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soocouldbemyonlystar · 4 years

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CTA: The Beginning

Genre: Chaebols AU/fluff

Length: 2.3k

The Arrangement Pt1

A/N: I know, this is long over due. I actually hit my goal in early December then we got word we were moving back home and there was packing and moving and unpacking and renovating and family then Covid. Oh yeah, I forgot the crushing weight of thinking this is crap and no one likes it... you know, all the awesome things my anxiety loves to make me believe. Anxiety can kiss my ass cause I love this edit and I hope you all do too.

Plump lips parted in a long sigh. Do Kyungsoo let his school bag slip off his shoulders and wiggled out of his navy blazer, hanging it in the closet next to his blue hoodie.

"Mom, I'm home," his voice cracked as he threw his bag back over his shoulder and made a dash for his room. He dodged Nari at the top of the stairs, narrowly avoiding the stack of towels she juggled.

"Slow down, Young Master," her tone was enough to hasten his speed.

"Good evening!" He sang to her, his deepening voice an unusually smooth lilt.

Nari set her lips in a straight line, but as Kyungsoo leveled his round eyes at her, blinking rapidly, she broke into a smile.

Waving him off, she continued down the stairs as he slipped into his room.

Changing out of his uniform was the best part of his day, though most days were spent entirely in that uniform. At least this one was more comfortable than the one he'd had for the last few years. High school did have some perks. It also came with more classes, harder curriculum and the added stress of worrying about college and career.

Not that he really had to worry about a career. He was an only child and as long as he wasn't a blithering idiot, he would inherit his family's business, The Ganghan Company.

And he wasn't a blithering idiot.

But, Kyungsoo didn't like school. In fact, he hated it. Tests, studying, and group projects where everyone was graded together. Kyungsoo was at the top of his class, but it wasn’t because he was particularly smart or liked to learn. It was what his parents expected of him. The long hours, constant studying, and after-hours cram school were all for his parents’ benefit.

It was a good thing that he happened to learn quickly. It never took him long to master a subject.

Kyungsoo dragged his books and journals out of his bag and set up his desk. There was a system, book to the left, journal to the right, pens and highlighters to the right of that. There had to be organization.

Kyungsoo popped on his headphones, turned up the music (Chanyeol's remix of American R&B songs) and began to study. There was a paper due soon and a round of exams that followed. He would likely be studying late into the night, which he hated since sleep was his one true love.

Once his groove was set, it would take a disaster to bring him out of it. Nothing short of an earthquake, or a tornado ripping the roof off could pull him from his concentration. Except his mom staring at him like a stalker from his bedroom door. He ripped the set off his ears in a frenzy.

"Jeez mom, could you announce yourself? You scared the crap out of me."

"I did. Your music was just too loud for you to hear it," she chided.

His mother approached with a tray loaded with spaghetti and bread sticks.

"Whaa, what is this for?" It was one of his favorite dishes, but it was rarely made in the house. He was lucky his parents allowed him to try whatever he wanted when they ate at restaurants, but at home, it was strictly traditional.

"It’s been a while," she sat it on the space he had cleared off, "and you have been working so hard lately."

"Got tests coming up," he said between bites.

"There is something I wanted to ask you though, completely unrelated to the food."

"Mmm," Kyungsoo only gave half his attention. Nari’s spaghetti was too good to not savor every bite.

"Lee Jae-Eun is going to the same academy as you now."

He grunted, "Who… oh… you mean Auntie Joo Hyuns’ daughter?"

"Yes."

"Ehh,” he shrugged, “What about her?"

She sighed, “well… her mother is afraid there are some girls that pick on her. I was hoping you could keep an eye out for me?"

"Mom… no! That's creepy." Kyungsoo moped.

"Oh, really Kyungsoo! I'm not talking about stalking her. Just keep an eye out. Her brothers are older, one has already been sent to the states and the other doesn’t see her during school hours. If you see something just let me know. Or maybe stand up for her."

"I don't get involved in other peoples’ problems, Mom."

"Well that's a lie if I ever heard one. Do you think I didn't know that you hid Park Chanyeol in this room for two weeks last year when he fought with his father? Why do you think there was extra food on your dinner plate?" She scolded.

"Uhh… but he's my best friend." Kyungsoo's voice cracked. He hated it when that happened.

"You have eight best friends, and you would help any one of them. This is my one and only best friend’s daughter. She's practically family. Please help me out this once." His mother pushed.

She had a point. Their families ran in the same circles, they attended the same parties… only neither of them were particularly social. There was only one time they had met that he could remember, when they were 6 or 7. He had just wanted to read his books, and Jae-Eun just wanted to draw in them. Kyungsoo hid any time their moms were together. He had so little interaction with her he couldn’t even remember what she looked like.

Only the fact his mother had let slip that she wanted them or marry. Jae-Eun was the girl they intended to be his wife.

Kyungsoo sighed, he should have known it was no use to say no, he could never deny his mother. "Alright, I'll keep an eye out and if I see anything, I will let you know. But that's it."

His mother wrapped her arms around Kyungsoo's shoulders, squeezing tightly.

"Thank you, my sweet boy."

Kyungsoo shrugged her off. Ugg, feelings! Why did his mom have to hug so much?

"Okay, okay! Don't get so worked up about it."

She snatched her hands away. "Right, you're a high schooler now. Too cool for mom."

His mothers’ attempt to be understanding elicited a groan from Kyungsoo.

"I’ve got to study." A feeling of guilt washed over him for brushing her off, but he just didn't like to be touched. He sighed in relief when she left his room.

Kyungsoo put his headphones back on and read as he finished his dinner.

****

He didn't keep an eye out.

As a matter of fact, Kyungsoo completely forgot about the conversation. Tests and papers filled his time, friends took up what was left. It wasn't that he didn't think it was important. He did, but Kyungsoo's mom had just asked at the wrong time. There were too many coals in his fire.

Two weeks passed. The girl didn't even cross his mind. He aced his test and got a perfect score on his essay. He should be skating easy right now, but his super, awesome best friend, Byun Baekhyun nominated him as class leader at the beginning of the year and somehow, he won. Being class leader came with certain responsibilities, like running errands for the teacher.

It was pushing into his lunch time, and that was an unforgivable offence. Stupid responsibilities, stupid Baek and his stupid volunteering, making Kyungsoo be social when all he wanted was to keep his head down and get through this.

He took the south stairs, it was rarely used and popped out conveniently near the teachers’ offices. Getting this done and making it to lunch was top priority. This was one of those times when lunch would be the only break he had for the day, unfortunately luck was not on his side.

Between the second and third floors, a group of girls had another one cornered. Kyungsoo slowed, it would be better to take another route, he didn't want to get involved in someone else's mess.

It was that moment, as he turned away, he remembered what his mother asked. Kyungsoo swiveled on his heels and crept further down the stairs. Han Bora and her cronies circled the girl, her face hidden from him.

"You think you are so much better than everyone else. Just because your parents are rich you turn your nose up at everyone," Bora mocked.

"That makes no sense, your parents are rich too or you wouldn't be in this school. Not that it seems to be helping you much," the girl replied.

Bora huffed, "this girl… yah, Lee Jae-Eun… I'm your senior in this school. You think you can talk to me like that?"

Kyungsoo's eyes widened. So, Lee Jae-Eun WAS being bullied, and he had to come upon it today of all days.

"You have to give respect to earn respect." Jae-Eun said simply, holding her books to her chest.

Bora's best friend Choi Min-Ji flung her hand, smacking the books out of Jae-Eun's arms. Jae-Eun stumbled backward in surprise and another girl shoved her back to Bora.

"I should teach you a lesson. Knock some sense into you."

Jae-Eun held her head high, "Will that make you feel better about yourself?"

"Hey…" Bora yelled. Then she swung.

The slap bounced through the empty halls.

It echoed in Kyungsoo's head. Long, dark, hair flew in a fan as Jae-Eun's head spun from the force. It made Kyungsoo's stomach turn. He considered stepping in but Jae-Eun straightened, raising her head to Bora in defiance.

"Maybe you should try that again, you're still ugly inside."

What the hell? Why would she provoke Bora further? The girl wasn't one to be intimidated nor was she forgiving. Jae-Eun would only make it harder for herself. He had attended school with Han Bora for most of his life. Last year, while she was in high school and he was still in middle, was the most peaceful year he had experienced.

Another slap rang out across the halls and Kyungsoo's stomach dropped to the floor. He should do something. At least help her escape.

Before he could come to his senses, the folder flew out of his grasp, raining paper down the stairwell. His hands held tight to the rail as he faked his feet out from under him and stumbled down the remaining steps.

"Sorry… sorry, excuse me," he clumsily reached for his papers and Jae-Eun's books as Bora and her minions laughed.

Kyungsoo straightened the papers in the folder, keeping his head low. He would be embarrassed if someone walked up on him being bullied, the girl probably didn't want to be seen.

A stray paper appeared in his gaze. His eyes lifted, and met hers, Lee Jae-Eun. She knelt directly in front of him. Wide eyes were on his, both cheeks an apple red.

He couldn't turn away. She looked different from the picture his mother had recently shown him, her school picture from the year before. The round face had thinned out, making her appear older, her eyes seemed more exotic, lips fuller. His tongue darted out nervously to moisten his own.

She wiggled the paper in front of him. Kyungsoo blinked, dropping his gaze again, taking the paper she offered.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"Mmm," she acknowledged him, pivoting to gather her books. Taking advantage of the girls’ amusement, Jae-Eun slipped past them and scurried down the stairs.

His heart pounded. What the hell had just happened? Why had he just stared at her like an idiot? Damn, he was an idiot. She had escaped, and he was surrounded by girls.

"Hey, Do Kyungsoo, do you like her or something?" Bora laughed.

He didn't even know her, but he sure as hell was impressed so far. If she were to be his future wife, he couldn't find it in him to be mad.

And he protected what was his.

"Han Bora," he faced her, his deep voice steady and solid, "Don't mess with her again. This is the only time I'll ask."

Laughter rang out among the girls again.

"Or what? You don't scare me, the school doesn't scare me, my parents don't even scare me!"

Maybe not, but he could guess what did.

"Choi Min-Ji, your parents work at Ganghan, don't they? Kim Young-Ah, yours too? And Bora, your dads’ even a Chairman for Ganghan. I've seen all three of you at Ganghan company parties. MY companies’ parties."

Kyungsoo wasn't familiar with using intimidation, but somehow, he felt he could pull it off. Astigmatism caused him to squint and look angry most of the time. His voice wasn't even cracking, it was low and smooth and felt a little dangerous. If they kept messing with Jae-Eun, he would be.

"It would be a shame if they were to suddenly find themselves out of a job, connections gone with no prospects. That life you're so used to, this fancy school you think you run all a distant memory. You’d lose that nice, big house and be sent to a public school. You’d actually have to do your classwork; daddy wouldn’t have the money to pay off your teachers then." He glanced at the other three girls who followed her around. "I bet I could find where your parents work as well. Ganghan reach is quite extensive."

Bora huffed, "you couldn't… you wouldn't."

"I can and will if I hear you mess with her again."

The girls fell deadly quiet. The fear in their eyes told Kyungsoo he had made an impact. He could get used to that.

"Why would you defend her? What is she to you?" Bora shook her head in disbelief.

Kyungsoo stuck his hand in his pocket and started down the stairs, "She's family."

He left the six girls in the stairwell to finish his duties, confusion on their faces.

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chessireneko · 5 years

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“I need a gangsta

To love me better

Than all the others do

To always forgive me

Ride or die with me

That's just what gangsters do”

|| M A S T E R L I S T ||

#kmoodboardnet #artificialkpopnet #kpoploversnet #kpopwonderlandtag #kloversnet #exo #chanyeol #park chanyeol #exo chanyeol #exo moodboard #chanyeol moodboard #kpop moodboard #mafia #gangster

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 5 years

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Only the One You Love, part 7 (A Kyungsoo Series)

Genre: Angst / Romance

Characters: You X Kyungsoo

Only the One you Love[M]: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

“Are you scared of me now?”

Kyungsoo always saw too much.

It wasn’t even like you could deny it. He could feel it in the distance you kept during the kiss. He probably bumped up against the stout wall you had installed around your heart when he got close enough to be classified as a minor threat.

But this was something you could handle. You had prepared for this much at least. You knew that in coming to Korea, the chances of running into him again were very high.

You hadn’t quite figured out a plan of action in the off-chance that a casual run-in turned into a drunken hookup and subsequent morning-after love confession with whimpering apologies from both sides, but what you knew for certain was that you weren’t about to fall again.

You wouldn’t let yourself be put into the position to be hurt again. If you had to keep him at arm’s length to make that happen then that’s simply what you would do. The softness you saw in his eyes when he looked at you; the hurt you could read like a graphic novel on his oversized features could poke and prod at you all it wanted; you would not waver. You had survived the last six months, what was a few more minutes with him close enough to hold; close enough to touch; close enough for the warmth of his lips to leave a lingering tingle?

You took your time answering his question. It was a heavy one — Were you scared of him? — your tongue felt too dry when you finally coaxed some motion from it.

His eyes glanced down at your lips when you spoke.

“I would say,” you inhaled with the words as you searched through your vocabulary for the right one and midway through the exhale you continued, “I’m smarter now.”

Your answer sent him moving. His eyes fell from your face and his hand lifted to tap fingertips in an absent-minded drift over his furrowed eyebrows and he blinked fast with the harsh lighting from your bathroom vanity reflecting a flickering wetness in his eyes.

“I think I’m just going to focus on being more careful with myself from now on.” And with my heart — but, you held the word back.

“Because you’re scared of me,” he spoke again, repeating the same words as before only this time his hand fell over his eyes as he closed out the world for a moment. It wasn't a question this time. Your response had solidified in his mind the real reason for your reluctance for closeness. The real reason why you were so desperate now to get him out of your home. Kyungsoo could feel it and he was reeling as he took a step back.

His shoulder hit a door frame and he was out of places to go. This bathroom was tiny, just as the rest of your apartment was tiny and you listened to the sounds of the water from the shower behind you, running down the drain. There was a very slight mist in the air from the steam the hot water produced. It was hardly enough to fog the mirror even. Kyungsoo’s reflection looked clear enough for you to easily make out the pained lines on his face that his hands rubbed over. You could see the tremble in those hands and when he dropped them, his head sagged forward.

“I’ll,” he swallowed roughly and the words were interrupted by the breath he pulled, “fix it. I can fix this, please...if you—”

There was a war inside your chest. You hated the admission. You hated this truth.

Yes. You were scared.

“—if you just let me try—”

You were terrified. You were so frightened that he would reach out and rip the last bits of your heart out that you wanted nothing more to do with it. You wanted him to leave. You wanted the temptation of the warmth and kindness in his eyes to vanish so you wouldn't have to resist him any longer. How much longer could you possibly say no to him before the single syllable changed to ‘well… maybe.’

Kyungsoo’s focus was on you again and you caught a flash of movement in his posture. A shift of his balance that made him surge forward. It was minimal in depth yet when he moved you moved; only your legs carried you in the opposite direction. Away from his advancement. You stepped back as he stepped forward and he noticed it.

And he stopped.

Your ears were humming. The thick steam that poured from the shower clouded your peripheral vision and Kyungsoo lifted both of his hands to cover of his nose and his mouth as he gasped once softly and shook his head in a shallow rocking motion.

“You,” the hands muffled his words, “don't want me here. You don't want me close to you at all.” He sounded close to tears to finally know this ugly truth about you.

No. No, this was vulgar. This beautiful human before you should not feel such pain; you could feel the shards of your heart scraping and clawing inside of your rib cage and it begged and it pleaded for some way to comfort him but your mind would win with its common sense and timer that ticked down the minutes until this whole ordeal was over, the knowledge that he would leave and take with him every last chance you had at a love so painful and all-consuming — your rationality held on fast and you stood stubbornly on your own two feet, curled into yourself with arms wrapped tightly around your stomach to keep your insides from spilling out all over the floor. You had to try your hardest to keep yourself together right now. You were the only one you could count on for this.

“Kyungsoo,” you spoke over the sound of the running water and your heart and your mind were at war, “I just... I can’t.”

“You can’t what? You can’t be with me? You can’t forgive me? You can’t be in the same room as me?”

You felt like your voice had been snatched away and you hated this look on his face. It crushed you. It destroyed you. How had you gone from so determined... to this?

He still had your heart and all of the power of such an absolute ownership. But you had what was left of your pride and it would have to do.

The steam was beginning to thin now. The hot water was gone and nothing at all had been accomplished with it. What a waste.

So much time had passed that you were certain a few more minutes here and he would miss his second flight. The consequences of this were beginning to stack; mounted up high as each moment brought with it more and more real-life dangers. Greater than just the damage to your silly little heart.

“Kyungsoo, your flight.” You whispered it like the filthy word it was and you felt like a coward or calling upon such an excuse.

“I’ll go,” he said with his eyes wide and trained down at the floor below his legs. It was trance-like, the way he responded. “I’ll go because you want me to go, but I’m still going to fix this.”

When he looked up into your face you could see the clarity of the room written all over his face. And he was looking into your eyes with a different look; different than before. It was brazen and it was oddly strong. A new aura you hadn’t seen all morning was bursting through his big brown eyes and he aimed them in your direction.

“Look, I made a mistake. That was me...my faults, my insecurities— I’m the one that fucked this up. You said that you’re smarter now but there wasn’t anything dumb about falling in love and honestly when I thought that I’d never see you again...it fucking killed me.” He held you in his gaze as he spoke to you, legs no longer standing within the doorway of your bathroom. He had already taken several steps away from you the moment he noticed you flinch away from him.

“And I know you haven’t said it yet—” he was leaving as promised but your heart held onto him and pulled hard. It had no effect. His feet kept on retreating and he was leaving now. Just as you had wanted. Right?

“—but I know you still love me. You’re hiding it — trying to be strong or ..or stubborn—” His vision sharpened and he lost some of his gumption on the word stubborn when the mention of such a bratty word made your lips pull into a frown and you did not fight the urge to roll your eyes. As if this was mere stubbornness. As if a broken heart could be labeled with such a word. Stubborn was something a petulant child was. You had been nearly destroyed. You were trying to live now.

“—or whatever it is but it’s still there, I know it. You still love me too...you just have to remember it.”

As if you could ever forget. You were biting down on your bottom lip with such a force that it was beginning to feel sore between your teeth. Your arms were crossed over your chest so tightly your muscles felt the strain and he wasn’t waiting for any more of a response from you. He was leaving. You held him in your sights until he simply was not there anymore.

“I’ll see you in Japan.” He called out from the living room and you felt the forceful exhale of the breath you had been holding send your body downward as your legs sank and your used up body leaned against the bathroom wall.

The soft click of your front door closing was the final sound to come from outside of your bathroom and you took a full five minutes of existing in your own skin before you pulled your bones back up with your own muscles and pulled the T-shirt roughly from your body.

You leaped into the ice-cold stream of running water and your lungs gasped as the freezing cold inundated your every cell. You sputtered and you shook and withstood the shock of it until your persistence began to pay off and you could feel your body becoming numb to it. Growing used to the pain until you hardly even noticed it anymore. It was an excellent metaphor for your existence up until this point in Korea and if you could take this, then you might just be able to withstand whatever other bullshit was coming next.

Your rescheduled flight to Osaka was easy enough to arrange and by the time the wheels touched down on the runway you were beginning to feel the strong clutches of that morning’s hangover headache finally beginning to fade.

The headache medicine you picked up with the emergency contraceptive pills at the pharmacy on the way to the airport helped ease you into your recovery and with a little food in your belly, you actually began to feel like you might just live to see another day.

You didn’t usually travel alone on work assignments. Perhaps this slip of your memory had one benefit; your flight was peaceful. Not that you wanted extra time to sit and stew inside your own head particularly, but at least you didn’t have to converse with anyone in a language that took just enough effort to become exhausting after a while.

It was probably because you lived here now, in Korea, but lately, you’d been feeling more and more fatigued with the language. Not the translating itself, that was fine and only sporadically demanding, but spending day after day talking to so many people had begun to make you feel rather worn down. It hadn’t been like this before moving here and you attributed it to the change in your job. More responsibilities, more stress — that sorta thing.

Your mind wandered in the taxi to the hotel and you recalled the phone calls in the beginning. The long video calls with Kyungsoo in which you’d go on for what felt like hours about your day. The days when you came to visit him and you’d spend entire nights up late with him just talking and talking about anything and everything you could both think to talk about. The last thing you had longed for was peace and quiet. You craved his words and he pulled yours from your own lips with open-ended questions an insatiable need to know everything you possibly had to share with him. You’d never grown tired of it. Not like now.

It had to be the move. It had to be the full and total immersion in a new country and the demands of your new job.

When you arrived at the hotel you keyed a quick text to the manager in charge of on-location staff assignments and you were instructed on your reporting location to begin your preparations for the fan meeting. There were scripts to go over for final approval, teams of staff members who approached you for small tasks and larger tasks, and all at once you were back into it. There was a rush. This felt hectic just like it had felt with EXO in Europe last year and you felt at times that a single translator on staff might not be enough for all of the work. If only you could split your body into two and handle two of the tasks at once then perhaps you could sign off on these interview questions while simultaneously monitoring the group chats of which you had multiple notifications flashing; all of them needed your attention.

