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#word count can be important too as I like longer stories
espinosaurusrexex · 5 months
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Watchful Eyes
CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU
read Bucky's story here
summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)
word count: 10.8k
warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
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“Can you start Monday?”
“I can start Monday.”
“Perfect.”
Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 
You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  
It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 
There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 
The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  
The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 
The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 
You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 
“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 
Holy Shit. 
Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 
Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.
“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”
Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.
“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.
“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.
“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 
Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.
The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 
You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 
“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 
“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.
“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”
His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 
“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”
“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.
Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”
Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 
“Sure.”
“I’m serious, Buck.”
“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 
Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 
As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 
“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 
Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 
“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.
“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 
“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 
It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 
Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 
“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 
“Just shut up, punk.”
“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 
Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 
But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 
He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 
“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”
“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 
“You aren’t serious.” 
“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 
“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 
“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 
Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.
“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 
Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 
Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 
“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 
And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 
By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.
You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  
Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 
With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 
You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 
You knew better though. 
People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 
Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.
Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 
So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 
Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 
Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.
He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 
The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 
Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 
It was worrisome. 
He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 
He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.
You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 
“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 
Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“
“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 
Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 
“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 
“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 
You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 
He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 
“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 
Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 
His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”
He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 
After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 
Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 
The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 
He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 
The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 
You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 
“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 
“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 
“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 
But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 
You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 
“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 
“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 
“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.
You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 
“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”
“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 
“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 
“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”
“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 
“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”
Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 
“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”
“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 
“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 
“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 
This was definitely new.
❁ ❁ ❁
The next week was pure torture. 
Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 
It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 
Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.
It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 
“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 
Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 
The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 
Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 
His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 
He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 
“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 
His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 
Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 
Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 
For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 
Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 
He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  
Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 
“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”
“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”
“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”
“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 
“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 
“So...?”
“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”
“Yes, very.”
You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”
“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?
“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 
“I knew it!”
“Nat, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 
You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 
Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 
Happy one month!
Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.
Happy one month.
You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.
You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 
“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 
“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 
“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 
Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.
With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 
It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 
Just like any other day...
❁ ❁ ❁
Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 
Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 
But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 
“Hello?”
“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.
“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”
“What? When?”
“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 
“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 
“Amazing! Thank you so much.”
She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 
You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.
❁ ❁ ❁
8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 
Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 
“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 
To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 
“You forgot your flowers.”
“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 
“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”
His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 
“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 
“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”
“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 
“Can I trust you?”
His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”
“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 
Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 
You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?
His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 
So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 
Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 
Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 
Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 
No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 
Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 
“You’re very good at this.”
He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 
“What are you doing?”
“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 
Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 
“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 
“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 
You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”
“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 
You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”
His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 
“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 
“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 
In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 
“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 
“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 
“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 
“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 
“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 
You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?
“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”
“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 
His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 
He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”
“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”
He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 
You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 
“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”
“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 
“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”
“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”
You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 
“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 
“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”
His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 
“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.
“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”
“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 
“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”
“I don’t know if I-“
“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 
“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”
“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 
“Wait. Almost there.”
“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 
Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 
“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”
And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.
He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 
A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 
But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 
“Good morning, Sharon.” 
“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”
“What? Until when?”
“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”
“Do you know what she has?”
“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”
Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 
“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 
“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 
“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 
Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 
“Hello?”
Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 
“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?
“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 
“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?
“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”
You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”
“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”
“I’ll see you.”
And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.
So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 
First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 
It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.
His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 
The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 
Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 
You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 
His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 
He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 
“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 
“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 
“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.
You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.
Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.
Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 
You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 
In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.
Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–
*smack*
His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 
“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”
“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 
It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 
“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”
He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”
You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 
“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”
Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 
“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 
He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 
He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”
“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 
Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”
He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 
His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 
The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 
Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.
I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!
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harstyle · 3 months
Text
the styles’ nanny
Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 7.3k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet
A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!
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Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.
And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.
It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.
But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.
“Y/N, did you hear me?”
“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”
She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.
“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”
Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.
“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”
Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.
Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”
“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”
He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”
“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”
Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.
“Okay, thank you.”
“No problem, love.”
“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”
“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”
Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.
But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”
“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”
Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”
“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”
“Please, I just want ice cream.”
It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.
“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”
He merely shook his head.
Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.
“What’s wrong, bub?”
Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore
Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.
Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.
Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.
Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.
“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”
She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”
Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.
“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.
“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”
“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”
“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”
He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”
“Oh, are you sure?”
Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.
“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”
In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.
Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.
“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”
“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”
“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”
“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”
He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”
And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.
Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”
She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.
She could probably indulge a little then, right?
“Yeah, I do.”
He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—
“Wait, no, I can do it.”
He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.
“You can now?”
“Yes.”
He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.
What the fuck was that?
Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.
It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.
So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.
And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.
A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.
It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.
“Daddy?”
Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.
Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”
He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.
“Y/N, you’re still here.”
She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”
He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.
“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”
Her stomach did another flip.
Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!
Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.
“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”
He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”
Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”
“Missed you, daddy.”
She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.
Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”
In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”
Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”
“Will you be here too, Y/N?”
Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.
But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”
To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”
Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”
“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”
“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”
It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.
After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”
Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”
“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”
She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”
She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.
“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”
She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”
He hummed in agreement.
She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.
“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
“Kay. Can I have a hug?”
“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”
“Night.”
Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.
“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”
“It’s my job to be good to him.”
“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”
“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”
The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.
So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.
She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”
His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”
“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”
It was a lie, of course it was.
“Fine.”
As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.
Shit.
Y/N was crying.
She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?
And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.
Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.
She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.
There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.
But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.
“Y/N?”
She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
What had she done?
“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”
“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“
“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”
“The viper.”
“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”
“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.
When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.
“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”
He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.
“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.
He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.
After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”
And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.
“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.
“Harry, I’m sor—“
“Drink the water.”
She almost flinched at his angry tone.
Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”
All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.
“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”
Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.
In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”
She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?
“What?”
“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”
The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.
He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.
Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”
Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it
“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”
He truly did have a point there, she supposed.
But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”
“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”
“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.
“What do you mean?”
He couldn’t be so daft, could he?
“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”
That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.
She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”
“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”
He was probably right about that.
“Okay.”
As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.
He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.
“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”
“Um, if you have something?”
She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.
He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”
Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”
Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.
When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”
Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.
Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.
“You’re really nice t’me.”
“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”
“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.
What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.
He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.
It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.
He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.
There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.
It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.
He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.
He would lie awake until sunrise.
Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.
God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.
After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.
“God, Y/N, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”
“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.
He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.
Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.
He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.
“I— are you okay?”
It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”
“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“
His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”
Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.
But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.
“So why bring it up?”
“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?
“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”
And that… well, was partly right.
“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”
Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.
“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“
“I know that—“
��Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”
Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.
There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.
“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”
“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”
Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”
He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”
“You act like I don’t know that!”
“Evidently you don’t.”
“Yes I d—“
“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”
It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.
Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.
Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.
“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”
She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.
She’d fucked up so badly.
And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.
-
part two!
And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!
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tenelkadjowrites · 3 months
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The Heart's Filthy Lesson - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
🪓Summary: Your best friend has always been dedicated to you. But isn't everyone's best friend like that?
🪓Word count: 15k
🪓Playlist for this fic can be found here.
🪓Genre & warnings: one shot smut. (twisted) best friends to lovers. unreliable narrator. elements of horror. descriptions of stalking against the reader, violence against others (not the reader), unhealthy relationship dynamics. dom hwa. dirty talk. underwear is torn off reader. oral sex, reader receiving. choking, reader receiving. unprotected sex. creampie.
this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.
               You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to get it into the lock without dropping your overstuffed bag. Why do I overpack so much? You curse inwardly. Every time, you swear that only essentials will be packed. Somehow, that ends up meaning enough underwear for a month and clothes for three different outfits a day even when you’re just visiting family.
               You manage to get the key in the lock, practically tumbling inside your small apartment on the third story. Unceremoniously dumping your bag on the floor, you let out a long sigh. Like all family visits, you’re glad for them but also socially drained.
               Padding into your living room, you wince a little. Way too much light in here, you think, I thought for sure I closed the blinds when I left. You turn around, fighting off the urge to take a nap. The trip is catching up to you, leaving you tired.
               But you stand in the middle of the room, feeling a strange sense of unease. The living room looks entirely the same yet you cannot shake the sensation that something is different. It’s just cuz I thought I had closed the blinds. But the words ring hollow in your head.
               In the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, you can distantly hear the traffic outside and the neighbor upstairs moving something heavy around. Your eyes slowly look across your kitchen counters before landing on a small pile of mail.
               Curiously, you walk towards it, picking up the stack. There is a small sticky note stuck to the top with just a quickly drawn smiley face on it, the ink smeared into the paper on one side. Frowning, you peel it off and go through the mail. All of it is from when you were gone –
               A knock on the door makes you jump, pressing your hand against your chest for a second. The pile of mail drops back to the counter, scattering across it as you go to the door. You don’t check who it is. You already know.
               Opening the door, you find yourself face to face with your overly enthusiastic best friend.
               “Hey, I remembered you were supposed to be back around this time so I figured I’d come over to say hi.”
               “Hi, Seonghwa,” You say, already moving to the side to let him in.
               He glances over his shoulder at you while heading into the living room. “How was the trip? How was your family? Did you tell them that I said hi?” Every word is said quickly, as if they are all fighting for importance and can’t decide what order to pop out in.
               You push the door closed, trailing after him. You’ve known Seonghwa longer than anyone else in your life – he used to live next door where you befriended one another at just six years old. You went to the same high school, even the same college and when you decided to move to the city, so did he. You lived on different sides of the city at first until a year ago, when the apartment building finally had an opening and now he lived just one floor under yours. The two of you were a team – you knew everything about him and he never forgot a detail about you. Things were comfortable…although maybe a little too comfortable.
               You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “You brought my mail in.”
               He turns to look at you, smiling brightly. Seonghwa always had the same countenance – pleasant and happy. “Yeah, of course.”
               “I don’t remember giving you a key.”
               “Oh, your plant needs watering.” He leans over and touches the wilting leaves gently, already moving past the fact he let himself into your place without asking. “Want me to do it?” He looks up at you.
               You sigh, walking towards him. “Seonghwa,” You touch his hand gently, trying to get his attention.
               His expression falters just for a moment before guilt pops in behind his eyes. Seonghwa looks tired, although that isn’t new, because he’s always on his computer at all times of the day and night. He glances downward at where your fingers had grazed his skin for a split second. His profile is so familiar to you – the sharp curve of his jaw, the long nose, his perfectly plump lips hiding perfect teeth. This is the same man you’ve grown up with your entire life. You know objectively he is beautiful but you’ve known him for so long that it no longer catches your notice. From the time he got in trouble for pushing a kid bullying you at the playground when you were both eight years old to sneaking out while in high school to go drink to this very moment, he’s always been there. That’s why you dislike whenever you come off as though you’re lecturing him.
               “It was from two weeks ago. Remember? I had to let the plumbers in for you,” Seonghwa protests.
               “You’re supposed to give the key back,” You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers.
               He ducks his head, some of his hair falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at the sagging plant. “It’s in my place. I don’t keep it on me.”
               “Fine,” You sigh, “Next time, okay?”
               Seonghwa bites down on his bottom lip for a second before his eyes lock on yours. “It happened six months ago. I mean, don’t you think – I think I’ve done a good job at not crossing a boundary since then.”
               You hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation today. But maybe that is your own fault for constantly putting it off. It isn’t even that you’re mad at him anymore. But coming home late one night to find him passed out drunk in your bed after using your key to get in just felt like shattering a boundary. You took your key back after that, giving your best friend a dressing down even though he was apologizing profusely. 
               “I mean, you technically weren’t supposed to use the key to drop off my mail,” You point out.
               His cheeks flush. “I was trying to be helpful,” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your face.
               You sigh, knowing you’re going to give in. That is how it usually worked with Seonghwa. He was always the overzealous best friend, eager to help you even to the extent that it resulted in too much on his own plate.
               “I know,” You reply, “And I appreciate it.”
               His face lights up, all earlier guilt and tension erased immediately. Seonghwa immediately begins to pepper you with questions about the trip back home, leaving the earlier conversation about boundaries long passed. You aren’t sure if anything you said even sunk into his head. Likely not, you think.
               After all, you know Seonghwa so well. You know what sticks to him.
*
               “Hey!” The familiar chipper voice snaps you out of your mindless phone scrolling.
               It’s two days later, after work, and you’re meeting Seonghwa for a coffee. The key issue is long forgotten, overtaken by the daily events of life that naturally take more importance than your best friend helpfully bringing in your mail.
               He’s pushing through the crowd of people that have formed looking for a late afternoon caffeine boost. It had begun snowing earlier and there are a few snowflakes melting in his hair. His brown jacket hangs off his thin frame, the same jacket he’s had for easily a decade because he doesn’t care enough to buy a new one. It’s well worn, fraying at the seams near the elbows, and you’ve seen it against the backdrop of a multitude of different coffee shops.
               “Am I late?” He stands by the table, looking down at you, not paying attention to the man trying to get past him while carefully balancing two cups of coffee in his hands.
               “No. Even if you were, it’s okay. I was waiting for you before I got anything.”
               You move to get up but Seonghwa shakes his head quickly. “No, no,” He nudges you back in the seat gently, “I’ll go order for us. It’s too crowded.” He is looking in your eyes. “I know what you like.”
               He’s gone then, back in the crowd, moving towards the counter. You watch him go, turning your attention back to your phone. Ten minutes later, Seonghwa returns, handing you the coffee and sliding into the seat across from yours. The table is crammed in the corner, a clear attempt to try to fit more seats inside since the snow is coming down.
               “I’m getting sensory overload in here,” You remark when someone smacks your arm with their laptop bag on accident.
               “Do you want to go?” Seonghwa leans forward, “We can go if it’s too much.”
               “No, it’s fine,” You shake your head, “I should have given more consideration to the time, I guess. How are you?”
               He drums his fingers against the table while answering. “Fine. The usual. How was work?”
               “The usual too. That project I’ve been stuck working on finishes next week – ow,” You wince as someone else hits your arm while squeezing through the tight space between your table and the next.
               Seonghwa reacts like lightning, too quick for you to even say anything. His hand reaches for the strap of the man’s bag and he gives a sharp tug on it. “Hey!” He snaps and the man looks over his shoulder with wide eyes, “Pay attention to where you’re going!”
               “Seonghwa, it’s fine –”
                “I’d rather walk in the snow than be in here,” He says curtly, grabbing his coffee cup and gesturing for you to follow.
               You do, and out in the cold, let out a small sigh of relief. Alright, maybe the idea of leaving the crowded coffee shop was the right choice. The soft layer of snow that is forming across everything is ruined by the many feet trampling over it hurrying to get home after work.
               But you walk slowly along the sidewalk with Seonghwa, neither of you speaking for a few minutes. You glance out of the corner of your eye to find him looking at you.
               He clears his throat quickly and asks, “What were you trying to say in there?”
               “Oh, the project. It’s winding down next week. I’m relieved.”
               Someone cuts in between the two of you and when Seonghwa moves back closer, he is no longer looking in your direction. “Is the project leader still texting you outside of work?”
               You blink, a little surprised he remembers such a small detail from a few months ago. “Yeah, sometimes. But it isn’t anything unprofessional.”
               Seonghwa’s cheeks are slightly red from the cold. He is holding the coffee cup tightly for warmth. “He might ask you out when the project is done.”
               “Maybe,” You reply with a shrug, “We’ll see.”
               Your best friend falls silent. The look in his eyes is from a thousand miles away for a couple of seconds before it snaps back into focus. “Would you say yes?”
               “I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how I feel when it happens.” You hadn’t given it a lot of thought.
               There is another silence which is unusual for Seonghwa who usually fills the conversation easily. But he seems to be mulling something over and is lost in thought – a rarity.
               “What about you?”
               His head snaps up, looking at you. “What do you mean?”
               A lone snowflake lands on the bridge of his nose. You lean forward and brush it off. The gesture comes automatically, instilled from years of friendship. You’ve brushed a thousand snowflakes off his face and shoulders over the many winters spent hanging out.
               “That woman at the coffee shop was flirting with you a few weeks back,” You then frown, “But we haven’t been back since. We could’ve gotten you a date.”
               Seonghwa turns his face away from yours, slowing his pace down a little while watching the rush hour traffic grow larger on the road.
               “No, I’m good.”
               Coming to a stop at the crosswalk, you nudge his shoe with yours. “You haven’t been on a single date in ages.”
               “So?” He turns to look at you, his eyes wide and questioning.
               “Nothing, you just work a lot from home, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you to miss out something fun because of that.”
               “Trust me, I’m not. I just am not interested in awkward dates.” He bounces on the heels of his shoes for a couple of seconds until the crosswalk turns green and he takes off like a shot.
               This is typical of Seonghwa’s walking speed and you try to keep up. “Was I overstepping?”
               “No,” He replies swiftly, his energy bubbling underneath the surface, “But I had a string of very awkward dates all last year and I need a break from them.” He runs his fingers through his hair, still walking at a brisk pace.
               “Right, I get that. I didn’t mean to come off like I was lecturing –”
               Seonghwa stops suddenly, so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet. “You never come off like you’re lecturing,” He says, reaching out to help steady you, “I understand you just want what is best for me.”
               “Right,” The word sends up a tiny puff of air from the cold, “You’re in your apartment a lot except when you’re with me. That’s all.”
               Seonghwa’s hand is still on your arm but the grip is so loose that you can’t even feel it through the thick jacket. His nails are bitten to the quick. He lowers his hand once he knows you’re not going to fall over.
               He flashes a quick grin, the same expression you’ve seen a thousand times. Your shoulders relax, knowing he isn’t upset with you.
               “Is that so bad? Maybe I just wanna hang out with my best friend right now.”
               “No, there isn’t anything wrong with it. I just need to make sure you’re doing alright though. You’d do the same for me.”
               Seonghwa’s grin softens and he gently punches you on the shoulder. “Yeah, of course I would. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” He straightens up. “Now, come on. Enough discussing how I prefer to be indoors all day. Mental check-in complete. Ask me again in six weeks.”
               “Right,” You are smiling, your concerns about Seonghwa spending too much time alone now allayed.
               “Let’s get home, alright? I’m freezing.”
               The conversation resumes, the ebb and flow always the same, some topics circled back so often over the course of time that they feel more like well read books with their spines bent than anything exciting. But you like that with Seonghwa.
               With him, what you see is what you get.
*
               “Nope, not Mario Party,” Seonghwa shakes his head, stretched out on the couch in his apartment, “You turn into someone I don’t even know when you play that. Half the time, I think you’re gonna tear my face off.”
               You scoff. “Come on. That isn’t true.”
               “Yes, it is. Think about last time.”     
               Shifting awkwardly on the couch, you avoid his eyes. “Whatever,” You mumble, remembering cursing him out for stealing your star.
               It’s a week later and you’re trying to unwind from the stresses of work. The project finished yesterday which meant some relief. It is almost a routine now to pop over to Seonghwa’s, play a video game and unwind – to the point where neither of you ask to confirm, it just happens.
               His place is organized and tidy, in a way that you could never hope to replicate. A shelf lined with books is next to the TV, with another one filled with his Legos he builds to unwind. His computer with dual monitors is in the corner, the chair pushed out from where he hastily got up once work finished for the day. The apartment is comforting.
               Seonghwa gives you a knowing look and you drop the subject, aware he is right. He runs his fingers through his hair before turning his attention to the TV, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.
               “You hear from that client? The one who is clearly interested in you?” He asks suddenly, staring at the TV while booting up Netflix.
               Surprised, you glance at him and shift a bit in your spot on the couch. “He’s been texting me a bit.”
               Seonghwa makes a noncommittal noise although for one second, you swear his grip on the remote tightens. When he doesn’t say anything further, you’re unsure of where to take the conversation. He’s never shown much interest in who you’ve dated before – in fact, he’s always seemed bored hearing about them, to the point that you barely mention it. You wonder what makes this guy different but something in you holds back asking.
               “I gotta pee,” You say instead, and he just nods, swept up in whatever he’s thinking about.
               You head down the hall and into the bathroom. You’re about to sit down when you notice there is no toilet paper on the roll. Rolling your eyes, you open the cabinet under the sink and rummage around. Why does he never pay attention to this stuff? Better yet why are you surprised?
               The cabinet is as organized as the rest of his place but there is no sign of toilet paper. You try to remember if he stashes it elsewhere but nothing comes to mind. You think of your own cabinet under the bathroom sink and wince. Seonghwa has always been the more organized of you two. You’re lost in thought, pushing aside some cleaning supplies when your eyes land on a strange small black box pushed all the way to the back.
               It’s slim and almost glossy, completely out of place to be shoved underneath the bathroom stick. You chew on your bottom lip, curiosity nipping at your brain. Seonghwa isn’t the one for secrets. There’s probably Pokémon cards or something inside that he misplaced.
               But you still reach for the box, sitting down on the bathroom floor and opening it quietly. Guilt is poking at you for snooping through your best friend’s stuff. You can’t explain what is even driving you to open something personal that belongs to Seonghwa.
               But you do.
               There isn’t a lot inside.
               One pair of underwear. A house key. A small bracelet.
               Your pair of underwear. Your house key. Your small bracelet.
               You stare at the items, not comprehending what is in your lap. The pair of underwear is green lace, one of your cuter pairs, and it went missing months ago. Around the time I found him passed out drunk in my bed, a small voice in your head points out.
               The memory of the night replays. Coming home late, finding Seonghwa fast asleep in your bed, flopped on his stomach, wrapped up in the bedsheets as if it was his own room. You were frustrated at the lack of respect for your personal space. Seonghwa always had a tendency to do such things; back in college, more than once you’d wake up to him in your dorm with a cup of coffee in hand, somehow getting past security.
               But you snapped that night, under a lot of work pressure and startled at finding a shape in your bed in the middle of the night. Waking Seonghwa up, you angrily asked him what he had been doing. Seonghwa slurred his words, said he was drunk and apologized. He sounded panicked and ashamed but that didn’t stop you from demanding your key back. You hadn’t talked to him for three days while he left you a ton of texts and messages apologizing and explaining himself. It was the longest you had gone without speaking to him.
               Back in the present, you gingerly reach for the pair of underwear. Why would he take this? Your cheeks feel hot looking at it. Was he…doing something with this? Surely, that would be impossible. For a split second, your brain flashes a mental image of Seonghwa with his hand wrapped around the underwear as he – nope, no.
                You drop it back into the box, opting for the bracelet instead. It’s a thin fake gold band with a tiny cubic zirconia diamond in it. You wore it over ten years ago, one night at the summer festival. Your boyfriend at the time just broke up with you and all you wanted to do was stay inside until Seonghwa prodded you to go with him. You wore the bracelet then, with a sun dress, trying to make an effort to look presentable. Seonghwa won a stuffed animal at one of the booths and gave it to you. You don’t remember misplacing the bracelet.
               The house key winks knowingly at you.
               You shut the box, shoving it hurriedly back in its spot as your heart threatened to explode in your chest. Your head is spinning, wondering what the hell to do. Do you confront him about it? That is what you’re supposed to do. But what do you even say?
               You turn on the faucet, splashing cold water on your face while trying to gather your thoughts. Could it be that Seonghwa had some sort of crush on you? That is absurd. Keeping the bracelet would mean it has been a minimum of ten years he’s been pining for me. It could be longer. That’s enough to drive anyone mad.
                In any case, you needed to get out of his apartment and try to calm yourself down. You had a tendency not to think very rationally when emotional and it would be better to put some space away from Seonghwa until you figured out how to broach the subject.
               You open the bathroom slowly, trying to collect yourself and steady your breathing. When you enter the living room, Seonghwa is idly watching TV. He glances over at you and then frowns.
               “What’s wrong?”
               So much for looking casual.
               “My boss texted me and there’s some crisis with another client. I need to pop back home and get on a Zoom meeting.” You don’t even know where the lie came from but it leaves your mouth smoothly.
               Seonghwa sounds exasperated when he replies with, “You’re kidding.”
               “No, sorry. You know how it is. Big girl job.”
               “Yeah, fine, I get it.”
               You are trying to get to the door without asking him what the fuck but he meets you there, his hand on the door knob. You force yourself to look at him directly – this face you know so well, this face you’ve stared at a thousand times. The same face that won you a stuffed animal at the festival ten years ago. Nothing has changed.
               “I’ll message you later,” You say.
               “Alright,” He opens the door, “Later.”
               It closes behind your back, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there for a few moments.
               You have no proof but there’s the sensation of Seonghwa looking through the peephole at you.
*
               Not seeing your best friend for two days does nothing to help you figure out how to broach the subject of the tiny black box underneath his bathroom sink. By the time you see Seonghwa Sunday afternoon, the only idea you have is to avoid the discussion completely and opt to veer the conversation into you going on a date with someone.
               The sun is lazily cutting across the floor of your living room while you pretend to be making coffee in the kitchen. Seonghwa is talking animatedly from the couch about something that happened the day before. You’re not really paying attention. Your mind keeps flashing to the night he fell asleep in your bed, picturing him rummaging through your underwear drawer to take a pair and slipping it into his pocket. You’re remembering the way he comforted you after getting dumped, convincing you to go to the festival. You can see him against the backdrop of the small white bulbs that were hanging off the booths, running his fingers through his hair while explaining with easy confidence how he could win a stuffed animal.
               “Hey,” Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the memories and you blink, looking up from your place at the kitchen counter to see him standing in front of you, “Are you even listening to me?”
               “I’m going on a date Tuesday night,” You blurt out without preamble, “With the client. The project that just finished.”
               Seonghwa looks thrown before clearing his throat and replying, “Alright.”
               But you keep going. “I think we have a real connection. It could turn into something.”
               For the briefest moment, Seonghwa’s face goes startingly blank. There is nothing behind his eyes, and no expression on his face. Then he snaps back into focus, his hands pressing flat against the counter. “That’s good.”
               You’re lying, of course, you doubt anything will come from this date. But if Seonghwa is harbouring some sort of intense crush on you, maybe showing him you’re into someone else will fix things. Knock the thoughts out of his head, redirect his focus to something else. Anything to get out of having a horrible discussion with him that could ruin the most solid friendship you’ve ever had in your entire life.
               “Yeah, I can let you know how it goes,” You say a little too quickly, “Might be good for me. Like, I haven’t had a relationship in a couple of years. I feel ready for one now.”
               Seonghwa pushes himself away from the counter, turning his back to you. “That’s great.” He plops back down on the couch. “Remind me again what I know about this guy.”
               You decide to take this opportunity to really sell this man, to truly drive it home that this could be someone that you will be smitten with. You spend the next five minutes prattling on about him. At one point, you sit on the couch, on the opposite side of where Seonghwa is, still enthusiastically talking about a man you’ve barely thought of the entire time you worked with him. 
               Seonghwa’s face is slightly tilted with his arm propped up on the side of the couch, hand resting against his cheek. He’s looking at the wall, eyes distant. You’re trying to stay the course and see your speech through while at the same time studying his face for any sign that this onslaught of information is settling in. But there isn’t anything, not even a clenching of his jaw.
               Running out of breath, you stop speaking and the room lapses into silence. Seonghwa stirs, turning his face in your direction. There it is once more – the same blank stare from earlier. Nothing behind his eyes, gone in a flash, replaced with the same Seonghwa you knew. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling a little off kilter. There is something unfamiliar in that blankness, something that is brand new ground in the relationship with your best friend.
               “Well, you sound excited,” He says casually, “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”
               Your shoulders relax slightly. Are you overthinking everything? If Seonghwa was upset, you’d notice, right? You’ve seen him angry or annoyed a thousand times before. But the box still tugs at your sleeve. There’s a reason he has that. There is a reason he kept the underwear, the bracelet, the key. But the idea of asking your best friend why he has a box with such contents makes you want to jump off a cliff.
               And Seonghwa is…comforting. Maybe it is selfish to think of him that way and to want nothing to change, especially if things are different at his end. But he’s been in your life for so long that the idea of him potentially not wanting to be around you anymore due to a crush forming makes your anxiety spike. He’s been there through everything…You can get stuff back on track. You can fix things without mentioning the box.
               You’re sure of it.
*
               Typically, the process of getting ready for a date is somewhat fun and enjoyable. You tend to overthink your outfit but other than that, you like listening to music, doing your makeup and wondering how the night will go.
               This date doesn’t feel like that, mostly because the entire time you’re getting ready, your mind keeps going to Seonghwa.
               You’ve been overanalyzing his behavior since your Oscar winning performance convincing him this date is important. It’s been a few days since your speech and he seems exactly the same. Maybe a little more reserved if you truly look at the small details. But that could be work related, you argue, maybe I need to stop being so self-absorbed and think that everything has to do with me.
               But then you think back to the box with your underwear, bracelet and key. Any rational person would just talk to their best friend about it. Instead, you’re forcing yourself to go on this date in hopes of avoiding it because you’re being selfish, putting your feelings before his and wanting everything to remain normal.
               Your phone suddenly rings, startling you out of your brooding. It’s your client – no, your date.
               “Hello?”
               “Hey, listen,” His voice comes out fast and urgent, “I am so sorry but I’m going to have to cancel.”
               “What? Why?” It comes out way more demanding than intended but you had been banking on this…
               “Some fucking psycho ruined my car! It’s all smashed up! Like, it’s completely fucking ruined!” The client’s voice pitches higher in anxiety and an undercurrent of fear.
               You grip the phone tightly while exclaiming, “What?!”
               “My tires are slashed, my windows are blown out! The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it! Even the insides are cut up…Christ, I gotta go, okay? I’m really sorry. We’ll reschedule, I promise.”
               “No, of course, I understand. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that happened,” You say in shock, “That’s horrible.”
               “Thanks. Again, really sorry. I’ll call you, okay?”
               The call ends as suddenly as it began. You stare at your phone for a few seconds, feeling a wave of sympathy for your client. It would be horrible to deal with your car getting messed up like that. But this meant the date was pushed back…
               Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wondered what to do now. Normally when plans fell through, you’d hang out with Seonghwa. If he found out the date got cancelled and you didn’t come over, he could think you’re avoiding him. But showing up all dolled up for a date that had nothing to do with him could be rubbing his face in things too, couldn’t it?
               “I’m so sick of overthinking,” You mumble, leaving your bathroom and trying to find a hoodie to tug over your outfit, yanking it on over your head, adjusting it a bit and then grabbing your bag, “I don’t care.”
               You’re lying – you care more than you’d like to admit, both about Seonghwa and whatever is going on with his feelings towards you and the fact deep down you’re aware that you are handling this poorly.
               A few minutes later, you’re knocking on the front door of Seonghwa’s apartment. While you do have a key to his place, you weren’t going to violate that boundary even though you knew he wouldn’t see it that way.
               No one answers.
               You knock again but this time you go, “Hey, Seonghwa?”
               Now, you can hear shuffling inside the apartment followed by a muffled, “Just a second!”
               The door opens a second later. Seonghwa has clearly just gotten out of the shower. His hair is still soaking wet, dripping onto his black t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out but all that does is send some water droplets flying to the floor.
               “What, were you taking a swim?” You joke.
               His eyes land on you. “Wasn’t expecting you to come by. I thought you had that date.”
               “I did but he had to cancel,” You reply as Seonghwa moves to let you inside, “He called me and told me like…his car got fucked up.”
               “His car got fucked up,” He deadpans, raising one eyebrow, “Are you sure he isn’t lying?”
               You scoff. “Seriously? Who would lie about that? He told me someone slashed his tires, broke his windows, banged up the doors and shit. So, he needed to go deal with it. We’re gonna reschedule.”
               Seonghwa runs one hand through his hair again, seemingly unbothered by how wet it is. Even his t-shirt is damp, clinging to his frame. He flexes his fingers on his right hand, an action that is unfamiliar to you. The muscles in his arms move. You’re staring and don’t know why. It’s like he was mid shower when he got out or something, you think.
               “So, I’m the backup plan?” He asks and there’s a strange edge to the sentence, stripping it of any humor.
               You blink, thrown by the tone. “No, I didn’t…”
               But Seonghwa smiles then, and his voice is back to normal. “It’s cool. I wasn’t doing anything tonight. We can hang out. You wanna watch TV?”
               You nod, trailing after him into the comfort of his living room. He goes into the kitchen, opening the fridge and leaning forward to try to find something to drink. His t-shirt lays flat across his back, his black hair curling against the nape of his neck, still dripping onto the tile. You stare at him for a few seconds before settling in on the couch. You’re suddenly acutely aware of the dress you’re wearing although most of it is covered up by the hoodie. He didn’t seem to notice your outfit or makeup anyway. Be serious. He’s seen you on dates a lot of times.
               There is the sound of a beer opening as Seonghwa returns to the couch, tossing you a bottle of water as he plops down next to you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes as he takes a swig from the beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing while swallowing.
               “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin the couch with your hair dripping everywhere?”
               He tilts his face in your direction and then rests his head directly on the back of the couch. You roll your eyes.
               “Get a towel.”
               “Nah, I’m good.”
               “You’re just trying to annoy me now.”
               “Yup.”
               The exchange is so normal and familiar that you don’t even realize you’ve sunken onto the couch next to him as he flips through the channels. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, so comfortable that you forget the box stuffed away in Seonghwa’s bathroom for the first time since discovering it.
               Apparently, he is comfortable too because at some point, you realize you’re hearing soft snoring. Surprised, you look over at him. He’s dozed off, eyes closed, chest rising and falling peacefully. His mouth is open slightly, head to the side, blissfully unaware of his wet hair. Seonghwa often kept odd hours and it wasn’t so strange for him to fall asleep as soon as he got even mildly relaxed.
               Mixed emotions are mingling inside your chest – a concoction of anxiety, peacefulness, and a sense of impending doom. In this quiet moment, it is as though you’re standing on a beach watching a tsunami approach. You’ve been trying so hard to run from the change that swept in with discovering that tiny box underneath the bathroom sink.
               You want to lean over and wake Seonghwa up, just ask him what is going on. But you still balk at the conversation and at tarnishing this moment where everything feels so normal.
               You wonder if the box is still under the sink.
               Maybe you imagined it.
               With one last glance at Seonghwa, you get up. Even though you’re walking to the bathroom, you cannot shake the guilt feeling swooping over your chest. You glance over your shoulder. He’s still perfectly asleep.
  Seonghwa’s bedroom door is next to the bathroom, slightly ajar. You glance inside out of habit. His bed is perfectly made with a couple of framed posters on the walls. There isn’t anything out of place but…
Maybe it’s the way the light from the hallway lays across the carpet or maybe you’re spending too long looking inside but before you completely pass by something shines for a split second. You slow down and then stop, hovering in the doorway to his room. Your heart is beating quickly now.
One final look in Seonghwa’s direction to ensure he’s sleeping sends you into his bedroom. Now who is breaking boundaries? A little voice in your head remarks cruelly. You cross the carpet towards what caught your eye – the glint of something similar to a knife. The bathroom towel has been quickly thrown over whatever it is.
Bending down, your fingers hover over the towel. Your entire body is screaming for you just to leave and get out of there. You’re snooping, you’re keeping secrets, you’re posturing as if Seonghwa has done something unforgiveable but meanwhile you’re not doing anything better –
You snatch the towel off the object and your heart falls into a pool of ice water.
An axe is laying on the floor. You stare at it while the hair on the back of your neck stands up. “The doors have these deep gash marks in the side like some lunatic took a fucking axe to it!” The words of your date ring in your head with deafening volume. You think about Seonghwa asking for information about the client and how you babbled endlessly in order to convince him this date was real. You knocked on the door and he hadn’t been ready for you, soaking wet, barely toweled off as if he had been busy…what, hiding the axe under the towel?
This is insane. Do you realize what your brain is jumping to? What are you trying to suggest? That Seonghwa went out to this guy’s place and ruined his car? Do you know what that implies? It implies he’s not just crushing on you. It implies there’s something…wrong. There’s something wrong with him. That’s what you’re thinking about your best friend right now.
The anxiety hits you full force in the chest then. You can hardly breathe, quickly covering up the axe and stumbling to your feet. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t even know what to say to him. The most important thing is getting out of here –
“What are you doing?”
You almost jump out of your skin, whirling around to see Seonghwa’s figure in the doorway. His face is half in shadow and one hand is on the door frame. You take a step back, almost tripping over the axe while straightening up.
“I thought you were sleeping,” You mumble and all efforts to make your voice sound normal fail.
“I woke up.” His voice is different, altered.
