one that never got away and the fear of a new love. You can change names, pronouns, locations and more as you see fit.

Can you forget about me?

No. Not if I live to be a hundred.

Then don’t ask me to do what you can’t.

Know that you are a beautiful woman with a beautiful soul and someday you will meet someone amazing, if you haven’t already. Someone that’s going to adore you as much as I always did.

But there will never be anyone else for me. You're it.

It’s us. It always has been.

Why do you speak like we won’t meet again for such a long time?

I don’t think you remember me as well as I remember us.

I never thought of a future without you.

Over the years, we have all seen their love grow. From playmates to sweethearts to bride and groom.

A lot has changed since the days when I used to throw mud in your face... but not everything's changed.

The red string of fate bound us together even then.

Why are old lovers able to become friends? Two reasons. They never truly loved each other, or they love each other still.

You're gone and you left me. My heart has dissipated.

I don't want to forget what we had. Ever.

I thought I was over him.

I realized I’m in love. It's always been right in front of me.

I tried to hate you, to forgive you, all just to forget you, but I'm only capable of loving you.

The more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.

I wanted you in my life from the beginning, Mal. Any way I could have you.

I’ve always liked you, from the first moment I saw you.

Don't let happiness slip through your fingers because of old angers and mistakes.

Why would I care what I look like when I’m constantly next to you?

I knew I wasn’t capable of falling in love unless you walked back into my life.

I let you go once. You’re crazy if you think I’m doing that again.

I always knew it was horses that would bring you back.

You’re always thinking about me, even when you’re frowning.

I’m thinking what a fool you are.

You rule my every thought. Even then. I was lying to myself.

You do deserve to dance, wear pretty dresses, and eat fine foods. You are worth celebrating.

When we're in here, when we're together like this, forget about everyone else.

I fancy you, Lauren, more now than ever.

I want you exactly as we've been before and so much more on top of that, too.

You… you’re everything I look for too.

Don’t ask me to give it all up unless that’s really what you want, because I could do it for you.

Forget San Carlo for just one second and tell me what you feel.

I can’t give you up, Lucy. I’m addicted to you, and I’m not strong enough to give you up.

I couldn’t risk someone seeing. The woods have eyes.

There was love in my heart for a boy once before, and it was a love that consumed my entire being.

There. Let the gods of friendship and common sense strike him dead.

There's something to said about smaller bed - you're forced to stay close to me. Where you belong.

There was a moment when we were young where I thought we would be married by now.

Not hard to get at all. Just hard to keep.

I'm trying to be good here, Karlie. But you're making it damn hard to resist.

What would you have me do to prove it?

You're my past, my present, and my future.

Say yes. Open your eyes, see that it's me, and say yes.

Why did you kiss me?

There's nothing to say.

Why are you looking at me like that?

You shouldn’t touch me.

We can't keep going on like this.

Back then, I always hoped. . .you know.

#meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #◟ ⋆ memes › roleplay sources.#childhood lovers meme #former lovers meme

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txtmetonight · 2 months

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First Love/Late Spring

call summary ⋆ ★ Kang Taehyun was your first love. And you're slowly coming to a realization that he may also become your first heartbreak.

pairing *. * Kang Taehyun x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Angst, Fluff

warnings *. Underage Drinking/Smoking, Crude Language, bad grammar because I was lazy to properly check it

call duration⋆ ★ 10.3k...

a/n*. * lmao guess who got the flu and the stomach bug at the same time. I love my life. but this one is a little more fluffier and may have gone a little bit overboard with it...oops but that's alr

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet//@oreoqueen // @woncheecks//@probably-too-obssessed// @matcha-binz

The Mitski Diaries Masterlist

You used to watch the night sky and the morning sunrise through your open window, wishing for something new. The birds chirped at your woes and the crickets stayed quiet for your tears, for the love in your heart couldn’t be contained in its chamber. You prayed and prayed to the ones above for someone to love.

A person to cherish in this small town of yours, a boy who could handle the sticky smell of fish that your family harvested by the seashore, who could adore every one of your insecurities and turn them into something more.

And in return for the cries that were wasted to mother earth herself, she whispered to fate to gift you with Kang Taehyun; your best friend turned boyfriend.

You’ve known Kang Taehyun for your whole life, quite literally because he was born in the room right next to yours, both crying out just intervals apart...or that’s how your moms explained it. You were a cranky child, and he was quiet, but then the roles switched as you both grew older and suddenly you were the meek one while he chattered with anyone and everyone.

That’s why you suppose at the ripe age of ten, you believed that he wouldn’t like you, not when other gorgeous girls were chasing his heart. More confident ones that stood their ground and weren’t cowardly in actions and thoughts. Opposites of yours in nature, perhaps were his types, you would often think about.

But he had proven you wrong in fourth grade at the Valentine’s Day dance, he had gotten on stage during the talent show section, sung his heart out, and then proposed that he liked you into the mic. He then proceeded to jump off from the not-too-tall platform and handed you red roses that were behind his back.

It was safe to say that you shyly accepted the flowers with a bright grin on your face, pulling him into a tight tug that caused a chain reaction of hoots from students around you.

The black hole Of the Window Where you sleep

You’ve been dating Kang Taehyun for eight years, close to nine, and though you haven’t noticed it until now, you’re slowly being sucked into a hole of anguish that you’re not sure you can handle. For as long as you can remember, he’d always been ambitious, too passionate about the outside world. This town you two were born in, has locked him in chains.

Held him back from chasing his dreams that you were guilty of thinking were unnecessary and stupid. Not that you would ever tell him that–of course not. But who could blame you, when all you wanted to do was to stay in the comfort of the ocean waves? You desired to stay, and he wished to go.

But that you would have many more years to think upon that, no? Maybe you could change his mind?

You’ve been staring at Taehyun’s house for a while, hair slowly swaying against the wind that blows by; cooling down your burning skin. You look at it from different angles, observing every tiny detail, every flaw that you could find in the dead of night.

The moon provided a sense of light that was strong and mighty. For years on, you’ve put away the terrifying thought of growing up, where he had to ultimately leave you for his own good. You wouldn’t believe it at first, so you tucked it behind a string of memories, but now it had slowly resurfaced as reality had set its unbreakable path for him. And you’re forced to come to terms with it.

How had time flown so much already?