Time was moving too fast and you limped along trying to catch up with the rush of work your late arrival had piled upon you. You’d had to pee for the better part of an hour and you couldn't even think about sitting down to eat something. There was simply so much work and not enough time. There was equipment to wear; an earpiece and mic that would feed your voice into the ears of select staff and group members for you to provide real-time translations as the show progressed.

The hosts spoke and you spoke, usually reading along from the already pre-approved script of questions and commentary, but careful to pay close attention for ad-libs and changes and when it came time for you to translate for the members as they addressed the audience, the sensation of hearing your own voice echoing throughout the entire arena to raucous applause and screams was about as surreal as it could get.

Your performance was far from perfect. You stumbled on a few words and especially upon hearing the sound of your own voice over that crowd, you could feel the pressure mounting inside of your chest. Your mind blanked on a few words and you had to scramble while still trying to sound as professional as possible to find another way to say things. The whole experience left you feeling hot in the face and flustered as hell and you have never been so happy to witness the final reluctant goodbyes at the end of an event in your whole life.

The members waved their hands and blew their kisses and the fans in the crowd screamed and cried and you felt like you might just collapse from the genuine relief that it was actually finally over.

You had done it. It was done. Bumbles and mistakes had been made. There was nothing you could do about that now. It was over. You pulled the wiring from around your neck, removing the earpiece carefully as you unplugged yourself and handed off the equipment to the member of staff who was collecting mics to carefully catalog and place into rightful locations and you honestly could feel a cold sweat all over your skin. Your hands were shaking and you felt just a little nauseated. You needed some downtime. You still had to pee but also you needed to sit in complete silence in a bathroom stall and not have to say another word to another human being for at least a few minutes. An hour was out of the question; your phone was already vibrating with message notifications.

You left your phone inside your back pocket and made your way toward the bathrooms. It could wait. Whatever it was could wait for five minutes.

You found the bathrooms and your bladder was screaming as you pushed through the stall door, quickly pulled down your jeans and heard the sound before you felt the rectangle piece of technology that you had very thoughtlessly left in your back pocket vanish with a clunk and splash combination.

Shit.

Fuck.

Shit and Fuck!

You stood in a flash and turned to look inside the toilet bowl; every single wasted wish and hope you had used up from the falling stars and blown out birthday candles mocking you as you spun to look. Please, please, please no, not your phone. Not in the toilet, not the 3-year-old treasure you held closest to your heart that was so full of your entire life you never even considered going through the trouble of replacing it. It was an older model. Definitely not waterproof and there it sat at the bottom of the toilet bowl. Tiny bubbles were rising from the corner and you leaped into action.

Fuck hygiene, this was an emergency. You reached into the water and pulled it out and it dripped and dripped as the water drained from the inside pouring back into the toilet bowl. You scrambled for some paper. For anything to dry it, anything to save this and it was so blank and so black and so dead looking and it was still dripping.

You pressed the buttons on the side. You pressed the home button, you held buttons down, you shook out the rest of the water from somewhere inside the bottom speaker and the toilet paper stuck to your fingers when you tried to blot and dry as much as possible.

Your messages. Your photos. Your whole life.

The phone had soaked up that water like a sponge and you could feel the stress from the day mounting over your head because you still had to pee, goddammit!

You stared down at the phone, sitting motionless on a pile of wet paper and even the relief of emptying your bladder could not have any sort of significant impact on you now.

You had the pictures with him in there.

There was an entire folder dedicated to him. Dated pictures that documented every single visit, every single dish you both made together, every single gift exchanged. Super secret folders with passwords to protect them with pictures you both took together. A kiss on the cheek, a sweet smile on his face. A giggle when his eyes disappeared completely. The video you snuck while he slept one night and you were elated to capture the sound of your name mumbled in his sleep.

All gone.

You sat on the toilet in silence. This wasn’t the kind of silence you craved a few minutes ago. And yet you were bathed in it now. With filthy feeling hands and a useless and broken phone and a useless and broken heart inside your chest and your emotions mounting the longer you sat here remembering everything that had been on that phone.

It was gone and he was gone too.

The burning began in your eyes and it only lasted a second before you felt the tears cresting and spilling down your cheeks. Your nose stuffed up almost instantly and you felt consumed by loss.

At least you were alone. Your lungs trembled and stuttered and you breathed through your mouth as the tears fell endlessly down your face and you cried. You cried for the memories, you cried for the love and for the disappointment of it all. You cried for yourself and you cried for Kyungsoo and you cried and you cried alone in this bathroom in an event venue in Osaka, Japan when you really should have been finding some sort of solution to this.

Maybe you could save it. Maybe you could open it up and dry it with a hotel blow dryer, or maybe you could find a kitchen and find some rice to soak it in overnight, you had heard once that that was the way to fix wet phones.

You couldn't just cry about this. You had to get up and out of here and do something to fix this. Weren’t there people who could fix these things? Cell phone repair shops who dealt with water damage and data recovery who would go into your phone and find your super secret photos of your super celebrity idol boyfriend and you locked in a fucking selfie kiss and possibly take that photo and spread it all over the internet and cause a career-ending scandal?

Fuck.

Still, you were up and out of the stall. Still, you were washing your hands and shaking every last drop of water from out of your phone as you attempted to somehow cleanse the outside of it with paper towels because of disgusting toilet water and all the potential bio-contaminants that involved.

You were thinking of e-coli and botulism and Ebola and any number of other things that could possibly attach to your face if ever you held this thing up to your ear once more.

You wrapped it in the paper towels and held it just a little more carefully away from you as you moved and a quick glance in the mirror told you that while it did look like you had been crying, your makeup had been waterproof and your face had an after-crying glow that honestly didn’t look too bad. At worst you looked a bit drunk maybe.

You vacated the bathroom in search of some solution.

What you found was a dressing room with the letters EXO on them and you knew you would encounter plenty of staff members inside to at least help you brainstorm your next move. Perhaps they had a stash of staff phones they could let you use for the rest of this assignment so you could log in to the messenger program and continue your work duties.

On the other side of the door was a flurry of movement and activity. Staff worked to de-wardrobe, label, and organize items and bodies were moving in all directions as people did their jobs quickly so they could be done with it and finally get to close out this day’s schedule properly.

A pair of eyes caught your own and having finished changing his clothes he looked up from his seated position on a sofa in the center of the room with a genuine double take at your state.

Had you really looked that upset? You were probably a damn mess. You could feel the remnants of your emotions sitting at the back of your throat and Sehun stood up and took strides in your direction with a question on his eyebrows.

“Hey...you okay?” his head dropped close to your level and you shook your head back and forth as you held your hands out to show him your dead phone carefully wrapped in several brown paper towels from the bathroom.

It hadn’t occurred to you that he wouldn't know what you were showing him. Something hidden inside paper towels. He reached forward, ready to receive your terrible offering and you pulled it back quickly, not wanting him to catch a public toilet disease by touching this thing with his bare hands.

“I dropped my phone in the toilet.” You spoke through gritted teeth but you could hear the whining complaint on your own voice.

Saying it though, out loud, with your own mouth was so much worse than the incredulous repetition you had been replaying in disbelief inside your head.

Sehun snorted instantly and his hand flew up to cover his mouth and he didn't try that hard to hide the laughter that was very obviously shaking his shoulders.

“Oh...my god,” he whispered with a dramatic pause between the words for emphasis and you groaned and stomped your foot that he would dare laugh at you in your time of complete and utter disaster.

“Sehun,” you whispered harshly but it was no use reprimanding him because he had already covered his face with his open palms and he openly laughed so much harder when you scolded him.

“I’m sorry,” he said between big gasps for air, “It’s just...the way you’re holding it seemed like you found a dead bird or something.”

“Oh shit, are you really crying?” His laughter quieted down when your lips frowned down into the saddest pout at your terrible, terrible luck and you were about to leave this useless man in search of someone else — anyone else who could actually help you when a second face appeared beside the, now concerned, Oh Sehun.

His face was equally concerned to see you sniffling and wiping stray tears from below your eyes and you were trying your best to control this. The more attention your quiet sniffles garnered, the more you wanted to turn and run out of the room.

The wide eyes of the man standing beside Sehun turned on him and you flinched when a hand reached up and roughly smacked the taller man on the shoulder.

“What the hell did you do?” Junmyeon, the leader of the group was hissing angrily at Sehun and you lifted your phone up quickly to protest. But more faces were appearing beside Sehun and Junmyeon now and there was a bit of a circle gathering. Oh god, you were a spectacle.

“I’m sorry for whatever happened, but sometimes our Sehun, he seems very mad or angry but really,” Junmyeon addressed you with a nervous smile on his lips and reached his own hand up to wave over the length of his own face, “he has a sleepy bitch face. That is just his face.”

Sehun’s expression had shifted at being blamed for this and he lifted his head to toss it back in annoyance. A loud sigh vacated his lungs and he rolled his eyes hard.

“Resting, Junmyeon. It’s a resting bitch face. God, how many times...”

“Sehun didn’t do anything. I’ve...dropped—” you lifted the phone toward the center of the circle of faces that had gathered. The commotion was already set into motion and Minseok had joined in the investigation of what exactly Sehun had or hadn’t done to make you cry.

Only Minseok had noticed that you held something in your hands and your words were out of your lips just after he had grabbed the brown paper towel wrapped phone from your hands.

“—my phone in the toilet.” The paper towels had fallen open enough for Minseok’s hand to grip around your phone briefly and it took him a good three seconds to register what you had actually said. The motion must have shaken some more drops of water from the inside.

“Oh my god, it’s wet. Why is this wet? Why is my hand wet right now?” His voice had risen by octaves and he quickly opened his hand to send the phone falling back down where it missed your hands holding the paper towels and clattered down onto the floor between everyone’s legs.

Heads looked down.

“I dropped it in the toilet,” you whispered with your voice thick with shame and your face felt like you’d been lounging in the fire pits of hell.

Minseok was green. He was waving his hands up and down rapidly and making gagging sounds and you frowned down at the now cracked phone screen of your dead phone.

“Why is Minseok freaking out?” Jongdae had arrived at the circle and stood beside Manager Lee and Manager Park who both looked down at the device with matching disinterested expressions on their faces.

“Put it in some rice,” Jongin chimed in from the sofa he seemed to be glued to, “I’ve dropped lots of phones in water. You put them in rice and they wake back up.”

“Where is she going to get rice right now?” Sehun asked Jongin who rolled his eyes as he looked up from his phone screen for a moment.

“Uhh...this is Japan, Sehun. She can just, like, go outside and get some rice on the street,” and as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he held his hands out like a game show hostess showing off the fancy prizes up for grabs. “We are in Japan.”

“Did you pee on it?” Chanyeol’s baritone chimed in and you shook your head vehemently with your eyes as wide as could be. He gasped softly and he leaned in closer to you. “Was it the other one?” Chanyeol held up his fingers in a V shape, quietly asking about the other bodily function that might have happened with the phone inside the toilet and you wanted to just die.

You wished for a hole to climb into. Everyone was talking at once. This was a terrible situation that was becoming worse with each new witness who arrived to gawk.

“Toilet water on his hands,” Junmyeon responded to Jongdae’s question and the later wrinkled his nose in disgust, “She dropped her phone in the toilet and Minseok picked it up...got it on his hands. He’s going to be washing for hours tonight.”

Jongdae clicked his tongue and shook his head back and forth.

You crouched down on your ankles to grasp the phone within the paper towels again and cradled it between your parted knees with great care; as if all of the damage that could come to the device hadn’t already occurred.

“It looks kinda old, maybe it was time to replace it.” Sehun offered as he joined you down on the floor where you sunk down to sulk.

“It had everything on it, Sehun. My whole life. Pictures, videos...work. I have so much work I still need to do and I need my phone to do it. How will I get through the fanmeeting tomorrow without a phone? Do you know how much work gets done while I’m on the move?”

“Maybe you can use a replacement for now and we can take that one to get fixed when we get back to Seoul...Hmm?” Junmyeon was speaking down to you like you were an upset child he tried to pacify. He bent in half at the waist to join the pow-wow on the floor and you looked around to see that most of the half-interested parties to witness the spectacle had lost interest by now and wandered away. Minseok had disappeared quickly and you were certain that the running water you could hear coming from the dressing room bathroom was him scrubbing his hands.

“Does anyone have a spare phone on them? Baekhyun you have two phones right?” Junmyeon was asking the room and several faces looked away as soon as the question was raised.

Baekhyun, who had been sitting on a nearby sofa with his head tossed back in half nap, half exhausted coma lifted his head for a moment.

“Why is this an our problem and not a her problem?” Junmyeon stood and leaned in Baekhyun’s direction with his jaw clenched and his face pink.

“Because she’s the one that Sehun li— knows. Sehun knows, h-his friend. She is his friend so she’s our friend. Why are you like this?”

“I need my phones,” Baekhyun said dismissively, closing his eyes up tight as his head fell back into place to rest against the back of the sofa.

A hand appeared. A hand holding a phone, and you stared down at that hand that held the phone out for you to take. The owner of the hand spoke and you jumped at the low voice that coated your eardrums and your heart and your entire existence in warmth.

“Here,” he said and the phone in his hand illuminated with the movement.

“I have two. Use this one for now.” Kyungsoo spoke beside you and you looked at the phone he presented you with. The phone he offered was the kind of familiar that singed your skin and prickled your memory and you could feel the protest on your tongue long before you followed his arm up to his shoulder to look into that calculated and blank look on his face that he kept controlled as he interacted with you in front of the others.

“Oh good. This will work for now. So you can get your work done, right?” Junmyeon was smiling wide at the obvious display of teamwork before him — a valuable member of the group taking care of another member so they could get their job done, for the good of everybody involved, for the good of EXO (We Are One) — you could see the relief and pride written all over Junmyeon’s face as he looked at Kyungsoo.

“K-Kyungsoo, I don’t think—”

“It already has the apps we use. You can just log in and see all of your messages and emails and everything. You won’t be able to get a replacement phone by tonight and tomorrow will be too busy. Just use it.”

He was waiting for you to take it.

Sehun, Junmyeon, Jongdae, Chanyeol, and Jongin all waited for you to take it. Even Baekhyun from the sofa peeled an eyelid open to watch you take it.

Manager Lee clapped his hands once and the members' heads turned to listen as he announced 15 minutes before the vans left for the hotel and people were on the move again rushing to pack up belongings and finish last minute activities and you reluctantly reached for the phone that Kyungsoo still held in his hands.

He watched your face carefully as you gripped it and there was a slow motion blink of his eyes that made a wave of heat travel through your chest.

He stood on his legs and reached down to grab your hand and pull you into a standing position and then he leaned close to whisper into your ear, careful to drop your hand from his as soon as you were in an upright position.

“Password’s your birthday.”

He pivoted on his feet, leaving you here in the center of the dressing room with his own personal phone, the one he’d used to call you with late at night when you dated him. The one he’d texted you with and video called you with and the one who’s screen he’d kissed many times when he couldn’t kiss you in person because of the distance.

The one he’d used to break up with you.

“Kyungsoo,” you called toward his retreating back and he spun to look at you with raised eyebrows behind his round glasses. “I’ll give it back as soon as we get to Seoul.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Keep it as long as you need it,” he said with a concealed smile inside his eyes.

“I won’t look at anything in it either,” you said much quieter this time and with just a bit of sarcastic notes in your voice.

“You can look at all of it,” he said and the smile in his eyes was gone, “You already have the password for everything.”

Your looming work deadlines overshadowed your sense of danger. It didn’t mean you couldn’t feel it, but you honestly didn’t have much of a choice. Kyungsoo was the only person in the entire room to offer you a solution that wasn’t soak the phone in rice and pray and he had already left for whatever task he had been in the middle of when you had barged your crisis-having, weeping self into his dressing room.

So you turned to the phone — Kyungsoo’s phone — tried your best not to be too annoyed by the all of the unread messages and waiting texts and missed call notifications you saw all over the damn thing (what was wrong with him?) and you logged him out to log yourself in where you needed to be.

The messages had piled up. Had you really been offline for a whole hour directly after a high profile event in your target language where you were required to vet a huge amount of official statements and articles that represented the company, the group, and the brand of EXO? You were glued to the phone for the entire ride back to the hotel and paused only for a moment to search for your room key so you could get to your laptop and finally close out the last of your tasks from today’s fan meeting. You had planned on showering and having a quick in-room dinner before final script approvals for tomorrow’s event.

Your self-control was impressive if you didn’t say so yourself. Although being so busy that you didn’t even have time to go to the bathroom without taking your laptop with you probably helped fuel the self-control.

Kyungsoo’s phone — it had its own tempting little voice that called to you from the coffee table — had been left completely and surprisingly unexplored by the time you signed off on the final script translations and you’d watched it sitting there out of the corner of your eye as you grabbed the remote control and flipped on the tv. The phone lit up a few times as non-urgent group chat messages arrived for you and then a longer buzz sounded out. And it didn’t quit.

Oh shit, it was ringing. Kyungsoo’s phone was ringing. You looked at the screen and read the word Mom on the illuminated screen and that single word sent a wave of tension through your body that started at your head and landed somewhere deep inside your belly.

You shouldn’t answer it, right? Your hands were on the phone and your grip was faltering on the second ring.

What would you even say to her?

You did suppose that you could simply explain how you, a vetted S.M. employee, had his phone for the time being and her son was unavailable but you’d be sure to let him know she called.

That was the professional thing to do. It was the kind thing to do also. It was your fault that he didn’t get to speak with his mother right now after the schedule had been completed for the night and he would have had enough time for a talk with his mom. You knew how busy he was and how rarely he got to actually connect with her. Your guilt multiplied the longer the phone rang.

The call had rung it’s third and fourth ring and you watched as the phone went silent in your hands. The screen went black and after a few seconds of staring at the blackness, the phone buzzed again briefly indicating that she had left a voicemail.

What if it was something important?

What if something was wrong?

You no longer hesitated. A trek through his contacts brought up a sparse list. Mom, Dad, a couple of managers and some of his actor friends. Slithering by down the list was his dog sitter Sunny— as pretty a thing as she was annoying (ugh), and your frustrations magnified upon the realization that he did not have his work phone number saved in this phone. But then again, why would he? What reason in the world would he have to call himself?

What he did have saved was your name with a little red emoji heart trailing behind it.

You glared at the heart and the heart glared back at you.

And then your fingers were moving.

It was that damn heart. How could he still have that damn heart?

You jumped to his text messages and scrolled through the chains searching for the color red. It was far down on the list but it was there. The final messages exchanged with each other weren’t angry. They weren’t bitter or harsh. You scrolled and you scrolled and you saw kindness. You saw sweetness and splashes of love. Like a relic frozen in time — the unearthed bones of a pair of lovers — buried alive and in their final moment, their last breath was a kiss.

You hadn’t been able to delete them either.

You closed out of the text messages. You were already in this deep. Hadn’t he given you permission to look anyway? There wasn’t even a ceremonial pause in your movements where you second guessed yourself. How far had you fallen now?

His photo gallery was organized in folders and honestly, it was mostly pictures of food. Very few personal pictures despite the careful labeling system he used for his photos. You honestly felt disappointed. Your gallery had been full of pictures. Personal pictures and pictures of places you’d traveled for work. The really personal ones though...the pictures that stabbed and burned when you looked with your weakest moments to blame; those were in hidden folders with passwords for extra security.

He…would not have done the same, would he? His phone was a bit different than yours, but your snooping had unearthed what you were certain was a hidden folder within his photo gallery. A little trip through the phone settings and you were prompted for a passcode. It was four digits this time; different than the six-digit passcode to unlock the phone and you typed in the month and date of your birthday.

It did not work.

You tried once more with the same numbers; perhaps you had entered it wrong.

It still would not open and you sighed out in frustration that he would trick you like this. He said you had his permission to look and he said you had all of the passwords to get in, and yet you sat here now, trying every single four-digit number combination that you could think of feeling like a damn fool and a little bit like a bumbling novice phone hacker without a single bit of savvy to get the hacking job done.

Your frustrations mounted when the phone alerted you that after whatever number of failed log-in attempts you would now be required to wait 30 seconds before trying again and you tossed it angrily down on the table in front of you.

You had tried your birthday, his birthday, your birth year, his birth year, some bastardization of both of your birthdays combined, the last four digits of your phone number, even the last four digits of your passport number, which he had absolutely no way of knowing in the first place; you still tried it and came up completely empty as you stared at the stupid numbers on that phone counting down for your chance to stoop to even lower levels than you had already stooped.

This number couldn’t have to do with you. There was no way you were meant to view the pictures in this secret photo album of his. You really should just give up. What if there wasn’t even anything inside the folder? What if this was some elaborate Kyungsoo-esque prank designed to tempt and then torment you when you couldn't crack it?

You regretted taking the stupid phone from him in the first place.

Your timer was done and you felt like a trapped animal, unable to free yourself from the snare you were caught in simply because you were unwilling to let go of the tasty treat you held on to. If only you put it down, you would be able to remove your hand from the trap and get up and just walk away.

Now you were convinced that the passcode had nothing to do with you, you still aimlessly cycled through dates you remembered. Landing somewhere around the date the European tour began last year, the first time you saw him in person, the day you were running late to the introductory meeting and he claimed you as his own personal translator, refusing to allow you to leave with any member of EXO unless it was him, that date...the day you first sat down to eat with him in Paris.