Seonghwa takes a step into the room and his face is clearer now. Yet there is that same look you have seen flashes of before. The complete emptiness of expression, the utter blankness behind his eyes. There is nothing familiar about him now.
“Now,” He says in a cold voice, “Who is the one breaking boundaries?”
You swallow hard while your brain fumbles for an excuse. But instead of speaking one, what leaves your mouth is, “Why do you have an axe?”
“Is it illegal to own one?”
“No but it’s a little strange to have it on your bedroom floor underneath a towel.” You try to make it come out like a lighthearted joke but your voice quivers, giving you away.
Seonghwa takes another step. In exchange, you back up, over the axe and closer to his night table. It seems ridiculous to be afraid of your best friend. But it also is ridiculous to have a secret box in the bathroom and an axe on the floor.
His right hand flexes and his jaw is clenched. You get the feeling he is trying to wrangle himself under control – but from what? He has all the qualities of the Seonghwa you know but it’s like someone smeared him with a layer of paint and distorted him.
You try again. “Why do you have the axe, Seonghwa?”
He doesn’t answer. Just moves closer. You’re cornered now. He’s near enough to touch, to grab his shirt and demand he answer you – this man you don’t know, this man you’re realizing you might not know at all.
“Why are you in my room?” Seonghwa makes a small noise, a tsk tsk, before adding, “Gonna have to ask for my key back, I think. Didn’t we just discuss boundaries?”
Up this close, you can better see the blankness in his eyes. You can smell the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash. Your mind is telling you to run but your heart is whispering that this is your best friend, just hug him and talk it out. You don’t know what to do.
You say Seonghwa’s name so softly, just a wisp of a thing against the boiling emotions that are brimming to the surface inside him. “Why do you have some of my things under your bathroom sink?”
Seonghwa recoils, eyes widening in surprise. Your brain tells you to push past him, take this chance and run. But your feet don’t listen. Even now, you want to hear him out. You’re desperate to prove this all some fucked up misunderstanding.
You keep going. “That bracelet. From the night of the festival. And my….my underwear. Why do you have those things? My date calls me, says his car got trashed and that it looks like an axe was taken to the sides and then you’re scurrying around when I knock, hide an axe under a towel. Where were you earlier? Seonghwa, where were you earlier? Why do you have those things? Tell me. If you don’t want me to walk out of here, tell me. If you don’t want to fuck up the friendship, tell me.”
He tilts his face away from you, eyes glassy, looking at nothing. He’s grinding his teeth, something else you’ve never seen him do. Seonghwa’s profile is striking but no longer comforting. When he looks back at you, your lower back nudges into the night table and your hands grip the edge, staring at him.
“I want to fuck up the friendship. I’ve always wanted to fuck up the friendship,” He declares.
You shake your head. “You don’t mean that. That’s not how things are with us –”
“That’s always been how things are with us!” He shouts suddenly, loud enough to make you flinch.
“No! No, Seonghwa, that isn’t true –”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” His eyes are alive now, twisted, no longer blank but not belonging to him either. He’s so close to you now, dangerously so. The warmth of his body is seeping into yours. The rage is swimming off him, strong enough to knock you over. You have never seen Seonghwa so angry before…and certainly never at you.
“I’m not, I’m not lying,” You plead, wanting to touch him but too afraid of making things worse, “I’m not lying. I was just – I was just trying to understand. The box under the sink and the axe…”
“You’re a smart girl, stop pretending like you don’t know,” Seonghwa growls out, “You know why I have those things under the sink.”
“The bracelet –”
Seonghwa is bristling with an intense energy as he replies, “From the festival night! See, you remember. You knew immediately where it was from. It slipped off your wrist when you were at one of the games, landed in the dirt. I took it. I took it because that was the night I thought ‘maybe’. I thought maybe you’d realize how badly I wanted you. And I think you did realize it. But you looked the other way. I love you but fucking hell, you look the other way when anything might change. But I’m patient. I can wait. I can take care of things and I can wait.”
I love you he had said, so effortlessly, so easily. The air is knocked out of your lungs by his casual admission. Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice nor care he said it. He just stated it as though it was a fact, like the sun rising every morning. He runs his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed in memories.
“The underwear, do I gotta explain that? Like I said, you’re smart. You know. I didn’t think you were coming home that night. I thought you were out, picked up by a guy or something. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I had shoved the underwear in my pocket before you got there and it just felt so damn good to be in your bed. Everything smelled like you and just…it was just a lot, you know?” His eyes land on you. “It was wrong to lie, tell you I was drunk. It was the fastest thing I could think of.”
“You lied to me?”
“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says seriously and you realize he believes lying about being drunk was the worst thing he did that night, not using your key or stealing your underwear.
“You’re – you’re sorry? You violated my boundaries, you slept in my bed, you stole my…and then you lied to me,” You reply aghast, “It’s like I don’t even know you, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa is starting to look anguished now. He goes to reach for you, thinks twice and drops his hands to his sides before taking a step back, carefully skirting around the axe. Then he stops, considering it before picking it up and tossing it onto the bed, making you flinch again.
“Don’t act like that,” Seonghwa says sternly, pointing to you, “Don’t do that. It’s me, alright? It’s me. You’ve known me since we were kids. I’m still the same person.”
You swallow hard, unable to reply.
He continues to talk, pacing the room. “Listen, for how long I’ve been in love with you, I think – I think I’m doing alright. I’ve never done anything bad to you. I have always had your back. That one asshole back in college – that professor. The science one. Remember? I made sure to stop that shit before it got out of hand. He was out of bounds asking you out. That’s wrong. You’re a – you’re a student.”
The floor is unsteady underneath your feet. You’re staring at Seonghwa as he paces, wondering if you’re going to faint. “That was you? He couldn’t even come back to work after that. He needed physical therapy. His legs…”
“Okay, in my defense,” He holds out one hand to ward off your criticism, “In my defense, I didn’t realize until later I maybe shouldn’t have brought the bat down so hard.”
Your eyes fall to the axe. You’re almost afraid to ask.
But Seonghwa follows your gaze and he immediately makes a noise of protest. “I didn’t lay a hand on that guy.”
“But…but his car…”
“So what? It’s a car. Which he thought was more important than you seeing that he cancelled the date, by the way,” He is talking so quickly that it is hard to follow his words, “You gave me so much information about him and this idiot – I mean, he’s a real idiot, alright? He had so much public information about himself. I found his address in like, two minutes. I mean, this is not the sort of guy you want to be with. He’s too stupid for you.”
You’re feeling dazed now like you got hit with the axe instead of the client’s car. “How did you not get caught?”
“He doesn’t live in the city. Lives in the suburbs, some big fancy ugly house with a private garage. Slipped in, slipped out.” A thought strikes him and Seonghwa moves towards you, holding his hands out to calm you down as if you’re a scared deer. “But I didn’t hurt him. I wasn’t going to hurt him. You seemed to really like the moron. I just wanted to see how badly he wanted to go on a date with you. If his material items were more important than seeing you.”
Thunderstruck, you reply, “Seonghwa, you trashed his fucking car.”
He scurries over, extremely close to you once again. He looks so warm and inviting again, earnest as ever as he goes, “And he picked it over you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me.”
You can only stare at him, unable to reply. Too much is happening. There is too much new information occurring at once. And the way Seonghwa is standing there, looking so open and honest – the polar opposite of earlier when he came into the bedroom, is making things confusing.
Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, his voice a soft murmur while studying your face. “Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve protected you from is because I love you. I’ve always loved you. The entire reason I exist is to love you. I’d follow you to the end of the earth. I’d follow you into hell. Some part of you had to know that. You felt it, didn’t you?”
Your breathing is quick and shallow. You’re grateful for the barrier of the hoodie because you’re acutely aware of how close you are to your best friend. You’re thinking about him moving to the city, and then into your building. You’re thinking of all the various strange occurrences you tried to steadfastly ignore – people getting injured after upsetting you, job interviews that felt horrible only for them to offer you a position, Seonghwa up all hours of the night on his computer looking exhausted and claiming it was just work, the beleaguered quick expression on his face whenever you mentioned him going on a date…
Seonghwa makes a small noise in the back of his throat. “You’re scared. It’s okay. You never liked change and you were never good with your feelings.”
You squeeze your eyes closed while saying, “I thought you’d think I was smitten with him. That you’d…you’d drop this. And we could go back to normal. I didn’t think you’d…”
“Go back to normal?” He scoffs, “What is normal for you? Ignoring what is right in front of you?” Very slowly and carefully, he brings the back of his hand to your cheek, gently brushing it along your skin. The touch makes your heart thud violently in your chest. Seonghwa looks at you tenderly. “I would be so good to you. I’m a perfect fit for you.”
“Seonghwa…” You aren’t sure if his name is a curse, a prayer or just a whimpered plea to let things stay the same.
He is close enough to your body now that you know what is going to happen next. You should push him away, get out of here and call the police on him.
But you don’t.
Instead, you allow Seonghwa to kiss you.
Your mouth opens underneath his, tasting your best friend in a way that is entirely new. The sensation of his lips on yours is dizzying in the most twisted way possible. Seonghwa’s hand goes to the back of your neck as the kiss grows more intense. His tongue is in your mouth and he makes a tiny noise – like some small bit of him is finally finding relief. You aren’t even sure if you’re breathing, too swept up by the mind-bending things that have occurred in the last ten minutes. As the kiss deepens, you tilt your head to the side, your tongue against his now.
There is a small voice in the back of your head quietly asking you what the fuck are you doing? Not only is this Seonghwa of all people but he’s obviously mentally unstable. But there is a heat swooping through your body and there is a need cracking through something inside you that is made worse by the fact you’re thinking about how he’s always had your back since first meeting.
Your hand is gripping the bottom of his t-shirt. You aren’t sure whose ragged breathing you’re hearing but certainly it cannot be yours because you must’ve died ten minutes ago. That’s the only logical explanation for why you’re now desperately kissing Seonghwa; it just simply couldn’t be happening like this.
The heat is unspooling in your chest now, dropping to your thighs. Seonghwa makes another quiet noise while kissing you, so fragile yet tense, and it is in that noise that the desire and fear smash together and overwhelm you.
You push him away with a small gasp, wiggling free from the confined space and placing your hand against the wall to steady yourself.
“I can’t,” You gasp out – although is directed to you or your best friend?
Looking over your shoulder at Seonghwa, he’s staring at you with blown out pupils while his chest rises and falls rapidly.
“You can’t what?” He drawls coldly, “You can’t what?”
You shake your head while saying, “I should be calling the police on you. You’ve hurt people. You’ve damaged people’s property.”
“Oh, please!” His mood shifts quickly again, his tone hostile. He approaches you, so close again, enough to see that his lips are slightly wet from the kissing. “Stop pretending. Stop pretending you don’t feel it.”
But it’s too much – all of it. You shake your head, afraid of…of what? Seonghwa? No, something else. Something worse.
You’re afraid of yourself.
“I can’t – I have to go,” You say, pushing past him, “I can’t do this.”
In all your years of friendship with him, you’ve never run out of his apartment. There has never been any reason to. But you leave Seonghwa in his bedroom with the axe on the bed, quickly scampering down the hallway. You cast a glance over your shoulder to see if he is following.
But he isn’t.
And you’re not sure how you feel.
*
               There is no sleep that night, only replaying the entirety of your friendship with Seonghwa like a horrible movie in your mind. You try picturing him taking the bat to that teacher’s legs but it is an impossible thing to imagine. You wonder what else he’s done. He’s been off, slinking around in the night, breaking into your apartment, sleeping in your sheets.
               You roll onto your side, staring at the edge of your bed. What is Seonghwa doing right now? Is he thinking of you? Most likely, since it has become clear that all he thinks about is you. He isn’t a good fit for you. Not like me. You get it? Not like me. His confession bangs around in your brain, refusing to give you any peace.
               You’re back at the festival, watching him win you the stuffed animal. Seonghwa’s head is cocked to the side as he thrusts the stuffed animal towards you, grinning. You try to refuse it at first but he shakes his head, saying he has no use for it. His hair is softly glowing against the lights. His fingers brush against your wrist while accepting the gift. You feel a sense of contentment knowing you’re here with him and not crying in your room alone.
               What happened the next day? Your ex’s dorm room goes up in flames due to an unattended candle left burning. You remember laughing about karma with Seonghwa.
               But it wasn’t karma.
Unless Seonghwa is your karma.
Your brain circles to the one thing you’ve been trying the most not to think about: the kiss. It is something you’ve never ever considered. Kissing Seonghwa had always been something firmly planted in the realm of impossibility. Anyone of sound mind would have called the police on him, and what did you do? You kissed him.
And even worse, something that you can only admit in the dead of night when the world is still and quiet: you liked it. You enjoyed the small noises of relief Seonghwa made, how hot his body temperature ran, how his t-shirt was gripped in your hand. You enjoyed his desperation. You enjoyed his dedication.
What the fuck did that say about you?
*
               You’ve never gone this long without hearing from Seonghwa. It’s been four days and you keep expecting him to show up. You think he might even be waiting in your apartment every time you come home from work. You almost wish he was. But he isn’t. His silence is throwing you off.
               Maybe Seonghwa is going to skip town, you think in the silence of your bedroom one night. He might think I’m going to turn him in and he’s trying to get ahead of it. The idea of Seonghwa vanishing is eating you up inside. You just want to talk to him.
               But now you feel like the stalker, taking the elevator one floor down to his place with his apartment key in your hand. Even if Seonghwa ignores me, I’m gonna go inside, you think, if he can do it to me, I can do it to him. I just want to talk to him. Your mind is flickering to the kiss. You’re thinking about staying up late with him watching movies over the years. You’re remembering how he stopped going to the coffee shop where that woman was interested in him. You can taste him in your mouth.
               At the front door of his apartment, you knock. Softly at first. No reply. You knock again. You stand there, debating what to do. The key is heavy in your hand.
               What Seonghwa has done is wrong. It’s not just illegal, it’s fucked up.
               But no one in your life has ever looked out for you in the way he did and continues to do.
               His hair, wet, dripping onto the tile in the kitchen. His right hand flexing. The blank look in his eyes. The axe on the bed.
               Still no answer.
               The key is heavy in the lock, and the tumblers sound like gunshots as you turn it. Quietly, you push open the door and creep inside Seonghwa’s apartment. There aren’t any lights on. Silence settles across the place like a blanket. You shut the door softly, wondering why you’re doing this.
               But still, you continue, creeping down the hallway towards his bedroom. The door is open and moonlight filters in through his bedroom window, leaving a small band of white along the hallway floor. You hover outside Seonghwa’s room before pushing the door open wider to allow yourself in.
He’s sprawled out on the bed, asleep. You stand next to it, looking at the way the moonlight lays across his face. His black hair is messy, lips parted slightly as his breathing goes slow and deep. Some logical part of you knows it is bizarre to be watching your best friend sleep like this after using his key. You’re not any better than he is when you act like this, it scolds you.
But you study Seonghwa’s face. The moonlight washes his skin out. His bone structure is so familiar to you but tonight, you’re thinking that once again he looks like someone scrambled his face up with a large brush and showed you it.
You raise your hand to reach for his shoulder. You’re going to wake him up. To ask him…what? You’re not sure. You just want to talk to him.
But before you can touch him, Seonghwa’s hand reaches out in a flash and grabs your wrist, his eyes startingly empty. You gasp in surprise and almost fall back but he is holding onto you too tightly.
“You’re creeping around my place again. I might start getting the wrong idea,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds taunting, almost venomous, “I might start thinking you want to fuck me.”
You’ve never heard him speak like that.
“I wanted to talk,” You reply but the words sound so absurd given you used his key and were watching him sleep.
“No, you didn’t,” He retorts.
No, you didn’t.
Seonghwa pulls you down and you kiss him again, open mouthed and desperate. You gasp from the force of his lips on yours as though he wants to devour you. He’s half sitting up, his hand on the back of your neck, and you’re getting in his lap now, straddling him as his tongue slips into your mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you make a noise and the kiss breaks.
His hands are cupping your cheeks. Seonghwa is looking at you almost deliriously. You hadn’t changed before coming over, just wearing a thin pair of sweatpants which means you can feel him stiff in his own pair, rock hard already, pressing against your thigh.
It’s you who speaks first.
“Why didn’t you talk to me the last few days?” It sounds almost plaintive.
He’s studying your face as his thumbs graze your cheeks. “I was waiting for you to either turn me in or come see me. Whatever ended up happening, I knew what it would mean.”
Breathlessly, you reply, “I wasn’t going to call the cops.”
His thumb is running over your lips. Seonghwa is looking at you mesmerized as if he has never seen something so wonderful as you in his lap. No one has ever looked at you in this way.
“Everything I did, I did because I love you,” His voice sounds like a raw wound, “Do you get that now?”
“I get it now,” You reply, knowing it’s wrong, knowing it’s fucked up, knowing you must have lost it.
His grip on your chin tightens ever so slightly as his eyes grow intense. “I was looking out for you from the moment we first met. I have always protected you. I’ve always made sure no one would harm you and if they did, I ensured they got what was coming to them. You deserve the best. You always have,” His voice is hurried, emotional, “I always have tried to give you the best because I love you.” His fingers dig into your skin. “Do you get that? Do you understand how much I love you? God, sometimes, you would look right through me and it felt like the entire world was ending. Like the ground was just shattering underneath my feet. But I never dreamt of leaving your side. I love you too much even if you didn’t feel the same. I told myself I would just protect you until I died.”
His voice is pure agony, a crackling and fizzling of the years that have gone by spilling out from in between his lips. “You looked at me with such fear the other day when you were in my room, staring at the axe. As if…as if I would ever hurt you. It’s so absurd. I would never do anything to you. Everything I do is because I love you.”
“Seonghwa,” You breathe out shakily, “Your hand…. it’s too tight…”
His eyes drop to the way he’s gripping your face and he releases his hand immediately, apologizing. Your head is swimming, torn between the logical mind telling you to leave and your irrational heart pulled by his words, his love, his promises and protection.
But he feels so good underneath you.
Your lips find his once more and whatever remains of Seonghwa’s speech dies in his mouth, lost in the groan he emits when you touch him again. He shifts slightly so that his leg is pressing against your pussy and you react by grinding down slightly on his knee, just enough to feel pressure against your clit. Your breath hitches as Seonghwa’s hands roam across your body – fondling your tits through your shirt, down across your hips before resting on your waist, pushing you down on his knee.
He’s kissing and biting your neck, hard enough to leave marks. Your hands are in his hair while you grind on his knee. At one point, he bites so hard that you gasp and you swear that he chuckles quietly. Seonghwa pulls away, looking at you with an expression of mingled lust and something more possessive.
“You’ll have to cover that up for your date.” His words are like stone but there is a flicker of toying amusement behind his eyes.
“What date?” You mumble, slightly dazed, too turned on by the way he’s touching you.
Seonghwa laughs, his teeth like daggers in the flash of moonlight before pulling you towards him. His kiss is greedy, one hand sliding under your t-shirt to cup your breast. You’re not wearing a bra, having come over here quickly without putting much thought into it. You can feel him smirk against your lips, as if the lack of one is telling him something you’re not privy to.
He pinches one of your nipples, making you jump. His other hand is on your lower back, steadying you on his knee as you continue to chase your orgasm. It’s evident Seonghwa isn’t going to try to stop you. He leans his head down, tugging your shirt up so that he can wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking on it hard. He switches to the other one, biting on it. You’re making soft noises, a cross between a plea and pleasure, dimly aware that to be doing this with Seonghwa means forever ruining the very friendship you were once so keen on saving. But maybe it never stood a chance. Maybe time just caught up with the dynamic.
When Seonghwa pulls away from your tits, he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to look at him while demanding, “I want to watch you cum. I want to see what you look like when you’re cumming. I’ve pictured it so many times in my head – no, don’t stop. Don’t slow down. There, good girl. Oh, do you like that? When I call you that? Is that gonna make you cum?”
You manage to nod even though his hold on you is tight. He looks different in the moonlight, different in the manner he’s openly staring at you without hiding his feelings. There’s an energy rolling off him that you’ve never felt before, something bubbling to the surface and spilling out – who he really is. Who he hid for so long. You feel like a small bug crawling into a Venus fly trap but you don’t want to turn away.
Your orgasm starts then, after Seonghwa calls you good girl in that voice of his that is dripping honey while hiding a dagger. You can’t believe that you just got off from grinding on your best friend’s knee but you barely have time to come down from the climax before he is slipping your shirt off over your head and tossing it to the side.
He’s groping your tits, rolling his thumbs across your nipples, in seemingly no hurry to fuck you. You thought the orgasm would bring clarity, give your mind release from the problematic thoughts you’ve been having about your messed up best friend and allow yourself to exit the situation.
But you feel no such thing. Instead, you find yourself removing his shirt as well before kissing him hungrily while your hands press against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and in one swift motion, he has you against the pillows underneath him.
Seonghwa is hot to the touch, his skin almost feverish as your fingers trail down his shoulders and along his arms. He’s moving downwards, his tongue across your nipples, down your stomach, obscenely leaving a trail of his salvia until he reaches your sweatpants.
Hooking his thumbs into the band, he yanks them down, leaving you in just your underwear. He nudges your thighs apart, pressing one finger along your pussy.
“You’re soaking wet,” Seonghwa drawls, sounding both pleased and tormented, “Underwear is fucking glued to your pussy.”
There is something fucked up and thrilling hearing your best friend talk like this. Seonghwa has always been so nice, so thoughtful over the years. Even when he would discuss his dates, he never dove into any details that would come off disrespectful. But now, mask off, it’s evident he’s perverted and unhinged on top of being psychotic. So why do I like it so much?
Seonghwa abruptly grabs the sides of your underwear and rips it with his hands. There is a loud tearing of fabric, his eyes alight while doing so, and then you’re exposed to him. Instinctively, you squirm, trying to close your legs. But Seonghwa is faster and his hands are on your thighs, keeping you open in front of him. His eyes look upwards to meet yours.
“No, I want to see how wet your pussy is from me. No hiding now. I’ve daydreamed about tasting your sweet cunt for far too long.” He turns his gaze back downward, one finger against your wet slit. “God, look at how fucking good you look,” The desperation in his voice is obvious, “What a perfect pussy.”
Seonghwa leans forward and his tongue is in your hole with a pornographic slurping noise as he tastes you for the first time. His nose bumps against your clit as he buries his face in between your thighs, trying to get his tongue as far as possible inside you.
“Fuck,” His words are muffled, “You taste so fucking good. You taste exactly how I knew you would. Can’t believe it took this long to taste your sweet cunt,” His hold on your thighs tightens, “Drives me fucking crazy knowing others had it before me. They didn’t deserve it.”
His tongue drags along your folds until he places a kiss on your clit, just enough to make you shiver. You know that you shouldn’t look down. It will make the entire situation feel entirely too real. But you don’t listen and instead prop yourself on your elbows slightly, just enough to look down at Seonghwa in between your legs.
His eyes catch yours and he lewdly flicks his tongue across your clit just to drive the point home that this is happening and you’re enjoying it. You sharply inhale, your hand grabbing onto the bedsheet. He closes his eyes, focusing on rolling his tongue over your clit slowly, just enough to drive you crazy. You cannot tear your gaze away from Seonghwa of all people doing this to you, making you feel this good. In the moonlight, his shoulders almost glow, and some of his hair has fallen in front of his eyes.
While Seonghwa is working your clit, he slips one finger inside your hole, meeting no resistance from how wet it is. You squirm, head rolling back a little from the new sensation. Still, he doesn’t miss a beat, continuing his soft licks on your clit while pumping his finger. Your eyes flutter closed. It had been a long time since someone ate your pussy this good. It is just fucked up that it’s your best friend.
Seonghwa pulls his finger out of you, eliciting a whine that would be embarrassing in any other case but he quietly shushes you. “Needy girl, you want my tongue back on your clit? Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
You look down at him, your cheeks warm. His eyes are devious, a smirk on his face, making his cheeks stand out more than usual as he shakes his head to get his hair out of his face.
You nod and he looks gravely serious. “No, tell me. I want to hear you tell me.” His voice is ice cold, allowing no argument. You’ve seen him this way a few times, always when he is angry and never at you. No, always at someone who did something mean to you though, the little voice whispers.
“I want your tongue back on my clit,” You say meekly because begging Seonghwa for such a thing is a foreign concept.
He stares at you for a second or two longer before suddenly spitting on your clit and smearing it in with his thumb. Your hips buck automatically from the sudden pleasure.
“You’re so sensitive,” He murmurs, “Gonna be so easy to make you cum again.” Seonghwa sounds lost in his daydreams and you cannot fathom how many times he’s thought about this.
His finger is back in your cunt and his tongue is flicking across your clit faster now. He adds a second digit, pumping them hard and fast, stopping occasionally to wiggle them deep inside you. His face is pressed against your pussy, sucking on your clit and sometimes stopping just to spit on it again. Seonghwa is groaning when he’s eating you out, as if he is driven to intoxication from the taste of you.
You can no longer prop yourself up on your elbows, instead sinking back down among the pillows. One of your hands reaches down for Seonghwa, his hair wrapping around your fingers as you desperately hold onto him so he doesn’t stop. He makes a noise of approval, fucking you harder with his fingers.
And it feels just too good and it feels even worse because it’s Seonghwa, the person you know the most and the person you don’t know at all. When your climax starts, his name leaves your lips broken and shattered, forever changed by what happened tonight.
When Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes are ablaze. You’re disoriented from cumming so hard two times already but he pulls you towards him. His lips crush yours in a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue. When the kiss breaks, there’s a long strand of spit connecting the two of you. He’s holding the back of your neck again, looking at you as though you’re trapped in his web.
“Oh, my name sounds so good like that.” He rubs his thumb across your lips, and the spit makes a mess, “You’re such a pretty thing.”
You like the way Seonghwa talks to you as if you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. But you suppose to him, you are. You’re feeling an aching desire to have him inside you, to know what it would be like to be fucked by him. Tentatively, you reach for his groin, pressing your hand against the tent. He inhales sharply but gives a firm shake of his head.
“Not yet,” He brushes your hand away, “You’re going to cum again.”
Surprised, you open your mouth to say something but before you can, he places two fingers on your tongue. Without questioning it, you wrap your lips around them and then immediately wonder why you didn’t even hesitate. You swirl your tongue around his fingers while he watches, entranced at the sight.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I can’t get enough of you. Now, sit on my face.”
Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of your mouth, snapping his fingers at you after he issued his command. You’re not even thinking anymore, lost completely to whatever pull you feel towards him and the promises of more pleasure. He’s on his back, motioning for you to hurry up. You try to carefully straddle his face but he makes a noise of impatience, reaching upwards to grab your hips and yanking you down so that your pussy is against his face.
His tongue dives into your hole and you make a noise of surprise, gripping the headboard of his bed. He’s eating your pussy like a man starved, not stopping to let you adjust at all. His hands are holding onto your hips, keeping you in place as he brings his tongue swooping up to your clit, swirling around it. This time is a lot more urgent as though it is more for him than you.
The sounds of Seonghwa eating your pussy sounds graphic but it is the way he is moaning while doing it that is turning you on. You like how he sounds, so desperate and his voice muffled, and when you move your hips gently against his face, he makes a noise to let you know to keep going.
So you do, grinding against his face. He moves his tongue back to your hole and you can feel his nose against your clit while rocking your hips. Your clit is growing sensitive from all the overstimulation and sometimes your hips bounce a little when it becomes too much. Seonghwa notices this and instead of giving you a break swoops his tongue back over your clit, flicking it hard and fast.
Your grip tightens on the headboard but you’re close to cumming again. Your thighs are shaking, panting with your tongue poking from in between your lips as you ride his face. With one last flick of his tongue, you moan out his name loudly, unable to stop from how much you’re working your pussy against his face. This orgasm is somehow even better than the earlier ones although it leaves your body shaking. You slide off him, falling onto the bed, trying to catch your breath.
Seonghwa sits up, kicking off his sweatpants. With relief, you realize he’s going to fuck you. You’re unsure that you could handle another orgasm again so soon after the others. Your head is dazed and thighs sore and you’re pretty sure that your pussy is a mess of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit.
He’s stroking his length, drinking in the sight of your naked body on his bed with the same fascination of someone viewing a beautiful painting. He shakes his hair out of his face again while getting to his knees, his hand still wrapped around his cock.
“You’re gonna cum around my cock next.”
You give a small shake of your head, out of breath. “I don’t think I can cum anymore.”
“Of course you can,” Seonghwa replies simply while positioning himself over your body.
His skin against yours is heavenly and hellish, weighted by the knowledge you’re tumbling into bed with your best friend who isn’t as stable as previously believed. But what does it say about you that it won’t leave your mind? He’s propped up over you, studying your face with such intensity that you break eye contact, feeling exposed. His cock is pressing at your entrance as your hands go to his sides, gingerly touching his hot skin.
Seonghwa lowers his face down to kiss you while sliding inside your wet entrance. You arch your back, fingers digging into his waist as he enters you easily. His lips are back on your neck, emitting a sigh that is a mingle of relief and tension all at once.
His words are muffled as he goes, “You feel so good. Your pussy is made for me. I was meant to be in this pussy every night.”
Seonghwa is curled around you, taking his time. He’s moving slowly, lost in the sensation of your walls tightening around his cock. Your hands glide upwards to his hair once again, bunching it in between your fingers as you wrap your legs around his waist.
When Seonghwa speaks again, he sounds lost, as if he isn’t even present in the moment. “I love you so much,” He grunts, going still for a second to collect himself before thrusting a little harder, “I love you so fucking much. I’d do anything for you, I’d do anything to be in your cunt like this. You just had to ask. But you never did.”
Your body is warm all over, each nerve in your body responding to his passion in a way that you didn’t think was possible. The voice in your head that has been pointing out how wrong it’s been all night is eerily silent. Instead, you tilt your head so that Seonghwa looks at you. Your foreheads are touching and when you speak, your lips graze his.
“Tell me what you’d do for me,” You plead softly.
His breath catches, his cock buried inside you to the hilt while he replies, “Anything. You know that. You already know some of what I’ve done. And I don’t regret any of it. I’d do it again,” He starts moving his hips faster now, plunging his length in and out of your soaking wet hole while his breathing grows laboured, “I’d do anything for you.”
The words make your head light. You’re moving your hips in time to his thrusts, tugging on his hair to let him know to keep going. Hearing your best friend make noises of pleasure, noises you’re not supposed to hear from him, is making you only desire more.
Seonghwa shifts positions, just enough so that your legs are bent back so he can hit your sweet spot with every jerk of his hips. Your hands fall to the bedsheets once more, digging into them as he fucks you.
“You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” He grunts and runs his hand through his hair quickly with one hand to get it out of his eyes.
The gesture, so familiar, one you’ve seen him do often, strikes you in the chest. His desperation is evident in his eyes, in his voice, in every action he’s taken since he grabbed your wrist earlier. This is still your best friend, the realization dawning, this is still Seonghwa.
You’re just seeing all aspects of him now.
You aren’t sure what compels you to reach for his hand but you do, sliding it up to your neck. His eyes light up at what you’re requesting, that shark’s grin returning so quickly that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hand tightens around your neck while he fucks you. The muscles on his arm tightens; he pushes you back against the pillows while fucking you hard and fast.
“I’d do anything for you,” He repeats, voice breaking, “I’d have done anything you ever wanted if you just asked.” The pleasure is overtaking him and his mind is wandering, jumping from topic to topic, telling you all the things he’s ever thought about. “Fuck, my hand around your neck…” He grips you harder and you make a small noise which only drives his cock harder in your hole. “You look like a ragdoll taking my dick with your lips parted like that. I watched you through your window last week. You looked so tired. I thought – fuck, I thought about my hands around your neck, choking you while I fucked you into oblivion so you could sleep.”
I watched you through your window last week.
The angle and his hand on your neck is bringing you to another climax which you didn’t think could be possible. You can barely breathe, can barely move your hips to meet his thrusts. You’re so close to finishing, watching how Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your face, how intensely he is staring at you, no expression on his face as he fucks you.
With the little air you have left, you ask the question again. “Tell me what you’d do for me.” The words are so soft that you aren’t sure anyone else but Seonghwa could have heard them – he’s just too in tune with you.
“I’d fucking kill for you.”
And you’re cumming on his cock then. Seonghwa releases his grip on your neck so he can hear your hoarse moans. He hasn’t stopped fucking you, moving his hips the entire time you’re orgasming. You keep saying his name, your hips moving to meet his thrusts, making more noise than you ever have before.
Seonghwa pulls out, wiping the sweat from his brow before leaning forward, grabbing your face and going, “Open your mouth.” You do immediately and he spits in your mouth lewdly before kissing you hungrily. When it ends, he says roughly, “I’m gonna cum in your cunt now. Get on your knees.”
Your body protests a little while doing so, tired and sore from cumming so much and being fucked so hard. But once your ass is in the air, Seonghwa’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. He doesn’t waste any time and you know he must be dying to finish. You’re not used to someone putting their pleasure last like this.
The change in angle feels so good and you moan, prompting Seonghwa to go, “You’re cock starved, I love it. I love hearing you want more of me.” His hands slide to your lower back. “I love hearing you want me and none of those idiots you’ve wasted time on. All those fucking idiots. Made me sick.” He’s slamming his hips against your ass, his balls smacking against your pussy with each hurried thrust. “Makes me fucking sick to think of them touching you instead of me. They never deserved you. They never understood you, not like I did.”
You’re sinking into the bed, the weight of his hands on your lower back giving you no choice, your ass high in the air now as Seonghwa fucks you mercilessly. His voice is slurring at the edges, his words hazy like small things being tugged towards the light for the first time.
“I knew they couldn’t fuck you like I could or take care of you like I could. Just idiots, circling around you and I tried so hard to be nice. I wanted to be nice to those idiots because of you. Everything I do is because of you because I love you so much. F-fuck,” He does a particularly hard thrust and groans, “I wasn’t perfect. I knew I was doing bad things. Getting them fired from jobs. Snooping through their emails. Slashing their tires. I knew –” His breath caught, and his hands move to your ass, gripping it hard enough to leave marks. “I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself. I was in love with you for so long and sometimes it’s enough to drive a man crazy.”
Seonghwa is fucking you so hard that you can’t even move. You lay against the bed, taking his cock, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head from how it good it is. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. The way he’s fucking you combined with his speech is making your head utterly blank – it just feels so good. All of it feels so good. You think your tongue might be poking out from between your lips. All you know is he’s going to make you finish again.
“I’m gonna fuck you like this every night, I’m gonna – fuck. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m going to fuck you and no one is ever going to bother you again because you’re mine now. Tell me you’re mine, I want to hear you tell me.”
Using the last of your energy, you moan out, “I’m yours, I belong to you, I’m yours.”
Seonghwa grunts, giving one last thrust while going, “Now take my load in that sweet cunt of yours.”
His cum is warm in your cunt as he empties his balls, filling you up until it’s leaking out of your hole. You’re finishing again as well, perfectly in sync with your best friend. You’ve fallen on the bed, making an unholy amount of noise from the intense orgasm, completely overstimulated. Seonghwa has pulled out of your cunt, leaving a long strand of cum along your lower back as he finishes.
Your eyes are closed, feeling completely fucked out. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth; you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. Seonghwa shifts behind you, sliding off the bed, leaving the room. A few moments later, he returns and you can feel a towel along your back, cleaning you up before he shifts, sliding closer to your body.
Seonghwa’s arms carefully wrap around you, pulling your body towards him. You curl up against his chest, eyes closing. He’s kissing the top of your head, his fingers trailing along your back in gentle touches. All his earlier energy is gone, depleted, and now he is soft and inviting.
You tilt your face to look at Seonghwa, reaching upwards to graze his jawline with your fingertips. He kisses them too. Would it be so wrong to have everything with him? To be so adored and loved with someone who has known you forever? His eyes are cutting through your defenses, nuzzling into the soft spot of your brain that should know better.
Your lips find his.
A cloud covers the moon.
*
               You’re wearing just one of Seonghwa’s shirts, sitting on the edge of his bed in the morning light. He left twenty minutes ago to get coffee from your favourite spot, leaving you alone in his apartment.
               You’re thinking about him.
               You’re thinking about the soft kisses he gave you upon waking, his smile that you know so well, the way he looked shirtless in the morning light.
               He had cupped your cheek, said he was going to get coffee and you felt a pang at him leaving, even for just a little while. Even just for twenty minutes.