Closing your eyes, your lips tremble as you sink your back against the tiles of your roof. Stars glittered the space above, watching curiously as a young woman tossed and turned. The same stars that have watched you and Taehyun tumble into the overgrown grass below, hide in bushes to scare the neighborhood kids, and kiss softly near the shimmery sea. You suppose that they would miss him too.

After all, you have only a few more months until graduation.

You and Taehyun had decided to skip school today and run towards the kids' playground, down by a passing of trees that wind up into a swing set and into a large play set that had a multitude of slides and ladders. Your uniform had been ruffled in its attempt to be free from your skirt, your socks were at different lengths, and your hair was a mess, but Taehyun thought that you were the most gorgeous woman alive. He couldn’t get enough of you he thinks, as you’re in arms, stupidly in love with him, with both of your bodies crammed in a tunnel.

He likes to think that time and space has stopped when it’s you and him together, just to make him feel better but taking one look outside, he knows that could never happen as much as he wished on a shooting star. Your parents were going to be worried soon, maybe you two should–

“Tyunnie, we should go before I sleep on you,” You yawn, rubbing your eyes as you try to peel off him, but it was hard at the way that he pressed into you with his nose at your nape. “I would just carry you, if you did actually fall asleep,” He chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead, before helping you crawl out of the tunnel.

“Nuh uh. You would’ve left me to rot and get eaten by the wolves!”

Taehyun sighs, “You’ve been spending too much time with Ryujin lately. She’s corrupted you, sweetheart.” He goes to clasp your hand with his, and suddenly your heart aches. You trace the pathways with your eyes, relishing the bittersweet moment that wraps around your throat holding you tight.

“No, she hasn’t.” You grasp his hand tighter, afraid that he’s going to disappear, hiding in the silence of your words.

Looking at you, Taehyun notices that you’ve been too quiet, and it hurts him at the way that you look crestfallen, with your stunning lips always downturned. He knows why. But he still asks for your answer, in hopes that you will still talk to him.

“What’s wrong? You usually would’ve talked my head off by now.” He softly jokes, brushing your hair out your face, carefully watching you contort your smile into something near plastic. “Nothing much. I–” You struggle with the way that your tongue ties in your mouth, but Taehyun was the beating of your heart, so he understands the way that your fingers shake against him.

The night breeze Carries

“I...I want peaches.” Your head shoots up at Taehyun, smiling as his eyes recognize the sweet smell that perfumes the area. “Fucking hell...” He grins, pressing his lips to your hands. “Peach trees!” You tug at his arms, as you both run in a whole other direction that your homes were but being a few minutes late to supper wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Trees that held peaches were your favorite trees. Pies that were made with peaches were your favorite pies. Wine that was fermented from peaches was your favorite beverage. Taehyun’s lips coated in the sweet peach nectar, were how you liked to kiss him best.

You loved peaches, he loved peaches. One night he had proposed that he had a dream with you that you two had owned a peach farm. You two were dressed quite funnily, with big straw hats that carried a family of mice, but it was cute. Oh, and Hobak was there too.

Your smile diminishes at the thought, but you won’t let it ruin your mood, not when you still must make more happy memories with Taehyun by your side. “It smells so good!” You whine, trying to gasp for breath that you left behind while on your hunt for the fruit. “Gosh, what am I going to do with you?” He laughs, which funnily disappears into an echo when he tries to reach for the fruit, but grazes with it when he jumps.

You snort at the way that his eyebrows furrow, putting up your hands when he tries to send you an intimidating look. “Get out of the way loser, let the pro do her work!” He rolls his eyes as you try to climb the tree itself, but he’s right behind you making sure you don’t fall off. When you get on onto a shaky branch, his hold on your hips makes you dizzy and dopey but you don’t let up on your mission for the fruit.

Grabbing the nearest one without straining yourself, you hand it to Taehyun who stores it in his pockets. And then you give another one, and then another, and then another, before both of your boyfriend’s pockets and your hands are full.

Turning your head, your eyes flicker to the ground and then you congratulate yourself for pondering a good idea. “Hey Tae, throw your blazer on the ground!” His lips twist but he doesn’t complain, putting his blazer on top of the soft grass just as you asked him to. Crouching against the tree, you gently throw the peaches onto the piece of clothing before you lift your body again, this time holding a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Catch me, baby!” You squeal, and Taehyun predicts it as he steps forward and swooshes you from the sky, barely even grunting when you land in his arms. He’s gotten used to the weight of your body against him, and it makes him fuzzy when you land a kiss on his nose when he curls his biceps.

“Hate you.”

“Sure, you do.” You gingerly say, looking into his eyes. You seem to be searching for something under the expanse of his iris, but when you don’t find anything, you wrap your hands around his neck, swallowing deeply at his penetrating gaze.

“You better eat a lot of peaches in the states.”

He scoffs, “We don’t even know if I got in or not yet.” You nod and grab the fruit from his trousers, feeding yourself with it. “You definitely did. My gut tells me it and whenever have I ever been wrong?” You know that even if he doesn’t get the letter through the mail, he’s going to leave anyway. You think that’s worse.

“Or that’s your stomach growling, idiot.” He flicks your forehead before he too takes a bite out from the peach in your hand, juices rolling down your hand. It’s sticky but feels nice on your skin.

“You’re not very nice, are you?” You stick your tongue at him but take his lips softly underneath the soft leaves of the peach tree. You two soon engrave the initials of your love in the bark, admiring the tan hiding below the dark brown of the wood.

Something sweet A peach tree

Wild women don't get the blues

You don’t think you’ve ever found Rei Yujin’s and Park Sungho’s teasing this annoying before. It was a stuffy spring day that forced the school to finally turn on their ACs for the sake of not overheating. It was finally break time, and a popsicle was in hand as well in the hold of the other younger two after they had begged you to buy them some. But you were on the verge of shoving the sweet treat up their noses if they didn’t zip their mouths shut soon.

“I heard that Taehyun is leaving soon?” Yujin slightly tugs at your hair as you pull out a book to read to ignore them, a great grin on her face as she nudges her friend. “Oh yeah me too! You’re finally going to be single soon (Y/n)!”

Ouch.

“What’s it with you two if he’s actually leaving? It doesn’t concern you guys at all.”

