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candythemew · 4 years

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UrSan Headcanons!🌊

The UrMaid of Thra...

It’s probably no surprise that UrSan The Swimmer is my favorite Dark Crystak character considering how much I draw her, but I feel like many of you would like to hear my headcanons for this beautiful lass!

UrSan is a Nomadic UrRu. Constantly swimming through the various waterways and seas of Thra. Like Urgoh and UrVa, she seeks out her own path. Prefering not to stay in place for too long. Like her counterpart, she yearns to have her own independence and sense of purpose.

UrSan is Loving and kind, but not Naïve. She knows life can be cruel, but she tries to keep her spirits up. She shows compassion to others, because she knows firsthand how hard it can be when you feel isolated, alone, or nobody cares. She had been scared half to death once when someone very close to her nearly perished due to their grief.

UrSan’s voyages across the rivers, seas, swamps, and lakes of Thra have inspired many folktales and legends among the Gelfling. The Majority of them coming from the Drenchen and the Sifa. These tales can arrange from terrifying bog monsters with bright glowing eyes... Made up entirely of tangling limbs, reeds, and mud. Shambling about to take away any naughty children who may have wandered too deep into the swamps, To beautiful women who lure young Gelfing into the dark depths, or even pure-hearted sea spirits that will lead you back to shore with their songs when you’re lost at sea…

UrSan’s singing sounds like that of a whale or siren. Many Sifan folktales have their roots in hearing this elusive tune underneath their ships. Echoing beneath them with a resonating lullaby that can be heard for miles.

Ursan wears little to no clothing as to prevent drag in the water as she swims. Her long hair serves to cover up most of her body whenever she leaves the water. (Which isn’t often.) But if she must be out of the water for an extended period of time; she has a lightweight dress she wears. She’ll usually keep these dresses in hollow tree trunks along the banks of rivers where she’s known to stop and rest. She finds clothes kinda itchy and weird.

Due to all of her underwater travel, UrSan occasionally gets things stuck in her hair. Mostly Seaweed, but sometimes small animals, or sometimes even Gelfling can get trapped in her deep indigo locks! Although for that to happen is extremely rare and scary! She often lets plants that get tangled within her mane stay. Using them as a form of decoration. ((And sometimes a food source.)) Although most of the time, this is actually due to her forgetting to remove the flora in the first place! When dry, UrSan’s hair is wavy. She also has little tufts of hair that stick out of place.

UrSan Swims by using her powerful tail to propel her forward in the water. keeping her arms and legs pressed against her body. She’ll use her arms to cling onto rocks in particularly strong currents, or to assist in turning another direction.

UrSan has hidden grottoes and hideaways she stays in if she needs to rest or recover from an injury she may have gotten from her travels. Most often when noticing that her counterpart got into a particularly nasty fight. She calls these places “Sanctuaries”. These areas are scattered across the world of Thra, and are very hard to come by if you aren’t The Swimmer. UrSan knows these places by heart, and a few of them are connected by underwater tunnels. Any adventurer to stumble upon one of these sanctuaries is a lucky one indeed! As these places are full of necessities for survival, as well as rare and exotic items The Swimmer finds on her travels. She keeps these behind as mementos of previous journeys. If you’re particularly lucky, you may even stumble upon her during a period of rest. A sight very few ever see, but will always remember. As well as Sanctuaries, She also has a network of underground channels she’ll use for fast travel. Although these are more risky due to the darkness, sharp rocks, and strong currents. Here are some visuals of what I have in mind for these Sanctuaries:

(Below) An underground channel located in the claw mountains.

UrSan makes a pilgrimage back to The Valley of the Mystics once every few Trine.

On this voyage back home, she’ll bring back various things from her travels to give to her fellow UrRu. It’s not about the quantity, but the quality. Since she can’t carry too much while swimming miles upon miles back home; she’ll put a lot of thought into it. These items will often have a special meaning on how she feels about a certain individual. As well as a use. Many of these objects are not accessible in The Valley making them a heartfelt gift indeed. She keeps them in a small bag made out of fishing nets, or tied up in her hair.

She’ll stay in the valley for about a week or two before leaving. During this time, She’ll catch up with her brothers. Helping out, speaking of her travels and answering numerous questions. She will also allow her hair to be brushed, dried and braided. Decorating it with seashells that she will leave behind in The Valley from her numerous pilgrimages. As well as wearing clothing. Elaborate ones at that. (Or at least for a Mystic...) Her Robes are made from Sifan silk she found in a shipwreck that she gifted to UrUtt the Weaver, who in return created this masterful work of art. ((Clothing HC Based off of this description of her outfit!))

The two are good friends. Even though UrUtt is put off by her decision to remain nude outside of the Valley. UrSan however, is blissfully unaware of how others could find her choices inappropriate. Being completely innocent about this aspect of life.

Speaking of Relationships, Two of her closest friends are UrTih the Alchemist and UrZah the Ritual Guardian. UrTih the Alchemist is very close to UrSan. With the two of them interacting like a Big Sister and Little Brother of sorts, despite them being the same age. UrSan will spend a good part of her time back home experimenting and helping The Alchemist out with all sorts of things! Be it finding the materials he may need for potions, or asking him thousands of questions on whatever he may be working on! She also helps The Alchemist get out of his shell, as he sometimes feels anxious to speak or share his ideas with his fellow UrRu. UrTih is fond of UrSan as well. And is one of the first people to greet her upon her return. He enjoys the stories and excitement she brings to the monotony of Valley life. Even if she can get to be a too much at times. UrSan gets very excited whenever she’s around UrTih. He always has something new to say, and she admires his Creativity. She brings out a brave side of him, and he offers her kinship and a feeling of family. All and all their bond is inseparable! I heard that with the collaboration with another UrRu, UrTih is crafting a strange vessel known as a “Canoe”... UrZah the Ritual Guardian is one of UrSan’s oldest, and closest friends. Their relationship started when his facial disfigurement caused him to spiral into a depressive state where all he would do was pray, do his rituals, and go to sleep. He wouldn’t eat and barely ever drank. As he felt unworthy of it. Like he was being punished by the gods for his transgressions. He was guilty of so much; breathing and speaking hurt so bad... It had to be a punishment. Especially considering the wicked acts of his “Other Half”. UrZah was just as responsible of those atrocities as he. They are two sides of the same coin. This period happened during a time frame where UrSan’s travels were very brief. Still being titled “The Swimmer” however she was not nearly as nomadic as she is today. Only really acting as a scout as she swam around the streams in the wilderness they had camped for the night. As they were still looking for their own home. She would make sure check up on everyone at night as she held her vigil. One particularly cold night, She heard UrZah’s harsh wheezing in the distance. It sounded much more labored... So she followed the noise and saw him collapsed on the ground surrounded by various types of sands, prayer objects, and half finished symbols. Twisting about in mesmerizing patterns all across the ground. Mortified, she immediately rushed for help. A few nights later the golden haired mystic awoke to see The Swimmer, UrIm the Healer, and UrSu the Master all watching over him. She had learned that she had saved his life; but he didn’t know why or how. He was scolded harshly by the three, but UrSan stayed with him for the night as she was worried for him. She would spend the next couple unum trying to lift his spirits, giving him little reasons to go on, and making sure he was eating and drinking at least something small everyday. It took a long, long time but he got better due to her and his fellow Mystics. And for that he’s eternally grateful. When he asks her about what happened the night she found him, she only stares off into the distance. Silent. Not saying a word. But perhaps... that’s for the best. As the trine passed the two grew closer despite their long distance apart due to UrSan’s travels. Becoming better friends despite their vastly different personalities and opposing worldviews. UrSan believing in being independent and doing all that they could to make up for their past transgressions, while UrZah believes the opposite. Following the Master’s orders of staying hidden, remaining vigilant, and being patient. Praying for safety until the next great conjunction. They work together like Caramel and Sour Apples! Better with each other than without. UrZah is a stable mystic who can help keep UrSan grounded in reality. Reminding her that there is a way to things. And UrSan is someone who can help him get out of his overly strict attitude and lift him out of his all or nothing mentality. The weight of the world is not on his shoulders. And She’ll always make sure to remind him of that. Other Wandering Mystics: She has many experiences of running into UrVa the Archer, UrMa the Peacemaker, and in her younger days; UrGoh the Wanderer.

When finding one of her Dear, Fellow Travelers. She will often speak to them. Asking where they might be headed and what their plans are. Sometimes they’ll even camp together. Telling each other of their travels. Each Interaction is different depending on who she meets, but meeting another vagabond is always a fun surprise! UrMa the Peacemaker is by far the most social. As he travels the lands looking for peaceful solutions to conflicts. When the two meet they’ll be sure to play around a bit before catching up. This usually entails UrMa racing her on the riverbank as she swims by the water’s edge. Or UrSan slowly emerging out of the water creeping from behind to startle the big strong UrRu! They’ll definitely set camp together and talk until dawn. Most stories shared between the two are those of unique individuals they met. The Peacemaker telling UrSan of some of the most foolish reasons conflicts had arisen and the weirdest ways those problems were solved! In the morning UrMa will usually invite her to follow him wherever he may be headed next and as long there’s a river alongside him to follow his path, The Swimmer will accept! UrVa the Archer is someone UrSan also likes to catch up with when she can. She’ll find him most often drinking from a stream or resting in one of her secret sanctuaries. Their talks usually consist of philosophy with a bit of witty remarks and jokes sprinkled in-between. The two will also practice their physical abilities by sparring. As they are the two most active and strong UrRu. When they camp together they’ll catch fish to make into kebabs. (UrSan is extremely fond of this part) UrVa will wait patiently as he stays still and catches them with his hands in the shallows. Using his strong reflexes and knowledge of the Mystic’s rarely used martial arts. UrSan however will chase the fish around the open water like a dolphin until she catches up to one and grabs it either in her mouth or powerful arms. Sometimes quickly jumping out of the water as she chases them! Each take only what they need for the night and make sure not to waste a single bit of what was given. All life is a gift from Thra. And as they are not of Thra, they can’t take recklessly. The two will cook together, and speak of their journeys and various tales they had heard or have made up themselves. The two will sleep at their camp together, and then part ways in the morning. Wishing the best for each other on their travels. UrGoh the Wanderer is a name UrSan hasen’t heard of in hundreds of trine. She hasn’t seen him since she was young. Telling her of a vision he was given to embrace unity with their counterparts. As well as the others shunning him from the Valley due to him trying to convince the rest. But sadly, they were all too stubborn. UrSan didn’t know what to make of this. It was a very complex and ambitious task to set fourth to acomplish. She did not follow him. But she gave him a spiral shell as a memento to be safe and to keep going forward. There wasn’t much she could do, because to be honest... She was scared. There are some nights where she wonders if she should have done more, should she embrace her own half as well? And how is The Wanderer nowadays? Safe she hopes. These thoughts sometimes keep her up at night.

Scars: [MAJOR SPOILER WARNING FOR THE TIDES AND FLAMES OF THRA UNDER THE CUT] Non-Spoiler HC: She has some minor scarring from SkekSa due to the Skeksis being a swashbuckling adventurer. Of course she’s gonna get nicked from time to time. UrSan has gotten used to these. She also has piercing holes along the sides of her snout, but she doesn’t choose to wear any piercings to go with them.

When Skeksa gets her hand cut off by Tae, as we know, the same happens to UrSan. Her hand being cut clean off. Thankfully Urru have four hands in all, but this wound took a lot out of UrSan and makes turning while swimming harder. As well as gripping to rocks in areas with stronger currents. Saltwater can sometimes enter the wound. Causing a stinging sensation. She also has a bad stab wound in her abdomen and shoulder. As well as burn scars across her body. Her Fight with SkekSa also gave the two of them some deep scars.

Although her Counterpart was imprisoned inside an enchanted apeknot tree, UrSan survived into the Garthim wars. During this time she would save and hide away as many Gelfling as she could even though all seemed hopeless. She died of unknown causes during this era. Let’s just hope her efforts weren’t in vain.

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stusbunker · 5 years

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The Crumbling Difference Between Wrong and Right

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Reader/ Unnamed Female Character

Word Count: 2085

Summary: Sam looks back over their time together only to find more questions than answers.

Warnings: Grief, character death, mental illness, assumed suicidal recklessness, smut adjacent, show level violence, letting go. Flashbacks in italics.

Beta-work and Beautiful aesthetic from @thoughtslikeaminefield

Title from Round Here by Counting Crows

^*^*^*^

She left him often. In big ways and small. He didn’t always notice, and she never really meant to, but it stung all the same. Sam had grown from instability, on resourcefulness and strategy. She grew like a wildflower in a manicured lawn, beautiful in an out-of-place kind of way; defiant in her radiance. He didn’t know if she was coming home until she did. Then, she didn’t.

Dean watched Sam watch the pyre, the flames reflecting in his eyes as tears dribbled out, heavy with the unsaid.

They found her two days too late, the rancid den caked in filth as they dragged her away from what remained of the ghouls. She always had a knack for finding hideouts, it would have been helpful if they’d known she’d been on the case. She wasn’t one to hunt alone.

Dean stood in the beating wind as long as Sam needed, watching the fire take her away for good. He almost hated her in that moment, seeing what she did to Sam--- what she always did to him.

^*^*^

Sam found her at the bathroom mirror, making faces at herself, teeth bared and eyes aghast, barefoot in yesterday’s shirt. He always seemed to breathe deeper with her around and he took a few hollowing ones before he asked when she got in.

She giggled once she realized he was there, feigning a casual demeanor as she answered softly. He met her at the sink, arms reaching around her for his toothbrush and paste, working through her space instead of moving her, comfortable without being cumbersome. Physically, they had always existed like a Venn diagram, if not touching, overlapping to the point where they were hard to differentiate.

She played with his hair as he went through his routine, emphasizing his rolling eyes before he pinned her to his chest, freshly shaved chin wedging between her shoulder and neck. She stayed for three months after that morning, almost long enough for it to feel real.

^*^*^

Donna’s laugh broke through the conversation, another round of beers passed between them as she told Jody and Donna about their last case, mocking Dean’s angry eyes and keeping her hand snugly in Sam’s back pocket. Sam loved to listen to her stories, even if he had lived them, she never failed to put on a show. It was safe here, with friends, because she didn’t feel the pressure to perform, to entertain, to earn her space. Here they all shared smiles, those that weren’t a currency.

On the back porch, Sam felt Jody sigh at them in a nostalgic and approving sort of way. It filled him with a warmth that Dean’s appraising glances had sapped. He nodded back through the kitchen window before settling in on the old picnic table beside her.

Eyes drifting to the stark winter sky, two borrowed blankets tight over her shoulders, she shivered and shined into the dark. That was the night he decided he’d wait for her forever. If she left for twenty years, he’d be there when she wandered home. If it was love, it was one that could only exist between two broken hunters who, at their cores, were optimists.

Sam left her to her stargazing, rejoining the dwindling post hunt ruckus. Dean half expected her to set up camp in Jody’s backyard; she’d gotten so comfortable with their friends. Even Claire seemed to tolerate her. He didn’t quite get it, but he kept that to himself. They left with the sun and were back in the bunker by lunchtime.

^*^*^

On one of her sudden appearances, she showed up just to shut down for a week.

She wouldn’t go outside, barely leaving their bedroom. She hummed to herself when she thought no one was within earshot. Sam found her on the fourth day, crying in frustration from crying.

Silently, he picked her up, laid her on the bed and curled around her until she quieted. Once she had control of her breathing, he started talking about his dad--- about the dozens of schools, the motels and the countless boxes of macaroni.

He told her about Dean and how his every good memory always trailed back to his big brother bearing more than any kid should. He talked about how he had accepted himself as a freak before he understood what was truly wrong with him. He whispered about regret and vice and promises of better days.

She listened, his voice her anchor in the abyss, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t offer him anything in return. Inside, she knew her stories didn’t matter, because she was defective. The bad things that had happened to her were not centuries in the making, weren’t earth shattering or soul crushing. Her weaknesses could be boiled down to a simple inaptitude for life in the linear. No one said it out loud, but even by hunters’ standards, she was a mess. It took two long cases and a salt and burn before Sam caught her true smile again. It felt like a secret honor to know which of her faces were genuine, which ones only shone in his presence.

Relief was good for dreaming.

^*^*^

Sam didn’t know who to call. He scrolled through her phone searching for names that struck something in his memory. So many had cities for last names he wasn’t sure he should try so hard. Then he worried there were others like him somewhere, and he would want to know, if he hadn’t been there to find her. Even if it was another guy’s voice breaking the news. Eventually he worked out how to add on to her outgoing message, letting whoever called know that she was gone. Never to be sure that there weren’t any others. That his name was the only one in three blaring capitals, a beacon and a prayer in her mind.

Dean watched him keep the thing charged, a new routine to cling to. Dean didn’t care how he managed it as long as he was staying above the breakers. Sam was a tough son-of-a-bitch, they both should have been used to this by now.

^*^*^

She stretched over his torso, slamming the alarm clock with a finality much heavier than five more minutes. Her breasts pillowed her collapse onto his ribs, settling in, mumbling through her pout.

He’d been awake, counting her breaths, allowing his own to overpower his need to move. Her legs tangled around his, a welcomed trap. They lingered in the lazy kisses, teasing and priming and tickling until lines were drawn and eyes snapped open. Dimples and teeth, breaking her down just to coax a certain grin from her pleading lips.

Once he was done with her, she fell back asleep stubbornly with only the pillows to cling to. Sam had stolen the blankets, another demand left unfulfilled. Of course, he’d rather keep her in his bed than not, asleep or otherwise. The pillowcases would keep her scent for him long enough to stave off the usual melancholy of missing her.

^*^*^

Dean wasn’t expecting her to show up, but it happened to be one of the times he underestimated her. She hugged him, long and tight, longer when he tried to pull away.

Sam almost laughed at the look on his brother’s face, until he remembered what brought her back this time. Their mom was dead, even if Dean wasn’t talking about it.

She didn’t hug Sam like she did Dean, instead she cupped his jaw and stared into his eyes, helping him allow himself to be seen. He sniffed against the onslaught, shaking his head as she softened further, leaning up to kiss his forehead. He dropped his face to her shoulder and cried, hands at her shoulders, bracing himself against her, his long-weathered rock.

She always knew Dean didn’t trust her, but she never blamed him; after all, she didn’t trust herself. They let Sam organize the tribute to Mary, she sensed whenever a new group of hunters showed up to pay their respects, their presence only added to Dean’s annoyance.

She had met Mary in passing, not long enough an acquaintance to have something to add to the stories. But she got to experience Mary’s strongest legacy each time she caught Dean checking on Sam, when Sam chided Dean’s eating habits. These boys existed because a hunter tried to live a normal, safe life and died in the process. Even eventually accepting her family’s calling, led Mary to another early death.

Fair had never been in their vocabulary.

As fast as they gathered, the hunters dispersed, leaving the Bunker to the boys and their sometimes roommate. That night Sam told her about seeing his mom as a ghost and again as a young woman, but nothing had prepared him for her return.

She felt the slightly bitter tone as he explained how Dean was Mary’s favorite, saw how he tried to bury that truth with logic and grace. At least she was with John now, they agreed. Uncertain what afterlife meant for them, both with pieces of their hearts already waiting for them in the beyond.

Sam felt her leave on the third morning, quick and quiet, no ceremony or farewell. It was the last time he’d see her alive.

If she’d known, would she have broken the pattern and stayed? Would she have come back at all?

^*^*^

The bodies were few and far between, teasing her resolve as she stumbled on the remains during an entirely different hunt. She hated a mystery, and this one kept her awake, a puzzle with an unseen timer. A different victim, a different deadline.

She didn’t have enough to bring it to Sam and Dean, though she did have a gnawing uncertainty and a four-county-wide dumpsite. One of the burdens and blessings of a mind like hers was its ability to focus on a task and ignore all others. Unchecked, she’d tread the gap between obsessed and consumed.

They drained her slowly, in turns. Fresh wounds against old scars, she watched them enjoy her bounty. Eventually she made her peace and stopped searching for spite or regrets or something to hold onto.

Instead she thought about Sam, somewhere safe. Head propped up on his hand at the library table, laptop open and a book in his lap; the way he could sleep sitting up; his big hand that was always warm. How lucky she was for knowing him, how much she hoped for him, and even some soft afterthoughts for Dean.

She let go thinking about the greens and browns of the earth and the blues and blacks of the sky--- eyes up and smile on.

^*^*^

The ghoul had lured him in with her face, but it couldn’t mimic her light.

Sam swung first, causing Dean to nearly fall on his ass in shock. The partner took the opening and got a solid elbow to Dean’s neck. It was over before Sam could make it worth it, before Dean found her, cold and empty.

The desperation surged through Sam, denial numbing his hands to the stiffness of her body, covering the stench of decay. He cradled her to his chest, impossibly smaller than ever before. A shell of her larger than life soul.

At the pyre, Sam felt Dean’s silent suspicions, but he wouldn’t entertain it. It was so vapidly inappropriate that it churned his stomach to try to reason with it.

Instead, he watched the fire burn, slow to tear into her, knowing its own and acknowledging the loss, before calling her back from whence she came: energy and ether.

^*^*^

The visions had grown more gruesome, the taste of demon blood stuck on his tongue.

Sam felt Chuck’s revisions without calculating their weight. His mind had enough to process. When she started toeing in their periphery, he wouldn’t look back at her. He refused to even acknowledge her presence. It was only in his head.

Her timing was better than this. Sam let her remain in the audience, let Chuck taunt him without overwhelming him. It was time she got to see his demons. He had juggled enough of hers.

When Chuck was finally finished and Sam felt himself slipping away, her voice carried him over the final barrier, to where Jess and Bobby, Mary and John were waiting for him. Of course, Dean brought her up, asking if Sam had seen her since they arrived. Sam sighed and shook his head at Dean, content and reassuring, “Can’t keep what doesn’t want to stay.”

^*^*^*^

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam angst #sam/reader #character death #grief #sam x reader #sam x unnamed female #Stu's 5 Fic Fridays #new fic

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literatelogan · 4 years

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the binding of two forces | a love that never lost momentum

{6: while it lasts} wattpad | a03

kobayashi kei is a teacher at U.A. who has an established relationship with aizawa shouta. kei and shouta have known each other ever since they started at UA together. their friendship had always been strong but this is the story of how they came to be as a couple and what the future holds.

a/n - !manga spoilers! slightly divergent of the main plot but it will be caught up to the current season of the anime after the time skip. she is the homeroom teacher for 1B but don't worry we still stan vlad in this house so he's now 2B. bit of a promotion for the trouble. her quirk is fatigue manipulation. she has the ability to manipulate the fatigue of oneself or others, both mental and physical. she can increase, decrease, cause or prevent fatigue. in order to increase someone's fatigue, she needs to either leech from another person or herself. her fatigue is only affected if she is using a lot of energy either giving or transferring. if she takes energy from someone else, she will gain it. she cannot rest or sleep until she gets all of her energy out either by wearing herself out mentally or physically. she cannot kill someone easily but she can make some lose consciousness.

It wasn't quite sunset but the sun was still low enough in the sky that everything had that sort of golden glow. Everything that light bounced off of had just a bit more sparkle to it. Maybe that was her mind getting away from her as she looked at Shouta. It was the end of the festival and the day had been so wonderful. The whole squad had such a good time and if she could have willed the day to never end, she would have. Having a relaxing and fun day in a sea of school work and training was a relief. He told her to wait. He stopped her. She was about to leave and say goodbye to him but he stopped her. She wasn't sure why but her heart was racing. She blushed and looked down at the ground. "I can't even look at him right now. He's so cute." She felt the fingers that were entangled in her's drift away from them. With confusion on her face, she looked back up at Shouta who was smiling softly at her. And blushing?

{aizawa's pov}

Oh crap. "Why did you say wait? Why did you stop her? You have no plan. This is not part of the plan. Because there is no plan. Shit." He looked at Kobayashi and could not believe a girl that beautiful was holding his hand right now. The sunlight danced on the strands of her hair. She had a sparkle in her eye. She just looked...so beautiful. And then she was looking away from him. "Crap. Okay. What do I do? I need to do something." As if of its own will, the hand that held Kobayashi's left hers. He smiled at her as she lifted her head and gently ran the hand against her chin, cupping it lightly. "You can do this." He moved a bit closer to her and whispered, "Is it okay if I kiss you?" A small nod from Kobayashi was all he needed before pulling her chin to close the gap. Their lips barely touched and already his entire body felt like it was on fire. Slowly and gently, he pressed his lips against hers. His eyes fluttered closed as she kissed back and his hand moved to the back of her head. All of the tension from the entire year felt like it left his body. His free arm wrapped around her back and pulled her close to him. "It really is like this." He pulled his lips away from her but it took all of his efforts. He rested his forehead against hers still and smiled, not knowing or caring what to say. He was in a daze and all he saw was her. In this moment, nothing else came close to mattering.

{kei's pov}

Shivers ran through Kei's entire body the second Shouta's hand touched her chin. "He's moving towards me. He's touching me. Oh my god. Is this actually happening? Someone pinch me. This is a dream." His words snapped her out of her internal monologue. Surprised and unsure how to speak anymore, she gave him a little nod in reply, and then they were kissing. She could not believe this was really happening. From being the boy who didn't even look at her on that first day, to now. "Does this mean we're dating?" All other thoughts were jumbled. He was a good kisser. Not that she had any reference seeing as this was her first kiss. But if this was bad kissing, she wanted to kiss all the time. His lips were warm. A little soft but he could use a little bit of balm. She tilted her head a little and melted into the kiss. As his eyes closed, so did hers. She let out a little squeak when he pulled her closer. Butterflies danced in her stomach as they stayed there. It could have been a minute or a year and she would not have known the difference. All she knew was that she wanted to be there forever. When their lips separated, she was breathing just slightly heavier than normal. They stayed there for a little while. Just in an embrace not knowing what to do or what to say.

They tried to keep the boys and Kayama from finding out for as long as they could. It lasted about 2 days with Kayama, 4 with Oboro, and a week with Hizashi. They never kissed in public. Holding hands was already a bit taboo. When they could walk to the train together, they would. And if they managed to sneak off to steal a kiss somewhere, that was their secret. Every time Shouta so much as looked at her the right way, she blushed. Their phone calls consisted of a little bit less studying and a bit more puppy love. They still weren't dating. Nope. Not allowed. Soon enough it was time for term finals again. The group of four had been training together whenever allowed. Constantly trying to better themselves and each other. It had prepared them as much as they could be prepared for the Final. It was almost the end of their first year. It felt impossible that so much had happened in such short a time. It felt like just yesterday they were doing their first training. Just yesterday that they all met and became friends.