               Relief swoops through you when the front door opens, and Seonghwa calls your name. He comes down the hallway and stops in the doorway. His jacket is already removed, just wearing a hastily thrown on Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He places one coffee cup on his dresser, running his fingers through his hair with his hand. He’s smiling, sitting down next to you.
               “I missed you,” He admits bashfully, holding onto your coffee, his eyes dropping to your lap, “Should I keep it?”
               Your hands are curled around the handle of the axe. You look at the blade; your reflection is distorted. He rests his chin on your shoulder, peering at you, waiting for your choice. Everything with Seonghwa is your choice because he loves you so much. He doesn’t question that you’ve been sitting in his bed, holding his axe, lost in thought.
               You’ve been thinking about what is right, what’s wrong and what you want.
               You kiss his forehead, and he makes a noise of contentment.
               “You should keep it,” You declare, shifting the axe into his lap carefully. “Just in case.”
               Seonghwa grins cheerfully.
               “Yeah, just in case.”
the end.
1K notes · View notes
heeliopheelia · 11 months
Text
𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎
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part 2
genre: angst, established relationship
word count: 2.9k
warnings: curse words (and some of the boys are really cruel to yn :()
masterlist
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LEE HEESEUNG
"Please, can we talk about this tomorrow?" Heeseung groans as he slumps down on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands. He really doesn't want to get mad at you at such late hour but he can't help it when you keep talking his ear off from the moment that he's walked into your shared apartment. "I'm dead tired, just let it go for now, okay?"
"I'm not sleeping with you today," you scoff, not even daring a look at him so that he doesn't notice the tears of frustration that have started brimming in your eyes.
You've just found out from one of Heeseung's friends that he's been out with his ex for almost the entire day. Without telling you a word about it. Normally, you weren't the jealous type as you trust your boyfriend with your whole heart. But after hearing that he's been having the time of his life with the girl that once has broken his heart, while you were at home waiting for him to come back, your thoughts drifted onto a completely different track.
"Why? Fuck, so what if I saw her today?' He exclaims, slapping his thighs with a breathless laugh. "Nothing happened! She just wanted to talk, YN! Talk. Stop trying to turn it into something that it's not."
"Then why didn't you even bother telling me that you were meeting her?" You ask, involuntarily letting yourself get emotional and raising your voice as well. "Who even does shit like that?"
"I just didn't think it would matter so much to you, that's all. I thought you trusted me a little more!"
"So you're saying that if I were to hang out with my ex and didn't tell you anything about it, you'd be fine with it?" You snort when he nods his head. "Alright, yeah. Watch out cause I almost believed you."
"God, you're just like her! Why would I ever think of cheating on you with her when the two of you are exactly alike?" Heeseung ignores the hurt look on your face and keeps on talking nonsense, fueled up by anger. "Both have trust issues. Both are ridiculously jealous. Both are way too clingy for anybody to bear. Fucking twins!"
You laugh in disbelief as you stand up from the couch. "Why are we even in this relationship if I'm so fucking unlovable to you?"
"Good question," he quietly murmurs.
You don't bother to wait for his apology or pleads for you to stay as you know he's way too deep in his anger to even start acknowledging your feelings now. You don't even have the strength to slam the door, so you just quietly let them shut behind you as you walk out on the dark street.
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PARK JAY
You cross your arms over your chest, watching as your boyfriend finishes getting dressed for work. He said he would take the day off today but he obviously forgot to do so and now is leaving you hanging onto another empty promise.
"You're twisting my words! I just said you promised you would stay with me today, that's all."
"Well and I said I forgot! End of story," Jay grumbles at you, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. "Whatever, I don't have time for this right now."
"You never do!" You raise your voice involuntarily and turn your face away as you feel the tears gathering in your eyes. How could he forget? "Not even once have I ever been prioritized while being in this relationship with you! And it's not like you even have anything important to do today!"
"We're not having this conversation again," he laughs breathlessly, threading his fingers through his hair. "My boss called me and said he needs my help. Of course my job is gonna come first in a situation like that, YN! After all this time, I thought you'd be more understanding by now."
"Yeah, it's just there are days where I want to be put first for a change. It's not like I ask you for that every week!"
You can't help but let the tears drop down your cheeks, failing to hide your emotions for any longer. You're right, though. Jay knows it too. You never complained about his work or asked him to take the day off, unless the date was important to you. It's just too bad he was too much in his own head to think about it for a little longer.
"I can always take the day off next week!" Jay says with a roll of his eyes. "And, god, why do you always have to cry?"
"Because it's my fucking birthday, you asshole," you breathe out in a broken voice before standing up from the bed.
Jay's eyes almost double in their size as he lets your words repeat in his mind. Birthday. It's your birthday. He tries to grab your wrist as you walk past him but you jerk it away from him.
"YN, I-"
"I don't wanna talk to you right now."
You rush out of the bedroom. Slamming the bathroom door behind you, you slide to the ground and bury your head in your hands, finally letting out the sob that's been weighting on your throat throughout the entire morning. 
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SIM JAKE
As you walk out of the restaurant angrily, you dial Jake's number. It's the fourth time you've been stood up by him like that, sitting completely embarrassed and alone at the table reserved for two. Jake was supposed to meet you here forty minutes ago and while at first you waited patiently for him, knowing his schedule is rather tight, after half and hour of having your calls not answered, you started losing your cool.
"Hi, baby. What's up?" You hear his cheerful voice from the other side of the phone.
"Nothing much besides the fact that I've been stood up by my boyfriend once again this week," you reply in a rather passive aggressive manner as you open the door of your car. "How was your day, babe?"
Jake keeps silent for a second or two before a groan leaves his throat. "Fuck, it completely slipped out my mind. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be," you nearly growl, starting your car. You curse quietly when the engine stutters and chokes but doesn't want to start by the first two times. "I waited forty minutes for you, jackass."
"Shit, are you still there? Just wait a little more and I'll be there soon, I promise."
You scoff loudly. "You've got some nerve, I'll give you that, Jake."
You can hear him sigh heavily and you can just picture how he's pinching the bridge of his nose at the moment. "Can you stop that? I already apologized. I'm sorry that I have to work."
"Oh, you're very welcome." You grit your teeth, keeping your phone pressed between your ear and shoulder as you drive out of the parking lot. "Would it really kill you to remember about me even once?"
"YN, you're not being fair right now," he says and you know he's pushing himself to his limits to not raise his voice at you. "Look, one of us has to actually make some money. I can't keep my head wrapped around everything."
"Oh, yeah? So you're at work right now?"
He stutters slightly. Got him. "Well, no I-"
"Jake, are you coming, man?"
Hearing Heeseung's voice shouting on the other line makes your fingers clench on the wheel tightly. You breathe in sharply and let out a short laugh. "Good to know what your priorities are, Jake."
"No, wait, I'm-"
You interrupt him again before ending the call, "Don't bother."
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PARK SUNGHOON
You breathe out in relief when you hear the familiar sound of Sunghoon's car pulling up on the driveway. He hasn't been answering any of your calls since the afternoon and you really started getting worried. You've been arguing with each other throughout the couple past weeks and you took notice of how distanced he's become towards you. You've attempted to fix that but it's a really hard task to do with your boyfriend being as stubborn as he is.
"Oh my god, I was so worried about you," you say the second when Sunghoon walks into your house. "Where have you been?"
He only nods his head at you in acknowledgement and toes his shoes off wordlessly. You frown slightly at his sudden muteness and put the sizzling pan aside.
"I made you dinner, figured you'd be hungry," you start again and only get disappointed when he dismisses you curtly.
"I'm not."
Pressing your lips together, you nod your head slightly before following him to the living room and taking a seat next to him, not close enough to irk him any further though. The two of you sit in silence, mindlessly watching the random channel that Sunghoon played. He has his arms folded on his chest and you wonder what went so wrong that he suddenly turned so cold towards you.
So you try again, speaking with a soft voice. "Why didn't you answer my calls today?"
You feel your whole body tensing when he lets out a groan. "Cause I didn't want you distracting me."
"Okay, what the hell is up with you, Hoon? Why the attitude?" You ask, turning away from the TV screen to look at your boyfriend's frowned up face.
You don't miss the roll of his eyes as he clicks his tongue. "For fuck's sake, if I knew you'd be this needy today, I would've stayed out longer."
You try not to show how much his words hurt you but the look on your face tells him a completely different story. You clear your throat and decide on voicing the thought that's made itself way too comfortable in your mind during the past few weeks. "Sometimes I just feel like you don't love me anymore."
"Well, maybe I would've loved you a little more if you stopped being so clingy. Seriously, fifteen calls, YN! Who the hell does that?"
Silence. His hurtful words linger in the air heavily and you both say nothing. You avoid his eyes, lips slightly trembling from the heartbreak. Sunghoon still says nothing as you stand up from the couch and leave the room in a rush.
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KIM SUNOO
"Do you even hear yourself? Why would she be lying?" Sunoo shouts at you as he crosses his arms defensively.
You're gripping the edge of your sleeve tightly, trying to prevent yourself from raising your voice as well. Even though you're keeping cool, his words and accusations stab your heart with dozens of needles. Having your boyfriend believing his friend rather than you has got to be one of the worst feelings in the world.
"And why would I be lying?" You ask, glaring him down. "Why would I, your girlfriend, lie about my whereabouts? For fun?"
He scoffs at you,. "Well, you didn't tell me you were hanging out with Sunghoon, did you?"
"No, because I wasn't hanging out with him, we just stumbled upon each other on my way back," you explain calmly as you clench your sleeve even tighter from frustration. "We literally talked for five minutes."
"That's not what what I've heard."
You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. "Yeah, cause what else would a person that's been in love with you for two years tell you?" You can't really help the sarcastic tone that's sneaked itself into your speech and you can see it only irks Sunoo more as he nearly scowls at you.
But all that you've said is the truth. Since the beginning of your relationship, you've noticed his best friend's spiteful looks thrown your way along with the heart-eyes directed at Sunoo. You've kept quiet for all this time, not saying a word even when he ditched you for her or made plans without your knowing. But this, this is just too much for you.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he has the audacity to laugh at you.
"No, Sunoo, it hurts me, you know?" You finally let all of your feelings that have been crumpled inside you for all these years. "Do you ever even try to acknowledge my feelings when you hang out with her?"
"Don't turn this on me right now. And I'm not allowed to have female friends now? What kind of a girlfriend even are you?"
You get up from his bed and scoff at him. "And what kind of a boyfriend accuses his girlfriend of cheating while he sneaks out without her knowledge to meet up with his best friend?"
With that, you turn on your heel and leave his apartment, slamming the door behind you.
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YANG JUNGWON
"That's not what friends do, YN! Are you even listening to me?"
"I am but you're being ridiculous!" You bite back at your boyfriend, walking back from a lunch with your best friend.
Throughout the entire meal she's been throwing jabs and snarly remarks at you, and although you've already grown used to her attitude, Jungwon just couldn't let that slide. He thinks it's illogical that someone you've been calling your friend for such a long time, would act so mean and nearly insulting towards you.
"I don't understand how can you let her speak to you that way," he breathes out in disbelief. "I wanted to spit in her face after an hour of talking to her, why do you let her do this to you all the time?"
"Because she's my best friend, Won!" You try to stay your ground as you dig into your purse, looking for your keys. "That's just how she is. I've learnt not to take any offence in that. You shouldn't either."
"I just care about you, so forgive me for not liking it when someone insults my girlfriend!"
You sigh, feeling tired from the night and the ongoing argument. "I know you do but I don't see it that way. She's just rough around the edges, that's all."
"Of course you don't see it. All you need is constant validation. You just can't live with the thought of somebody not liking you. You'd let a stranger walk all over you only if it meant you had gotten his approval. That's not fucking healthy, YN!"
"How can you even say that to me? Why would you-," you stop yourself from engaging in this conversation and slump your shoulders with resignation. "I don't wanna do this anymore."
Jungwon sends you a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"I just want to be alone right now," you say and Jungwon can clearly hear the exhaustion in your tone. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for walking me back."
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NISHIMURA RIKI
The moment that you hear the door slamming, you sigh as you realize it's one of these days again. For the past week or so, Niki has been coming home frustrated beyond words but not even once has he said what was bothering him. Sure, you've tried to intervene and ask him what's was it all about but he always dismissed you quickly. It hurts you to think that maybe he doesn't trust you enough to confide in you like that.
"Hi," you greet him as you stand up from the couch. You walk over to your boyfriend and wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt of hugging him but only get disappointed when you feel his body tense up. You pull away and look at him pointedly. "Another bad day?"
Niki hums and moves away from you, going into the direction of the kitchen. You follow him, feeling worried for him as you know he has the tendencies of bottling up his emotions inside.
"Wait! Don't ignore me again," you scolded him slightly, forcing yourself to stay calm and speak with the soft tone. You grab him by his forearm. "Niki?"
"Let go of me," he breathes out, voice heavy and your heart screams at the thought of him deciding to struggle with all of it by himself again.
You do as he asks and free his arm instantly. "Okay. Just talk to me, please?"
"There's nothing to talk about, Yn!" He snaps at you and runs his hand through his hair. "Stop pressing me!"
"No, you always keep acting like everything's fine when it's clearly not! I don't want you to keep it all to yourself. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about stuff like that," you explain, trying to keep him on your side. "I want to help you!"
"I don't need your help, though!" He scowls, sending you a sharp look. "If I knew you'd be sticking your nose into my business the second I walked through the door, I wouldn't even bother coming back."
"Hey, that's so cruel and uncalled for, Niki," you gasp slightly, feeling his words pulling at your heart again. "You're my boyfriend, of course I care about you! I hate seeing you like that but you just won't let me understand what's going on with you!"
"Are you my psychiatrist or my girlfriend? Jesus, I'm not in the mood for that right now," he sighs heavily and walks past you straight for the door.
"No, wait!" You call after him but you're too late and he's already slamming the door behind his back.
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permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19
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pinchofhoney · 7 months
Text
broken promises, part three
« part one | part two | part three (the last one)
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
warning: angst, we used to be close but people can go from people you know to people you don't, mention of helping in the rebellion
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: so,, this is the end of this little story of a heartbreak. thank you for sticking with it<33 for more coriolanus content, feel free to drop by my inbox where you can leave your ideas for the next oneshots!!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns @mavkaorlova @strangegril002 @thathoefromcollage
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
You'd be lying if you pretended not to be invested in the 10th Hunger Games. With Academy students participating this year, you had no choice but to follow the competition's every twist and turn, but even if it had been different, you'd have still tuned in from your home's television screen.
Despite the heated exchanges and angry words directed at Coriolanus, your best wishes were always with him. You genuinely hoped for nothing but the best for him, believing he'd achieve the deserved success he'd strived for and reach his craved scholarship, a gateway to boundless opportunities. In your heart, you rooted for Lucy Gray Baird's victory, as that seemed to be the only path leading to Coriolanus's dreams coming true.
Seeing Coriolanus each day in his perfectly fitted Academy uniform, hiding behind a facade of indifference that he never pull off around anyone outside his inner circle, playing the part of the model student, brought you pain. He gave off the impression that your past relationship had left no mark on him, leaving you in the dark about his true emotions and what was going on within his mind for the first time.
You were aware that everyone in your class had picked up on the shift between you and Coriolanus, though they tactfully avoided discussing it openly. You appreciated their silent understanding; no one was prying, and it allowed you to avoid discussing the painful change that had taken place. You didn't owe anyone an explanation, but it was easier to bear the weight of the situation when it remained unspoken. It stung to know that some girl from the District now held a more important place in your boyfriend's heart than you, someone he had known since childhood and shared the darkest moments of his life with.
The breakup with Coriolanus hit you like someone’s death. When you returned to the family penthouse, tears flowed endlessly from your eyes, and you couldn't seem to stop them. The persistent crying left you dehydrated, lying on your bed, cocooned in a blanket, your eyes red and swollen, and a pounding headache. The idea of consuming even a morsel of food felt impossible, and every inch of your room was a constant reminder of the moments you had shared with Coriolanus.
At times, you really wanted to approach him, to take the blame, to apologize for reacting hastily and to tell him that you should have let him handle things. But he treated you as if you were transparent. He had to feel your gaze on him, yet he chose to act as if you didn't exist, focusing all his attention on the Arena's broadcast screens, eagerly awaiting Lucy Gray's appearance.
As soon as the victory of the tribute from the Twelfth District became evident, you leaped to your feet, a genuine smile lighting up your face. Joining in the cheers and applause of your friends, you felt an urge to rush towards Coriolanus, but the memory of his distant gaze held you back. You knew you were no longer part of his happiness, no longer someone he wanted to share joy with.
With a lump in your throat, you discreetly cleared it, glancing around at other students. They seemed too absorbed in their own celebrations to notice your abrupt outburst. And so, you continued clapping, though the enthusiasm had waned, and the smile on your lips had dimmed.
You watched as Festus and a few other students hoisted Coriolanus onto a chair and paraded him around the podium and when they eventually placed him back on the ground, he turned his gaze toward you for the first time since your break up.
It was a brief look, lacking the joy in his eyes from seconds ago, but tinged with sense of satisfaction. It was a satisfaction born from the unexpected outcome, a result opposite to your wish for him to lose.
Afterward, all the students were directed into the dining hall to celebrate Coriolanus's victory with cake and posca.
And no longer after, the boy simply disappeared, slipping away from the festivities.
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As the final echoes of the Games' noisy cheers faded away, an unsettling silence descended upon the Capitol, and your mind was left in a whirlwind of questions and concern. The explanation provided by the Academy for Coriolanus's sudden departure to one of the districts, where he was enlisting for as a Peacekeeper, seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece in his life.
You knew Coriolanus better than most, his ambitions, his dreams, his unrelenting pursuit of victory. This decision, so out of character, scratched at the corners of your consciousness like an itch you couldn't quite reach. The nagging sense that something was amiss and missing from the narrative was an ever-present companion, casting a shadow over your thoughts.
But the mystery didn't end with his sudden departure. The day following the Games' conclusion, it was as if someone had meticulously wiped away any trace of the event's existence. Records, footage, and even the very name Lucy Gray Baird were methodically excised from history's pages. The thoroughness of this situation left you in a state of bewildered disbelief. The memories and echoes of the Games, once so vivid, now seemed to have been cast into a gap of forgotten time.
Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one clamoring for answers, but you knew that the truth was hidden beyond your reach. In all of these Capitol secrets, you had no choice but to accept the narrative spun by Doctor Gaul and Dean Highbottom, even if it left you feeling like a mere puppet, dancing to their tune.
You just clung to the belief that Coriolanus was out there, safe, and somehow untouched by the Capitol's ominous machinations. You didn't know the real reason for his leaving, but thoughts of his comfort were your only solace.
You longed to see him again, not only because of the warmth of his presence, but also because of the secrets he could hold. Yet, deep down, you knew that even if he were to find his way back to the heart of Panem, you would likely be the last person on his list to seek out.
On a day that was just like any other, as the Capitol went about its business, you found yourself outside your penthouse. It was just another moment in your everyday routine, all you wanted was to go for a walk, enjoying the last few days before university starts, unaware of things that were about to happen.
You were lost in thought, just looking around the familiar place when suddenly, someone stepped into view and your heart stopped for what seemed like a split second. It was Coriolanus, no doubt about it, but he had changed more than you could have imagined. He used to have those distinctive curls, but now, his hair was much shorter. His whole presence felt more reserved. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from what you were used to. Something about his aura had shifted, and it was not the same energy you once knew, not even the one he usually projected to others. It was a subtle change, but it was there.
Upon realizing that he was heading towards your shared building, a mix of emotions surged within you. Surprise and happiness due to the sight of the person you had missed so intensely warred with the memories of his abrupt departure, and the months of estrangement.
As he drew closer, you couldn't help but hope for a friendly reunion. You wanted to forget the past and bridge the distance that had grown between the two of you, but the Coriolanus who now stood before you was colder, more distant than ever before.
His eyes, which once held warmth and familiarity when they met yours, now seemed to pass right through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense that the Coriolanus you once knew had changed into a stranger.
“Coryo?” you cautiously greeted him as he drew closer, employing the affectionate diminutive form of his name. “I didn't expect to meet you here.”
Your friendly approach fell upon a wall of silence, an awkward pause hanging heavily between you. The air seemed thick with unresolved tension, and you questioned whether you should have simply pretended not to notice him.
“Dean Highbottom mentioned that you departed for Twelve to join the Peacekeepers,” you continued, attempting to engage him in conversation. Your gaze remained intent on his, even as his bored expression showed little sign of interest. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward moments of your life, and the hope of a warm reunion was fading with each passing second.
You couldn't help but inquire further, “Was it because of Lucy Gray?”
Upon the mention of the tribute girl's name, a subtle shift occurred in Coriolanus's demeanor. He raised his head slightly, his gaze narrowing and his jaw clenching. The unexpected reaction baffled you, and a crease of confusion formed between your brows as you tried to comprehend his change in demeanor.
“Lucy Gray is gone,” he stated, his words dripping with coldness and arrogance, once again underscoring the transformation in his character. The warmth and compassion that had once defined your interactions now felt like distant memories, leaving you in the stark shadow of your shared past.
“Gone?” you repeated. His statement was quite confusing, and you struggled to grasp its meaning.
Without offering any clarification, he continued his stride towards the building's entrance, as if your presence had become irrelevant to him. Desperate for answers that had slipped away form you for far too long, you reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt to stop him.
“Coryo, wait,” you begged, looking into his eyes for a flicker of the person you used to know. The frigid stare he returned sent a chill through your spine, but your curiosity pushed you forward. “What happened? After... well, after you disappeared.”
His gaze dipped to where your fingers held on to his shirt, and the tension between you grew palpable. When you finally let go, his eyes met yours once more, and he spoke in a voice that held a hint of gentleness. “Do you really want to know what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He maintained his distance, standing tall and appearing to gaze down at you.
You didn't particularly like this version of Coriolanus, but at the same time you couldn't back down now; you had yearned for this moment for months.
In response to his question, you offered a simple nod, a silent invitation for him to share. The silence hung between you, heavy and full of unspoken emotions. Coriolanus glanced around, checking for any unwelcome listeners nearby, before answering.
“I've been through a living hell,” he responded curtly, leaving a trail of unresolved questions lingering in the air, but before you could voice these unspoken thoughts, he continued.
“I was forced to follow relentless orders each day, enduring the scorching sun that left burns on my skin, and the agony of taking three lives,” he recounted, as if each experience weighed equally on his conscience. “And those damn songbirds... they're a nightmare. They can drive you to the brink of insanity.”
You sought answers in his eyes, searching for any glimmer of the person you had known, but what you found was far from the warmth and compassion you remembered. It was as if something within him had been replaced by a hint of disdain.
“She betrayed me,” he continued, his voice carrying the weight of bitter disappointment, before you had time to sort out the chaos in your head. “Just when I thought I could escape it all and start a new life without constantly looking over my shoulder, she chose to abandon me.”
“What do you mean, Coryo?” you questioned, your forehead creased with worry as you gazed into his eyes.
“I killed Sejanus Plinth,” he confessed. Your lips parted in shock, and without realizing it, you instinctively moved a step away, creating a physical gap between you and someone who had once been an open book. Now, it felt as though you knew nothing about him.
You had heard rumors of Sejanus Plinth's death, but the details were murky. The nature of Coriolanus and Sejanus's relationship had always been a subject of speculation, leaving people to wonder whether they were genuine friends or just collagues. Coriolanus had occasionally expressed his frustration with Sejanus to you, but you had never imagined he would go as far as to take such a drastic step.
Coriolanus seemed oblivious to your reaction, his words continuing in a torrent of frustration. “But he deserved it. He could have listened to me and followed the rules for once. Instead, he chose to be a rebel, wanting to play the savior of the districts. That's how rebels end up,” his words were like shards of ice, driven by a wrath you had never seen in him before.
“I killed people who threatened her. I killed those who could be dangerous to Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus murmured. You gazed into his empty eyes as he continued and a sense of dread creeped over you. “And in return, she betrayed me, willing to see me suffer the same fate as Sejanus,” he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't risk being caught when I was mere hours away from leaving this wretched district.”
Your world seemed to crumble under the weight of his shocking confession. The inhumanity of his actions left you speechless, but Coriolanus appeared unaffected by your stunned silence.
He took a step closer, diminishing the gap between you, and you fought the urge to move back or look away from his piercing eyes.
“I'll make them all pay for it,” he declared with a small, unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. There was something in that expression that scared you, and now you were sure the boy standing in front of you was not the Coriolanus you had grown up with. “Every last one of them,” he added, presumably referring to the district residents with disdain.
With those words hanging in the air, he turned and disappeared behind the door of the apartment building, leaving you in a state of confusion and fear.
Many times, as you lay in bed at night, you often found yourself imagining the chance to see Coriolanus again. You wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they used to be, and that the warmth you once shared might return. But, the version of the man you just had a chance to look in the eyes filled you with nothing but fear now.
He seemed colder than his very name.
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64 YEARS LATER
The underground room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single overhead bulb casting elongated shadows on the faces gathered around the table. Maps, documents, and a tactical board cluttered the space, a visual representation of the Rebellion's intricate plans. The tension in the room was palpable, and when you walked in with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to a tiger in her appearance, the rebels shared uncertain, questioning looks.
Katniss, her unmistakable braided hair and fierce gaze, was the first to break the silence. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, “Why are you doing this?”
Her eyes bore into yours with a mix of curiosity and concern, and you felt a dozen pairs of eyes in the room fixate on you. “Risking your life to help us take down Snow?”
You inhaled a quivering breath when the memories and thoughts weighing heavily upon your chest. In your mind, a series of images flashed – a time when Snow had been had been a very different person. You paused for a moment, your thoughts returning to the Coriolanus you had once been so familiar with. The recollection painted a vivid picture of Coryo as you remembered him: his charming smile, which he had once reserved solely for you, and his distinctive, curly hair.
“I'm doing this,” you began, your voice tinged with pain and longing, “because I used to know him very well.” You deliberately used the diminutive form of his name that had once been so familiar to you, “Coryo. We were close, once.”
The room fell silent, and a myriad of emotions passed over the faces of those assembled. Your words seemed to have caught them off guard, and you could sense their curiosity and concern.
“We were in a relationship, but he's not the person I once loved anymore. This Snow, the one we're fighting against now, is a monster. He's not the Coryo I knew. He deserves the worst.”
Peeta, who sat beside Katniss, let out a sigh, and his eyes held a profound understanding. His gaze, a clear blue in the dim light, softened as he looked at you.
“Sometimes people change,” Peeta said, his voice gentle. “I've seen it happen before.”
Katniss's expression hardened with resolve, her determination unwavering. “He's going to regret everything he has done in his life,” she said.
As Katniss's words hung in the air, you felt a wave of knotty emotions churning within you. Your gaze drifted downward to the shelter's dirt floor, where the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow. For years, you had yearned for justice to be served to Coriolanus, for him to face the consequences of his oppressive rule over Panem. It had been a sincere desire, one that had simmered in your heart, yet now, with the Rebellion's cause so close to success, you found yourself grappling with a bewildering conflict.
Coriolanus had long disregarded you, deeming you unworthy of his attention and companionship. He had tear your connection, but it didn't mean that you had forgotten the feelings you had once for him.
It was his treatment of those who still loved him, the suffering of his cousin Tigris, who had been a close friend of yours, that weighed on your heart. She had selflessly helped Coriolanus throughout the war, supported him during his first mentorship and long after, but his attitude toward her changed with each passing year, and you couldn't understand why.
Over the years, Coriolanus had allowed the Hunger Games to evolve into something even more grotesque and brutal, making even bigger spectacle out of the tributes' deaths. It had been a source of disgust, a reflection of his growing cruelty. You were repulsed by the Capitol, sickened by Snow's insatiable thirst for power and the desire to see him removed from his seat of authority had been a driving force.
Yet, something within you was blocking your resolve, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty. The conflict within your heart was a huge storm, with one part pulling you toward the rebellion and the other tethered to a past that still held the remains of the Coriolanus you had once known, loved, and miss.
But that boy from your youth was a distant memory, swallowed by the Coriolanus who had emerged over the years, especially during his time in the Twelfth District shortly after his victory in the Games.
You raised your eyes to meet Katniss's, and in that moment, your mind drifted to Lucy Gray Baird, an ironic twist of fate that wasn't lost on you.
As Katniss observed your internal struggle, her sharp instincts sensed that there was more to your hesitancy than met the eye. She furrowed her brows, her gaze unwavering, and asked, “Is there something else you would like to share?”
Peeta, who had been observing you quietly, echoed her concern with a compassionate look in his eyes. His gentle tone conveyed understanding as he said, “You can talk to us, you know. We've all had our reasons for joining this fight.”
Your throat felt constricted, and you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos of emotions. With a hurried swallow and a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat and shook your head. You offered a smile, though it felt forced and inadequate for the gravity of the moment, as you moved closer to the table filled with scattered papers.
“So what’s the plan?” you asked, attempting to shift the focus away from you. Your eyes darted around the faces of those gathered around the tabletop, eager to immerse yourself in the cause, to be part of the solution to the crisis at hand.
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hyunjinspark · 4 months
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star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 18
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pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader
genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers
synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 
word count: 33K
warnings: cursing, drinking, mature content, heavyyyy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, unrequited love, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, whipped hyunjin, a big confrontation, lots of heartbreaks, mentions of diet, mentions of threats, toxic idol culture, a scene of unwarranted sexual advances! (not from hyunjin)
a/n: whew, this is another big chapter and picks up from hyunjin's pov after he moved back to the city, hope that's not confusing! there's a lot of toxicity surrounding idol culture, and features mature language and content throughout. please read the warnings to make sure you're comfortable with everything. this fic has taken a life of it's own, and im really enjoying focusing on yn's character arc, along with the obvious lovestory. this isn't a feel-good chapter, it features a lot of angst and uncomfortable situations, but i promise things will get better after this! anyway, this was very fun to write and picks up on one of my favorite arcs of this story. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!
important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.
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Five Months Ago.
The electric blue guitar in Hyunjin’s hands felt familiar. He adjusted the strap around his body, he was getting used to the weight of it again. It had been a while since he’d touched it, fingers skimming over the strings. If he focused on this, he could ignore the blaring lights in his face. 
“Still not used to the spotlight, Jinnie?” Jisung asked, elbowing him in the stomach. Hyunjin doubled over, avoiding another attack from the man, “Ouch. The lights are brighter than I remember”
“Well, how else will they get our pretty faces on camera?” Jisung grinned, stepping in front of him, and thankfully blocking the heat of the lights. 
“I’m…really hot” Hyunjin declared, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead, “I hope they can fix the cooling in here”
Jisung sighed, lifting his guitar to help him tune it, taking the weight momentarily off his hands. As he did that, someone stepped up to Hyunjin, a little electric fan and makeup palette in hand, “Can you please hold this? Your makeup’s running”
“Sorry” He apologised, even though it was no one’s fault. The stage equipment and lights made the set far too hot, the air conditioning was broken and they’d only just begun. Hyunjin couldn’t fathom what the full day of filming would look like. He held the little fan to his face, the cool instantly relaxing his muscles with relief, shoulders sagging from tension. Jisung stood between them still, trying to tune his guitar and the makeup lady awkwardly stepped closer, patting down the foundation on Hyunjin’s cheeks, “Did you tan when you were away?”
“Um, I suppose. I was out in the sun a lot” He responded, but realised quickly that she didn’t really want a response. She was berating him because his usual foundation no longer matched him. Her lips pulled into a thin line, “You should be careful”
Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up. Careful about…what exactly? When he was in Daejon, swimming in the Creek, or lounging away in the sun, his first concern wasn’t exactly putting on any heavy sunscreen. He was away from the world of…such.
“He just doesn’t know his face would cost the company millions of won" Jisung joked. It was irresponsible, sure, but he had more important things distracting him at the time. At the memory of the bright Daejon sun, Hyunjin smiled, closing his eyes briefly to revel in the memory. If he thought hard enough, the blaring spotlights could almost replicate the southern summer sun. It was hard to get lost in his imagination though. The lady was prodding and poking at his face, turning him this and that side so she could fix him. This wasn’t the time.
“There. Try playing it now” Jisung said proudly, standing up straight and letting go of Hyunjin’s guitar. So he played a tempo to test it, and the music seemed perfectly fine now. In the end, it was futile anyway. The company didn’t allow them to play live in the music video. Apparently they had no faith that the boys wouldn’t mess up the instruments after such a long hiatus, and there was no time or money for retakes and reshoots. So, they would only pretend to play, and lip-sync the words and hopefully someone in the editing department would make it seem real. Still, Hyunjin was going to try his hardest to genuinely play. He hated pretending.
“Close your eyes,” The lady mumbled, an annoyed tone that frankly felt unwarranted. He followed the instructions, and felt the tip of a brush poking at his eyes as she reapplied some of the darker eyeshadow. The concept for this album was pop-rock, leaning heavily into the rock, and so their makeup was inspired from the 1980s world of rock.
“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asked, as she used a little too much force on him, making his eyes water under the sharp brush.
“Hmm?” She was none the wiser, and he suddenly wondered if he should backtrack, but he wouldn’t be able to continue the filming knowing one of their makeup artists was possibly mad at him. “You…seem upset” He said. 
A sigh followed, “I’m not upset, I just think you should take better care of yourself. Jisung was right, you know? Your face does cost us thousand of won. I understand you’ve just come back from vacation but if you don’t do your job, it’s very difficult for me to do mine”
“Right” He nodded, sudden guilt overwhelming him, “Can I open my eyes now?”
With the confirmation, he did and looked at her, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful in the future” 
She smiled, pulling at his cheek, “It’s good to have you back, kid”
Within seconds, the set jumped back to life. Chan ran onto the stage, getting into his position, and Changbin followed. They were both visibly upset, due to the company not allowing them to sing live, but years in this industry had made them numb to some of that anger. Hyunjin took his place on the stage, as the cameras adjusted and thirty-something people gathered before them, ready to film. He wished he could sneak one look in the mirror before filming, for the reassurance that he didn’t look like a total clown, but he trusted the kind makeup lady. 
“All right, boys” Chan looked at them, microphone stand in his hands, “From the top, yeah?”
The backing track began on cue, and Hyunjin’s heart pounded like it hadn’t in ages. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to do a full-fledged music video shoot so soon after the hiatus. Did he even remember his chords right? The audience may not be looking at his hands, but he sure as hell would be. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a breath, hoping he didn’t mess up for the sake of their team. Millions of people would watch this. Thousands would instantly know they weren’t actually singing, and he had grown tired of the accusations. Most of those people would be rooting for his failure, and he could imagine the myriad of hate comments about how Hyunjin should never have returned to the band. Maybe it was a mistake being back in the spotlight so soon. Chan’s hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He leaned in to whisper, loud enough for only Hyunjin to hear, “Forget everyone else, Jinnie. She’s going to love this”
A surprised smile tugged on Hyunjin’s lips just as the spotlight hit him, and the camera began rolling.
»»————-
Later that night, Jisung crawled into his bed. He pulled the blue comforter off Hyunjin’s aching legs, settling cross-legged across him. The filming had taken a toll on him, and he’d really let himself go when he was away. It usually took a lot more to get him this tired, and he was still adjusting to this new schedule. Jisung leaned against the wall, releasing a sigh of contentment. This had become second nature to them, a routine to sit, talk, and catch up on the past few months of summer. They’d stayed in touch through text, but it wasn’t the same. Some nights, they’d go for a walk, find an open barbecue place, and eat into the early hours of dawn. Other nights, they’d stay in the dorm and order some cheesecake, and Jisung would tell him everything he missed. Every anecdote, each funny moment, painstaking details of how many different ways he’d embarrassed himself. Hyunjin had missed a lot, so he’d sit and listen to the tales of the city that he’d pined for all this while. It was good to return to the life he’d left behind. Everything was different here, and sometimes it felt like summer had existed in a void away from the world. Jisung would also ask him about his hometown, but Hyunjin never knew where to start, so he preferred to listen to Jisung instead. He had a lot more to say anyway. 
Tonight was different. Jisung asked him about you.
And that wasn’t the routine.
“I don’t really know what you want me to tell you” Hyunjin laughed, and they were both tucked into blankets, like kids bonding at their first sleepover. 
“You’ve talked about this girl all freaking summer, and now you have nothing to say?”