“No, I guess not...” The girl trails off, leaning back in her chair. You wish that they would leave you alone, though you know that they were just teasing you. But it still hurt. A lot. Fingers tracing the pages of the book, you flip each one without even scanning a word or two; you’re immersed in your own brain as of now.

“Oh Yujin, what if he finds a hot sexy girl? You know the one that we find on TV; Kate Winslet style with her rich, red hair and her beautiful skin and her–”

“Tits? You fucking pervert!” Yujin smacks his head and they're both giggling at each other, while you stopped listening to their words the moment, they mention Taehyun finding another woman. Your feet tap against the ground with an anxious tremor that you wish to stop. You haven’t cried in so long with others around; no, you’re not a crybaby. You’re strong and you deserve to sneak in some soju from your parent’s shed.

“You know what would be funny though. Taehyun forgetting her.” Sungho nods along with her, his head in his palms as he watches your back quiver, you’re finally catching onto their jokes, and you just don’t want to admit it!

But I find that Lately I've been crying like a Tall child

“That would! It would make a great show. Girl and boy who dearly love each other, but he leaves and finds another–shit that rhymed! "He rejoices and turns to you to make sure you’ve heard him. “Hey (Y/n) did you hear that? I rhymed. I fuck–(Y/n)?” Drops slowly splatter onto your book, marking the pages with your heartbreak.

You start to sob with flushed cheeks, unable to hold back. You’re busted up in all the ways possible as if their mere quips were stones that bruised your insides. You don’t know what you would ever do if Taehyun had forgotten you, not when you think of your life, you think of him.

The two kids start to panic at your outburst and start to shoo the other kids (it was just a poor boy, who was playing Mario on his switch) away to save your face. You feel ashamed and pitiful as Yujin tries to dry your tears and sends Sungho away to call your boyfriend, which you desperately try to croak out not to, but they can’t hear you through your blubber of tears. You feel like a kid again, like your joints were aching as they grew shorter and shorter, teeth painfully being replaced with their baby ones.

You’re (Y/n) (L/n) and eighteen years old, simultaneously portraying as a five-year-old crying in grief. In sadness of a wounding change that could alter your life forever.

“We’re so sorry (Y/n). We–we didn’t know, well–” She stumbles before she’s interrupted by the door opening, revealing one worried boyfriend and your...peer that looks like a sheet of paper. “Please leave,” Taehyun demands, and the poor kids squeak at the way that his eyes narrow, running past him in guilt and fear.

Slow steps that hold heaviness that weighed in his heart make your stomach churn as tender hands come to cup your cheek.

“Sweetheart...” He tries, but you move away from his touch, and it breaks him a little. Taehyun grabs your fingers and presses them to his lips and then to his chest, soaking in the way that you cry even harder at the gesture. He’s seen you cry a plentiful of times, but it’s more intimate this time the way that the pain seeps through his veins, slowly suffocating him alive.

He then realizes that he never wants to see you cry. Taehyun starts to sob alongside you, quiet tears leaking from his eyes,

“Do you know how to make a scrapbook?” He starts off slowly, mouth shaking when he feels your fingers wipe away the tears that cascade beautifully down his cheeks. You nod at his question and release a shaky breath to let him continue. “I want to mark our moments together, on pages. Happily, together.” He stares sadly at you, which makes you giggle at the way that his eyes represent boba pearls.

“Did I say something wrong?” He cocks his head, and you say nothing but smile, whispering quietly that all you needed was a good cry session. Taehyun opens his mouth to say something, but the shrill ring of the bell stops him midway. Swiftly wiping your tears and his, he leans in closer by your ear.

“I love you.”

And then he leaves you to be as your classmates come pouring in, aware of the miserable gaze that follows him out.

You don’t know if you can do this anymore. A knife runs deeper into your flesh, each day as you look at the calendar, counting the days off to your heart’s demise. You don’t know why it hurts so much, watching him leave.

But you suppose you’ll love him forever, no? But maybe it hurts to think that he won’t love you but pondering about it longer, it would probably be worse if he still did for the reason, that you won’t be there to experience his heart for a while. A while too long for you to handle. But for Taehyun you’ll do anything for him to be happy.

And so that night, you let him sneak into your room, one hand over your eyes and the other over your shoulders, assisting you over the tree branches. “I don’t understand why you have to cover my eyes,” You pout and he just chuckles, slightly grunting trying to get past a thick branch without tripping.

“Because I want it to be a surprise–come on sweetheart, lift your legs for me for a second.” Your cheeks burn as you do what he says, squeaking when your flip-flops hit the ground.

“If you kill me then I swear I’ll haunt you forever.”

Taehyun snorts before he tightly grabs your hand, pulling you along away from your driveway. “You won’t die...if you hold onto me tight enough.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words, feet dragging against the gravel wondering what he was planning. He was quite unpredictable; you could never guess what he would do.

“What do you mean–holy fuck is that a motorcycle!?”

His hands leave your eyes and reveal a shiny black motorcycle, polished in its glory. Two matching helmets hung from the handlebars, still as they put on a show for you two; it looked absolutely ethereal.

“Where did you get that?” You murmur, stalking forward to swipe your finger against the cool, metal, smiling when Taehyun kisses your cheek before getting on the seat. “Asked old Mr. Hwang for it, and after bribing him with money, I was able to get my hands on this!”

He then gently pulls you behind him and tucks your arms around his fit waist, handing you one of the helmets to put on. “I know how much you wanted this, baby. Go on a ride with me through the dark?”

Butterflies flutter through your stomach with great ferocity, their wings graze your throat. You think you’re going insane at the way that he squeezes your arms, looking at you for an answer. And who are you to deny him?

“Of course. I would love to.” You sweetly twinkle, clicking in the straps of your helmet and reaching your arms forward to do the same with your boyfriend...before you realize something. “Wait Tae, do you even know how to drive this!?”

“Er not really. But I’ll figure it out on the way.” He says with a little too much confidence that it partly scares you, to only receive a heart attack when the engine awakens to life. “Oh god, please don’t let us die!” Throwing your body closer, you close your eyes against his back, mouth pressed together when the wheels start moving.

“Stop being so dramatic. And I promise nothing will happen to you or to me!”