Kei had been slacking on her morning runs. She had spent too much time talking to Shouta too late. Satoru pointed it out at dinner one night and the rest of the family agreed. She needed her energy especially with exams coming. With promises to her family that she would not slack, she started to focus on school and her routine again. The calls were shorter but that was okay. They spent a lot of time together during the day. Although going back to normal felt a bit weird at first, they adjusted. Kei trained with the boys one on one as they all took turns with different pair-ups. They learned that giving Hizashi more energy made him louder but only to a point. With Recovery Girl on hand, she worked with a teacher to see how much she could drain. She needed to know how much energy she could drain and how much she could hold without giving it to someone new. If she made someone unconscious with her power, she could still feel their energy after. That was when she realized that her quirk could kill. She accompanied Recovery Girl to the practices of other classes to see how much of her power could help in healing. Combined, they were able to heal someone and keep their energy up. And as long as the injuries were minimal, Kei was able to restore someone's stamina to its normal state. These practices took a lot out of her, as was to be expected. She started going to bed earlier and having a short phone call with Shouta every once in a while.

{aizawa's pov}

Everything was going so fast. After the first kiss, he couldn't stop wanting to kiss her. Anytime he saw another guy so much as look at her, he shot daggers at them. They weren't dating though. Maybe he wanted to but he wasn't ready for that conversation even with himself. Sometimes she would run her fingers through his hair when they kissed and he thought about that for hours after. He knew it would be wildly inappropriate but he wanted to cling to her in the halls. He wanted to hold onto her constantly. Every touch was fleeting but drove him mad. When she blushed, he melted. His brain was a cloud of thoughts about her. He had zoned out staring at her again in class. Yamada slapped him on the back of the head to snap him out of it. When the guys were willing to listen, he gushed about her. They made fake vomit noises and faces in return. "I just want to go to so many places with her. I want to do so many things with her." Yamada laughed. "With or to?" Shirakumo pat him on the back with a howling laugh of his own. "Good one." Aizawa glared at them both. "It's not like that." Shirakumo nodded and Yamada shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. I feel like I'm in a daze."

Then as it grew closer to the finals, Kobayashi was busier with studying. He knew it was important. He had been slacking in every class she was in and even some of the others. They would study over the phone as much as they could. And then she started needing to go to bed earlier. Understandable as her quirk was entirely reliant on her energy levels. The phone calls got shorter. And then they got less frequent. Well. They weren't dating. Shouta dove into his studies to keep his mind off of his stupid feelings. What kind of idiot thinks one of the most beautiful girls Japan has ever seen wouldn't get bored with him. They would still hold hands. They would still kiss sometimes on their walks to the train. But things just felt different. Maybe there was someone cooler. Some third year or something. Shouta started devoting a lot of his time to combat training. As someone with a quirk that didn't make him stronger or faster, he needed to do it himself. When he wasn't studying for the finals, he was working on his strength. Sparring partners weren't hard to come by and seeing as they couldn't use their quirks on him, it was easier to make a more even playing field. A lot of his training was with his capture weapon.

{kei's pov}

Finals were upon them. All of this studying and prep work culminated in one of the most stressful times of Kei's life. The first year of her true journey to become a pro hero. To save people. The practical was difficult and by the end of it, she felt as though she might drop. Though she pulled a lot of energy from her opponents, she did also use a lot of it for her more combat driven teammates. A strategy Saturo had been telling her to employ since she was a child. "You have to be a healer for the tanks." It rang in her head while she gave her all. The written portion of the exam was more intimidating but as she sat down to take it, she felt more comfortable. Having really devoted the past couple of weeks wholeheartedly into studying, she did well. Her scores were not perfect but she was 8th in the class. This was a huge improvement from the start of the year and she couldn't help but think that it was largely driven by her growth through her friends. Without them, she wouldn't be the hero she was already growing to be. It was thanks to them.

Thanks to Kayama, Hizashi, Oboro, and Shouta. She would give her all to repay them. Her life if she had to.

#literatelogan #literateloganworks #the binding of two forces #aizawa x oc #aizawa #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa shouta #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction

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broken-clover · 5 years

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ACC Day 25- Freebie (Scents)

I cannot blame anyone but myself for my own lateness. Still, this was fun!

This one’s kinda weird because I just wanted to do an AU where everything was sorta okay. Ragna, Noel, and Jin are trying to reconcile, nobody’s dying, and Jin’s getting the mental help he needs. It’s self indulgent as hell and I am not even going to try and justify it.

Using Noel today! Which might be odd, since I realize I forgot to put her on my headcanons list in the first place? Which was very silly of me.

Graduation day had finally come to a close, and Noel gladly retreated to her dorms to escape the hustle and bustle. Of course it was a special day, for her and for all of her friends, but after a full day of talking and socializing, Noel was long passed being burned out, and she needed time to let herself cool down and just be by herself.

The dorm was half-dismantled when she returned. She, Tsubaki, and Makoto all had a lot of packing to do before they moved out, and the ship to Kagutsuchi was heading out first thing in the morning, so none of them had very much time left to put away everything.

It was going to be strange to be stationed out somewhere else. Torifune had been her home for such a long time now, and Noel wasn’t really sure if she was ready for so many changes all at once. At least both of her partners had been stationed in the same place. It was relieving to think that she’d still have that bit of familiarity, and since they’d all decided to share an apartment together, Noel would always be able to see them at the end of the day.

She could still feel Bolverk’s pull on her thoughts, keeping her emotions in line and helping her stay relatively composed. She left her guns on the desk and sprawled out on her bed, pressing her face into the pillows and letting out a deep sigh.

Noel was exhausted.

When she found the energy to move, she rolled onto her side and grabbed a teddy bear that was slumped against her sheets. The soft fur was comforting to the touch, and as she wrapped her arms around the toy, the smell of mint and lavender filled her nose. It was a gift from Tsubaki, in an attempt to help her girlfriend with her anxiety. In addition to the soothing smells, it was also weighted, which helped Noel ground herself and have something to focus on when she was nearing a panic attack.

Scents were nice. Noel liked using them to remind her of places. The smells that soothed her now always made her think of Tsubaki. Every time she was upset and clung onto her bear, it reminded her of one of her favorite people in the world.

”Whenever you feel upset, just focus on that, alright? Just take deep breaths. You’re going to be just fine. I’ll help you the best I can.”

Maybe that would be a good place to start on packing. She grabbed a small box off of the floor and gently placed the stuffed animal in it. After taking one last whiff of mint and lavender, Noel moved over to grab another toy that tended to stay on her bed.

It was a stuffed squirrel, another gift, handmade by Makoto. The seams were a little wonky, and it tended to flop over from the lack of stuffing to support it, but the material was nice to the touch, and the sachet sewn inside of it released the smell of walnuts. After hearing about how worried Noel tended to get when she was away for long periods of time, Makoto had made the plushie as something to keep her company while she was away. Now the scent of walnuts always made her think of her girlfriend’s bright smile, boundless confidence, and kindness.

“So you’ll always have someone looking after you, okay, Noellie?”

She tucked the squirrel away beside her teddy bear.

Recalling a sudden memory, Noel pulled open the drawer on her nightstand. A little red backpack clip was nestled in between forgotten hair-ties and other little accessories. It looked and smelled like watermelon, though the scent was just slightly faded. She’d won it at a festival game alongside the rest of Team Remix Heart. It was little more than a consolation prize, but she kept it for the sentiment of spending time with her friends.

”C’mon, Noellie, you’ve got this!”

“You’re going to stress her out, Makoto, calm down.”

“Don’t be such a buzzkill, Kajun, it’s a festival!”

“Not you too, Mai! Honestly…”

She wasn’t sure how often she was going to see any of them now. Kajun had gone back to Sector Seven, and Mai had left the academy early, without any sort of mention of where she was headed or why.

Before her emotions could well up, Noel put it away and moved on.

The one she pulled off of the dresser was the most recent, only unwrapped yesterday. It was a special present from her beloved big brother, a big chubby bunny doll that smelled like vanilla. Ranga had traveled out so he could see her graduate, and he’d passed over a shiny wrapped package that he’d claimed was supposed to be a housewarming gift for their new quarters once all three of them moved out. They weren’t sure how often they’d be able to see each other, but Ragna promised to keep in touch even if they were both busy. He’d given her a rare genuine smile, and a tight hug.

”I’m really proud of you, kiddo. You know that, right?”

Noel gave it a hug of her own, felt the smile come back to her face, and put the rabbit in the box.

With the memory of Ragna still vivid, she pushed aside her slaved-over study papers until she found a little pink blob lying on her desk. She hadn’t ever actually played a Kirby game before, but she could still admire how absolutely adorable the creature was, especially in the form of a strawberry-scented squishy.

She was pretty sure Jin hadn’t, either, but that hadn’t been the important part. It was meant to be an object of reconciliation, a small token given alongside one of the first conversations Noel had found herself in with him in over two years.

They’d always been estranged, but aside from knowing that the impressive major Kisaragi had let his position, he might as well have vanished off of the face of the planet. Noel wasn’t sure if she was worried or secretly relieved, but after being sent a sent an odd letter from Yamatsumi in his handwriting, she’d arrived to find that he’d checked himself into a psychological facility almost a year ago, trying to address his issues instead of masking them with brusqueness and anger. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. There was a definite softness to him that there hadn’t been before, but Jin was quick to mention that even after he planned to live independently again, he was still going to be taking regular therapy sessions. He wasn’t suddenly perfect, but Noel could tell that he had been trying incredibly hard.

When the nurse arrived to let them know that visiting hours were almost over, Jin had passed her the little figure, and given her hand a light squeeze.

“I want to get better, Noel. I’m going to make myself better. For all three of us.”

As much bad blood as they’d seemed to have, Noel really did want them to be a family again. As soon as she could, she wanted to visit him again.

The last toy she grabbed was distinct in not only being the oldest, but also the only one to have no intentional smell to it. It was a little doll, modeled after the Torifune Pandas that lived around the city. Edgar and Claire had given it to her shorty after her adoption, as a sign of their love and acceptance of her. It matched the tiny size of the real pandas, small enough that Noel could put it in her uniform pocket and gently pet it whenever she needed something to calm herself down. While it was supposed to be just a simple toy, it had managed to cling onto the lingering scents of home- the furniture cleaner her mother liked to use, with just a bit of her dad’s cologne. It was weird now, to stay in contact with her birth siblings and her adopted family at the same time, but they had loved her unconditionally, and in Noel’s mind, they were just as much her parents as anyone could be.

The little box was almost full. Noel held it close, taking in all the scents all at once, flooding her mind with memories of all the people she loved. Once she was sure she’d had enough, she folded the cardboard ears down and reached for the packing tape.

Maybe moving wouldn’t be so bad after all. Hopefully her new home would bring more special memories for Noel to cherish.

#autistic creative challenge #writing #Blazblue #Noel Vermillion #Makoto Nanaya #tsubaki yayoi #Academy Trio #Ragna the Bloodedge #Jin Kisaragi

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cleverbroadwayurl · 6 years

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Skinny Love (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt 11)

Song: Skinny Love by Birdy (Bon Iver originally wrote it, but I prefer the Birdy cover)

Need to Catch Up? PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8 PART 9 PART 10

Want More? PART 12 PART 13 PART 14 PART 15 PART 16 PART 17 PART 18 PART 19

Word Count: 8425 (I’m so sorry this got away from me)

A/N: OH MY GOD I DID IT! Part 11 here she is! Please feel free to give me feedback, good or bad (pls I needed to research and if the actions (you’ll know which ones) aren’t healthy please help me I have not had healthy actions)! My requests are still open for those of you wondering! I’m all open to do teasers/sneak peeks but it might take me a little bit because there’s literally only 1 line of part 12 written (unless you want that one line that I’m debating on changing, go ahead). This is a pretty self indulgent part, just a fair warning! I was even going to call it something else bc that would be even more self indulgent but I decided against it. It’s in the moodboard though so not completely omitted you guys Anyways! Please enjoy this fic, I think I’ll stick with bi-weekly updates for the time being!

Trigger Warnings: hooo boy lots: mentions of an abusive relationship, mentions of an abusive boyfriend, mentions of sexual assault, implications of sexual assault, some close to nsfw stuff (at least for my little pure ass), mentions of the Halloween Party IF I MISSED ANYTHING AT ALL PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Taglist: @retrogarden @be-more-heidi-hansen @catatonic-kuragin @bluhimaweirdo @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans

Michael: No worries dude. Michael: Get some sleep. You deserve it.

Jeremy had hoped that you wouldn’t call again. Not that he didn’t want to see you, it’s just that with the information he had now, he just…yeah he really hoped you wouldn’t call or text unless something miraculous had happened. Like maybe you broke up with your boyfriend and you just happened to want to see Jeremy to see what he was doing for dinner that night. Maybe you two would eat dinner before going back to his empty house, only to have Rich or something bring over some wine (did you like wine? You seemed classy enough to enjoy it), and the two of you would celebrate your freedom and happiness. Maybe there’d be tipsy kisses, quickly turning into—

He shook his head of those thoughts as Luigi hit Kirby with a combination move yet again. Fuck, since when did Michael get so good at Super Smash Brothers? Usually the two were evenly matched, Jeremy’s Kirby wreaking havoc on Michael’s usual Luigi. But tonight, he couldn’t seem to focus. The computers were long gone, leaving Jeremy and Michael at a one on one battle once again. They’d only set them at level 5, as it had been a while since they’d done Throwback Night on the N64.

The match continued, Jeremy making a steady comeback as Michael’s lives depleted to only 2. Jeremy was at 1, but it wouldn’t be too hard to knock Michael off another time. He had led Michael to the edge of the map, getting ready to leap out of the way of Luigi’s charge move, which would hopefully send him over the edge. Or, he could swallow Luigi and just jump off the edge as a kamikaze. As soon as Jeremy was going to hit the button to jump up and avoid the fatal strike, his phone vibrated. He glanced over, seeing your caller ID before throwing the controller on the ground, and reaching to pick up his phone, Kirby’s last noises fading into the distance as Luigi stood victorious.

“Hello?” He gasped into the phone, hoping, praying that this time he’d managed to catch you before something horrible happened.

“Jeremy?”

“It’s me,” he nodded, before realizing that you couldn’t see him. “Do you need help?”

“Uhh, yeah, I do—fuck—I’m going out to my car right now. Are you free to meet somewhere? I’m sorry to completely ruin your night, but like I just, I really need some help right now.”

“Let’s meet at my house, do you remember where it is?” Jeremy asked, palms immediately accumulating moisture.

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” He could hear your car door slam through his phone, the doors locking mere milliseconds after closing. The engine turned over, a small string of ‘shit’s coming out of your mouth.

“Hey, you good?” Jeremy spoke urgently into the phone.

“I-I’m good Jeremy. I’m on my way now,” you exhaled, he could imagine you running your hand through your hair. “I’m so sorry to do this again, but—shit, I thought I had more time.”

“It’s totally fine, I promise. Just focus on getting here safely.”

“Do you need me to go?” Michael whispered, taking advantage of the sudden silence. Jeremy didn’t respond, eyes not even glancing at his best friend, mind running wild with your state.

“Hey, I just turned onto your street. I’ll be there in like 30 seconds.”

“I’ll go upstairs and unlock the door for you. Come in whenever you need to,” Jeremy noted, immediately getting up, Michael following suit.

He could hear you turn the car off and he unlocked the door. Stepping back, Jeremy immediately made eye contact with Michael, nodding to his best friend, as if to say ‘your lips are sealed. Nothing leaves this room’. The other boy nodded, not breaking eye contact. There was a moment of stillness before the front door handle turned, sending Jeremy’s heart from 10mph to 60 in half a second flat.

You bolted in, closing the door behind you. Your eyes locked onto Jeremy’s before you sped up and ran directly into him. He wasn’t ready for the amount of force that you rushed at him with, but as soon as your arms wrapped around him, Jeremy recovered. The phone you had in your hand was still lit up, showing the boy you hugged that you hadn’t even bothered to hang up. It didn’t take long for him to return the gesture, feeling your breath against his skin. It was hard and hot, but he could feel it slowing down at a steady rate.

“Thank you,” you mumbling into him, clinging to him as if he was your life preserver in an ocean filled with death.

It wasn’t long before you broke the hug. You looked around you, eyes fixating on Michael in nearly no time at all. Red crept into your cheeks while all color drained from your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” you looked at the ground for a second, “I’ll just go.”

“I was actually just leaving,” Michael smiled at you, quickly picking up on your habits. “My moms want me home tonight. Something about them wanting to try ‘Family Game Night?’ Anyways, I’ll see you later.”

“Are you sure?” you asked hands beginning to tremble.

“Yeah. I’m positive. Text me later, okay Jeremy?” Michael asked breaking eye contact with you and looking over at his best friend.

Jeremy only nodded in response as Michael made his way to the front door, opening it and leaving. Heaviness remained, the lightheartedness of his best friend gone. It was as if the situation was suddenly becoming real to the two of them and Jeremy could see you begin to crumble. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, “If I knew, I wouldn’t have called you.”

“Hey,” the boy took a step closer to you, softness completely taking over his whole demeanor. “It’s alright. The most important thing right now is that you’re safe, okay?”

You nodded stiffly, eyes not even glancing in Jeremy’s direction. He took a chance and step forward, careful not to intimidate you. The lanky boy stood next to you as your eyes fixated on a singular spot on the ground. This worried him. Actually, it more than worried Jeremy, but he couldn’t think of a better word. At the very least, he knew what to do, which was comforting thought. He knew to ask for consent and to double check with you at all times. He knew that being your support system wasn’t only though soft touches and kind words, but it was also just simply through his presence. You didn’t always need someone to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay, yeah sometimes you just needed a friend.

But those thoughts disappeared as he noticed your arms fold. Your shoulders collapsed, almost as if you were trying to build a way between you and the rest of the world. It wasn’t extremely noticeable, but Jeremy recognized the gesture almost immediately. He held his hand out, just above your shoulder as an attempt to comfort you. Just as he was about to lower that hand, something told him not to. There was something…familiar about the way you stood and the way you presented yourself in this particular moment. Maybe it was because you’d done a very similar thing not too long ago. That couldn’t be it, though. No, this was much different, and it upset Jeremy that he just couldn’t place it.

“Do you need anything?” Jeremy asked, resisting every urge to wrap you up in his arms.

You froze. There was a silence that fell over the room, and unfortunately, there was absolutely nothing calm about it. A new tension sat you two, the boy hoping he didn’t cross a boundary. You didn’t move as your voice spoke. “This is gonna sound really weird, but can I possibly take a shower?”

Jeremy was taken aback by your request. Out of all of the things he was prepped for, asking for a shower was something he wasn’t. He mentally went over in his head which bathroom he should guide you to. His dad’s might be more than embarrassing, but if his wasn’t cleaned, it would be the only option. Although his memory might be playing tricks on him, Jeremy could remember his dad saying something about doing laundry and going through the bathroom to pick up a little bit. Then again, Jeremy had been playing The Awesome Adventures of Captain Spirit when his dad started cleaning around the house, so maybe it was the game? He wasn’t sure. Which meant that somehow, Jeremy had to see if his bathroom was clean without drawing suspicion from you.

Apparently it had been a bit since Jeremy had said anything, because you began speaking again, this time your eyes darting from his to anywhere else in the room. “I don’t mean to intrude, you can totally say no, I just wanted to clean my self up I guess? Not that you didn’t do a good job the last time I was here, because believe me, you did much better than I ever could, but like I just want to rinse off, is that okay? You know what, just forget I said anything, I’m fine, thank you,” your voice was a whisper by the end of you little speech, eyes fixating on the floor once again.

The teenage boy inhaled, trying his hardest to remain calm. This was a moment to rue them all; you’d just confirmed that your boyfriend didn’t care about your basic needs. His fists clenched and then quickly relaxed. He could feel his face growing red; breathing becoming a labored task. And not only had you just confirmed something that Jeremy hoped hadn’t been happening, but you seemed to get worse since the last time he saw you. A week or so ago, you were at least making eye contact and a little bit more stable. You were more capable, sure of your choices. This was different, and Jeremy knew it.

“You can totally take a shower here, okay?” He smiled as softly as he could before almost leaving you alone to take a shower. It was now that Jeremy realized you had you had never been in his bathroom, or even remotely near it. He took a breath, unclenched his jaw, and reached his hand out. “I’ll take you there.”

His voice surprised him. Jeremy didn’t expect any kind of softness to exit him while he was choosing new ways to completely fuck up your boyfriend’s life, but he’d managed it. Now that was fantastic acting. Jeremy silently thanked Christine for all of her acting tips and tricks, noting to buy her lunch before going off to college. Because if anything, she had just saved his ass.

You took his hand hesitantly before he led you up the stairs and down the hall. Jeremy knew that he could’ve just told you where the bathroom was, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Something told him that there would be consequences to his actions tonight, more so than the other time you’d appeared at his doorstep. For some reason, there was a tension in the air that wasn’t there before. The pressure set in as his hand clenched the door handle, knuckles immediately turning white upon contact. The anger had left, leaving only a bundle of nerves in its place.

His hand twisted the door knob, only opening it a fraction of the way he normally would’ve, and turned on the light just to be sure that it wasn’t a complete disaster. Jeremy let the nerves go as he scanned the room; his dad had definitely come in earlier that day and cleaned. He opened the door wider so that you could step in with him, your hand still securely wrapped in his.

“So you can use whatever you’d like,” Jeremy said, pulling his hand away from yours as gently as he could. He didn’t make eye contact; he couldn’t make eye contact. His stomach formed knots, the tips of his ears getting hot as he continued “Towels are under the sink when you’re done.”

He finally looked at you, noticing that you were watching him carefully. Not exactly making eye contact, but rather just staring, almost contemplating what was going to happen next. A small smile formed on your face, hand coming up and covering part of your mouth. “Thank you so much, Jeremy. It means…it means a lot.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiled back, rubbing his palms on the sides of his jeans. You two switched places somewhat awkwardly, concern pooling into Jeremy’s eyes. “I’ll be in my room across the hall if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.”

Jeremy nodded before exiting the bathroom, hearing the door lock quickly behind him. There was a small celebration: first of all, his dad was away for the night, making your timing nearly perfect, and second of all, he was glad, so fucking glad, that his dad had picked up in his bathroom. The celebration didn’t last very long. While the bathroom was clean, his room definitely wasn’t. He nearly sprinted across the hall, almost tripping over his own feet as he did so.

As soon as he got into his room, Jeremy shut his laptop and kicked things under his bed. He wasn’t sure how long this shower would take, you could be out in just a few minutes. You could catch him doing something—literally anything from doing something dumb or, even worse, frantically cleaning. He didn’t want that, anything but that. He wanted to be cool in a way that would possibly impress you, but still allow you to feel safe. Jeremy stood back for a second, admiring his fast work, before situating himself on his bed, thumb opening his phone and scrolling through whatever social media he could find.

After what felt like a while, he glanced at the time. He blinked a few times to make sure his phone was correct. Had you really been in the shower for 30 minutes? Jeremy paled. Was this normal? Did you pass out? Would Jeremy have to call someone in order to help? He physically shook his head. Long showers are normal. They had to be, right? Yeah, he was sure that you were okay. Then again, if something did happen, Jeremy wasn’t sure if he would be able to forgive himself for leaving you alone when you needed him most.

Now he was searching for something, anything, to get his mind off of you. He didn’t want to think about all of the horrible possibilities right now. The idea that you were currently standing in the shower bleeding out was not exactly a comforting thought. No, he needed to focus on something different, something that wasn’t you.

15 minutes of absolutely agonizing waiting, you knocked on his door, dressed in the same stuff you were before. He sat up almost immediately as you asked Jeremy if you could join him on his bed. He only nodded, shifting slightly to give you enough room.

Both of your legs hung over the side as you looked around at the posters that hung on Jeremy’s wall.

“Cool room,” you said, still looking around.

“Thanks,” Jeremy replied, his hand going to scratch the back of his neck. You flinched, only slightly, but the lanky teenager caught it. He gulped before speaking without any forethought “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reassured, a slight waver to your voice, “I’m fine. How are you?”

You finally made eye contact with Jeremy, except his heart didn’t swell like it normally did. No, this time it broke. Your normally vibrant eyes were dull, red surrounding them as if you’d been crying in the shower. He could see the veins glowing brightly, his eyes moving downward to see the puffiness underneath. Your smile was watery, glassy tears still forming in your eyes at an alarming rate.

The way you sat was almost frightening. It was now clear that you had intentionally sat in such a way where your body would take up the least amount of surface area at one time. You were hunched over, arms crossed and almost touching your thighs. As much as Jeremy wanted to admit that the worst he’d ever seen you at was the last time you went to his house, it wasn’t. This definitely was. Maybe it was the lack of emotions; the numbness you seemed to have. He needed to find out what happened, and preferably soon. But for now, he would stick with small talk. He needed to keep conversation light.

“I’m fine,” he noted, not daring to break eye contact. “Do you need a hug?”

You hesitated, fingers picking at one another. Jeremy hoped he hadn’t crossed any boundaries with you. Out of all of the terrible things that could happen, that was at the top of his list. Your eyes tore away from him and Jeremy could feel his heart ache more than it did before. “Sure,” you spoke softly, as if you’d offend Jeremy if you talked to him too loudly.

He wrapped his arms around you, being as careful as he could with each passing second. The moment he got close enough, you rested your body onto his. He could feel the tension release and your head hit the crook of his neck. Your breathing evened, going from labored to the simplest task.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pulling away from the hug.

“It’s okay,” Jeremy replied sheepishly.

There was silence in a room for a second, almost debating your next move. Jeremy noticed you shiver, arms crossing again before your hands began moving up and down your bicep. He moved without thinking over to his closet, trying to find something to make you comfortable. His fingers touched the edge of his blue sweater, and in an instant, he knew that it was the perfect thing to give you.