Paris was first. Paris was the start; the romantic city you both explored together before even having shared a first kiss. The date of the start of the tour did not work to unlock the folder but your heart seemed to tingle as you sat up straighter and thought to try something new. What if it wasn’t a date?

It was a long shot; 7274 using the numbers on a telephone keypad would spell out the word for Paris in Korean. Pari when romanized.

You tried it and jumped to attention when the password was correct. 7274...Paris. His secret password was Paris.

The message on the phone informed you that all hidden folders would now be unlocked and viewable and your hands were trembling as you returned to the spot you had been so disappointed to find filled with only pictures of food before.

And...oh.

Oh — Do Kyungsoo, you frustrating, beautiful, stubborn man.

The change in content was staggering. You could hardly move your hands to scroll with how they trembled and shook from what you saw in the thumbnails.

He had plenty to hide. He had more than you had in your phone. It was like a shrine.

Pictures of you; your own smiling face, your silly faces, your sleepy eyes, your pouted and puckered lips, images captured in person, images saved from your facebook, screenshots from your Instagram (which you did not even realize he followed), pictures of you alone, pictures of you with your friends, pictures of you with his dogs during your visits. Pictures you hadn’t realized he was taking, but he must have taken them because there you were, asleep on his couch with a furry black poodle curled up high around your neck and a second grey poodle curled behind your knees. It was all here. He hadn’t deleted a single thing since meeting you and he seemed to compulsively save them just as you did.

More shocking than the old pictures were the newer ones. The picture of you with a forced smile as you posed with friends a week before moving to Korea. It was here too.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who kept up to date even after the break-up. You weren’t the only one who did not understand the meaning of letting go.

Do Kyungsoo was in love with you. You knew this already, but the evidence of his feelings was so obvious — it was obscene.

If he was going to be this way; if he was going to refuse to let you go, then why had he done that? Why had he done this to the both of you if he was just going to have his stupid heart broken like this?

You had to close it down when you got to the screenshots he had saved from your chats. He had circled things you said, put in little finger drawn hearts around the words, or hand-drawn short commentary like so cute or pretty and saved them that way. Why?

Why.

Damn it.

Your heart was beating too hard. You stared ahead at the tv playing in your room, completely unaware of what kind of program might be playing. You were technically looking at it, but nothing registered.

It came back to you like a flood; the reason why you had ventured into his phone to begin with.

Why you hadn’t just gone to the messaging app to begin with instead of searching through his contacts was glaring evidence of your idiocy.

You found his name from the EXO members & staff group chat and opened the direct message chat window beside his name.

‘Your mom called.’

A minute passed before you saw the number beside the message change and you knew he’d read it.

Another minute passed before you saw the three dots appear beside his name that told you he was responding and your heart was in your throat by the time his one-word answer arrived for you.

‘Oh?’

… Really, Do Kyungsoo? It definitely had not lived up to the anticipation. You wanted to scream and flail about the familiarity of this feeling.

‘I didn’t answer but she left you a message. I did not listen to it.’

You could feel your own awkwardness as you offered up too much information when he hadn’t even asked for any of this. Yet his frustratingly short reply grated on you and you wondered how he ever got to any of his schedules on time or at all if this was how he communicated with people.

‘You didn’t answer?? :/ What am I even paying you for?’

He was joking. You were burning alive and he was playing with the flames.

You did not respond. You couldn’t open up that type of communication with him. Playing and joking with each other was definitely in the Don’t column of your Do and Don’ts of Do Kyungsoo.

Your adherence so far had been spectacularly bad; what with the sleeping with him last night and snooping through his private picture gallery that had felt like reading a diary. You didn’t need to add the fuzzy feelings that inflated your chest with warm air when he said something that made you laugh.

‘You can listen yourself. Room 228’

You’d expected him to knock on your hotel door after a few minutes of travel time. What you did not expect was an emoji response [o.O!] and literally seconds later the sound of a knock coming from somewhere else within your room; from a direction opposite of the door of your hotel room.

You’d never had reason to, or paid much attention to the inner door of your hotel suite. It was the kind of door that had double doors, with locks on both sides that you knew could be used to access an adjoining hotel room.

You stood up from your sofa and the disbelief had reached new levels because, literally, what the fuck.

‘That better not be you.’

‘!!!,’ Was all he said in response and he knocked again; three quick knocks to mirror the three exclamation points he sent you.

You unlocked the door and pulled it open slowly and Kyungsoo stood on the other side wearing his usual black on black on black with sock-covered feet and his black hair laid flat over his forehead and black round rimmed glasses on his face.

His expression was one of genuine surprise and the combination of his wide eyes and parted lips behind those glasses was almost enough to make you close the door just as soon as you had opened it up.

You pushed it a bit, in fact, and you felt the tiniest bit of resistance on the other side. He had already moved into the gap and you must be squishing him.

“Wait, why are you closing it?” He complained from the other side but there was a bit of brevity on his voice as he did it.

“I changed my mind,” you said, “you can’t come in with those glasses on.”

“Ahh...this again,” he murmured and you pulled the door open to peek around the edge.

“You’re wearing them to disarm me.” You were pouting. You were being irrational. You were very, very tired from the very long day and he was watching you with his big round eyes and with that adorable expression on his face and you would rather slam this door shut with every ounce of strength in your body than let him inside here with those glasses on his face. Were they new? God, they were nice.

“I’m wearing them to see you,” he countered and you scoffed, knowing better.

“I just want to call my mom.” His tone drifted into lower, more sincere waters. “She’s been sick lately and...and she stayed up late to call me tonight after the schedule. She’ll be worried.”

You gave up instantly; dropped your hands from the door and letting it swing open wide with a step back. You were being unfair to him and to his mom and he had done you a huge favor after all. He’d saved your ass really, the amount of work you were able to get done tonight because of his help would make tomorrow downright bearable.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just...really tired,” you were retreating back into your room, toward the sofa where you had left his phone and he followed quietly behind, reaching down for the familiar, now shared device. “I hope nothing bad happened,” you whispered as he held the phone up to his ear to listen to her message.

His face was blank as he did it and he focused ahead on the opposite wall where the clock told him it was well after one in the morning and everybody in this room probably should be asleep instead of doing whatever it was they were doing right now.

He was moving; swiping on the screen and holding the phone up to his ear and you heard the voice on the other end of the phone answer before he began speaking to his mom.

You did not want to pry. You did not think you had the right to, but he was sitting here in your hotel room talking to his mom about something that was going on with one of the dogs. You heard the word for veterinarian and a dreadful feeling was growing in your belly. Was one of the babies sick? Had the youthfully beautiful Sunny finally neglected them to the point of illness and would soon be replaced with some sweet but friendly old man who was passionate about poodles and did not use every opportunity to touch the poodle’s owner liberally and flirtatiously to a soundtrack of forced laughter as over-the-top as a faked orgasm? [You hated her laugh about as much as you hated her face.]

You had been lost in your own thoughts by the time you came-to and realized that Kyungsoo had already disconnected the call and was just watching you standing here with your arms tightly crossed over your chest and your jaw clenched down so hard it ached around your earlobes.

“You okay?” He said once your realization shifted to him and away from the darkness of your own thoughts.

Okay? You hardly knew the meaning of the word anymore.

“Are the puppies okay?”

He was looking down at his phone as if something caught his attention on it, but he glanced up once at your question.

“Yeah, they’re just getting shots tomorrow. I said that on the phone. Your Korean’s getting rusty, baby. Should we work on it?”

Baby? How dare he. He had a look on his face. There was almost a fiery glare in the depths of his eyes and it was very late. You were very tired. He was very tiring. You should not have let him in wearing those glasses.

“I was trying not to listen.”

“You can listen,” he said before holding up the phone in his hand which was open to the unlocked gallery of images which had once been so shocking to discover and already looked so damn familiar to see in his hands. “You can know it all,” he added quietly with his eyes back down on the phone again and his ears bright pink with the truth on the table for everyone to see.

“Kyungsoo,” you began. You felt worn down. He should sleep and so should you. In your respective hotel rooms of course.

“Why did you cry? What did you lose on your phone that made you cry so hard?”

You did not continue with where you were headed; to tell him it was time to sleep and so you could both rest enough for tomorrow's work. Instead, you found your words lost somewhere along the pathway to your lips.

“You can talk to me, you know. I’m still Kyungsoo. I’m still the same person.”

You bit down hard on your lip. It was a dangerous topic to approach this late at night. Especially with this person.

“Was it us? Was it our pictures that you lost? You didn’t save them anywhere at all? Was that why you cried?”

His prodding was soft and gentle, begging you to unfold and show what you hid inside of yourself. You had to look away from the softness you saw in his eyes and the urge to answer the many questions he had asked you burned in the back of your throat.

You had to speak. You needed it said like you needed oxygen.

“It’s like...like it never even happened now. At least before, I had something concrete that I could go back and see with my own two eyes. At least with that, it seemed like maybe it was real. We were really happy once.”

With each new word you spoke the room grew darker and colder and the thickness in your throat was coating your vocal cords. You spoke through it, but it was evident and obvious. You weren’t looking at him. You could not. You felt the burning return to your closed eyes and wetness built up and threatened the riverbanks and the well-being of the towns folks nearby.

And where it grew cold and where it grew dark came a warmth that encased around your bones.

You could smell him before you could feel him; strong and enveloping you entirely within his arms.

Kyungsoo had stood, closed the distance between your bodies and he was hugging you. His arms wrapped completely; his hands flat against your back did not rub in comforting circles, he was still and he was strong and he held on firmly and when you pulled much needed oxygen into your lungs you smelled the fragrance of the skin on his neck where your head had naturally tucked in. It felt like a dream.

His voice, this make-believe voice that narrated into your ear; using the voice of the man you loved.

“We can take more pictures. We can start again. Please, don't cry. We’ll make more memories together. We can do it again...right this time. I really loved you and you really loved me — that was real.”

He spoke with so much conviction, you longed to believe the fairy tales he told — all sorts of stories and your heart begged for you to believe them all. “It was real then and it will be real again. I promise you...I promise.”

Only the One you Love[M]: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

324 notes · View notes

smutty-bangtan · 6 years

Text

Subtletease (M)

Genre: Smut (with very little angst)

Word Count: 1,096

Description: Blindfolded, no touching and teasing are a perfect combo.

Warning: Amaurophilia, teasing, implied smut, daddy kink (only used once)

A/N: I’ve had this in my drafts for two years and decided to finally finish it. Requests and feedback is always welcomed.

“Why am I blindfolded?” Hoseok questioned while sitting in a black leather chair with a bandana tied around his eyes. You looked down at his body to take notice in the outfit he was wearing, a plain white t-shirt with gray loose-fitting sweatpants. Trying to mask the smile he had on his face, he continued his thoughts, “___, are you going to do some freaky shit to me?”. He gave a small chuckle while shaking his head.

There was a smile plastered on his face. He must’ve felt like he knew what was going on but oh was he wrong. It took all of your might to not slap his arm and yell at him. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in and tried to keep it together, but Hoseok spoke up and ruined it.

“Are you planning on making me sleep here tonight? Blindfolded and scared?” Hoseok joked around while you tried to stay patient.

“Hoseok! Just stop talking for about two minutes, please?” you pleaded.

“Fine. I’ll stop talking but I want to know what’s going on," he said while smiling, you could see his pearly white teeth shining.

“I want to make you feel special since you are always sweet and caring to me," you finally admitted to him.

“Oh,” he said while peeking from behind the blindfold to look you in the eyes before finishing his sentence, “Babe if I knew that’s what you wanted to happen then I wouldn’t have stalled this long.”

You nodded your head and moved the blindfold up over his eyes and simply saying, “Don’t move that blindfold and no touching me or yourself.”

He nodded his head in agreement and sat back and waited for something to happen next.

You took slow and uninterrupted steps towards the man that was sitting in front of you with a smirk plastered on his face and his cock tightly pressed against the fabric of his sweatpants. Leaning down, you placed a lenient peck behind his earlobe which made Hoseok moan unwillingly. His breathing was once slow and steady, has now quickened once he felt your hands unwaveringly slide down his chest and stopping at the elastic of his pants.

“What do you want me to do?” you spoke as a few of your fingers slipped between his warm skin and elastic band. Your fingers traversed across his subtle v-line and sparse stubble.

“Can we cut the teasing already?” Hoseok questioned as your entire hand sneaked into his boxers. Your hand wrapped around the base of his now fully erected cock. Hoseok let out a docile whimper once your hand tightened its grip which caused him to lunged forward out of surprise.

Deciding to ignore his question, you slid your hand up towards the head of his cock. You tilted your head to one side as your free hand tugged at his sweatpants to signal that you wanted them off. Before you had the chance to remove your hand perfectly, you watched as Hoseok swiftly stood up and slid his pants and boxers down to his ankles. His dick jumped with excitement but you were prolonging what he actually wanted just so you both of dote on this moment.

As you walked to the side of Hoseok, your fingernails grazed his clothed upper body. You crouched next to his bare bottom half and were met with his leaking cock. Without a single warning, you pushed your tongue out to lick a strip from the shaft to his sensitive and pounding head. You focused all your attention on the slit of his dick as your hand eagerly massaged his tensed balls.

Curse word after curse word fell from the blindfolded man’s mouth as you continuously teased him. He was losing all control since he couldn’t touch you nor himself so his hands found the nearest object, which was the footboard of the bed and he grabbed tightly as he waited for whatever was next to come.

Standing up from your previous position, you removed your panties and straddled Hoseok legs. The heavy breathing and begging filled the motionless room. There was a long pause before Hoseok spoke up again, “Please ___, I need your wet lips around my throbbing cock.” there was a pause before he whispered, yet this time he was closer to you than he was before, “I need to feel your walls grip my cock as I fiercely slide myself into you. Isn’t that what you want?”

Hearing his hoarse words against your back made you feel weak but you tried to pull through and ignore all signs that told you to cave into him. You placed your hands on the armrests as you slowly settled your wet lips against Hoseok’s fiery cock. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his dick rub against your clit and slowly make its way towards your entrance. The chance of you submitting to Hoseok and giving him what he wanted was slowly dwindling.

“I’ve obeyed your rules of no touching,” Hoseok mumbled close to your ear as his breath hit the back of your neck. “What would you do if I were to touch you here?” he smirked as he tested the water by allowing his hand to roam your thighs and stopping short from your inviting pussy.

You gulped as you watched Hoseok's hand inert and rub constant circles against your tepid skin.

“I’m supposed to be a good boy while you do things to me, right? But am I still a good boy if I break a rule and do this?” Hoseok tantalized as his right hand grabbed the base of his soaked cock and rubbed the head of his dick against your entrance.

“H-hoseok,” you tried to protest but you weren’t potent enough.

“What is it baby girl? You want to ride my hard cock and cover it in your juice?” Hoseok sneered as his hands sat on your hips waiting for you to sit all the way down.

To his surprise, you stood all the way up and turned around to give him a quick peck. Removing the blindfold from his eyes, you deeply looked him in the eyes and grinned. “Maybe next time babe. Looks like you weren’t a good boy tonight and decided to disobeyed my only rule,”

The room fell silent as you turned around and started to step away from the blindfolded man. Without a warning, you were startled by Hoseok’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Your little rule is nice and all but daddy doesn't like to be teased,”

#noonanet #artificialkpopnet #hoseok smut #hoseok fanfic #bangtan smut #bts jhope #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #jhope smut #bts hoseok #jhope fanfic

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artificialskyway-archived · 6 years

Text

five-star

request: Hyungwon rough smut pls. Theres no reason just him being horny & needy & feel like having a rough sex hehe tq!! ♥️ members: Hyungwon x reader words: 1,829

Three, four, five, six...

It’s been six blocks and your boyfriend is still dragging you along for god knows how many more blocks on this Saturday evening. The click of your heels quickly hitting the sidewalk echoes throughout the neighborhood.

You and Hyungwon had planned a dinner together; a romantic dinner for two in the five-star restaurant that’s just opened. However, it was unknowingly cut short after your boyfriend managed to follow to the bathroom and told you to come with him.

Now, it has been exactly ten minutes and he’s still pulling you alongside him down a neighborhood that may or may not seem familiar.

Your legs try to keep up with his much longer and faster limbs but the struggle to keep up continues.

“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” You ask out of frustration.

He looks back at you once, and the look in his eyes are dark, sending an all too familiar chill down your spine.

As the two of you turn another corner, you realize he has taken you through your own neighborhood. The familiar houses, trees and streets come into view through the moonlit night. Confused, you wonder why your boyfriend has decided to take you out if he was going to make you walk back home not even an hour later.

“Hyungwon,” you start, “would you kindly tell me where you’re taking me exactly? And why we rushed out of dinner so damn fast?”

Your boyfriend simply shushes you, pulling you along towards him, “Just keep up, Y/N, would you?”

Patience wearing thin, you finally stop in your tracks, tugging back your arm, causing Hyungwon to stop and turn around. Your glare says it all, so with a sigh, he closes the space between the two of you. His hand tilts your chin up while his thumb lightly rubs against your bottom lip.

“I’m taking you back to your place,” he confesses and your glare turns into a look of confusion. He pulled you out of this new restaurant that he suggested for the night just to bring you back home forty-five minutes later? Is he serious?

Hyungwon continues, “I need to rip that dress off of you right now.” His voice is deep with a hint of determination, “and let my hands touch every part of you.”

You begin to smirk at the realization that Hyungwon, your tall, extravagantly handsome boyfriend is simply feeling little hot and needy for you. And with that, your hand reaches up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him towards you so you can plant your mouth right on the sensitive spot on his neck. While you’re humming into his neck, you push your hips into his, eliciting a rough groan to escape his lips.

The vibrations of his groan tickle your lips and his hand grabs your hand that’s holding his neck so that he can remove you.

“Y/N, behave. I need to get you home, okay?” Yep, he is horny alright.

This will be fun.

You don’t even try to hide the smile on your face as you turn him around and start walking. Now it’s you who is doing the dragging, moving down a few more blocks before finally reaching your home.

Walking up to your door, you reach into your purse, scrambling to find your keys. As you desperately try to find them, Hyungwon is standing behind you, his hands wrapping around your waist pulling you into him. He’s pushing your hair to the side so his lips can finally kiss your neck.

After what feels like an eternity you’re unlocking your door and your boyfriend pushes you inside. You both start to remove your jackets and shoes, hands desperately roaming over each other’s bodies.

Both of you are already panting out of pure desperation for skin-to-skin contact. You reach for your boyfriend’s shirt but he grabs your hands and pushes you against your front door.

“Remember what I said, Y/N?” He plants his lips on yours, bruising your lips as he roughly kisses you.

His kisses are the best. Hyungwon pours out his whole heart in the way that he kisses. You can taste the love mixed with lust and it tastes so delicious.

His lips leave yours, as he moves to attack the side of your neck. You wrap a leg around him, trying to pull him closer to you as your back is still pressed against the door. “Babe, please. I need you.” You gasp out at him.

“Shh. I know you do, baby girl. I’ll give you everything I have tonight. Okay?” He assures you.

You push your back away from the door, leaning into him and he takes the opportunity to unzip your dress. As you step out of your dress, he’s running his nose down your neck, the scent of your perfume stinging his nose. It’s his absolute favorite scent. Your boyfriend traces a line above your collarbone before his lips find purchase on your shoulder.

For being in such a rush to get you home, Hyungwon was being awfully slow and sensual now. Lust driving your senses, you hastily unbuckle his belt and he shoves his pants and underwear down, you pull off your underwear as well.

Your hands reach down to grab his hardened member, stroking it a few times, earning you a couple of raspy groans from your sultry boyfriend. He loves the feeling of your cool fingers wrapped around him.

As you continue to pump his length, he rests his forehead on your head already panting from the sweet relief of your touch where he needed it most. You treat him so well and he loves it. Hyungwon pulls your leg up to his side and you respond by bringing your other leg up, wrapping both legs around him.

Hyungwon has you pushed up against your front door, his voice deep and in your ear, as he tells you to hold on tight. He slowly slides himself into you, the feeling of his hardened member sliding into your walls is exhilarating. He begins to move at a fast pace and the look on his face tells you he is in heaven. This is what he’s been waiting for.

Your boyfriend breathes into your neck, your hands wrapped tight around him as you hear his moans turn into soft euphoric whimpers. He’s pumping into you at an unbelievable pace, hitting every spot of ecstasy in you and your moans are music to his ears, encouraging him to continue.

He stills for a moment, looking in your eyes, “wrap your legs tight around me, baby.” You comply to his instruction, tightening your legs around him.

With him still inside of you, he peels you away from the door and carries you to your dining room table. He lays you down on your deep brown wood table. You hiss at the cool feeling of the table on your back. Goosebumps on your skin, your boyfriend takes in your bare body laid out for him. He smiles down at you, kissing your lips as he hums in satisfaction at your taste; his sweet appetizer.

His lips then move down to kiss your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue tend to the sensitive nub. You rake your fingers through his soft hair as your boyfriend slowly makes his way down your body, paying attention to every detail, preparing himself for his sweet meal.

The sensations of your boyfriend’s touch are overwhelmingly pleasurable.

You arch your back off the table the moment you feel Hyungwon’s tongue lick a stripe up your folds. You run your hands through your own hair trying to control your breathing as you feel his tongue lap up your juices.

His tongue works effortlessly on your core, making you feel so good. You try to stay still, but your hips move with every motion of his tongue on your lower lips. His eyes flicker up to catch a glimpse of how beautiful you look at this moment as he has you sprawled out on your own table. His tongue continues to play with your folds, switching from his nose teasing your clit to his lips sucking on the little bundle of nerves between your legs.