His words bring you little comfort that quickly leaves your soul, the minute that he bends forward, speeding up the vehicle, forcing tears into your eyes from the intense wind that flies by. “Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit!” You cry, hugging him tighter against you, when the bike trembles a little.

“Open your eyes!” He looks back for a second before your hands slap his helmet forward, roughly patting his back when he finds it funny at the way you worry. But honestly, when you told him that you wished to go on a motorcycle ride with him, dead at night, you were particularly sure that you did not want to die while you were at it.

“(Y/n)!” Taehyun whines, making you grumble against him, but you still lift your face from his back and open your eyes just as he says.

“Woah...” The passing sea, just where it got too deep for anyone to visit was glowing green, almost as if some kid had decided to color the deep blue with a green glow stick. Just a few meters away from the coast stood tall trees that illuminated the green. “So pretty–you better not say anything cheesy!” You point towards the side mirrors, having fun at the way that he shakes his head and says, “You got me there.”

You don’t exactly think about where he was taking you to, nor did you really care. But how could you? With Taehyun by your side for the moment, everything feels right, like the earth has finally found its missing puzzle piece that’s been missing for a gazillion of billions of years.

But the place that he drives you to is something that jolts your heart, turning your gaze to his curious expression that expresses something shy of sheepishness; his own look that was only reserved for you to read like a map.

A large billboard stands tall and high, and painted in white letters on either side of the board read, “Welcome to Moaville” and the other “Goodbye, hope you’ll visit us soon again.” Taehyun cuts off the bike and helps you off before he takes the helmet from your hand, which you weakly drop.

“Why are we here?” You ask, but you immediately know why, when he pulls out a small picture-sized book with empty pages and a small polaroid that were both hidden in a satchel that were both masked from sight. You take the camera from his hands, and bring it up to look through the lenses, smiling when you find Taehyun already looking at you.

“Take a picture of me?” He poses, looking a little goofy but endearing, so you nod (you were already planning to anyways) and click the button on top, creating a blinding flash. Almost immediately the film starts to slowly make its way to the top which you pull out and shake.

“Did you make me look good?” He asks, walking to your side to look at the emerging photo. “You always look good,” You whisper, sighing when you were right; he looked almost ghostly in the picture but still handsome as ever.

Fingers placed on your chin; he pulls your face towards him. “You make me feel good.” He rasps and pulls you to sit down on the side where it says goodbye. Taehyun was someone you had to study through the lines, he was subtle in the way that he hinted at his true feelings, so you started to have a knack for observing when it came to him.

Ogling at the board, you imagine that if he had left you now, the sense of surprise would’ve bandaged the wound for now.

You envision him saying ‘goodbye’ and walking into the night, leaving you alone. But what pains more is the ‘I love you’ he cries to you.

You decide that when the day comes, you’re going to shut him off with a kiss because his words break the fragile bones that you hold, the ones that could puncture your heart from the way that it feels like it’s going to explode. Especially when Taehyun himself has gone glazy-eyed staring into the distance.

So please hurry leave me I can't breathe Please don't say you love me 胸がはち切れそうで

“We should start,” You say, taking the bag from beside him and dumping everything out, shocked to see the numerous pictures that slide out. “Where did you get all of these from?” You question, softly counting to yourself.

“I have my ways.”

“Creepy” You laugh, before you abruptly stop, stomach turning in at itself as you pick up a photograph of you and him; a seemingly innocent one, but it held many memories that you hold dear to your heart. “You still have this...” You lean on his shoulder, fingers looping around him while you hold the picture–or rather a newspaper clipping in front of you two.

“I saved it for memories...(Y/n) I have something to tell you.”

Eyes darting towards him, you feel a sense of dread start to eat you slowly up from your feet at the way that they go numb. “Sure. Go ahead.” Perhaps he didn’t expect your consent soon enough or he was lost in his own brain once again, but his ears turned red.

“My dad booked the tickets, I’m leaving next month, exactly on this date.”

You don’t say anything.

“But if my admission letter comes in, then I’ll probably have more time here with you.” He reasons, but he doesn’t sound hopeful, not when you refuse to look at him, but instead stare intently at the tiny faces peering back at you two, hair strewn across your faces, clothes wet. Not much older than ten or eleven.

After hearing the unbearable silence, you choose to comment. “We look so young.”

He softly rumbles, “We do, don’t we.”

“We should go back.” You close your eyes against the metal poles that cut into your head,

“Yeah. Just for a moment.”

“Come on (Y/n)! Don’t be a wuss!”

“I’m not a wuss!” You yell, but you don’t feel so confident in yourself, waves of anxiety rolling through your veins as the water below turns into a whirlpool of dizziness, closing in on itself. The sun burns through your skin and the jagged rocks underneath your bare feet makes you reel with discomfort.

You weren’t meant to discover this spot, nor were children even allowed near it, but a group of friends you desperately wanted to fit in with had cut through the thick woods and found this beauty of a sight.

And so, they were making you jump off the ledge of a very steep cliff, that for sure held fatal boulders that would for sure, rip you in half the moment that you made contact with them. Not that they carried though–the group at least. They whooped and whistled at each passing step you took, mocking the way that you shivered, contradicting the very hot summer heat.

“Guys I don’t think this is a very good idea.” A small voice cuts through the tension as one of the girls, Wonyoung, steps up before she’s shot down with menacing glares. “Do you want to go up with her too?”

It’s sick at the way that the group coos at her, but they don’t have to do much to intimidate her because with a shake of her head, she backs away and gives you a sympathetic smile. You huff softly as you kick at the ground, you should really learn how to stand up for yourself.

“What are you waiting for? Jump!” You’ve dazed too long into space to notice how much closer they’ve gotten to you, too close for you to turn back. “I’m not goi–”

Everyone freezes at the sounds of laughter that echo from the trees, breath stilling in their throats, and you take it as a chance to take a few steps away from the edge, but you’re quickly stopped when one of them harshly grabs your arm, twisting it. “You like Taehyun, don’t you?”

Taehyun? Looking back at the group of kids that also stumble around at the crumbling ground below them, one voice sticks out to you out of the five boys that made their appearance.

Black hair that flopped around and glasses that were pulled down to the very tip of his nose, without no doubt that was Taehyun and his friends. He wasn’t the first one to be aware of you yet–first, it was Beomgyu who waved at you excitedly, which set out a ripple effect.