He took it from the hanger, hands carrying the sweater with a certain kind of delicacy. Jeremy sat next to you once more as your eyes shifted to look at him. Unfolding the sweater, he looked at it for a moment before draping it over your shoulders. Jeremy knew he had succeeded in making you feel even just a little bit better when you gave a soft smile. You took a breath in, as if you were inhaling the moment. If there was something Jeremy knew, it was that neither of you wanted to forget this.

“You looked cold,” Jeremy broke the silence.

The dullness returned to your eyes as you nodded. His mind starting racing, he needed to make this better, and fast. “It’s kinda funny you know,” he started, hoping that this one little thing he thought was ironic wouldn’t upset you, “you said that you had borrowed my sweater before, now it’s actually true.”

You gave a chuckle, and Jeremy lit up. Yes! You put your arms through the sleeves of his blue sweater, pulling the ends to cover your hands just enough. There was a pause. Your eyes met his, faces almost inches apart from one another’s. Jeremy could practically feel his eyes closing, his face getting redder by the second. “Can we lay down?” you asked innocently, shooting big doe eyes at the awkward boy who sat beside you.

It was his turn to be speechless, his face only getting redder. You swung your legs around and began leaning back. Jeremy waited until you were comfortable before leaning back himself. Both of you laid down on your side, faces merely inches apart. The two of you remained like that for a little bit, before you broke contact with Jeremy, laying on your back instead of facing him like before. He watched as you did so, eyes scanning you body. You were stiff, not completely comfortable still. He watched your eyes shift, staring at his ceiling with a blank stare. It was in this moment that Jeremy realized just how much you meant to him. You were everything, even in these moments of absolutely nothing.

“Do you want to talk about something?” he asked cautiously. His eyes eventually trained on your emotionless face as you stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Michael had put on his ceiling when they were just 14. It started as a joke, Michael teasing Jeremy about how ‘afraid of the dark he was’, but now he’d grown to love them. They halfheartedly glowed as twilight fell upon the room, but Jeremy didn’t dare move a muscle to turn on a lamp.

He could barely make out your features, but Jeremy saw you nod. “I just don’t know where to start.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Jeremy reminded.

“But, like, I don’t know, I feel like I need to tell someone.” You went silent for a second, eyes scanning his ceiling. You gulped. Even in dusk, he could see that clearly. Nerves were getting to you, no doubt about it. “I don’t know how though.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to say. He had been through this, sure, but he wasn’t quite sure what you were alluding to. At this point in time, it could be anything. But he knew one thing for sure. If you wanted to tell him, he would give his full attention to you, no matter how long it took. “It’s okay. It doesn’t need to be perfect. You can wait on telling me, too.”

You shook your head, eyes still focused on the stars above. “I won’t do it later. Or, at least, I don’t think I will.”

The caring boy nodded, eyes almost encouraging you to speak.

There was a beat before your face contorted into a grimace, eyes just squinting open as you spoke. It was a while before you actually said anything, but Jeremy was happy to wait. It took a minute before you spoke again, your body and face completely stoic. “Have you ever been…” You trailed off, but soon tried again. “Have you ever been like…in a situation where…I don’t know…you—uhh you didn’t want something, but maybe the other person didn’t stop?”

Jeremy paled before his cheeks turned bright red. His fists balled up, next tensing. He could feel his veins begin to make an appearance, his jaw clenching in the process. He remained still, but his breathing hardened, like he’d been running for miles. He was going to kill your boyfriend. It didn’t matter if he’d be in prison, it didn’t matter if he got in trouble with his dad. The only thing that mattered was your safety, which right now, was being completely ignored. Fuck, he’d seen it before, he’d seen the fucking texts and now it was too late. Jeremy could feel his hands move, almost getting up to get his keys and personally drive to the police station and get you to the hospital because there was no way, no way, your stupid punk ass dipshit boyfriend was getting away with—

“I’m sorry, that sounded really awful. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it,” you noted, almost sensing Jeremy’s anger.

For just a moment, everything was still. This wasn’t about him, or revenge on your boyfriend right now. This was about you. Sweet, good, amazing, you, who didn’t deserve half of this. What made it worse was Jeremy knew that feeling. He knew it way too well and wouldn’t have wished it on his own worst enemy, much less the one person who meant the world to him. “I get it,” Jeremy mumbled.

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyes immediately darting towards Jeremy.

“The Halloween party junior year at Jake Dillinger’s house. Someone pulled me into a room and started…making advances that I didn’t want. I couldn’t even stand up and leave, you know? I’m not even sure how I did it, but I managed to get out of there and into the bathroom as fast as I could. I mean, if things didn’t work out the way they did…”

You nodded, not needing Jeremy to even utter the words. “I guess this is sort of similar.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked.

“I mean like,” you stopped, almost as if you’d been frozen instantly. “Sometimes he kisses me and I don’t want him to. But if I say no, then it’s game over, you know? And it’s not like I can just pull away, either. He like…holds my face against his, finger tips digging into the back of my neck. Even if I’ve stopped kissing, he won’t let go no matter how hard I push against him.” Jeremy didn’t say anything as you kept going. “But like tonight it escalated.”

You didn’t meet eyes with the boy beside you; you hadn’t for a while. “I guess tonight was basically a repeat of the Halloween party for you, but like it was me in that situation instead. Things went to far, I ran for the bathroom and got the fuck out of there. I just grabbed my stuff and left, even though he kept apologizing to me. And you know, maybe I would’ve actually believed them if they weren’t so false all the time.” You paused for a second, regaining some composure. “Fuck, what did I get myself into?”

“Something you don’t deserve,” Jeremy interjected. He could feel his fists clench again, heat rising in his veins. Oh your boyfriend was gonna pay. He was gonna fucking pay.

You sighed, a waver coming from your throat. “Thanks, but I mean like, maybe it’s my fault? Like I do say yes and he isn’t really good at picking up on hints. I know that. Just like I know I can say no. But it’s like, would he even stop if I did? Would he hurt me if I said no? Would he be offended and just start screaming at me over text like he’s done a thousand times now?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jeremy started, “but I can’t hear you say this anymore.” His hands waved, as if they could stop you all on their own. “What you’re telling me is that you don’t have the option to say no. That’s not consent.”

“But sometimes I don’t say anything. That means he doesn’t know I don’t want it, right? So, it’s my fault.”

“Not even a little bit,” the boy beside you said, losing all of the building anger. There was no way that this was your fault, no matter how anybody twisted it. He had to tell you that, at the very least. Jeremy decided to use the example from before to show you exactly how wild you sounded. “I didn’t say no at the Halloween party. I was forced into a situation where I didn’t say anything. People made advances and I didn’t mutter a single yes or no. Does that mean I consented?”

“No, of course not,” you said, eyes shifting towards Jeremy’s figure.

“Then doesn’t it work the same way for you?”

You were quiet for a second, and Jeremy hoped that he’d won you over. He knew he hadn’t when your face remained the same, not showing any emotion at all. “This is different.”

“How?” he asked, jumping at the opportunity to tell you that you didn’t deserve this.

“You weren’t dating that person. You didn’t have a future with them, a history with them, you had nothing.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Jeremy said, still watching your face for any sign of him being helpful. “And I think you know that.”

You nodded, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I’m not being crazy, right?” you whispered.

“Not even a little bit.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, all of the parts of the evening clicked together in Jeremy’s mind. You had stood without taking too much space, worried about touching other people and what that would mean. It made sense how you crumbled into yourself, the feeling of violation taking over its host. The shower, and more specifically, the time you took in the shower. It was to try and get that dirty feeling off of you, an attempt to feel better, maybe a quick fix. The lack of emotion put into every singular moment was fitting now that he knew the truth. The tension in the room, the lack of comfort, everything fell right into place.

“Thank you,” you spoke up suddenly, a tear running down your cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Jeremy assured. It took all the strength he had to not wipe the tear away and wrap you up in his arms just to hold you for a while.

“I guess I’ve just forgotten what it’s like to kiss someone that I want to, you know? I don’t really remember what consent feels like.”

For the second time that night, Jeremy’s heart broke. To him, what you just said meant that it had been so long since you’d been treated like a human being that you forgot what it was like. You forgot what it was like to be shown decency or love. It was only natural for Jeremy’s next words to be “I hope you do someday.”

“Thank you, Jeremy. For everything. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There was a second of silence, both of you not sure what to say next. It was getting dark exponentially quick, so Jeremy quickly leaned over and turned on his lamp that sat on his night stand. It wasn’t much, but it was better than the darkness that surrounded them before. It was calm again. Jeremy basked in the relaxation for just a few seconds before you spoke up again.

“Why do I feel like I’ll never get that?” You asked to no one in particular. Your voice was still a little shaky, and your eyes didn’t leave the stars.

“What do you mean?”

“Like I don’t know,” but Jeremy knew that you did know exactly what was running through your mind. It was almost like sugarcoating; something to cushion the blow. “It seems like my boyfriend now is the only person who’d even remotely like me. It took years fir him to even get the courage to talk to me again after I turned him down in middle school.”

Jeremy gulped, his palms starting to sweat. He didn’t want to confess, at least not in these circumstances and not until you’d broken up with your boyfriend, but at the same time, his chest screamed for his heart to do something, anything. He didn’t even get to finish his thought before you kept going.

“And, god Jeremy, you hear about those people who get stuck in this cycle of abuse, person after person just worse than the last, because the victim is looking for someone to save them. I feel like I’m gonna be one of those people.”

“You’re not,” Jeremy whispered loud enough for you to hear. “You’re not like those other people.”

“Maybe I am,” another tear slipped down your cheek. “I mean, I didn’t think this would happen. I thought I was smart, but now look at me. I’m dumb, I’m clueless, I’m hopeless. I saw it coming, I knew what was going on, but I pushed it away. I thought I was just being dumb, anxiety acting up again or some bullshit. Jeremy, I did this to myself. I knew I should’ve left the minute he made me uncomfortable with his dependency, but fuck, I didn’t.”

“You’re not dumb,” the sweet boy said, gently running his fingers against your arm. “You’re wonderful. You’re incredibly smart, and you’re nowhere near hopeless. You didn’t let this happen to you, not even a little bit. And if anything, he’s the stupid clueless fuckface who made you feel this way. I know it sounds crazy, but god, he isn’t the only one who is going to like you. You have tons of people that’ll like, hell, love you. They’ll be speechless when you walk into a room and root for you and your happiness. Not the other way around.”

You stopped for a second, taking in every single word. “How do you know that?” you asked, softer than before.

Jeremy went beet red. “Well, I uhh, I just know.”

There was another pause between you two, and god Jeremy hoped he helped. It was all he could give right now, and it was his best. He just hoped that his best was enough.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been talking about myself way too much. What’s going on with you?”

“Oh, uhh, it’s okay. You said you needed to say something, so you did.” He got quiet for a second before muttering out an “I’m glad you did.”

You looked at him finally, your whole face tinged pink. Your eyes remained puffy and glassy, but Jeremy didn’t mind. He thought they were magical anyways. He could see all of you eye’s undertones, from the lights to the shadows and everything in between. He noted the dark swirling black pupil staring back at him, a hint of happiness inside. “How did I get so lucky?” you asked after a little bit.

“Wha--?”

“Jeremy, you are the sweetest person I’ve encountered in my entire high school career. I’m not sure how you do it, but you manage to calm me down and keep me safe for hours on end. I haven’t felt this safe in months,” you smiled your genuine smile, the one that Jeremy missed dearly, at him. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” he stuttered out awkwardly. “I just wanted to keep a…a friend safe.”

You softly chuckled, your hand softly brushing his for just the slightest millisecond. Jeremy could feel his cheeks heat up at the soft contact between you two, causing you to giggle. “You’re cute when you blush.”

That made Jeremy go even redder than he was before. You gave a small laugh in response, gently putting your hand out to meet his. “Do you mind if I scoot closer?” you asked, a smile still painting your features.

The only thing Jeremy could do without sounding like a dork was nod. You did just as you had asked, rolling completely onto your side to face the nervous boy. There was a moment where everything was still, your eyes him with a grace he had only known from daydreams. He shivered a little bit, but it wasn’t from the air conditioning that was being pumped into the room at a regular rate. Jeremy kept the stillness going, contemplating on his next move. He wanted to show that he cared; that you meant the world to him. He wanted to show how important you were, that you mattered, even when you didn’t believe his words. He wanted to show that, fuck it, he loved you. He loved you with his whole heart, mind, and soul. As you laid beside him on his bed, Jeremy could practically feel his impulse control depleting. Maybe that’s why he didn’t stop himself from saying, with the most delicate tone, “Can I kiss you?”

You continued to stare, confusion forming on your face. Damn it, you were going to say no. He should’ve known, you were a good person, and you probably would never cheat on your boyfriend, even if you might be desperate to. But all of those thoughts were lost as a smile formed on your lips, almost crooked it was so big. It reminded Jeremy of when he first started admiring you from afar. “You know what?” you began, finger grazing over his knuckles, “Yeah. Thank you for asking first.”

The two of you leaned in, goofy happiness evident in your features. Your hand moved from Jeremy’s and grazed his cheek. He shivered at your touch, immediately craving more of it. He anticipated it to be something similar to a peck, just a short snippet of what he got before. Instead, he could’ve sworn you’d hired Disney to give him a fireworks show he’d never forget. It was in that moment that Jeremy was so happy his dad was out for the night.

If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t intend to have so much passion. But sometimes, you just had to indulge in the way Jeremy felt against your skin. It’d been forever since you felt some kind of warmth, but with the sweet boy, it felt like the entire world was set aflame. Your hand remained on his cheek, as you just focused on every aspect, taking in every feeling, every emotion, everything you’d been missing out on for almost a year.

Jeremy’s hand snaked its way around your hip, a powerful shot of comfort and purity pulsating through your body. It was like a drug; and you definitely just became addicted. You began to get closer to him, adding a rhythm as soon as you got there. It wasn’t long before Jeremy caught on, his hands promoting the gentle sway you’d set. His fingers ran their way through your hair as your arm wrapped around his torso, almost enveloping you in a sense of security; a sense of home. As cliché as it was, it was a hand that reached out, a lifeline to happiness, hope, success, and so much more. It was like everything you could’ve dreamed of even wanting was just there, keeping you safe inside of his arms.

Your heart started beating faster as your breathing got heavier, the beat to your rhythm now speeding up. Jeremy’s hands held your hips dangerously close to his. He stopped the sway and broke contact, and you almost whined at him stopping, even for just a second to readjust. Luckily, Jeremy could almost read you like a book, and lifted up the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers now rubbing circles onto your bare hips. “Is this okay?” He asked, concern pooling into his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you half stuttered out, still a little disoriented. “Thank you for checking in.”

He nodded, lips coming into contact with your jawline. Jeremy kissed downwards, going from your jawline to your neck. You cursed yourself for being somewhat ticklish as a giggle practically erupted from you. You could feel Jeremy chuckle against your neck, small laughs coming from him as well. He kept going, small vibrations from his laughs making the night almost better that it had been before. Because for the first time, these kisses weren’t about perfection like some bullshit you see in the movies. No, this was about comfort, making sure that everything was exactly how you wanted it to be, making mistakes like giggling perfectly wonderful.

Jeremy continued down your neck, small blushes and smiley gasps leaving you. He went slowly, almost teasingly, but you knew that it was for your own comfort. At some points, you could see the tips of his ears turn red, the soothing circles on your hips becoming a little bit rougher. Your hips were nearly touching at this point, every rough circle bringing them closer and closer. It wasn’t long before his kisses got lower, a little past your neck and just onto your collarbone. He had to manipulate your shirt a little bit to get there, but somehow he’d managed it.

Everything froze. You froze. Jeremy pulled back immediately, allowing your body to turn so your back was against the bed. He just wanted to make sure that you were okay, but he was only met with numb, unblinking eyes now staring up at the ceiling. His hands began to sweat and shake, unsure of what exactly was going on and what exactly he should do next. Fuck, did I do? It was like you had died right there in Jeremy’s arms. It didn’t help that your face had paled and your body had the illusion that you’d stopped breathing. He checked your pulse, making sure it was still there (it was, but at a slower rate than it had been before).

He sprinted out of his room to get you water from the kitchen, hoping that would help in even the slightest way. As soon as he got down the stairs and into the kitchen, Jeremy nearly slipped, his socks slippery against the hardwood. He recovered quickly before grabbing a bright orange plastic cup and filling it with water. His mind raced at the possible things he did wrong, Rich’s rules burning in his mind. The cup was finally filled and Jeremy ran back up the stairs. He entered his room slowly, just in case your state had changed and you needed quiet or something.

You hadn’t moved.

It had been well over 30 seconds to a minute, and yet you were still completely frozen. Your hands were relaxed, but he could still see them tensed into that position. He set his cup down on the dresser, walking towards you to double check your vitals once more before probably calling an ambulance. He sat down beside you, hand gently placing your wrist into his grip.

You shot up with an audible breath, hand immediately resting on your sternum. Your breaths were deep and fast, eyes darting around the room. Jeremy had jumped back, a small yelp escaping him. You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing finally going back to normal.

Jeremy inched closer, concern flashing over his features as he scanned you up and down. “Are you okay?” he asked, craning his neck forward slightly.

“Oh, yeah,” you attempted to play it off as if nothing happened. You inhaled, hands still shaking. “I’m fine, how are you?”

The lanky boy shook his head, running his hands through his hair, “Are you sure? Do you need something?”

“I uhh I’m good.” You looked down at your lap and Jeremy’s blue sweater. “Thank you.” There was a moment of nothing, each of you anticipating what the other would say.

“Is everything okay? You look upset.” you asked, now staring at him curiously. When he looked back, the first thing Jeremy saw was the now prominent bags under your eyes and the slight color that had flushed onto your face. Your hands weren’t keeping still, fidgeting with one another while you waited for his response.

“You uhh,” he started, unsure of exactly how to explain the events that just happened. “You like…I don’t know,” he took a breath, “went numb on me.”

Your eyes immediately broke any contact with him and looked back down at your lap, almost in shame. “Sorry.”

Jeremy’s heart broke again. You knew what had just happened, even if he didn’t. And what was worse is that this has happened before, without someone to help you or anything. He decided to try and keep things light, maybe not bring it up for a while. “I brought you some water,” he spoke softly.

“Thank you.” A pause. “I should go. Thank you so much for tonight, Jeremy, really.” You began to get up to grab your things to go.

“Hold on a second, okay?” Jeremy asked, holding out his hand as a form to stop you without physically touching you. “I don’t want you getting into an accident or something. I think we can agree that that would be the last thing we want right now.” There was a new feeling to the room, not necessarily disgust, but it wasn’t something good. He spoke up again, trying to convince you that staying safe was better than being sorry. “You can stay here for a while and calm down if you want.”

You thought for a minute; Jeremy could practically see the gears turning in your head. The waiting for you to decide was nearly agonizing for him. Out of all of the things that happened tonight, and the new information he’d gotten, Jeremy had now become hyperaware of your boundaries and sense of safety. He was worried that he had done something wrong just merely minutes ago. There was a moment to ask, that was apparent, but this one was not it.

Just as Jeremy was about to open his mouth to apologize for anything that he did to make you uncomfortable, you wiped your eye with his sweater’s sleeve. You looked at him again, almost scanning him up and down before turning your torso towards him. Somehow, Jeremy read your signals and opened his arms, only to have you bolt into them. Hot tears wet Jeremy’s shirt and he wished that he had some more tissues to give you, but the closest ones were across the hall, sitting in the bathroom innocently. He wrapped his arms around you, his hand gliding up and down your back as your sobs subsided. Jeremy leaned his head down to your ear, speaking as softly as he could. “Do you want to lay down again?”

You nodded and Jeremy pressed a kiss to your forehead before breaking the hug so you could lay down. He waited for you to get comfortable again before grabbing the bright orange cup that held your water and handed it over. You took a tentative sip, watching Jeremy carefully. He awkwardly looking around, not used to someone searching him up and down with the look you gave him. His eyes landed on his laptop and an idea popped into his head. “Do you maybe want to watch something on Netflix for a little bit?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you,” you mumbled. It was Jeremy’s turn to nod as he grabbed his laptop. He stood facing you, but his screen facing away from you as he opened the mac book pro. Logging in wasn’t the problem, it was the browser window that just happened to still be up. He exited it quickly and then searching for the Netflix app. The app opened with one quick keystroke, and the caring boy handed you his laptop.

“You can pick what we watch,” Jeremy smiled sheepishly.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. I don’t want to pick something that like, you don’t want to watch.”

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Jeremy was slowly plotting exactly how he was going to get revenge on your boyfriend, a court order possibly included. You weren’t even secure enough to pick something to watch, even if he literally just said he didn’t care whatever it was. He inferenced that your boyfriend said what he just did often (fuck, how did he manage to mimic him?! That was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do), and then would hurt you because you made the wrong choice. It was probably over text, similar to all of the other verbal and emotional abuse you’d received.

But he pushed those thoughts aside, deciding that focusing on you would be the most productive at this moment in time. Especially since you were side eyeing his Netflix account, preciously sipping your water. Damn it, how did you always manage to be so attractive; so aesthetically pleasing? He stepped forward, getting settled into his bed himself as he spoke. “We can watch anything, okay? My number one priority right now is keeping you safe, calm, and happy. And if you want to watch Disney, a TV show you like, hell even some romantic comedy or 90s teen movie like Clueless, I’d be perfectly okay with it.”

“No, Jeremy, I really…I’m intruding already and I just…”

He looked at you, concern filling in his eyes. It didn’t matter what your choice was to him. All that mattered was you, your happiness, your safety, and your overall well-being. If your choice was some ridiculous thing he’d never heard of, he’d watch it. Because tonight wasn’t about him. He knew it wasn’t about him from the minute you walked into his front door and Michael ha left for the night. This was totally, completely, 100% about you.

And if this was about you, he didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t comfortable with, even if the task was as simple as picking something that you wanted to watch. As much as it made his blood boil, Jeremy knew he wasn’t going to win this fight. He had to use a tactic of some kind, something to make you more comfortable with making a choice. Then the idea hit him like fall damage in any Zelda game. “You’re not intruding, okay? It’s totally fine that you’re here, and you actually made my night a lot better. I mean, I like Michael, but we always do the same things. It’s nice to get some variety, you know?”

You didn’t respond to him, eyes still fixated on the laptop screen.

“How about this?” he touched your arm gently, causing you to look over at him, “I pick three things I’d be okay with watching. You can veto all of them or pick one of them. If you veto, I’ll pick another three.” Jeremy didn’t just pull this out of his ass of course. It was a tactic Michael had used with him after the SQUIP-incident. He could remember not wanting to make his best friend even more upset by choosing the wrong thing, or worse, feeling a phantom shock.

You nodded at his idea, a small smile forming on your lips. He could see on your face that you knew that he understood your circumstances. Jeremy mirrored your smile before listing three possible things to watch. Suddenly, your choice was easy to make. The title rattled off of your tongue as Jeremy searched it up.

The laptop was situated between yours and Jeremy’s legs, acting almost like a barrier. That barrier broke about half an hour into the program. Your empty water cup rested against your thigh as Jeremy felt a weight on his chest, almost too engrossed in the laptop to notice.

He looked down and saw you asleep against his chest, blue sweater sleeve pulled down just enough to give you sweater paws. Your head and right arm rested against his chest, the light from the lamp causing a warm glow to enclose the room. He kissed the top of your head before pausing the media and putting his laptop next to the bed on the floor, careful not to wake you. The bedside lamp would be trickier, but he somehow managed it before resting his head against his pillow, his right arm wrapping around the small of your back.

Jeremy smiled to himself before closing his eyes for the night, so happy, so delirious that he’d managed to keep you safe and sound for a second night.

#Jeremy Heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #bmc x reader #bmc imagine #be more chill imagine #be more chill x reader

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storytaeme · 6 years

Text

slice of life – vmin

Slowly, Taehyung learned from Jimin that he was the rule, not the exception.

vmin week 2017 – taehyung x jimin

❧ Elements: Fluff, Angst | He’s Just Not That Into You AU

❧ Word Count: 7,626 words

❧ A/N: I watched this again recently so I really wanted to write an AU for this. There are jumps in the timeline and lots of referencing from the movie. Changed a lot of the things I didn’t agree with from the movie too :D

Taehyung believed in love. True Love™️ with a capital TL. The consequence of growing up with younger sisters who insisted he played princess and prince with them was this irrational idealistic fantasy of finding The One (also with capital TO).

It was this dream that he cling onto ever since he knew he could date anyone he wanted—boys or girls, he never cared much for it. Taehyung has his first kiss with a girl from his class whose tongue was too wet, and his first handjob from a guy who tutored him math his junior year. It was all good times and sunshine. He had lost his ass-girnity freshman year of college and dick-girnity that same night when the guy insisted they switched.

However, the one night stand game got old too fast, too soon. All his childhood aspirations came crawling back to drag him down with them. He couldn’t stop picturing this dramatic, whirlwind romance, that he would be swept off his feet by a man or woman and taken away to paradise. He wanted passion and compassion, emotion flying from one end of the spectrum to another. He wanted burning desire like molten lava sliding off his skin. It was a lot to ask, but his mother always told him to never want anything less than he deserved.

He thought he deserved a lot—or at least, a romance good enough for the novels. Taehyung had standards to live up to after all. However, he would soon come to realize that all of it was a major case of Bullshit with a huge, massive, capital B glowing in neon red. The world commercialized love and relationships, made you think that you would be getting that advertisement-perfect romance as you sipped champagne with your lover by the beach in the Maldives. It made you believe that everyone who treated you like shit only behaved that way because “oh, honey, it’s because they like you.”

Way to fuck up his entire understanding of what being in love with someone actually meant. Taehyung was on the constant cycle of reusing the same lines, the same scripts, and the same results—zilch. Zero. Nada. His friends would tell him that it was always the other guy who was probably busy, or that he couldn’t handle his intelligent ass. But no—what those movies and stories, and even your friends and family, failed to tell you at times was the one thing that was plain to see and was constantly ignored.

He’s just not that into you.

Still, he clung onto that hurricane-like love story ideal. This was perhaps his hamartia, his fatal flaw. Taehyung thought he would find salvation to it in Park Jimin and the story began with a nonexistent call.

the fall

Taehyung nibbled on his teeth nervously and eyed his cell phone for the hundredth time that night. The air was thick with silence, he could practically hear his heart beat in his ears, blood rushing in his veins almost angrily as he impatiently waited.