“Agh, you-you feel so good.” You gasp out, fluttering your eyes at the pleasure. Your chest and cheeks redden as you feel his perfect lips mend with your core. Your fingers tangle in his hair as the vibrations of his humming adds to the pleasure.

You begin to run your other hand down your body, feeling your skin under your fingers as you twitch at Hyungwon’s touch. When your hand reaches his hand that’s holding your hips down, you interlock your fingers with his.

White knuckles and soft, slow grinds on your boyfriend’s face as he devours your pleasures with his tongue. The scene is so perfect, you hope it never ends.

Soon enough, the coil in the pit of your stomach begins to tighten and your body is beginning to twitch at the pleasure.

He drove you right to the edge of your high before removing his lips from your core entirely, leaving you gasping for air at the denial of completion. You nearly scream your boyfriend’s name as he stopped just before letting you cum.

He giggles at your reaction, grabbing your legs and pulling you down the table until your hips reached his own. “Are you ready, baby?”

“God, yes. Hyungwon, please.” You pleaded.

He leans over and kisses your neck, driving your hazy mind back to the edge as he slides himself into you. His pace quickly picks up, moving smoothely to fuck you right to the edge of ecstasy.

“Y/N, you feel so good,” his voice is shaky as he continues, “I just needed to fuck you the moment I saw you in that tight dress.”

“Then fuck me, baby.” You tease him, using your legs to push him deeper into you.

He smirks at your response as he grabs one of your legs and places it on his shoulder. The new angle has his member hitting you in a new spot and it’s totally riveting. Your hands reach down to grasp the edge of the table, trying to hold yourself from sliding up.

He leans forward a few inches, stretching your leg further up as his hips buck into yours. Sweat forms on your forehead, while your moans are caught in your throat.

Your boyfriend continues to fuck you until that burning coil in your stomach returns. Now, your breathing quickens as you scream out Hyungwon’s name along with a few obscenities. He brings you to that high you’ve been waiting for, and you’re coming over his member.

Hyungwon continues to fuck you, his hips moving faster as the feeling of your walls clenching around him tightens. His merciless movements inside of you as he fucks you on your table had worn you out, but you continued to clench your walls and moved your hips as best as you could to drive your boyfriend to his own high.

“Come for me, baby. Please, please, please, I need your cum inside of me, Hyungwon,” you breathlessly tell your boyfriend. You continue to encourage him, praising him on how good he’s making you feel on your dinner table, pushing him closer. Your words helped him find his edge as his hips suddenly stilled in you, pushing himself deep into your warm core. He lets out a few deep groans of pleasure as his shaking body drops our leg from his shoulder, letting it hang off the table. Your boyfriend rests his body over yours, breathless and worn out.

You hummed to your boyfriend as you helped him catch his breath, running your fingers through his dampened hair.

“Best dinner ever, baby.” You whisper in his ear, once he’s caught his breath.

“Mmm, you’re definitely my favorite five-star restaurant, Y/N.” He jokes, winking at you.

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “You’re a goof. You couldn’t even last a whole hour at the restaurant.”

“I bet I can last a whole hour for something else.”

You look at your boyfriend, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Oh? You think you’re ready for round two, huh?” You ask teasingly. You can clearly see how tired he is and there was no way he was up for more, you thought.

He stood up, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you up from the table. Your shaky knees wobbling as you struggle to catch your balance. Maybe you’re the one who isn’t ready for round two.

“You have no idea what’s coming, babe.” Hyungwon teases, before picking you up in his arms and carrying you to your bedroom.

Chills of excitement run down your spine as you anticipate another round.

| Masterlist |

#monsta x #hyungwon #mx scenarios #kpop #hyungwon smut #hyungwon scenarios #monsta x scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fics #artificialKPOPnet #noonanet #monsta x smut

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artificialkpopnet · 6 years

Text

Welcome to artificialKPOPnet!

we would like to welcome you sweethearts to our net!

@kingjvngins @lightreadsworld @taetaetrashhh @dreamytaehyungx @yoonsavagi @tokyoblack

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#most of yall are already in our chat lol #this is a long overdue post im sorry #~R #kpop network

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girlwithlov · 5 years

Photo

Here I come kicking the door

Kill this love

#blackpink #blackpinknet #killthislove #lisa #femaleidolsedit #femaleidols #blinks #new release #blackpink comeback #jennie #jisoo #rose #artificialkpopnet #kpop #idol #mine

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soocouldbemyonlystar · 5 years

Text

Chaebols: The Arrangement Pt11

The Final Chapter

Genre: Chaebols AU/ romance/ fluff/ angst

Pairing: Kyungsoo x OC

Length:6.5k

Song recs for this chapter: Be the One by Dua Lipa and Born Again by Tiffany Young

Full playlist for Chaebols: The Arrangement

First Previous Pt11 Prequel

cover by the incredible @soobadnoonecanstopher

In Jongdae’s apartment, Jae-Eun lay in his couch. Her head rested in his lap and in silence Jongdae smoothed her hair away from her face. Tears poured quietly, leaving a damp spot in his pants. If it bothered him, he didn’t say a word. Like Jae-Eun knew Jongdae needed comforting words, he knew she didn’t. Jae-Eun needed someone to lean on but encouraging words were of no help. Silent support was all she wanted.

It had been almost two weeks since Jae-Eun had walked in on Kyungsoo and Mi-Sun in his office. Two weeks since Jae realized he didn’t want to let that woman go.

Jae didn’t know if she had been a distraction for Kyungsoo, just something to do until Mi-Sun decided she was ready to play with him again. Or he could be using her to make Mi-Sun jealous. Whatever the reason it was, he had taken Jae-Eun for a fool.

And she had fallen for it whole-heartedly. The sad eyes, pretty promises out of pretty lips, smiles and secret, stolen glances. She had fallen hard for all of it. Jae-Eun believed every word until she saw him knelt at Mi-Sun’s side just like the day they had gotten married. The progress she thought they had made over the last year was a lie. He never intended to move on. Everything she thought she knew was wrong.

The ears fell harder. It hurt, everything hurt. She thought she would eventually get past it. But right now, she needed to grieve.

But she had messed up so much worse than anyone knew. In her grief she neglected herself. Didn’t pay attention to her body. At first there was a lack of appetite, which could be contributed to her emotions. Jae had spent most of that time asleep, so it had been easy to ignore the hunger pain. Then she got sick, unable to keep anything down even when she tried. Her head began to pound uncontrollably, no position, level of darkness, lack of sound or scent would deter the pain.

Jongdae was at work, and Jae-Eun was lucky that his ex-girlfriend Soo-Young had shown up when she did. Jae-Eun had barely made it to open the door before she fainted from the pain. Soo-Young rushed her to the hospital where Dae had met them. She had been so severely dehydrated that any longer and Jae would have gone into shock.

Jae was pissed off at herself for not recognizing the symptoms.

“Eonni,” Soo-Young’s voice brought her out of the thoughts, “You should drink. The tea is still warm, and you don’t want to get sick again.”

Sniffling, Jae-Eun sat up, wiping away her tears and taking the mug of tea.

“Thank you,” she told Soo-Young before bringing the mug to her lips, letting the warm liquid flow down her throat.

The moment it hit her stomach it turned, she heaved and Jongdae produced the trash can he kept close to them. He moved strands of loose hair as she retched into the can, emptying the limited contents of her stomach.

Jae-Eun repeated the process a couple more times before the tea finally settled and she could hold it down. The taste left in her mouth made her feel nauseous, so she excused her self to the bathroom to brush her teeth and rinse. It would likely prompt even more nausea, but she had to try.

When she returned Jongdae pulled her in to his arms.

“Jae-Eun-ah he started as he rubbed circles into her back. “You should call…”

“No…” He was the last person she wanted to see right now. A few weeks ago, she had been secure in her future with or without Kyungsoo. But he had stolen an chance she had at getting past this.

“I said I needed time.”

“Yeah, but you’re sick.”

“I’m not dying, Oppa.”

She was surprised Kyungsoo had given her the space she asked for. Well… kind of anyways. He called Jongdae daily and had texted her almost as often.

Tuesday, 8:34 pm

Soo: Please talk to me…

Wednesday, 10:30 am

Soo: I put in time off for you.

Wednesday, 10:36 am

Soo: Let me explain… please.

Thursday, 5: 50 pm

Soo: Come on baby, call me.

Saturday, 3:12 pm

Soo: please

Tuesday, 6:45 am

Soo: it’s been a week

Thursday, 11:45 pm

Soo: I just want to hear your voice

Saturday, 2:00 pm

Soo: I miss you

As much as she hated it, she missed him too. She missed the days spent quiet in each other’s arms, and the nights up late talking about anything and everything. She missed his eyes peering through his glasses at her as she painted in their office. She missed watching him cook, and the way he hummed when doing menial tasks. She missed the way her hand fit into his and how his lips felt on her skin.

The tears started falling again.

Soo Young sighed, sitting next to Jae and wrapping her in a hug. Jae leaned her head on Soo-Youngs shoulder and let them flow. There was no stopping them anyway.

The building buzzer rang and Jongdae stood to check the display.

“Um, Jae, he’s here.”

Jae-Eun shook her head. She wasn’t ready.

“Sorry little brother, she doesn’t want to see you yet.”

Kyungsoo’s smooth calm voice came back over the comm.

“So help me, Hyung. I will burn this building down to get to her.

She was afraid this was going to happen. The last thing she wanted was to cause a rift between Kyungsoo and Jongdae.

He moved again to protest but Jae stopped him.

“Jongdae, it’s okay.”

He watched as she wiped her tears away and smoothed her hair back into its bun before he hit the button to let Kyungsoo up.

“Do you want us to leave?” Dae asked.

“Please don’t, I’m not ready to do this alone.”

He and Soo-Young agreed and when Kyungsoo walked in they stood like a shield between him and her.

Kyungsoo nodded to the other two but his eyes stayed on her.

“Jae,” his voice was calm but assertive, “I got you point. It’s time to come home.”

“No,” she said simply.

“What do you mean no? I’ve waited for two weeks for you to come home. What do you want me to say? I don’t love her, I love you, now get your things and let’s go.”

Jae stood a little too quickly, but she recovered before Kyungsoo could notice.

“Are you kidding me? The level of her voice was making her nauseous again,” Let’s say for a minute I believe you, and I’m not inclined to, why would I go anywhere with you after a confession like that?”

Kyungsoo sighed, “Is there any way I could confess that would make you believe me?”

She shook her head.

“Then what’s the point. You won’t talk to me or let me explain.” “What’s to explain, you had your tongue down her throat.” Jae shot back.

“I didn’t have my tongue down her throat. I was trying to push her away.”

“Didn’t look like that to me. And let’s not forget the whole ‘you don’t love me like you love her’ confession.”

“Is that all you heard?”

“What more do I need to hear.”

“A lot,” Kyungsoo spat, “There was so much more to that conversation.”

Jongdae and Soo-Young shifted uncomfortably as his voice grew louder.

“It doesn’t matter, she’s obviously thorough jealous and wants you back, so you get what you want.”

“I already told you want I wanted. Damn, Jae, can’t we talk about this at home?”

“You lost the right to choose where we have this conversation.”

“If I wanted her, why am I not with her now? Why and I here begging you to come home? Why am I sleeping in the damn penthouse instead of our home, because the thought of being there without you makes me sick.”

He moved toward her but Jongdae side stepped in Kyungsoo’s way. He gave Dae a slitted look but didn’t push further.

“I won’t fall for your pretty words again.” She mumbled.

“Pretty words? Jae, you know I’m shit at telling you how I really feel. So what? You think this was all a lie?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“If I really wanted her, what reason would I have to lie now?”

“I don’t know, you keep promising the truth, but I have yet to hear it.”

Kyungsoo ran a hand through his hair. “You want the truth? How about I didn’t want my wife to know how big an idiot I was. How about the fact that I got played, from the very damn beginning? I was stupid and naïve, and I gave her everything she wanted and didn’t ask a damn question. Or how about it’s your damn fault I got involved with her in the first place?”

“I didn’t even know you then, that doesn’t make sense.”

“But I knew you,” He didn’t hesitate, “When did your parents tell you it was me they wanted you to marry?”

She sighed, pressing her fingers in the back of her neck to relieve the ache. “I don’t remember, in college maybe. Yeah, they didn’t approve of Nate. I was told I could date if I wanted, but I would be expected to marry you once I came home.”

“Our mothers are best friends. Do you really think they only came up with this when we were in college?”

He had a point, though her mother never gave a name before university, she had always seemed to be talking about a specific person in regard to Jae-Eun marrying.

“I’ve known since I was ten. You went to a different primary school but transferred to our high school. Your bullies didn’t stop messing with you because you hung out with the upperclassmen. Mom told me about you being bullied. They quit because I cornered them and threatened to have their parents fired from my company or call in favors if they didn’t work for my dad. I knew who you were then, and I didn’t mind. I kind of like that my parents had someone picked out for me. You were pretty and likable enough from what I could tell. I would even meet Jongdae after his art class so that I could see you, but I didn’t think it was right to talk to you if you didn’t know who I was.”

“Gee thanks, Kyungsoo-yah. Nice to know our little tradition was because you wanted to see a girl.” Jongdae whined.

Jae-Eun huffed in annoyance, “What does this have to do with her?”

Kyungsoo continued, “One day in third year you didn’t show. Or any day after that. Your parents had sent you to the states, I was pissed. Here is this girl who was supposed to be mine, and I wasn’t even informed when you were sent away.”

“I don’t’ belong to you. Why should you have been told?”

“I know that now. But then I was angry. I could have gone with you so that you weren’t alone. It felt like an ambush. But I mostly blamed myself, if I had said something to you, had we become friends then, maybe you would have stayed. So Jongin and I made a promise to each other not to marry the women our parents arranged for us.” Kyungsoo explained.

Jongdae belted, “That was because of her.”

“This is ridiculous.” Jae-Eun hissed.

“That was caused by Lee Jae-Eun.” He confirmed. “My hope, when I was sent to the states, was to find a woman to bring home so that I could marry who I chose, not someone who was chosen for me. That’s when I met Mi-Sun. She was my choice, and it was the biggest mistake of my life. But I didn’t cheat Jae.”

Jae-Eun felt the tears well in her eyes.

“When we went on that first date, Mi-Sun had just told be she was pregnant. So, I had given up on everything. But you walked into that coffee shop with this confidence. You were still the same girl I liked in high school, but it was like the air around you changed. It was hard to take my eyes off you. You were professional and poised, and you had this plan to make this marriage work and for the first time in years I was actually interested in something other than Mi-sun. But I wasn’t ready to let her go. I wanted to I just wasn’t ready and I took that out on you.”

She wanted to believe him, she wanted it to be the truth. Jae just didn’t know if she could trust what he said ever again.

Her emotions mixed with hormones made her stomach churn uncontrollably. A hard sob sent it over the edge and Jae-Eun dropped to her knees, dry heaving into the can.

“Jae!” She heard his voice in the distance.

Soo-Young came to her side, holding back her hair, rubbing circles into her back.

“What’s wrong with her?” Kyungsoo demanded, “why do you keep acting like you have to protect her from me?”

“I’m not trying to, but you need to back off. She’s sick.”

“Kim Jongdae.” Jae managed a warning before her stomach finally emptied.

“I’m sorry, Jae-Eun-ah,” Dae said when she managed to stop retching. “He’s my brother, I can’t lie to him anymore.”

“You promised.” She cried.

“But I didn’t,” Soo-Young came to her feet and stood beside Jongdae. “Your wife just got out of the hospital last night. She was extremely dehydrated, and close to going into shock.”

He moved forward again, but Jae-Eun held her had up for him to stop.

“Why wasn’t I told. She’s my wife damnit.”

Jongdae placed a hand on his shoulder, “I was there as her guardian. We didn’t have to inform you and she asked me not to.”

“She has a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum.” Soo-Young explained. “It’s a very severe form of morning sickness.”

There was silence from him at first. Jae-Eun slid off her knees and rested back against the couch. She sniffled as she wiped the tears (some from crying, some from the stain of vomiting).

Kyungsoo was hidden from her sight by Dae and Soo-Young, her hand in his.

“Are you saying…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes, she’s pregnant.”

Jae heard a shuffle and a loud bang as Kyungsoo backed into the wall and slid down to the floor. Jongdae knelt at his side as Soo-Young turned back to check on Jae-Eun.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Jae-Eun, “I couldn’t let Dae do it.”

Jae-Eun nodded in understanding. Jongdae was doing much better, but who knew what could send him spiraling. She brushed more tears again. With his head between his knees, Kyungsoo’s shoulders bounced. She would have thought he was crying, but the sound he emitted was nowhere near a cry.

He was laughing.

When he raised his head, his face was contorted into a half-smile-half-sneer.

“You’re having my baby, and we can’t even be happy about it. I told you I would fuck this up. You should have run when my mom gave you the chance.”

His voice broke and the smile disappeared. Kyungsoo breathed heavily and Jae thought she saw moisture in his eyes.

With Jongdae’s help, Kyungsoo rose to his feet.

“Baby, please come home. Let me take care of you. We can work this out… please.” He begged.

“I’m not leaving you. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.” Jae assured him. “But, I’m not ready to go home with you. I still need more time.”

There was something in his face that looked like hopelessness to Jae. It almost had her changing her mind, but then she remembered just good at acting Kyungsoo really was.

He nodded his head, turning away, but he thought better of it. Shoving his hand in the pocket of his jeans, he produced a USB drive.

“The time that Mi-Sun walked in on us in my office, she didn’t know that Secretary Yoon told me she always asked if I was alone before she came in. So she would have had to know that you were in there with me. I didn’t trust her after that, so I have audio and video installed and Secretary Yoon would turn it on every time Mi-Sun showed up.”

He knelt next to her, taking her hand and slipping the drive into her palm.

“If you want to know what really happened it’s on this drive,” Kyungsoo closed her fingers around the box. Then he placed a kiss to the back of her hand, pressing it against his cheek.

Jae-Eun closed her eyes for a second and allowed herself to feel, to take in the sensation of his skin against hers.

Then he released it and stood.

“I’ll give you whatever time and space you need. You know where I’ll be and how to get a hold of me when you are ready.”

He turned to the door but Jae-Eun needed to know something before he left.

“Kyungsoo,” she called after him. “How can I ever trust you when you keep her by your side.”

“Yoo Mi-Sun no longer works for Ganghan.” He said simply. “Monday is the last day of her notice.”

“Why?”

“She tried to wreck our marriage. Let’s just say when given the option between a new position in Busan and a sexual harassment lawsuit, she chose the former.”

Jae-Eun remained silent, unsure of how to respond to that. She knew there was no guarantee she would go through with it. Jae-Eun had learned that hoping, when it came to Kyungsoo, was futile.

“I love you.” Kyungsoo’s voice was solid and confident. “I know it may not matter to you now, but you deserve to hear it. I love you more than anything.”

He turned to Jongdae, “Take care of her for me, Hyung.”

Then he walked out the door.

Jae tossed the USB on the table like it was toxic. She didn’t want to hear his confession again, or to see their passionate exchange. But more than anything she didn’t want to watch as he rushed to her side protectively.

Jae climbed to her feet slowly so she wouldn’t agitate the nausea and dizziness. With out a word to Jongdae and Soo-Young, she walked out of the room. The taste of bile lingered, so she brushed her teeth. It would be important for her to maintain this if the sickness were to be a regular occurrence. From what the doctor told her, anything could set it off and it could last anywhere from a few months to the entire pregnancy.

Pregnancy!

Jae-Eun hadn’t’ let herself believe it yet. But Kyungsoo knew, she couldn’t avoid it anymore. She couldn’t continue to wallow in self-pity any more because she was having Kyungsoo’s baby, and she was happy about it. No matter what their baby was a good thing. She could focus her time raising their child, the next heir to the Ganghan empire, and not waste her time caring about who her husband did or didn’t love.

When she came out of the bathroom, Jae-Eun had renewed strength.

Jongdae and Soo-Young sat on the couch with a laptop, the drive slotted on the right side.

“I know you don’t trust him.” Jongdae spoke over the back of the couch. “But I think he is telling the truth. You should watch the video.”

He was right, of course. Jae-Eun needed to know. Seeing the whole picture would be important if she were ever going to find a way past this.

So, the nodded and joined them on the couch. “I will watch it if you stay with me.”

Jongdae sighed, “okay, which one is it?”

“There,” she pointed, “that was the date.”

Jongdae’s fingers moved over the touchpad, selection the video and hitting play.

Kyungsoo and Jae-Eun stood together as Mi-Sun stepped into his office.

“CEO, Director Lee.” Mi-Sun bowed.

“Director Yoo.”

“Early as always, Director.” Kyungsoo’s voice was clipped.

“Yes, sir.”

Jae-Eun turned back to Kyungsoo, “I’ll see you at home.”

She placed a kiss to his cheek then whispered something that was inaudible. As she turned away Kyungsoo grabbed her hand, pressing it to his chest.

“Be safe,” he released her and Jae-Eun walked out of the office, leaving Kyungsoo and Mi-Sun alone together.

Mi-Sun stepped forward, tossing the binger on the table where Kyungsoo took his in-office meetings.

“The others are running a bit late, but they will be here soon.” She told him.