“Well, yeah, you already know everything” Hyunjin mumbled, flush rising up. They never had this dynamic before, this…sharing of crushes, or whatever it could be called. Jisung was usually the one in relationships out of the two of them, and Hyunjin would never bug him about it. Not until Jisung told him himself. So, Hyunjin didn’t know what to say.
“Yeah, I know the shortened version you sent over text, but…how’d she react when you said you’re coming back?”
Hyunjin swallowed, memories flashing through his mind of his last night in his hometown, “She was really upset”
“Upset, like…didn’t talk to you kind of upset, or…had sex with you before you left— upset?”
The words sent a flush up Hyunjin’s neck, and he knew this was exactly what Jisung wanted. This was his intention. To embarrass him. To celebrate this new dynamic, when Hyunjin was the one with a stupid crush and not the other way around.
“We didn’t have sex” He clarified. Jisung’s eyes widened, “Really? Not even on the last night?”
Hyunjin leaned his head against the wall, playing with the threads of the blanket. The last night was complicated, for all the right and the wrong reasons, so he settled for the most matter-of-fact answer, “I didn’t have any condoms”
“Shut up, I know that’s not true. I sent you like a huge box your first week in Daejon. Don’t tell me you never used them…”
Hyunjin laughed at the memory, “Thank you for that Jisung, but…I’d already packed it away. I didn’t really expect anything to happen anyway. I thought she’d be too upset at me for leaving”
“So…that’s the only reason?”
Hyunjin swallowed, knowing that if perhaps they’d had an hour longer together that night, things would probably have led straight to that, condoms or no condoms, “Well…we were out of time”
“You spent months with this girl. How were you out of time?”
Hyunjin sighed, “There was no right moment. I didn’t want it to be rushed—”
“No rush? As if you wouldn’t bust a nut as soon as you’re—” Jisung was interrupted with a smack in the face by a pillow, voice turning high, “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”
“I’m not talking about this anymore” Hyunjin laughed, the red reaching the tips of his ears.
“That’s pretty unfair, you know. I used to tell you every detail of my relationship with Mae, down to the nitty-gritty details”
Hyunjin looked up at him. It had been a while since he’d talked about Mae so freely, and he swallowed, “How are you holding up?”
Jisung’s smile fell, humorous demeanour disappearing in seconds, “She’s happy now”
The statement meant so much more than he let on. Happy now. As in, she wasn’t happy before, when she was dating Jisung. Thinking back on it now, their breakup had been explosive, and it seemed like Jisung was still picking up the pieces. Was this what the rest of Hyunjin’s life would look like? Surrounded by miserable relationships destroyed by their careers. He can’t recall the last time he witnessed a love story with a happy ending. He sighed, “That sucks man”
Jisung shrugged, “It is what it is”
Hyunjin stretched out his legs under the blanket, letting out a soft groan, “Man, my limbs haven’t hurt like this in ages”
Jisung rolled his eyes, “You’re getting soft, big boy. We’re hitting the studio tomorrow at six. Album release is only a month away now”
His phone buzzed and he reached for it immediately. “Is that her?” Jisung asked, smiling.
“Yup” Hyunjin typed in a quick text to you, “She’s…telling me about her day”
“Is that all you guys do?” Jisung asked, a smirk on his face, scrolling up on their chats, without permission. He let out a dramatic gasp, “What are you writing her all these long-ass paragraphs for? It feels like I’m reading a book. Big red flag. At least break it up into multiple texts”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I mean, there’s a lot she’s interested to know about my life here. I like telling her what we’re up to. If you see it from an outside perspective, it’s pretty cool. She really loves it”
Jisung laughed, eyebrows wiggling like a kid, “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what she loves”
Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Stop. We’re just…really close friends now”
“Does she know that?”
He didn’t like this conversation anymore and what it implied. He informed him for the umpteenth time, “I told her from the start that I don’t do relationships. She knows.”
Jisung was still scrolling through their chat, probably hoping to find something steamy but stopped at the media that Hyunjin had shared, letting out a gasp, “Wait a minute. Have you been sending her our studio recordings?” 
“Yes” Hyunjin frowned, “She likes those”
“You know, Eunwoo would have a heart attack if he knew you were leaking unreleased music”
Hyunjin sighed. Jisung was always so dramatic. “I’m not leaking anything. It’s only to her. She’s not going to show anyone”
“And how do you know that?”
“I trust her” Hyunjin’s reply was automatic, “More than anything”
Jisung smiled, eyes crinkling, tilting his head, “Even more than me?”
He chuckled, grabbing his phone back, “Shut up”
»»————-
He had been waking up earlier than usual, and he’d find himself at the kitchen table first thing in the morning, watching the sun rise through their apartment window. It was always fun to greet the boys as soon as they woke. He’d missed them for so long and he was trying to cherish every moment with them. Jisung would joke about how obsessed he was with them, often hovering like a parent around the house in the morning, waiting for their kids to wake up. It was strange because Hyunjin wasn’t an early riser, but his thirst to spend time with them overpowered his desire to lay in bed. He sat at the kitchen island scribbling ideas in a little journal Changbin bought him. It had admittedly become his diary, filled with crazy ideas, midnight thoughts, and sketches for paintings. 
The dance practices had got easier in the past weeks, and his limbs felt lighter. It almost took no time for him to get back to normal, sucked into the whirlpool of obligations that his life offered. There were so many interviews, press junkets, editorials, and he was back in the studio every night. He’d missed that grandly — getting to work on the music and, for the first time, writing his songs into the album. All of that made everything else worth it — like when they couldn’t leave their dorm because it was surrounded by paparazzi. They’d crowded around the building, hoping to get a glimpse at or any comments out of Jisung. Unfortunately, Jisung was still in the middle of a huge legal battle with the media that had leaked every detail of his personal life and relationship. Hyunjin didn’t understand how Jisung managed to still be so sane, after something like that rocked his world.
But slowly, he carved time in his life to start painting again, between schedules of course. An art shop in Hongdae was perfect for his needs. It was small and convenient, and he could be away from the public eye when he was in it. He found time for you. In changing rooms, backstage, in five-minute breathers between practice, he’d text you when he could. 
“You’re up early” Chan smiled, and Hyunjin looked up at him. He was already dressed, and he moved towards the light switch, turning them on, “You’re drawing in the dark?”
“It’s peaceful” Hyunjin hummed, “On set…it’s always too bright”
“Ah. Right. What are you sketching this time?” Chan moved over to him, glimpsing into his diary. 
“Just…a rough map of home. I’m writing down all the places, I wanna remember it. I don’t know when I’ll go back”
Chan smiled thoughtfully, “Is that your plan for the day?”
“No, actually, I was just about to head out to buy some flowers. I really want to draw some white hydrangeas, they won’t be in bloom for longer, and I’m hoping I can capture their whole life cycle”
Chan laughed, “Wow. It’s only six am and you’re already talking romance”
Hyunjin flushed, “It’s just for my drawings. I want to get better at observation. Speaking of, can I come watch you in the gym later? I…think I’ll draw you next”
Chan moved around the island, prepping a morning smoothie, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Jinnie”
“Of course not” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, continuing to add details to his little map, right now he was adding the 7/11 between your house and Aera’s. 
“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be possible Jinnie. And…you’re probably gonna have to get the flowers tomorrow” Chan suddenly said, filling up the blender with ingredients.
Hyunjin frowned, “What do you mean?” But of course, Chan turned the blender on right then, so Hyunijn had to wait until he was done to find out. The loud whizzing sound filled the kitchen, and if the other boys weren’t up yet, they certainly would be now.
“Sorry about that” Chan apologised sheepishly, pouring the smoothie into four cups, and then eyed Hyunjin’s pajamas, “You should change into a coat, something warm. It’s chilly out”
Hyunjin tilt his head, suspicious, “Why?”
Chan slid him the smoothie, which Hyunjin hadn’t even asked for, and then grinned, “I’m kidnapping you”
“What?” He laughed, reaching for the cup anyway. He might as well start drinking healthy.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Jinnie. She’s a prodigy, she owns like a gazillion art galleries across the country, and she wants to meet you”
“Since when are you interested in art?” Hyunjin hummed, trying not to gag at the taste of the drink. It was all protein powder and whey. Chan smiled at the sight, leaning forward on the counter, “Since my best friend started drawing masterpieces, of course. Go get changed. I’ll drive us there, and if we have time before going to set, we just might be able to buy your flowers”
»»————-
The paintings in the art gallery were beautiful, and Chan was a good sport, taking just enough interest in the art that Hyunjin felt important in explaining all the techniques. They’d wandered around for a while now, eyeing every exhibition. Enough time had passed as they stood observing the room of sculptures, and Chan nudged him. He was diverting his attention to a woman with a tablet in hand as she walked around the space. The apparent prodigy. She seemed busy, pushing buttons on the tablet as she inventoried the place, a flurry of rich visitors following her around. Hyunjin had seen her before, and he asked, “Does she work in our building by any chance?”
“She certainly does. Hey, Karina!” He suddenly called out, “This is Hyunjin”
Hyunjin went wide-eyed and awkward, certainly unprepared to meet someone so important out of the blue, but Karina seemed sweet enough. Her gaze caught his, widening when she noticed them. She whispered something to her über important guests, and then walked over to them, all prim and poise. She certainly looked the part of an art gallery owner, although Hyunjin had never seen one so young before. She shot him a smile, “Ah. I’ve heard so much about you, Hyunjin”
“Oh no” Hyunjin had a funny feeling in his stomach, “What did Chan say?”
She laughed, “Nothing too bad. He showed me some of your work”
“He what?” Hyunjin cringed, “I’m sorry about that”
She laughed again, “Don’t apologise. Your work’s pretty good. Even before Chan, you were kind of hard to miss actually. Your face is plastered all across the company building”
Hyunjin cringed yet again, clasping his hands together, “I’m…sorry about that. That’s embarrassing”
She laughed, “Not at all. So…do you like the collection?”
Hyunjin looked around, nodding, “Oh. Of course! It’s beautiful. I love the exhibit, and I can’t believe you have some Monet up too. That must have been hard to get”
She tilt her head, an admiring smile on her face, “It certainly was. The job’s not easy, but I enjoy it a lot. We try to stick to contemporary work, switching up exhibits every month or so. You’re lucky you caught us during Monet. We’re having those shipped back to Paris soon”
Hyunjin nodded, hands slipping into his pockets, “Paris. Wow…”
“Actually I don’t have too much time, so I’m going to cut to the chase” She smiled, “The reason I asked Chan if I could meet you was…if you’d ever be interested, I wouldn’t be opposed to hosting an exhibition for your work”
His eyes widened, a surprised chuckle escaping him, “What? I’m literally just starting out. Experimenting…I don’t even have a specific art style yet or much original work…”
Karina shook her head as if all of that was an afterthought, “We already know it’ll be a hit. You’re very loved, especially in Seoul”
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would an actual, real-life gallery ever want to exhibit his work? He barely had work to begin with! All he’d done was post a few artworks on his Instagram, and mentioned that he liked drawing in an interview, “But I’m not a professional, by any means, I just…do it because I enjoy it”
She smiled, “Precisely. It’d be nice to give new artists a voice. Sooner or later, some art gallery is going to snatch you up. I’d prefer if we were the first. There’s a lot of interest in you by the public. It’d be a loss to not display your work. If there’s anything I learnt from Kim Jieong it was—”
“Wait, you know Kim Jieong?” Hyunjin forgot his manners, interrupting her, especially in such an excitement, but he couldn’t help himself.
Karina laughed, eyes narrowing, “Are you a fan?”
“No, but my girlfr-“ Hyunjin stopped in his sentence, clearing his throat, and he could feel Chan’s gaze burn curiously into him, “Um…one of my friends is. He’s her favourite artist in the world”
“Well…I wouldn’t give him so much credit” Karina spoke, clutching the tablet tightly, “But yes, I used to intern with him earlier”
He was too straightforward, but he didn’t care, “Do you think you could help me get in touch with him? I’m sorry, I realise that’s a big favour and—”
Her expression changed, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. My relationship with Jieong…is complicated. But, if you’d really like maybe I could help you set up a meeting or something”
“Really?” His eyes lit up, and the conversation had completely sidetracked but it didn’t matter, “That would mean everything to me. Thank you”
“Of course. I can’t promise anything. This may be TMI, but he and I aren’t on the best terms. He is a wonderful artist though. I’ll give him that”
“Thank you, Karina” He smiled, genuinely. A security guard came up, tapping her on the shoulder. She nodded at him, and then looked back at Hyunjin, “I'm sorry I have to get going, there's been an incident involving a spill in the impressionist gallery …but the offer’s always up for the exhibition, by the way. Eunwoo could give you my contact details. I think you’d made a great addition to my portfolio, Hyunjin”
He smiled, but all he could focus on was that she knew Kim Jieong. Hope festered in his heart that maybe now he could finally get you the chance you deserved.
»»————-
The Hydrangeas bloomed beautifully on Hyunjin’s desk. He’d been drawing them all afternoon, and he looked forward to seeing their state change as he came home each night from work. It felt silly, but summer flowers reminded him of you. The vase needed fresh water, and he stopped sketching to go up to the kitchen and fill it up. The boys were gathered around the dining table, just about to head out to the studio, and Chan was preparing cocktails. Hyunijn switched on the water tap, absentmindedly watching the vase fill up, listening to their conversations. 
Karina still hadn’t got back to him, but he was holding onto hope. It had only been a week since their conversation after all. His days since then had been busy so he couldn't worry too much about it, occupied by schedules, he’d also managed to squeeze in time for himself now. It seemed like going back to his hometown had been genuinely helpful. It had fulfilled its purpose. He’d come back to work, feeling a new kick in energy and joie de vivre. There was hardly any sadness like before, and that's all Hyunjin could have asked for from his little vacation anyway.
Since his return, there had been some changes to the company too. He’d discovered a new library, hidden in their building, somewhere on the fourth floor, and he’d been frequenting it during his breaks. Every morning, he picked a new book to read and would fixate on it for the next week and a half. Barely any employees ever came to the library, other than HR sometimes, and it was a nice escape. He could imagine that you’d really love the library, full of nooks and crannies begging to be found and thousands of books aching to be read.
He discovered he had an affinity for poetry, and some poems never left his mind. There was one in particular by Kim Yong-Taek that occupied all the space in his head. 
눈 내리기 전에 / Before the snow falls,  한번 보고 싶습니다 / I would love to see you.
They felt real, as if they’d been written only for him, and shivers often ran up his skin as he stood reading them quietly, a deep ache in his heart at the familiarity of the words. It was crazy that something written hundreds of years ago could capture exactly what Hyunjin was feeling right now. He hoped he could make music that felt the same to others. The longing in his bones only got worse each day, and he was making a plan to fix it. Summer had been beautiful, even contending for his favourite season, but it was ending, and he would do anything to make autumn just as beautiful.
»»————-
Sleep clouded his vision, the song's melody blending with his drowsiness. It had been a week of rerecordings and they’d barely got any rest. Hyunjin tugged the headphones off, glancing at Chan through the observation window, “Was that a good take?”
Chan gave him a thumbs up through the window. His energy had been deflated too, but Hyunjin was hoping for a better response, “Are you sure? I can do another take. I think…it doesn’t sound as emotional as Jisung’s verse”
Hyunjin could only just about see Chan’s eyes, squinted over the mask he wore. The decision to cover his face was obvious; there was a little camera propped up in the studio, a way to film behind-the-scenes content for when the album finally released. Chan obviously didn’t want to be captured in this sleep-deprived state. Still, Hyunjin would have loved to see his expression, the microscopic changes in his face would tell him if he really loved the recording or not.
Chan nodded, weary eyes, “If you think you can do a better take, go for it, Hyunjin”
So he did, inhaling a breathful of air so he wouldn’t falter during his lines. He’d sounded too emotionless and mechanical and they were recording a love song. He had to pour his feelings into it, so he closed his eyes. The lyrics were embedded into his brain anyway. 
Chan began the backing track, and Hyunjin let his thoughts drift... They wandered into a familiar memory, one he usually saved for bedtime and when he was alone. His mind kept coming back to it. It was so fresh, but each day it was fading away, slipping out of his grasp and he felt the need to bottle up the memory and store it in a safe forever, where it would always be remembered. The twinkling fairy lights of the Château, the blue paint puddle on the floor, the paint you spilled on his shirt, the heated and frenzied first, second…and third kisses. The moment had been so short-lived. He had been so vulnerable that night. You’d seen him that night, truly seen him, and he still felt surprised at how much he’d divulged in you so easily. It was the realest he’d ever felt, like the rest of his life before and after was just a charade for his friends, for the cameras, for himself.
Maybe it was only with you that he was the real Hyunjin. The teasing and laughs over the chocolate strawberries and paint easels had been second nature and strangely familiar, like it wasn’t your first time doing this together, as if you had both been falling into patterns and habits of centuries ago. The most innocent actions felt crude, and cruel. Crude to kiss your cheek but not take it further. Cruel to give in to a desire he could never fulfil. Maybe every other moment in his life had been fabricated except for that night, that would explain why he was the happiest then. 
“Shit…what was that?” A voice interrupted him. Hyunjin snapped open his eyes to see Chan staring at him in disbelief. The backing track had gone onto the next verse now. He cleared his throat, “Um. Sorry I….spaced out. Let me record that again”
“Are you kidding me? That’s the best take you’ve ever given us” Chan laughed, in disbelief, stepping into the recording booth, “You sold that to me completely, Fuck. You almost made me tear up. You should do more ballads, Jinnie. That was amazing”
Hyunjin blinked at him, holding onto his headphones tightly, so unaware of himself, “I…I didn’t realise it was that good”
“Come on. Listen to it” Chan grabbed his arm, leading him out, and replaying what had just been recorded. Hyunjin almost didn’t recognise himself singing. He’d never sang like this before. Goosebumps rippled up his arms and neck, and he looked at Chan, “You’re right. That one turned out…really good”
“Damn. You can convince the audience that you’ve lived a thousand lives, been through a hundred heartbreaks. You convinced me. That was so real”
Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, and he pushed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, “It felt real to me too”
Chan wrapped up the recording, and then happily turned the company camera off, “Do you know what this means, Jinnie?”
“What?” Hyunjin asked, grateful they weren’t being recorded anymore. 
Chan stepped closer to him, a growing smile on his face, “We fucking finished this album, baby”
»»————-
Hyunjin was changing the water in the vase. He’d been desperately trying to keep the Hydrangeas alive, but that had been a failing task. So he’d found some time to buy some Cosmos, hoping he could draw them instead. It was almost autumn now, and the flower in bloom had changed, so he kept trying to adjust to it. It was harder than he thought. Chan's voice distracted him, “Are you coming to dinner with us? We’re thinking of trying that new Italian place”. Hyunjin looked up at him, “Shit. Is it okay if I bail? I was going to call Y/N later tonight. She wanted to paint together”
His eyebrows shot up, a small smile on his face, “Paint together? Is that a euphemism?”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, switching the water tap off, “No. It's obviously not”
“Wouldn’t you love if it was?” Jisung smirked at him, walking into the kitchen. It seemed like all their serious, and unserious conversations often took place in this kitchen, their one common space. Chan laughed, “So how long will your paint date last? Should we bring you any takeout pizza?”
Hyunjin shrugged, glancing at the clock, “No, that’s okay, I’m not hungry. It’ll last a few hours maybe. Next week we’re going to be so busy with the press tour, I was hoping to finish a whole painting tonight. It’s easier if I’m doing it with her. I’m just more motivated then”
“There’s a word for that, you know?” Chan leaned forward on the counter, a teasing smile on his face, “She’s your proper muse”
Hyunjin laughed, not expecting him to say that, but he had been thinking about it. After all, that’s what had made the recordings so much easier. He was singing with you in mind. He denied it, “That’s really cheesy, even for you, Chan…”
“Eh, but it’s true. You should tell her that tonight”
Hyunjin smiled, already imagining your reaction to such a thing. He wouldn’t even know how he’d bring it up. Wouldn’t it be too much? Would you be embarrassed? He could recall all the times he’d catch you off guard with his compliments back in Daejon, your expression as if he’d said the most insane thing ever when Hyunjin was just appreciating you. Fuck. He really needed to see that reaction in person again. 
Every perfect summer memory only added to the weight of his longing in fall, and he decided it was time, “I’m gonna invite her to come to Seoul”
Changbin stood across the hall, having just come out of his room to catch the last bit of conversation. His eyebrows shot up, “You are…?”
Hyunjin swallowed, catching the boys' reactions as he revealed the plan, “I just bought the train tickets for her this morning, and while she's here she can stay in an apartment I rented out for her. It’s a few blocks away from ours, so she’s close enough to me, without it being suspicious”
Jisung frowned, “But if you rented it, your name would go down in the record”
“No, I already thought of that. I asked to use my aunt’s credit card, and she’s not a Hwang, so there won’t be any trace back to me”
Jisung leaned back in his chair, “You really thought of everything, huh? No loopholes?”
“No loopholes” Hyunjin nodded, hoping they’d approve of it because something like this would put them all under scrutiny and risk, “Well, as long as she says yes”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Changbin frowned, crossing his arms, “If I was her, I’d jump at the chance”
“Yeah, I know you would. There’s an apprenticeship she wanted in the city…but she didn’t get it yet. She may not want to come here anymore…in case it reminds her of that”
“Is there any chance she can still get it?”
Hyunjin shrugged, placing his palms on the counter as he thought over it, “I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to figure it out”
Chan sighed, seeing his dilemma, “Hey, if it’s in the stars…she’ll get it. She seems talented enough from what you tell me about her”
“She’s hellbent on believing she can’t get it. I’m going to try to convince her to apply again. It’s kind of frustrating. Without connections, it’s so hard to make anything out of it. I mean, when we were at the gallery, you introduced me to Karina. It was so easy. She saw my work, and immediately agreed to a fucking exhibition. Sometimes it feels kind of unfair. What did I do to deserve that? I know there are hundreds of artists better than me who should be getting exhibitions, but…I’m getting it just because I’m famous. It feels weird and privileged”
Chan sighed, “Hyun…I know what you mean, but…it’s unfortunately how things are. And it’s not like you’re misusing this. The fact that you recognise it in the first place is sometimes all we can do”
Hyunjin let out an exhale, staring off into the distance, when his phone pinged. It was a text from you.
hey! im all set up here. ready when you are :)
Chan grinned, handing him a cocktail he’d just made, “Go on then. We’ll head to dinner and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Hyunjin smiled, rushing back to his room. In anticipation of this call, he’d already set up his work area. Ever since he’d been back, he hadn’t gotten too much time talking to you, so he would make the most of it. He set his glass down next to his MacBook, and laid out his canvas. Through the computer screen, he could see a glimpse of your room, which was messier than his. It had more personality, and it was more lived in. He realised he’d never had a chance to come to your place. He had a sudden urge to see how you set up your room and things, your little knick-knacks, the big teddy he won for you, your artwork curated over years. But from hundreds of miles of away, he could only see a little square of your life. You were biting down on a chip when he spoke, “I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan”
Your face changed, lighting up, “Yeah?” 
The connection wasn’t great, so all your responses were delayed, but Hyunjin hummed, proud, “It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”
“When can I hear it?” 
He laughed at your eagerness, “We’re still writing it”
You nodded, going back to painting. He would surprise you soon with the ticket he bought you to Seoul, but he wanted to build up to it. Perhaps he could do a grand gesture, or leave you little hints to keep you wondering. He could only imagine how happy you’d be. He could show you his favourite places in the city, introduce you to the boys and you could finally see his life, in all it’s glory. It only felt fair after you’d let him into yours so warmly. He had fit into your life in town so easily, a puzzle piece falling into place, and he hoped he could make it the same for you. Obviously, there’d be less freedom, more restrictions but at least you wouldn’t be a stranger to his lifestyle anymore. Hyunjin took a moment to sip his drink, staring at his own work. getting the courage to say it, “Can I say something cheesy?”
“Yeah?”
He leaned over the webcam, so he could be infinitesimally closer to you, cheeks reddening, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”
He watched as you sat on your knees, curious, “What do you think about?”
He flushed, regretting how this made him sound so romantic when he wasn't trying to be, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”
He saw your eyes widen, and a deep emotion overwhelmed you. He didn’t see you react more, and he wondered what this meant to you, what he meant to you right now, even so far away. You didn't say anything back. You must be holding it all in, just like him. Maybe you didn’t know how to put your thoughts into words. He couldn't blame you. Even after reading all the poems in the world, Hyunjin didn’t have the words either. Not enough anyway.
»»————-
It was supposed to be an informal gathering to celebrate the album, but it felt more like a full-fledged party. Their manager’s apartment had been completely transformed, no empty floor space as everybody from the company had gathered around for a hurrah. Hyunjin had a few drinks in his system already, enough to get him really going. He stood away from the crowd, tucked into a corner, phone pulled out, typing in a ridiculously cheesy message to you. The party was great, and he was so happy to have finished the album. All that was missing was you. The text started sounding far too cheesy, inspired by the love rot that the poetry books had filled in his brain, and slowly, it became more and more unhinged. The wine Chan brought must have got to his head, but he couldn't stop, all of his thoughts pouring out in a mixture of sentences that didn't really make any sense.
I want you here with me at this party. Fuck, it’s so dull without you. If you were here, we could just sneak off and…I would kiss you. Positively. My manager is here, the scary one, but he doesn’t have to know. Earlier, I was reading a book and there was an English word in it that reminded me of you. Saudade. I looked it up because I was so curious and it said it’s a state of melancholy for a beloved someone or something. I think that explains this ridiculous feeling I have when I think of you. I have it even when I’m not thinking of you. Like last week, when we were recording this one song. It’s like you’re here with me in everything. I guess what I’m saying is, I just want to kiss you really really badly and fuck I’m really drunk so I’m sorry for how this may sound but I just really need to feel you—
The phone was snatched from his hands, Changbin squinting to read the message, “Who are you texting in the middle of our party?”
Hyunjin flushed red. He was really drunk but he still noticed their manager to the side, and hushed, “Keep your voice down, Binnie”
He looked up, eyes wide, “Is this your idea of a sext?”
“What? no— it’s not a sext. I’m not sexting, what the hell”
“You’re like…weirdly poetic when you’re drunk”
Hyunjin closed his eyes, “Just…give me that”
He deleted the message. 
It was a bad idea to be sending you drunk messages anyway. He should just call you instead. Yeah. That sounded like a smarter, much better idea. Before he could dial your number, Changbin pulled him to the living room, and Hyunjin let himself be tugged along. Jisung was standing shirtless there, liquid smeared down his chest and abs. He was laughing, hair all messed up, clearly very tipsy, “Come on! Who’s next?”
Hyunjin did not intend to be a part of whatever this was, but Changbin pushed him ahead, “He’s up” But they were surrounded by company employees. Even the girl from the art gallery, Karina, was here and he flushed from the embarrassment. “I don’t even know what we’re doing” Hyunjin chuckled nervously, as Changbin hoisted him up over the table, handing him a quick shot to get the nerves out. Hyunjin downed it in a single sip, the liquid burning his throat. The state of his sobriety stopped him from protesting too much, until Jisung explained, “Body shots, of course. Pick your contender, Jinnie”
Hyunjin’s eyes widened, looking around the bunch of people, none of whom he felt comfortable touching him, but he saw a few of the women shy away, “I…I don’t know”
“I’ll do it” Chan laughed, stepping ahead from the crowd, “If that’s okay with you”
Jisung certainly seemed to have enjoyed it, and he wanted to give it a shot. He could be chill with this, but he would definitely blame the alcohol in him for how easily he went down on the table, and how easily he let Chan unbutton his black shirt. The overhead lights were too bright and Hyunjin closed his eyes, and his head was spinning. The music was pounding in his ears, the marble countertop cold to his back.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this” He laughed to himself, swept up in the environment as Changbin dripped tequila over his stomach. The chill liquid tickled him and he immediately squirmed, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt embarrassed for his reaction. Clearly, he was a novice to this party celebration, but he was also enjoying the attention.
“You ready, Jinnie?” Chan asked, looking up at him with a comforting smile. Chan was definitely drunk too in order to pull a stunt like this in front of the employees. They were absolutely loving it though and he could hear them all cheer them on. They never got to see the members in a more unprofessional environment than this one, and Hyunjin hoped none of them changed their opinion of him after this. He gave a quick thumbs up, facing the ceiling as he felt Chan’s mouth near his stomach. He sucked in a breath in anticipation, cheeks flushing from all this attention. He was used to people’s eyes on him, but this was so different and intimate. Somehow, his self-conscious part disappeared just as Chan licked a stripe of tequila up Hyunjin’s torso. He squirmed, a giggle escaping at the ticklish feeling, and Chan held him down, hand on his thigh, laughing, “Stop moving! You’ll get it on the table!”
Hyunjin stilled with the threat of ruining their manager’s table, eyes still closed as Chan finished licking the rest up until his chest, and his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t help but imagine this situation differently. Would you have partaken in this with him? How would that have looked like? If it was you doing this to him, instead of Chan? The little party activity would definitely have turned into something else by the end of it…and he knows he definitely would not be able to resist, not when your tongue was on his stomach and you were so close to him. The image sent a rush of blood through his body, thoughts that he should definitely not be indulging in when his best friend was doing body shots off him, and Hyunjin immediately sat up, bumping his head right into Chan’s. “Ouch!” Chan exclaimed, clutching his forehead, “Careful, Jin!”
“Um, sorry” He swallowed, jumping off the counter, embarrassment lingering from how he'd stupidly turned himself on in front of everyone he knew, “I felt sick”
“No worries” Chan laughed, oblivious to his friend's thoughts, patting his shoulder as everybody around them continued cheering them on, “You did good”
Hyunjin walked away, feeling sticky now, and he tried to wipe off the remaining with a kitchen towel. If it was you, he would have let you go all the way, until every stripe of tequila was gone from his body. And then some more.
He buttoned his shirt up again, hands shaking from the buzz, blood rushing to the parts that needed his attention. He needed to hear your voice. You didn’t even know he was at this party. It was so inconvenient to be so far away, trying to convey all that he felt through a mere text or phone call. He stood to the side, shaky fingers pulling up your contact until he heard your voice on the other end. “Guess what?” Hyunjin grinned.
“What?” Your voice was soft on the other end, so calm, grounding him in his drunkenness. A stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of his party and he could think straight again. Hyunjin smiled, “We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready. We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”
He felt excited to hear your reaction. He was grinning ear to ear, as you congratulated him. He’d heard that today many times, but hearing it from you was incomparable. You were proud of him. He giggled, stumbling out of the hallway, blood rushing to his head, “Jisung made me drink…far too much. I liked the wine, though; Chan found it in this cool store, but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of —” 
“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him.
Hyunjin nodded, walking around, trying to avoid anybody being able to pick up on his conversation. So many people were in this tiny apartment, and he wished he had more peace and quiet to talk to you. “It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”
“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke.
“Sorry” He apologised, walking off towards the balcony, “Can you hear me now?”
“Yeah, I can”
“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He mumbled, voice dropping, and the rest of this party was fading from his vision, tunnel vision to you and your voice on the other end, “Why aren’t you here?”
Hyunjin thinks the only way he can stop missing you is if you start visiting him in your dreams. He wonders what sorcery he needs to do for that to happen. Could he visit you in your dreams? So you never grow apart, and find each other every single night. “I miss you too….but you should get back to the party—”
Hyunjin failed to notice Changbin creeping up on him, taking the phone away, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?”
“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin sighed, all his poetic declarations disappearing into the void. At this point, he thinks he needs to maintain another diary just to write all the things he wishes to say to you but never does.
“Hey!” Changbin was talking to you, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”
“Stop!” Hyunjin exclaimed, realising their managers stood nearby and the commotion had caught their ears, “Don’t announce it to the entire party.” Changbin laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”
“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin tried to grab it.
“Let me finish!” Changbin laughed. Hyunjin’s head began to ache when he saw Jisung approach their chaos, “Fuck. Is that her?”
“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” He sounded like a broken record, like all his primary functions had ceased and wouldn’t function until he heard your voice again. “Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?” Jisung asked, loudly. It was loud enough that their managers heard it, ears perking up and glancing at Hyunjin. One of their managers, Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. This was the first he’d heard of this, and goosebumps rippled up Hyunjin’s neck at what this could mean.
His voice dropped, stepping back towards his meddling friends, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”
“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted, oblivious to his surroundings. Hyunjin yanked the phone back, and he was pissed, but he wouldn’t blame them. They were only messing about. He let out a breath, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”
Your voice sounded far away, resigned, “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You should enjoy the party, Hyun” Panic built up in his throat at the thought of you leaving, “No, no, I called you because I missed you”
“I can’t really even hear you,” You said, crushing his heart and soul to irreparable pieces. Maybe he was being dramatic, but perhaps he needed you to breathe, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”
Hyunjin was ready to protest, bear his heart out to keep you a little while longer. What was the point of celebrating his success if he couldn't share it with you right now? Isn't that why he'd pushed himself so hard this time? So he could impress you with all the songs he'd written with only you in mind. He’d leave the party if he had to, just so you wouldn’t go. Before he could declare his insanity of wanting to talk to you, Eunwoo stepped closer to him. His eyes were narrowed, a tell-tale sign, disapproving head tilt. Hyunjin had lost the opportunity, and he said, “All right. I’ll call you later”
With no qualms about destroying the party's vibe, Eunwoo asked curiously, “Who are you talking to?”
“Nobody” Hyunjin panicked, hanging up. He shoved the phone into his pocket, and it burned into him. Eunwoo sighed, “I heard Jisung mention a girlfriend. Is there something you want to share?”
He shook his head, unease settling into him or maybe he was just about to throw the fuck up, “Can we…not talk about this right now? I mean, we’re at a party”
Eunwoo stared at him, as if dissecting all of Hyunjin's deepest, darkest secrets, gaze burning through him. Then he nodded with a smile, “Of course, Hyunjin. You should celebrate”
Hyunjin’s nerves calmed down and he began walking away. Maybe now he could return to enjoying the rest of the night.  But of course, Eunwoo stopped him, hand over his shoulder “We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning though. I want to see you seven AM, in my office”
Hyunjin suppressed a groan, bile rising up his throat at what this could possibly mean, “Oh. Okay”
Eunwoo patted his shoulder, before walking back to the party, “Don’t be late, Hwang”
»»————-
He definitely didn’t feel human stepping into the office, a mere three hours later. He hadn’t got any sleep. He had just enough time to head home, shower, and wipe the remnants of tequila off his stomach before heading here. The body shots didn’t sound like a great idea now. His shirt was sticky and ruined. His head hurt, and he was surprised that Eunwoo wasn’t hungover. He’d probably gouged on hangover soup last night, and he sat in a crisp suit-and-tie across the table. He looked up at him, cheery smile, “Morning, Hwang”
Hyunjin sat in the uncomfortable office chair, squinting against the lights that hurt his sensitive eyes, “Good morning…”
“Did you have a good time at the party last night?”
Hyunjin nodded, putting on a smile, “Yes. It was nice”
Eunwoo was their nicest manager, he’s the only reason Hyunjin had been able to go back home and he certainly liked him the most. He was miles better than Kim Soohyun, the guy who basically decided Hyunjin’s life. But now…it seemed like Eunwoo had been sent by his higher-ups to sweet-talk Hyunjin, “You certainly seemed to enjoy it, but sadly, I didn’t see too much of you. We would have liked to get a drink with you”
“Ah, I was with the boys most of the night” He answered. Could this meeting not have been an email? His head was pounding and he couldn’t focus on anything.
Eunwoo tilt his head, picking up on his irritation, “Say it. Whatever’s on your mind”
“No disrespect. I…just don’t understand why we need to talk about this right now”
“Why? Because it’s a Sunday and most people don’t have to go to work today, or because you drank too much last night?” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. There was a stress ball in his hands and Eunwoo kept tossing it back and forth. 
Hyunjin bit his lip, “No, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired”
“Because it may be a day off for everyone in the country, but not for you. I’m sure you’re aware of that. After all, superstars don’t get to where they are by slacking off”
Hyunjin frowned, “I understand. Is there a specific reason you wanted to see me today?”
Eunwoo put down the stress ball in his hands, expression suddenly turning serious, “Look, kid. If I could turn a blind eye to this, I would. Trust me. I hate doing this as much as you hate hearing it, but Kim Soohyun was at the party too. He overheard things. I’m accountable to him, and you’re accountable to me”
Hyunjin sank into his seat, “So…am I in trouble or something?”