The waiting was always the worst part. When you had a good date and had dropped your number with said date, their promising you that they would give you a ring, all you could really do was wait afterwards. Taehyung had not gotten Hoseok’s number either, choosing to let the man make the first move like he promised. Hoseok seemed pretty interested last night, engaging him in light conversation that had the two of them giggling and laughing. Even when the waiter came around to ask if they were done, Hoseok had ordered them another round of drinks to enjoy.

So why the hell hasn’t he called?

This was always a problem, he supposed. Whenever he thought things were going somewhere, that he had found a potential for The One, that person just… never came back. And Taehyung was left high and dry, forcing himself to move on and begin something else with someone new.

“Jesus, hyung,” Jeongguk muttered across from him. He had invited the younger out for coffee to distract himself. Being at home waiting for the call had driven him close to the brink of insanity and obsession. “Was he that good?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I guess,” Taehyung shrugged, chancing another glance at his phone that never lit up with a notification. “He was pretty cool, he seemed interested.”

Jeongguk smirked, cupping his fingers and bringing it to his lips, tongue pressing into the insides of his cheek. “Why? Did you, you know, offer to—” he made the sucking motion.

Teahyung crinkled his nose and flung a cookie in the boy’s direction. “You’re such a male.”

“Newsflash, you are too.”

“You’re the ultimate testosterone competition machine.”

“And you’re distracting from the original question,” he noted.

He hated how observant Jeongguk was. “Okay, it was average at best. He was a good guy, seemed chill.”

“And this gave you the TO vibes?” Jeongguk raised an eyebrow, sipping his americano. They had gotten around to using TO for short because Taehyung was still on that insistent journey to find that one special person.

“You never know, there was a little spark there, might blow up,” Taehyung shrugged. He was grasping at strings, he knew. Hoseok had been nice, sure. He could imagine a few different ways their story could go, but none of them was going to happen if the man didn’t call.

Jeongguk snorted cynically. Unbeliever. “Alright, sure. Whatever floats your boat. Do you have any way of contacting him yourself? It wouldn’t be so bad to take initiative.”

“No, but he did say he went to Bar 95 every Wednesday night and today is—would you look at that—Wednesday.”

The younger eyed him suspiciously, “You planned this already, didn’t you?”

“It’s been three days, Guk, I’m dying here.”

“I don’t know,” he pursed his lips hesitantly, looking up to meet Taehyung’s eyes, “doesn’t that seem stalkerish?”

Taehyung let out a pitiful whine before letting his head fall against the table. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be sort of like a coincidence—fate.”

“Fate,” Jeongguk scoffed, “are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Jeongguk,” Taehyung moaned.

It was clear that the younger took pity on him because he only sighed and nodded. “Fate, sure. Be careful, yeah? And—” he took a deep breath “—try not to expect too much, alright?”

Sure, Taehyung most definitely wasn’t expecting much. It was a little weird but he really did just pop by the bar. It wasn’t as if he was actively—okay, so he was actively looking for Hoseok but he wasn’t following him around. Fuck, he really was trying to convince himself more than anything.

This was a bad, bad idea. Taehyung mentally chided himself as he made his way to the bar, ordering a very strong drink from whoever was serving at the bar. “You here for a table?” one of the staff members asked. Shorter guy, nice dress shirt. A real looker. Bet he got calls back from his dates.

“Nah, just… waiting for someone,” Taehyung cleared his throat, sipping his drink and hoping that was enough of an answer.

“Oh, reservation? Hot date?” the guy grinned this time, his eyes crinkling in the corners and his thick lips curling up.

Taehyung coughed again, wondering what he could say to get out of this hole this time. He chuckled awkwardly, “Uh, not really, I’m… waiting for someone.”

He was an idiot.

The guy paused, “Are you okay?”

“It’s stupid,” Taehyung laughed a little, voice strained.

He stared at him again, pausing before raising his finger. “Let me finish off with the rest of the customers and I’ll—I’ll get back to you. Sound good?” Taehyung wasn’t sure what to do so he only quietly nodded.

The guy—whatever his name was—drifted behind the bar, mixing up drinks and sweet talking customers. He had charm for sure. Taehyung admired that. For a while, he thought he did too, but he finally came to a conclusion that he had the appeal of a damned cod considering his success rate thus far.

After an hour or so, the guy finally returned, this time rolling up his sleeves and putting himself before Taehyung. “So, love problems I’m assuming? Needed a lone night out?” he chuckled, taking a sip out of his own glass. “I’m Jimin, by the way, the manager here and a concerned citizen.”

“Uh, Taehyung. Just… a citizen.”

Jimin laughed, “You’re kind of cute, I like you. So what brings you around here?”

He licked his lips, looking up to the ceiling for a second. “It’s kind of dumb, I just—I don’t know what I was expecting but Hoseok said that he came here every Wednesday so I figured I would catch him.”

“Wait like Jung Hoseok? Dancer, so high, laughs a lot?” Jimin questioned, brows knitting. “I don’t think he’s coming around today. Did he forget or—”

“No, no, it’s just I came here—and I wanted to—” shit, reach, Taehyung, reach. “I wanted to return his pen.”

“His pen,” Jimin cocked an eyebrow, his stance relaxing as he shifted his hips a little. The story was getting messy and Taehyung was well aware of that.

Taehyung pulled out the thing from his pocket and handed it over. “Right, yeah, his pen. I wasn’t sure if he needed it you know. In case anything.” He fidgeted with his fingers and darted his gaze away.

Jimin took it and stared at it for quite some time before twirling it between his fingers, looking at Taehyung expectantly. “So are you going to tell me your real story so I can help or are you going to keep pulling stuff out of your ass?”

“That’s really no way to talk to a customer,” he scoffed.

The guy only laughed, clearly not giving a flying fuck. “Listen, dude, I’m here to offer sage advice should you so need, but if you want me to stay out of your business then I can do that too. Just saying that Hoseok’s a pretty close friend of mine so I can give you some tips—first one being don’t.”

Taehyung’s heart plummeted so hard he could almost hear the sound. “Why not?”

“Guy is still hung up on his almost-boyfriend,” Jimin cleared his throat, “he’s a good guy and this almost-boyfriend is stringing him around by his balls. You have no chance as of now.”

Well, that was that. He slumped against the counter, dejected. “I mean, you never know right. He asked for my number and now I’m just waiting on a call.”

“Taehyung, listen to me,” Jimin started, propping his elbows up on the counter, “what I’m gonna say is going to hurt but it’s going to be the truth. If a guy is interested, he will call you. If he doesn’t then, well, you know.”

This guy was meddling. Taehyung should be pissed but instead he’s wallowing in the guy’s words. “But the signals were all there!”

“My dude,” he chuckled, “let me tell you. I know the signals and they weren’t there. Not if he isn’t calling.”

“You’re pretty harsh, you know, to a stranger,” Taehyung mumbled under his breath, downing the rest of his drink.

“I tell it like it is, my friend,” Jimin smiled again, patting the back of his hand. “Tell you what,” he paused, pulling out a piece of card and scribbling numbers onto the back, “hit me up if you ever need advice. I can have some pretty handy ones to offer.”

Taehyung scrunched up his nose in distaste as he plucked the card from his hands. “Thanks, I guess. It’s been enlightening. You gave me a whole feast for thought.”

“Alright, I have to get back to work, but hey—remember what I said, and good luck.”

That had been the first time he encountered Park Jimin. He didn’t think much of it, figured it was just one of Hoseok’s asshole friends who liked to butt in. He had kept the name card, wasn’t sure why, but he did.

However, what unnerved him more was the fact that he leapt out of a guy’s arms while making out with him to hide in the bathroom, his fingers punching in the numbers of the man he had only met once before. He had talked to Jimin before, called him on several occasions in which he needed as he said, his sage advice. Jimin gave good insight on how to avoid the creeps and the bail-outs. Though it limited most of its chances with other people, he was at least more careful about the way he went about the whole dating thing.

“Taehyung,” Jimin greeted, “what’s the verdict?” Taehyung wasn’t sure but he heard him say “babe, I’ll be right back” to whoever he was with.

“Fantastic kisser, but he said he’s going to be out of town next weekend and will be out of reach.”

Jimin scoffed from the other hand of the line. “What? He’s going on a research trip to the North Pole or something? Who goes out of reach nowadays?”

Okay, that argument made sense. “You’re right, dammit.” This was the worst. Sometimes, Jimin would deem the guy acceptable and say that he was probably interested, only to turn around on the second date when the guy insisted on hooking up. “Also, shit, did I disturb you? Sorry, should’ve texted first.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Jimin chuckled, “anything else?”

“Nope, just that for now. Thanks, Jiminie,” Taehyung huffed.

“Anytime, Taetae.”

The two had formed some sort of friendship, he supposed. A bond. Taehyung trusted Jimin because his instincts and advice, although rough, was a good call most of the time. He would pop by Bar 95 from time to time to chat with him in person and have Jimin guide him on picking up people. The manager was pretty good at selecting people he knew Taehyung would like.

“You’re an open book,” Jimin pointed out once.

“Really?” he nibbled on a carrot stick his friend had brought over. While the bar was bustling outside, the two hid away in the comfort of Jimin’s private office and chatted away.

He laughed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Honey, you wear your heart on your sleeve, provide it on your palm to the rest of the world.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No, no, I think it’s cute,” Jimin grinned, circling the rim of his glass with his finger. “You’re sweet, makes you vulnerable and that appeals a lot.”

Taehyung gave him a look, “To the creeps.”

“Not just the creeps!” he quickly interrupted, clicking his tongue, “I like it when people are direct too, makes it easier than having to guess their intentions as fun as that is.”

Jimin was still as blunt as ever but they grew closer over time as they talked about past lovers and failed relationships, Jimin questioning how Taehyung could still romanticize True Love so much when the system was created to promote failure. “It’s not always about the success,” Taehyung had murmured quietly once, “sometimes it’s also the feelings and the thrill of it, those in the present moments that you want to grasp onto tightly.”

The other boy had softened with his words, nodding understandingly. “I get what you mean, I suppose there is some good in that too. I just don’t believe in investing my time in relationships that were never meant to work in the first place.”

“You’re a bit of a cynic, aren’t you?”

Jimin snorted, “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Don’t you ever like it though? The butterflies in your stomach and the spark—”

His laugh cut Taehyung off as he tinkled adorably. In any other situation, Taehyung would’ve been offended but he was curious as to how Jimin would shut him down this time. “Holy shit, Hollywood really has done its number on us. They always talk about the spark, this nonexistent thing that makes you think that there’s something to hold onto. But when the other party figures out that they don’t want this anymore, they can just say that the spark has fizzled out. The spark, my friend, is a myth and you guys eat it right up.”

“Okay, but this one guy I know who talked about the spark from the beginning, said that it didn’t work out with this person he was going out with,” Taehyung narrated, and Jimin looked victorious until he continued, “but then they found each other again years later, spark was still there and it was enough to have them marrying each other. Now they’re happily married for twenty years. What do you think of that?”

Jimin took a deep breath, clapping his hands together and pointing it in Taehyung’s direction. “See, the problem with that story is that that guy is the exception, not the rule.” The other boy tilted his head, not following. “He’s one amongst many that had things actually work out his way. But the rule is that it just doesn’t exist as you can see from the majority.”

“So, what you’re saying is that my belief in the spark makes me part of the rule and not the exception?” Taehyung frowned, the idea leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It was kind of disheartening to know that there was only a one in a million chance of becoming an exception in the midst of all the rules. Jimin shrugged, indicating that was pretty much what he meant. “It’s cute though, I like the concept of the spark,” Taehyung pouted defiantly.

“So do the assholes who can take advantage of it,” Jimin shook his head, “it’s too easy to use the spark to reason.”

Taehyung sighed, propping his chin up on his palm. “Well, I just wish I can find someone who believes in the spark as much as I do. It’ll be lovely.”

“Oh, speaking of which,” he snapped his fingers, “I might know a guy. Namjoon. Great guy, super sweet, and I think you’d be each other’s types.” So Jimin had arranged a blind date for the two of them set in Bar 95. It was supposed to be casual and so Jimin would be there to mediate the atmosphere for as long as necessary. Taehyung had been anticipating it because he really did trust Jimin’s judgment, especially when it came to guys.

Thus, when the big day came, Taehyung had spent the entirety of his evening selecting an outfit to wear. He kept jumping whenever the door opened and when Jimin finally walked in, his heart was beating too loud against his chest. The man greeted Taehyung before hailing down a waiter and Taehyung ordering his own drink. “So, where is he?”

“He’s not coming.”

Taehyung’s face fell. “He hasn’t even met me, how does he not like me already?”

“It was my bad,” Jimin winced, “I told him the wrong day so he couldn’t make it out of work.” Well, that was a relief to hear at least. He thought his lack of appeal had reached new heights and extended to this extreme. “But I’m here, we can still have a good time. Drinks on me!”

Things were going well with him and Taehyung was busy enough with work that he avoided thinking about his love life altogether. It was a good, productive distraction, but he was beginning to miss it when he received a call from Jimin.

“Hey, are you free this Friday?”

He trapped the phone between his ear and shoulder as he finished up the last of the documents his boss had requested. “Uh, yeah, why?”

“I’m having a small party, like a holiday thing, you know. You should come, it’ll be fun. I’ll be around hosting so I can keep you company, introduce you to my friends,” Jimin said and Taehyung could hear clanging in the background. He was probably at work too.

“Party? Yeah, sure, sounds great.”

“Great, looking forward to seeing you there.”

It was when he returned home that night that it all clicked. Holy shit.

Park Jimin was in love with him.

the rule

“He likes me,” Taehyung concluded to Jeongguk one day. The kid was chipping away at his keyboard to work on a computer science assignment he had due the following day. Taehyung placed a steaming cup of coffee on the table.

Jeongguk raised an eyebrow, hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot. “Who?”

“Jimin.”

He paused, looking at Taehyung dead in the eyes. “Who?”

“Jimin, Hoseok’s friend. The manager at the bar. I’ve been talking to him a lot lately and I think—I think he likes me,” Taehyung affirmed.

The younger let out a sigh, pushing away his laptop and looking at his friend almost pitifully. Taehyung hated that look but knew that it was warranted considering how many times he had been in the exact same situation. A doom loop. “What makes you think so?” There was no bite in his words, yet Taehyung could feel his skepticism all the same.

“The signs were all there, Guk,”

Jeongguk licked his lips, leaning back against his seat and squinting at his best friend, wondering what he was playing at this time. Taehyung basically told Jeongguk about every bit of his love life and, although he was aware that Jimin existed, he never knew the extent of their involvement—that Jimin was basically his love guru. “What were the signs, hyung?”

“Okay, like, listen—the first thing that hit me was this whole avoiding jerks advice he’s been giving me. It’s good advice yeah, but he basically keeps foiling chances I have with other guys by telling me it would be a shit experience for me.”

“Sounds like a good man looking out for you, but go on.”

Taehyung grinned, cheshire cat-like. “That’s not all. One time, he’s with this other person, lover I’m assuming, but he still picks up my call. He knew it was me too because God bless caller ID, right?”

“Wait, how do you know this is someone he’s hooking up with?”

“Called them babe.”

Jeongguk did a look that said that that made sense.

“Then he plays nice guy, says he wants to introduce me to this ‘Namjoon’ character, supposedly his friend. D-day arrives and he says that he had told the guy the wrong date so it was basically just the two of us.”

“Oh whoa, okay. I mean, if he really did fuck up the days then that would be understandable. Also makes sense if he would do it on purpose since—what the fuck—really, who messes up dates like that?”

“I know,” he giggled, excitement bubbling up his stomach. “I can see it all now. But what really tops this is that he’s inviting me to a small gathering this Friday. He says that he wants to introduce me to his friends.”

Jeongguk let out a whistle, smirking, “Damn, he’s already pulling the unofficial in-laws card. I’m impressed.”

“Right!” Taehyung laughed, slapping his knee. “He said he’s going to keep me company too so that’s that.”

“Shit,” Jeongguk muttered, “it might actually be real. I mean, it’s sort of vague, but I can see how that would all link up to come to your conclusion.”

“Precisely, it’s elementary, Jeon.”

The younger rolled his eyes but his lips were twitching in amusement. “Alright, Kim, calm down. Let’s not get your dick up that fast just yet. You still have that party to go to and to charm what’s left of this guy’s pants off of him.”

“Yeah, shit, I’m so excited. I mean, he’s a great guy you know, looks out for me,” Taehyung said softly. His heart really had been flipping all over the place ever since his epiphany and he could only hope that this would be it—the big True Love, The One moment he had been waiting for.

“I’m happy for you, hyung,” Jeongguk whispered earnestly, “you deserve only the best and I hope it works out with him.”

“I hope so too, Guk.”

By the time Friday rolled around, Taehyung was attempting to calm his jitters. He was driving to Jimin’s place, blasting pop music singing about love and happiness out loud. It was going to be a good night, he could just feel it. The party was already in full swing when he arrived, guests littering the place when Jimin opened the door.

“You made it!” he beamed, pulling him in. Taehyung could smell the beer in his breath and figured he had gotten a head start.

“‘Course I did, did you expect me to bail?”

Jimin scoffed, “Of course not, was just worried you were gonna get lost. Come on, I’ll get you a drink then introduce you to people.”

The first hour, Taehyung spent it by Jimin’s side as he took him around to meet people, most of them his colleagues and friends. He had never seen the man so entirely in his element and it was good to know that he was comfortable with this crowd. However, when he was pulled away to tend to his other guests, Taehyung lurked awkwardly by the side, munching on snacks and trying to maintain conversation with a few people he had met.

Throughout the night, he could only shoot glances at Jimin, hoping that it would communicate his need to be around him. But Jimin was busy and he had to be understanding of that. When Jimin was already swaying and giggling around the room, asking Taehyung to help him refill the bowls of food, the least he could do was help, and so he did. He was playing half-host at that point to ensure that the guests got everything they needed. Jimin looked happy though, and that was what mattered.

When the last of the people trickled out sometime after 3AM, Taehyung figured that this was his chance. He had been cleaning up the mess and gathering the trash despite Jimin’s moans of protests that he didn’t need to do all that. “Thanks, Taetae, I can always count on you.”

“No problem, Jiminie,” Taehyung coughed, unable to hide his smile as he plopped down next to Jimin on the couch.

“It’s late, I should be getting to bed,” Jimin huffed, but making no move whatsoever.

This was it. This was his opening. He scooted closer and stroked Jimin’s hair, knowing that he liked that being done to him. Jimin purred happily and keeled into the touch. Taehyung—Taehyung leaned forward to capture his lips. God, it felt so soft and so nice. There was an initial tinge of bitterness from the beer, but it quickly faded as Taehyung moved his lips against Jimin’s.

When he pulled away to chance a glance at Jimin, the man was looking at him incredulously. “Uh, what was that?”

“That was a kiss, silly,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Let me change the question, why did you do that?”

That stopped him. Taehyung blinked at him, his big hands still on Jimin’s smaller shoulders. “Um, I thought since you liked me that—”

“Whoa,” he held up his hand, jumping away from Taehyung and onto his feet. The distance caused a pang in Taehyung’s heart. “Since I liked you? Why was I not made aware of this?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Taehyung, where did you even get that idea?”

Taehyung opened his mouth, frowning, “It was there, Jimin. It was just so… obvious and I wanted to let you know tonight that it was cool and that I wanted this too. I’m—” he broke off, unsure of how to proceed.

“How—” Jimin squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose “—how did you even get there? I’m really not following right now. I really do not understand how you came to that conclusion.”

He licked his lips, feeling the anxiety settle in his stomach. He fiddled with his fingers as he tried to explain it best he could. “Your actions, Jimin, it just showed. I could tell from the way you behaved with me.”

“What? How—I don’t understand how you even got there. I treat you the same way I treat everybody else. What is it with you and twisting all this shit in your head? Christ, this—we had something good going, Tae. We were tight, but now you do this—Jesus. I don’t even know where you got this idea from.”

“I just—you know, I thought that,” Taehyung stuttered, heart clenching, “there were signs, Jimin.” His voice came out weak, quiet. He hated it.

Jimin’s eyes widened as he threw his hands into the air, “Signs? What the fuck, Taehyung? What signs?”

“Just you know, with the whole dating thing, the fake guy, and this party—I figured that was your way of—”

A curse slipped past the other man’s lips, halting Taehyung’s words. His chest suddenly felt heavy and his heart lodged in his throat as Jimin raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Signs, signs, signs. What have we been talking about for months, Taehyung? If a guy is interested, then they’ll let you know. If not then they just won’t. I don’t know what shit you’re on that you’re mixing all of this weird shit in your head.”

“That’s mean,” Taehyung spoke, lips quivering and he could only hope his voice wasn’t the same. “I know I jumped to conclusions, but you don’t have to put it that way.”

“I don’t know what else I can do, Tae,” Jimin huffed, exasperated, “I never showed any of these ‘signs’ or whatever and you still make it up in your head, isn’t this clear enough for you? This isn’t a sign, Taehyung, this is me telling you that you made it all up. God, I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming. You’re always—goddamn—running around telling me about this fantasy bullshit that just doesn’t happen. I should’ve known.”

Now, Taehyung had a lot of patience and a lot of compassion. But there was a line to be drawn as to how far you could push him. This—this was his breaking point. He swallowed thickly and jabbed his finger accusingly in Jimin’s direction. “I may make assumptions, but at least I’m not a cold asshole like you.”

Jimin squinted at him, “What?”

“You—you’re just a coward! You’re scared of things never working out so you stop them before they even happen. You think everything is black and white, that everyone can show and figure out their feelings with a snap of their fingers, but newsflash, Jimin, life doesn’t work that way. Love is complicated, feelings are complicated,” Taehyung snapped at him, moving to collect his jacket and purse. “And if I’m fucked up for thinking that way then so be it. At least I give my 110% into what I want instead of cutting off my efforts halfway through just because I think it’s impossible. I may twist things, but I’m a hell of a lot closer to finding love than you are. So you can shove your advice up your fuckin’ ass, Park Jimin.”

With that last word said, Taehyung stormed out of the house. It hurt, it hurt so much. Taehyung had experienced heartbreak before, had recovered from it, and he knew he would from this too. The worst thing about this entire thing was the fact that he would be losing one of his best friends along with it.

Maybe Jimin was right, maybe love just never worked out the way you wanted it to. That was always the rule.

—

jimin’s pov

His phone had been silent the whole day. No matter how many times he’s checked, there were no new texts. The meeting earlier had been a mess, he had screwed up everyone’s schedules, directed them all differently, and realized that there wasn’t even supposed to be a meeting that day at all.

He really was going mad. Maybe he needed another night out to unwind. He’s been particularly stressed these days, always worrying, always fussing. It was driving even his employees insane.

“Taemin,” he called. Taemin greeted guests when they came in. They might’ve also hooked up once. Jimin never went back for seconds. “Any new messages for me?”

“Not since the last time you checked which was—” he glanced at his clock dramatically for effect “—two minutes ago.”

Jimin sighed, bringing up his phone again and refreshing his chats and emails, waiting to see if anything new would pop up. Maybe it was his Internet, maybe that’s why it wasn’t refreshing. “Has the wifi been working fine?”

“I’m downloading Eminem’s new album with no problem whatsoever.”

“Right, right,” Jimin frowned, looking back down at his phone.

Taemin snorted, “What’s gotten you so wound up?”

Jimin scoffed a laugh, “Wound up? I’m not wound up, just making sure that I’m not missing anything important.”

The man eyed him curiously for a second before a lightbulb switched on in his brain. “Oh my God,” he laughed, the sound almost wicked that his boss turned to face him, “it’s finally happened, hasn’t it? Who is it?”

“What?”

“Come on,” Taemin smirked, “you can’t hide it from me. Who’s the lucky guy who’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

“Nobody has—I’m not waring panties either, shut the fuck up,” Jimin growled, deciding that he really didn’t need to deal with this type of abuse as he stalked towards his office.

However, Taemin was hot on his tail, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “You’re checking your phone, constantly asking about messages,” Taemin smirked, “you’ve got it bad.”

“I don’t—” Jimin paused “—shit. I do have it bad.”

“Join the club, asshole,” Taemin laughed, waving his fingers on his way out the door, “I’ll give you some privacy to deal with your existential crisis.”

the exception happy ending (?)

Throwing himself into work and swearing off relationships and love forever seemed to work well for the first two weeks. Work was great and he was making great progress. He channeled all of his anger and stress into his work that his boss was impressed by how much he did in the office, much to the disappointment of his coworkers.

Boycotting love was another story though. It was hard and he wallowed in his self-pity by drowning himself in enough shitty romantic movies and tubs of ice cream to have Jeongguk calling him gross. When Jeongguk called him gross, you knew you had it bad.

It wasn’t until a few days later that he received a call. “Hello?”

“Taehyung? Kim Taehyung?”

The voice was velvety, smooth, yet unfamiliar. It had a soothing aspect to it though. “Um, yes.”

“I’m Namjoon, I think Jimin mentioned me last time?”

Holy fuck. He really was an idiot. Not only had he messed up the signals, he had made one of them up too. “R-right, yeah, he did. It’s nice to finally hear from you.”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s been a hectic month but I finally have some time off. Would you care to join me for dinner?”

He was asking whether Taehyung—the die-hard romantic and advocate for True Love—wanted to join who Jimin described to be as dashing and intelligent if he wanted to have dinner. It was a yes in an instant, his resolve dissolving.

Namjoon was entertaining and he had a lot to say about art pieces that Taehyung liked as well. They clicked. They really did. Namjoon was kind and patient, he was sweet all throughout their conversation. He had even promised Taehyung that he would give him a call as soon as he got home and Taehyung took it without much hope. Not like it hadn’t happened before. However, before he even reached his own house, Namjoon had already dropped a voicemail.

“It was really great to see you today, Taehyung. This is Namjoon and I hope that you’ll grant me the opportunity to see you again sometime,” Namjoon’s voice filled his ears. It had his body tingling with warmth, but there was a dull numbing in his heart that prevented him from fully appreciating the gesture.

He dug around for his keys inside his pockets as he made his way up the steps to his apartment. Jeongguk was lounging on the couch, and whistled when he saw Taehyung. He had selected his favorite outfit after all, a sweet, silky blouse that accentuated his figure and pants tight enough to squeeze the living daylights out of someone like Jeongguk who had thighs the size of trunks. “You look good, my dude,” Jeongguk laughed.