Je leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms and acknowledged her.

“You look happy.” She noted.

“I am,” he responded.

“It’s a complete one-eighty from what I saw at your wedding.”

Kyungsoo pulled his glasses off and tossed them back on his desk.

“We had a rough start. Jae-Eun and I … we figured things out. Everything is good. It’s really good.”

Mi-Sun came up next to him, “You’re in love with her?”

A smile formed on Kyungsoo’s face that was visible across the distance from the camera.

“Yeah, I’m in love with her.”

“But you don’t love her like you love me.”

Kyungsoo’s smile faded and he stepped out of Mi-Suns touch.

“You’re right. I don’t.”

Jae-Eun felt the daggers in her chest again. It was worse than the first time. Kyungsoo told Mi-Sun he was he was in love with Jae-Eun only to turn right around and contradict himself. To say it wasn’t enough.

She wanted to be done, but his voice caught her attention again.

“Loving you had be twisted and broken. I felt like I was drowning all the time. With Jae, it’s like I can breathe again. She’s my air. She doesn’t try to control me or stand on my coat tails. She stands beside me. Jae-Eun is my partner. I never loved you the way I love her.”

Mi-Sun approached him again. “How could you say that after everything we have been through. I messed up, I know I did. But I still love you and I still want to be with you.”

Kyungsoo backed away again, “Why are you telling me this now? After I said I’m in love and happy.”

Kyungsoo made quick eye contact with the camera.

“Because I’m not happy and I miss you. It kills me that I sent you into someone else’s arms.”

He huffed, “You van stop how. I don’t believe a word you say. All you know how to do is lie.”

Mi-Sun threw herself at him then, grabbing onto his lapels, pulling him down, plastering her lips to his.

Kyungsoo pushed her back, “Yoo Mi-Sun!”

But she flung her arms around his neck pulling him back down keeping him locked there.

His hands grabbed her hips and pushed against her. Then the door slammed.

Jae-Eun watched herself step out of her heels, stalk over to them and plant her fist in Mi-Suns face.

Jongdae released a loud, “ooohhh,” as M-Sun fell to the ground.

But Jae kept her eyes on Kyungsoo as she grabbed her around the waist and stopped her from attacking. His focus seemed to be more on her than the bleeding woman on the floor of his office. Then he jerked a few tissues from the box and knelt down, presenting the tissue to Mi-Sun between two fingers, turning away as soon as she took it.

Jae-Eun had been wrong. It wasn’t like their wedding day when he had run to Mi-Sun’s side worried for her wellbeing. He seemed annoyed to have had to help her. Kyungsoo was curt and called her director instead of by her name. But it could just be that he was at work and was trying to be professional given the situation.

Then he told Jae-Eun to go home.

The door slammed a second time.

Kyungsoo picked up the black binder and walked behind his desk.

Taking he seat he spoke. “You should go to the hospital and have that checked out. I’ll go over your numbers and conduct the meeting without you.”

He slid his glasses back on to look over the papers.

“Not until you call the authorities, Kyungsoo. That woman is crazy.”

“You expect me to call the police on my own wife. Are you out of your mind?”

“You saw her attack me. She’s out of control. I’m sure my nose is broken.” She pushed him as she stood up.

“And tell them what exactly? She walked in on you sexually harassing her husband. Are you planning on explaining that to the police?”

“It was just a kiss, Kyungsoo.”

“One that was unwanted and unsolicited.” He fumed, “Your nose is still bleeding, you should really focus on taking care of that.”

He skimmed through the binder, not showing her much attention. He sounded disinterested in anything Mi-Sun was saying.

“Kyungsoo…”

“I’m not calling the police on Jae-Eun. If you decide to pursue this further then I’m just going to have to file a complaint of my own.”

“Kyungsoo, if you love me you will…”

“I don’t love you,” Kyungsoo’s voice boomed across his office. “And I’m done feeling responsible for you and your son.”

Mi-Sun gawked.

“Now go get yourself checked out, send the bill to Secretary Yoon, and leave me and my wife alone.”

“Kyungsoo…” She pushed again.

He dropped the binder and picked up his phone. “Secretary Yoon, could you call a driver for Director Yoo. She needs to make a trip to the hospital. Thank you.”

He replaced the receiver and looked back at Mi-Sun.

“They are expecting you Director.” Kyungsoo spoke to Mi-Sun with the same disdain he had shown Jae-Eun when they were first together.

Mi-Sun huffed, but she turned and stomped out of his office.

Kyungsoo picked the binder back up just before the video cut off.

Jae-Eun sat in silence. Her brain didn’t seem to be working. The information didn’t want to process correctly.

Jondae spoke up, “And now I remember why we never liked her.”

Jae-Eun came to her feet. Her mind wasn’t working but her body propelled her forward.

“Where are you going?” Jongdae asked as she pulled her keys out of the dish by the door and changed from her slippers to her shoes.

“I was wrong. I have to go. I need to go home.”

She didn’t wait for a response before she was out the door and in the elevator. The ride down took centuries, time for her head to catch up with her heart.

Jae had only seen and heard what she had expected to, hot what really happened. She hadn’t noticed the blandness of his voice when he spoke to Mi-Sun, the disinterest. She didn’t notice his body language. The way his hands were pushing at her hips not pulling her to him. Hw he’d knelt just to pass along the tissue, not to make sure she was okay.

Kyungsoo had been right those months ago when he told her she had one foot out the door. Jae thought her insecurities were fading, but the moment Mi-Sun posed any kind of threat, Jae had been prepared to flee. God how could she ever make up for what she put him through for the past two weeks.

When the elevator opened, she burst through the doors taking the lobby at a jog. It was a risk with her stomach on overdrive, but she didn’t care.

Jae kept her speed outside to find her car, only she noticed the one in the building looked like Kyungsoo’s.

Jae-Eun slowed her pace as she recognized the figure in the driver seat. Hands gripping tow and ten, his forehead pressed against the steering wheel, Kyungsoo’s shoulders heaved. He hadn’t even made it out of the parking lot yet.

She laughed, tears pouring in torrents. Her idiot husband, the love of the life, was crying in his car.

She came around to his door and knocked on his window. He jumped, lifting his head, his eyes widened when he saw her.

Jae-Eun stepped back as he jumped out of the car.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong? Do you need to go back to the hospital?” he bombarded her with questions.

She laughed through a sob as he brought her hands up to wipe the tears away from Kyungsoo’s cheeks. A red spot lined his forehead from where it had rested on the steering wheel.

“Are you really going to make your pregnant wife pack her bags by herself?” She cried.

Kyungsoo stammered, “you… You’re coming home?”

She nodded her head and Kyungsoo wrapped her up in his arms.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” he inserted, “I will never do anything to make you doubt me again. I love you so much and I should have told you.”

“You were right, I was so insecure, I thought you would leave me for her, and I didn’t see what was really happening.”

Kyungsoo laughed. “You are stuck with me now. I have my wonderful wife and a baby on the way. I will never leave you. Not for anything.”

He peppered her face with kisses, and Jae-Eun giggled at the gesture.

“Can we just be happy now. Madam Do?”

Jae-Eun agreed, “at least until I have to throw up again.”

His smile faded in concern, “Is it that bad?”

Kyungsoo draped his arm around her shoulder as he turned them back to the building.

“Oh my God, it’s so bad.” She replied as they started back to the building. “So you liked me in high school.”

“I did. And I have a feeling you’re not going to let me live that down.”

“Nope, it’s forever ammo.”

It was warm, familiar, and safe when she woke, surrounded by objects and smells she was accustomed to. Kyungsoo lay, still sleeping, next to her, his face obscured in a tangle of her hair, his hand splayed out protectively over her belly.

The happy feeling lasted all of ten seconds before her stomach had her making a run for the bathroom. Jae-Eun barely made it to the toilet before emptying her stomach, then dry heaving for a solid five minutes. At some point her hair was pulled away from her face and a toasty hand rubbed comfort into her back.

When she was finally done, she crawled over, propping herself up against the wall. Kyungsoo wet down a wash cloth and handed it to her as she took the floor in front of her.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He smiled lightly at her.

Jae wiped her face and neck down.

“This is not exactly how you pictured you saying that to me.” She told him.

“How exactly did you picture it?”

“I don’t know, wrapped up in each other’s arms in bed when we first wake up in the morning. Definitely not while I’m covered in sweat, tears, and vomit on the bathroom floor.”

Kyungsoo took the cloth back patting it around her face.

“Well you are growing my baby. You look beautiful even on the floor covered in sweat, tears and vomit.”

“Now you’re just kissing my ass.” She teased.

“And I will continue to do so. At least for the next eight or so months.” He explained, helping her to her feet slowly, “Are you sure you want to go to work today. You can take a leave of absence or work from home.”

She shook her head lightly, “I want to keep things as normal as possible for as long as possible.”

Kyungsoo didn’t like it, but he agreed.

Getting breakfast to stay down was challenging. Nari hovered over her, jumping at every move. Kyungsoo wasn’t any better.

They both thought it was better to wait a while to announce the news to the company, so Kyungsoo had a member of the cleaning staff assigned solely to her office. One under instructions to keep her condition a secret.

Jae-Eun felt bad for the woman. The biggest part of the time she only dry heaved, but she had to force fluids or be at risk of dehydration again. So, the woman was kept busy.

Jae-Eun mostly stayed to her work and was able to keep control while she spoke with her staff, but half way through the day she knew it would be difficult to do this for very long.

She was scanning through the slide prints for the new ad pitch when her phone rang.

“Lee Jae-Eun.” She rattled off, her head still in the slides.

“Have you been able to keep any thing down?” Kyungsoo’s voice came across the receiver.

“Yes dear.” She teased.

"I'm going to bring lunch up down in a bit. We can eat together so I can be there if you get sick." He asked.

"Mmm" she agreed.

"I thought I should let you know, she is here today. I didn’t think she would show, but she clocked in." Kyungsoo warned her. Again, the disdain he had shown Jae-Eun when they were first married was thick in his throat as he spoke about Mi-Sun.

Jae-Eun smiled. She never though he would speak to her with such love while referring to Mi-Sun with distaste and annoyance.

"Are you okay baby?" His smooth baritone sang to her across the line.

"Absolutely," she said with the confidence of a woman who knew where her man stood. "I'm not worried. She will likely keep her head down and finish her last day. I'm looking forward to lunch. Well kind of anyways."

She wanted to have lunch with Kyungsoo, but was not looking forward to the eventual, barf session.

He showed up some time later with a bowl of broth and crackers.

" I figured we could start off simple and see what will be easier on your stomach. Also, it said if you eat smaller more frequent meals and snack, it may help control the sickness some." He explained.

"Look at you, doing your research." She doted.

"You are already going to go through so much, I want to make things as easy as possible. Secretary Yoon was able to get a hold of everyone. So we have the weekend with all the guy and the family to tell them the news.”

They had plan to tell their immediate family, only that also extended to Kyungsoo’s brothers... all eight of them.

Broth and crackers were not easy.

She had to send him back to his office. Kyungsoo had an important meeting after lunch, but he didn’t want to leave with her feeling sick.

The remainder of the day was quiet. So far, the first day back had been relatively easy. Her staff were competent enough that she didn’t have to hover or micromanage.

Everyone else had left for the day and Jae had finished editing slides, when she decided to head home. She grabbed her bag out of her desk and when she stood, a figure at the door had her jumping.

Mi-Sun stood just inside her office.

“Mrs. Yoo, it’s not polite to lurk in some one’s doorway.” Jae-Eun chastised.

She stood with her keys and pushed her chair into her desk.

“You think you won.” Mi-Sun murmured.

“Won what exactly? I’m not playing a game Mi-Sun. This is my life. I don’t have time for games.”

Mi-Sun snickered. “He may think he loves you now. But he will come back to me. He always comes back to me.”

Jae-Eun didn’t falter. She shrugged. “I don’t think so. But if he does then I hope the two of you are happy together.”

“You are a smug little bitch, turning your nose up at everyone. You don’t want to admit that you can’t control him.”

“I don’t want to control him. I like him just the way he is. If he wants to be controlled, I’m sure he’ll go find you again. And I don’t turn my nose up at anyone, I just don’t have to patience to deal with immaturity and drama. I never have and he knows it.” Jae-Eun remarked.

“He only wants you for your money.”

“No, Mi-Sun that’s you.”

The woman huffed.

Jae recognized Mi-Sun’s last-ditch effort to get between her and Kyungsoo. It wouldn’t work this time. Kyungsoo’s feelings were clear in his behavior. If he still had feelings for Mi-Sun he wouldn’t have sent her away. No, Kyungsoo was done with her. And Jae-Eun wouldn’t fall for her tricks.

“You can believe what you want, but he won’t ever forget me.”

“Probably not, and most likely not in a good light. But there is something I want to send you away with.” Jae-Eun shortened the distance between them.

Mi-Sun raised an eyebrow.

“Before you, before your lies, before he loved you, there was me. For longer than you could even imagine. He was mine first.”

Mi-Sun seethed. The look in her eyes were dangerous, but Jae-Eun wasn’t intimidated.

“What’s going on here.” Kyungsoo’s voice came from behind Mi-Sun.

“Oh, Kyungsoo, I was just apolo…” Mi-Sun started.

She trailed off as Kyungsoo passed her without a look and came to Jae-Eun’s side.

“Mi-Sun was saying her goodbyes.” Jae-Eun told him.

The woman was flustered. Especially when Kyungsoo wrapped his arm around Jae-Eun’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Are you okay.” His hand came to her belly.

“We’re okay.” Jae-Eun whispered, covering his hand with hers.

“So, your pregnant.” Mi-Sun demanded.

At this point, Jae-Eun was finished with this woman.

“That is none of your business.” She snapped. “Now get the hell out of our building. You no longer work here.”

Mi-Sun whined, “Kyungsoo.”

“You heard her.” He remarked.

Mi-Sun huffed as she turned and stomped to the elevators.

Kyungsoo and Jae-Eun watched as she disappeared.

He turned wrapping his other arm around her, his lips brushed against hers gently.

“She will be in Busan tomorrow. And completely out of our lives.”

Jae shook her head, “Not completely. She will always be a part of our story. But it’s a chapter we can close now.”

“And keep closed… forever.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Kyungsoo released her shoulders, he took her hand in his.

“I have something for you.”

He wrapped his fingers around her wedding band, pulled it from her finger and held it up.

“This is the ring I gave to a woman who was arranged to marry me.” He tossed the ring on her desk and pulled a box out of his jacket. He produced another ring from the box and held it up to her. It was a simple band just like she preferred, silver and rose gold with a row of small diamonds inlayed across the middle.

“This is the ring I had made for the woman I choose the spend the rest of my life with.” He slid the ring on. “I love you, so no more arrangement. Just be my wife.”

Jae-Eun held her hand up and studied the ring.

“I kind of miss my quiet husband who, wasn’t so sappy and emotional.”

Kyungsoo pursed his lips and narrowed her eyes. “It’s all your fault. You opened the flood gates.”

“That I did,” she smiled, “I love you too, real husband.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck taking his lips with complete abandon. He followed, even though her office door was open.

Once they were both breathless, Kyungsoo pressed his forehead against hers.

“Let’s go home.” He whispered.

“Home it is.”

authors note: It’s been a long ride with this fic. I want to thank everyone that stuck with me though the droughts and all of the love and support I received while writing it. The Arrangement may be over but the Chaebols series is not and Jae and Soo will show up again.

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chessireneko · 4 years

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/dɑːk bluː/

"Dark blue is associated with depth, expertise, and stability. It represents knowledge, power, integrity, and seriousness."

|| M A S T E R L I S T ||

#kmoodboardnet #artificialkpopnet #kloversnet #kpopwonderlandtag #kpoploversnet #teen top #changjo #changjo moodboard #blue #navy blue #aesthetic

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 5 years

Text

Only the One you Love, Part 8 ( A Kyungsoo Series)

Genre: Angst / Romance / Fluff

Characters: You X Kyungsoo

Only the One you Love[M]: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

There was a comfort in his arms. It was thick and warm and it coated your skin with sticky honey that wouldn’t have been easy to shake off even if you tried -- which you didn’t. The weariness of the day must have worked against you; you gave in to that comfort so easily and your eyes were closed as you let it have its way. You let it have you, for just a moment. Just for the amount of time it took for the tears to stop falling and for the shaking inside of your chest to quiet down.

Kyungsoo held you securely within his arms and the steady stream of hopeful promises that flowed from his lips had hushed in time for your breathing to even out. Could he feel the erratic beating of your heart through his chest wall? Did he know about the longing? It was a powerful spell that took hold of you whenever you let your guard down. Your heart coveted him and it ached on each downbeat with the denial.

With your eyes closed, you could feel the exhaustion in your bones so much more. It was magnified and you let your balance shift just a little, just enough to borrow a little bit of his substantial strength, he had so much to spare and you were so very tired tonight.

You heard him whisper your name and it pulled at your sleepy mind enough for you to hum in response.

“You should sleep,” he said and you nodded your head. You would sleep. He would leave you for his own bed and you would settle for the warmth of your hotel blankets. They paled in comparison to his arms; they were so much less than him.

Nonetheless, they covered you as they were made to do and you were pulled under the surface.

And you heard his voice. It sounded crystal clear and he was singing a sweet song. One he sang for you countless times on the phone in the middle of the night, in the middle of your nighttime when he had the sun; keeping it safe for you, he said. He had learned the English version for you. You remembered the first time he sang it for you and it was as close to a promise of forever as you were ever going to get. Hell, it even said the word forever right there in the song. The lyrics were a vow and they were yours. He was never going to let you go for the rest of your life. It had been right there the entire time and you...you hadn’t realized how significant those words were at the time as he sang them to your sleepy mind and you drifted off.

That song...that sweet and soft love song he once sang only for you was now amplified as it was fed through the enormous sound system that sent it through the ears of countless fans who sat enraptured by his beautiful voice. The volume was loud enough to vibrate against your chest and you stood just off of the stage holding your clipboard and wired up with the mic and earpiece, just off in the darkness where you could just make out the shape of his face as he held the microphone to his mouth. You were close enough though that the dark irises of his eyes made their way to brush against your own as he sang and you could feel the intent.

In this arena filled with thousands of his fans, Do Kyungsoo was singing a love song and he was looking at you as he did it. He was looking at you for too long now, you could feel the flush against your skin, on the back of your neck and over the skin of your scalp and the focus of his eyes did not shift away from your face despite the small shake of your head you gave him, urging him away from this. Quickly and before someone notices, look away, you fool.

The song was reaching a crescendo and you lifted your hands to lay over your face. It felt hot and embarrassed at this display. You hoped and you prayed that no one else noticed this. Maybe from the outside observer he merely appeared to stare off into the crowd with no destination in mind as he sang. Maybe no one else could see the steady eye contact he held and the look of pure adoration on his pretty face. It was dark over here and you held your clipboard tightly over your chest like a shield as if you could block the unwanted attention of the curious eyes that began to glance your way as one by one, curious heads turned and looked in the direction he was staring. He was singing this song to someone. They were beginning to realize this.

Why were they looking? Could they even see anything? It was so dark where you stood.

You had taken your eyes off of him up on the stage for only a moment. You had to look away, the eye contact was too burdensome, but when you looked up again, when you found his eyes again you saw more than just a stare. His hand was lifted and his finger was extended and he was pointing at you.

This was why. This was why they looked. This was the reason for all the eyes to search and all at once you felt the gaze of thousands of people land on you. It felt like being crushed by an anvil. The oxygen was sucked out of your lungs and you gasped noisily when a blinding white light hit you in the face. You felt the heat from it. A spotlight flared and illuminated you where you stood alone with your little clipboard offering absolutely no protection from the eyes and judgment of thousands. The only thing you could do was lift it up higher to hide your face when the arena cameras turned to film you.

The song was ending. It was the final line. Kyungsoo’s voice expertly caressed the last sweet words of the love song and at the end, where the lyrics should have ended he added an extra word -- no, not a word, it was your name. It was your name. He sang your name into the song and you peeked out from behind the clipboard toward the big screens behind the stage and you saw your face there. Worried and embarrassed. The hot spotlight heated you and pooled beads of sweat gathered over the surface of your goosebump-prickled skin. You saw yourself on full display; caught in the horror of this as a sinking feeling deep in your stomach pulled hard against your insides. No! This was bad. This was worse than just bad; this was dangerous.

Why would he do this? Why would he do something so public; something so reckless; something so stupid? Was it an act of desperation? His last-ditch attempt to win you back? To show you how much he loved you? Didn’t he know this was suicide?

The sinking in your stomach hit a bottom and you felt nauseated when the panic rose up fast in the back of your throat.

The arena was awash with a sound -- a collective gasp. Thousands of people shocked at once. Their dumbstruck faces all watching you, all watching him. Your co-workers, the other members, everyone with ears and eyes all peaked around corners and out from behind curtains to gawk at the truth and Kyungsoo stood on the center of that stage alone with his eyes smiling — so in love — and his song finished; his moment made public.

And then it began. The first shouted boos from the crowd started from one or two corners of the arena but they spread like wildfire through the flood of people and the noisy anger was staggering and overwhelming in an instant.