Eunwoo clasped his hands, “Depends…did you do something to get you into trouble?”
“No, I didn’t, Eunwoo”
He leaned forward on the desk, hands folded under his chin, “There was quite a lot of talk about a girlfriend last night. You never mentioned that to me”
Hyunjin let out a sigh, “There’s no girlfriend. The boys were dicking around”
Eunwoo gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Then, who were you talking to? On the phone when I saw you? Surely your parents wouldn't be awake that late”
“Just…a friend from back home. They’re not important”
“Look, Hyunjin. I hate to pry. Your personal life is entirely yours but not when it concerns your image or the company, or god forbid, the media. If you are dating somebody, you have to let me know so I can be prepared for when it eventually gets out to the media”
Hyunjin’s head began to hurt exponentially more and maybe he should never have called you last night, “I’m not dating anybody, Eunwoo”
Eunwoo nodded. Clearly, he didn’t believe him. He’d known and managed Hyunjin for years. He'd known him since he was fifteen. He could see right through him and wished he was a better liar. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that”
Hyunjin sighed, sitting up straighter as if that could convince him better, “She’s just an old friend, from back home”
Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, and then leaned back in his chair, “Okay, I’ll believe you. I hope you’ve already passed along the contract to her”
He frowned, “What, the NDA? I’m not dating her, why does she have to sign it?”
“Well yes, you’re not, but clearly you and her are close if you’re drunk calling her from a work party. She could have the wrong idea, if she goes around telling people a different story…that’ll be a problem”
“She is not going to tell anyone”
“You don’t know what girls can be capable of to get fame. An argument with you, if someone bribes her, if she sees any opportunity, she could go to the media—”
“Y/N is not like that” Hyunjin interrupted, a surge of bitterness ripping through at the assumptions.
Eunwoo’s eyebrows shot up, “Y/N…that’s her name”
He wished he could take back that information. It was too late. He released a breath, “Look, you’re not making her sign any contracts. We’re not romantically involved. There are no legal obligations. Am I not even allowed to have fucking friends anymore?”
Eunwoo closed his eyes, “Don’t get angry on me, Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. This is how it’s been for years. The rules won’t change for you. It’s going to be difficult to manage these rumors after you already took half a year off to yourself and with Jisung’s trial and Chan and Kairi’s…whatever the hell they’re doing. You say you’re not dating this girl, I’m going to trust you on that. But if at any point that changes or the girl goes to the news, the company will have to step in. For example, she talks to somebody about her…special friendship with you. Kim Soohyun won’t think twice before suing her for defamation”
Hyunjin saw red, and he clenched his fists as to not react. Defamation? “I get it, Eunwoo”
He nodded, putting a document on the table and sliding it to him, “If anything changes, you have to let me know. I have to be ready to release a statement”
“What, a statement…for what?” Hyunjin stared at the files. An NDA and a press release statement. This was absolutely insane. Nothing had even happened, and they were preparing for the worst case scenario. No, they were waiting for it. 
“You’ve been in this industry long enough, Hwang. We must inform the public and fanbase…if you’re in a relationship. If we keep it to ourselves and it gets out anyway, the backlash would be immense. Now, don’t worry. We can always try to keep her identity secret if you’re worried about her safety and with threats and everything, but—”
Hyunjin stood up in panic, blood rushing to his head, “That’s not happening. There’s not gonna be any threats to her…or announcements”
Eunwoo looked up at him, blinking blankly, “Okay… I appreciate the sentiment but that’s not entirely in your hands. The press tour starts today. All eyes are going to be on the four of you. The whole damn country is talking about you, Hyunjin. We can’t afford a scandal. Kim Soohyun has me in a tight grip. I have faith in you that nothing happens to throw that off”
He swallowed, nails digging into his palm from his emotions, “Yeah. It won’t”
Clearly, his plans of bringing you to the city to visit him were down the fucking drain. He’d be lucky if he could even get a phone call with you anymore. 
“Also if you’re using the company phone to stay in contact with her, I suggest you change that. It shouldn’t be traced back to us”
Hyunjin nodded, and he wasn’t even dating you but the worst was already happening. This was what he’d feared the whole time. There was no point. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he asked, “Is that going to be all?”
Eunwoo nodded, “You should take these documents with you, just in case. HR were happy to print them out for me this morning. They also told me you’ve been hanging out in the romance section a lot in the company library”
So he had absolutely no privacy anymore either. Hyunjin snatched the folder, carelessly holding the files in his hand, with no intention of ever using them. He wouldn’t let the press statement or NDA document anywhere near you. In fact, they’d be tossed in the trash as soon as he was home. He headed for the door and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He needed to decompress. He couldn’t show up to practice this pissed and this wound up. He’d explode, and the boys didn’t deserve that. 
Eunwoo’s voice stopped him, “Oh, and congratulations, Hyunjin”
Hyunjin turned around, gripping the doorknob in blind fury. It felt like a taunt, a joke. There was nothing to congratulate him for. He couldn’t even keep his friends close without it exploding into a big deal. What did he even have to be grateful for? He looked right at Eunwoo, and his lack of sleep made him more irritable, “For…what?”
Eunwoo smiled warmly, his entire demeanour changing, “The album pre-sales are the biggest we’ve ever seen. You’re a global superstar now. You should feel very, very lucky, kid"
»»————-
“Can you stand still for me, please?” The assistant responsible for touching up Hyunjin’s face asked. He nodded, letting her put rosy tint on his cheeks, blending it with the contour. He’d been here for what easily felt like hours, and through the mirror he could see that Changbin was just about done with his makeup. 
The week leading up to the release was always the hardest. Somebody tugged at his hair and he resisted the urge to grimace. They didn’t deserve his terrible mood; they were only doing their job. The hairstylist apologised, noticing Hyunjin’s sour expression, “Sorry. Eunwoo said we need to get started on your hair right now; the other boys are already ready.” Hyunjin nodded, letting himself be manhandled by three different women as they struggled to put his hair into braids, “Have you been using the product we gave you?”
“Hmm?”
“Your hair’s thinning out, especially the bleached roots” The lady mumbled, disappointed.
“Yeah, I have” Truthfully he’d forgotten, a grave mistake for someone in his industry, but he’d been too caught up in everything else. His stomach rumbled and he hadn’t had time to grab breakfast this morning, so he looked around until he spotted one of their assistants, “Rowoon, could you please get me some honey butter chips—”
“Stay still, please” The makeup assistant repeated. Hyunjin straightened up, speaking through his teeth, “…or ramyeon?”
Rowoon looked at him through the mirror, eyebrows shooting up, “Um. Are you sure? You have a pre-recording tomorrow”
“I…haven’t eaten since last night” Hyunjin replied.
“Last time you ate it…your face got pretty swollen, and you were pretty beat up about not looking great in the music show” Rowoon said, grimly smiling.
Hyunjin nodded, gut hurting at that memory of his swollen face, “Right. Never mind. Forget it. Thank you”
“How long are we filming for today?” Jisung asked, adjusting his headset in the back. Rowoon looked between them, “Well, you guys are booked until 4 PM”
Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at his phone. 6:43 am. Fuck.
Changbin walked by, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder, slipping toffees into his palm, “That’ll fill you up before the interviews”. The candy looked less than appetising, but it was his only option, and he reached to eat some, just as the lady stopped him to apply lip tint to his mouth. Today was going to be a long fucking day.
They were almost done with his hair, braiding it at the top of his head, secured with glitter barrettes. It was an elaborate hairstyle, and he feared he’d ruin it if he moved. It was like walking on eggshells, like his slightest touch would crumble things. Well, everything already seemed to be crumbling. Hyunjin hadn’t been in the best of moods since his talk with Eunwoo, and the possibilities of how everything could go wrong loomed over him. The worst he’d feared for was already happening, things set in motion and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it from worsening. The company knew your name. They knew of your existence. They’d already restricted him. There’s no way in hell Hyunjin would be able to bring you to Seoul, much less meet you in this city without a hundred documents or cameras being thrown at you. Slowly, all his happiness that had been built up carefully and precisely, was turning into bitterness.
“Have you seen Chan?” Rowoon asked, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Hyunjin shook his head. He’d been sitting on this chair for forty five minutes straight. How the hell would he know where Chan was? The hunger and frustration was getting to him, and he shook his head, calming himself down.
“May I go now?” He looked up at the hair assistant.
She nodded, “Just no quick movements. The hairspray is still settling in”
Now that he could properly look at himself, it looked good. Having longer hair always set him at the mercy of experimentation for new styles, and often crazy accessories. He smiled at them, pushing the chair back to stand, “Of course. Thank you so much for your hard work. It’s beautiful”
In other circumstances, he’d snap a picture and send you, but…he’d been on eggshells with you too. Inadvertently, the conversation with Eunwoo had created distance. Hyunjin hated that because none of this was your fault. You shouldn’t be subject to this silence from him, but he was constantly looking over his shoulder, paranoid that he’d be caught and it was getting tiring. His carelessness at the party had led to this. He wanted to fully blame himself for not having any self-control when he drunk called you. Yet, a part of him knew that even without the doomed phone call, somehow everybody would have found out anyway. It was only a matter of time. Things never stayed stable for too long in his life.
He walked into the hallway, hoping to find an empty room. There were usually a few reserved for stage props. He could have a few moments to himself, just to talk to you. That could calm him down, and he could apologise for his distance. He didn’t know how he’d begin to explain what was happening to you. To anybody else, it’d seem like he was pushing you away and he hoped you understood that it was never his intention.
A door was ajar, sliver of light leaking out into the hallway. He stopped in his tracks, familiar voices inside. He didn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they were so loud, “What do you want me to say? I’m doing absolutely everything I can! Jisung’s trial is already—”
“Don’t bring Jisung into this…” Kairi’s exasperated voice interrupted, “What’s going on with him is different. You always do this, Chris! Why are you making this your problem?”
“I’m sorry? They’re my bandmates. They’re my friends. Of course I’m going to take their burden!”
“Jisung is an adult, he’s perfectly capable of—“
“I made a promise to all of them, Kairi. I’m not jumping ship when they need me the most” Chan sounded so frustrated.
She groaned, “I’m not asking you to jump ship. But Chris you haven’t slept in three fucking days! You’re…barely eating. This is not living”
Hyunjin didn’t know that, and his blood ran cold at the information as Chan replied, “This isn’t your problem Kairi. It’s…my problem to deal with. I have to make sacrifices—”
“I had to quit my job because of you, Chris!” She trailed off, Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and he flinched at the aggressive tone. He wasn’t new to their arguments, especially over the last month, but none were like this. This felt like the culmination of something that had been building for months, even years. Kairi was always so sweet, and her volume returned to normal, “I mean…I had to quit because of us. I made sacrifices too. So yes, it is my problem”
Chan’s voice dropped, “Well, I don’t want you to make sacrifices for me”
“That’s what people do when they love each other. I’m sorry but that’s just a reality you’re going to have to accept Chris”
“Do we…have to talk about this now? The interviews start soon, and I can’t focus on them—” 
“I’m so worried about you, Channie. I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the morning”
Chan groaned, “I don’t know either, but I have to do it for the boys. I can’t…let them down”
Hyunjin’s chest ached now, a different kind of pain settling in. Why were they all making sacrifices for each other? They were only in their twenties, pushing for their dreams; this instability shouldn’t be normal.
Kairi sighed, “See, that’s exactly the problem. Why do you always take the blame for everything? Even when Hyunjin was gone, you made it your mission to do damage control for him. Not everything has to be your burden”
At the mention of his name, he really should walk away and learn to mind his own business, but he couldn’t help but overhear, feet rooted to the floor as Chan’s voice softened with a new desperation and frustration, “They mean everything to me. You know that”
“They do to me too, Chris. I know this is a horrible time”
“Hyunjin?” He heard Jisung’s voice call for him in the hallway. He needed to head back. An entire press and interview team was waiting for them, only a few rooms over and if he listened any further, he’d be in no state of mind to answer questions. But of course as he stepped away, he picked up on the last bit of conversation, “Did you know HR gave Hyunjin the papers?” Chan laughed bitterly, “They’re already prepared for the worst”
Kairi sighed, and he could hear her footsteps as she moved closer to Chan. Only dread filled his stomach as he heard the next sentence out of her mouth, “That’s their job. You have to not make it your problem this time, Chan, I’m…so worried about your health. And that’s Hyunjin’s responsibility. He knew what he was getting into when he started seeing her. It was bound to happen. It always does.”
Hyunjin didn’t stick around to hear Chan’s response.
He had heard enough.
»»————-
“Hyun, can I come see you?”
The question was expected, but Hyunjin was shocked when you said it anyway. He froze, choking at his words. A few days ago, he would have been overjoyed at this. After all, he’d already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements for you to come see him, but…things had changed. It was too risky. He didn’t have the heart to tell you about his conversation with Eunwoo. What was the point after all? Hyunjin let out an awkward fucking chuckle, “W-what?”
“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help.” Your voice was far away, drenched in longing.
It wasn’t out of nowhere, it was only what Hyunjin had been planning since forever. But nothing went to his fucking plans, “I…I’m not sure, Y/N”
Your voice deflated, disappointed, “Yeah?”
His heart broke, but it had become increasingly clear that it would be the dumbest idea ever to have you come visit. If anybody saw them…if anything got out…he wasn’t prepared to deal with that, “Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…”
“Yeah. I understand” Of course you understood, no matter how shitty Hyunjin kept behaving. For once, he wished you’d actually yell at him.
“I’m sorry” He swallowed, and he could feel the life being sucked out of him.
Your response was sweet as usual, “It’s okay. It’s bad timing”
“It’s bad timing” He repeated, and Hyunjin suddenly had a horrible feeling that maybe this was the last straw. Things had slipped out of his control. Soon, eventually, you would too.
»»————-
The seasons were changing, but flowers bloomed all year long in Seoul, and so Hyunjin had prepared early. He’d bought the Camellia seeds so he could grow winter flowers on his own, and see their life unfold before his eyes. Even if everything else seemed to be falling apart, at least he could try to be consistent and paint his feelings away. The yellow falling leaves and orange tree cover taken over the city inspired his many paintings. Usually, you’d send him pictures of every little detail from back home, especially of changing landscapes and beautiful natural sights of town, but you hadn't shared anything the past week. He wondered what autumn would look like in Daejon. Now that his conversations with you were thinning out, he had an irrational fear that he’d never find out. 
“Everything okay?”
“Sorry?” Hyunjin snapped out of it, and Changbin looked at him, concerned. “You’re in your head again. Is something bothering you?”
Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “No, I’m good”
Changbin clearly wasn’t convinced, because his expression softened, and he reached a hand out, “Hey, why don’t you go wait in the car? I’ll bring the Americano out to you”
But he was so past being taken care of or worried about. So Hyunjin shook his head. The idea of waiting in the car sounded absolutely horrible right now. He needed fresh air, and he was perfectly capable of getting his own cup of coffee.
“No, I got this. Why don’t you let me get this for us?” Hyunjin asked, pushing his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. It was getting colder by the day, and even in this temperature-controlled cafe, he was cold to the bone. Changbin grinned, shooting him a cheesy wink, “Well, I’ll never say no to being treated by you”
A smile tugged at Hyunjin’s lips. Changbin could find the brevity in each situation. Hyunjin walked up to the cashier, placing an order for their usual. “Could I have two coffees, black, please?” He asked. The cashier, a girl probably in her 20s, smiled wide at Hyunjin, “Is that all?”
He glanced at the pastry counter, and everything looked so appetising. Yet he was on a diet and couldn’t afford to do this. Everybody would be so disappointed in him, “No, that’s all”
“Sorry, but do…I know you?” She asked, punching in his order. Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he thought he’d concealed his identity enough with the hat, but clearly the rest of his expensive outfit was a dead give-away that was he was some big shot. They had another schedule after this, so they were dressed up and he was draped head-to-toe in luxury items, “Um. I just have one of those faces, I guess”
The girl didn’t look convinced, “Right…I’ll have your coffee out in a few minutes”
He stepped aside, joining his friend to the side. Changbin had a huge grin on his face still and Hyunjin was thankful to have his positivity surround him, “That chick was totally flirting with you”
“What?” Hyunjin shook his head, pushing the receipt in his coat pocket, “She barely said two words. You think everyone’s flirting with me”
“Well, why are her and all her friends giggling and looking at you?” Changbin rolled his eyes. Hyunijn looked back, and sure enough, the cashier and her coworkers were looking at him. Maybe they shouldn’t have come in here today. It was too close to the comeback. He shook that thought from his head. He was desperate for coffee.
“Excuse me, sir? Your coffee is ready” The girl said, and Hyunjin stepped back up. She was smiling, flushing red under her uniform cap, and as she handed them the cups he noticed a piece of paper stuck to it. Changbin glanced at it, eyes widening as they stepped away, “Is that her number?”
“I don’t know” Hyunjin mumbled, unfurling the paper. This definitely was the most romantic way he’d been asked out. It was her Instagram handle, and a note was stuck to it, Hope you liked the coffee, handsome. Maybe we could get a stronger drink later tonight? 
“Wow” Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he pushed the note into his pocket too. It’d be thrown away later, “That’s…certainly a bold move”
“Please tell me you’re going on that date”
Hyunjin shook his head, amused at how light-hearted dates and budding love could be for Changbin, “I…have plans”
“What plans? You’re a recluse”
“I was going to talk to Y/N tonight—” He trailed off, eyes landing on someone familiar in the crowd. Hyunjin’s breath hitched.
It was a while since he’d seen her. Years, at this point.
She was sat at a far table, laughing over a cup of coffee and croissants. She seemed better than she had in years. Happier than she’d ever been around Hyunjin. Right now, she was glowing. The cause of her happiness seemed to be a boy sitting across her. A guy dressed in flannel and suit pants, chunky glasses on his face. Hyunjin couldn’t look away as the boy leaned forward, kissing her cheek quickly. She smiled, and then the cashier called out, “Coffee for Yujin”
She kissed the boy before standing up. She walked towards them, and Hyunjin was still standing stupidly at the counter. She noticed him, eyes widening, coming to a stop. Almost instantly, the life drained from her face. 
A stark difference from a moment ago, when she was so happy. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do; he raised a hand; a small, non-threatening wave. Things between them had ended in peace, after all. Yujin’s face traversed many expressions before she settled on a calm look, “Hyunjin. Wow…hi. This…is such a surprise. Hello…Changbin”
Hyunjin nodded, hoping this interaction wasn’t being watched, “It’s…been a while, Yujin”
She was still beautiful, smiling to diffuse the tension, “I didn’t expect to see you around here”
Hyunjin nodded, hands squeezing his coffee cup, “Yeah. I…don’t come here too often”
She nodded, familiarity returning to her gaze, “Ah. Too easy to get recognised?”
Hyunjin nodded along, even though that wasn’t the reason. He hated how his life seemed to revolve around his fame, and not his choices, like maybe he didn’t come here because he just liked another coffee shop more. Changbin took over, noticing the awkward shift in Hyunjin, “Um, so how have you been, Yujin? You look good!”
She smiled at him, “I’m great. I’m actually doing really well… I, uh, moved out of the city, closer to the outskirts”
“Really?” Hyunjin asked. He wondered why she would make such a decision. She’d trained with him for years, until she’d suddenly dropped out of the idol industry, but back when Hyunjin knew her and dated her, they had the same ambitions. The same thirst to be recognized, to be respected, and known for their talent. That’s why they had got along so well.
“Hmm, the city got too much for me sometimes. Anyway after I met Haru, it just seemed like the right choice to make”
“Haru. Is that…your boyfriend?” Hyunjin asked, noticing the boy back at the table. 
“Well…” She giggled, lifting her hand up to show them the glittering, gorgeous ring, “Fiancé, actually”
Changbin’s eyes widened, “You’re engaged?”
She nodded, a dimple in her cheek, “Haru asked me a few months ago”
Hyunjin forced himself to smile, but there was a deep pit in his stomach, recalling the conversations they used to have back in their days as trainees. They were never that serious to talk about weddings, or marriage. They both knew it was only an attraction between them and would stay that way, but he remembered a specific conversation where Yujin had said that the only disadvantage of becoming famous was the love life they’d be giving up. He was happy for her now. She hadn’t had to give it up after all, “Congratulations, Yujin. That’s…really good”
“Never too early to settle down, am I right?” She laughed, “What about you, Jinnie? How have you been?”
“I’m…good too. So…what are you doing these days?” He redirected the conversation back, curiosity brimming at him. What did someone do once they’d left the idol life? They were free to do absolutely anything, the choices were limitless. He’d never known a life without rules. He’d been training since he was fourteen, after all. She shrugged, “I’m doing a bit of everything. I volunteered at an organisation for a while, I tested my hand at photography, modelling even, but then I realised I really don’t want to be around cameras of any kind” She laughed, “I teach now, though”
“That sounds really nice, Yujin. I’m glad you get to do something you love”
“Well, you too! You’re absolutely thriving, Hyunjin. I see you every day with all your brand deals and advertisements. Does it ever get tiring being pretty all the time?”
Hyunjin smiled, “It’s…part of my job”
“Well, you deserve it. I remember how focused you used to be. You were my motivation, you know? It should have been obvious that life wasn’t for me. I hated everything. My favourite part of the academy used to be seeing you” At those words, the boy, Haru joined her, slipping an arm around her waist, “Everything all right, baby?”
She glanced at him, “Shit, I totally forgot to get the coffee. Just ran into some old friends”
Haru laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it for us, babe.” He kissed her again, with no hesitance of being seen by so many people, and went to pick up the drinks. Changbin conversed with Haru, as Yujin asked Hyunjin, “I read that you went on a break for a couple of months. That must have been…wow, relieving?”
He swallowed, “Yeah, it was really good, but…I’m back to work now”
“That must’ve been nice. I don’t know how you do it, Hyunnie. I remember when we training together, you wouldn’t leave the practice room for days. Still the same?”
Hyunjin nodded. Yujin had changed so much from when he’d last met her. Had he changed at all?
Haru smiled at him, “Thank you for taking good care of her then. She tells me about those days a lot. It must have been thrilling to keep it a secret from everyone”
Hyunjin shook his head, smiling politely at him, “It was terrifying actually” 
They laughed. Haru pulled Yujin into his side again as she said, “Well…this was unexpected, but if your schedule permits, you and the boys are always welcome to the engagement party. It’s the end of December”
Changbin sighed dramatically, “Unfortunately, we’re working the whole month”. Yujin frowned, “That’s terrible….I would suggest catching up after that but…me and Haru are going to be gone for three months”
“Oh, where are you going?” Changbin asked.
“Backpacking through Europe” She responded chirpily, “Haru’s really into art and sculptures, so we have this silly idea to visit every museum in Paris”
“That sounds really good” Hyunjin smiled, but he was drowning so deep in his thoughts he could barely focus. What a nice life. It was strange, the last time he saw her, she was in the same boat as him. Training to be an idol, like him. But their paths had diverged, and envy settled in him. He was so lucky to have his life, but he wished he could just take off like that too on vacation, no questions asked. Changbin’s phone buzzed and he apologised, ”Um sorry to stop this, but we gotta go. Eunwoo’s calling us back in to work”
Hyunjin nodded, “Oh, of course. It was great to meet you Yujin, and you too, Haru. Congratulations again, on the engagement. I hope you have a good time in Europe. I’m really happy for you”
Suddenly the expensive bracelets he was wearing felt like shackles around Hyunjin’s wrists. 
»»————-
A fire burned within him, a quiet inferno consuming his peace. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yujin and what her life was like now. She’d rebuilt it to something so special. She would never have that peace of life if she’d stayed in her company or with Hyunjin. He sat at the company table, signing albums, and it was a monotonous task so his thoughts kept drifting. 
“Jinnie. Your phone” Jisung mumbled, poking him with a pen. Hyunjin lift his head to see it buzzing across the table. You were calling. He took a breath, walking out to talk to you. You were the only thing that could make this horrible fucking day better. He hoped you weren’t still upset at him rejecting your offer to come to the city. Hopefully, you’d understand. Everything was too treacherous. Hyunjin…was too treacherous for you right now. Still, he listened to you about your day, and how you’d apparently made up with Yongbok. He smiled, lowering his voice as employees passed him in the corridor, “What did you guys do?”
As you told him everything he wished he was doing with you instead, Hyunjin faded into thought again until you said, “Um…and something else happened. When we were talking, Yongbok said something…He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”
He wished he was more surprised.
A cynical stupid part of him was happy at this. So Yongbok finally told you. Bitterness settled into his veins, scorching him from the inside out, and Hyunjin found himself thinking that maybe with Yongbok, you could finally have the life he couldn’t give you.
When he got home that night, he realised the hydrangeas in his room had withered away completely.
»»————-
He woke to fresh flowers on his desk. Baby blue, lilac, pink and white. All shapes and colors. The scent is what woke him up. It starkly contrasted to the dying hydrangeas that he still hadn’t thrown away. He’d been meaning to draw them in that state. A cruel render of their destruction. 
The comeback was in a few days. Their album would finally be out to the public. There was so much to do today, and he lay in bed just a little longer to enjoy the temporary peace. A press conference was underway soon, and he would have to put on his best self. It was going to be live-streamed and there were no doubts that he’d be asked about the hiatus. He worried if the music would be well received, if it would surpass everyone’s expectations. Hyunjin finally crawled out of bed and read the little notes attached to the bouquets. Congratulations on your 4th successful studio album. Never forget how lucky and blessed you are~!
He walked into his kitchen, sweatpants hanging low, sleep clouding him, to see even more flowers on the island. “Who sent these?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.
Jisung looked sorrowful though, ignoring the bouquets entirely.
“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, the worst scenarios playing in his head.
He swallowed, “They broke up”
His stomach was a pit at the news, “When?”
“Late last night. Chan…still hasn’t come home yet. We have no idea where he is”
“What? How do you know they broke up?”
“Kairi texted Binnie. She was worried. We can’t find him anywhere…”
“I’m going to call him" Hyunjin said, rushing to his room.
“We already tried that, Jinnie” Changbin spoke, “We’ve been trying since an hour”
“Maybe he’ll pick up my call” Hyunjin hoped, as the ringer rang in his ear. After eight rings, Chan did pick up. “Hello, Chan?” Hyunjin asked, voice soft. Jisung and Changbin moved closer, eyes wide as they observed him. Chan sounded low on the other end, “Jinnie…? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay. Where are you, Channie? Are you all right?”
“I’m…fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for the conference”
“No, can I please come get you? Let me” Hyunjin pleaded. There was a pause, and a sigh and then Chan said, “I’m at the old dorm”
“I’ll be right there” Hyunjin hung up.
“No, we’re coming with” Jisung said, stepping ahead.
“Guys. Let me…just do this on my own. Eunwoo would kill us if none of us are here. Me and Chan will make it to the press conference, I promise”
Hyunjin couldn’t drive fast enough. For a second, he worried he would forget the way to their old house but it was embedded into him. It’s where they’d had their whole beginning, and Hyunjin got there in record time. Kairi meant everything to Chan, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling right now. Chan was always there for him, and he felt personally responsible to make sure he was all right. The old dorm building looked run-down; it had been falling apart for years, even when the boys lived there, and he chose the stairs over the rusty old elevator. On the fourth floor, there was an alcove. It was hidden behind a door that was sometimes locked, but he pushed it open. Chan was sitting inside, on the window seat, a soft smile on his face when he saw Hyunjin approach.
“Just you?” He tilt his head, seeing nobody else follow, “I thought the cavalry would show up”
Hyunjin shot him a soft smile, leaning against the door, “Just me….can I join you?”
Chan pat the empty seat next to him, and Hyunjin sat down. This is where Chan was always found, back when they still lived here. It’s where he came to think. To write their greatest hits. To ponder about life’s biggest mysteries. It was always his place, and Hyunjin could see why he loved it so much. It was hidden, like a secret room. Ignoring the cobweb in the corner, it was cosy. A faded old painting hung on the wall, rickety floorboards that probably hid treasures inside, a window that looked out onto an alley. The alley was something special in itself. It was between two apartment buildings, and a little bakery was carved into the side of the building. The few times Hyunjin sat here with Chan, he’d seen bakers arrive at three in the morning, loading powdered sugar and other ingredients in, creating storms and clouds of sugar. It was always a beautiful sight.
“What happened, Chan?” Hyunjin ended up asking, cutting to the chase. They both knew why he was here. Chan swallowed, looking wistful, “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m going to be okay. I just needed…a day to let the sadness out”
“You can take more than that” 
“Not really. I can’t afford to, not this week. I gotta put on my best self”
“We’ll understand if you don’t.” Hyunjin frowned, admirable of Chan’s resolve, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here” Chan glanced at him, a smile on his face, “I know you are, Jinnie. You’re actually the best, and the worst person to talk to this about”
“Why the worst?” Hyunjin frowned.
Chan laughed, “You don’t want to hear the good part first?”
“No…”
“The worst because…I know what you felt about me and Kairi… I feel responsible for how you see the world, crazy as that sounds. I know you had to hear our arguments the past few weeks, I’m sorry about that. I feel like I took away all your hope.”
Hyunjin swallowed, “It’s not your fault. I’ve had minimal hope to begin with”
Chan laughed, loudly, “God, Jinnie, that’s really fucked up, you know? It shouldn’t be this way. We should be out there, showing our girls the best time”
“You shouldn’t apologize to me for your break up, Chan,” Hyunjin emphasized.
“Wow. Breakup. That sounds insane to say” He breathed in a sigh, as it was finally settling in, “To think I was going to ask her to marry me in a few months”
Hyunjin felt emotional. He’d known and adored their relationship for the longest time, “I’m so sorry, Chan. I don’t know what to say, I wish I could…make this better”
“You don’t have to. I’m…happy you’re here. Kim Soohyun asked to see my phone last night. I don’t know why, but I deleted every conversation with Kairi. I suppose I panicked. I shouldn’t have done that, because now all my best memories with her are just that…memories”
Hyunjin swallowed, and maybe all the reading poetry had rotted his brain. His heart was starting to shrivel, just like the Hydrangeas that were out of bloom. Once he got home, maybe it was the right move to erase his chat history with you too. A small way of shielding himself from the damage that could follow. His memories with you would be lost, but his carelessness would only hurt the boys more.
Chan reminded him far too much of you, the way he held onto memories, objects, and tangible things with an iron grip. He recalled how sad you’d felt erasing the little star you’d drawn from Hyunjin’s face. It had meant so much to you. Maybe he was becoming more like you every day too, which is why the dying flowers still rested on Hyunjin’s desk when he should have thrown them out weeks ago. He ended up saying something that only halfway made sense, “I want to say that…the things we’re meant for will always come back to us, but… I stray further from that thought every day, so I would be lying if I tried to convince you of that” 
Chan smiled sadly, and he held something within his hands, “You’re the most romantic person I know, even without trying to be”
Hyunjin laughed, bitterly, “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed”
Chan turned to him, “Don’t say that, Jinnie”
Hyunjin shook his head, facing him, “I came here for you, not to talk about me…you know you have me, always, right?”
“I know” Chan leaned in, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin. It was an awkward half-hug but Hyunjin relaxed into the embrace, whispering, “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with Kairi”
Chan pulled away, a sincere smile on his face, “Thank you. We should probably get going if we want to make it in time for the conference”
“You’re right” Hyunjin nodded, but they made no attempt to move, trying to lengthen this short-lived peace.
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” Chan muttered, and it’s only then that Hyunjin realised what he held in his palm. A diamond ring. The one he was going to propose to Kairi with.
“What?” 
“What our lives are like. Do you never question that?” Chan asked. Hyunjin had never heard him talk like this, and he couldn’t comprehend this. Chan had built them up from the ground up, worked his ass off to get them to where they are. In fact, he couldn’t bear to see this side of him. He shouldn’t be questioning all his hard work, or that all would have been for nothing. Out of all people in the world, Chan couldn't be the one to lose hope. He was their rock.
He felt for Chan. So much. Yet, this train of thought was so dangerous. What would happen to them if they all started hating their job? They had never been forced into this career, they’d made their choices of their own volition, even if it was done as a teenager who didn’t know what he’d be giving up, but they’d gained so much too. The lifestyle Hyunjin led…people would kill for. 14-year-old him would kill for this. And he’d be so proud of him for it too. So, why was he questioning everything now? 
“No, I don’t” Hyunjin said. It was a lie, but he would sell it to Chan, for his sake, “We’re doing something impossible for most people to even imagine in the world. The impact that you have on people is…unreal. Millions of people love you, and you inspire them. You inspire me to work harder everyday. So, I don’t question if it’s worth it, and you shouldn’t either, Chan”
Something in Chan’s eyes changed, as if he had never expected him to say this. Hyunjin, the romantic, would never have said that. Love felt like the core of his life. He was hungry for it, but there was more than one kind of love.
So later that week, when Hyunjin stared at his phone in his hands, it was filled up with memories of you. Every phone call, each picture you’d sent him, each sweet thought he’d scribbled in his notes but never had the chance to send you. The press tour had already begun, and the boys were knee-depth in stress, and Hyunjin could never let himself add to that. Kairi had talked about sacrifices, and he finally understood it. Maybe it was cowardly to never explain to you what was happening, but it was easier. He didn’t have the heart to delete the past few months, so he took Eunwoo’s advice and changed his number instead.
Sorrow settled in his chest as Hyunjin realised that he would go to the ends of the earth for you, but perhaps that wasn’t still enough. He wasn’t willing to give this life up, and this was a sacrifice he was going to have to make.
»»————- Present Day. 
You only had the moonlight to guide you tonight.
There were hardly any streetlights this far out. It was pitch black, and the glow of the moon fell upon Hyunjin’s face, tracing each contour perfectly. You were trying real hard to not look at him. He was drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel and it was annoying. It kept grabbing your attention, and you’d glance at him only to remember you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t spend time marveling at his little mannerisms because…things had changed. 
All you could do was listen to the conversations of the backseat. Chan was mumbling something to Kairi, and their voices had dropped in volume since you’d pulled out of the parking lot. Each syllable was spoken in a whisper, like it was a secret between them, and you felt like you were eavesdropping. Still, there was not much else to focus to. You definitely were not going to focus on the boy sitting next to you.
“I know that it could’ve been better…but I hope that you still had a good time today” Chan said softly, and through the rearview mirror, you saw that they’d laced their hands together. Kairi was leaning into him, fingers interlocked, and you looked down at your hands. The empty spaces between your fingers bothered you. 
“I did, Chris” Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, “Honestly, it was a pretty special birthday”
You averted your gaze, giving them privacy. Hyunjin kept glancing in the mirror briefly before looking back to the road. There was a small smile on his lips. He used to talk about them so much. He must be happy with this outcome. You didn’t know the details of what had gone wrong with their relationship, you’d never pried, but it must have been hard getting back together after all that heartbreak and pain.
“I’m…really fucking tired. I might pass out any second” Kairi announced, followed by a yawn.
“Don’t worry. Hyunjin is a smooth driver” Chan reassured, “Isn’t he?”
Hyunjin nodded, eyes flickering to Chan’s, “Of course. And um, Kairi, if you’re cold, I have an extra jacket in the backseat”
There was rummaging and then Kairi gasped, having found the jacket, “This is so stylish. I missed your clothes, Jinnie”
“Hey, hey. What are you trying to imply?” Chan complained. Kairi giggled, and Hyunjin laughed, “Your girlfriend is a fan of color, Chan. That’s not my fault”
“How predictable of you” Chan mumbled, and you could see him rolling his eyes. You drifted out of their conversation, looking out the window at the passing landscape. Trees drifted by in a blur and there was hardly any civilisation out here. Miles and miles of nothing. 
“Don’t you agree?” Kairi laughed, hand landing on your shoulder, and she was talking to you.
“Sorry?” You asked, “Agree with what?”
“Fuck. Did I wake you?” She apologised, “I didn’t realise you fell asleep”
“No, no, I’m up. I was just distracted….” You replied, clearing your throat. This conversation warranted another glance from Hyunjin, as if he was checking to see what you were distracted by. You returned his gaze with indifference, raising your eyebrows. He immediately looked away, back to the road.
“Well, I was telling Chris that your friends, Minnie and Jamie are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever met. I mean, I hardly see relationships that strong here; people are usually just serial daters” Kairi explained.
“Oh. Right” You nodded, thankful to have the context, “They’re…really cute, yeah”
“A serial dater?” Chan asked.