“It was a good date, he called too.”

“Shit,” Jeongguk nodded approvingly, “sounds like a keeper already. Does he have a brother? Sister? I’ll take both if he lets me.”

Taehyung flung a pillow his way, “You’re goddamn gross.”

“And he sure is a lot better than—” Jeongguk stopped, curling his lips sourly in disgust before the name of he-who-must-not-be-named fell from his lips. His roommate had been on the receiving end of Taehyung’s tears for the first few days after the rejection. Jeongguk had officially deemed Jimin an irredeemable asshole and pledged to kick his ass with his spiked boots if he ever saw him. Taehyung told him no despite the giddiness inside of him that told him to fuck all. “Anyway, glad you’re having a great night.” The doorbell rang up front and Jeongguk beamed. “Hey, since you’re up, can you get that? It’s probably my pizza.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes but did anyway, swinging the door open only to be taken aback by the sight of Jimin there. Taehyung’s lips parted. All the feelings he had tamped down came rushing back and he hated himself for it, hated how weak he still was for Jimin. “Hey,” Jimin started, shifting around almost nervously.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Taehyung,” Jimin whispered, gaze looking pained. Taehyung had some sick satisfaction seeing it. He deserved it. “Listen, I—”

“No, you listen. I said what I said and I don’t need to hear some half-assed apology to make your ego feel better or whatever. I think you should go.”

Jimin blocked the door from closing and Taehyung sighed in exasperation. “I’m—it’s not for a half-assed apology.”

Jeongguk’s voice carried down the hall. “Taehyung, who’s at the door?”

For a second, a flicker of hesitation appeared across his eyes. “You need to leave,” he hissed at Jimin but it was too late because Jeongguk was already making his way up to the entrance hall. When he caught Jimin there and Taehyung’s face flushed with anger, Taehyung could practically hear his blood boil.

“You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve showing your face here,” Jeongguk barreled down the hallway and Taehyung had to hold him back.

“Guk, stop. It’s fine. I can deal with this okay.”

Jeongguk sneered at Jimin, “The fuck are you even doing here? Taehyung’s not gonna listen to your bullshit so why don’t you just go?”

“Jeongguk,” Taehyung pressed again, “stop it. I can take care of this, I promise.” Jeongguk gritted his teeth, pinching his lips unhappily. “Please,” he begged again.

The younger finally relented, shrugging off Taehyung’s touch to toss one last glare at Jimin and jabbed two of his fingers towards his eyes then at Jimin. “I’m watching you. You pull any shit, I’ll kick you myself. Tae, holler if you need anything. I’ll be in my room with my fuckin’ bat ready.”

Taehyung saw Jimin’s throat moved and he wanted to grin. “Okay, Gukkie, thank you.” With that, Jeongguk moved back down the hallway and Taehyung heard the resounding shutting of his bedroom door. “Now, what do you want? I’m tired.”

“I’m here because I—uh—wanted to go… give you back your pen.”

“My pen,” Taehyung echoed, crossing his arms over his chest. The man fumbled with his pocket and pulled out the stick, handing it over. Taehyung accepted it and raised an eyebrow, “Is that all then?”

“N-no, I—” Jimin choked a little, coughing “—I wanted to say I am sorry, for what I said. It was uncalled for and I just—you’re right, I can be insensitive and blunt and I’m an asshole.” Taehyung snorted at that. “I know, I know. But I—you’re right. I guess I was scared of things going to shit that my first instinct is t block it out. I don’t think you’re lame or pathetic. You’re very honest with your feelings and I think that takes a lot of courage.”

No, no, this wasn’t happening. Taehyung blinked back the tears as Jimin took a step forward. He was frozen to his spot, unable to move.

“And I—God, I love that. I love that you embrace love that you love love. It’s—it’s incredible, you know. I should’ve known better, you’ve always been the smarter one out of the two of us,” he chuckled, tugging on the collar of his shirt, a nervous tic Taehyung knew he had. “And, if—if you’re willing to give me one more chance, I can do that. I want to give you the romance and love you deserve because you deserve every bit of it, every drop of it. I want to give you that happiness you wanted.”

“Jimin,” Taehyung breathed, voice trembling, “I don’t—I just don’t think we have that chance anymore.” Jimin’s expression fell into one of fear and surprise. “Look, I went out with Namjoon earlier. He—he was sweet and smart, he called me right after to tell me he wanted to take me out again. You’re right, he is a good guy. I think he would be the type to bring me flowers and be kind to me. He’s safe and good.”

Jimin moved forward again, his actions more frantic. “I can do that, I can. I can bring you flowers and take you out on dates, I’ll call you everyday if you want.” Fuck, no, he couldn’t be doing this to him. “I’ll take you to your favorite galleries, I want to listen to you talk about them all day.”

“You really don’t,” Taehyung whispered, “look, Jimin, this is probably the guilt talking. So this is me telling you that it’s fine, I’ve moved on and—”

“Don’t,” Jimin interrupted, blurting out nervously, “don’t move on. Not yet. Please. I’ll—give me a chance to prove myself. I can’t stop thinking about you, I keep checking my phone and my messages expecting you to drop me a call, but you never did. And that sucked, I had never felt more miserable. I can be a good boyfriend, Taehyung. I’ll spoil you rotten and make sure that you’re happy. I want to give you all you want, all the love.”

The taller boy licked his lips before pressing them together and breathing out from his nose. “I thought you didn’t believe in all that. You made fun of me for so long about it and now you’re pulling this kind of shit? How cliché.”

“I know,” he flinched, “it looks bad. But—it’s not like that. You were right to call me a coward, it put things into perspective for me. You make want to believe in all that again—the spark, the signals. I want to give you all that.”

“I’m the rule, remember?” Taehyung whispered. He was never meant for this. He should stick to something—someone—safe like Namjoon. He wanted his happy ending and he didn’t think he could ever find it in Jimin ever again, not after what he’s said. But his heart was still throbbing, beating loudly for him, crying out for him.

This was what Taehyung always dreamed of but maybe, maybe it really didn’t exist. Jimin caught his hands, bringing them up to his lips to press kisses. “I was stupid. There are no rules, no exceptions. Everyone is different, it’s just a matter of whether you’re an asshole or not, whether you’re going to be sitting around on your ass rejecting every notion of love with fear or going out there and seizing the world. You—you’re the hope for love and maybe, maybe I want to be your hope too for it.”

He tried so hard to hold it back, tried so hard to resist. But even he was still a weak man who fell into temptations. Taehyung had never been one to settle, and this was his attempt to find a balance between safety and adventure. Jimin was both, but neither at the same time. Would he really risk everything—his heart—once again for him?

“Let me try and make you happier, Taehyung. You’re so, so great and you deserve the world. Please give me the chance to offer that to you,” Jimin drew closer, his hands cupping his cheeks to brush away stray tears.

He was crying. What a fuckin’ baby. Taehyung sniffled, “You’re so cheesy that I’m grossed out.”

Jimin laughed, the squeaky one Taehyung loved so much. He was really there with him. “But you like cheesy and gross.”

“Don’t test me, I’m still mad at you.”

The other boy’s expression faltered on his face as he bit on his bottom lip, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist. “M’sorry, I’m so sorry. It was shitty of me to say. You can hit me or yell at me or whatever. I’ll make it up to you, I promise you that.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, “And you’re—you’re sure about this?”

“110%,” he beamed.

His lips twitched as he chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, welcome to my world, Park Jimin.”

#bts #taehyung #jimin #vmin #vminweek2017 #vmin angst #vmin scenarios #vmin fanfic #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #it's almost four am #my brain is fried!!!!!#thank u disneyland and vmin

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nocturnrpg · 6 years

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DANNY RYDER is a 21 year old resident of Penbrook. He was born on the 20th of August 1996. People say he looks similar to Robert Sheehan. Danny is TAKEN.

B I O G R A P H Y .

Danny is born to Lottie and Johnathon Ryder, with an older brother name Finley already there to greet his new younger (by ten years, actually) brother. Two years later, Danny was a given a chance to greet someone, and this was Carrie. It isn’t long before Carrie’s birth before the Ryder’s up and move from California, the place his Mother and Father and adopted as their own for the past eight years as their home, and moved back to their hometown in Cavan, Ireland. The move, in theory, made sense; the family didn’t end up building strong bonds to California at all in the long run. They knew a near empty handful of people and this, tied with Danny’s father’s inability to hold down a decent job, left them with precious little to stay for. For the first few months or so, the family stayed with Johnathon’s mother. This, in itself, was the illogical part of the move. It wasn’t as though Danny’s grandmother was a bad woman, it was just that she and her daughter-in-law were vastly different people. After a spat between the two (that very heavily featured Danny and his inability of keeping his crayons on paper and instead, opting to display his creativity elsewhere - living room walls, for example), they were tossed out to the street. Lottie decided to defend her son in spite of the threats of being kicked out and despite her husband’s very quiet pleas for her to just apologise, she did not.

A woman who was too proud to be bossed around by a woman half her size and twice her age, found herself and her family living out of a car for a week straight till they found a new place to rent. This cycle managed to continue, the renters and the landlords seemed to never run out of disagreements and almost all of them revolved around Danny and the mess he would unintentionally cause. Sometimes, however, they managed to hit the jackpot of landlords and found people who seemed not to care about the state of the house they were letting being trashed that little bit further by the Ryder’s – which inevitably happened in every place. But, of course, Johnathon’s inability to hold down a job always seemed to come back around to bite him and the rest of the families living situation when they got to these places. Soon enough they would have to move out to find somewhere cheaper (see: increasingly worse places to raise a family). The thing is, luckily for them, the Ryder’s, through all of this, could always be counted on as a happy family.

The next thing in the line for Danny: school. So, Danny’s grades may not have been the best throughout his school career, but he tried his best from start to finish; he’d worked his arse off for the C that his parents would plaster a fake smile on for to join him in celebration. Though never formally diagnosed with the latter, something that is simply down to his moving school’s so often along with his parents moving county, Danny suffers with severe dyslexia and ADHD. And as a result, he never enjoyed school: he didn’t like the way he was being forced to learn; he didn’t like the people there, and the feeling tended to be mutual. He was often subjected to a lot of bullying throughout his school years. He’d joke around too much, say the wrong thing, generally annoy people – whether it was intentional or not – he just found it hard to be liked. He’d try and try but to no avail: he figured making friends or generally getting along with anyone just didn’t seem like it was the thing he was supposed to do. It wasn’t till he was sixteen that an opportunity was offered to the family through Johnathon’s job at the time: moving back to California for work. Danny couldn’t have been happier; they were leaving the hellhole he had been calling home for the past nine years, the only con being his brother staying in Ireland to continue with further education.

The move was what Danny wanted to be a turning point for him though, of course, it wasn’t - the same lies that ‘new year, new me’ has to offer as every new year round. Danny went on as he did before in Ireland, quiet enough and hardworking, trying his best to just get school over and done with. Though bullying lessened, it didn’t considerably. There was already someone around ready to prod at him about something or another, but he decided he could handle it. It was never something he wanted to bother his mother and father with, it never seemed necessary. It wasn’t until he made friends with an older boy that he felt his luck beginning to change. Ethan, he introduced himself as to Danny. Ethan was nice to Danny, though they didn’t go to the same school, they found they were neighbours, this and the fact that Ethan was nice to him and didn’t seem to hate his guts the minute he said a word kept Danny on his toes, ready to spend near every spare minute with Ethan. Then, maybe it was because of the fact Ethan paid any attention to Danny at all, or just the fact that Ethan never once told Danny to leave him the hell alone as many before him have, but Danny formed a crush on him. One of those toe curling embarrassing ones, one where Danny could feel himself cringe into himself whenever he said anything to Ethan. Ethan either didn’t notice or was just too polite to point it out. It wasn’t until Danny, in a spur of the moment decision, kissed him that Ethan stopped talking to him. It was only for a week that Danny spiralled into a pit of self-hate and anxiety before Ethan talked with him again, opting to ignore the fact it happened at all. Danny, still in a state, went alone the same as Ethan. Best friends? Friends. They were friends… till the Ryder’s (surprise, surprise) moved once more.

So aged sixteen, Danny and the rest of his family (minus one brother, of course, who Danny barely sees or talks to anymore, for the record) moved, and kept moving. Gutted from the loss of his only actual friend in the whole wild world, he threw himself into his schoolwork again. A few school moves later, though, he decides to try and at least put himself out there with people. Which he does, and succeeds for the most part. He ends up (somewhat popular), the kind of popular that a kid who people think are kind of funny and will talk to in class if the situation happened to arise, but won’t say a word to outside of the school grounds. A popular that Danny settles with. He even dates a girl; which no one saw coming – another thing not expected, by Danny at least, was one girl called Lauren cheating on him essentially the entire time they were together. But Danny being Danny suppresses the heartache that came along with it, and just goes along with school and puts twice as much effort in as everyone else into his schoolwork. And, in the end of it all, comes out with decent grades that he celebrates in private. School ends and it’s another stress out of his life.

This was the point in Danny’s life where things seemed to slow down. Stuck in a constant state of just floating by in his life, he longed for a change and moved out from his parents home, who live just an hour out of Penbrook, where Danny now resides. Now, this wasn’t the most well thought out of decisions for Danny but he needed something more exciting. He didn’t have a plan, but he didn’t have much of anything. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t stand being with his family, it wasn’t the case at all – but they were, in some respects, a ball and chain. A constant reminder that by staying with them, there was no independence for him, there was nothing new and exciting for him to cling onto for his own mental state. So, he up and moved because, really, it seemed like his last hope.

It wasn’t too long after moving that he found a little life for himself, he managed to get a job that he didn’t care for but got him through the day’s he had nothing planned for and got him money for the days he did. He was happy enough, still floating but, at the very least, it was somewhere new. Danny, now, works as a retail assistant and works equally as hard to manage his brain and the trauma that he considers him being himself and therefore never getting to leave his own company.

S E C R E T S .

Because Danny never got the help he needed with his dyslexia, he convinced himself it was something to be ashamed of. Though he can read, it’s a great struggle and takes more effort than he cares to admit. He makes a point of avoiding it altogether if possible, and especially when it comes to reading out in front of people.

He has the deepest self hate issues you’ve ever seen. He sees himself as a deeply flawed person, not because of the way he looks or because of the things he has done ever, but just because of who he is. He deems himself as universally disliked and near enough impossible to be liked. Unless he’s told flat out that someone is his friend (and then periodically reminds him of that fact) he’s convinced they’re talking out of pity. He is working to try and get over it, but this idea has been drilled into him since he started school, facing rejection after rejection. His loud persona and sarcastic nature is his deflection method. He’ll deny anything said about it, but he still feels like the kid that was bullied his whole school career and the one that people only talked to because no one else was there.

Danny struggles massively with insomnia and night terrors. Despite one of his favourite genres being horror, his nightmares are very little to do with the supernatural horror. All seem to be revolving around his insecurities and then involving the people he cares about turning on him because of them. He often manages to get what happened in dreams mixed up with reality because of how little he sleeps – the guy’s exhausted, but he’s also astonishingly embarrassed over them.

Since he’s spent his entire life repressing emotions, Danny often struggles to keep his actions in check when he gets upset. He doesn’t have anger issues like his family once thought and got him checked for – but he does have inexplicably loud and uncontainable emotional outbursts about the smallest things every so often. All of his emotions come out at once and he finds it very difficult to think about what he’s saying in those times, though he’s also very stubborn and does his best avoiding apologising after.

C O N N E C T I O N S .

Best friends with Ben.

Dating Shane.

Used to date Faith.

#rp #new rp #new rpg #robert sheehan #oc rp #danny ryder #danny #taken #character

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yoonia · 7 years

Text

About Time // Part 8

Character: Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words: Angst, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au) / 12,345 words

↳ Prompts: “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary: Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Warnings: Mentions of cancer

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | series index: about time | Next Chapter ⇢

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2026—

The desire to find out more about Jimin’s story had led me to invite him back into my room that night, worried that tomorrow would come far too long. We sat side by side, sharing my bed with him lying sideways next to me. Empty plates from our dinner were placed aside as he started to tell his story.

We have never spent time together aside from our meetings at the ward, and that night marked the first time I would be spending my time alone with him. Which was probably the best decision, since we could finally talk more privately without curious stares and people openly eavesdropping our conversations. We had managed to convince some nurses to let him visit me in my room, carrying his dinner with him. I hated hospital food, and I couldn’t eat anything during this period of my treatment. So it became the perfect excuse for him to leave his room, since everyone figured that I might be able to finish my meal if I had him to distract me.

“I’ve told you about how I was back then. About what kind of life I lived in after I started dancing and left school for it,” he started, right after we finished our meal. We were both lying sideways by now, facing each other as we talked. I had only realised then how much closer we were than we have ever been before. But it was surprisingly comfortable and safe.

“Oh, I don’t think I can forget about it so easily,” I laughed, referring to the stories which he had shared before about his adventurous sex life.

He only chuckled, and I could not help but smile the moment I saw his eyes glowing mischievously. “I never would’ve thought I’d leave such an impression on you, really,” he said as he took a deep breath while keeping his eyes on me. I returned his gaze and his sad smile with my own, silently encouraging him to continue.

“Remember when I told you about how much fame we gained from winning dance competitions?” he asked me, which I nodded to answer. I remembered when he told me about the events and competitions his dance crew had joined at the time, and kept winning, and all the parties that came along with it.

“We were invited to join a street dance battle that was held in a university across the city. Everyone we knew was there and we had a lot of fun that we got carried away in the middle of it. But we still won,” he laughed. His eyes were glowing with reminiscence. “Everything went so well that we felt the night deserved some proper celebration, so we went to have drinks right after. At that same night, my cousin had invited me and my friends to join her and her boyfriend to camp out at their new lodge. It was located right at the foot of the hills, not too far from the university where she was studying at, and we were only a few miles away. For anyone who was able to think more rationally, driving there after drinking alcohol might not seem like the brightest idea. But we were so hyped and excited that we just ignored all rational thoughts.”

“I bet you couldn’t resist when you were offered a chance to have a free party—”

“—and free booze,” he finished my sentence while laughing. “I honestly don’t remember much of that night. Everything went well at first, I remember that much. We managed to drive there safely against all odds and had fun. My cousin and her friends made a bonfire, so we had a barbecue and more drinking. We pretty much partied really hard that night, I think. And what was planned as a camp night with innocent barbecue feast turned into a bonfire drinking party thanks to us joining in.”

I laughed with him. “It must have been wild.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” He shook his head while he wondered about that night. And then suddenly, the glow in his eyes turned to grim.

“What happened?” I asked him when he stopped talking. “Something happened that night, didn’t it?”

He sighed while leaning back and rubbing his face with his thin and rough hands. “The only thing I remember was someone complaining about not having enough stock of alcohol and snacks since we downed everything so fast. Everyone was so hyped with the party, and my cousin disappeared somewhere with her boyfriend. So when my friend from the crew volunteered to take the car and drive out to find the closest store that would still be opened at midnight, I volunteered to go along with him and take the wheel. I think the fact that we managed—well, I was able to drive us out there in the beginning while drunk made me cocky. So I took the car, with one of my friends and the girls that had been clinging around us since we left the event.” He stopped talking again, taking a moment to inhale a deep breath while keeping his eyes closed. “Everything that happened after was a blur, including the drive.”

“You were the one driving?” I asked him which he answered with a nod and a sullen face. “All night? While you were—”

“—Intoxicated. On a massive level. I could no longer differentiate between right or wrong. And obviously, I made a totally unwise choice that night. I don’t even know whether it was the alcohol or the girl who was sitting beside me which caused me to lose control of the wheel and the car. The next thing I knew, everything around me was shattered in pieces. I was being thrown upside down, again and again, before I was crushed between metal and broken glasses. I couldn’t even process the pain before I passed out.”

He stopped, visibly gritting his teeth. I could see him getting lost in his own thoughts as he dug into his painful memory, and my hand automatically reached out to him and gripped onto his hand that was subtly shaking. He slowly relaxed as he gripped my hand. And after a few seconds and a few deep breaths, he smiled at me with gratitude as if he was telling me that he was alright.

“I, uh—” he licked his lips, his eyes staring down at my hand that he was holding, “I can’t remember anything that happened after that. By the time I woke up, I was on a bed with tubes and cables all over my body. I was both numb and in pain, but mostly disoriented.”

“Did your family come for you?”

He pursed his lips. “Yeah, they did. And only after I regained complete consciousness when I found out that I had to go through a massive surgery, nearly losing my life, and I was out for more than 24 hours in an induced coma before I came back.”

I gave him a moment to steady his emotions before I asked him, “How long did it take you to recover?”

He shrugged. “I could no longer count the days. I can’t even remember the pain.”

“What do you remember, then?”

He hummed softly as he tried to recall his past. “I had therapies, both for my mental and physical recovery. I had to practice how to walk again for a long period of time, since my legs were crushed between the metals.”

I could feel myself tearing up when his voice started to crack. “The counselling you went through—was it for the trauma?”

“Yes, it was.” He licked his lips and sighed. “That, and to help me face the fact that I was unable to go back to dancing again.”

“Oh, no—Jimin.”

“That was when I felt my life was over. The end. The moment they told me that I could never dance again due to the injuries I had, thanks to the severe fractures that I had gotten on my bones and my injured nerves. I was lucky I could still walk on my own two feet again months after, but—” his tears started to form at the corner of his eyes. “—dancing was my life. I gave up everything so I could dance freely that when I had to give it up, when I had to lose it, I had nothing.”

I sat up to hold him on his side, doing my best to be there and support him as he cried. It was as if there was a dam inside him that had been hiding his pain, and it was broken when he let go. He patted on my arm once he stopped, yet he still let me hold him close as we lied down on the bed together.

“But, yeah—the therapy helped. I think that in the end, my mind just decided to block all the pain and the bad memories of my struggles, and replaced them with good ones. You know, all the fun stuff I had during my recovery.” He smiled, which only helped me feel relieved. “It was as if the old Jimin died that night in the accident, along with his dreams, since it was that dream that had moulded the past Jimin. It took me six months of long therapies before I was finally able to accept the fact. And the moment I was able to face the new life ahead of me and let go, a new Jimin was born.”

“You’re so strong,” I mused. My body just reacted to his calm voice and I instinctively rested my head on his shoulder without me realising. “I wish I was as strong as you.”

He scoffed, and suddenly started to stroke my hair. “But you are strong. You’re here now with me, still fighting and striving.”

If only you knew, Jimin.

“You know what I used to do back then, whenever I felt like giving up?” He looked down at my face when he asked, so I had to pull away to return his gaze. “There was a long period of time when I was fighting against myself. But as I was on my journey to move past that, I had another period of time when I made the hospital as my home, a shelter, if you will. I used to ask whoever staying to accompany me—be it a family member or a nurse—to take me out of my room, to let me see the world outside of the barrier that was my bedroom.”

I smiled when I see the glow in his eyes returning as he recalled this part of his past. It was somehow soothing to see him finding solace despite all the hardship he had to endure.

“If there was one thing I remember most about the hospital where I was being treated in, it was the huge and spacious garden they had behind the main building where all patients and families can relax between treatments. The place was peaceful, and the view was beautiful. A large spread of fresh green grass, some bushes of flowers, and paved pathways along the side of its pond. But what I loved most was this giant old oak tree at the side of the pond. I used to go there and sit on—”

“—a small white wooden bench with iron made armrests.”

Jimin quickly turned to look into my eyes when I absentmindedly finished the sentence. I could not help myself. Not when I could picture the whole scenery vividly in my mind.

Because I was once there as well.

“Yes, you’re right. How do you—”

I returned his gaze as he kept staring at me with awe, which probably mirrored by my own. “The view and everything that you just described—” I started. I was hesitant, and there was a hint of insecurity inside my chest that had me wondering. “The hospital where I was being treated in after my accident had them too. I used to sit on the white bench with my best friend between my therapy sessions. We would watch the ducks playing on the pond while we chatted with other patients who were there to enjoy the rose bushes while they were practising their walk.”

He gasped. His lips twitched into a smile when he finally realised— “What? But that’s—Did we—?”

I nodded. “I think we were at the same place.”

And probably at the same time as well.

I had no idea why, but there was a part of me that made me feel that way.

“We could’ve met back then,” he mused. The look in his eyes softened as the thought came to us both, and we stayed there embracing each other as we let everything slowly sink in.

The thought itself made me feel crumbled on the inside the more it started to make sense, the more I wondered about the possibility of us missing each other in the past. We could have passed each other by on that paved pathway, or when we walked around the pond. We could have smiled at each other as we took turns in resting on that white bench as we practiced our walk.

“We could have found each other much sooner.”

The thought about how we had missed our chances of meeting each other in the past not just once, but twice, lingered in our minds.

I could not stop thinking about it even after he left my room, and still kept thinking about it as I made my way to the ward the next day. I was feeling hazy after enduring some treatments when I met him, and Jimin’s face that was filled with a warm smile and attentive gaze seemed to glow inside the spacious room even more.

Perhaps it had helped him relieve himself from the painful memories when he shared them to me. Because that was what I had felt when I had told him mine. And after the eventful night of our sharing, I could feel the bond between us growing somewhat stronger. I felt closer to him as I sat next to him, realising then that there was nowhere else I wanted to be other than by his side.

We spent the next few hours that day—right before I passed out into a deep sleep—to continue our talk and started trailing back on our paths in the past. There was something that had urges us to want to figure out if there were any other occasions where we slipped out of each other’s reach without even realising it. So we reminisce a lot of memories as, sharing them to one another, doing our best to remember our whereabouts at the time even though our memory could not actually help provide the much-needed information.

“New year’s eve, 2017. I was in Seoul. I got invited to this frat party with my cousin since she was still single that night. I think that’s where we met her boyfriend, actually. Many college kids were there. I can only remember that there were three floors and the frat house looked more like a gigantic mansion which belonged to a billionaire rather than students.”

I lightly shook my head. “I don’t think I was in the city. I remember celebrating new year’s eve with my family around that year or the after.” I sighed as a piece of what I could remember popped into my head. “Jungkook was there—”

We stumbled upon a setback as I was drifting off to sleep, so we changed the topic of our chat into more trivial matters.

“Favourite ice cream?”