And his face, the sweet face he wore which had held such a wide and pure smile; oh, it changed. You watched his face crumble before you. From the corner of your eye, you saw a wave of anger. A group of people lunged forward and brought with them chaos and disaster. Screams and cries were muted and muffled as people, so many people surged forward toward the stage, toward where he stood elevated like a god on a pedestal. And the look in his eyes was disappointment. It was crushed hopes and then it was genuine fear.

As quickly as it appeared, you lost your spotlight. The air cooled around your skin and it was a refreshing change as your darkness enveloped you once more.

But Kyungsoo’s spotlight, it burned brighter than ever. He had two, then three, then six from all corners of the arena shining all at once and he took a step back as his hands fell to his side and the mic went clattering to the ground with a noisy boom that echoed throughout the arena.

There had been barricades. There had been shouting of security guards toward the crowd, but the thousands of angry faces overwhelmed and you watched as they mounted like ants and climbed over one another and they climbed up, up, up, their relentless hands reaching and grasping. They weren’t faces anymore. They were just madness. Nails and teeth and vicious grabs and Kyungsoo took another step back from the commotion, but from the other side of the stage, where the security guards had simply stepped aside with little to no resistance at all came another wave. It came from behind his back. He hadn’t seen them coming for him at all.

You saw arms first. So many arms, reaching up from beside the stage, powerful and strong and they reached for his body. They ripped at his clothing with tight fists. They grabbed for his hands and pulled hard and his balance was thrown before his scream was heard over the roar of the crowd and in an instant, he was gone — right before your eyes he was gone.

He was fully enveloped and consumed and the spot where he stood on the stage sat empty. A spotlight illuminated a single abandoned microphone on the floor and the trembling inside your chest made you weep and scream and cry. The sound hardly reached your own ears over the deafening cacophony.

You opened your eyes and felt the wetness coating your face and soaking your pillow below your head. Your own hands reached up into the empty space above your hotel bed and trembled as they grasped at nothing.

They had taken him.

They had hurt him.

Because he loved you.

You sat up, blinked twice and then twice more to clear the fog in your eyes and wiped at the wetness on your face with fingertips that still trembled from the dream.

It took you only a moment of heavy breathing to recognize your hotel room. You remembered checking in. You remembered the hectic work day and then the disaster with your phone and then you remembered the door — the one that linked your hotel room to Kyungsoo’s — you sat up straighter and pushed the warm covers off of your bare legs. It was colder in here than you remembered, but you had fallen asleep rather abruptly last night. You didn’t remember plugging in the loaner cell phone and setting it down on the bedside table but there it sat, fully charged and ready for tomorrow’s busy day.

Kyungsoo must have done this before returning to his own room to sleep. He would’ve brought the charging cable from his own room to charge the phone for you and you inhaled a deep breath to rid yourself of the uncomfortable feeling that came along with the realization that he must have trotted back and forth between the two rooms, busy with this little task as you slept soundly and unaware in this bed. These actions felt very intimate and that uncomfortable feeling was confusing you with how it shifted and swelled and warmed you from the inside. How could such an uncomfortable feeling be so warm? You had been used to feeling quite empty. Perhaps this feeling felt too full to be at home inside your body.

Because he loved you.

The remnants of the dream still pulled hard at your chest and you inhaled a deep breath that trembled as it inflated your lungs. Your feet were on the floor and you were pushing yourself up with a glance at the phone to check the time. It was after 4am. You’d been sleeping for a few hours at least. He would also be sound asleep by now.

As you rounded the foot of the bed you could see the wood of the door and your steps paused to see that it had been left open. Yours sat completely open and you could tell by the slight light coming from inside his room that he had also left his door open.

The floor was carpeted but you walked light and slow regardless; careful not to make a single sound as you approached the open doorway of his hotel room. You might have even been holding your breath when you placed a careful step out of your room and into his room.

There was little difference between the two rooms. The decor was an identical, although reversed, layout. Even the chilly ambient temperature was the same and you shivered quietly; remembering how he liked to sleep in a colder room than you did. He got hot at night and shed pants before sleep when the temperature wasn’t cold enough. You hadn’t minded the chill in the air when you had his body heat with you under his covers.

This must have been why your room felt cold. His thermostat was working overtime to cool both rooms.

Despite the obvious parallelisms, walking into Kyungsoo’s hotel room at 4:19am as he slept soundly on his bed with his back away from your approaching footsteps, it felt like walking into a completely different plane of existence.

You only needed to see him; to calm the storm in your soul brought on by the nightmare. You only needed to witness his safe and sleeping face with your own two eyes. You would only look.

You would only see; you would not touch. You would not kiss and you would not weep to see him safe and sound. A single look would do.

He slept in the middle of his bed, curled over to his side with a pillow wedged between his knees. He often overworked his body and his muscles would ache from the constant exertion. He slept this way when he was very tired. There was a space on the side of his bed, plenty of room for you to sit beside him as he slept and you moved in slow-motion; careful not to make the bed dip or rock as you did it. You only needed to look.

Kyungsoo slept. His black hair laid flat over his forehead with bits in the back fluffed by his pillow. His lips were parted as he breathed in and out through his mouth. His breathing was even and slow. He did not move when you sat down and you watched the steady rise and fall of his chest with an ache in your fingertips and that annoying longing deep within your chest. He slept and you craved. He breathed and you yearned.

His forearm was uncovered by the blankets. The smooth skin was taught and thin over strong muscles that sat relaxed and your fingers felt too cold and itchy all on their own. He was real. He was safe. You’d already verified this with your own eyes yet that urge for warmth and connection was as strong as any other desire you had ever felt in your life -- all of the desires you had given in to in the past, oh god, you had a bad track record by now -- you reached your hand out to him and he was warm and he was alive. The blood pumped through his veins and warmed the skin that your fingertips explored.

The contrast was shocking. Your hands were cold and you heard an inhale from him. You felt the tensing of the muscles under his skin that sat below your hand and you were so cold and you were still so tired. The nightmare had robbed you of the peaceful sleep your body needed.

With his first inhale came a sound. A soft and confused groan that made you pull your hand away. You hadn’t intended on such a disturbance. You hadn’t meant to touch him. But you had (that was your weakness winning again) and he made another sound as his hand moved; he reached. He turned over and he reached and you felt caught. Quite literally, you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and his sleepy eyelids pulled open to see you sitting on the side of his bed in the middle of the night; uninvited, unexpected, and yet unforced.

“Are you okay? What happened?” His voice was thick with sleep but he pushed through it, forcing his eyes to open as he tried his hardest to wake up. The hand that had wrapped around your wrist released you and he rubbed his own face roughly with his fingertips pressing over his sore and tired eyes. “What time is it? Do we have to go?” His sleepy mind was trying to make sense of this sudden awakening and you shook your head with a small frown of your lips.

“No, it’s not time to get up yet,” you confessed, but he was already sitting up now. He let out a low groan again, still fighting hard against the sleep.

“What happened -- come here,” he was shifting in the bed and he reached for your arm again, this time pulling and oh -- oh, he was very warm. He was all of the warmth you craved and you needed and his smell was inviting and familiar. “Come here, baby, did something happen?”

The lowness of his voice was heady. It was a salve. It would save you for sure.

It was a drug. It was a dirty habit you really should quit already, but...

He moved the blanket aside and you recognized the invitation to come into his bed. He would share his warmth. He would speak softly, only to you, with that voice and he was safe and he was real and you were---you were so cold and you were so tired.

“I had a nightmare,” you confessed into the darkness of this room. You felt the smallness of yourself. A silly girl spooked by demons in the night, you sought comfort and pacification. There was a street lamp just outside of the window on the opposite wall and it shone just enough light for you to make out the features of his face. He was beautiful. He blinked at you; sitting up on his bed and you sat up, resisting the small tug he gave your arm until you simply did not want to resist anymore.

He pulled and you sank and felt the warmth of his body encircle you entirely. You were pulled under. You never stood a chance with how empty you were feeling and how warm he was. Your chest against his chest; his body your cocoon.

“A bad dream?” Kyungsoo whispered into your ear and he rubbed hot palms over the skin of your arms and over your back. You hadn’t even realized how cold you were until he began thawing your ice. “You’re so cold,” he said as he lifted his legs and wrapped them around your bare ones.

“You were hurt, in my dream,” you said softly, but the warmth felt too good to keep your eyes open.

“I was?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed into his neck where you had tucked your chin. “You disappeared and you were hurt and I couldn’t do anything about it. I could only watch it happen.”

“It was just a bad dream. I won’t get hurt and I won’t go anywhere. Stay here and go back to sleep.” his voice was slowing down as he spoke and you recognized the comfort of the embrace that threatened to pull him under. His hands slowed their rubbing and you tried to breathe comfortably from your spot below his neck with minimal success. It was too tight here, and the air was hot.

Your sleepy mind only marginally recognized the danger of your spin. His arms loosened their hold for a moment for you to do it and you found yourself pulled tighter against his body once again, this time with your back against this chest; your ass against his groin and the lure of his hands over your breast.

You were both too sleepy for restraint or propriety. His hand opened up over your breast and you felt the nudge of his hips as he nestled himself tightly against your ass.

It only took a moment for you to fall into tricky waters. You shifted your hips just a little bit. The long sleep shirt you wore had rolled up and you had to angle yourself to pull it down. The shift of your hips made him move, quite obviously half-hard against you and you felt his hand move from cupping your breast to land securely over your hip. He pressed your hip down very firmly into the mattress and he held you there. He wanted you to stop wiggling your ass against his dick like that.

“Sorry,” you whispered and you heard a small grunt of a response from just behind your ear.

You held still. You didn’t need to test his self-control any more this evening and you were entirely too sleepy to be convinced of much otherwise. After a few moments of stillness, the storm seemed to pass and you were drifting again when you heard a slow inhale from behind you.

It came with a slow brush of his fingers along your hairline and the unmistakable softness of his lips pressed into the skin of your temple.

“Asleep?” He whispered and you opened your eyes to see the flicker of that far away street lamp from the window.

You shook your head and he inhaled another slow breath. It made his chest press up against your shoulder blades.

“What do you want me to do?”

The question felt too heavy for 4:35am the night before a scheduled workday.

You didn’t answer.

“Tell me what you want me to do. I’ve never… I realized that I never asked you what you wanted from me — throughout all of it. I was...I was upset that you didn’t share things with me, that you didn’t just tell me what you wanted but then I realized that I never asked you. Ever. I just did whatever I wanted and then wondered why you never told me anything about you.

“Remember that time I was hesitant about accepting the web-drama while doing the tour with EXO? And what you said to me — you said ‘What do you want to do, Kyungsoo. You should do what you want to do. You’ll do the work. You’ll feel it the most. If it’s what you want, then do it.’ Well, I think now it’s time for me to ask you. What do you want me to do? About us. Because it affects you too. You feel it just as much as I do. You’re going through this — so what do you want me to do?”

This definitely felt too heavy for 4:35am when the shine of the street lamp’s light was interrupted by the steady drops of rain that had begun to patter against the window pane.

“What do you want?

“Do you want me to give up?

“Do you want me to give you up and move on?

“Do you want me to forget about you?

“I can close my door at night and you can stop crying over dreams of me being hurt and we can delete the pictures for good and we won’t have each other’s secrets to keep anymore.

“Tell me what I should do, because I’m lost. I need to know what you want.”

What did you want? You wanted peace. You wanted a happy existence. You wanted him to be healthy and happy above all else and for you, you wanted…you wanted...

It was the question to end all questions. Six months ago the answer would have screamed at you. No, you didn’t want him to move on. You didn’t want him to leave your side. You wanted what he promised in the song. You wanted to be his forever and you wanted him to be yours.

But now? What did you want now?

“What do you want?” He said it again, only this time without the added speech.

What do you want? It replayed in your head. It prodded you with its pointed tines. This time it felt more direct. Now more of a general question for your hopes and desires and less about how it would affect him when you answered.

“I—don’t know what I want, Kyungsoo. I’ve just been trying to survive for a while now. A lot has changed in my life.”

“Okay, so you don’t know. That’s… that can be an answer.” You could feel his chin over your shoulder as he nodded his head and spoke. “That’s not a yes. That’s not you telling me to give you up, right? You’re not telling me to move on. To forget you, right?”

“That’s … that’s a maybe, right?”

What? If ever there was a grand leap in logic it was happening in this man’s head right now. You let out the smallest chuckle at just how big of a reach he had made with your answer. Well after 4 in the damn morning.

A maybe.

If ever a maybe was flimsy, cheap, and shaky as hell then this was that maybe.

“Ask me what I want.” His voice lifted a bit and your small sleepy chuckle returned to seep out from your lips.

When you didn’t ask right away you felt the smallest nudge as he shook his chest and rattled you just enough to feel it. You had to roll your eyes at the persistence you always knew he had inside of him.

“What do you want, Kyungsoo?” Your delivery was flat and lifeless and you were so damn sleepy as you closed your eyes at the sight of a tiny sliver of sunlight peeking up over the horizon. What in the fuck time did the sun rise in this country?

“You.”

You’d expected it. That didn’t lessen the impact any. Luckily your eyes were still closed and you didn’t have to look into his face as he said it.

“I want you to be with me. I want you to love me again — like you used to. God, I want your trust back. I want a time machine and about ten fewer beers that night. I want you. I want you to come to my house and stay there with me and I want ...just...y-you’re the only one I love. What do you want me to do? Tell me what to do.”

It was too late for this. You were too tired and so weak to him and he was so lovely when he was sleepy. He always did this — grew soft and sappy in the middle of the night and made you want to give him the whole world.

“What if I come over and never leave, Kyungsoo? That sounded a little bit like a proposal.” You heard the laughter on your voice and he was silent and motionless behind you. His silence dragged on for three seconds after your giggles ran dry and you turned your head to look to where he was lost in his own head.

“Do you want a proposal? Is that what you want me to do?”

This...oh, this made a genuine chuckle burst from your lips. He had a glint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you smile and you turned back toward the rising sun with an incredulous sigh.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you whispered.

“Don’t tell me not to be ridiculous. I can be ridiculous if I want to be ridiculous.” His whisper matched your own and he outdid yours by adding a petulant, self-righteous tone to his words.

“I’m ridiculously in love with you. Do you want to meet my parents and tell the members? Do you want a public display?”

This last question made your eyes pop open — wide and on-alert — you turned over swiftly making his head pop up from where he had nestled in behind you — breathing his air supply straight from the spaces in between the strands of your hair. Your alert made the soft smile vanish from his face.

“No! No public anything, Kyungsoo. Don’t be reckless and don’t be rash. Never public anything. Do you hear me?”

He watched your face through the outburst and after he was certain you were done talking he gave you a calm and simple head nod. There were no prying questions about your reasons. He simply agreed.

“What about the rest? We could...tell our friends and my parents and your—”

“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself for a maybe, Do Kyungsoo?” You interrupted the big plans he was making in his head with a dismissive hand wave and you rolled back over to face the window again as you tried in vain to close out the early morning sunshine. You were pretty sure you heard some birds singing some stupid song outside and the thought of wasting all that precious sleep time because of a nightmare was making you grumpy.

It wasn’t lost on you that Kyungsoo hadn’t responded to your interruption and you sighed wearily before turning to look at him once more.

He was watching you and he had a smile on his lips as he did it.

“You said maybe,” he said in wonder and it took you a solid second to replay what you had said to him. He was right. You’d said it and you’d meant it at the time. You had said it to quiet him down, sure, but you could definitely feel the sweet warmth of the flame of hope that sparked inside of your chest.

“You want to know what I want? What I really, really want, Kyungsoo?”

“I think I know where this is going,” he spoke under his breath but you ignored it.

“I would like to go to sleep. We have 3 more hours before we have to be awake and worth a damn. Please, can we just sleep?”

“I knew you were going to say sleep,” he mumbled again and before you had the chance to grumpily turn yourself away he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours and he kissed you. It was soft and it was unexpected and it was quick; before you had the chance to react or return he had popped his head back down behind your neck and he wiggled his body back and forth seeking the comfort of the embrace he held you in.

“Oh my god. I’m so tired. Ugh...Go to sleep already. You’ve kept me up all night.” He was grumbling inside your hair and you were laughing out of genuine exhausted frustration as you finally closed your eyes to the world that was just beginning to come alive outside of that window.

Inside this room, you had a warm body beside you and hopefully a few uninterrupted hours without any more bad dreams.

For the second morning in a row, you woke up in bed with Kyungsoo. Only unlike yesterday, today felt completely different.

He was still asleep and at some point, he had turned over to face the other direction. Away from the bright sunshine that came through the window, shining directly into your face. It was the reason you had woken up. You knew it must be time for you to shower and get ready for work.

You moved like a ghost. There was something just a little guilt-like bubbling inside of your stomach as you extracted yourself from the tangle of his bedsheets and carefully replaced them to cover his bare legs. Your face had a little bit of a tingle. Just a little bit of heat under the surface of your skin and it was an odd feeling, akin to waking up early and taking the last cookie from the cookie jar as everyone else in the house slept soundly.

You tiptoed, cartoon villain style (much to your own horror) through the room and you made it to the doorway and through it onto the safety of your own identical matching carpet flooring. It was, of course, completely in your head, but this carpet felt just a little bit softer and more inviting. It felt just a little less like the burning hot coals that his floor was made of.

You closed your own door once you were safely inside and you even flipped the lock over to keep up the charade that you had everything absolutely and completely under control in your life.

No big deal...just a few hours of sleep curled up in bed with your ex-boyfriend. It didn’t mean you were back together right?

Maybe.

Kyungsoo understood completely that you weren’t ready for that, right? He wouldn’t wake up alone in his bed confused and blindsided that you would leave first thing in the morning without so much as a farewell kiss. He was an adult capable of rational thought. He would assume you had to get ready for work and you knew that he also had to wake up and get ready at some point. Performers didn’t start as early as the staff did and he would report to the venue for sound check in the afternoon.

You had plenty to prepare for today’s fan-meeting, although your preparations the evening before had made a significant dent in the workload.

The stress of today, compared to yesterday already felt less. Maybe your mood was better. Maybe the work itself was easier. Perhaps it was how clear the languages sounded to your ears today and how light and swift your tongue moved inside your mouth as you translated. You felt sharp. It must be this amazing Japanese pour-over coffee you had picked up from the café on the corner. Or maybe it was the happy song the birds sang over the sound of the city as you skipped your way down the sidewalk toward the staff van waiting to take you to the venue.

The weather was perfect and a light breeze blew against your bare legs. You’d opted for a skirt today, matching it with a flattering top that hugged the right spots. It was your favorite outfit and you were absolutely certain you looked amazing in it. You’d caught your own reflection in the glass shop windows and wondered to yourself whether your hair always looked this great. You really did your makeup well too. Today was going to be amazing. Today was going to go smoothly and perfectly and you wouldn’t stumble on your words or hear any trembling in your voice over the arena loudspeakers like you did yesterday. Today was going to be perfect. You were claiming it now.

You climbed into the staff van to sit in the middle row beside the wardrobe crew, two young Korean women named Sungmi and Hyojin, who generally avoided many conversations with you outside of the occasional, yet obviously forced, pleasantries required for the job or the odd translation request.

Today, their hushed whispers quieted down the instant they saw you enter the van and you forced a bright smile on your face. Whatever that was about you would ignore it. The girls here tended to whisper to each other, especially when you entered the room, but maybe that was just how they were. You wouldn’t let it get to you because it didn’t mean anything. The stifled giggles you heard exchanged after you sat down grated against your spine but you would not let it make an impact on your day. Let them have their secrets. Lord knows you had yours. You inhaled and exhaled and forced your nerves to calm themselves. It didn’t work that well. You still felt the nagging of uncertainty.

The phone in your bag was vibrating and you pulled it out to see a new notification for a game generated through the messenger you used. A familiarity hit you and you recognized it as a word game you had played with Kyungsoo a few times. You lost every one of these games the handful of times you had played with him and you attributed it to his superior grasp of his own language. He should try playing in your language and see how well he did.

Still, you opened the game and saw that he had played the word stricken first and it sat there waiting for you to take your turn. You stared down at the letters you had available to use and shuffled them a few times to see if any words came to you. It was useless. You hated this game. You saw a possibility that you could play but the word was entirely too uncomfortable for you to place down. It was kind of a sexy word. You refused to play sexy words in this game with him.

“Sultry,” Hyojin, who sat beside you, spoke into your ear and you looked up into her face, both surprised that she was talking to you and that she was paying attention to your phone screen, “you have sultry. That’s a good word.” Her fingertip pointed to the letter’s of Kyungsoo’s word as she spoke. “You can put it there.”

“I can’t play that word,” you shook your head and looked down at your phone again. Hitting shuffle once more to find something else.

“Or...slut, you could play that word.” She giggled as soon as she said it and Sungmi covered a noisy laugh with a fake cough.

“Too bad she can’t spell Sehun with her letters, I’m sure he would love that.”

“Sungmi, you can’t use people’s names. What about gold-digger,” Hyojin said and you could feel the warmth pooling just underneath the skin of your cheeks as their words sunk in like sharp knives all over you.

It was office gossip. Just rumors. It was, of course, complete bullshit, but that didn’t make it sting any less.

You had caught hints that the nature of your relationship with Sehun had been in question after your very sudden and abrupt promotion as Exo’s exclusive translator and it didn’t take too long for the staff to find out that he had been the one to submit the request for your transfer.