Greeting them back nervously, your feet slide as the girl grins back at you again, a vicious smile that seemed to pierce.

“You're going to jump, or I’ll make Taehyun take your place instead.” You were bewildered at the way that she said it so assuredly. “No, he won’t. He’s not stupid.” You snort, trying to push her away.

“You don’t know that? One of the boys could accidentally push him in. In fact, isn’t Mark friends with him? Aw is poor (Y/n) going to let her friend take the fall for her.”

You shake your head as tears spring into your eyes, and she finally lets you go so you can spin around and face the sky itself before it dips down into the deep blue.

Your limbs are like jelly, and you almost pass out, but you still hold your ground. By now the group behind, softly chants its words of encouragement and your toes are just over the cliff, but you can’t let Taehyun jump in, he could barely even swim, nevertheless seeing him on the rocks below would just be horrible!

“You’re almost there (Y/n).” She gives you a little nudge, chuckling at the way you try to grasp onto the air for support for the one last time.

Though she’s right, you’re right there...and so you tuck your head and close your eyes, so you won’t see your blood once they contacted with whatever had in store for you.

And you jump.

One word from you and I would Jump off of this Ledge I'm on Baby

“What was that?” Huening Kai asks, perking up at the loud splash that the others definitely had heard too, from the way that their eyes curiously scan the area. “I don’t know–did someone fall in?” Soobin gasps, getting up and watching the group of kids, huddle around near the tip of a rock face, dangerously close with camera out.

“Should we go? Isn’t (Y/n) there?” Taehyun swerves his head up and nods, dragging the rest of the group to march with him as he searches for your features among the sea of people, just along the steep hill, that looked as if any more weight was to be added, then it would break off right under their feet.

But when he doesn’t find you, his nerves electrify, and his hands without even knowing tug one of the members (Beomgyu) by their sleeve, footsteps heavy.

“Where’s (Y/n)?” He says, loudly, pushing past people to get to the very edge where a girl stands, obnoxious sounds of pictures going off, which forces him to gently tug her backward, asking with a nervous fervor where you were.

And when her eyes go blank and looks over to the side, he knows what had happened. “What the hell is wrong with you? Soobin call the ambulance!” Yeonjun who comprehends the gravity of the situation, responds quicker and already has 119 pulled up on his phone, eyes widened while the others join him, providing needed answers.

At the word of the police dropping by, the group disperses quickly, but Taehyun doesn’t let the girl go, pushing her towards one of his friends in the hopes that they wouldn’t let her slip out of their arms.

His hands ruffle through his hair, try to think logically but when he doesn’t see any sign of you, all of his rational reasoning gets thrown out of the window. So, he leaps.

Taehyun didn’t have the chance to hear his friend’s muffled words, but he could guess what they were saying, by the way that they screamed at him. The cold water overloads his senses, driving him out of control as the sharp edges of rock cut at his skin, drawing unknown amounts of blood.

His legs are stiff as he tries to reach back up for the surface, fingers barely even disturbing the top before they drop back to his side. Where were you? Opening his eyes, trying not to pass out from the intense stinging, he finds nothing but pure darkness with a few pieces of algae floating around.

His brain is muddled, and he can’t swim upwards, or even kick when his limbs have suddenly gained at least more than his weight, dragging him down. His nose scrunches at the lack of oxygen, hands slowly starting to stop flailing. Taehyun was starting to get tired...

Only for the sunlight to burn his eyes, the blue sky just overhead instead of the water bubbles that escaped his mouth. He chokes ferociously, but the warm pair of hands wrapped around him keeps his body grounded.

“Are you crazy?”

Taehyun softly smiles at the words, now able to tread water but you still don’t let go of his shoulders, wet hair sticking to your face making you look slightly crazed, but you still look stunning in his eyes. “You’re okay,” He weakly groans, when his wounds on his legs blaze with fire.

“Of course, I’m okay! Are you okay? Jesus! Why would you do that?” He shrugs and observes the large cut across your cheek, raw and red with a layer of skin peeking underneath. Taehyun’s fingers slowly move to your cheeks, heart full at the way that you don’t flinch against his salty touch, staring at him intently.

“I’m okay...the boys are calling the ambulance, and if they ask, say that she pushed you in.” He doesn’t leave any room for comments, pulling you close against him. You breathe heavily at his affection, a big smile that sent sparks through your spine.

“And do you remember when the police came in and they like started had to tackle down Yeji because she tried to run away from them!” You laugh, clutching your stomach, beach chairs pulled up at the edge of a very ‘homely’ cliff.

“I do! And then we still got grounded like forever, even though we didn’t even do anything.” You wince, you remember how bad the isolation was, stuck in your room only able to use made-sign language to talk to him through your bedroom window.

The chair beside you, groans as Taehyun pulls himself off from it, stretching as the early sun wisps around his body, eyes fluttering close against the fresh air. You watch him from behind, smile growing at how captivating he was, with the golden rays showcasing him like an angel. Turning around to face you, he holds out your arm to take and you giggle at the way that he pulls you into his chest. He’s warm.

Feet bare without any shoes, you both track your way to the edge once again, feeling deja vu at the way that your heart starts racing, but you’re not sure if it’s because of how ethereal Taehyun looks next to you or...the rushing water below.

You’ve both grown, so there wasn’t really a chance of drowning as your feet both grazed against the sandy floor, just enough to have your head bobbing over the surface, and rocks below were excavated away after your incident, but you tiedy to immerse yourself in the feelings of first love–with him by your side.

You both now look at the water below and agree to swim back to the sand shore, where you get a hit of nostalgia after you two were rescued, your town’s news reporters stand there with bated breaths and Taehyun has to roughly push past them as he covered you in his wet shirt. Looking at him, you already find him staring at him with gentle eyes that hold so much emotion you feel like you were already tangled sunk deep in the warm sea.

Jerking your head away so he couldn’t see your red blush, you sigh and decide to tell him something you haven’t told him before–though you know he’s suspected it before. “I jumped in because Yeji kept telling me that she would push you instead, so imagine my surprise, when I see you in the water with me.” You pause to catch his lips. “I would do anything for you.”

He grins, and grips your hips, nuzzling into your head and gosh he really reminded you of his cat. “I know you would...me too. I would do anything for you too.”