“Yeah. Dating apps will do that to you, especially in midtown. Take my advice now, never get on one, you’ll be fighting in the trenches” Kairi laughed. The trees were whizzing past so fast it made you dizzy, you mumbled, “It’s funny. Dating apps could never work back home”
“Cause you know everyone? Is that really true?” She asked. You nodded, “I mean, yeah. You go to school with the people technically in your dating age range, and there are only five restaurants and hang-out spots, so you’re always bumping into each other. It’s impossible to not know everyone”
“Was that ever weird?” Kairi asked, “Like seeing your ex at dinner or something?”
A small laugh escaped you, “It actually sucked. You couldn’t escape them”
“Did you ever run into her exes?” Chan asked, and it took you a second to realise the question was directed at Hyunjin. It took him a few seconds and he sat up straighter, mumbling quietly, “No.”
You blinked at his nonchalance, trying not to let this phase you. This could be a normal car ride if you just let it. Suddenly your gut was hurting with anxiety and you looked out the window again, away from him.
“Well, thankfully, I’ve never had to deal with that,” Chan spoke, “Eunwoo would have a heart attack if one of us was found on those apps. Although there’s quite a few fake profiles out there with Hyunjin’s face on them”
“Eunwoo?” You asked, ignoring the second part of his statement. It sent jealousy surging through you. Why did you feel jealous by even the thought of Hyunjin being on a dating app? You needed to get a grip on your emotions. 
“Ah. Hyunjin didn’t tell you?” Chan asked, so casually, “Eunwoo’s…our manager, of sorts”
Without thinking, you spoke, “I thought your manager was the lady in the shop”
“What shop?” Chan frowned, confused, “Wait, hold up. You’ve met one of our managers, Y/N? Where was that?” You stayed silent, for only a second, wondering if Hyunjin would answer this question. After all, he knew the manager and they were in the shop for a reason. The one where he had ignored you completely, as if you didn’t exist. You were only there by accident, after losing your way trying to find the Atelier. To your relief, Hyunjin did speak, “Yeah. That was Mrs. Giwon…she was accompanying me on one of the snack runs”
“Ah” Kairi exclaimed, “She’s…the worst one”
“Hey” Chan spoke, “She’s really helpful sometimes”
“Anyway…moving on” Kairi rolled her eyes, “She kind of traumatised me after she busted us”
“Busted you?” You turned, intrigued. Kairi laughed, “She walked in on me and Chan making out in the studio! God, that day was hell. She like…actually yelled at me for not maintaining a professional attitude in their building”
“And that, of course…led to the no-girlfriend in the studio rule,” Chan mumbled, and through the rearview, you saw him roll his eyes. That seemed like an insane rule to have, especially for adults. You stole a glance at Hyunjin to catch his reaction. He looked straight ahead, as if he couldn’t even hear this conversation, laser-focused on driving the empty streets. Kairi laughed loudly, “Changbin was the most pissed about that!”
“He has a girlfriend?” 
“No. That man’s a serial dater, through and through. He’s too busy producing insane music to have a full relationship anyway. He goes through NDA’s faster than you can say hookup, but honestly…he enjoys himself so much. He’s…very popular with all the girls”
You wanted to ask so much more about that. NDAs…? So that was a truth and not a rumor. Hyunjin had never mentioned those to you. At the paint and wine event, Sakura and Yeosang had asked him about it, and he’d been cautious about answering. But it was true. All of it felt so silly. Their words came back to you. Imagine sleeping with someone and then signing a contract instead of some aftercare.
If you and Hyunjin had hooked up back in Daejon, would he have also made you sign an NDA? But he fingered you. He let you touch him. He let you cut his hair and give him a handjob in his little bathroom. Did that not ask for an NDA? Or did he just trust you enough? All the possibilities floated through your head, and stupidly, like a stupid girl, you blurted, “So what all does that NDA cover? Is it just sex or…is it like, making out and other things too? And it's legally required?”
At your question, Hyunjin’s grip on the wheel tightened. His shoulders tensed up. 
You’d struck a nerve. 
Good. 
It was satisfying to know you had some sort of impact on him. Till now, he was just pretending you didn’t exist. 
Kairi paused, pondering over it, “Um…pretty much just sex, but like…I didn’t have to sign an NDA every single time. It’s only if it’s with a new person"
“Right”
Chan laughed, “I know. It sounds crazy. Especially in the 21st century, but with the internet and everything, you can never be too careful what people will say in a public forum. Hyunjin, didn’t you hate them too when we started out?”
Hyunjin cleared his throat, “Yeah. It’s stupid”
So he would sign them too? How often did he sleep with a new girl? You didn’t want to think about this any longer. There was no point wondering about his past when you wouldn’t be in his future. Your phone buzzed against the console and you grabbed it, positioning it on the seat between your legs so you could read it. It was a text from Felix.
hey. i was just talking with minho and man, i miss you I know you’ve likely forgotten all about me but call me later please…I think ill die here without you
A smile pulled at your cheeks, and you typed in a quick reply.
im getting back from a party lixie. It was kairi’s birthday. i miss you guys too :(
“Who are you texting at this hour?” Kairi piped up, leaning ahead, “Nate?”. You immediately clicked your phone screen black, even though you had nothing to hide. You just shot her a smile, “Just… a friend from back home”
Hyunjin probably knew exactly who you were talking about, yet he didn’t react. His stone-cold demeanour was really beginning to bother you.
“So where were you guys, at the party? When we found you, you two were at the cabins” Kairi spoke, breaking the tension. You swallowed, wondering if he would answer but he obviously wasn’t interested in speaking so you said, “I was dancing. And then…I hurt myself. So Hyunjin took me to the cabin to find a bandaid”
That wasn’t exactly what had happened. You had conveniently skipped over your argument, and the two of you spying on them, but Hyunjin nodded along, following your lie, “Yeah. There were no first aid kits there though”
Kairi nodded, “Shit, yeah. We didn’t think anybody would use the cabins for anything other than sex…anyway, I was thinkingggg we should play some game. It’d be nice to kill the time.”
Chan reminded her, “I thought you were about to pass out, baby”
Kairi was full of energy now as she suggested, “Well, I’m wide awake now! I kind of want the celebration to last a little while longer. Y/N, you can pick a game, since you're my guest of honour! Do you know any good ones?”
It seemed like Kairi and Chan had absolutely no fucking idea what happened between you and Hyunjin. They knew you weren’t together, but it seemed like they knew nothing more than that. Hyunjin hadn’t told them any of the details. They only knew you’d ended things, but not why. By their ease, and comfort…it seemed like they didn’t even know Hyunjin had been the one to end things with you. The memory of that made your chest clench, with hurt.
The heartbreak felt so one-sided. Everything seemed so easy for him. Had you got everything wrong this summer? Had you read too much into his actions? You felt embarrassed, thinking back to the kind of things you’d said to him. You didn’t tell him you loved him, but you pretty much said everything else. He knew more about you than anybody else in your life, and now he wouldn't even talk to you. You’d been willing to move to the city for him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Being in Seoul suddenly didn’t feel worth it anymore.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“We still are two hours out of the city. It’d be fun to play something” Kairi said, glancing at the GPS on the console. Play something? Like a road trip game? This hardly felt like a road trip, it was far too depressing to be one. “I’m…good with anything” You spoke, “I’m kind of really tired”
“How about word association?” Chan suggested, “I used to play that with my family as a kid”
You realised he was waiting for your response so you nodded, “Sure. How does it go…? Is there a way to lose?”
“Only if you take longer than three seconds to answer. We go in a circle, Kairi can start with any random word, you have to say a word related to the previous one, and the person who can’t come up with something loses”
You weren’t really in the mood to play, but you would need more energy to protest. Plus, any time interacting with the back-seaters was time removed with the boy in the front seat. Kairi quickly explained the rules, and that it would go clockwise, starting with Hyunjin. He still hadn’t reacted to the idea of the game so you weren’t even sure if he was playing. Kairi hummed loudly, looking around for inspiration. Dark clouds were forming on the horizon so she naturally said, “Thunder!”
“Storm” You immediately said.
“Well, Hyunjin was supposed to go” Kairi laughed, “I’ll go again. Eclipse?”
“Cosmic” Hyunjin replied. A curt, short, emotionless answer. You realised you had to speak now. You mumbled, “Um…the stars”
“Marilyn Monroe” Chan said. Kairi laughed loudly, “Chris. What the hell?”
“What? She’s…a star” Chan defended. You smiled at their bantering. Kairi rolled her eyes, “No. That’s what’s called a Freudian slip”
“Excuse me?” Chan giggled, “Don’t psychobabble me. What even is that?”
Kairi laughed, “It’s this theory that if you accidentally say something wrong, you were thinking about it subconsciously. Most people are thinking about sex, so that’s what a lot of Freudian slips reveal”
“So what… you’re accusing me of wanting to sleep with Marilyn Monroe?” Chan frowned. She giggled, “No, I’m just saying that’s how it works, smartass. It usually reveals your repressed thoughts”
You glanced back at her, “Yeah. I guess that’s what this entire game is about. Although I really don’t think Freud has had the best ideas. Some of them are…really regressive” 
Kairi grinned at you, nodding aggressively and she was still tipsy from before, “You’re so right, honestly. Most of the people I played this game with had no idea what a Freudian slip was. You know, this is why we’re friends. You’re…so fucking cool. You’re just like me”
“Y/N is not just like you” Chan laughed loudly.
“Excuse me?” She gasped, offended, “You just met her. How would you even know what she’s like?”
Chan chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve been hearing about her all summer—” He suddenly stopped, realising what he’d said. An awkward silence enveloped the car and you did everything not to look at Hyunjin. So… Chan had been hearing about you all summer. You knew Hyunjin had told the boys about you. You just wondered what he’d said. What did he know of you? Chan cleared his throat, embarrassed by his slip of the tongue, “I mean….never mind. Should we continue the game? Hyunjin. Why don’t you start?”
Hyunjin swallowed, adjusting his hands on the wheel, “Um. I don’t know. Sin?”
Your eyes widened at his word choice, and it was your turn to go next. Sin? What was he even thinking of? Your mind went through the seven deadly sins that you knew of, and you only had three seconds so you blurted, “Lust”
It was Chan’s turn now, and he blanked, eyes widening, “Uh…passion?”
You didn’t like this tangent of thought… and you waited for Kairi to say something. Chan teased, “Are you serious? You’re gonna lose”. She yelled, “Wait, wait. I know. Yearning!”
It was Hyunjin’s turn to play. His mouth parted, and he was about to say something, but instead he chose not to. He just shook his head, “I don’t know…I can’t really focus on the game when I’m driving”
Kairi sighed, “Can’t believe you lost on yearning, Hyunjin”
“Yeah. My mistake” He mumbled. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. You didn’t really want to play this game anymore. You stared out the window, your reflection flickering in the window. You wanted to be home already, and not in this car where you felt like a stranger.
There was so much brevity and lightheartedness in the conversations between Chan and Kairi, and here you were…struggling to even get a proper hi out. You felt like a stranger, even to Kairi. You’d only known her for a few weeks, compared to them. The three of them felt like a unit, like a family that was finally complete again. Hyunjin had sang praises of their love, and you could see it now. It wasn’t anything grand or impossible, it was so casual and effortless. Kairi and Chan fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly, but even more than that, they enhanced each other so simply. There was no fear of misunderstandings, or betrayal. They were giggling in the back, laughing about some inside joke you’d never be able to understand. Perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted this ride. Kairi was your friend, but you weren’t really welcome here. You were an outsider. Chan must have wanted to keep the conversation going so he said, “So, Y/N, you were about to tell me about yourself when we got in the car” 
You swallowed, “Um, I didn’t know I was going to be doing that”
Kairi teased, “Yeah, Chan. I thought you knew all about her, and how me and her are so similar”
Chan giggled, “It was a figure of speech. No, but seriously, Y/N”
You bit your lip, and a deep sadness was overwhelming you. One you’d been trying to escape for months but it seemed impossible now. You’d genuinely enjoyed the party, until he’d showed up. He’d ruined everything. It had taken so long for you to not think about him. Now you felt like you were sinking again, “Um…what do you want to know? I came here to study art. There’s not really much to tell…You’re the one who has a really interesting life."
Chan frowned, “Come on. That’s not a real answer. I wanna know you, not answers you’d type in on some Facebook page”
You were at a loss for words, and you mostly just felt conscious around Hyunjin. You always hated introductions like this, and icebreakers, especially around someone you wanted to like you. Chan seemed amazing, he was brilliant so how could your little life possibly impress him? You’d done nothing that would have an impact on anyone, unlike them. Anything you say would be so boring. So you settled for a basic fact about yourself, a preface to your personality, “Well…I used to work in an art—”
“She’s a really good artist” Hyunjin suddenly interrupted you.
Your gaze snapped to his.
“Oh yeah?” Chan asked, surprised.
“Yup” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “She’s in the most prestigious program of the country” 
Chan smiled, “Wow. That’s…amazing, Y/N. You should be bragging about that stuff”
“There’s only like…25 people that get in from across the world” Hyunjin continued talking, staring right ahead so casually. There was a knot in your stomach, and he had the faintest of a smile on his face as he talked about you. It was more than he’d given you in the past hours, “She’s one of the few domestic students”
“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Kairi exclaimed, hand reaching out to tap you. But you were speechless, staring at Hyunjin. Why did he just do that?
“Well, now you’ve got to show me your art, Y/N!” Chan grinned, “Hyunjin’s got pretty high standards when it comes to those, so I’m curious”
You nodded, forcing a smile at him, “Yeah…um, maybe later”
“Well, I hope you taught Hyunjin something too” Chan laughed. 
Hyunjin nodded, and there was a hint of emotion as he spoke, “She did”
You chewed on your lower lip, fiddling with your jacket, thinking about his words, even long after he’d said them.
The barren highway enveloped the car in darkness, and the tiny GPS screen was the only light source. You stared ahead, watching the road lit up in the headlights, uncovering more of the unknown every second. There was nobody else out here. It was spooky, and you hated the feeling. You felt trapped in this metal contraption. Hyunjin’s fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, a familiar rhythm, probably calming his nerves down. The backseat noise had died down, and it seemed like the tiredness had finally hit Kairi. The only indication of passing time was the clock on the dashboard. You watched it tick down every second, hoping it would go faster. The city was still so far out. You leaned back onto the seat, watching trees whiz past in silence. Hyunjin was so quiet you’d almost think he fell asleep. The only surmountable sound was the heating, and the tapping of his fingers. You closed your eyes, hoping the time would pass faster.
You couldn’t help but think of what was waiting for you. There was no lingering excitement. This party had been the only thing you’d been looking forward to for a while. There was so much work back in class, starting Monday. Kim Jieong was expecting so much from you. You felt emotionally drained. He was your only motivation, pushing you to get better. After all, there was nothing else waiting for you back there. 
Suddenly Hyunjin cleared his throat, drawing your attention. From your peripheral vision, you saw him reach for the radio, fingers hovering over the console, and then he looked to you, “Um…mind if I put something on?”
You blinked, distracted by how he looked in the glow of the light. His glasses were thin, hanging on his nose bridge, and his lips were pursed. He’d bitten them raw. Maybe you weren’t the only one anxious in this car. You shook your head, “Go ahead”
He pressed a button, and life filled the previously stagnant car. An announcer was talking, probably at an all-night radio station, and you asked softly, “Wouldn’t this wake them up?”
Hyunjin looked at you again, over the rim of his glasses, eyes meeting yours for another torturous split second. In the dark, they looked like pools of black, a darkened gaze as he spoke, “Uh, don’t worry. I turned the speakers in the back off. It’s only the front ones that are working”
Oh. You didn’t even know that was possible. They obviously had access to the best cars with the best technologies. Music began playing, a rock band from the 80s, and you rest your head again, closing your eyes to savour in this newfound peace. It was strange to sit next to the man you desired the most yet have no conversation. For the past few months, it had been impossible to separate you, and the irony of this moment didn’t fail to surprise you. You’d come all the way to Seoul for him. Yet the only sound in the car was Bon Jovi on the radio. 
“Um—”
“So—” You and Hyunjin both spoke at the same time.
“Sorry,” You apologised, “What were you about to say?”
He glanced at you, hand reaching out to the radio again, and you noticed he had new rings on his finger. They looked so expensive, glittering sparkles, and he must have bought them recently. He seemed nervous and he spoke, “I can…uh, change the music if you don’t like it”
Your eyebrows shot up. That clearly wasn’t what he was going to say. “No, it’s nice. I like him”
He nodded, retreating his hand and putting it back on the console. You wondered about the unspoken, but wondering would only kill you. So you shut your eyes again, hands warm in your lap, wishing to be somewhere else. The tune was thrilling. 
“80’s music is actually one of my favourites”
You opened your eyes to look at him, “Really?”
“Yeah. I think….their songs are pretty incomparable. I actually got a lot of inspiration for our album from them. I don’t know if you heard it; it’s very pop-rock heavy, which isn’t what we usually do” He spoke, a nervous wavering in his voice, as if you two were just getting to know each other. 
You observed him, “Is that what you were going to say earlier?”
“Sorry?” He looked right at you, dark eyes flickering over your features. You felt conscious of how you looked. You were still in his sweater, and your hair was still wet from the swim. You said, “Um…you were about to say something but decided not to. Was that it?”
Realisation sank into his face, lips parting, “No, I was…going to ask you how you met Kairi”
“Oh…” Disappointment filled you. What were you expecting to be said? An apology would be nice actually. Something to start with. You were having trouble grasping that things between you and him were truly over. They couldn’t be. Hadn’t he only come into your life yesterday, uprooting everything you thought you knew about yourself? Or maybe you were just desperately clinging on to a summer dream that wasn’t real.
“Sorry. Should I not have asked?” Hyunjin said. 
“No, that’s fine. It was just a crazy coincidence. We were at a bar…me and my friends, and somebody spilled a drink on her, I just happened to be there. I offered to help her. Obviously…I didn’t know who she was. Later, I realised it was Kairi”
“That’s…” Hyunjin’s fingers adjusted on the steering wheel, he spaced them out, glancing at you again, “That’s really nice of you”
“Yeah”
“Are you cold?” He asked.
“What? Um, no.” You shook your head awkwardly. His sweater was keeping you plenty warm.
“Okay”
The silence drowned you again, and you focused on the song playing, replaying the previous conversation in your head, clinging to it for life.
“I…tried Gouache” 
It took you a second to register that Hyunjin was talking to you, again.
Why was he making an effort after what went down earlier? You’d argued and fought, and now he was…trying to be nice? Was he trying to make amends? Did he finally realise what an asshole he’d been? Or were his memories of summer coming back to him too? Because every time you looked at him, all you could remember was the calmness of each moment you’d spent with him, and how his skin had felt to touch, and how his body had felt against yours, warm and comforting. How could he not be thinking of that?
“Sorry?” You glanced at him. 
He straightened up, hands clasped before him, “I…taught myself Gouache. I hadn’t explored it much before, but I had some time between schedules last month and I decided to give it a shot”
You didn’t know what to say. Gouache was such a difficult pigmented paint medium to work with. You stayed quiet, which somehow… he took a sign to continue speaking, “It was hard…but I found the supplies and tried many styles with it. I couldn’t get it right for the longest time but then realised I had the wrong brushes. I…think I prefer it to watercolor”
“Are you serious?”
He glanced at you, almost surprised that you’d replied even though he had been telling you all of this. He nodded, his lips a thin line.
“Gouache can never have the same effect, or…even replace watercolours. It’s…so much more intense. It loses all of its softness” You ended up saying.
“Have you worked with it before?”
“In class. I do all the time” You answered, “I don’t like it. I prefer acrylics or oil”
Hyunjin nodded, eyes zeroed in on you again, “Do you have the freedom to choose?”
“Choose what?”
“The material you want to paint with” He stated, simply. 
“Yeah. It’s up to us” You said.
Hyunjin just nodded, and then silently turned away. As did you. Queen was playing on the radio now, and you liked this song. Somebody to Love. It seemed like Hyunjin enjoyed this song too, because he reached ahead, his bracelets clinking together and he increased the volume just slightly. You glanced in the rearview mirror, and Kairi and Chan were still asleep, cuddled up to each other. Hyunjin was softly singing, under his breath, but he knew all the words. His voice brought a strange calmness to your body, warming it up.
“I can’t believe you tried Gouache” You mumbled, still thinking about it. You didn’t want to initiate conversation with him, not after everything he’d done to your heart. But you were so curious. It was really hard to work with, especially if someone was a beginner.
“Can I show you something?” He asked.
“What?”
He looked at you, a newfound energy in him, “The…paintings I’ve been working on”
“Unless you’re going to pull over—”
“They’re in my phone. You can just…see them there”
You glanced at his phone that lay on the console.
“Um…are you sure?” You reached for his phone, and it was strange that he completely trusted you with it.
“Yeah. I don’t mind. There’s nothing I have to hide from you. The password…I can just type it in” He grabbed it from you, entering random numbers that you couldn’t grasp the significance of, before handing his unlocked phone back to you. The wallpaper was a pretty sunset. You recognised the landscape instantly. It must have been the pictures he took on the Ferris wheel with Seungmin, back at the summer carnival. Memories of that flooded through you. It had been a perfect day. You recalled the photobooth pictures that lay in your sketchbook, Hyunjin had put them there for you to find. You still didn’t understand why, or how he got a hold of them. As far as you knew, he’d deleted them in front of your eyes. You glanced at him; his eyebrows were knitted as he concentrated on driving, still occasionally mouthing the words to the song. You may never get this chance again. “How’d you get those pictures?” You broke the silence.
It took him a second to comprehend your question, and he turned casually, “Hmm?”
In this angle, confusion on his face, nose scrunched up, he looked so tame, so innocent. You already wished to take back what you’d said, in case it ruin this strange peace. It was too late to back up now as he stared at you so you said, “In my sketchbook, I found the photobooth strip. The pictures of us kissing. I…thought you deleted them”
His eyes widened, and he turned back to the road, voice dropping low, “Oh… It doesn’t really matter, Y/N”
His response irked you. It reminded you again that this was futile, whatever you chased for with Hyunjin. “Yeah. It doesn’t” You agreed, looking back at his phone in your hands. You opened up his picture gallery. Everything was divided into little folders, and his entire life was so organised. If you were his girlfriend, would there be a folder for you in it too? You clicked on the one which was so fittingly named ‘Art’. You were annoyed at him but you couldn’t pretend, “Oh. These are…really good, Hyunjin”
He clearly gravitated towards drawing flowers and landscapes. Some of them were familiar, most of them were new. There were so many pictures of flowers, at all stages. He must be drawing from life. It seemed like he’d developed a lot of art ever since he’d come back. They were all so intense and bold, no softness to them that watercolour provided. You’d always thought that Gouache was something in between watercolour and acrylic, a strange midway compromise, yet Hyunjin had made masterpieces out of it, “You did all of these in Gouache?”
He only nodded in response, as you scrolled through the gallery.
“You’re crazy” You said.
Hyunjin let out a laugh, “You really hate it that much?”
“It’s just difficult to work with, but you’re actually really great at these” You stared at the art, and how his technique had improved. All his lines were more confident, pronounced, bolder. He’d gotten so much better in your absence. You’d only gotten worse in his.
“So…how’s the apprenticeship going? Is Kim Jieong as nice as you thought?” He asked. You put his phone back on the console, even though you urged to see everything he’d felt worth storing in his phone. He had asked you a question so you tried to focus on that, “Yeah. He’s really nice. He is so talented. I, um, asked him about the painting, by the way. The one we were talking about”
“The one about the lovers drowning in moonlight?”
You nodded, hands feeling jittery, unable to stomach this casual conversation, “Yup. He was surprised it was my favourite. He thinks I have morbid taste. And… the day he took us to your work building, he wanted us to meet some gallery curator”
“Must have been Karina”
“You know her?” You glanced at him, hoping your face didn’t give anything away. How petty of you to be jealous that he knew another girl. Another artist at that. 
“She’s the prodigy I was telling you about. She wants me to…exhibit some of my work at a gallery next month”
Your eyes widened, and you fiddled with the zipper on the jacket, “Oh. That’s…a big deal. Are you allowed to do that?”
He looked at you, “Yeah, the company and Eunwoo’s really supportive. The fans love it, so he thinks it’s a great stream of revenue and publicity. Any press is good press. He couldn’t care less about the art” 
“Right” You nodded, watching him, “Well, maybe Kim Jieong will make it a field trip for us again. Your exhibition”
Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’d be really embarrassing. I wouldn’t want all your professional artist friends to judge my work”
“Well…they’re not as pretentious as you might think. My friends…they’re really nice. Everybody’s not bad. I mean…it was hard settling in, but…I think I like it now” You were rambling, without meaning to share so much with him. Maybe you’d just been craving to have a real conversation with him all this while. After all, he was the only person in your life who understood, “And Kim Jieong is my favourite part of it anyway. Even if everybody sucks. I look up to him a lot. He…even calls me sweetheart. It always throws me off” 
“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”
You frowned, not expecting that response, “No…he has different nicknames for everyone”
“I see” His reply was curt, like he didn’t believe that. He cleared his throat, “And um…your friends? The other students? Are they cool?”
“I mean, you’ve already met Jeonghan”
“Is that the boy who you were dancing with?”
“Yeah, that’s him”
Hyunjin stayed quiet for a minute and then he said, “He has two left feet”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry” He chuckled dryly, “When you were dancing with him, he almost dropped you…like ten times”
“He only came to the party for me, because I didn’t know anybody. Don’t make fun of him. He was kind of the best part of my day”
“I’m not making fun of him. It’s just an observation” Hyunjin mumbled, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes and he looked at you, “And I saw your face. You were worried he’d drop you too”
“I was not” Your eyes narrowed, but a stupid smile tugged at your lips, “Anyway. You’re one to talk. You’re probably worse”
He laughed properly this time, looking at you over his glasses, “Oh, am I?”
You shrugged, “We’ve never danced together so it could be true”
“I think you’re forgetting that I’m a professional dancer, Y/N” His tone was cocky.
You sighed, facing away to look out, “Ugh. Do you always have to bring up the idol card?”
“The idol card?” He repeated, “That’s my job, what do you mean?”
“Just seems like an unfair advantage”
Hyunjin chuckled, “Fine. Okay. Even if I wasn’t a professional dancer, I bet I’d still be able to take Jeonghan in a dance battle”
“I’m starting to think that you’re obsessed with him…”
Hyunjin laughed, “I guess I see why you chose him now”
Your gaze darted to his, “What?”
You arrived at a railway crossing. The signal was loud, and he stopped the car, foot on the brake as he slowed down. “He is your boyfriend…isn’t he?” He said, so surely. 
You stared at him, wondering how he could ask that so casually, so unaffected. You’d probably die if Hyunjin had a girlfriend. Did he think you’d move on so fucking fast? You woke and fell asleep to the thought of him every day still, months later. You thought of him every waking second. Maybe you should take a book out of Hyunjin’s ability to be vague, “Are you seriously asking me that?”
He looked at you, eyes heavy with emotion. He swallowed, “Yeah. I am”
You stared right back at him, heart pounding fast, “Yeah. I am dating him”
“Oh” He shifted in his seat, “That’s nice…how long have you known him?”
You couldn’t believe he could be so…casual about it. You looked out, “It doesn’t matter”
Hyunjin nodded, “Well. For what it’s worth, Nate seems like a nice guy”
You just couldn’t comprehend how the fuck he could be so casual about this. As if you two had just been an inconvenient situationship and your lives and souls hadn’t completely intertwined this summer. As if you’d just move away, and get a new boyfriend and fall in love. As if you could ever truly move on from Hyunjin. As if he didn't know that you'd been in love with him this whole time. It wasn’t that simple. It could never be.
“So…you really don’t give a fuck?”
“I’m sorry?” He looked at you, feigning innocence, “About what?”
You could have said so many things. Bitterness clawed out of you. “Well, for what it’s worth, Nate’s a great kisser”
His eyes widened, and he nodded, voice falling low, “I’m sure he is”
You couldn’t stop. You wanted your words to stab him like little knives he’d dug into your skin all this while, “And for what it’s worth, I actually trust him” 
Hyunjin tensed up, fists clenching at the wheel. The train was just passing by, and the signal was so loud but you knew he heard you. “I’m…glad you trust him” He ended up saying. 
You watched him, observing every micro-expression. You could have played along, egged him on, made him believe it. He should hurt too, like you were, but you couldn’t wrap your head around this. Was it really so easy for him to move on? He was pretending like nothing ever affected him. Were you seriously the only one who had been invested in the two of you? You let out a laugh, “So that’s it?”
“What?” He looked at you.
“You don’t care? You really think I would just date…a random guy from my class? Because if you think that, you don’t—”
His brows shot up, “I’m sorry, so you’re not dating him? Why would you tell me you were?” 
“Do you care if I was?”
He frowned, eyebrows furrowing, “Seriously? You know I still care about you, right?”
It pissed you off. He had no right to say something like that when he didn’t give a fuck about you. He had just abandoned you, with no intention of ever making up things, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I mean…everything you’ve done to me the past few months has shown me quite the opposite. That you don’t care”
His eyes widened, “Everything I’ve done to you?”
A scoff escaped you, and you were losing it, “I’m sure you had your reasons for never wanting to talk to me again. I, personally, would have just liked a goodbye or an explanation before you decided to leave. That’s just me though. But you know what? Maybe I read too much in what happened this summer”
He swallowed, shifting to look at you, “Look, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. I didn’t know how to explain and I thought that you would understand—”
How the fuck could he expect you to understand? Your voice shot up, and everything you'd wondered over the past few months bubbled to the surface, “You…pushed me away, Hyunjin. You completely got rid of me! I’m sure you had your reasons, but I wasn’t okay. I’m still not fucking okay. It was a complete asshole move to block me for months with no explanation. I didn’t even know you’re capable of something like that, but you know what, it sucks to find out. In my head, I built you up to be some angel on a fucking pedestal. That was obviously my mistake” 
He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and you could see him grappling with what to say. It felt good to render him speechless. It took away from your embarrassment of knowing that Kairi and Chan could probably hear each second of this conversation. 
“Things were always going to end this way. You knew that, Y/N” The way he spoke pissed you off, like he had a rehearsed answer in his head and no real fucking emotions. Why could he just not tell you what he truly felt? Why was he trying so hard to be someone he was not?
A dry chuckle escaped you, and it was better you take out your anger on him because you felt like crying with each word you said, “No, I didn’t know that. if I knew that you were just going to disappear, I would have preferred never to know you”
His gaze burned through you, “Y/N…”
Somebody suddenly knocked on Hyunjin’s window, and you shook away your building tears. It was an officer, and Hyunjin rolled down the window, “Yes?”
He leaned in, not knowing what he was interrupting, “Excuse me? The signal’s running at a delay. There’s going to be a ten minute hold-up”
Hyunjin nodded, “Oh okay”
He rolled the window back up, and looked back at you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even look at him. You hated him and his fucking nonchalance. You swallowed, “I need some air”
Before he could say something, you opened the door, stepping out. There would be a delay anyway, and hardly any cars were behind you. You walked to the side of the street, taking in a breath, willing yourself to not start fucking cry.
Another car door slammed shut behind you, and Hyunjin followed you out.
“Y/N—” He said, walking around the car, following you to the side.
Your emotions were brimming to the top, and you couldn’t keep it in. It would be petty, mean, childish but you deserved to get some answers.
You turned around, voice raising, “If I hadn’t moved to the city, you would have never met me again” It wasn’t a question. You knew he had no plans of returning to town anytime this century, “And you were just okay with that? With never seeing me again?”
He closed his eyes, his body towering over you, “It’s…not that simple”
“Yeah. It is. You didn’t even think I was worth an explanation…or a proper goodbye?”
“I…didn’t know what to say. You just have to believe when I say I’m doing this for your own good”
“Really?” You scoffed, “You expect me to believe that…? You could’ve said anything.  Anything would have been better than what I got. Just tell me what's going on, please”
“Anything I said would have hurt you” His voice was shaking, like he was going to cry. How could he ever explain that he had picked his life over you? That you were the sacrifice he had decided to make?
You loved him, and you couldn’t bear to be the reason he cried but you had so many questions. Your voice was loud, in disbelief and frustration, “How is this any different? You cut me out of your life like it was nothing”
“It wasn’t nothing. It was just as hard for me as—”
“No, I’m not done talking. After losing you, moving to the city was the hardest thing I ever did. Leaving Daejon behind, all my friends…the only life I knew, and this place where I don’t really fit perfectly, but I’m trying so hard to. It is so hard. The only thing I love…I can’t even love that anymore because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you when I’m painting! It’s not fair. You had a choice, Hyunjin. I didn’t” Your voice broke.
“Before I saw you in the shop, I was this close to calling you up” He held up a small gap between his fingers, “I just…always ended up talking myself out of it”
A scoff escaped you, at the ridiculousness of his response, “I really have a hard time believing that”
“I don’t expect you to believe me anyway” He mumbled. You stared at him, crossing your arms, wondering how everything led to this, “I thought you were different, Hyunjin, from every other guy I’ve known in my life… but you…”
He stepped closer to you, running a hand through his hair, “What was I supposed to say to you, Y/N? That I never want to see you again? Do you think that would be easy for me to say?”
“I don’t know, Hyunjin! I don’t fucking know, but anything would have been better than what I got, because the person I knew would never have acted this drastically. So, were you just pretending in Daejon? Or are you pretending now? Because I’m having a real hard time telling who the real you is, Hyunjin—”
His eyes widened at those words, as if they personally struck him. He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him in the process, “Y/N— Stop. I’m not…I never pretended with you”
His grip on you was firm, but enough that you could let go if you wanted. You looked up at him, and you were already so emotional, “Then why are you being so cold? You’ve been acting like you don’t care, but I don’t even know if you’re acting anymore. I feel like…I never saw the real you. That’s what you’re making me believe”
His closed his eyes, shaking his head at your words like they were the worst thing he could hear, “I’m sorry”
Your eyebrows knitted together, voice fading, “For…what?”
“For…changing my number and not telling you” He swallowed, and his hands held yours in between them like a prayer, “For…trying to push you away. For ignoring you in the shop”
His eyes glimmered with incoming tears, but he cleared his throat, and blinked them away, “I’m sorry I didn’t apologise until today”
You swallowed. You’d been waiting for an apology this whole time, but your heart still hurt. There wasn’t any explanation. You couldn’t…just believe him. Your heart squeezed so bad, it felt like a heart attack. You blinked away tears.
“There’s…a lot I want to talk to you about, but I can’t do it here” He swallowed, and there was a cloud of smoke when he talked, it was freezing outside but your heart felt dead, “You just have to believe me when I say I’m doing this for your own good”
“I don’t understand…”
He closed his eyes, and the train at the signal crossing was still passing, giving you a few more moments of his vulnerability, “I’ve told you before. If we didn’t stop talking when we did…it would have led to something more that I can’t deny. I’m not going to regret my choices because I know why I made them. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I will always fucking care about you, it’s insane to even think anything else but…I can’t be in your life, and you can’t be in mine”
Tears threatened to shoot up, but you had some dignity clinging on so you said, “Then what is this? Why are you still being nice to me, making conversation? Why did you show up tonight? Why are you driving me home? If you don’t want me in your life, then just…stay out of it, Hyunjin”
He blinked, glossy eyes, and suddenly the car behind you honked. The train had passed, and you were free to cross.
His voice was shaking and this was the most emotion you’d seen in him in months, “I…couldn’t leave you at the party. It’s not safe…of course I had to drive you home. I would go insane if something happened to you”
You ripped your hands away from him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not your responsibility anymore”
»»————-
The rest of the ride was fucking horrible. You stared out the window the entire time, and Hyunjin didn’t say anything else. Maybe it really was over now. What was left to salvage? You don’t know how much Kairi and Chan had heard, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were probably getting back together, which meant you couldn’t be a part of this anymore. If Kairi started hanging out with Chan again, you would obviously not be invited. Not after they witnessed you being such a bitch to their best friend. They were friends first, after all. You were the stranger.
“The next right turn” You mumbled, as you approached the street you lived on. Hyunjin brought the car to a stop. They were now awake in the backseat. You didn’t even know what to say. You unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbing your bag of things, avoiding eye contact with anybody, “Thank you for the ride home”
“I can walk you home” Chan offered.
“I’ll be fine. It’s a minute away” You replied, holding your bag to your chest.