I giggled. “I love ice cream, give me any kind of ice cream and I’m down.”

“Seriously? Anything? Even the mint ones?”

“Hmm—okay, probably not the mint ones. But I don’t mind having chocolate mint, since chocolate is my thing. What about you? Do you have any specific flavour to choose from?”

He rubbed his chin as he tried to think. “I like vanilla, mostly. But I also love sweets in general, and I agree with you about mint flavour.” He cleared his throat while mumbling something about craving for ice cream thanks to our conversation, before asking again,” Coffee or tea?”

I hummed. “I like coffee more than tea. And I must always have my panini or cheesecakes with my coffee. But I guess that habit must change—”

“What? Did they forbid you to have any?” Jimin asked me while pulling on his blanket and changing his position lying down, while I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just have to reduce my daily dose of caffeine, I guess.”

He laughed. “Okay, I will take notes of taking you out for coffee one day,” he said. “How about movies?”

I felt my face lit up and started to mention some of my favourite movies, which were mostly his favourite as well. We even reenacted a scene from the one movie we both love the most, Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Minds, and laughed about how we both could still remember every bit of it so well even all these years. In the end, we promised to watch it together when we had any chance to.

“So basically, we have the same taste for most of anything,” he said while nodding his head. “Good to know.”

“What are you thinking about?”

He only smirked at me. “Just planning a few things that would seem exciting to do with you.”

“What exciting things?” I asked him with quirked eyebrows which only made him grin wider. He sat up on his recliner and turned sideways to face me.

“Will you say yes if I ask you out on a date after we get out of here?”

Jimin still had another day of treatment when it was my time to go home. So I took the initiative to visit him in his room for a chance to say goodbye.

We only talked for a few minutes, yet I still have not answered his proposal that he had given me the day before. He only smiled at me patiently as we pulled away from our deep hug and said, “Don’t forget to call me anytime you need someone to talk to.”

It was Hoseok who came to pick me up. He and Yoongi have been taking turns on making daily visits while I was at the hospital, and they also took turns in driving me to the hospital and back home. It had been only Yoongi who was present for the last few days, so I only met my brother again today as he came by on his own since I was going to stay in his apartment.

I was silent on our way home. I sat next to Hoseok as he drove the car heading to his loft, saying nothing at all as I listened to him talking along the way. My brother had been away for a business trip while I spent the last few days staying at the hospital, making a quick stop at our family home before returning to the city. And he was now sharing things from that short visit to see our family as he was driving the car.

Hoseok had wanted to take me home with him ever since he had come back into my life. And I was sure that he was telling me these things to make me wonder about going home with him, about reuniting with the rest of our family members. But as much as I had no interest in actually listening to his story, I still was not interested in ever agreeing to any family reunion anytime soon.

Not when I had something peculiar in mind that I needed to do before I moved on to anything else.

“Hoseok,” I called him, stopping him as he was in the middle of telling me about the house renovation Yoongi helped plan for our father.

“Yes?” he answered me by briefly glancing towards me. “Is it bothering you if I talk about Dad? I’m sorry. We can talk about something else if you want. What about—”

“I think I’m ready to meet Jungkook,” I cut him off immediately, abruptly stopping him again before my mind had any chance to falter. I turned to my side so I could look at my brother, taking in his reaction as I continued, “I want to see him. I think it’s time.”

Hoseok glanced at me for a moment before turning back to watch the road. He smacked his lips as he processed what I had just told him. “Are you sure?”

I released a deep sigh. “Yeah, I guess. I have to.”

He nodded his head with pursed lips. “Alright then, if you really think so. I’ll arrange everything tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I answered him with a relieved sigh, smiling at him when he glanced at me once more.

We both went quiet for a few seconds, dragging the silence before he asked, “Want to tell me how you made up your mind? Why now?”

I was still contemplating on everything, and I couldn’t give him an answer. Until Jimin’s voice faintly echoed in my head as I recalled what he told me in our last conversation—

“You can still gain control over your life, and decide on how you want to live your life with all that you have left.”

“I will let you know everything I have planned after I finish sorting up all the mess I left behind. After I’m done with Jungkook.”

Hoseok only smiled to me when we exchanged glances. I could already tell that he saw my determination as he looked into my eyes. The way his eyes were glowing as he looked away had let me know that he was proud of his little sister.

“Of course. I’ll be with you all the way, little sister.”

—First Life. Jeon Residence, year 2026—

I arrived at my old house four days after—the house where I had built my life with my husband for years.

It was awfully weird to sit inside the car and stare at the house I have known for so long, to come back again after that one eventful evening when my life was shattered completely in one blow. I was amazed by the fact that even if I haven’t been gone for too long, it still felt like I have been away for years. Time became insignificant after having to go through so many things and had to endure an amount of struggles in such a short amount of time. And now as I gazed upon the house that was once my shelter, all I could sense was how distant and estranged I felt towards the place that I had once called home.

“Are you alright?” Yoongi asked me carefully. I could feel his attentive gaze on me even before I turned to land my eyes on him. He was the one who drove me to this place, in exchange for my busy older brother. And he was the man I had chosen to accompany me on my trip after knowing how much anger my older brother still secretly held against my husband.

“I’m fine,” I answered him with a smile. “It’s just that—it feels weird to be back here again. I feel like it’s now a foreign place for me. Like I don’t belong here anymore.”

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

I opened my mouth to answer but stopped myself the moment my eyes landed on the garage. The garage door was slightly opened, and I could faintly see the presence of his car inside. “His car is there. Unless he went to work in someone else’s car, then he might be in the house right now.”

I could hear Yoongi suddenly getting ready to step out of the car and I turned to question him, “What are you doing?”

“I’m coming in with you. I’m not letting you go in there alone.”

“What?” I tried to stop him. “You do realise that if he is home, having you there with me when I talk to him will only make things worse, don’t you? He’ll blame you for everything when you—”

He faltered on his seat and locked his eyes on me while resting his hand on the door handle. The look on his face was filled with worry, anger, and—

“Something happened, didn’t it?” I asked him, and by how his lips turned into a tight line, I knew I was right. “Yoongi, did he come to you while I was away?”

He groaned and leaned back on his seat. His eyes flickered with annoyance and regrets, while he clenched his hands over his thighs as he spoke, “You were right about him blaming things on me. He has been putting the blame on me about you leaving him since day one,” he said, stopping to release a deep sigh and looked away. “He has been coming to my apartment, looking for you. He tried to contact your old phone that you left at my place. And when he failed, he contacted everyone who knows you, trying his best to get ahold of you and find out where you are.”

I looked away as I was overwhelmed by the sudden revelation. Since the night I left him, I had thought that he would possibly try to stop me or look for me. But as I focused on myself and my recovery, I had never heard anything about him after the last time I talked about him with Hoseok, and it only made me think that he had stopped caring. Our fragile life together before that night was already crumbling, that when I never saw him since that night, I had thought that maybe my choice of leaving him marked as our end. That he too had decided that there was nothing left to be saved.

It was that thought alone which helped me focus on myself, to not fill my mind with the thought of him or with hopes of reconciling. And it was that thought alone which brought me here today, because I thought it was finally time to let go, to find closure to this long silent fight we were having.

Was I wrong all this time?

“What did you tell him?” I asked Yoongi while keeping my eyes away.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel before answering, “I told him nothing. I never told him where you were all this time, and what you were going through since I promised you that I wouldn’t.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything about this? About him bothering you?”

I heard a scoff coming from him and I turned to look at him. “I couldn’t. You have been doing so well on your treatment. I didn’t want him to distract you, okay?”

I only gave him a smile. “Still—I hate knowing that I had dragged you into my problems. And even having him coming to you.” And then suddenly the thought about Jungkook blowing out in anger flashed through my mind. “Did it ever get violent?”

“One time,” he nodded. He saw my eyes widening in shock and quickly reached out to grab my hand. “It was nothing, I promise. He came to my place at midnight, extremely drunk and fuming with anger. He was getting frustrated for failing to find you and he accused me of hiding you from him. We—uh, got into a big fight, but it was more of him giving me one hard punch to let his anger out and he passed out right before any neighbours came out.”

I nibbled my lips to hold my tears from coming out when I suddenly remembered the day he came to accompany me on my treatment, wearing his glasses the whole time and continuously avoiding my gaze. I remembered him lying to me by saying that his eyes were swollen after staying up all night to work. Now I knew that actually happened.

“I’m so sorry.”

He only shook his head while holding my hand. “Look, that’s the reason why I should come with you. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“He won’t. I know him. He has hurt me so many times, but he had never laid a finger on me violently. I will run as fast as I could and call for help if I’m wrong.”

He looked into my eyes as I tightened my grip on his hand to assure him. I could feel his internal battle as he tightened his jaw. We stayed silent, both of us waiting for the other to give in, until he finally sighed. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Yoongi. I need to deal with this on my own,” I told him, before I convinced him that there was no need for him to wait for me. “I don’t know how long this will take.” And he had to reluctantly agree to let me go inside without his guard.

I took my time before I made my way to the house, keeping my eyes at Yoongi’s car as he drove away before turning on my heels. I stood still right in front of the gate to stare at the house right after. If I had felt how foreign this house was before I stepped out of the car, all I felt now as I looked at it was sadness. I could subtly feel the emptiness that I knew would be waiting for me inside.

Taking the first few steps were hard, since my legs had become wobbly with nerves and wary. Yet I just had to push myself forward so I could carry on with my mission. “You got this,” I muttered to myself between a few deep breaths. “You have to do this. Be strong.”

As I walked past through the front door, I had expected to find myself entering the familiar silence that was once my loyal companion. Yet the moment I stepped into the space that used to give me my solemn shelter, the foreign and detached feeling I had felt outside only grew stronger. At that moment I knew, that the house had no longer serve as my home. That I truly no longer belonged there.

The entire living room was dark as all of the lights were turned off and all the curtains were closed shut. From the silence that welcomed me, I expected to have the house completely void of any presence. But as I remembered the sight of the car outside, I couldn’t be completely sure.

“Jungkook?” I called out cautiously. There was a part of me that silently hoped that he was not home. But then my mind was suddenly filled with different scenarios of what I would find.

I have been prepared to find him there, lingering somewhere in the house. But I suddenly could not help but worry about finding him in the house with a company that I would not like to see. Or even if he was away, I started to wonder who it was that had taken my place in driving him to his office.

My heart started to ache as the troubling thoughts left me wondering and silently guessing who that person would be, if he had in fact already decided to move on.

Will I be ready to witness that, the silent thought came through my mind and I slowly started to regret my decision of coming to the house totally unprepared, when my heart had not completely healed from the pain he gave me. I instantly stopped walking as the pain in my chest started surging through my body, and my legs started to wobble even more as every confidence I had earlier slowly crumbled.

“_______?”

At first, I failed to hear his voice, too lost in my own thoughts and in controlling my breathing. I even failed to notice him approaching me, as I was standing in the middle of the living room with my back facing the study room where he had just come out from. His presence only came to my knowledge when he gently placed his palm on my shoulder while calling my name gently, “_____—”

I gasped at the sudden touch and turned to find him standing beside me, still resting his hand on my shoulder with a careful grip. Our eyes met, and while I could not really tell how I looked like as I was facing him, his eyes widened at the sight of me.

He opened his lips and halted. They quivered before he was finally able to speak. “You’re really here,” he mused with a shaky voice filled with disbelief. “You’re actually here. I’m not—I’m not imagining you, aren’t I?”

It was hard to find my own voice for a while, having trouble to register his presence—finally—right before my eyes. I felt like I was being split in half, as a part of me wanted so much to jump forward and hug him, to hold him tight and ask him to take me back, while the other part of me wanted to lunge ahead to push him off and yell, “Why?”

But as I finally regained my own thoughts and my voice, none of those things came out of me. For some reason, I could not understand how, I was able to take a deep breath and calm myself before I spoke, “Yes, Jungkook. It’s me.”

A sob came out through his quivering lips the moment he heard my voice. He moved his other hand to capture my shoulder and turned me around until we were standing face to face, his grip slightly tightening to keep me at my place, perhaps too afraid that I would run away.

Right when I finally had a much clearer view of him and my eyes adjusted themselves to the darkness in the room, I noticed the lines appearing on his face. I took notes of the wrinkles around his forehead, cheeks, and eyes. The bag under his eyes that never before existed were now prominent, while his eyes were bloodshot red, both from exhaustion and from the tears that were building on the corner of his eyes.

“You’re back,” he sighed in relief, yet subtly sobbing between his words. His tightening grips were now shaking and I could tell how much he was slowly crumbling in front of me. “Thank God, you’re finally back.”

“Jungkook—”

“I—I came to find you, and you weren’t there. How could I not notice that you left? How did I—” he kept talking. His voice turned into hushed whispers as he sobbed. “I should’ve stopped you. I—I waited until morning came and waited for you—”

I raised my hand to hold his arms, gently shaking him to make him stop and look at me closely. “Jungkook, what are you doing home?”

He faltered. And instead of giving me an answer, he moved his eyes to trail over my face, scanning me from the top of my head and down, before they landed on my hair. “Your hair is much shorter,” he mused with cracking voice.

I absentmindedly reached up to tidy my hair nervously, finding the end of its length right below my earlobes. I had no choice but to cut them so short, since they have been falling out and drying over the last few weeks. The medications which I had been taking have made a toll on me, making the most significant changes in my body.

“Yes, it is,” I answered him nervously, deciding not to tell him the whole truth. “I just- thought it would be good for a change.”

His lips twitched briefly, and he forced himself to smile. Yet the pained look in his eyes was impossible to hide. “It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” I answered him without looking away. He breathed out once more, allowing me to finally notice how he reeked of alcohol. “Jungkook, you didn’t answer my question. Why aren’t you at work? Why are you home at this hour?”

His eyes started to shake. And for a moment, he looked so lost and so frail. “I—uh, I haven’t been to work for the last few days. I can’t focus. I can’t—I’ve been worried sick about you, I’ve been looking for you everywhere I could think of and—”

“But Jungkook, your work—what about your job?” I gently pressed my palms on his chest, unsure if I should push him away, but already knowing that he would not even budge if I did. “Have you been drinking?” My chest clenched in pain as I took in his sight once again. This time, landing my gaze at his dishevelled hair and pale skin. I could feel how his hands were trembling even more as he tightened his grip on my shoulder.

He only stared into my eyes with a lost look, before he finally answered, “What?”

“Jungkook—” I reached up and cupped his cheeks. And right the moment our skin touched, he sobbed, closing his eyes tightly before he sighed. “Look at me, please,” I begged him, and waited until he opened his eyes again before I carefully asked him, “You just got promoted, Jungkook. You shouldn’t just leave your job and live like this.”

He knitted his eyebrows as if he was trying to let my words sink in, before a spark of realisation appeared in his eyes. “Oh- No, no, I didn’t leave my job, baby. I just took a leave only to look for you.” He started sobbing and stopped only to take a deep breath. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t work or do anything, so I just—I can’t even sleep thinking that I might have lost you.”

“Is that also why you’re drinking?”

He sighed and nodded, turning his face away as if trying to hide his regret. “It’s the only way I can sleep. It’s the only way I can stop feeling so hurt without you.” He looked up to me once again and suddenly pulled me into a hug, crushing me to his broad chest. I silently hoped he would not notice how much weight I have lost, and how powerless I was under his touch.

“But it doesn’t matter now,” he said, crying with his face buried in my hair. “I’ll be okay now that you’re back home. You’re here. It’s all that matters.”

It was so sudden and took me a while before I registered what had happened, of what he had just said. I started screaming in my head, It’s not supposed to be this way, why is this so hard to do.

My heart was in pain from seeing how fragile and how broken he was, and I was so close into surrendering myself to him again only to make things right. For him. “Jungkook—” I tried to speak up and choked. But I took my time to control my emotions before I continued to speak, “I’m not here to come back for good.”

His body stiffened in an instant before he carefully pulled away. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not here to come back, Jungkook,” I gently spoke to him, afraid that he might break even worse, despite the possibility that I might crumble in front him before that ever happened. “I’m here to say goodbye.”

“No—” he gasped, shaking his head as he chanted, “No, no, no—” he sobbed as he spoke, and he held me even tighter as he did so. “No, please don’t say that. Please don’t—”

“Jungkook, please forgive me.”

“No, please,” he tried to beg me even harder as he pulled me closer. He urgently kissed me, desperately, with his trembling lips while begging to me between his rushed and sloppy kisses, “I love you. I love you so much, I can’t do this without you. I can’t lose you, baby.”

My body reacted on its own. After years of getting used to his touch, for a long period of time I have never felt him this close to me, so I returned his kiss and surrendered to him. My body longed for him, and so did my heart and my soul that had been yearning for his touch and to feel his love again. I was so close to letting myself to melt away in his embrace, in his love, when I suddenly remembered the reason why I was here.

“Jungkook—” I whispered to him as I pulled away. “Please don’t make this so hard to do.”

“You can’t be serious,” he whispered to me with a desperation lingering in his voice. “I—I don’t understand—” he abruptly pulled away and started to walk around, pulling his hair while he kept muttering with shaky breaths, “Why? But you’re here. Please don’t do this to me, _____. Please—”

I tried to speak and call his name to make him stop. Yet the moment I opened my lips, I started to sob and cry instead. I could feel my tears came running down my cheeks and everything started to blur. From my hazy sight, I could see him turning around to look at me, my sobbing voice calling for him instead and he took long strides of footsteps to return to me. He reached for my cheeks, cupping my face with his large palms as he rested his forehead on mine. “Please don’t leave me,” he gently begged. “I love you. I love you too much, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I can’t—” I managed to speak between my sobbing mess, “—I have to, Jungkook. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he growled before he shouted, “No!” I flinched at the sudden outburst of his rage, making me jump backwards to avoid him. Terrified.

The moment he lost my touch, he immediately realised what he had done. With eyes widened, shocked at his own outburst, he slowly fell on his knees. “I’m sorry—Please forgive me,” he pleaded with tears falling on his face. He reached for my waist and pulled me closer, holding me tight with his head resting on my stomach. “Please tell me what to do to make things right. Please tell me what I should do to stop you from leaving.”

I let my tears fall as I ran my fingers through his hair. The familiar feeling of his smooth hair brought me back to many years ago, when he did the same, when he was begging me to take him back. I remembered how easy it was for me to forgive him, how sure I was to give him a second chance. And I took my time to look inside my heart, searching for the same ’me’ who was there to hold him and take him back that many years ago. Only to find that the person I searched for had gone, lost in the memories, while the person who was now standing in front of the man I loved so dearly was another ’me’, someone who was more determined to move on.

“Jungkook, please listen to me,” I brushed his hair until he looked up at me with a desperate look in his eyes. “It won’t work. Not when the only time you show me your love and fight for me is when you realise that you are about to lose me. This isn’t the first time, and I know what would happen if I stay again this time.”

He looked down, sobbing, and I broke down along with him. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “I’m sorry for being such a fool. I never wanted to hurt you—No, I shouldn’t have hurt you.”

I joined him to kneel on the floor so I could hold him tight in my arms. For some reason, my tears had stopped falling ever since I found my determination once more. I could still feel the pain in my heart, the ache felt deeper and stronger than ever before.

“But everything already happened, Jungkook. It’s time for you to let me go. This might be better for both of us, because we can’t keep hurting each other much longer.”

I could not remember how long we stayed there, kneeling on the floor together in a tight embrace while we kept saying how much we loved each other through our tears. We stayed until the sky outside had grown dark, until he finally agreed to let me take him to the bedroom where he could rest and sleep off the rest of the alcohol in his system.

“Stay,” he pleaded, suddenly grabbing my hand as I was about to walk away from his bed. “Just for tonight. It’s been too long since I hold you to sleep. At least give me this one last chance. Please—”

He was broken, and so was I. And I loved him too much to leave him when he was too fragile to be left alone. I knew how much I needed to hold him for the last time, for my heart and my body still longed for him. I nodded before climbing to the bed and lying next to him. He gratefully sighed, before lying on his side to face me.

“I love you, ______,” he whispered to me while brushing his palm on my cheek. “Please forgive me. If only we could rewind everything, if only I could change the past, I would do anything—everything I could to make you see how much I love you.” He kept repeating those words to me, begging me to forgive him with his hands wrapped around my body, until he finally fell asleep.

I watched him as he was lost in his slumber and let my mind wandered to our past, to the night we first shared my bed as I was lying drunk on my bed and he stayed with me all night only to watch over me. Back when we were young, innocent, and completely oblivious of how much our love could drive our lives to a long, painful path. My tears started falling again as I thought about us back in our youth, when we spent our lives loving each other so innocently. I let the tears fell as they were tears of relief, as I could feel myself slowly growing stronger as I silently let him go.

“I will always love you, Jungkook. Always.”

I could not remember how I fell asleep.

It was still dark when I woke up, but I could feel the dawn coming close and Jungkook was still sleeping soundly beside me. I had thought that I would have been awakened with aching pain in my chest, just like I did the morning after I had first left him. Yet at that moment, all I felt was relief, despite the sadness that still lingered deep in my heart. But I knew then that I was finally ready to let him go.

After I made sure that he was still deep in his sleep, I carefully moved to leave the bed. I walked out to the hallway right outside our old bedroom to retrieve my bag, and started to collect all the belongings that I needed. I opted to leave all the pieces of jewellery he had given me throughout our marriage behind, and only took those that mattered most to me. It took me a few hours until I decided that I had collected more than enough, and started to make my way downstairs.

I stopped in the middle of the living room, glancing around through the darkness until my eyes landed on the low cabinet at the corner of the room. It was where our framed pictures were displayed, where all the evidence of our lives together were kept together. I kept my eyes on them as I walked closer. It was bittersweet to see each and every one of the pictures still standing there, some were dusty than others as a sign of them never been touched, and I grazed my fingers carefully on each one as I let the memories come flooding through my mind.

My eyes landed on the one I have always kept safe at the back to see the picture of us both, one which was taken back when we were young college students. I took the picture in my hand, holding it tightly before placing it inside my bag as a token of our past. In exchange, I reached into my purse and retrieved a folder that I had prepared since a few days before.

A folder containing the divorce papers which I had signed right before I came to this house.

I held it in my hand, reading the words on the folder before placing it on top of the cabinet, right in front of the framed photo of our wedding. “Forgive me,” I whispered to myself, as I kept my eyes locked on the image of the two of us smiling brightly on that very day. The smile that showed our happiness that had been lost for so many years.

Exhaling a deep breath to push away my tears, I turned around to take a last glance around the room as my last goodbye. I lost track of time and was lost completely in my deep sorrow, that I failed to hear him waking up, or to notice him walking down the stairs.

But as I silently gave my last goodbye to the house which had become an important part of me, I knew instantly that he was there. That he was standing right in front of the stairs, silently staring at me.

I turned around to face him, holding my purse on my right arm and my suitcase with the other. My tears started to flow as our eyes met, and I could see how his eyes were starting to tear up as well. Yet before I ever had a chance to say anything, he gave me a small smile.

“You should go now,” he said, his voice was still raspy and it cracked at the end of his words. “Go before I rush over to you and hold you tight. Before I do everything that I am capable of doing just to stop you and force you to stay here with me forever.”

I sucked a deep breath, forcing myself to stop my tears from falling. I could never let him see me crumble, and I certainly could not falter now when I have made up my mind. When I had done everything I had planned to do, and was ready to do even more.

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

—was the only thing I said to him, before I turned around and walked as fast as I could to leave the house. Never once did I turn around to look at him as I walked past the front door. Not even when I could hear him sobbing from inside the empty house as I close the door behind me.

—Present life. Coffee Town Cafe, year 2016—

I arrived ten minutes late at the place where Jimin and I had agreed to meet that day.

It was highly unintentional, for the most part, since I had not been held back by the traffic or my class schedules for it was one of my free days. I was only late because I had been spending the last ten minutes pacing back and forth around the corner of the block to calm my anxiety, and to make up my mind about what would I be saying to him once we met.

He was sitting at one of the booths right at the corner of the coffee shop, staring out through the large clear-glass window while absentmindedly stirring the straw in his Iced Americano.

“Jimin,” I gently called him once I reached his booth. He turned to look at me, and I watched as his eyes instantly lit up the minute he saw me there. I gave him a small smile and said, “Sorry for coming so late.”

He returned my smile as he stood up, his eyes forming the familiar crescent shade which only made his face looked brighter. “It’s okay,” he said to me, giving me a quick hug which I awkwardly returned. “I wasn’t exactly punctual myself, so I haven’t been waiting that long,” he explained as he pulled away.

I took the empty seat right across to him as he sat back into his seat. “What are you having? Let me get it for you.”

“I—uh, I’ll just have the same as you are having.”

He lightly threw me a quick smile and walked out to the counter, leaving me on my own for the next five minutes before coming back with my Iced Americano and a plate of food. “I hope you like panini,” he mused while placing the plate and coffee in front of me.

I only stared at the food in awe, before looking up to him, trying to keep my face straight as I said, “Thank you.”

There was a brief of awkward silence right after, as I was feeling so lost in not knowing what to say to him, and he was constantly playing with his straw while looking away. I took a sip of my drink, carefully mustering the courage to start a conversation when we made the move at the same time.

“So how have you been—”

“How are you—”

We stared at each other for a while before laughing at ourselves. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Okay, you go first.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I was too nervous to say anything. I’m so sorry for being awkward.”

He scoffed. “Well, to be fair—You’re not the only one feeling nervous. I’ve been nervous about meeting you again for the whole weekend.”

I quirked my eyebrows and giggled, which thankfully made him laugh along with me. “You? Nervous? Because of me? Stop lying.”

“I’m not,” he defended himself between his laughs. “I’m not lying, alright? I truly have been nervous. It’s not like I’m an expert in this, you know.”

“Yeah, right,” I said, rolling my eyes at his statement. “But, why would you be?”

He only shrugged. “I just—I think I’m just excited and I have completely no clue how to face you or talk to you.”

I sheepishly smiled, looking down on my coffee to hide my cheeks that were flushing with heat. “Okay, why don’t we start again? Just—I don’t know, talk—about random things?” I shrugged.

“Okay,” he smiled. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Nothing much,” I answered him, shrugging my shoulders. “Just busy with my studies, and piles of assignments. There’s also my part-time job, lots of sleeping, lots of playing games—Just plain boring life.”