Your head spins at his words and you pretend that both of you could actually do everything and anything for each other. You wish that he could tell you not to come with him, willingly so you could heed his wishes with a tail tucked behind your back. That you wouldn’t have to feel so much sorrow because you didn’t want to leave and explore the world.

Tell me "don't" So I can Crawl back in

Taehyun clutches your hand tightly.

And you both jump.

You don’t actually smoke a cig as much as you used to. Cigarette sales for you were during freshman and sophomore years of high school when you would hide underneath the school bleachers, perhaps it was stress, or maybe because all the older high schoolers found themselves with you and Taehyun rather than in their own classroom because they claimed that you two were rather cooler than the other freshies.

And a group activity turned into two, because the others would have graduated a year later, you two had found comfort in heavy soju that sent you into a spiral.

But it was never too much that you had let your grades drop, no Taehyun would ever allow that. So, it wasn’t too bad and you two had limited yourself more and more as you both got older, only a few smokes every few months until you completely stopped.

You’ve never liked the smell that it left or the smoky haze, but it still felt nice to feel a little more grown-up, just a bit cooler than you literally were. You wish you were young again though.

And I was so young When I behaved Twenty five

You’re both under the science hallway stairs this time because the bleachers were closely monitored after someone was caught making out, but if you close your eyes, you can feel the tense atmosphere of the whines of your school’s ever losing football team.

Taehyun has his phone out, trying to blink through the reeking vapor. You're both trying to calculate how many days he has until he must leave, how many more opportunities you both have to recreate as many old photos as you both can to put in the scrapbook.

You two have already dressed in tight clothing and have posed shamelessly, climbed to the top of the town’s playground, screaming at the top of your lungs, redoing his first proposal to you, except this time during prom, where he stole the mic again and much more which included Soobin taking a picture of you two dripping wet from last’s adventure–which was a while ago.

Finals had come up, and you two were stuck studying until you passed out.

You and Taehyun passed with flying colors–thank god.

“We have fifteen more days” You croak, finger sliding against his screen. That was a day over two weeks and grad was just in another seven days. “You’re right, time’s been flying fast.” You nod, “Way too fast.”

“We should figure out a way to stop time. Or maybe a time machine.” He says, pulling out his camera. You both get in position, just as in the old picture near your Converse, mouths tugged in the same way, both looking at each other raising finger guns near your faces.

This photograph was probably your favorite one.

“(Y/n) would you be a sweetheart and go get the mail?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you get up from Taehyun’s bed and stalk to the top of the stairs to see Taehyun’s mom, holding a pair of keys with a soft smile that looks extremely like your boyfriend’s.

“Of course, I was waiting for Taehyun anyway, he’s taking a shower right now!” Your steps thud against each step, and with a childish grin, you grab the keys from her hand and skip out of the door. It was a very nice day today, and you suppose the grass is greener than ever and the birds are chirping as loud as they can be.

A few neighbors are mowing their lawns, waving hello when you walk past them, your own father rolling his eyes when you laugh at him. The mailbox isn’t far, and it doesn’t take you too long for you to insert the key, pulling the little door open to find a bunch of letters and a small package that was able to squeeze past the small space.

Fingers cramming underneath the stack of white paper, you manage to pull everything out in one go, just a few falling out from your grasp, clicking your tongue when they touch the concrete below. You bend your knees to grab one.

“No fucking way.”

Now all the letters are on the ground.

Because you’ve let them go from the shock of seeing Taehyun’s name printed on the backside with San Fransisco, just right below it–Taehyun had gotten accepted.

Your arms don’t feel attached when you robotically pick everything up, Taehyun’s acceptance letter shaking in your hands. Flipping the envelope around, your fingers itch to open it but you quickly tuck it under your arm and walk back to Taehyun’s house in a much duller mood.

You suppose that you’re happy, Taehyun gets to spend more time with you, and he’ll be able to stay longer in this small town. But it still stabs you inside–he’s leaving in any situation, and you can’t do anything about it.

When you get back to his house, you let yourself in through the cracked door and meet his parents by the dining table, placing all but one of the mail down on the countertop, mouth cracking open as you hold his acceptance letter up.

“Taehyun got mail back from California!”

“Seriously?”

“What.”

Two voices overlap with each other, one a little more joyous and higher his mother and father rising from their seat in surprise. The other was weak with a tone you couldn’t exactly recognize. Facing the boy behind you, your hands deliver the letter to him, a smile disappearing at the way that he trembles.

“Tae go ahead and open it, oh god we’re so proud of you.” His mother pinches his cheeks, and his father pats him on his back, but he doesn’t react to any of it, just staring at you instead.

Something’s wrong and you know it.

“Mrs. Kang, did you guys not check the mailbox recently? They usually send acceptance letters quite earlier than now.” You make talk as Taehyun slowly rips open the letter, popping off easily so he can slide his fingers to pull out the paper. “We did...I made Taehyun go down, just a week ago...and you said that you didn’t find anything right, honey?”

“Mhm.”

Looking up at Taehyun, he avoids your eye, reading the paper out loud, for everyone to read, voice shaking in his throat. But he’s unable to make it through the first few lines, when his dad who was eager enough to read faster than Taehyun’s unbearably slow pace, points out probably the biggest heartbreak of your life.

“Taehyun! They’re letting you fly out to them, early!”

Eyes shooting towards Taehyun’s you’re surprised to see them well up with tears, looking down at his feet as he nods. His mother tugging the paper out from his arms, confirms it with great excitement that you couldn’t reciprocate, hugging her son tightly against her, smothering him with kisses.

Taehyun’s face held something close to when he was caught stealing candy when he was younger...he’d known all about the acceptance letter and that he was going to leave you early, not the opposite that he had promised.

Yet now I find I've grown into A tall child

Taking a step back with anger, you want to throw a tantrum, you want to rip the letter in half like a child. You want to cry and whine while holding onto your mom, telling her to make it stop, to not let him go. You greatly wished to clutch onto his leg like a petulant toddler.

But you don’t. Instead, you ask, “When does he have to...go?” Your voice is weak, but the parents don’t take notice and reply with a merry “May sixteenth.” The day after graduation. Taehyun’s hand reaches out to you, but you gently swat it away and tap on his mother’s shoulder with a smile that blubbered when it spoke. “My father had just texted me; I have to go home.”