“It’s really late out” Chan replied, insisting. You didn’t want to argue with him any further. The longer you argued, the longer you’d have to stay in this car, next to Hyunjin. He was looking at you, but he was pretending real hard not to. The eyes flickering back and forth, it couldn’t fool you. You’d become an expert on all things him. These secretive glances were all you had back then, so how could you not notice them now?
“Don’t worry about it, Chan” You replied, shooting them a smile so they believed you. Chan nodded, and you glanced at Kairi. She looked tired, but she was in his arms, so she was clearly very happy. She smiled warmly, and you wonder if they’d heard you breaking down. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Thank you for a perfect birthday, Y/N. You had a good time?”
“Of course.” You nodded. You were suffocating in here. You reached for the doorknob, but then you heard Hyunjin’s voice, “Good luck with class”
You couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but you’d die for it. You stepped out into the cold, glancing briefly back, “Yeah. Thanks.”
It didn’t matter because he had already looked away. It’s like he couldn’t bear to see you anymore.
»»————-
“Do you want to talk about it?” Your neighbour, Jeongin, stood in the doorway. You had been standing in the cold for a while, staring at the spot the car had been. It had driven off a while ago, but you could still picture it where it stood. The humming of the engine, the heat, the stupid 80s music stuck in your head. You had been so mean to him. He didn’t deserve it.
You looked at him in surprise, “You’re awake?”
“I work on European time” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. It was freezing cold, and you could feel it in your bones. It had never been this way back home. “Let’s just go inside” You spoke.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea” He smiled, pulling you in by your arm, “I was wondering how the party went”
You followed him up the stairs, feeling like a zombie in each step, “It was good. I missed you at it. You should have come”
“I’m sure Nate kept you plenty company” Jeongin laughed, “Are you going to go to sleep now?”
It was almost six am, and the sun was rising. You don’t think you could fall asleep with these thoughts in your head. You glanced at him, “Why? You got something in mind?”
He grinned, like he'd been waiting for you to ask him this. And so you spent the dawn with Jeongin, in his cosy apartment, struggling over a 1000-piece puzzle and downing the red wine he’d brought you. He didn’t ask you any questions, which was nice. You wouldn’t even know where to start. He was sweet and he was always smiling, telling you about his work and all the new video games he’d bought. You prolonged everything, asking more questions, anything to keep the focus on him. You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment and face your thoughts.
“How long have you been living here?” You asked. The window in his apartment was bigger than yours, facing out at the busy street, as the city woke up and came back to life.
“Almost my entire life. Moved here when I was twelve” He told you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be excited about this anymore, or about anything else. You missed your friends, the familiarity and comfort of them. You missed the diner, and it’s cheap coffee.
“Does it ever get easy?”
He laughed, “Honestly, no. Seoul…is hard to fall in love with, but once you do…you never go back”
You sighed, placing the final piece of the puzzle. You missed your art shop. It had always kept you safe and happy. If you knew it was going to be this hard leaving that behind, you would have thought twice, “I think…some people probably never get used to it. That makes me sad”
“Yeah?” He asked, “But you’re used to it now, aren’t you? You once told me it was written in the stars for you to come here”
“I don’t know if I believe in that anymore”
He relaxed on his couch, “I’m sure things will change. You’ll find something worth staying for”
You shrugged, pushing the puzzle to the side and it fell apart, all the pieces getting jumbled up. He didn’t complain about you ruining your hours worth of hard work. He just watched you grapple with your thoughts. You looked up at him, feeling hollow inside, “I think I made a mistake, Jeongin”
»»————-
Kairi had apparently found the best dessert shop in the city. She had pleaded you for hours until you’d decided to come. There were no seats inside the place, it was so busy, and so you and Kairi sat on a patio table outside. You looked around, as you swirled your hot coffee around. There were no leaves on the trees anymore. Winter had finally come.
“I’m going to bring Chris this when he gets back” She spoke, through a mouthful of brownie, “He doesn’t really have a sweet tooth, but I know he will love this. I once baked the boys this cake for Jisung’s birthday, and Chris said he hated it, but I saw him eat all the leftovers later. He literally stole mine too!” She laughed.
“When he’s back from where?”
“Oh, right. They’re in Japan. They had a flight the morning after my birthday, remember? Well, they’re supposed to show up at an event in Tokyo, and then they come back home for a few days, until they go back again. It’s the end of the season so there’s a bunch of award shows” She told you, sprinkling sugar crystals into her coffee. You didn’t know that they were in an entirely different country, “Must be hard. All the flying back and forth”
She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, “Not really. They’re used to it at this point. It’s tiring, but…in their line of work, they have to learn to adjust”
Maybe that was your biggest flaw. You couldn’t adjust. To a different life, to new friends, to a new bed. To a life without him. 
“I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday”
Her eyes widened, and she kept her cup of coffee down, “What are you talking about? You’re the one that made it perfect. You made it happen in the first place!”
“Yeah, but…” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed, “You must have heard us”
She swallowed, “I didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t my business to.”
You looked up at her, “Chan must hate me”
“What? Why would he?”
You looked down, “I’m…an asshole”
She reached ahead, grabbing your hand, “No one thinks you’re an asshole”
You let out a sigh, and you didn’t believe her, but there was no point arguing. 
The next week, the boys flew back home. You only knew because Kairi told you. She had been counting down the days till they returned. She invited you out to a small get-together, but they would all be there. You said no. 
Slowly, all your plans with Kairi became into plans with Kairi and Chan. You wouldn’t mind at all, because you loved Chan. You just hated that he almost always came with Hyunjin. So you never went to any of those. He would be grateful. He probably never wanted to see you again either. Your time with Kairi became divided. You didn’t blame her. She was in love, and you wouldn’t deny her any time with him. It became obvious how much happier she was around him.
A week later, you realised you still had Hyunjin’s sweater that he’d given to you at the party. So, you washed it and returned it to Kairi, hoping he wasn’t angry that you kept it with you for so long. You’d truthfully forgotten. You wouldn’t want to keep anything of his longer than you had to anyway. 
»»————-
Nate was staring in awe at your painting. It was balanced on the easel, and you stood next to it, embarrassed at the attention it got. Nate laughed in disbelief, “Holy shit. That’s…beautiful. When did you get the time to make that?”
It was show-and-tell day. You were almost in the middle of your semester, and you were supposed to display your best work in class. You looked back at your painting. Ever since Kairi’s birthday, you hadn’t left your room. You’d been fixated on this. There was only one good thing left for you here, and it was this opportunity. You’d do anything to grasp at it, and maybe all your sadness and heartbreak had ended up being perfect inspiration. You had been endlessly inspired, each brushstroke came to you so easily. Perhaps all good art did come from suffering. Your best work to date you’d done when feeling your worst. You’d sniffled, and cried and fought your way through it.
“I…found time” You shrugged. Your hands were folded behind your back as you explained it to every single person who passed it. All the easels were set up in a circle, and it was almost like those expensive Château classes you could never afford to go to. Nate smiled at you, tilting his head, “You’re so mysterious. It suits you”
“I’m really not trying to be” You replied, “It just…came to me”
His eyes trailed over you. You’d tried to dress your best, an outfit you’d bought off the fancy boutiques, and it had cost you a fortune but none of your own clothes would fit the vibe. Nate’s voice dropped, “Is it weird if I say that you being coy is a turn-on?” 
You smiled at him, wondering why his words had no effect on you. He made you feel wanted. He flirted with you endlessly. He was attracted to you. He actually wanted to talk to you. 
But you knew that was all. He didn’t want to date you. He certainly didn’t have any intentions of a relationship. Perhaps, you didn’t want to just be wanted anymore. 
“Mmh. It’s…a little weird” You teased him.
Kim Jieong approached you, and you straightened up, pulling Nate to the side. He glanced at your painting, and he certainly looked impressed. There was a small smile on his lips, and he was observing your art with all the focus in the world, “How many hours did you spend on this?”
“Maybe…twenty”
He laughed at your feeble attempt of lying, “That looks like…it took a hundred, at the least. Is it all you did this week?”
You nodded, “That’s what I’m here for”
He looked at your painting again, “As your professor, I have to say that I wish you hadn’t sacrificed sleep for this, but…” He leaned in closer, voice dropping, “This is exactly why I picked you, sweetheart”
Your eyes widened, not used to this proximity, but you felt so special. He hadn’t said this to anybody else. He was far too close to you, but you blinked at him, “Are you proud of me?”
He laughed, lifting a finger up, “You’re not there yet”
Your face fell.
“I’ll be proud of you if you can get that done in a day” He smiled wide, hands clasped behind his back, “You should start preparing for next week. I want you to make something special. If you win, it’d mean a lot for you, Y/N”
You nodded, remembering the assignment. The best painting in the class would be chosen for a prize. A scholarship, and the chance to get your work displayed in Seoul Museum of Art. It would certainly make everything much easier, taking the burden off you, and you’d also get a perfect start. You would finally be able to prove your worth here.
»»————-
You’d been painting all day, and your clothes were ruined with stains. You were working on the assignment for next week, it had to be perfect to win, and you hadn't got much sleep, completely immersing yourself into this. In a little break, you laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the call to go through. Yeonjun picked up your phone call, and he sounded so happy on the other end. It had been a while since you’d talked to him and he apologised, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work. There was a company retreat last week, and we went out to these cabins in the woods. It was straight from a horror movie, and there was no network there. I took some pictures for you though”
“How did it go? That sounds nice, to be away from everything”
He laughed, “It was. I missed you though. But…I have some news to tell you…something happened”
“Yeah?”
“Remember the girl from my work I said was cute? She…kissed me. We actually, ended up making out in the hot tub. It was really fucking nice” You could imagine him smiling on the other end, and it warmed your heart. You sat up, smiling, “Are you serious? That’s so…amazing. So…you guys made out? Is that all that happened?”
He laughed on the other end, “No. We…slept together. Every night of the retreat”
Your eyes widened, “You’re kidding me. So, you really really like this girl”
“I mean, yeah, things with her are so…simple and easy. She gets me, and she’s so fun to be around. Sometimes that’s just how it has to be”
You thought of the polaroids on his desk of Hana, “Did she never ask about the pictures on your work desk?”
Yeonjun laughed nervously, “I…ended up taking those down. It’s easier to move on that way. I mean, I won’t ever be over her, but…it’s a start”
“Yeah. You’re probably right”
“I may have discovered a new kink about myself” He joked, “I have an urge to just move to that cabin and live in that hot tub forever”
You smiled, “Maybe you should”
“How about you though?”
“Well…I’ve been trying to make my magnum opus. If I have the best painting in class, I get to win this insane amount of money for a scholarship, and…it’ll be perfect”
“Well, you’re obviously going to win. I already know you’re the best in class”
You smiled, “I appreciate your faith in me…I think I’m going to start working on it in the classroom. It’s going to be a really big canvas, and there’s not much space in my apartment”
“That makes sense. And um, I wanted to ask, how are things with…Hyunjin? Did you guys ever talk after you saw him in the shop?”
You lay back down, and the lie was on easy on your tongue, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since then”
“Wow. He…hasn’t even reached out to you?”
You shrugged, echoing his words from before, “I don’t care. It’s easier to move on that way”
»»————-
Your canvas lay across multiple tables, occupying most of the space in your classroom. You’d joined them all together, it had taken a lot of strength, but it was worth it. Now, you sat on top of the paper cross-legged in the center. It was easier to work this way, as if the entire floor was your painting. You hope you weren’t breaking any rules by being in the classroom after hours. You’d just wanted some time to work on your painting, and you weren’t exactly inspired at your place. Your anger from the past few days had manifested into this; an insane obsession to make this your best work ever. You would prefer that over sadness. This, after all, was the only reason you’d come here. Not for him. It was almost midnight, and you scooted across the canvas, filling in more details of your sketch. Your plan was far too ambitious, but you were going to have to go all out to win the contest. It was the only thing you cared about right now.
“I didn’t know anybody was in here” The voice made you jump. Nobody was supposed to come in here right now, the building was shut down. You glanced up, watching Kim Jieong walk in, and you smiled at him, “Professor. Hi”
His eyes narrowed in on your silhouette, and a familiar smile across his face, “Oh, it’s you. What…in god’s name are you doing on top of the tables?”
“Um, my canvas is pretty big, so I thought it’d be easier to work like this” You explained. He laughed loudly, “You’re adorable, Y/N. You know that?”
You sat back down comfortably, realising he would let you stay here, “Um. Thank you, professor”
He looked around, “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt you. Why is it so dark in here though? I can hardly see you"
Adjusting your canvas and brushes around it, you spoke, “I like it that way. I think much better in the dark, the lights were too bright. Plus, the moonlight looks really nice”
You think he smiled at your words but you couldn’t tell in the dark. You could barely see him, just his silhouette and you heard him laugh. You heard his footsteps as he approached his own desk, “So, we’re far from the final project. I’m curious why you’re in the studio”
You bit your lip, feeling anxious about all this effort you were putting in, “I’m working on the contest painting. The scholarship…I really want to try my best. I also don’t work too well at my apartment, I thought maybe I could work here”
“When I got a notification that a student was still in the studio, I was curious. I had to cut my dinner short”
“Oh” You blinked, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it notified you…”
“Of course, it’s for the safety of our students” He smiled, stepping towards your workspace, “Would you indulge me in what you’re working on…or is it a surprise?”
Your canvas wasn’t ready to show, “I’d prefer if you see it when it’s finished”
He laughed, and asked, “May I sit next to you?”
“Oh, you won’t be getting back to your dinner?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, I’d like to stay here with you”
He was perhaps the only person in the world you wanted to be around right now, so you didn’t mind. His presence would calm and comfort you, “Of course. That’d be fine with me, professor”
He pulled a stool up close to your workspace. The greenhouse-studio was deathly quiet and he inched closer to your table. You stared at your big sketch, “I’m really sorry about interrupting your dinner. I thought it’d be fine if I let myself in”
“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. My wife was pretty tired anyway. Just gave us a reason to end the night early”
He was at dinner with his wife? You didn’t even know he was married, but he was in his late thirties so it made sense. You continued adding details, but you couldn’t focus when he was observing you so close. Thankfully the dark could conceal your expressions and embarrassment. You ought to feel proud. The greatest artist in the country was here to watch you paint.
“Have you…eaten dinner yet?” You heard him ask. You glanced up, gesturing to the side of the classroom where your leftovers lay, “Yeah, I had some chinese takeout. Although when I’m painting, I don’t get hungry for hours.”
He just hummed in response. You were grateful that your mentor wanted to sit with you so badly that he skipped dinner with his wife. But the other part disliked the supervision, and you did want some alone time. Still, he was the greatest living artist, so you’d learn to adjust to it. After everything that had happened, he was also your only hope of making it big in the city. He was the sole reason you were still here, spending thousands just to stay in Seoul so you could attend the classes. You looked at him, and he was admiring you while you worked, so you said, “I might be here all night. I wouldn’t want to keep you"
He frowned, “I don’t mind staying. I could get some work done too”
“Oh…sure” You looked back at your sketch, erasing off a mistake. He stood up, walking towards the cabinet, sifting through canvases. Usually, you weren’t awkward around him, but right now it was really late and you were tired to make small talk. But it’d be weirder if you just stayed quiet. You felt a need to fill in the silence with anything, “So, Professor, um…your wife. How did you meet her?”
He shrugged in your peripheral vision, not particularly excited to answer, “The usual. We were high school sweethearts. Got married as soon as we graduated. I was too focused on my art to pursue other women anyway”
You nodded. Well, that made it even more awkward. So you kept going, “Right. Wow. High school, that’s really cool. Was she…any of the inspirations for your paintings?”
“Some of them, yes”
“That’s really nice.” You smiled, sketching out the boundaries for the stars. The idea for this painting had come to you after waking from a dreamless sleep. You’d ended up researching for it for hours, making sure you were portraying accurate art. You couldn’t wait to present your concept next week.
“What about you?” He asked.
“Sorry?” 
“You have a boyfriend?”
You blinked, a nervous laugh escaping you, “Um…not currently. I’m also…I guess, trying to focus on my art, and build a career from it”
He smiled at you, crossing his arms, “Guess we’re more alike than I thought”
You looked back at your canvas as he walked closer to you, “The temptation to understand your sketch is a lot. Can you give me a hint as to what it’s about?”
You slid your sketchbook towards him, where you’d drawn up a miniature version of the sketch, “All I can tell you now is that it’s…a landscape, inspired by my time in the city so far. I was walking home the other night and I couldn’t help but notice the night sky. I’ve always liked it, and I know it’s been overdone in art, but I wanted to explore a new side of it. Someone once told me that there’s no stars in the city, which just…sounds so sad. I was thinking along the lines of that. What do you think so far?”
He pushed his glasses up, a proud smile on his face, “I think that…I’m incredibly lucky to have you. I can't wait to see what you'll do with this”
Your eyes widened, unsure how to respond, “Um…I mean, we’re the lucky ones. We get to study under you, Professor”
He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty studio, “Stop calling me Professor. I think you and me are way past that, don’t you?”
“It’s…only appropriate.” You frowned, going back to work. That was weird. You don't think you would feel comfortable calling him by his first name. And then, you felt another stupid need to fill in the prolonged silence. He was here watching you after all, you could just ask him all the things you’d wondered for years, “Um, I wanted to ask. The painting about the moons. Celestial Fatality. Did you paint that when you were in college?”
He hummed mindlessly, not really answering your question, then he grabbed your sketchbook off the table. Eyebrows furrowed, he stared at it, "I think you can work on your perspective, but these are nice. These hands. You’ve drawn them countless times”
“Yeah” You felt embarrassed, and climbed off the table so you could also see what he was looking at, “It’s a friend from back home”
“Did you draw these from observation?” He asked, as you joined him at his side.
“Hmm. He really wanted me to draw his hands,” You said, recalling the time Hyunjin made you observe them.
Kim Jieong laughed, “Can’t blame him”
A nervous laugh escaped you at those words, “Yeah.” What did he mean by that? You reached to get your sketchbook back. Instead of handing it to you though, he sat down on the desk, turning the pages of your book, “These ones are pretty good too”
“Yeah” You nodded, taking a seat next to him, unsure of what to do, “I made those a while ago”
As he turned another page, something drifted out, landing on the floor. Your eyes widened, and you reached for it. The photobooth strip pictures of you and Hyunjin. You felt embarrassed, but thankfully, Kim Jieong didn’t notice or see them fall out. You grabbed them, hiding them between your palms on your lap. There was nothing wrong with him seeing them, but…it was embarrassing and stupid to carry around pictures of a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 
“You’re very talented” Kim Jieong spoke again, voice dropping low.
“Oh…thank you. It means a lot hearing it from someone like you” 
He finally put your sketchbook to the side, looking right at you. He did look kind of intimidating in this light, towering over you, “This scholarship means a lot to you?”
You swallowed, feeling embarrassed, “Yeah. I could use the help. It’s an expensive life here, and I’d really appreciate it. Plus, the exhibition would be a great kickstart to…a career”
“The others don’t need the scholarship. They just want it so they can win” He said, then leaned forward, “Don’t the rich kids get on your nerves sometimes? They don’t act out of necessity, but you…” He pointed a soiled paintbrush at you, “You’re wonderful because… you’re desperate”
“I’m sorry?”
“Desperate to be seen, and respected. As an artist, I mean. I don’t mean that badly, but all great inventions are born out of necessity. I think that’s why you stand out from the rest”
You didn’t know how to take this compliment, “I guess”
“You know you have the potential to go so many places?” He asked, tilting his head, waving your sketchbook about in one hand. It was so dark in here, and the building was completely empty except for the two of you. This…felt increasingly inappropriate. You were in the studio after-hours with your professor and he was far too close for comfort. He was your favourite artist…but he was still a grown man and you didn’t want to overstep as a student.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged and stepped closer to you, caging you against the table, “I mean, the right people can get you into any exhibition you dream of in the world. Paris, New York, Seoul. Isn’t that what you fantasise?”
An awkward chuckle escaped you. He was far too close to you, “Yeah. That’s the end goal. The scholarship…would definitely make it easier to get there”
Suddenly, the sound of roaring thunder distracted you and you looked to the windows. The clouds had now hidden the moon, casting a dark shadow over the entire art studio. A chill ran up your spine, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable at his proximity.
“Um..I think the last bus home leaves in twenty minutes. I’ll try to catch it” You stated, shooting him a smile and standing up.
You took your bag, but Kim Jieong grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him, “You can always convince me”
“Sorry?” You fumbled, stupidly. You…had to have heard him wrong. What was he talking about?
He smiled sweetly, and in the dark, his glasses glittered, “If you won the scholarship, the other students wouldn’t question it, you’ve already proven your worth to everyone”
“Right” You were unsure what he was trying to say, or hinting at. What the fuck did he mean by saying that you could convince him? “I should really go”
“It’s pouring. You’ll catch your death out there, Y/N” He stated, pointing to the storm outside. You swallowed, his grip on your arm foreign, “That’s fine. I have an umbrella”
“Ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride home” He shook his head.
“You really don’t have to. I already feel bad for ruining your dinner”
“Oh, stop apologising, Y/N. Your sweet talk drives me mad sometimes” His hand moved from your arm to your waist, wrapping around it and he pulled you closer to his body, "You stress too much. You need to learn to let things go”
You took a step back, unsure how to process this, “Professor…”
He closed the distance, and his other hand grabbed your chin, voice low in the dark room, “Why do you seem so nervous? You don’t have to be around me. We’re just talking, aren’t we?”
“Right” You were having a hard time breathing, panic surging through you. He was right. Of course. He was your professor. He would never hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He was a living legend. You shouldn’t be nervous. He was just being kind to you. He was the only person you’d looked up to your entire life, the reason you’d tried so hard to come here, and he would never do something wrong.
“I can see you struggling in class, and I know you’re doing everything you can to prove your worth. I’ve asked you this before, about what your dream is. ” He spoke, voice as low as a whisper, fingers gripping your jaw. 
“I…I don’t know what you mean” Your voice was shaking from the nerves, with no fucking idea how to navigate this situation. If you pushed him away, you’d lose all chance of winning the prize.
“Well….whatever it is” He smiled sweetly, and in the low light he looked less like the mentor you’d grown up loving and more menacing, “All you have to do…is ask me”
His eyes flickered to your lips, and back to your eyes. His grip on your waist was so tight, it felt like his palm was burning into your skin through your shirt. Had you somehow given him an alluded hint? He took a step even closer.
“I’m sorry….” You pushed him just enough so he wasn’t holding you anymore.
He looked surprised, eyes wide, and he laughed, “Y/N…What are you doing?” You grabbed your bag in a hurry, “I’m sorry. I should really go. The last bus…”
He called after you, but you rushed through the glass doors to the emergency stairwell. You didn’t want to be stuck in the elevator with him. You couldn’t breathe, legs moving off their own accord. A flash of lightning through the glass windows scared you, and you all but ran down the emergency stairwell, bag hanging off your shoulder, fists clenched. What the fuck. He obviously wasn’t making a move on you, right? You were just being paranoid. He was your professor. He was…the most famous artist in Seoul. He was the kindest person ever. You had to have been reading into things. 
You pushed the heavy door open, walking out onto the street. It was pouring rain, and you let out a breath, taking in the air. The rain soaked through your clothes, and you were shivering. You wanted to call Hyunjin so he could pick you up and so you could cry in his arms, the only place where you'd feel safe, but he'd never even given you his new number. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. You looked down at your hands, and in your tension…you’d completely crushed the photobooth strip to pieces. 
Raindrops slowly trickled down, tracing the ruined paper in your palm. The only memory left of you and Hyunjin was now gone.
»»————-
You didn’t show up to class the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.
You were still trying to wrap your head around it. Were you stupid for declining his advances and whatever he was suggesting? You couldn’t go back to class and face him. You’d be too embarrassed of your reaction. Maybe he wasn’t even suggesting anything and you jumped to conclusions. You had to have been imagining things. After all, he didn't actually do anything. Still, you’d ruined all your chances of getting the scholarship and succeeding in his class. What if he brought it up in class? What would the others think?
Your body was shaking from the cold. The heating in your apartment wasn’t working, so you sat on the floor, back to the kitchen counter, knees pulled up. You’d forgotten your huge canvas in class too, and it was probably in the garbage by now.
Your phone buzzed loudly, and Felix was calling. You picked up so he wouldn’t worry, but your voice sounded hollow, “Yes?”
“Babe. Where have you been? You’re not answering any texts the past week”
“I’m sorry…I got caught up in things. Is everything okay, Felix?”
“More than okay” He smiled on the other end, “I’m at the diner. They’re throwing a big party tonight! Apparently, it’s been ten years since it opened! Can you believe it?”
“Wow…it feels like we’d been going there our whole life”
“That’s what I said!” His excited voice came in, “So anyway for their anniversary celebration…all the drinks and food is free. You best believe I’m making full use of it”
You could hear so many familiar voices in the back, “Who all is there…?”
“Umm…well me and Minho, obviously. Hana’s here too. Seonmi, Eunbi and the others. Seungmin’s here as well.”
“Wow…I really wish I was there, Felix”
“Mm, I wish that too. Your apprenticeship better be worth it, Y/N. You’re missing all the good stuff. And everybody in Daejon misses you a lot. Mrs. Aera came up to me today and said the shop’s a mess without you haha”
“Really? It is? Mina isn’t taking care of it?”
“Ah, you know how Mina is. She can’t organise for the life of her. That shop was basically running because of you” He laughed, and you could hear him chew something.
“What are you eating?”
“Blueberry-chocolate waffles. There’s this new recipe Seonmi is trying out, and it’s so good. You should have it when you come back. How about you, love? Are you missing me a lot?”
“So much” You mumbled.
“Kim Jieong better be worth it” He sighed, “I guess I forgive you because you’ve been obsessed with him for years. Is he as dreamy as you imagined?”
“Um…” Your gut hurt, the memory of that night flooding through you, “Yeah. He’s…great”
“I’m sure he is” Felix chuckled, “I still remember how you stole all the magazines in the library that had his paintings in it”
“I didn’t steal them” You protested, “I just…borrowed them for a really long time”
He laughed, “To fawn all over your artist crush. I get it. And…what about your other lover? You accidentally bumped into him yet?”
You forced a smile, not having enough energy to protest that he wasn’t your lover, “No…I haven’t seen him”
“Well. Seoul isn’t that big, I’m sure you’ll find him. Or he’ll find you. Oh, I also forgot to tell you! A new cafe opened up in Daejon last week. It’s some fusion book-and-coffee cafe. They actually have the best coffee in town, no you didn’t hear me say that Seonmi” He started laughing, and you could hear them in the background. Suddenly, the past few months felt like a joke.
There were only two reasons you’d uprooted your life and come here. Now, you’d lost them both. 
So why were you still here?
Maybe you had acted rashly. You thought you’d fit in here, and that this was where you were meant to be. You’d felt stuck there, but here you weren’t any better. You'd probably only found the courage to come here because you knew Hyunjin was here too, and that was clearly...not the right thing to do. He didn't even want you near him, or anywhere in his life. He had made that plenty clear.
“I think I made a mistake” You whispered.
“Sorry?” Felix asked, still laughing loudly, “What mistake?”
“Moving out…I shouldn’t have done that”
“Wait…what? What do you mean?”
“I think I should come home”
“You’re messing with me. Right?” Felix laughed, “Didn’t you want to move to the city since you were fifteen?”
“But I was a kid. I didn’t know anything. I had no idea what to expect”
“Y/N…what are you saying?”
“I was happy in Daejon. I should never have come to Seoul” You stood up, moving to your bedroom.
It was like a parasite, an idea festering into your brain and heart, that maybe this was the reason for this unhappiness. Things were perfect in Daejon. Why had you been complaining all your life? All of your happy memories were there, so the logical thing to do…was go back to where they were created. Then you’d be happy again. You hadn’t learnt how to be happy in this house, in this city, in this new life. 
“Babe. I would be the happiest boy in the world if you came home to me, but maybe you should think this through. Did something happen? Why are you being like this?”
You grabbed your duffel bag off the shelf, “I can’t go back to class, Felix! I can’t. I messed up, big time”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t. You could never—”
“You don’t even know what happened!” You yelled. He fell silent on the other end, “Love. Just…what’s going on?”
You stared at your empty bag, “I’m…coming home. I should never have come here”
“Is that Y/N?” Minho’s familiar, comforting voice came in. You wanted to hug him and never let go. They were so far away. “Yeah” Felix responded to him, voice falling, “She says she’s…coming home”
“Give me the phone” Minho mumbled, “Y/N. What’s going on?”
You tossed your clothes in your bag, messily zipping it up, “I can’t stay here, Min”
“But what about the art classes?”
“If I don’t withdraw, I’ll probably be kicked out anyway” You mumbled, “I didn’t go to classes all week"
“You should think this through”
“I have thought it through! It was a stupid fucking mistake. One I needed to make. You know what they say anyway. The grass is greener on the other side. I just fell for the charms of the city, like everybody else”
“No disrespect but you’re making no sense” Minho’s voice was harsh, “You can’t just give up”
“Can you give the phone back to Felix please?” You asked.
“Fine” You heard it being passed around and then his voice came in, “Love. I’m here”
“Lix” You swallowed, “I know it seems like I’m being irrational, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I know it’s embarrassing and stupid, but maybe I was never supposed to be here”
Felix’s voice was so soft, calm, encouraging. You just needed to be near him, in his arms. “I believe you, Y/N. I’m gonna be okay with whatever you decide. I just really want you to think about this”
“I…I want to hug you, Lix” A sniffle escaped you, “I don’t want to go back to class” The idea had completely taken over you.
“Are you sure?”
“Nothing can make me stay” You swallowed. There was a sigh of resignation on the other end, and you knew he wouldn’t fight with you. He would agree with whatever you decided, and that’s what you needed right now. That’s why you called him, and not Yeonjun, or your other friends. Felix was the one person who wanted you home more than anything. He wouldn’t talk you out of it, even if this seemed like the stupidest decision you might be making. 
“What do you need me to do?” He asked, voice soft on the other end. Relief spread through you, and you stopped to look at the window outside your apartment, “A train ticket.”
You could sublease your apartment. You could figure the rest out from the comfort of your real home. You could go back to Aera’s, and get your life in order. You’d find a way to love Felix back. After all, he was the only one who wanted you the way you needed to be wanted. Maybe you were destined for that kind of life after all, where everything stays the same everyday. But that’s good, it was safe. The boy you loved had made you think that you belonged in the city, but he couldn't be more wrong.
That’s what you told yourself, at least, ripping your paintings off the wall. In your short-lived time here, you’d made and put them up to feel less lonely. There’d be no room to carry them back, so you bunched them up, carrying them to the garbage disposal in your apartment. As you shoved them in the disposal, you felt nothing. The hallway was warmer than your apartment and it made you feel a tad better.
Your phone buzzed again, and Felix had sent you something. The train ticket he’d bought for you. It was for tomorrow morning. You knew that you could always trust Felix, with anything. He would always be there for you, if nothing else. Perhaps you'd taken your friendship with him for granted this whole time.
“Need some help?” Jeongin asked. He was coming up the stairs, probably after having heard your struggle with the garbage. You shot him a smile, nodding. He came over, helping you, “Are you redecorating?”
“You could say that…”
“Wait. Are these your paintings?” He realised, stopping halfway.
“Can you help me with something?” You looked at him. He looked confused, and he was frowning, “Um. Sure. What do you need help with?”
“My suitcases…I don’t think the elevator is working”
“Are you going somewhere?” He tilt his head, further confusion scrunching his face. In another life, you and Jeongin could have been really good friends. 
“I’m just going home for a while” You mumbled, shutting the garbage door. For a while would be forever. He didn’t need to know that. It’s not like he would be sad, or miss your presence. 
“Oh. Okay. Of course, I’ll be there in a bit”
Back in your apartment, your phone buzzed again. It was your groupchat with Jeonghan and Minnie. You skimmed through the messages, feeling regretful.
yn are you sick? what’s going on? professor jieong told us you weren’t eligible for the prize anymore
You turned your phone off, staring outside the little kitchen window. The traffic wasn’t as loud as usual. It was a quiet night.
You hugged yourself, trying to find a singular reason to stay. Why had you wanted this life for so long? It had given you nothing but heartbreak, yet a part of you was so sad about leaving tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes shut, a single tear escaping. Maybe you wanted a sign to stay, despite everything in you screaming to leave. When you opened you eyes, your reflection mirrored on the glass pane and then you saw it.
A snowflake drifting down. It twirled in place and your eyes followed its path before it settled on your ledge, quickly crumbling into nothingness.
And then more followed, a flurry of snow falling like stardust. It was beautiful, a cloud of white enveloping everything so quickly, covering the street below. 
Your first snow in the city. 
A bitter smile tugged at your lips. 
The doorbell rang.
Jeongin was already here to help you with the bags. 
So much for a sign.
You grabbed your duffel, and your suitcase, wheeling it out. The quicker you moved with things, the easier it would be. Reaching for the rusty brass doorknob, you pulled the door open.
“Can you take this one? I’ll bring the other” You mumbled, pushing your things out. He nodded, still seemingly confused but he asked no questions, “What time’s your train?”
“In a few hours” You glanced at your phone, “But if there’s going to be a snowstorm, I’d prefer being at the station early…”
He grinned, still so happy and you wish he could share his secrets of eternal happiness, “Smart move. If it was me, I’d probably miss my train. Can’t tell you how many times that’s happened”
You smiled at him, “I can’t afford that”
“I called a taxi cab for you” He said. You nodded, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Thank you, Jeongin”
You stepped back into your apartment. There wasn’t much you’d brought with you, so there wasn’t much you had to take back. You’d never grown fond of this apartment. It had always felt like an inbetween place, while you waited your life to be perfect. Waiting was doing no favours for you.
You shoved your sketchbook into your duffel, putting on your coat before closing the apartment door behind you, and your throat closed up as you realised what you were doing. This was so fucking stupid, and this was rash but what else could you even do? Maybe you could come back to the city in the future if you wanted, but right now it was a terrible decision. You would go back home and you would hug Felix, and maybe you would kiss him and the ache in your heart would be better. The thought of his arms around you, as someone who genuinely cared about you, already made you want to cry.
You unceremoniously dragged your bag across the landing, and the taxi must have arrived already because you heard a loud honk.
It was freezing in the otherwise heated hallway. Your breaths came out in soft mists.
The door downstairs must have been left open, sending cold winds and flurries of snowflakes up the apartment. 
Jeongin would never forget to do that…
As you approached the top step with your bags, you realised who’d left it open.
Draped in a beige trench coat, cheeks red from the cold, Hyunjin stood at the bottom of your staircase.
»»————-
masterlist ⇒
please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 
650 notes · View notes
axelsagewrites · 5 months
Note
Hello, dear reader. I'd like to make a wish for Rhaenyra's little sister, maybe a year or two. And she never liked Alicent, who after marrying the king tries (along with Otto) to demote her to bastard status (but Viserys loves his little girl too much to do this to her). Of course, things get even worse when Rhaenyra's sister gets engaged to Harwin...
Thank you for your attention, I like your stories 🫶🏻. Another thing, can I stop by more often? I wish I had more of my ideas adorned with your writing
Harwin Strong*Suitable Match
Pairing: Harwin x f!reader
Word count: 1320
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Warnings: Step parent hating step child, secret relationship, kind of implied smut
a/n: ahh thank u sm for being so sweet and ofc request as much or talk however much u want. sorry i didnt reply sooner i just didnt want to lose the request x
Masterlist Here
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A life of a princess was something to envy. Well so many had claimed however after the death of your mother life felt like an ever falling spiral. Your sister began to grow closer to Alicent after the death and while you were happy for her to have a friend Alicent had always been unkind to you.
It had started small with her asking Rhaenyra not to let you join in their games to her unpicking your needle work whenever you would wander off to stretch your legs. Soon you gave up on even trying to be nice to her. anytime she was invited to dinner was met with loud sighs from you.
“Why does she hate me?” you pouted one night as Rhaenyra upbraided your hair.
Your sister rolled her eyes as she began to brush your hair out, “She doesn’t hate you. she’s just not used to a little sister,”
“She’s mean,”
“Cmon she isn’t that bad?”
-
You didn’t want to say I told you so when Alicent was betrothed to your father but the look on your face said it for you. at least Rhaenyra was able to marry and move away. you were instead stuck living at court with your evil stepmother and her spawn. Well, the children were kind to you, but Alicent constantly used them to get under your skin.