“That’s it? No dates, or going to parties to meet some jocks and frat boys, or any other fun stuff?”

I laughed. “Me? Nah, my life is pretty stale and boring. You are possibly in the middle of talking to one of the biggest nerds our campus ever have. The biggest fun I have had lately was winning a game of chess against my big brother.”

“Hmm,” he mused, sarcastically. “I kind of find that hard to believe. You look like someone who loves and deserves to have fun in college—like partying all night after classes, and should be having some boys racing to get your number, at least.”

I could only laugh. “Are you always this cheeky?” I asked him with quirked eyebrows, completely amused at his playful side that was suddenly showing. No lie, I loved seeing this side of him more.

Jimin only shrugged. “Only with the pretty ones,” he taunted with a mischievous smile. “But you never know, I might only act this way for you,” he said to me while raising his glass, hiding his sly smirk by biting on his straw.

Shaking my head, I mirrored his gesture, using my own drink to hide my mischievous smile as I spoke to him, “You know, when I asked Jisoo about you, I didn’t think that she’d left out about how flirty you are.”

He almost coughed on his own drink as I mentioned my roommate’s name, and he looked up to me with wide eyes. “Jisoo? Asking about me?” He lifted his eyebrows almost comically, his eyes flickered back and forth as if he was trying to register the words I had just said. “Are you really talking about my cousin, Jisoo? Wait, how do you know my cousin?”

I tilted my head as I watched him, confused. “You mean she hasn’t told you yet?”

He shrugged with his both arms on his side, as if asking, “Told me about what?” without saying anything at all other than the lost look on his face.

I grinned really wide. “Jisoo is my roommate.”

I watched amusedly as his grin widened even more and his eyes glistened with awe. “Wait—Now that is one huge coincidence.”

“Really? You actually don’t know?” I asked him, completely not believing that he was still unaware of this. But he only shook his head while swearing for his obliviousness. “Then how did you know that I love panini?”

He chuckled, giving me another shrug and a mischievous smile as he answered, “It’s a secret. I have my own source in finding everything I need to know about you.”

—Present life. Blue Smoker’s Pub, year 2016—

“Woah, girl, this place is really nice.”

I followed behind Hara and Jiyoung as we walked into the pub. The place was more crowded than usual, packed with people standing by the bar and on the dance floor, with some people dancing along to the music playing from the jukebox. Even the seating area was unusually filled with customers, when the entire time I had been coming to this place with Taehyung, we would find the bar as the only place that was constantly packed.

I looked over to the stage and saw some people setting up instruments and speakers, replacing the small grand piano I have usually been seeing with a couple of acoustic guitars and a simple setup of drums. Knowing that the night marked as the start of semester break for college students around the city, I only assumed that the pub was having a special event to celebrate. So I only brushed it off and continued to chat along with my friends.

"So this is where you have been hiding all this time.” Hara turned to look at me over her shoulder with a teasing smile. It was entertaining to see my friends getting so excited, to see their eyes glowing as they walked ahead with locked arms. "No wonder you've never been interested in joining us to those parties around campus. This place is lit! So many cool people are here,” she continued to muse while glancing around. "How did you find this place?"

"Taehyung did," I said, shrugging. "He first took me here after an exam, and we've been coming here together at least twice a week. It's been our sacred sanctuary, away from the hectic life of the campus."

"Well, I think we're going to claim this place as ours too after tonight," Hara coyly spoke as she pulled me and Jiyoung together, guiding us to find an empty table for the three of us. Within minutes, our table was occupied by three bottles of beer, a few glasses of tequila shots, and a bucket of chicken wings and french fries.

We were lost in our conversation and lame jokes when the first performer of the night took the stage, and we had the perfect angle to see clearly past through the standing audience to see a female vocalist taking her place without leaving our seat. That privilege alone deserved its own celebration which we did by having another toast of tequila shot.

Hara was in the middle of sipping her second shot of tequila when I was choking on my beer as Jiyoung shared stories about things that happened on her project's submission day. “—this guy came in with three printed drawings that were exactly the same to one another and insisted to put them all on display. No one was in their right mind, I tell you that. Not even me, apparently, because I actually helped him put them up instead of stopping him. I think the whole class need to sue the campus for giving us all lack of sleep.“

"After the whole semester of researches and designing for twenty-four hours each day, this is really a much-deserved break," Hara giggled, and then stopped to mutter under her breath. "I also need to get laid."

Jiyoung lifted her drink to make a toast, "You and me both, girl."

We shared another toast and laughs while my eyes kept glancing away towards the stage. I was already feeling the buzz of alcohol surging through my bloodstream, and my mind was a little fuzzy. But I could not shake the feeling of how unsteady I was that night. How I could feel a hint of familiarity faintly flowing through the air and coming from somewhere within the room. There was some kind of pull that had me glancing around the room, making me want to walk away from our table and search for its source.

I never had any chance of finding the answer as to why I was feeling a certain way, however, because Jiyoung poked at my side to pull my attention back to her as she coyly teased me, “—at least one of us has been getting lucky."

"I'm sorry—what are you talking about?" I glanced at both of them back and forth while they kept all eyes on me.

Hara propped her chin on her palm with her elbow planted on the table, as she playfully studied my face. "You and your date with Jimin. How did that go?"

"Yes, do tell," Jiyoung said, joining in. "We are basically living our lives vicariously through you, _____. I heard from some little birds that you already had your third date last weekend."

I hid my flustered face by drinking my beer. I could recall the first coffee date I had with Jimin, how that day ended up going so well that we had agreed to meet again for a couple more times after, with only days apart of each other. But nothing was official yet. Especially since I haven’t been really sure about everything, about whether it was the right thing or the right path I should be choosing.

"Perhaps you'll never know. Perhaps he is a different person, but you can't stop yourself from getting close to him and try only because you are unsure.”

—Taehyung's voice suddenly echoed in my thoughts. And a smile appeared on my face as I finally answered them with, "I'm still taking my time to get to know him. And him to get to know me. I just—I don't want to rush things."

The girls exchanged glances and frowns before looking back at me. “You’ve never dated anyone before, haven’t you?”

I opened my mouth to reply and stopped myself. How would I answer to that when—

“Yeah, I’ve—never,” was I could mutter before I raised a glass and tossed my drink in one go. I have been single for the years I have lived on because I have kept myself preoccupied with getting to find my way in life and in my studies. I could never even think about dating anyone, or getting close to anyone else. Not when I have the faces of two men engraved in my mind for years.

“Okay.” Hara clapped her hands and downed her shot with a cringe, before flashing her wide smile. “Let us be the ones to tell you all what you need to know and give you tips on dating to help you out,” she cheerfully said while waving out at the bar to order more shots.

“Oh, so I’m getting free dating class now? While drunk?” I asked her, rolling my eyes and laughing along with Jiyoung. The girl completely ignored us though, and nothing could stop her from ranting about all the things I should know about dating for the next hour—all while slipping a thing or two about her own dating life. I stayed there to listen to both of them chattering and bickering, joking along with them while drinking and occasionally glancing towards the stage as the first performer stepped down for the second musician to take the stage.

The sullen music became the perfect company for our girls night, even when the crowd kept growing as the night was getting late. Everything was a bit fuzzy when I faintly heard the third performer taking the stage. The crowd completely blocked our view towards the stage at the time, and all I could see was the audiences’ heads standing with their backs facing us and people on their seats turning around to watch the performance. From the voice which I heard, I could tell that it was a male performer, his gentle voice resonated beautifully as he sang with his acoustic guitar playing along. Everyone was drowned in his music, in his presence, while the surge of familiarities I previously felt came back stronger. I tried to brush it off, thinking that perhaps I was either drunk or mesmerised by the singer whose face remained a mystery since he was not visible from my seat.

“I’ll be right back,” I told the girls as I left my seat, letting them know that I needed a moment to reach for the girl’s room. A little splash of water on my face might help me feel better, I thought as I walked towards the other side of the pub, cutting through the crowd to make my way there.

The singer’s voice became clearer as I walked further from the crowd’s muffled chattering and as I was getting closer to the stage. I could see clearly the hall heading for the restrooms right in front of me. Yet for some reason, my body felt an intense chill as his voice filled my mind. Hesitant, but curious, I slowly turned around to face the stage, finally having a look at the face belonged to the man who was currently singing in a high note for the crowd.

And I instantly froze.

I stood still in the middle of the room, right between the audience, with my eyes locked on the raven-haired singer who had his eyes looking straight to the audience as he sang wholeheartedly. My memories jumbled messily in my head, finding the same face and the same voice singing for me in a much different place and time.

“I always love your voice,” I could hear my own voice echoed from somewhere inside my head, and another voice answering me with, “I will only sing for you.”

As I was abruptly pulled back to present, finding myself still standing in the middle of the pub, I looked at the boy on the stage as he started to sing another song, only to find myself looking straight into a pair of doe eyes that had been staring at me. I couldn’t move or react to it. I just stood there with my eyes locked on his, and neither of us ever tried to look away as he kept singing.

And then he suddenly smiled. Straight at me.

Something inside me snapped right at that moment, and I quickly turned around to walk away.

It was a miracle that the girl’s restroom was empty, with as many crowds filling the whole pub. But before I was able to enjoy the moment of silence and for being away from the suffocating crowd, the muffled sound of his vocal somehow managed to come through the walls. No matter what I did to clog my senses, I could still hear him perfectly, knowing exactly what words he was singing. And when I closed my eyes, I could see him vividly playing the guitar on the stage.

Yet the image was taken from a snippet of my lost memory instead of a recent event which I had just witnessed.

I stayed there perhaps a bit longer than I should, until I was completely lost track of time. There was nothing I could do when even after a few times of splashing fresh cold water over my face, it still failed to help me calm down. My heartbeat was racing as I listened to his voice from afar until he stopped, and the sound of cheers and claps filled the entire pub.

The sound of hushed whispers started rising inside my head. Different voices tried to talk to me at the same time, jumbled memories flashing vividly that I just had to shut my eyes to stop it. As I tried to control my breathing, the whispers started to die down, leaving behind only one singular voice which sounded clear once everything else faded away.

“Run.”

I quickly made my way out, paced across the pub to return to my friends in fast and long strides, clenching my trembling hands on my side. The rush in my head blocked out my attention, rendering me completely unaware of how the music had long stopped and how there was an announcement being made about a quick break for the stage performances.

“Guys?” I called out to my friends when I finally reached our table. They were in the middle of laughing at some joke I had missed out on, yet they instantly turned to look at me as I rushed to them. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have to leave now.”

“What?” Jiyoung reacted first while I had to stop Hara from standing up. “Are you alright? Should we take you home?”

“No—No, I’m fine. I just have—um, I just remembered that I had to leave early in the morning, so—” I quickly walked over to grab my purse and coat, before hugging the girls one at a time. “You guys just stay and have fun, alright?”

“Are you sure?” Hara grabbed my wrist just so she could study my face. Both of them knew about my health problems, so it was no doubt that my abruptness had made them worry.

“I’m sure. I’ll call you guys tomorrow.” It took me another minute of assuring them to let me go, before I managed to slip away through the crowd once more, on a desperate mission of reaching the way out this time.

But the moment I had to push through the crowd of patrons I encountered on my path, my head started to feel fuzzy again. Not only because of the alcohol, but also the sounds of whispering that suddenly came flooding my head again.

“Oof—” somebody stopped me in my tracks as I bumped into them. The sudden impact pulled my senses back again. And as I stumbled on my heels, the person I had just bumped into reached out with their strong hands to keep me from falling. “Thank you—” I whispered to them, before raising my head to look at them.

My heart made a giant leap the moment I saw their face.

“It’s okay. The place is packed, so you should be more careful,” he stared into my eyes and smiled widely the moment our eyes met. “I saw you earlier from the stage. Are you okay? Are you leaving already?”

I stuttered, having lost my will to speak due to how my body was trembling from seeing him up close. “Y—yes, I—I have to go—uh, somewhere else to be.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” he mused lightly without letting me go. I was lost in his gaze and the sound of his voice, unable to look away from his face while he kept his hands holding tight on my arms.

His hands.

The moment I realised how close we were, I gently brushed his hands off of me. “Uh—yeah, I have a thing tomorrow, so I can’t stay until late. Thank you for helping me, and—uh, sorry for bumping into you.”

He merely grinned. “Anytime. I actually don’t mind bumping into you again,” he teased me. I looked away while silently begging for him to stop. “Do you come here often?”

I awkwardly nodded, hoping to be able to slip away from him. Yet my weak knees were failing me so that I could not move a muscle. “Yes, I do. I’ve never seen you around, though.”

Why am I talking to him? I’m supposed to be walking away, I thought to myself while glancing towards the exit.

He shrugged. “This is my first time,” he said while smiling at me. “But it won’t be my last, I’m sure.”

“Uh—that sounds great.” I forced myself to smile and started to back away. “I guess I’ll see you around—next time?” Or perhaps not. “But I really should go now.”

He leapt forward to stop me as I turned around and tried to continue walking away. “Wait, what’s your name?”

I stopped even though I knew I shouldn’t. I should have just walked away and run, never to return. But my body reacted against my will and stopped. And before I could process anything, I already answered him with, “_____,” I said, my voice sounded as if it came from somewhere outside of my body. “My name is _____.”

“It’s great to meet you, ______,” he said with a wide grin, and a hint of reddish blush on his cheeks. “My name—”

Don’t. Please don’t say it.

“—is Jungkook. Don’t forget about me, okay?”

How could I ever?

SERIES MASTERLIST

Thank you so much for reading the series and for the continuous support. I would feel most grateful for any kind of appreciation sent through my ko-fi page!^^

Disclaimer: All works are written by myself. Any copyright infringement, reposting on any other social media or website, and any act of plagiarism will be dealt with legal action

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lafaiette · 7 years

Text

Give Yourself To Harmony - 2 / ?

This huge alien who looks like a chubby, purple potato, this loud man who is part of the newest alien species just discovered in Heleus, this angara who expresses himself so freely and openly just like the rest of his species, is his sister’s boyfriend.

Her first boyfriend, since her nerd ass never found someone intelligent enough to understand how special she is.

At least, that means this weird guy is clever.

In which Scott Ryder finally meets Jaal Ama Darav, his sister’s boyfriend. It will take him a while to get used to this.

Also on AO3

Warning: this fic contains spoilers of the game, the ending, and the post-game content!

Jaal’s arms are the safest place in the galaxy.

Warm and strong, they wrap around Ryder like a protective barrier, shielding her from any harm, drowning her in his sweet, floral perfume and his little noises of happiness, which are accompanied by the electromagnetism flowing in his body, singing in tune with her heartbeat.

He is a piece of heaven fallen from the stars and she can’t still believe she was so lucky to find him and be with him. Their first date, the one in his family home, is still strongly vivid in her mind and she agrees with what he said that day.

You make my heart sing.

He gently lowers her down onto the floor, but he hesitates a long second before pulling away; ending their hugs and kisses is always a hard thing to do, for both of them, but it got even more difficult for him after he saw her die again in Khi Tasira.

He smiles at her, watching her with that bright, loving smile he has for her only, then blinks quickly, remembering where they are and what he needs to show her.

“Look who is here!”

And behind him, Ryder sees her brother, finally standing, finally not so mortally pale anymore, finally breathing normally. There are dark circles under his eyes and his lips are chapped, but he is alive and well and that hole in her heart that Jaal and the Tempest crew managed to close quite a bit is finally almost sealed completely.

“Scott!” she exclaims happily, running into his arms. This one is an even more familiar hug, one that speaks of the first home they left behind, of the days spent at Mom’s side while she slowly lost her battle to her illness, of the times they finally saw each other again after being separated for months due to their jobs, of Dad’s awkward jokes that SAM now inherited.

“I’m so happy you are here, little bro.” she says, squeezing him tightly, already imagining all the fun they are gonna have, just like old times. Now that he is on the Tempest too, her family truly is almost complete – they only need Mom.

She makes a mental note to talk to her friends as soon as possible about this – Cora deserves to know why she wasn’t chosen as Pathfinder and everyone deserves to learn about Ellen Ryder’s actual conditions. They are her friends, her new family, and that’s something too big, too important, something that she cannot kept in her heart anymore, especially not with Jaal.

But for now, this topic will have to wait. First comes Scott, his health, the consequences he suffered under the Archon’s attack, his future life on the ship, his future relationships with the crew and Jaal.

Lexi warned her that there might be some problems with his psychological stability and Ryder doesn’t blame him; she is feeling frailer than usual too, but she has had more lifelines keeping her afloat than he has.

It’s her duty and pleasure, as older sister, to help him with this too. And she knows the others will support him as well.

“Did you see the Nexus? Isn’t it great?” she continues, without letting him go. His hold on her has actually gotten stronger, almost painful, and she can feel him tremble. He is hiding his face against her shoulder and she pauses after hearing a hiccup.

The crew falls silent and their smiles disappear as Scott starts sobbing.

Behind her, Jaal gasps and immediately comes closer; Liam and Lexi step forward too, while the others share worried looks or watch the scene with melancholic eyes.

The last time he cried like this was when Mom ‘died’. They cried together, in the living room, until the sky got dark and Dad finally left his room to tell them to eat something.

(His eyes were red too and his face too pale, but he looked calmer than what they expected and now she understands why.)

“Scott.” she calls softly, rubbing his back, but that only causes him to cry harder.

“Ryder, I’m sensing high levels of stress in Scott’s body.” SAM intervenes, his tone softer than usual, and she nods, resting her cheek on her brother’s hair. He smells like too-clean sheets and medicines.

“I know, SAM.” she says. Scott hiccups again, sniffles, and finally his sobs end. He slowly pulls away and she can see his face: mottled red cheeks, his dark circles darker than before, his eyes bloodshot.

He’s still trembling and his nose is running a bit; she sees Kallo rummage into his pocket and hand him a clean handkerchief, which Scott takes with a shaky, brief smile.

“Thank you.” he says, his voice too rough and hoarse, like sandpaper rubbed on rock, and he dries his eyes and nose, one hand still clinging to Ryder’s shirt.

“Better?” she asks, shooting him a big smile, and he nods, humming.

“I’m sorry.” he babbles, suddenly embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to… to…”

“Scott, you know what I did the first night I spent here?” Liam says, entering his field of vision to reassure him with a grin. “I cried like a baby. I’m not kidding! All night, big, fat tears that never stopped.”

“Same.” Suvi adds with a nod and a somewhat sad, but warm smile. “It is perfectly normal. And you went through so much, I would be surprised to not see you cry.”

“You know what you need? Drack’s Surprise.” The old krogan puts his hands on his hips, ready to get to work. “It’s gonna make you feel alive again in no time. Just give me three hours and it’s yours, kid.”

“What… what is Drack’s Surprise?” Scott giggles, still rubbing his eyes. His sister laughs and explains, shaking her head with fondness: “A special dish. Drack is pretty good at cooking, you know?”

“Kid, you say that as if I’m not good at other things too.”

“Don’t worry, he will make it extra spicy, just for you.” Ryder promises, patting her brother’s hand, and he nods. He’s breathing better and there is a small, but genuine smile on his pale lips.

“Remember, you can cry whenever and wherever you want.” she says slowly, almost a soothing whisper, something she learned from Jaal.

Speaking of him, he is standing next to her and he rests a hand on Scott’s shoulder, his eyes kind and full of affection.

“Brother,” he says, his deep, rumbling voice sending a warm shiver down her spine and filling her heart with peace, “there is no shame in crying. Let all your emotions out and let us help you.”

Right in that moment, she sees it. Scott’s expression changes drastically and he stiffens as soon as Jaal’s hand touches his shoulder. He casts his eyes down and just mumbles something that sounds affirmative.

That’s enough for Jaal, who apparently doesn’t notice the way her twin tensed up, but Ryder knows Scott well and she recognized the emotions on his face.

‘What is going on?’ she thinks, the warm shiver from before turning into cold sweat. She has a bad feeling about this.

On their private channel, SAM chimes in: “Chloe, Scott’s stress levels and heartbeat have increased. I do not know him well like I know you, but I believe he is experiencing what organics refer to as rage and annoyance.”

“Yes, I saw it.” she agrees, watching her brother talk with Lexi. He looks completely calm now and that dark shadow in his eyes is gone, replaced by sleepiness and drained, tired, but stubborn enthusiasm.

“Perhaps Scott’s encounter with Mr. Ama Darav…”

Ryder manages to curl her lips into a small smile, despite her worry. “You can call him Jaal, SAM, you know that.”

“… Perhaps his encounter with Jaal didn’t go well. May I suggest to speak with your beloved?”

Ryder turns to her big, tall, adorable boyfriend. A hand on her waist, he is watching Scott talk with the others too and there is a thoughtful expression on his face; he doesn’t look worried or disappointed, just very busy with his thoughts.

“Hey.” she calls softly, gently tracing the scar on his cheek. He immediately looks down at her and smiles, the hand on her waist sending pleasant vibrations into her skin.

“Yes, my Darling One?”

Should she ask him here and now? How is she supposed to ask this, anyway? Is there even a right way?

‘Hey, honey, was your encounter with my brother that you pictured in your head for days a disaster?’

She knows Jaal prefers to be talked to in a clear, direct way, without useless paraphrases, but this might be too direct even for him.

However, if things really went wrong, he would tell her, right? He would show it.

She sees no sadness or pain on his face; he was overjoyed, thrilled, when he showed her Scott and he still looks completely calm.

Maybe he didn’t realize something was wrong during his meeting with her brother?

Or perhaps nothing went wrong and she and SAM are just reading too much into this and…

“My Darling One?” Jaal’s face is so very close to hers now. “Are you alright?”

She focuses on him and his eyes and all her worries suddenly disappear, as if they never existed. He has that special effect on her and he told her she has the same on him.

“Yes.” she answers, smiling happily. She kisses him and a new smile immediately blooms on his face too. “Let’s show Scott the ship.”

“Excellent idea-”

“No.” it’s Lexi’s peremptory answer. She glares at them both, a hand on Scott’s arm. “For now, let’s just show him where his bed is, then he will go straight to the medbay.”

“Harry examined me one last time before I left!” he weakly protests, but she doesn’t even want to hear it and her next glare is for him. It’s both professional and maternal, an unbeatable combination that leaves Scott defenseless.

“Fine.” he groans, before eyeing his sister with quiet despair and a silent request.

“Of course I’ll come with you, silly.” she laughs and she is relieved to see him beam at her.

She misses the way his smile fades away, though, when Jaal tags along and she takes his hand.

She made sure to give him the best bed in the crew quarters, the one with the softest mattress, the one two centimeters longer than the others, the one with the best pillow.

Drack is right, they are not all the same, but she will never admit it.

Peebee begs Vetra to switch beds, so she can sleep above Scott and “share bedtime stories with him”, but the turian snorts and refuses, saying her turian mattress weighs too much to be moved.

“And I know what kind of stories you are talking about.”

“Not the sexy type, of course!” But her lie is evident and she tries to distract Scott by telling him of the time she used to sleep in one of the escape pods of the ship.

“Then I jettisoned Ryder and myself…”

“And me.” Cora grumbles from the terminal she’s using to add Scott to the Infoboard.

“… and Cora into a volcano, so I had to move into another room. This one, to be precise.”

Scott looks appalled by the idea of his sister fighting her way into an erupting volcano, but he has regained enough self-control to avoid snapping at Peebee’s recklessness and smile awkwardly at her.

“There, you are in.” Cora announces, then she proceeds to show him the characteristics of the chat the crew shares to exchange messages and important information.

At least, that’s how she describes it, but Scott wasn’t born yesterday and he immediately sees how funny, simple, domestic the topics discussed are.

“Suvi, you… you got your mug stuck on a box in the engine room?” he asks in disbelief, reading one of the many posts where the science officer’s mug suffered a terrible fate, just like her coffee.

“More than once.” Gil comments from the door with a dramatic sigh, sticking out his tongue at her when Suvi pouts at him.

Meanwhile, Drack and Kallo are in the galley, unboxing rations and preparing dinner – if the salarians and krogans of the past could see the scene, they would be disgusted, but Drack treats Kallo just like he treats the rest of the crew and Kallo gossips with him with the same easiness he gossips with Suvi.

There are already spicy and pungent smells in the air and even if Drack’s Surprise will take a while to be ready, there is more food they can eat before starting the real dinner.

Peebee, Liam, and Vetra agree to prepare the tables together – they needed to buy a second, foldable one after realizing Drack and Jaal took half of the space in the galley –, while Gil shows Scott the bathroom, already apologizing for the small size.

“So, the Pathfinder doesn’t have her own shower?” Scott half-heartedly jokes, smirking at his sister from above his shoulder. She and Jaal are making more space in the wardrobe, so that he will be able to put his stuff in there as he most prefers; she shoots him a pointed look, pretending to be offended, and replies curtly: “I am a selfless, humble Pathfinder.”

“You can’t modify the layout of the ship and build a second bathroom in your quarters, silly.”

“Who says that?”

“Uh, Kallo?” Gil intervenes, raising his eyebrows. “I’m sure I just heard him gasp. Don’t say these things when he’s around, Scott, or he’s gonna die sooner than most salarians.”

He and Scott laugh at that, promptly reprimanded by Suvi and Cora, but even though the joke was silly, Ryder finds herself smiling, because her brother finally looks and sounds like himself again.

What she saw before in his eyes, that weird rage mixed with irritability, was probably caused by his tiredness, a natural impulse born out of stress.

Jaal is smiling too. Now that she thinks about it, he has been smiling a lot, more than usual, since their victory against the Archon. No, perhaps even before that: he has been happier, even more open and extroverted, since their beautiful, perfect day on Aya, when they made love to each other for the first time.

She watches him move, take out, and put stuff into the wardrobe, studying its size, calculating all the space Scott might need with precision and care. He is humming under his breath, a melody she never heard before, probably an angaran tune, and she giggles.

He turns to her, blushing a little – she can see it now -, but his smile doesn’t falter and he asks, curious: “Why are you laughing, my light?”

“It’s nothing. You just look really excited.” She pecks his cheek and he grins, nodding quickly.

“I am! This is so much similar to when a sibling returns after a long journey or their trip to Aya! A member of our family is coming back home. It’s an important event.”

He looks at Scott, who is studying the desk and small pantry of the room, and calls him, raising his voice so much even Drack and Kallo in the galley probably heard him.