You’d spent the better part of your month on the job practically killing yourself to prove your worth in this place. You’d worked yourself to near exhaustion on many occasions and even gone so far as to pull a few all-nighters when it seemed like you wouldn’t have enough time to finish something. You skipped lunches, always stayed late, and submitted assignments early and without errors. You’d performed exemplary on each and every task thrown at you and none of that mattered because, with a few choice words, a few lies, every single bit of effort you had put into this job was lost on them.

All they saw as the connection you had used to get the job. All they saw was the way he looked at you and followed you around sometimes; holding your hand or bringing you coffee whether or not you asked for it.

You stared down at your phone screen as the irritation grew inside your body and a word suddenly jumped out at you. Your fingers were moving in an instant and you dragged letters across the playing board.

“Oh, look I have a word. Slander. Do you know that word? It’s the crime of making a false statement that damages a person’s reputation. I’m sure you’ve both heard that word before.

“You can be sued for slander.” Your smile was wide and you even laughed a little bit at the hypothetical thought of witnessing such an amusing event.

The triumph in your chest was palpable. Both because of the way they both physically recoiled from you when you said the word out-loud and because it was a great word; worth three times the points that Kyungsoo’s word had been worth. If you kept this up you were going to kick his ass at this game.

“I bet Mr. Oh Sehun knows the word,” you added for the hell of it with that smile still on your face as they both turned pink and avoided your eyes. Hyojin, who had been leaning against your arm as she looked over your shoulder at your phone had actually scooted away from you and was no longer touching you at all. “He certainly has the kind of money to sue someone, or even two people, for slander...spreading false rumors...defamation of character. That kind of thing.”

“We didn’t say anything about Sehun,” Sungmi chimed in defensively from the other side of a silent Hyojin and you lifted your eyebrows with a tilt of your head.

“I didn’t say you did Sungmi. I’m just playing a word game with my boyfriend...who is not Oh Sehun, in case you were wondering.”

It felt like winning until you looked down at the notification of Kyungsoo’s next play to learn that he had played some big dumb word worth fifty points that you were pretty sure was not even a real word. It had to be a glitch. The game had accidentally allowed nonsense to be played. Was he using a dictionary? You’d both agreed never to cheat and only use words you both actually knew and there was no way that was a real word. Now he was winning and you could practically see the smug look on his face as he waited for your next pathetic attempt.

Well... he could just wait. You grumpily closed the game and locked your phone to deal with your next play at another time because the van had arrived at the venue and it was time to get to work.

Day two of the fan meeting had a different schedule of events and a different script. There were new games the members played and changes to the songs they performed. Despite all of the changes, you felt better about today. You didn’t bumble on any words and you had a moment to go through the host’s questions the evening before so that when the time came to translate the member’s answers you were ready and unswayed by the words they used.

You translated accurately and quickly and even mirrored the same intonation and inflection some of the more playful members used when speaking to the audience. You were a tool to connect them with their fans and you kept their intentions intact as you translated. Speaking exactly as they spoke and garnering a huge fan and member response with your translation delivery when you imitated Minseok’s aegyo punishment -- the forced and embarrassing childlike phrases and mannerisms that was a popular fanservice -- you translated it into Japanese for the audience and from your position on the sidelines you could see several members laughing along with the crowd.

While you recognized the humiliating nature of it, you pushed through and told yourself you weren’t actually you today. You were merely an extension of the person who was speaking on stage. You were Exo. You were Xiumin’s whiny baby voice complaining about a bad dream. You were Chen’s dramatic whining when he was ranked first by the members for pettiness. You were also Sehun’s weird chicken sounds which were weird in any language. You were forced to make the same exact animal sounds into your mic to get him to go on with the scripted activities when he actually paused for your translation and the entire arena waited for it to happen, much to Sehun’s immense amusement.

In stark contrast to yesterday’s program, you actually found yourself enjoying this so much that by the time the final curtain was pulled you were a bit sad to see it over. You took your time with it. Basking for a few more minutes in the afterglow as you watched the crowd slowly began to thin and staff members began the task of tear down and clean up and after such a large event, they would no doubt be working well into the night.

Pleasant feelings aside, your job was actually done for the day. You de-wired and made your way to the back of the stage area where you would reconvene with the shuttle that would be returning to the hotel in about an hour. You had a small waiting area to occupy with a few other staff members and you pulled out your phone to check messages and emails for any tasks that might be waiting.

Nope. Nothing that required your immediate attention. You felt good. You felt free. You longed for a long soak in your hotel bathtub and a movie in your bed.

You’d made it to the hotel. Made it as far as your room where you had slipped off your shoes and began rubbing your tired soles when your phone buzzed with a message.

It was Sehun. You groaned right out loud and swiped to open it.

There was what he claimed to be some sort of translation emergency that required you to put your damn shoes back on and head over to Junmyeon’s hotel room.

You were skeptical. You wanted to remind him that this was different than the European Tour of last year and you were no longer on call 24/7 and that if it was a real emergency he could just send you a picture of the foreign text or call you and put the person on the phone who he couldn’t understand.

But Sehun was a friend and you were soft for your friends.

Also, you were a fool.

It was not a translation emergency.

It was an after party and Junmyeon was mixing drinks using the recipe printed on the back of a mixer bottle that was written in Japanese. Some gifts from a sponsor, the alcohol itself was expensive even for their standards and there was a lot of it. Junmyeon’s hotel room was crowded with a few members and a couple managers and staff milling around doorways with drinks in their hands and a couple of members, Baekhyun and Minseok, were playing a noisy fighting game that was set up in the living area on what looked to be an older and very used gaming system plugged into the hotel tv. It was loud in there and you were still too keyed up from the busy day to fake exhaustion and decline the invite.

Besides, they seemed to be happy to see you there.

And somebody had to read the instructions on the back of the bottle for Junmyeon. You were already there. It might as well be you.

Once they got you through the door, the cheering-slash-teasing started and there was clapping, with pats on the back and side hugs all around and impressions of your chicken sounds and Japanese Aegyo attempts.

“The translations were really, really great today,” Sehun said with his eyes turned up into happy little moons, “I wish we were doing more shows in Japan.”

“Don't you just mix them together? I don't understand why you need a translator for mixing two things together.” Kyungsoo stood beside Junmyeon with two different bottles in his hands and a perplexed look on his face as he read the backs. “Look it says it right there in English. Mix with sake -- Junmyeon--” Kyungsoo pointed at the bottle with a squint in his eyes and tapped Junmyeon on the arm to get his attention. “Junmyeon, everything is in English right here, what’s wrong with you?”

“Oh...is it?” Junmyeon said without looking at Kyungsoo and there was a tense smile on his face that didn’t convince you at all that he was being given information that he didn’t already know.

“Oh, well since you’re here…” Junmyeon spoke to you now, his eyes looking up from the glass he was topping off with soda, “...might as well stay for the party.”

You now inexplicably had a drink in your hand. You could smell the whiskey coming from the glass and you grabbed the soda can from the counter to add more.

Kyungsoo was watching you and he abandoned the bottles and took a step to stand beside you at the counter. You could feel the warmth of his arm against your own.

“You look really pretty today,” he whispered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear but definitely drowned out by the noise Baekhyun was making in the living room. Minseok had lost a round and was doing shots now. Baekhyun was hooting and making all the noise in the world because of it and when Jongdae joined in the taunting, the commotion was suddenly in stereo and louder a sound than you thought possible for only two people create.

“Oh...umm…” was your only response, because there were many, many people in this place and he wasn’t one to throw out compliments, not usually. You felt caught off guard by it. It was flirtatious and it was whispered just for you. It took your ability to speak and tossed it around with the ice in your glass. You lifted the glass to rest the rim against your lip and the bubbles of your drink tickled and popped just below your nose, making it itch. All you could smell was whiskey and you made a face and pulled it away.

Kyungsoo grabbed your glass and lifted it to his own nose for inspection and winced once. Then his hand moved to hover over the sink where he tipped and poured half of the contents down the drain, topping the glass off once again with more soda.

He didn’t speak as he did this and you just watched him silently as he returned the glass to your hands with a pass of his soft fingertips over the back of your hand as you gripped it.

“Hey, uhh…” someone spoke from the other side of you and you looked up toward the sound of Sehun’s voice. He didn’t seem to notice Kyungsoo dropping his hands to his sides or the lightning speed with which he did it. His focus was on your face and he fidgeted with the water bottle in his hands; unscrewing and rescrewing the cap again and again. He cleared his throat once and you smiled reassuringly as you waited for him to speak.

“Can I talk to you?” Sehun’s face looked uncharacteristically serious, even for Sehun. Or was that a nervous look? Either way, you nodded your head and took a step away from Kyungsoo and closer to where Sehun stood with that bottle gripped tightly enough to crush the top of the plastic.

“I...uhh...I heard something from the makeup noona today. You know, Hyojin?” he whispered and stopped talking to take a deep breath of air into his lungs. “She asked me if I’ve ever played this word game app in the chat and I’d never seen it before. And then she said something else about you.”

You couldn't help your reaction as you exhaled a noisy breath and your temper flared up inside of you. Stupid office rumors again, stupid gossipy women and their bullshit. You were pretty sure you knew where this was going. She must have let the rumors reach Sehun. You were sure he had heard about how you were weaseling your way into his close circle, getting close with him so you could what? Fuck him to get to the top? You didn’t want to get to the top. You didn’t need millions of dollars of someone else’s hard earned money. You were just trying to live your own damn life and make it out with a little security of your own. Why these people couldn't just let you live your damn life, you couldn't understand.

“Yeah, about that Sehun, I’m sorry,” you inhaled to calm yourself in an attempt to control your reaction. “Uhh, because of the uhh...the transfer? You pulling strings to get me that translator position and all that, there have been a few rumors about, I guess my intentions with you? I mean they’re completely baseless, obviously, we both know that, right? I’m not trying to date you. I’m not a slut or a gold digger or whatever it is they’ve been saying about me.” You were going now. Both annoyed and embarrassed that he would have to hear these rumors with his own ears when he had been nothing but helpful to you since your arrival in Korea.

“And I’m just really sorry that you being a good friend to me has brought about these kinds of rumors. That’s not fair to you and it was never my intention in working here--”

Your apologies were interrupted when Sehun spoke over your rant. “She said you had a boyfriend.”

His words put a stop to whatever else you were saying because you honestly felt thrown. “Boyfriend? Hyojin said that?”

You tried your very best to keep your eyes on Sehun and to not let them wander over to the man standing a foot away from you reading the label on his water bottle as if it had all the secrets of the universe printed amongst the ingredients. You tried and you failed and you met Kyungsoo’s eyes for a split second before Sehun was talking again.

“Yeah, she said that you said, you were playing the game with your boyfriend.”

What? Impossible. There was no way you said that word. But you stood there trying to recall the conversation in the van. You had been mad at the time. Perhaps not quite in command of your languages like you usually were when you were calm. You felt like your whole head might be on fire. You could see Kyungsoo out of the corner of your eye lifting his water bottle to take a drink after clearing his throat quietly.

“I mean...I was playing the game with someone,�� your lips hung open and you carefully considered your next words. They bounced around your mouth, desperate to come out but you couldn't quite decide which ones to pick. “...but I don't think I said that word.”

Your eyes met Kyungsoo’s again and he was watching your face in all it’s confused and burning glory as you scrambled to explain yourself when you yourself didn’t even understand what you were trying to explain.

“I don't think I said the word boyfriend. I mean it was a … a friend, but I don’t--”

“Okay... everyone playing, grab your drinks and join us in the living room please.” Junmyeon was shouting over the sound of the party and you jumped at the chance to abandon this situation.

“Oh look, a game,” you said and you grabbed your drink and walked very quickly toward the spot where Junmyeon set up markers and sheets of paper for a game. You didn't know what it was, but it had to be better than what was happening in that kitchen.

You had been followed though. Both Sehun and Kyungsoo appeared beside you holding their stupid water bottles and Sehun had a frustrated and somewhat wounded look on to his face that you did not have time for right now. Kyungsoo on the other hand, he looked quite pleased. And because you literally could not help yourself, you looked at him, again and again, each time catching the tiny smile on his lips and even the smug lift of his eyebrows.

“Okay we need two teams,” Junmyeon was talking. “How should we make the teams?”

“How about by age?” Minseok suggested and the group shrugged and looked around at each other, ready to divide by some mysterious birth year mark when Sehun’s voice spoke up.

“Why don't we do, Single vs. Taken? If you’re in a relationship, you’re on the taken side. If you’re single then you’re over here. I think that will make pretty even groups.”

You were standing somewhere in the middle of the divide and people were moving around the room. Minseok, Baekhyun, Jongdae, Manager Kim and Manager Lee all moved to the opposite side of the room and Sehun stayed put where he was.

“Is there an it’s complicated section?” Park Chanyeol spoke from somewhere in the middle of the room and you nodded your head at his suggestion. You also wondered the same thing.

“It’s not complicated, you’re just a slut. That’s considered single. Sit down,” Sehun grabbed Chanyeol’s arm and pulled him to sit down on the sofa where he had established the Single headquarters. Jongin sat down with a pout on his lips next to Sehun and you looked back and forth between the two groups.

You had to do this quickly and you had finally made your mind up, taking a step toward the Taken group before turning back and taking two big steps toward the Single group.

“Hey, are you not listening again? Single is over there, Kyungsoo.” Minseok was pushing on Kyungsoo’s chest to get him to move from where he stood in the Taken group and he looked up to where you had made three steps toward the singles. Kyungsoo’s expression changed.

Now that you were well within their territory, it was very clear where you had been headed and Kyungsoo pulled his face into a small grimace, wrinkling his nose once in response to Minseok.

“Sorry, I was confused,” he said with a forced laugh to cover the pink you saw in his cheeks. When he lifted his hands to run through his hair and adjust the black cap he wore on his head you recognized the nervous and slightly embarrassed behavior from him. Seeing him struggling because of you was making you feel very conflicted about picking this side.

He was going to join the Taken team. He was over there already and when he saw that you chose Single, his face changed and fell and well … that guilt was building again. The same guilt you felt when you tiptoed out of his room this morning when he was still asleep. You felt like a jerk.

You sat on the sofa next to Sehun who’s expression looked much better now than it had looked before the groups were made.

Kyungsoo sat down on the floor in front of the sofa with his shoulder resting against your knee. He didn’t look at you and he didn’t speak to you when he sat down. The nape of his neck and the tips of his ears were both pink. You reached forward out of instinct; out of habit; out of love for him, and you slipped the tips of your fingers along the hem of his black shirt. You were close enough to each other that no one would be able to see the hidden movement of your hand. You saw the stiffening of his shoulders as you reached his skin and slipped your hand over the back of his exposed neck. You laid it flat over him and you lightly squeezed once for consolation. It might have even been an apology squeeze. You wished you could lean forward and whisper into his ear or kiss the side of his pretty face to get rid of that look you had seen on his face.

After a few moments, you felt the warmth of his hand reach behind your leg down on the floor and he squeezed your calf once in response. He understood you and your indecision. He would not hold your not-being-ready-yet against you in any way. That one tiny squeeze made you feel better in so many ways and you were suddenly excited for the game.

The game started. It was a drawing game with answers to draw out for your team members to guess and the penalty was alcohol. Of course, they would make this into a drinking game.

The Single team was composed of a group of people that weren’t very loud, or very good with words, with the exception of Chanyeol who was loud but little else. In short, the group was full of a bunch of dummies and frankly, you were entirely too competitive to stand by and let the Takens steamroll over the Singles like this.

Minseok and Jongdae seemed to share a brain. It was honestly disgusting and you probably hated them. At one point, Minseok drew what didn’t even look like a gun on his paper and then Minseok only had to look at Jongdae with a single eyebrow up and finger lifted for Jongdae to guess the movie Kingsmen in literally a fraction of a second and you stood with your arms flapping up by your head, making an elephant’s trunk and making yourself look like an idiot for the entire 30 seconds of your turn as you frantically circled literally the best elephant you had ever drawn in your life and none of these fools could guess the movie Dumbo.

They mostly just laughed and shouted movie titles related to flying. There was an elephant right there! It was right there! Kyungsoo said Okja and you had to actually restrain yourself...it was useful that you weren’t allowed to talk during your round because you would have screamed at him. Okja was not an elephant. Did he even pay attention to the movie? You both watched that together for Christ’s sake.

Out of frustration and trailing by a single point for several rounds now thanks to a lucky guess by Jongin that had brought the Singles up to one point behind the Takens, Kyungsoo picked a topic from the science pile for his next clue. You could already taste the shots you would be forced to swallow when you watched him pull from that pile...with this group Kyungsoo? Really?

He opened the clue to read the answer and his eyebrows rose as he looked into your face with a purposeful expression that made you sit up straight on the edge of the sofa.

When he began drawing Jongin and Sehun simultaneously shouted Volcano and Kyungsoo kept drawing. You saw him draw a small circle in the center of the volcano with a black stone mounted on the top of the circle and he turned with his eyes wide to look into your face.

“Lord of the rings!” Chanyeol shouted, forgetting that this was no longer the movie category.

“Obsidian,” you said and Kyungsoo clapped his hands and smiled widely at your guess, cheering in celebration as he came back to the group with hands up for a double high-five with you. His fingers interlocked between yours after the high five and he shook your hands into the air with the most beautiful smile on his face.

“How in the hell did you guess that?” Baekhyun complained from the other side of the room and the Takens were wincing as they swallowed down their punishments, annoyed that this round had finally tied the score up.

Your team lucked out by the next round because Baekhyun was up and pulled something that nobody in the room had even heard of. He spent his 30 seconds trying to get his teammates to guess the individual syllables and time ran out. Your team could not guess the answer either so no shots were ordered as punishment.

It was, however, your turn and with the scores tied there appeared the chance to actually win this thing. A chance that had eluded the Singles for about an hour. A finished pile would end the game and there was only one clue left in the Person Place or Thing pile. You grabbed it.

The clue you read was Fear of Heights and you were scrambling to think of the best way to draw this as your team waited and the timer was started. You had to be quick. You had to use your history with Kyungsoo to your advantage and you remembered the past with him. That time in Montserrat in the cable car suspended on a thin wire, billions of miles above the ground when you nearly peed your pants for how scared you were. The time in Paris when he lamented on being unable to ride the giant Ferris wheel because of your fear of heights.

So you looked at him with determination written all over your face and he straightened his spine and looked at you with his lips parted and his eyes wide.

You drew a mountain and Sehun, Jongin and Chanyeol all shouted things. One of them, you weren’t sure who, said Titanic. You drew an X through the mountain and then you pointed at yourself. Kyungsoo watched you and didn’t speak.

Next, you drew a thin line from the peak to the ground and a little box with windows hanging from it and you drew another X with your index finger thrust into your chest for emphasis.

You were halfway through the giant circle for the Ferris wheel when you heard Kyungsoo’s answer.

“Fear of heights,” he said and you tossed the marker down onto the tabletop in celebration and jumped up and down in happiness. He got it! He got it! You were elated and the Singles team was clapping their hands noisily as the Takens all groaned loudly and complained from the other side of the room. You heard protests and questions.

How could he have known what that was? All I saw was mountain hate, what does that even mean. No hills allowed. How the hell is that fear of heights? What was the thing coming down even?

You’d reached where Kyungsoo stood with his smile wide and bright and his arms outstretched and you rushed, you leaped and you leaned in celebration and you felt the hug of his arms around your waist as you both jumped in celebration and unrestrained laughter.

And it happened so fast.

It just...

It happened before you even realized what you had done and when you heard the cumulative gasp of so many people in the room and the pounding inside your own ears clouded your mind and made it swim in a confusion that made you pull yourself out of Kyungsoo’s arms instantly and most importantly, the gasp made you pull your lips off of his.

You had kissed him. You had been celebrating the win and you had been a little bit drunk and you leaned in when he did and it just happened so damn fast.

You’d kissed him and his eyes were huge; his lips were hanging open as he looked at you in complete shock.

You had kissed Kyungsoo on the lips … in front of everybody.

Only the One you Love[M]: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 , part 9

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artificialskyway-archived · 6 years

Text

the boy with the earring [the making of]

✿ genre: art au; artist!reader

✿ pairing: Y/N x Taehyung

✿ length: 4,782

✿ A/N: this came out longer than expected. this is written in the past, to the moments when Y/N meets Taehyung and they embark in a love affair creating the boy with the earring. the final part will be set decades later and we will see where Taehyung is after this moment.

✿ part 1: the intro , part 3 (final) [coming soon]

refresher: 34 year-old Kim Taehyung had a minor breakdown in the streets of downtown Iloni when he learned that his first and only true love had passed away. Y/N was a wealthy woman, married to Park Jimin and an incredibly talented artist. He learns that Y/N’s last wish was to have her artworks released to the public in hopes of starting a revolution. The most famous of her paintings released? the boy with the earring. [part 1]

Year: 3055 City: Iloni

Before Kim Taehyung was an employee in Iloni’s biggest banking industry, he found himself moving around from job to job. Taehyung was born into a middle-class family where both of his parents had to work separate jobs to provide for their family. Even then, that wasn’t always enough to get their family of six by every month. So, when Taehyung was old enough he tried to find little jobs that would help bring in some extra money for the family. He’s done this since he was 15 and he never complained because in his eyes he got to see different aspects of life and labor.

Something else to know about Taehyung; he always stood out. Even when he wasn’t trying to, everyone around him always seemed to notice him. His tall stature, his light chestnut brown hair, his endearing smile, and the earrings. Kim Taehyung was known for wearing silver-studded earrings; it was his trademark. With his striking features, strangers couldn’t resist but to stop and marvel at the boy with the earrings.