Mouth twisting at your abruptness, she nods, “All right then! Tell your parents not to make dinner, we’re going to celebrate tonight!” You agree to mention it to them, but you’re not sure you want to see Taehyun that night, so you quickly walk to the front door, saying goodbye.

You’re furious, and you bet that if anyone looked outside their window, they would’ve asked who that big baby is that’s stomping wildly across the road, not looking both sides to realize that there was a car that doesn’t even dare to beep.

“Watch out!”

Your body spins around, as your skirt hits the bumper of the car, but you're safely in the hands of your lying boyfriend, eyes big as saucers when he looks down at you. “(Y/n) how many times did I tell you to check the road before crossing the street!”

“Yet you couldn’t tell me that you were going to leave early!?” You pull away from him and keep on marching down the road, aware of the way that Taehyun follows your footsteps, keeping close by. “I’m so sorry (Y/n), I just didn’t know how to tell you!”

“Oh, fuck off, Taehyun!”

A mother cups the ears of her young son’s ears, sending you two a glare that you couldn’t care about. “(Y/n) Come on, please! Listen to me!” He cries, running ahead to stop you from your tracks, taking in all the kicks that you throw at him, angrily giving up when he scrunches his nose too hard at a very strong particular punch to his stomach.

“Were you going to leave me without telling me?”

He huffs, trying to regain his breath but he shakes his head. “No, of course not, I–”

“Then why didn’t you tell me when you actually found out. Do you think that I was going to care? You’re me leaving anyways!” You’re harsh with your words and he winces.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t mea–”

“No, it’s alright.” He hangs his head shamefully, and he shakily sobs when you come closer. “I couldn’t come to terms with it. I didn’t want to leave you sooner, I just wanted to pretend that you were going to be with me forever, even though...”

“You should stay, but you can’t” You wipe the tears from his face, and you find it ironic that this time, you’re in his place, comforting him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I could never be too mad at you for a long time. You’re probably going to come visit us anyway, so I don’t know why I blew it out of proportion.”

The look he sends you churns your stomach a little, but he pushes you along to your house, smiling through the crack of the door before you close it on him.

“Get pretty for me, baby.”

When it comes to the time for the dinner party that his parents both hosted for him, you two locked yourself in his room that night, admiring the way that the other looked for the last few times.

Graduation had come fast as you and all your other friends and your boyfriend sat at a round table, all wearing the same attire. You’ve come to enjoy the lovely atmosphere and the beautiful memories, you’d shared with each other, which you’re now using against them in a game of “Who’s going to cry first.”

Jay and Gaeul were currently sobbing against each other, Sunghoon was holding a staring contest with a tree, Ningning was cursing as her tears fell, trying to gaslight the others that she wasn’t actually crying...and everyone else was doing something somewhere in the middle.

You, Huening, and Taehyun laugh, teasing the people that you’ve grown up with, holding a bittersweet heart that wishes to never stop beating for them.

“Alright, shall we start our ceremony then? Please welcome the graduates of 20XX!”

One by one, everyone leaves to get their diploma that many have shed tears into, cheering as they run to their family waiting for them in the crowd. You watch with big eyes and chuckle when Jake manages to trip over the steps and flip his econ teacher off, drumming your fingers on your table, patiently sitting to be called, exchanging looks with your boyfriend.

“Kang Taehyun!”

You yell loudly as the boy next to you shushes you when he gets up, but his face is flushed with happiness when he walks across the stage, and you’re unable to tear your eyes from him–he’s quite mesmerizing, to say the least.

And when it comes time for you to walk, he swears that you look like an angel that has graced everyone with your presence, but Jake gags and pushes him away to hug you, congratulating you. You’re severely happy and your cheeks hurt, from the amount of smiling that you’ve done in the past few hours.

A hand creeps up to your shoulder, and suddenly there are a bunch of carnations sitting in your hand, feeling shy when Gaeul points it out and starts teasing you and your boyfriend for being sappy.

And I don't wanna go home yet Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

You don’t want this day to end, you want to stay young forever you think. But you managed to capture the feelings with a click of a camera, tugging Taehyun to kiss, when the flash goes off and everyone screams “cheese”.

Please hurry leave me I can't breathe

The open window didn’t help your lungs, as it struggled to take in air, heartbeat shattering against its cavity in a tremendous matter. Next to you sits Kang Taehyun in his glory, using the scenery as an excuse to look at you. It was midday but the roads weren’t littered with cars, leaving a clear path for the Kang’s family car to roll down easily. The radio chattered with nonsense, but it was turned down over an important conversation Taehyun and his mother were having.

“Please be careful when you get there!”

He scoffs and crosses his arms, “I feel like you’ve told me that over a hundred times. I promise I’ll be safe!” Flinching, when you smack him over the head, telling his mom that he was being incredibly rude and that he should apologize to her–just to make him a little annoyed for your fun. “Oh, I can’t believe how grown up you two are. I just remember when the both of you were able to fit in the palms of our hands.”

That cues Mrs. Kang's emotional tears and her rambles about life, comforted by her husband and the silent chuckles that you leave behind your hands. But you understand how she feels, heart aching and eyes bloodshot even after the relentless sobbing you did last night with Taehyun, lying down in his flower garden. You two were able to finally talk about...what you guys were going to have to be. He said

“Long distance, lovers” had a nice ring, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth. And after much back and forth over what title to pick, you decided that a label wasn’t needed if you knew the other with magnificent love.

You wonder what the boy next to you feels–but you don’t really want to face him yet.

“Taehyun you’re sure, you’ve got everything, from here on we can’t do anything else if you’ve forgotten anything.” His father reminds him as he rolls into the airport parking lot, sighing deeply when he finds you two in awe of the airplanes that fly out, disappearing into the blue sky in mere seconds.

“I’m sure. I made (Y/n) and Mom check it for me too.” He then gets out of the car and helps his dad unpack two large suitcases that he was able to shove his whole life into, clenching his fists when the trunk of the car closes right behind him.

He lets his father carry his suitcase so he can hold you flush against him, smiling blindingly with eyes that get bigger at the glass elevator and even larger at the great doors that lead him inside to where he could check himself in.