“Brother! Come put your stuff in here!” He laughs, hands on his hips, and promises him: “Then we will accompany you to the medbay!”

Ryder sees it again: that glint in Scott’s eyes, something akin to distaste, but not quite. It’s definitely close to anger, though, and she can’t deny it anymore.

Something is wrong, whether Jaal knows it or not.

That look lasts only a millisecond – enough for her to see it and recognize it -, then Scott smiles – a too polite, shaky thing to be considered warm and genuine enough – and says: “I’m coming.”

He starts putting his armor and clothes into the – large – space Jaal and Ryder made for him, all while Jaal tries to start a conversation with him, giving him advices to maximize the benefits of the space available, the best combinations of the different parts of his armor and outfits, his memories of home and his childhood which greatly helped him develop such expertise.

“With so many siblings, it’s only natural to learn how and where put your stuff.” he chuckles, but once again Scott replies with a simple, short sound and that same polite smile that doesn’t really mean anything.

For someone as open as Jaal, that reaction is the equivalent of someone telling him to shut up and go away with a punch to the face. For the humans in the room, it’s not that much different and the mood suddenly and abruptly changes, as if someone turned all the lights on and showed things as they really were.

Scott is still tense and stiff and every time Jaal gets too close or Ryder touches his arm, he jolts as if burned and frowns, ignoring both of them with a stubbornness that could rival their Dad’s.

Jaal now senses – sees – that something is off; that painful realization is written on his face, plain as day, but he is as stubborn as Scott or perhaps just too kind and hopeful, and so he doesn’t give up, trying again and again to make him talk, to finally start being brothers, brothers-in-law, and not just acquaintances.

Chloe is about to cry. Spending so much time with Jaal and the angara in general really made her softer, but not in a bad way, that way that mercenaries and outlaws in the vids always sneer at, believing it to be equal to weakness.

It’s a softness that makes the heart and the mind stronger and she can’t understand how she lived without it until now.

Still, it can make things harder than usual sometimes: like when she and the crew watch sad vids and she finally lets herself go without shame, promptly followed by Liam and Suvi and sometimes even by Kallo and Gil. Or like when the Nexus’ expectations are too many and she feels overwhelmed and the stress weighs on her like a boulder.

But even then, they are natural reactions, natural responses to the world around her that humans usually try to keep down, hidden in their hearts and rooms, to avoid feeling ashamed in public. But being ashamed for one’s feelings is something that doesn’t exist in angaran society and it seems like the Milky Way species are slowly learning that from them, a lesson they should have learned much sooner.

She hopes they are teaching good things to the angara in return. Jaal said they are, that the humans’ creativity and the turians’ sense of honor are precious gifts to witness and experience, and she believes him, because he is always honest and his honesty never replaces kindness.

This is why she could understand Scott’s first reaction upon being thrown into this new life aboard the Tempest. She can relate so much to him now, more than before, but this particular annoyance directed at Jaal only indicates that his stress disorder and trauma are not the only causes of his behavior.

“All done.” her brother announces, closing the wardrobe and stepping back at the speed of light, far from her and Jaal. Their family has never been particularly touchy-feely, but they still knew how to hug or pat each other’s back.

This distance feels wrong, forced: he’s deliberately avoiding them, as if he fears to catch who knows what disease or get trapped in their tight hugs.

“I’m going to Lexi, now.” he says, smiling awkwardly at them, aware of the fact that they are aware of his problem now. He walks backwards, still facing them, opening and closing his mouth while his brain attempts to find something clever to say, but nothing comes out and in the end the door automatically opens.

“We can accompany you if-” Ryder starts, but he shakes his head, eyes going wide with panic, and he cuts her off: “No! No, thanks, sis. I mean, the ship isn’t that big, I won’t get lost.”

He tries to smile again, but fails and then he leaves, leaving her, her boyfriend, and their friends alone in the room, stunned and embarrassed.

“Poor guy really needs a good night of sleep.” Gil breaks the silence in the end, getting some affirmative hums from Cora and Suvi, but Ryder watches the closed door with a growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.

It gets better only when Jaal’s hand touches the small of her back and she feels his lips touch the top of her head.

- - - -

She doesn’t dare join Scott and Lexi in their conversation; it’s private and too delicate, especially since it will most likely be a psychological session. She is sure Lexi will be able to make him feel better and help him understand what is causing him so much trouble and pain.

Drack’s Surprise will take a while, so she and Jaal take refuge in their quarters, far from Cora’s questioning looks – What is wrong with your brother, Ryder? – and Gil’s sorry eyes – That sucked.

She needs to talk with Jaal and this is the perfect time and place to do so. Gone are his excitement and joy: he sits quietly and somberly on their bed, cleaning his rifle, his Rofjinn lying next to him.

“Sweetheart.” she calls, knowing he adores when she calls him sweet names and uses funny endearments.

They make me feel part of your heart, he said once and she replied, causing him to nearly cry there and then: You are.

He raises his eyes from the weapon, but doesn’t speak, waiting for her to do so. She sits on the bed and rests her head on his shoulder, watching his large hands rub a smooth cloth on the rifle and dismantle it easily to reach the inner parts.

It’s a sight she saw before, back when they still weren’t together, when they still weren’t even friends; they took apart weapons and modded them together in a pleasant silence, sharing advices and ideas once in a while, learning more about each other that way.

This time the silence isn’t exactly pleasant; it’s familiar, calm, and they both feel safe in each other’s presence, but Jaal’s eyes are worried and the galaxies in them swirl sadly, slower than usual.

Chloe kisses his scarred cheek, enjoying the slightly electrical feeling, and calls again: “Darling One.”

At that, he moves his head and lightens up a little, even showing a small, precious smile.

“Yes?”

“Tell me what troubles you.”

Jaal goes back to cleaning his rifle and she doesn’t stop him, knowing he needs those repetitive movements to calm down and let his mind focus on something else rather than his worries. He told her so once, when he was busy making gifts for the crew. She remembers everything he tells her.

“I don’t think Scott likes me.” he says in the end, a barely audible whisper that contains all the sadness and shame in the world.

He is ashamed because he thinks it’s his fault? That he failed her?

She is definitely going to cry now.

“Honey,” she starts, hoping her voice won’t break too much as she speaks, “that’s not true. Scott likes you, he’s just…”

He’s just tired. Scared. I think?

Where is Mom when you need her? She could always understand Scott better than she or Dad could.

“He’s just gone through a lot, like everyone else. But he has been alone and far from us, from me, for quite some time and it’s hard to get back into things when they are so new and…”

“And alien.” he gently interrupts her, his smile smaller, frailer, than before. “I understand that, taoshay, I completely do. But I fear this is about me in particular.”

She swallows, knowing he might be right. She prays he’s not, she prays Scott is just being really sensitive to Jaal’s louder manners and that he’s going to treat him kindly in a day or two, but something tells her things are more complicated than that.

“He likes you.” she repeats, to convince both him and herself. Jaal frowns, confused, and asks: “Did he tell you so? When?”

“I…! No, he didn’t tell me, but…” She sighs, sliding her arms around his and resting her cheek on his shoulder again, watching his hands go still on the rifle. “I can see it. I know he likes you, Jaal, he just needs time to get used to all this.”

“I saw something else.” he says softly. “Your brother tries to hide his true feelings, but he is not very good at it, just like angara. I saw distaste in his eyes.”

Chloe grimaces and bites her lips. Jaal might be the biggest sweetheart in the world, but he isn’t naïve and very few people can hide things from him and his perceptive, brilliant mind.

“Jaal.” She raises her head and sees he’s watching her intently, his expression a weird mix between resignation and hope. “Maybe – maybe – he doesn’t like you now, but he will do soon. I’m sure of that, believe me.”

“It might help knowing why he doesn’t like me.” he softly whispers, self-consciousness dripping heavily from each of his word. “Maybe I shouldn’t have hugged him when I met him outside the Cultural Center?”

Chloe snorts, trying to imagine her brother being lifted up by her bulky, tall angaran boyfriend. The scene looks funny in her head, but considering how antsy and nervous Scott seems to be, it’s probable he was deeply annoyed by it.

“It’s because of that, isn’t it?” Jaal sighs, looking at the stars visible from the window with a small, adorable pout.

“You probably were one of the first angara he ever saw. And speaking of angara, he never interacted with your species before, so he probably doesn’t know how to act around you. Maybe he fears to disrupt months of delicate diplomacy or who knows what else.”

Jaal turns to her again and she smiles, feeling confident about her reasoning, which she believes to be one of the reasons her brother is being so standoffish around Jaal. But her boyfriend isn’t so sure and he tells her so, frowning as he thinks hard about it.

“But, light of my life… you weren’t like that at all when you first met me and my people.”

She blinks, blushing a little.

“I was not?”

“No.” Jaal smirks, putting the rifle aside to wrap his arms around her. “You were professional and kind. Sometimes you looked unsure about what to say or do, but you rarely lost your control. You always treated us – and me – with great respect.”

His words make her blush even more and smile goofily, but it hurts a little to know that Scott, in comparison, can be considered extremely rude.

“Well, what can I say – you guys were and are amazing.” she says, grinning at him, but his smile is sweet and soft like his kisses and the utter adoration in his eyes is vast like the sky, so much her silly joke feels out of place and she immediately gets serious again.

“You are.” she repeats, a loving whisper that caresses his lips. “You are amazing.”

She kisses him, a hand on his cheek, the other on his shoulder, and his hands pull her closer to his chest so that he can deepen the kiss.

“Especially you, Jaal Ama Darav. Never doubt that.” she concludes after they pull away, lips moist and eyes full of emotion.

His fear, which he was able to push down for a bit, comes back and he babbles, looking for reassurance: “Do you think he will change his mind about me?”

“Of course he will! He just needs more time. He needs to know you better.” She cups his cheeks and rests her forehead against his, breathing deeply. His perfume smells stronger today. He must have used more of it for the big day and her heart beats painfully in her chest at the thought.

“He’s probably a bit jealous too.” she laughs, but Jaal is confused by that notion.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Well… brothers and fathers can be overprotective of their sisters and daughters, when a partner enters the scene.”

Jaal hums at that, frowning a little.

“Really? Angara are protective of all their children and siblings, no matter who they are.”

“I know. But things are different for some humans. They fear their sister or daughter’s partner might take her away from them. It’s…” Chloe makes a funny sound, rolling her eyes. “It’s silly, I know.”

“It is.” Jaal agrees, his frown bigger. “Why would their daughter or sister be taken away from them by her beloved? They would still be her family, still be in her heart, still belong to her soul!”

“See?” She kisses his nose. “This is why you guys are the best.”

Jaal laughs at that, but then he gets serious again – almost solemn – and asks quietly: “Darling One… do you think your dad would have been jealous too? Would have he liked me?”

That makes her brain stop of a bit. She is almost surprised not to hear SAM announce that all her brain activities have been interrupted.

She recalls her father’s mannerisms and ways, his serious face when twelve-years-old Chloe first confessed to him and Mom there was a turian kid she liked in her multi-species school; his small, but amused smile when he told her to go for it and see how it went.

She recalls the red spots on his cheeks when Mom first gave her and Scott The Talk, his hand covering his eyes when she started talking about reproduction.

She remembers him sitting on Scott’s bed, giving him advices about one of his crushes in high-school, and his voice every time he told her to be careful on the streets, no matter the time of day, because “there are seriously fucked-up individuals around, so remember your training”.

Then she thinks about Jaal, so earnest, kind, thoughtful, and loving, so protective in his own way, so funny and sweet, so strong and selfless, so smug and timid.

She pictures him shaking hands with her dad in the angaran way, modding weapons and shooting kett together, talking about the Milky Way – Dad would smile at the way he pronounces it -, about Aya, about life and family and love.

Then she pictures Dad awkwardly hugging Sahuna, standing stiffly at the center of Jaal’s house, surrounded by countless of curious siblings and children, and in the end letting them study his beard and N7 armor with a chuckle.

He would thank Sahuna for Jaal and then he would thank Jaal for the love he is giving his daughter.

“Yes.” she says in the end, tears in her eyes and a big smile on her face. “Yes, he would adore you.”

Jaal smiles too, brushing away her tears with his thumbs, and there are relief and contentment on his face. Then he gets timid and if his hands weren’t on her face, he would probably start fidgeting.

“What… what about your mom? Would have she liked me too?”

She will. If those wistful fantasies about Dad meeting Jaal and his family are just that – fantasies that won’t ever become true now -, those starring Mom can still be real. She is alive and SAM is sure a cure will be found, hopefully before Chloe and Scott reach her same age.

The problem is that she still hasn’t told Jaal that. He still doesn’t know about Ellen Ryder’s conditions and she wonders why she didn’t tell him sooner. He would only be happy, crazy with joy for her, and they would have one more beautiful thing to look forward to.

She knows she should ask Scott first – Ellen is his mother too, after all -, but she also knows that Jaal will never tell this to anyone if she asks him to, so she can prepare herself to tell the others.

She decides to tell him. Here, in their room, surrounded by stars, while Drack’s Surprise slowly takes form in the oven and Scott vents with Lexi in the medbay.

“She will.” she says with a confident nod of her head and at first Jaal smiles, looking like the happiest man in the galaxy, but then he makes a confused sound and blinks.

“She will?”

She starts to explain it to him; he already knows about her father’s locked memories and initially he nods, listening intently to her. Then she mentions the benefactor – and for a second she almost tells him about the Reapers too, but that would be a too big burden; it’s so painful she has to pretend she never heard about it in the first place and she knows Jaal would feel and experience her same pain as if he was part of the Milky Way Galaxy too.

SAM intervenes too, explaining things more clearly or offering more insight into Alec’s actions and wishes, and here Jaal’s eyes start to widen. At the end of the explanation, his mouth hangs open and he can only stare at her, speechless.

“Uh… Jaal?” She laughs nervously, tugging at his hand. “Are you okay?”

He closes his mouth and then something that she always considers like a gift from heaven happens: he starts laughing, triumphantly and joyously, and he takes her in his arms, swirling her around.

“My Darling One! This is wonderful, marvelous news!”

She laughs with him and he is as excited as she was when she learned the truth: there are tears in his eyes and he talks fast, babbling, and can’t stay still; his hands touch her everywhere, her face, her waist, her shoulders, and he asks more questions, to her and SAM, and in the end he stops, smiling at her like she is the best thing in the world, like he knew things would go this way because she is perfect and she deserves only the best.

“My love.” he says, taking her hands, and leaning in just like he did on the bridge of the ship, the day they fought the Archon, only that this time they are not going to war, but moving towards peace and a place of our own instead.

“My heart is bursting with joy.” He nuzzles her nose and she giggles, sniffling, because tears are in her eyes too. “Your father’s secret… is this why you waited to tell us?”

“Yes, but I should have told you sooner. Just… can we just wait a little more before telling the others? This is pretty big stuff and if rumors started spreading around on the Nexus…”

“Of course!” He brushes back her bangs and his gloved fingers linger a bit on her hair. He has always been fascinated by it. “Of course, my Darling One.”

She bites her lower lip and adds, slowly, carefully: “There is something else too. This concerns the Milky Way Galaxy and it’s even more serious, but… I need more time. Can you… can you wait some more to hear it?”

He chuckles, in that endearing way that means ‘you’re such an adorable woman’, and nods, still brushing her hair and stroking her face, his electromagnetism sending playful sparks down her neck and shoulders.

“Take all the time you need.” He lowers his voice and rests his forehead on hers again, murmuring: “Thank you for trusting me with this, Darling One.”

“You make me feels safe.” she says, smiling brightly, and he looks so happy she is sure she will start seeing rainbows appear in the room soon.

“Chloe, Jaal,” SAM suddenly speaks, making them both jump, “Mr. Kosta and Scott are asking for permission to enter your quarters.”

“Oh!” She and Jaal exchange a surprised look, then she nods and replies: “Let them enter, SAM.”

They pull away from each other a little bit to avoid upsetting Scott, but he will have to get used to them sooner or later, so they end up holding their hands as he and Liam step into the room.

“Hey, guys! Scott here wants to see the rest of the ship. I thought he could start from here.” Liam sighs and gestures at the whole room, letting his arms fall with a wistful expression. “Look at that view. Look at all this space.”

“The perks of being a Pathfinder.” Ryder quips smugly, earning herself a grin from Liam and a half-smile from her brother.

His eyes linger on Jaal and it seems he doesn’t know how to look at him, whether with exasperation for finding him in his sister’s quarters (although he knows this is his room too) or curiosity.

He opts for hiding it all and pretending the angara isn’t even there, so he looks around after thanking Liam - who quickly leaves the room - and whistles.

“This is quite the room.” His eyes move across it, from the planetary view that shows the situation on the outposts, to the desk, which Ryder and Jaal share with each other.

Their stuff is there – various tech pieces, small weaponry, salves, datapads, Chloe’s books -, but Scott pretends not to see it, just like he pretends he can’t see Jaal’s Rofjinn on the bed and his armor and belts peeking out from the wardrobe and boxes near the bed.

“SAM! You’re here!” he exclaims, smiling at the holographic figure of the AI.

“Hello, Scott. Are you feeling better?”

He hesitates, taken aback, but he quickly regains his composure and answers, smiling: “Yes, thank you. Lexi is a great doctor.”

“I’m glad to hear so.”

Then he sees Alec’s helmet. At first, he is almost too overwhelmed to approach the small table, but then he slowly walks over to it and hovers his fingers over the glass, then brushes them against the name Alec etched on the side of the helmet so many years ago.

It lasts only a few minutes, but at the end of it Scott’s hands are shaking and there is that haunted look in his eyes again.

“Scott.” Chloe moves near him and touches his shoulder, a gentle poke to make him look at her. “Little bro, let’s go see the cargo bay and the other parts of the ship.”

He nods and moves to follow her out of the room; Jaal of course comes with them and the two of them stop at the door, unsure whether to proceed or let the other pass first.

“Uh…”

“Mh…”

Jaal fidgets and Scott avoids his eyes, watching his sister move along the corridor; she is blissfully unaware of what is happening just two steps behind her, but if they don’t answer her soon she will turn back and see how childish and stupid they are.

Scott hesitates some more; Jaal’s good manners and his strong desire to be liked by his future brother-in-law force him to let him pass, but the human doesn’t understand his intentions or maybe he’s too proud to accept his offer.

“You first.” Scott babbles in the end, smiling awkwardly at him, but Jaal shakes his head.

“No, you first!”

Scott frowns, his politeness replaced by that same annoyance and confusion from before.

“I insist.”

Jaal’s fidgeting gets worse and he glances at Ryder, who is talking to Drack and Kallo from the corridor. She still hasn’t seen what her boyfriend and her brother are doing and he hopes they will resolve this issue before she does.

“It would make me really happy to let you precede me, brother.” Jaal insists, hoping sincerity will help him in this difficult challenge.

Scott narrows his eyes at him and stays quiet.

Maybe not, then.

“Why are you always so kind?” he suddenly asks, bitterness in his voice, sadness in his eyes. He looks like Chloe, but at the same time he doesn’t and he definitely doesn’t sound like her. It scares and confuses Jaal beyond measure.

“You don’t even know me. You don’t have to treat me like this just because I’m your girlfriend’s brother.”

“I don’t treat you with kindness because of that. Not just because of that, anyway.” Jaal shakes his head, wondering if his hug at the start of their encounter could really be the cause of all this distaste.

“You are family. You were always there for Chloe and you love her. I know you have a gentle, selfless heart. Why shouldn’t I treat you kindly and respect you?”

Something breaks in Scott and his tired, drained eyes suddenly come alive; a dangerous fire burns in them and he snaps at Jaal, fists closed, voice rising to too high levels: “That’s not true! I wasn’t there for her, for anybody! I did nothing! And you can keep your… your sympathy and pity and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine!”

If Ryder didn’t hear them before, now she definitely did. The entire ship heard them, in fact, and everyone’s head is peeking out from the open doors, like curious animals alerted by the sounds around them.

Jaal has no idea what Scott meant with that last idiom – he will have to ask Chloe about that -, but he understands it’s offensive and crude and his heart hurts. He can see pain and ire and shame on Scott’s face, together with new tears and a too heavy breathing, and he realizes that his hug and his manners weren’t really the cause of all this.

Ryder is coming back to them, almost running. She looks back and forth from Scott to Jaal, asking for an explanation, anything, but both men stay quiet, Scott looking down at the ground, Jaal looking at him, waiting for him to calm down so they can finally talk normally and fix this before it becomes too big and complicated.

He wants them to be friends. He wants Chloe to be happy. He wants Scott to be happy too. He wants him to be part of the family – no, he already is, he has always been. Why is he so scared? Why does he say he did nothing? Why does he feel worthless?

Jaal cannot understand that. Nobody among the angara is considered useless or worthless, not even those who betray their people, like Vehn Terev, who is still tending to flowers and plants on Aya despite selling the Moshae to the Archon.

“What is happening? What’s wrong?” Ryder asks, her panic rising, and Jaal shakes his head.

“I do not know.”

“I… I’m sorry.” Scott murmurs, then he finally exits the room, walking past his sister and ignoring her when she calls to him. The ship is so small and he still doesn’t know it well, so he takes shelter in one of the few rooms he already knows, the crew quarters, and closes the door behind himself.

A heavy silence falls in the Tempest, broken by Lexi’s sigh.

“This is going to take much time.” she says, almost like a warning to everyone present.

“I don’t understand.” Jaal insists, looking at Ryder with big, sad eyes. “It’s like this is because of me, but at the same time it’s not.”

“Maybe it’s both.” Kallo suggests with a shrug. He’s wearing an apron dirty with red sauce and brown spots, while Drack’s is miraculously clean.

“It’s gonna take him more than time to get better.” The krogan clears his throat, glancing at Lexi. “Mine is not a doctor’s opinion, though.”

“You are right.” Lexi concedes gracefully, tapping her thumb against her chin. “He needs time, rest, and cures. I already provided him all he needs, but the rest is up to him and us.”

Ryder lets out a sigh; shoulders slumped, she looks drained of all energies just like her brother and a bit lost. She knew things wouldn’t be easy, but she didn’t think they would be this bad.

Jaal takes her hand and squeezes it, making her smile again, even if for a little while.

“Is it a good idea to let him stay here?” Vetra asks, causing some people, Ryder and Jaal included, to stare at her in disbelief. “I mean…! Here, on an exploration vessel, where things might go wrong any minute! We still have to fight kett and other nasty creatures almost every day and the Nexus and Aya ask a lot from us.”

“He and Ryder have been apart for a year, Vetra!” Suvi exclaims, shaking her head. “Separating them again would only make things worse!”

“Yeah, he needs to feel useful. Active. Alive. Not rot some more in a white room.” Cora agrees, rubbing her neck. Gil, next to her, glances at Jaal and Ryder, who both look like two kicked puppies holding hands, and sighs.

“Guys, come on. He’s gonna get better!”

“It’s just his first day.” Peebee agrees, munching one of the dry cookies she stole from the galley while Drack and Kallo were distracted. Both are glaring at her, but she bravely ignores them. “I’m sure we will see good results in a month or so.”

“For now, let’s give him some space.” Lexi says this while looking at Chloe and Jaal, who gloomily nod. The doctor sighs, rolling her eyes. “And… let’s not discuss this in the corridor, where he can hear everything.”

A hushed chorus of ‘shit’ resonates for a moment, then everyone goes back to do whatever they were doing before being interrupted.

Ryder and Jaal go back to their quarters and they reassure and comfort each other there, kissing and cuddling, finding hope and reassurance in each other’s arms.

Drack and Kallo call everyone for dinner half an hour later and they are glad to see Scott be part of the group, even though his eyes are puffy and red, sign that he cried a lot.

He sits next to Chloe, perfectly silent, and doesn’t even look at Jaal when he sits at his sister’s other side. He cracks a smile when Vetra makes a joke about Drack’s cooking and chuckles softly when Suvi almost chokes on the spicy sauce.

Liam is unusually late; he didn’t even witness the argument in the corridor and he basically scrambles into the room after being called through the comm for the third time.

“Sorry! Sorry! I was busy looking for these!”

He hands Scott too white, plastic thingies. Everyone gasps and looks away, except for Ryder and Jaal, who looks at that curious gift in complete bewilderment.

Scott is rather confused too.

“… Earbuds?”

“Yeah, man! Nights in the Tempest are loud!”

Cora hides her face behind a napkin; Suvi and Peebee make gestures in the background, desperately trying to catch Liam’s attention; Vetra clears her throat and taps her fork against the table, hoping to obtain the same result, but in vain.

Chloe and Jaal share an even more stunned look, speechless, while Scott smiles and says: “Liam, I’m used to loud snoring. Back on the Arcturus Station, there was a colleague of mine who…”

“Oh, I’m not talking about snoring.” Liam wiggles his eyebrows.

“No…?” Scott looks both scared and intrigued, then he realizes what the other man means and he turns three deeper shades of red.

“Oh! You mean you guys… in that tiny room… uh…”

“Ew, no!” Liam laughs, grimacing. “The good stuff happens somewhere else. And believe me, it’s loud. Someone here just lets it all go.”

He nods at Ryder and Jaal with a grin. They aren’t ashamed – they are perfectly aware of how loud they can be in bed -, but they didn’t know the others used such contraptions to avoid hearing them.

They definitely know, though, that Scott is not going to like this.

In fact, another massive frown appears on the young man’s face and he stares down at the white earbuds on his hand with something much similar to disgust, embarrassment, and maybe a bit of amusement all mixed together.

Only then Liam notices the others’ murderous looks. Ryder, in particular, looks about to throw her plate at him and Jaal, who would usually laugh about this in his usual carefree, joyous way, is glaring at him.

“What?” Liam asks, confused. He stares, dumbfounded, as Suvi repeatedly smacks her little fist against her forehead and Gil pinches the bridge of his nose. “What? Does he really need to hear his sister and her boyfriend call each other cute names while going at it?”

A chorus of exasperated, desperate voices rises from the table and Scott’s choked half-snort, half-sob is almost inaudible among the confusion and noise.

I'm not sure how much longer this fic is gonna be - perhaps two more chapters? We will see!

Also I chose the default/Sara look for my Chloe! I only changed the name because "Sara" is my little cousin's name and it would have been pretty weird to hear it in the game.

#mass effect #me:a #jaal ama darav #jaal #rydaal #lafaiette's fic #me:a spoilers

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