He looked like he belonged in a different, more perfect world with honey-glazed locks that reached the edge of his eyebrows, leading you right to his eyes with a stare that could captivate you and wrap you in a warm embrace. Taehyung worked hard for his family, but he always felt something missing from his life. He didn’t blend in with everyone around him, never understood the life around him, but he always held out a heart full of hope.

As for Y/N, she was born into an upper class family. Financial stability, secure lifestyle… the only real job of hers was to find a suitable husband to marry into when she was old enough. She was very family oriented and lived to please her family, understanding the way the social world ran. She did what was expected of her and never complained.

Family oriented Y/N was a gentle yet spunky girl, with a deep passion for art. People warned her about expressing this love and talent of hers, but that didn’t stop her from spending her days on the third floor of her family home, painting canvas after canvas.

Now, when finding a suitable husband, her parents took her likes and dislikes into consideration, with the one requirement: he must be of the same social status, having enough money to support her and the family.

So, 23 year-old Y/N was still content with this decision, she didn’t mind it. Afterall, she enjoyed her life, and her parents even ended up finding a few great gentleman, narrowing down their list to three suitors.

Kim Seokjin, the classic, elder suitor.

Jung Hoseok, the vivacious and gentle suitor.

And Park Jimin, the charmingly elegant suitor.

The choice was Y/N’s.

Soon after a few dates, Y/N made her choice and was to be married to the elegant Park Jimin.

The news broke everywhere; the wedding became highly anticipated by nearly every person in Iloni. So much so, you’d think this was a wedding for the royal family.

With the plans Y/N’s parents had in mind, it just may be a royal wedding. In any case, preparations for the wedding called for more helpful hands in her family’s mansion.

And here is where two worlds begin to collide.

Kim Taehyung’s father worked as a sous chef at one of Iloni’s top four-star restaurants. And when the head chef was recruited into Y/N’s family kitchen, Taehyung’s father was brought along as the sous chef of Y/N's kitchen.

With that, his father also brought his 24 year-old son, Taehyung, along with him to make some extra money for the family.

While his father was a chef, Taehyung became a butler-in-training at the household, shadowing the family’s head butler, Kim Namjoon.

“Okay, so your main task for now is room check.” Namjoon eyes Taehyung, leading him up the stairs and down one of the mansion’s many corridors.

“Since more of Y/N’s family members and friends will be paying visits, they’ll often stay the night, or spend long hours here. The family will also host countless cocktail parties and events here. And it is our job to make sure their living situation is comfortable and taken care of.”

Namjoon leads him up the second floor, “Just enter the bedrooms, living spaces, bathrooms, and make sure the rooms are intact, tidy, and if not then inform a maid.” Taehyung nods, the job doesn’t seem too hard, so he has some confidence in this.

Namjoon continues, “Now, eventually, you will also wait on the family members. Making sure they are aided whenever necessary. Take charge of their schedules of the day, events of the month, etcetera. Also, the good thing about working here is that this family is one of the good ones. A family you’ll soon grow to love.”

By now, Taehyung has zoned out from Namjoon’s speech, the intricate finishing of the shelves and baseboards, the extravagant decor has all taken Taehyung’s full attention and he is growing obsessed with the house’s intricate beauty. Namjoon continues to give Taehyung the run-through of the job, telling him about Y/N, her family, and the rest of the staff.

In truth, Namjoon doesn’t think Taehyung is up for the challenge, especially during such a busy time for the family. The elder had his doubts, often double checking the rooms Taehyung is in charge of and questioning the boy about every detail from his to-do list.

But Taehyung has been on the job now for about three weeks and has seemingly done well so far. He has done his best to keep a low profile, slowly and lazily checking rooms as the minutes dragged.

Amid the simple task, Taehyung found plenty of time to wonder among the hallways of the mansion, he made it an adventure, shamelessly walking into different rooms, sticking his nose where he shouldn’t but the boy was curious to see how a family of such status lives.

One evening, no different than the others, he found himself at the foot of the staircase that leads to the third floor. No one’s ever told him not to go up there, but it was obvious no one should be up there. But, bored and curious Taehyung decided to take it upon himself, chalking it up to a sense of adventure and goes up the stairs.

With every step, his heart anticipated what the third floor housed, excitement filling his bones like a little curious child.

As he reaches the top of the stairs he is welcomed into a large living area, decorated with eclectic rugs, wood-oak coffee tables and two white sofas. The walls are covered in vibrant and expensive art pieces leading the eye up to the two soft chandeliers. On the other end of the living area is a hallway, leading to a few extra rooms.

With the breath taken from him as he gazes in awe, Taehyung follows down the hallway, stopping in front of the first door, jiggling the doorknob until he realizes it’s locked. He continues further down to the end of the hallway, stopping at the second door which happens to be halfway opened already.

Taehyung’s burning curiosity gets the better of him as he pokes his head further into the room. A gasp leaves his lips as his eyes are greeted with numerous paintings, and the aroma of acrylic paints hit his nose.

He has stumbled into someone’s personal art studio, and he can’t even begin to explain the excitement boiling in his body. In awe and amazement by the many finished and unfinished paintings taking up every inch of the room, his feet walk him further into the room. The smell of oil pastels and acrylic paints surround the air around him. It’s beautiful.

He glides his slender fingers over the painting, when he nearly jumps out of his shoes at the sound of Y/N’s voice. “Don’t you know fingers on a painting is no good?”

Y/N stands at the doorway, arms folded across her chest, smirking towards the boy who found his way into her studio.

“I’m sorry, I just sort of found this place and-” Taehyung embarrassingly stumbles over his words, as he moves away from the painting, heading for the door.

“You don’t have to leave. Do you like art?” Y/N asks, still standing in the doorway, she tilts her head up to keep eye contact.

“I do.” Taehyung responds, his eyes light up and she liked that. No one has ever really understood Y/N or why she still bothers with art. Maybe he'll be different.

Y/N encourages him to keep looking around her studio, she moves inside, approaching one of her unfinished paintings. She let him snoop around silently, finding him intriguing and his person so incredibly endearing.

Taehyung comes to a large blank canvas laying on one of her tables, finding no paint or pastels on it, except for a single, silver chain-like earring. He picks it up, admiring the way the light reflects off of the simple silver. She’s watching him eye the dangling chain and the way his soft features glow under her yellowed lighting. “Why don’t you try it on?” Y/N encourages him.

He glances over to her, waiting for a second approval. She nods in his direction and watches as he puts the earring on his left ear, next to his circled stud.

She smiles, “It suits you.”

Taehyung blushes, dropping his head, eyeing the floor as if he dropped something. This is the first time he’s ever met the famous Y/N and she’s so ethereal in his eyes as she compliments him.

Y/N walks towards him, picking up the blank canvas and carries it over to one of her easels. Without saying a word, she starts sketching on the white canvas, her eyes glancing back and forth from the beginnings of her sketch to her newfound muse, the boy with the earring.

“Um, what are you doing?” Taehyung asks, immediately feeling flustered and regretting his decision to come up here.

“Shh, stay still. I haven’t had this much inspiration in almost two weeks. Don’t ruin this for me.” Y/N confesses, winking at him.

Taehyung continues to stand there, not really sure on what to do next. Does he stay there? If he leaves would that technically be disobeying orders from one of his bosses? What if Namjoon is looking for him?

Taehyung’s mind runs a mile a minute, but he decides to stay and let Y/N finish her sketch. He’s looking at her and he notices her eyes, focused yet holding such a soft gaze.

“How… Uh…” Taehyung is stumbling over his words and he’s silently beating himself up at how dumb he probably sounds. “How long have you been doing this?” He asks, motioning towards all of the paintings in the room.

She hums, suggesting she’s thinking about her answer, “Ever since I could hold a brush in my hands.”

“You’re really talented.” Taehyung continues to eye the rest of her art works. He never imagined being in one room surrounded with so much beauty. He tries to think of more things to say but no words are forming and he’s getting too nervous.

Before he knows it, she’s stepping away from the easel and looking into his eyes, “We are done for today!”

“For… today?” Taehyung asks, does she really want him coming up here again? He sure hoped so.

“Yeah! Come back tomorrow, okay? We’re only getting started.” She winks at him another time before turning around and leaving him in her studio alone.

Taehyung isn’t sure on what he just got himself into, but he leaves the room with a soft smile on his face at the thought of another moment spent with Y/N.

The next day, Taehyung meets the foot of the third floor stairs yet again. The soft smile is still present on his face, he could already smell the paints from Y/N’s studio. Once he reaches her door, he finds her fixing up her sketch, humming a melody to herself. Taehyung just might be in love, or maybe he’s just all around nuts, falling in love with a woman that is nowhere near his league.

He enters the room and Y/N expresses great pleasure in seeing him show up. She commends him on his timing, and immediately positions him the way she wants him for this painting.

She’s wasting no time and Taehyung likes the way she is taking charge, completely anxious to get started on her piece.

As Taehyung stands with his right arm resting against one of the walls, she tells him to gently rest his head on that arm.

She stands there with pursed lips, not liking the way it looks until she moves a few of his curls towards the front, opening up his hand, letting his fingers lazily stretch out.

Taehyung froze at the feeling of her cool fingers touching his and he hoped to God that she didn’t notice how tense he turned.

As Y/N dips her brush into one of the paint colors on her palette, she begins her journey. He can see how ecstatic she is. It’s as if this was the moment she’d been waiting for her whole life.

After a few silent minutes passed, she speaks up. “Y/N.”

“Huh,” Taehyung asks, completely caught off guard.

“That’s my name.” She responds without moving her eyes from the canvas.

“Oh. I- I know.”

“Well,” She breaks her focus to look at the boy, “why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Kim Taehyung,” he responds, trying not move too much, but his nerves are working at full force.

“Kim Taehyung,” she hums. Taehyung softly smiles at the way his name sounds, like a gentle melody.

“Well, Taehyung. I know standing isn’t comfortable and I’m sorry. But just bear with me, this is going to be worth it.” She tells him, focusing on the soft curls as they illuminate under the sunlight streaming in.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. I’m supposed to be on my feet anyways, it’s my job.” He laughs nervously, dropping his head to look at the floor.

She walks up to him, so close he can see every hue that reflects in the iris of her eyes. Her hands are still soft and cool as they reposition his head back up and on his arm against the wall. “Don’t move,” she whispers, fixing her silver earring as it dangles from Taehyung’s ear.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” Taehyung asks, breaking the silence, trying to focus on something other than what just happened.

“Yes. I never liked the dullness of this city, to be honest. My parents have books and magazines from years ago and you would never believe how beautiful Iloni was before everything went to shit.”

Taehyung believed it. In fact, it was the only thing he really ever believed.

She continues her thought, “I wanted to recreate Iloni, give it a rebirth. I still want to bring the city back to life.”

Taehyung returned back down to the main floor, half heartedly doing his job for the remainder of the day.

His head was in the clouds, and everyone noticed a shift in his behavior. He was lovestruck and his co-workers all believed he finally met someone in town.

As the days passed, Taehyung continued his job, moving between kitchen and rooms. Between the shifts, he went up to the third floor almost every day, spending only an hour up there while Y/N slowly fixated and perfected every detail of the painting.

The only other time he would see Y/N was at the dinner table. While the family comes together to enjoy their meal, Namjoon, Taehyung and a few maids would stand at the back wall to wait on the family. During those dinner times, the two shared many innocent glances, hidden smiles and a wink or two. A secret affair was brewing and they were sure no one suspected.

“Y/N, you spend so much time up there in your studio lately! What are you conducting up there?” Her mother asks, trying to start up some light conversation.

“A revolution.” Y/N responds with a smirk as she locks eyes with Taehyung for what seems like eternity.

He drops his head to hide his smile and the family continues on with another topic of conversation. Namjoon nudges Taehyung’s arm, until he looks back at his elder. Namjoon scolds the boy with his stare and that was enough to tell Taehyung everything he needed to know.

After the family finish up their night, Namjoon and Taehyung are in the living area, straightening out the pillows and bookshelves. The staff and family have all gone home or retired to their bedrooms for sleep, leaving the two alone in silence. Taehyung continues to absentmindedly straighten the same pillow for minutes and Namjoon rolls his eyes at the lovestruck boy.

Walking over to the boy, Namjoon takes the pillow from Taehyung’s hands, straightening it and placing it back onto the sofa.

“Taehyungie,” Namjoon starts, not looking at the boy, simply continuing his job. But the tone in his voice was obvious enough for Taehyung to know what was coming next, “you know what you are doing could get your family in trouble. Not just you.” Namjoon confesses to the boy.

“Hyung, I’m not going to get anyone in trouble. It’s nothing.” Taehyung moves to the shelves, knowing that he’s going to hear what Namjoon has to say, regardless.

Namjoon sighs, walking over to the boy. He knows the boy is too deep in love to hear what he has to say. He then reaches into his vest pocket and hands Taehyung his paycheck. Namjoon holds his grip on the white envelope, finally looking at the boy, “when love is at the forefront, there is no such thing as ‘nothing.’”

The boy nods, placing his paycheck in his back pocket. He understands what type of grave he is digging himself into, but he’s certain that this is where he wants to be. The two men get ready to head home, but Taehyung’s mind is whirling with so many thoughts, and he wants to tell his elder what he’s feeling but the words aren’t forming.

“Namjoon,” the boy calls out as his elder was heading out the door. The look on the boy’s face tells Namjoon everything.

Taehyung’s in love with Y/N, if he could he would run away with her, start a new life with her. He will make sure she is taken care of. And Namjoon can see every detail of the future Taehyung has built with Y/N in the boy’s eyes and he can see the realization as Taehyung already knows it can never happen.

The elder sighs, trying to find the right words, he doesn’t want to hurt him, but he believes the boy needs a reality check. Namjoon sees that the boy is in all too familiar territory. He’s been there himself, with someone in the same family. And so, Namjoon simply doesn’t want the boy to end up in Namjoon’s shoes.

“They are upper class, Kim Taehyung. And we are the workers. With love that is forbidden comes inevitable pain. You got that?”

Taehyung knew Namjoon was right, he didn’t have to be so harsh and straightforward about it, though. It only made Taehyung feel worse, rolling his eyes at Namjoon like a child does when their father lectures them.

Little did Taehyung know, Y/N felt the same way about him. She filled a few of her notebooks with sketches of Taehyung, her smile appearing whenever she focused on his eyes in every sketch. He was beautiful and he made her feel like she wasn’t alone, like she was seen and understood. Will Jimin make her feel that way? She knew he was a sweet man, caring for her more than a regular man of his status would, and for that she was grateful.

But still, Y/N looked forward to that one hour every day.

With each passing day, and hour spent the emotions between the two continued to grow, becoming harder to overcome and hide. Taehyung became braver, moving in closer every day when he greeted her. She would reposition him even when he hadn’t moved just to feel his skin under her touch. She wondered if he could read her mind and if he could, would he just kiss her already?

As he watches her, he decides to ask her a question he’s wondered for a while.

“Why do you agree to marry for your parents, Y/N?”

“Why do you agree to work these jobs with your father, Taehyung?” She responds without skipping a heartbeat. The boy says nothing, letting her speak up first. “We all make choices, Kim Taehyung. Either for ourselves or for someone else.”

“Are you happy?” He asks, genuinely concerned.

“I’m happy because my family is happy.” Her honesty hits a chord in Taehyung because he understands exactly what she means.

Before he left that day, Taehyung boldly decided he was going to kiss her.

He had thought about it the entire time with her, until finally. He closed the space between them, grabbing her hand to intertwine her fingers with his and he lowers his lips to place a soft kiss on hers. She kisses him back in relief, the warmth of his lips on hers is what she longed for. He kissed her with such fervor, making sure the moment would last.

He finally breaks the kiss. Both of them are completely breathless and dizzy, this was euphoria. Her lips on his was the feeling he’ll remember until the end of time.

The next day he shyly walked into her studio, they exchange sweet small talk and soft giggles with each other. Moments like this continued on for the rest of their moments together. Every time he came up, they’d often share a passionate kiss while also talking together, sharing their deepest and lamest thoughts with each other. They had built a bond together, as they fell further in love and somewhere in the back of their minds, they knew that bond could only ever exist inside Y/N’s studio.

Every session would end happily, except for one moment when Taehyung decided to be as honest as he could. He wanted to try and tell her what he thought, no matter the outcome he needed her to know this wasn’t a fling for him.

After he kissed her goodbye, he whispers the words on her lips, “run with me.”

“No.” He pulls away to look at her.

“Y/N! You feel what I feel, we are meant for each other, run with me!” His voice is more urgent, he didn’t mean it to be, but his emotions are taking over.

“You can leave now.” She responds, cleaning up her paints and paintbrushes.

She hated how mean she sounded, but any other way and she would crumble at his feet, breaking her family’s heart in the process. She loved him and wanted to be with him, but Y/N also knew her duty to her family.

On the fourth week, he snuck his way up to her studio, where she was waiting for him. He walks over to where her stool where she sat. He’s towering over her, placing his fingers are on Y/N’s chin, slowly moving her face up towards him. He’s smiling widely as his lips kiss her forehead, “Hi, Y/N,” he whispers into her skin.

She smiles, greeting him back while also slapping his hand away from the covered canvas.

“Ow,” he exclaims, “Don’t I have the right to see this painting since I am the focal point here?” He asks, kissing her forehead one last time before moving to his position.

“Sorry! That’s not how this works, Kim Taehyung.” She waits for him to get in his stance, “Besides, I think today is the day! It’s almost complete!”

Y/N’s smile could make the sun look like a miniscule star in Taehyung’s eyes. He found her completely ethereal and this moment was bittersweet. What did it mean after she’s finished? Will this be the end? The wedding is around the corner, afterall. And Taehyung’s heart grew sadder with every god forsaken harsh thought that crossed his mind.

“Done!” Y/N exclaims, throwing her brush down and stepping away to gain a better look.

“Finally! Now, can I see it?” She stops him just before he gets to step behind the canvas.

“Not yet,” she tells him, her gaze gliding down from his eyes to his chest. Her fingers fiddle with the buttons of his white shirt.

Y/N bites down on her lower lip as she moves to unbutton the first two buttons of Taehyung’s shirt, placing her lips against the skin of his chest. He looks down at her, inhaling sharply at the sweet sensation. His mind tells him to take in every moment and remember the feeling. He knows what is going to happen and what this ultimately means.

His hands glide up Y/N’s sides, stopping at her waist, pulling her into his body. Y/N continues to unbutton the rest of his shirt, placing small kisses on every inch of his skin. She swiftly slides his shirt off his shoulders and their hands begin to move hastily.

Taehyung kisses her cheek before picking her up and letting her wrap her legs around his waist. They continue to kiss each other with so much passion. Their kisses are breathy and messy but they devoured their love with each touch.

He guides her to the floor of her studio, unclothing themselves. Taehyung kisses her stomach, her breasts, he wants to leave his mark on her body. Instead, he leaves kisses over her body, hoping to burn her skin with his memory so she’ll never forget him.

Their bodies entangle with love and passion, with soft gasps and quiet moans filling the room. He intertwined his fingers with hers as he becomes one inside of her, resting his forehead on hers. Y/N’s breath begins to match the swift moves of Taehyung’s hips into her. She imprints her touch on him, running her hands over his body and through his hair, raking her nails into his back with every hit of euphoria that Taehyung gives Y/N.

When the high is complete, Y/N and Taehyung lie there on her studio floor, stilling their breathing, figuring out how to approach the inevitable conversation.

“I won’t ask you to runaway with me, Y/N.”

She looks at him, while his eyes continue to stare up at the ceiling. He proceeds, “I want you to run with me, but that is out of my own selfish desire. I know how much your family means to you. You sacrifice so much for them, no one would sacrifice so much for someone they don’t love.”

“I do love them. My whole life I’ve wanted nothing but to make them happy,” Y/N confesses. She loves them, but she also loves Taehyung. But she’s making her choice, not for herself but for someone else and Taehyung understands.

“My father and I are leaving tomorrow after the wedding. We have another job waiting for us. I don’t think we’ll see each other again after this, Y/N.” He turns to lay on his side, propping his head up with his hand, placing his other hand on her cheek. “Don’t forget about me, okay?”

After they’ve dressed themselves, she gets up to move the painting towards the wall, placing the cover over the canvas.

“Ah, hold on… why can’t I see it, Y/N? Do you know how hard it was to stand for you all these weeks?” He groans into her neck as he wraps his arms around her from behind.

“Are you saying you regret this?” She teased him, pushing her body back into his and his grip tightens.

He turns Y/N around, picks up her hand and places a kiss on her fingers, “I’d do this all over again for you, my love.”

She walks over to her table, grabbing a single yellow flower from her vase and her earring that she let Taehyung model for her.

When she returns in front of Taehyung, she places the yellow flower in his shirt pocket and opens his hand to place her earring in his hand, “Y/N,” he breathes.

She shushes him quietly, kissing his cheek then making a slow and gentle line of kisses from one side of his face to the other. “I love you, Kim Taehyung. I could never forget you.”

Y/N heads for the door, she opens it and before leaving she turns towards Taehyung, “You’re going to start a revolution.” She winks back at him and disappears into the corridor.

Taehyung stands in the middle of her studio, breathing in the memory one final time before closing the door behind him.

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