“Shit this is huge...” You murmur up to him, clutching the back of his leather jacket, when the cool rush of air filters in once the sliding doors open. His parents are just right behind, watching you two with their own feelings of sadness, smiles unable to reach their eyes when you kiss his knuckles softly as you two walk up to the counter.

“One ticket for Kang Taehyun!” The elderly woman handed him the paper slip, before telling him to hurry it down to get through security check-in because his flight was going to leave soon. Gulping at the ticket in his hand, you find that you suddenly have a distaste for these particular passes.

You’re not sure what’s worse right now, either that time was going too slow because you don’t know how long your feet are going to give up under you, watching him leave or...

Time going too slow was the worst.

You wish that you could hold him back, but your heart seems to beat erratically, too hard for you to even understand as the approaching gates of the security check-in come into place, families and friends saying goodbyes to their loved ones just beyond a glass window.

The whirling crowd of people seems to disappear as you set your sights on your boyfriend, giving his hand a tight squeeze when you feel the tears start to drown your waterline, blinking them away when the threaten to spill over.

He doesn’t say anything, but squeeze your hand two times more, putting every ounce of his comfort in the gesture.

“Oh, Taehyunnie!” His mom throws herself in his arms, finally indulging in her distress, and you feel like you're watching a drama where she rubs his cheeks and holds him close while he rejects his affections with a red face.

You decide to stay back and let them have their family time, watching them wistfully when Taehyun also starts to tear up, nose beginning to twitch. He whispers sweet words of affirmation which they nod to and at last back up, beckoning you to come closer.

Mrs. Kang stares at her husband before she awkwardly coughs, wiping away her fallen tears. “Dear, we should go get some chocolate from the vending machine, I’m just a bit hungry.” And as he opens his mouth to object, she drags him away, winking in your direction, making you and your boyfriend laugh quietly, turning to each other when it gets too hard to ignore the sick feeling in your stomach.

“You better have fun.” You smile, dusting down his shirt, looking him straight in the eye when he nods slowly. “It won’t be the same, without you being by my side...” He starts to choke and stops your fiddling by tugging your arms over his shoulder, pulling you close while he buries his head in the nape of your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your jaw.

You choose not to say anything, just wanting to relish in this tender moment, your lips pressing gently to his temple, closing your eyes when he hugs you tighter.

Breaking apart, he quickly looks at his watch, and kisses you ever so softly, so warmly that his lips melt into yours, his grip on your clawing into your skin, penetrating the deeper levels, just past your nerves that jumble nervously.

“I’m going to miss you a lot.” You think you’ve spent all your tears already, for you don’t cry and Taehyun seems to have the will in him to suck it up, but there’s those lingering sobs that echo in your hearts and ring in your ears, a connection that you both shared. “I promise to call you every day, actually scrap that–facetime you every day and–”

He yelps when your palm covers his mouth, taking it away when he stops his rambling, staring at you with curious eyes. “You don’t have to do all of that. Just promise me that you’ll visit me again, in our town. I don’t care how much ever it’s going to take you, but please... see me once more. Promise me that.” Your pinky shakes as it raises, holding it towards his heart.

“I–okay. I promise you, sweetheart.”

Taehyun is sincere and it breaks your heart a little. Pulling his finger apart from you, his lips find your forehead, attached to your hairline for quite some time before he’s being forced to pull apart, when his father taps on his shoulder, cocking his head towards the growing line. You swallow deeply and hesitantly let go of his t-shirt, letting it drag through the tips of your fingers.

Taehyun exhales and sends you a watery chuckle, “I love–”

But it hurts, so you shut him up with a swift kiss to his lips, just once more. “Me too. Have a safe flight.” And then you weakly push him, quivering when his parents hug you.

Please don't say you love me 胸がはち切れそうで

You think you're going insane, chasing Taehyun through the glass panels, his parents just behind you while you slide your palms over the cloudy barrier, mimicking Taehyun who just does the same, walking at a fast pace. Until...

He’s gone.

Nights you’ve spent awake, you’ve imagined yourself crumbling onto the ground, crying your heart out, but you don’t. You find yourself turning back and following his melancholic parents back to the car, where they’ll drop you at your house, and perhaps, you’ll cry then.

Months go by and you’re still waiting for a call from Taehyun, the time is a little bit over four in the morning, but you think that another day is about to go amiss. He’s gotten a little busier lately, but you suppose that you would do anything for him, even if it meant waking up at ungodly times so he could call you, patiently sitting in your bed for a response that would never come.

One word from you and I would Jump off of this Ledge I'm on Baby

You know that you told him not to worry about keeping up with you every day, that it was unnecessary, but you feel a certain amount of soreness in your muscles and in your bones.

The line rings for a while before it turns silent again and your heart burns, but you put it aside and instead decide to climb out of your window to watch the moon. The times that he’d called you, he seemed joyous and jubilant, with a bright smile that outshone the sun and the galaxies of burning stars. You think that’s he happier there, but that’s okay.

Everything is okay.

Though you wish that he faked his gleeful smiles, telling you “no” that the States sucked and the friends he’d made on the way could never compare with this small town. Just so you can, feel pitiful for him, for yourself, and all the stars that miss him on your rooftop. But you know that he’s ashamed.

Tell me "don't" So I can Crawl back in

As long as he came back to you.

One word from you and I would Jump off of this Ledge I'm on Baby

This is the second wedding you’ve been to, in a span of a few months. And it’s the first one that’s taken you out of the little town and out into the world.

Taehyun hadn’t kept your promise.

You blankly stare back at the wedding invitation in your hands, eyes furiously reading it over and over again, because there was no way that was real. Taehyun wasn’t getting married–who were you kidding? Taehyun wasn’t getting married, no not after just six years...that would be crazy. Extremely insane.

So why hasn’t he visited you so far? So why were you crying? You’re not sure, but your heart aches as you drag your eyes to the woman who is his fiancé. She’s pretty, but you’re sure that she could never compare with you, not eight years of love, since fucking fourth grade. Since that Valentine’s Day dance.

Taehyun’s wedding is going to be February thirteenth, just a day before your anniversary where you spend your day in your room crying over missed love.

You don’t know if you want to go anymore or not, or to even forgive him.

So I can Crawl back in

You wish that he hadn’t sent you this, so you could forever live in the shadows of your delusions that he would come back for you. But you would do anything for him. Even if he asked you to relive the heartbreak of your first love, once more.

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