She’d send toddler Aegon running over with pretend crown shouting that he was going to be king. Or she would have a 2-year-old Aemond claim he was your husband. She tried to make Helena spill wine on your dress one time, but the poor girl burst into tears and confessed to you instantly.
Instead Alicent settled on insisting that your chambers were given to Aegon. Something you managed to convince your father against from at first but soon you were moved to a wing of the castle usually just for guests. You would’ve complained about longer if you hadn’t realised your new chambers window overlooked the kings guard training ground.
From your window you’d pretend to be doing needle work while secretly watching break bones fling any man that challenged him like a rag doll. Eventually Harwin caught onto your staring and would send his own glimpses up between sparring. It was also handy that your chamber was only a short walk from the guards’ sleeping quarters and Harwin soon became a frequent private guest of yours.
-
“Ser Barros is coming to court next week,” your father told you over a family dinner, “and I heard his son is looking for a wife,” he said, shooting you a hopeful glance.
“I heard he’s a fine man father,” you said kindly knowing full well it didn’t matter. Somehow every match they tried to make for you was sabotaged. The tall dark Baratheon boy was ever so keen for weeks for your hand then one day disappeared like a ghost. The gorgeous Lannister man that would bring you fine jewels suddenly decided a dornish match was of more importance. Even the Tarly boy you had courted had inexplicitly decided to join the nights watch. Every time Alicent wore the same twisted smile.
The only ones she didn’t send running were the incredibly old and decrepit looking men from minor houses, but it wasn’t hard to convince your father they weren’t suitable matches. “Perhaps we should set up a luncheon to great the boy,” Alicent suggested making your father smile widely. She really had twisted him around her finger.
-
“I wish I could stay here all day,” you pouted as you lay your head on Harwin’s bare chest.
His chuckle vibrated through you as his arm wrapped tight around your waist, “Me too princess but I have my duties and you have yours,”
“I thought your duty was to serve me,” you sighed dramatically, pretending to try get away.
Harwin laughed, his arms moving to cage you against the bed as he moved to lay over you, “I think I serve you just fine princess,” he said, his lips moving to kiss along your jaw.
“Oh yeah?” you asked and Harwin hummed in response as his kisses grew lower.
-
As expected Borros’s son went running after only a week and now you were in another awkward family dinner however unluckily for you the children all had the cold so now you were sat in stoney silence with just your father and Alicent. “You should really think about your future dear,” she said with a fake sweet smile, “We worry for you,”
Instead of replying you grabbed your wine, drinking a hefty sip of it. Viserys sighed, “Alicent is right dear. You must marry. At this point we’re going to have to start considering marrying you to a tree!” he said, flinging himself back in his chair. “Honestly what even happened between you and the boy?”
-
The days that followed were awkward to say the least. Alicent walked around smug as all hell and your father continued to sulk. You decided enough was enough and when Alicent went out to the sept you decided to track your father down. Unsurprisingly you found him staring over a model of the city.
“Father?” you greeted, walking closer to the tired looking man, “May we talk?”
“Of course, sweet child,” he said, nodding for you to sit beside him before sighing, “You know I worry for you?”
“I do father, and I do appreciate it,” you lied but did your best to look sympathetic to your clueless father, “but I was thinking. Well. I found another match you see father,” you spoke, and his head perked up as he waited for you to finally spit it out, “He’s sweet and kind and his family is well respected. You even like his father, and I was just thinking- “
“Out with-it child,”
You took a breath before finally asking, “Have you considered Harwin Strong yet father?” Viserys sighed, his eyes turning away but you continued, “Think about it! I’d be able to be at court and help Helena with her studies. Plus, you have four more children so four more matches. You already have the Velaryon which secures the crownlands. Harwin and I would secure the Riverlands. Then after you betrothed Helena, Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron you will have six of the seven kingdoms on your side. Your reach will go far especially if our children do the same,”
“You want to dilute the blood of old Valyria?” he asked, sounding exhausted as he spoke.
“No father, only strengthen it,” you said, moving to hold his hand, “Besides there is no other Targaryen or Velaryon to wed unless uncle daemon is brought back from exile- “you said but your father raised his hand to hush you.
He paused for a moment before nodding, “I will think about it. but for now, leave me. I have a lot to consider,”
“Thank you, father,”
-
Apparently Alicent must have missed this chamber meeting because somehow the news came back finally in your favour. Harwin would be your husband. You were so happy when your father told you that you instantly hugged him before rushing to find Harwin however that night at dinner Alicent shot you many dirty looks.
Finally, you had undermined her. you’d won. Well, that’s how it felt at first, but her glares began to sink into your skin till it itched. As the dinner ended, she tapped her cup with her fork, “A toast to my dear sweet daughter,” she smiled at you making your father beam, “May she have a marriage like ours,” she said, holding his hand tightly but you felt your stomach flutter.
“Here, here,” your father said, standing to kiss your cheek.
Alicent did the same, her arms twisting round your back into a bony hug, “Do not forget yourself darling,” she whispered sweetly in your ear, “You don’t win that easily,”
Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons
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neptuneiris · 7 months
Text
sparks (04/04)
But I promise you this I'll always look out for you
pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader
summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.
word count: 9.0k
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now yes, the epilogue is officially coming soon haha
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hello loves! hope you are having a wonderful day!
I made an announcement about the change in the story so if for some reason you didn't read it, don't worry, here I will explain again what happened:)
the reason why I decided to add a part 4 to the fic is very simple: the chapter was too long for the epilogue and when I say too long I mean really long. and I didn't want to bore you or fill you with too much, believe me that the epilogue was exaggeratedly long:(
I'm sorry if it wasn't what you expected, but I decided the best and I really hope you like it a lot, after all it's not the end yet😚
that's all, I won't keep you any longer, enjoy!
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Aemond Targaryen had never felt so miserable in his life.
The trip to Casterly Rock was one of the most important in his entire working career and yet it was the worst trip he had ever attended in his life.
His mind would not leave him alone and the urge to cry along with the anxiety and desperation he felt was too much. And it was so much that he couldn't control it.
But outside of that, he didn't care too much about the event, socializing and having conversations with other important businessmen, as if it wasn't something he did every day, nor did he attend to the press which was what he avoided the most nor did he care about Larys Strong and Alys Rivers.
He honestly didn't care about anything.
At least nothing outside of the important thing that was his meeting with his partner Jason Lannister and attending his conference with the board of directors.
He didn't care that this would later lead to 'serious consequences,' if you could call it that, with his grandsire.
Even after he caught up again with Jason Lannister and properly attended the conference with the board of directors, as soon as it was all over, he took his flight back to King's Landing in a needy and desperate manner.
And the first thing he did after landing was to look for you and try to talk to you. Although he must have known that you would not let him find you.
Your university is extremely large and although he tried to find you by asking the administration and coordination of your university for your varied schedule, they did not give him anything, as they cannot give out their students' personal and private information so openly to strangers.
They only do so on occasions that require it and are extremely necessary with hard evidence, such as to a family member of the student for an emergency or something like that.
And Aemond honestly didn't blame them, as he looked extremely desperate and like a madman, especially when they told him they couldn't give him that information.
So he went to your work, where he knew it would be easier to find you, but again… he was unsuccessful because you wouldn't let him.
"Uhm… I'm sorry, but she's not here."
Your coworker told him and judging by her face, he knew instantly that she was lying, especially by the pitiful face she was giving him amidst the assurance she wants to create by saying her words.
"Please, just tell her I need to talk to her," he tells her pleadingly, feeling like he will burst into tears at any second.
She lets out a long breath, as she looks away from his gaze for a moment, looking hesitant, nervous and even watching him with pity.
"I'm really sorry but… she hasn't presented for days now and I haven't really seen her."
"But I need to talk to her as soon as possible," he insists, sad and still with a hint of hope that he can fix this, "Do you know where I could find her after her classes and work?"
"I-I…" she starts to say nervously, biting her lips, then completely avoiding eye contact with him "I'm sorry but I don't know. Like I said, I haven't seen her, so I'm not aware of her plans after work."
He takes a deep breath, as he runs a hand through his hair and also over his face, feeling his heart beating too fast, losing patience, losing hope, feeling completely desperate and frustrated.
"Please," he begs, not knowing what else to do, "Please tell me. I really need to see her and talk to her. I'm worried."
Sophia, not knowing what else to say, can't help but feel uncomfortable and again averts her gaze from his.
"I'm sorry but I haven't seen her and I really don't know where she might be."
Aemond watches her for a few seconds without saying anything else even with his sad and desperate face, understanding perfectly that he wouldn't get anything from her about you.
He sees how she is more than willing to keep lying for you and even though he feels completely desperate and frustrated, he knows it's not her fault, so he decides not to push her too hard.
So he took a deep breath and tried to sound calmer.
"Okay, I understand, thank you," he says resignedly, "But if you see her, please tell her that I came looking for her and needed to talk to her," he tells her one last time, "Tell her to please consider it."
And Sophie nods with a sympathetic nod, still watching him with that pity.
"Sure, I will."
And he nods back.
"Thank you."
That time Aemond came out of the coffee shop completely disappointed, having the foolish hope that you would come out of hiding and stop him after the little show he gave to your coworker completely sad and desperate.
But of course, that didn't happen.
Upon returning to the apartment, nothing felt the same anymore. Aemond now all he feels now is a deep loneliness and sadness that eats him alive inside as he finds himself alone in that place, a place that was once home to him and you, where you both started a little life together as a couple.
With loneliness in his chest and in the middle of the apartment, he sees everything around him with his melancholic eye and face.
Everything now felt like a painful reminder of what he had lost.
The place is completely permeated with memories where every room and corner tells a story of his relationship with you.
The cushions on the couch where you used to cuddle and watch movies together, the kitchen island where you shared with each other your day to day separately and the kitchen where you made food or washed dishes together, laughing and talking about anything.
Aemond then goes to the bedroom, where he now sees your empty desk where there is no longer your laptop, your lamp and all those pens and markers with which you used to make notes for your classes, nor the various sheets and folders with which you used to do your projects and research.
So he understands why you decided to leave him, because even though it was never intentional and the least he wanted to do was hurt you, he still did.
Your vanity is also completely empty, where so many times you spent hours doing your makeup happy and energetic singing your favorite songs.
And other nights you would remove your makeup crying for him and because he never put a serious stop to his work by standing you up.
And as he looks at the bed, only the memories invade him more, beginning to feel his eye watering.
The two of you cuddling, him taking refuge in your arms after a stressful day at his job or you taking refuge in his arms after a stressful day at college. Also before bedtime, the two of you would talk about anything silly until you fell asleep, where the moment felt more intimate than anywhere else.
And Aemond loved those moments, as did you, where you both shared space on the comfort of your bed.
Aemond then wanting to return to the living room, he stops in the middle of the hallway looking at the door with a serious and at the same time pained expression, where he also remembers that day when you were here and he was at the entrance waiting for Cole, where everything happened.
But it's also where you both made love and showed that love to each other with that passion, with that affection and with that deep intimacy of just the two of you that was nothing ordinary or common.
You were just two people in love loving and enjoying each other with that complicity and that unique union that characterized them.
Letting out a huge breath, he then plops down on the couch, staring at a spot in the living room in silence, feeling completely alone and hopeless.
And he hates it.
He absolutely hates the feeling.
Just as he hates the feeling of emptiness in his heart that seems impossible to fill. Because he knows it can never be filled by anyone else. Only you.
And that's when Aemond starts to really break down, realization and acceptance slowly creeping into his mind, eating him alive, destroying him, leaving him with nothing.
Until it happens and in the midst of his silence and loneliness, he starts to cry without being able to help it anymore.
He hates everything, his job, his grandsire, the association with Alys Rivers, the press, absolutely everything and also himself, for letting you slip through his fingers and not doing anything more efficient from the beginning to avoid the breakup.
Because if he had, you would still be with him.
It's only until Aemond really feels miserable and like he can't breathe that he decides to call the only person who can get to him sooner, really not wanting to be alone, needing someone to be able to reassure him.
So he calls the one person he thinks might be able to help him and reassure him.
He would have called you, of that there is no doubt, you would be his first choice, but you have blocked him from everywhere, from every social media, calls and messages.
He would have called Hel too, but she's in Highgarden, Hells, he would have even called Aegon, but he's in Storm Ends.
"Yes, Aemond?"
Rhaenyra Targaryen answers on the other end of the call, and Aemond really can't formulate coherent sentences for every sob.
He tells her your name, that he can't find you, that you've blocked him from everywhere, he mentions his grandsire, the company, loneliness, sadness and that it all happened too fast, that he needs her and doesn't know what to do.
And soon after that Aemond says he doesn't want to be there anymore, so they both leave the apartment and with every step he takes away from the place that used to be a home for him, he feels an increasingly heavier weight than before in his heart.
Soon Rhaenyra arrives at the apartment to help her half brother, not asking him anything about what has him like this while he continues to cry and holds her hand tightly.
Rather Rhaenyra tries to reassure him by telling him that she is there for him.
It is only a matter of time before his entire family knows of his breakup with you, instantly Hel calling him, as does Aegon, Hel being the more surprised and incredulous of the two, wanting to know what has happened.
Since Aemond has no vacation and can't afford to miss work with a few extremely important and one hundred percent justifiable exceptions, he soon finds himself setting foot inside the building.
Though they both know, as does their whole family, that it was because of their grandsire and everything to do with the company, also because of Alys Rivers.
And they are not surprised when Aemond implies he had something to do with it, not saying anything else, clearly because he doesn't want to talk about it.
All his workers notice the down and serious mood of the next boss, as it is also noticeable that he doesn't want to talk to anyone and doesn't want anyone to talk to him more than necessary, so he just locks himself in his office to continue with his work.
But as soon as he starts his work day, inevitably having that hope by looking at his phone screen from time to time that you will call or text him, Eleanor calls him and warns him that he has a meeting in ten minutes with his grandsire.
This makes his mood worse, even though he knew it would only be a matter of time, but he reluctantly gets up and heads for the conference room.
And the moment Otto enters the room, clearly with his annoyed and frustrated face, the whole place fills with tension. And when Otto makes it clear to him that he is not happy at all, still Aemond maintains an emotionless and indifferent face.
"I can't believe how irresponsible you're being, truly."
Otto begins to say with incredulous surprise and a frown on his face, watching him completely annoyed.
"I asked you for one, just one thing on your trip to Casterly Rock."
"The only important thing on that trip was to attend my meeting with Jason Lannister and also the conference with the board of directors, in both of which I did perfectly well," Aemond says still completely indifferent.
"Don't you want to play dumb with me, Aemond," he warns him through his teeth, "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."
"Look, I'm not in the mood for this right now—
"And you think I am?" he inquires instantly, "You think I'm not tired of telling you the same old thing over and over again?" he says annoyed, "Wasn't I clear with you when I told you I didn't want Rivers to cause a scene for me again because of you and what's the first thing she does when she comes back from that trip?"
"For fuck's sake, you close your fucking contract with her!"
Explodes Aemond annoyed against him without being able to control himself anymore, tired and annoyed of him, but of course Otto also responds in the same way.
"No, this is your job! She wants you, not me! And now that you're finally done with Y/N, you can do something about it, something more than necessary, but you do nothing!"
Then again something inside Aemond snaps at the mention of your name and the breakup, leaving him completely silent and watching his grandsire with his parted lips.
Everything in his mind is still fresh, his emotions are still running high and that he has mentioned the breakup as a good thing so that he can finally whore himself out to Alys without any guilt and restraint, as his grandsire has asked him to do, only makes his gaze turn dark and one of complete anger towards him.
And Otto, as he is looking him straight in the eye, notices that change within him and in his gaze, but he doesn't move, doesn't flinch, and continues firm.
"So you know."
Aemond says in a low but firm tone, watching him intently and without even blinking, even with that dark and determined look, making Otto watch him silently for a moment, then swallowing hard and finally speaking.
"Of course I know. Just because I'm not home much, doesn't mean I'm not informed of what's going on with my family."
"And you're happy now?"
He inquires him really without much emotion, with an incredibly calm and soft tone of voice that surprises Otto, while now Aemond's gaze reflects the slight pain, watching him completely attentively, being strong and as much as he can in front of him, clenching his jaw.
And Otto says nothing, just watches him, which Aemond considers him a coward, as what he wanted so badly has finally happened and he says nothing.
"I bet you do," he answers her question for him, watching him bitterly.
Otto lets out a long breath.
"Look, I know you cared about her, and I feel sorry for you, but the company—
"No, that's not true, you don't feel the slightest bit sorry for me," he interrupts him with a disinterested tone, "She broke up with me because of you, but also because of me. And I'm sure when you found out, you were so pleased and had more hope that I would finally do something about Rivers and the association," he says dispassionately.
"Aemond, I'm just asking you to be professional and fulfill your obligations as heir to this company. I'm asking you because I care about you and because you can't get stuck thinking about a girl, instead of your job, your company."
"Don't mention her," he tells her instantly serious and with a threatening tone and look, "I don't want you to talk about her, ever again."
Otto lets out a long breath.
"Rivers has given us a warning and a deadline for you to convince her to sign those papers. She's already upset and unpleasant enough thanks to you," he tells him seriously, "This whole process has gone on long enough, so either you act now or we lose her forever. And we're not going to have the conversation again about why it's important to partner with her company, are we?"
Aemond looks away from him, completely pissed off and annoyed, and then gets up from the swivel chair, intending to finally get the fuck out of here.
"I'm talking to you."
Otto tells him in a higher tone of voice, watching him seriously.
"Yes and I've heard enough."
"You will do as I have told you and you will do it now," he warns him.
Aemond scowls at him, then puts on an annoyed and more threatening face than before, placing his hands on the very expensive refined wooden table then leaning towards him as well with his threatening posture.
"You're not going to order me around anymore."
"Aemond, do you really want to force me to do something I don't really want to?"
"Don't worry, I know you really do want to and I honestly don't care. But believe me it wouldn't be good for you, after all… I remind you that you're forgetting your place."
The fight and silence builds the tension further, as Otto and Aemond stare menacingly and defiantly at each other, each with their differences being more than clear, when suddenly the door to the conferences bursts open.
This breaks all the tension and also draws the attention of both of them, who look towards the door and under the doorway stands Rhaenyra, whom Otto observes slightly surprised and completely confused.
"Sorry to interrupt," she says as she places a soft smile, "I hope it's not something important."
Aemond turns his gaze back to his grandsire for a moment with his jaw clenched, who continues to stare at Rhaenyra confused and this time with a questioning look, showing his annoyance at the sight of her.
"No, we were done," Aemond makes clear, his voice in a serious and low tone, to turn his gaze back to her.
"And what are you doing here?"
Otto inquires Rhaenyra, who is not surprised by his attitude towards her, as she is used to it and doesn't really care.
"I came to speak with Aemond," she says then turns her gaze to her half-brother, "Your secretary told me you were here and I thought maybe you could talk to me, if you're not busy."
He nods in her direction.
"Sure," and she nods back, waiting for him as well.
But Aemond turns his gaze to his grandsire, who also looks back at him, confused and questioning to see that in his gaze he still intends to fight him with his threatening posture.
Again they both stare at each other, where Otto stares at him completely serious without saying anything and Aemond continues threatening, completely serious.
"If you pay someone to notify all the press and all the media anonymously of my breakup with Y/N or tell only Rivers to take advantage of me, believe me I will publicly announce and tarnish your image about how you tried to whore me out to Rivers with proof."
He threatens and Otto gasps for a moment.
"And i will tell worse, that she was also seeking an intimate relationship with me, a woman who has almost my twenty years on me."
And without saying anything else, Aemond leaves the room together with Rhaenyra without waiting and without hearing any answer back from his grandsire, for the first time in a long time having won the fight and leaving him completely speechless.
"What? You thought I didn't know?" he asks, "She doesn't say her age and she doesn't look nearly forty, but she is, so we don't want any of that, do we?"
He observes him expectantly,
"It will be a disastrous scandal. And it won't be good for her, nor for you and the company. I also know it won't be good for me, my mother, my siblings or my entire family. But I will do it if you leave me no choice and I won't give a fuck, because it will all have been your fault," he makes it clear.
At that moment he feels liberated and empowered, as he has finally left him in his place and has not done what he always ordered her to do, while he experiences a sense of relief and renewed self-confidence.
But unfortunately, that feeling doesn't last forever. Or at least it doesn't last once he's outside the company walls.
And that's because he's still thinking and longing for you.
He tried a few more times to try to find you, asking all the people he and you have in common where you might be or where you live now saying he needed to talk to you, but no one would give him an answer, making him miserable.
Even at work, he couldn't concentrate, because all the time he was thinking about you and if he could do his work, it was all thanks to Eleonor, who would notice his tired face and the bags under his eyes, as well as notice how hard he was trying.
She would see him drinking coffee more than usual and it worried her, but knowing how stubborn he is, she knew there was nothing she could do.
And once he got home, no one knew the sadness and loneliness that consumed him completely.
Even sometimes when he couldn't sleep, he kept looking at the selfie of you and him on his phone screen that he hasn't taken down, both of you smiling and more than happy, instantly feeling the pain in his chest and the tears about to run down his cheek.
It's going on a month since you decided to end the relationship but Aemond is still haunted by the moments you both shared and the 'what ifs' that haunt his mind.
Every day, the pain of the breakup seems to increase rather than decrease. At every moment of distraction, also at work or doing the most ordinary thing in life, like making a coffee, Aemond gets lost in his thoughts, remembering you.
And in every memory, he blames himself for what had gone wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have acted differently and done more for both of you, for you.
And he couldn't accept that he would simply never see you again, that it was all over, he needs you and he needs you so badly every time he starts crying and blaming himself at the same time.
He feels completely trapped in the memory of what the relationship was and feels unable to get over you, the woman who had and still means everything to him.
It is not until Rhaenyra and her mother began to notice Aemond's instability and begin to worry about him that even Helaena decides to fly to King's Landing to be there for him, reporting everything to Aegon.
And fortunately Aemond doesn't push her away when she visits him by surprise, telling him that she has come to stay with him as long as necessary.
And he hugs her tightly and cries on her shoulder, asking her not to leave him alone, to please help him recover you, that he needs you, that he understands that everything was his fault but that he deserves at least one more conversation with you.
The people Aemond cares about are there for him, even Rhaenyra, but Helaena is the one who is almost all the time with him at home and also at the company, running the Highgarden company from there, helping him heal at the same time.
Unfortunately you never responded to Helaena's messages, neither to Baela's.
So even though it hurts Helaena to see her brother like this, she knows that you are hurt too, she knows your reasons why you did what you did and she doesn't blame you for it.
But Aemond can't.
And though he doesn't know it and doesn't even think about it, you are just as or worse off than he is, trying just as hard as he is to cope with the breakup, barely being functional in your day to day life and in having enough energy, being completely broken inside.
He is still immensely in love with you and every day that goes by and he doesn't see you or hear from you, it's complete torture.
He even stopped being seen in public and stopped attending events, focusing entirely on the company and nothing else.
It's not until another full month passes that one day, when Aemond wakes up to find Helaena in the kitchen with her face completely pale, her eyes wide open and her lips parted with her phone in hand, she gives him the news that he knew would happen someday but still takes him by surprise.
His father has died.
And he knows what that means, everyone knows.
He is the successor and literally overnight, he is now the boss, officially. And with that begins the real chaos for Aemond Targaryen.
It was a moment he was looking forward to but at the same time not because of the great responsibility that would fall on him, all the great weight.
But first of all, the whole Targaryen family is busy with a funeral and taking an indefinite rest, all of them and him especially hiding from the press and everyone.
1 month later
"So…
Speaks the calculated voice of Alys Rivers with a condescending tone, looking expectantly at Otto Hightower in front of her as she slowly turns in the swivel chair she is sitting in, having her uncle Larys Strong next to her, who in comparison to her is calmer.
"He won't show up?"
She inquires as she fiddles with the pen in her hand, twirling it between her fingers with her perfectly painted dark scarlet fingernails, raising an eyebrow in Otto's direction.
"Of course he will, he knows how important this is to us," he tells her immediately, "It's just that with the death of his father, he and his siblings still need a little more time. It's been very recent still."
"We still mourn the death of Viserys Targaryen," Larys Strong says in a soft tone and Otto nods in his direction.
But Alys is not at all pleased, for months now.
"We've been waiting for almost fifteen minutes."
"Yes, I know, I'm sorry, honestly—
The door suddenly opens, interrupting Otto and drawing the attention of the three in the conference room who turn their heads and see Aemond entering the room unhurriedly and calmly.
"Sorry for the delay," he says as he approaches his place, "I was taking an important call."
Rivers instantly looks at him in a penetrating manner as she continues to fiddle with the pen in her fingers, while his grandsire watches him seriously.
"More important than this?" hisses Otto quietly through his teeth.
And still not caring, he takes a seat to adopt an equally nonchalant posture, looking even annoyed that he has to be in this room with these people, causing Rivers stress and frustration, as well as his grandsire for his attitude and lack of interest.
"Yes."
Aemond replies to him without dissimulation and without caring.
"I don't think you have understood the gravity of the matter, Mrs. Targaryen," Alys Rivers speaks, catching the attention of the three, looking directly at him, "I gave you a deadline to sign the association papers and you still haven't given me one good reason why my company should be associated with yours."
Aemond shrugs, observing her indifferently.
"That my company is the most important, innovative and efficient in the entire country is not reason enough for you?"
"That's not what I meant."
"We're talking about business and what's in the best interest of our companies, aren't we?"
Rivers clenches her jaw.
"I think you know perfectly well that a partnership requires more than that, it's also about building interpersonal relationships."
"As far as I know, you are a co-owner of Riverlands Group and the one who actually founded the company was you, Larys Strong," he observes the man, "You shouldn't decide if you want to sign these papers or not?"
Otto throws daggers at him with his eyes and an utterly deadly stare, but Aemond doesn't even notice, as well as Rivers starts to get annoyed. So before Larys Strong can speak, she speaks first.
"We both work as a team and make decisions together," she tells him instantly, wanting to make it clear.
"You seem to make all the decisions."
"Aemond—
"As far as I know, it's not in your best interest to lose this opportunity to be able to partner with my company," Rivers speaks with a firmer, more serious and determined tone, "And I've been very patient and accessible for months now."
"Also as far as I know, months ago we attended an event together and it was you who announced how proud you were to have a partnership between us in process to everyone, yet you are the one who hasn't signed the papers, so what exactly is it that you need or want from me or the company for you to sign them?"
He dares in asking with a challenging tone and look, watching her completely intently, wanting to know how bold she is, pushing her a little to say or not to say what she really wants from him.
As Otto hides in his chair and holds a hand to his face, not being able to believe this is really happening.
And Rivers looks completely serious and annoyed at Aemond, who starts to look amused by his lack of response. So the next thing he does is point to the contracts on the table in front of him, extending them to both of them.
"So… do we have a deal or not?"
He inquires, not wanting to waste any more time and wanting to get this over with once and for all, watching them expectantly.
Strong and Rivers exchange a glance, where Rivers still has his serious and annoyed look, but also has something else on his mind after fully analyzing this new Aemond now that he is he boss.
So he silently nods in his uncle's direction, making Strong extend his hand to place the papers in front of him to sign them.
But just as his fingertips touch the paper, Aemond abruptly puts them back in front of him, leaving them out of his reach, drawing the attention of all three instantly and more so of his grandsire who already feels completely relieved after so much.
But Aemond's attitude is alarming just then.
"Before you sign, I need to tell you something important."
All three of them frown, especially his grandsire.
"And it can't be after the two finally sign?" he inquires without having the patience for any more of this.
Aemond lets out a long breath, looking at his grandfather and then Rivers directly, wanting to be completely clear with his words.
"I want you to know that in another occasion I would have really appreciated having the opportunity to work with you and partner with your company, I really would," he tells her honestly, "But you never acted the right way, neither did you," he turns to his grandsire to focus back on Rivers, pausing slightly, "So I don't need this association anymore."
Surprise and disbelief completely takes over the three of them, but more so on Rivers and Otto, who exchange confused and puzzled looks.
"Aemond, what are you saying?" his grandsire inquires.
"I'm saying that I don't care and I'm not going to do what you tell me anymore nor am I going to let people like you intrude into my personal life," he then tells Rivers with determination.
Rivers looks at him completely offended.
"Me intruding in your personal life? What are you talking about?"
"I think you know perfectly well what i'm talking about, so since you have nothing more to do here, I'm sorry for wasting too much of your time, but you can go now."
His grandsire looks at him in complete surprise and disbelief.
"Aemond—
"If you think I'm going to sit here and allow this treatment of me by you, you are very wrong, I will not tolerate it for another second," Rivers says, getting up from her chair, annoyed and offended, "You need me but this is your loss. Let's see how long it takes before your company goes bankrupt and you lose everything."
Aemond lets out a bitter laugh.
"No, in fact I don't need you," he makes it clear, amused, "And if I needed you, believe me I wouldn't have partnered with you even as my last option," he tells him decisively, "Do you think you're the only company that has partnerships with Essos? Not only you, but also Rodrik Greyjoy, the owner of the Pike company in the Iron Islands, my new partner".
He says and Otto Hightower looks on in complete surprise, not expecting that at all. And this only causes more anger and indignation in Alys Rivers.
"You're going to regret this," Rivers tells him humiliated and annoyed as she grabs her purse and then heads for the exit with big strides, "And my company is never going to be associated with yours, ever!"
"Have a nice day."
Aemond tells her not forgetting his manners and the doors slam shut with a loud slam that still doesn't completely flinch, then looks at his grandfather who looks like he's going to explode at any moment.
"You can leave too," he tells her nonchalantly, rising from his seat, "I've had enough of this shit. I expect your resignation by tomorrow at the latest."
"My resignation?" he repeats, completely bewildered and surprised.
"Yes, your resignation," he affirms him" "Rhaenyra will now take your place while Daemon is left running Dragonstone."
"W-what…? Aemond, you can't do this! I helped you, I supported you, I broke my back for you, I made you what you are now and I put you where you are!"
"Actually yes I can and in fact I already have," he says dispassionately, heading for the exit, "I'm the boss now."
And even hearing their protests and shouts, he leaves the room with him following, causing a huge scene, but once he makes his way to his office, he slams the door in his face and asks Cole to take him out of here immediately and he instantly complies with his order.
And when Aemond sits in his chair, he lets out a long sigh and closes his eye as he drops his head completely on the backrest, no longer feeling that weight on his shoulders and that tension he felt every day all over his body, finally feeling free, relieved and at peace.
It honestly feels good, after so long.
And he sees the positives of him finally being the boss, as he can now do these kinds of things, things he couldn't do before and finally give him that needed balance to his life and work.
But as soon as he leaves his work space and gets home, he again feels that emptiness in his chest and that sadness, not feeling full and like him, knowing full well that you are missing for his life to finally be perfect.
He wishes he could have done all this with you by his side. He still wants to fix everything between him and you, but you being off his radar, it's just impossible.
And he still loves you too much to use money to try to find out where you are, knowing he couldn't do that to you, the woman he still loves with every fiber of his body and heart.
He still misses you, very much. He wants to have one more reason to be this new person he has become, a better person really.
But he respects your decision, even though he still thinks he deserved more.
That same day he sends a message to Helaena asking her when she will come to King's Landing and if she wants to stay with him at his house and that same day at night he receives a message from Floris Baratheon, a friend he and you have in common, finally things being in his favor.
The moment he so deserved arrives when Floris invites him to a pub in the center of the city to celebrate his birthday. And since he knows you and Floris are close friends, he knows you'll be there.
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You thank the driver for dropping you off at your destination after paying him, then you get out of the car, close the door and head towards the entrance of the pub that Floris has chosen to celebrate his birthday.
Today you don't know what's wrong with you, as you suddenly have a very positive mood and attitude that hasn't been seen in you for months, clearly since what happened that day.
But today you have all the willingness to have fun, celebrate with Floris, have a couple of drinks and see what else the night takes you to, you really need it.
So you open the door of the pub to enter, instantly ringing that typical bell that announces a new customer, which draws the attention of some people already inside the place, but you focus on finding Floris and his friends at all the scattered tables.
"Y/N!"
Suddenly someone shouts your name and you turn your head, seeing that it's Floris, calling you from the table they are at and you start to smile, about to head towards all of them, when suddenly, your gaze crosses with a blue eye that you know all too well among all the people at the table.
A blue eye you haven't seen for months.
And your whole world around you fades away.
You freeze completely and a shiver runs down your entire back as you stare at him in shock, attentively and with your lips parted, definitely not expecting to see him, at all.
Your heart starts pounding, your legs turn to jelly and your throat goes dry. You don't know what to do, let alone what to say, you just can't speak or react, nothing.
You don't feel any more that mood of before, that disposition and that attitude, you simply feel like a little girl who wants to hide behind her mother's legs.
The memories of the relationship, the happy moments, the painful moments, everything you went through together comes back to you in an instant. Just as you remember that day, when it all ended, feeling sick to your stomach, suddenly no longer feeling strength in your whole body.
You feel completely trapped in a sea of emotions flooding your mind. The feelings that you had tried to suppress for months, now overwhelm you.
But not only does your whole history with him come back to you, you are also affected by seeing him again physically after so many months because you had not even seen him through a photo on the social media after the breakup.
And to see him now after the passing of his father and that he is now the owner of the most important company in the country, is just more of a surprise for you.
You try not to let the surprise be so noticeable on your face, although you probably already failed at it, seeing now his gorgeous short platinum hair, giving him a completely different air and look, although not in a bad way.
So you assume that those are the reasons why now he has changed. You can't say the same for yourself as he has really changed, physically.
You had never imagined an Aemond with his hair cut short, you never thought about it and now seeing it… it makes you feel a sensation all over your body that you really can't explain.
He looks more… mature and like… an expert in business, which is what he really is. He looks even younger for his age, also more handsome. He looks like a big businessman.
Unable to help yourself, you still can't move, just standing there, clearly affected after seeing your ex-boyfriend again, who Floris immediately jumps to your rescue, while at the same time you see how Aemond says something under his breath to Liam, a friend of his and also yours, to then get up and head towards the bathroom without looking any further in your direction.
You follow him with your gaze, swallowing hard and starting to tremble, while Floris stops in front of you with a small reassuring smile.
"Hey, I'm so happy you came."
She hugs you and you let her, as you really need it and she knows you need it too.
"Easy," she murmurs comfortingly in your ear, "You've got this, take a deep breath."
You blink, as if to clear your thoughts that way, then drop your head defeatedly on her shoulder, inhaling deeply, as she has told you to.
"I'm sorry," she tells you with some pity, feeling your body tense, "The guys mentioned it to him but he said I still wouldn't tell him anything, so in order not to make him feel bad, I decided to invite him too," she tells you sadly.
"No, no, it's okay."
You tell her instantly, turning away to watch her, seeing Floris as your eyes are full of emotions and with effort, you try to nod and understand her, although you really do, since after all, Floris is not only your friend, she is also his friend and you can't blame her, you would never do that.
"I-I… I… I know, I just… I didn't expect it," you confess, trying to compose yourself.
At least he's out of your sight now and that helps a little but still, you know he'll be back soon.
Floris takes your hands gently, offering you his physical support that she hoped would be enough for you in comforting you.
"I know it's all still very fresh in your mind, so if you need to leave, that's fine with me, I'll understand perfectly, don't worry."
"No, no, I mean, yes, it all still feels very fresh but…" you let out a long breath, "Sooner or later it was bound to happen, you know? And it's your birthday!" you exclaim out of nerves, "I-I can't just leave, I-I…" you bite your lips, "Happy birthday, by the way."
Floris smiles.
"Thank you bestie."
You smile back as best you can, still feeling your mind working at full speed, your body feels it more tense than usual and you unconsciously keep on the lookout for him, because he might come back at any second.
You give her the gift you bought for her, then she gives a few words of motivation and finally she leads you with almost everyone to the table.
You greet old friends and also meet other friends of Floris, trying to look calm and relaxed at all times, when in reality, inside you are a bundle of nerves and not calm at all, not at all.
You can see that all your friends… and Aemond's friends too, know that he and you are no longer together, which causes you some discomfort, but for Floris, you decide to face it, him too.
"At any point in the evening you can leave if you need to, really," she reassures you again before you take a seat and you nod in her direction, understanding.
Meanwhile Aemond in the bathroom leans fully into the sink as he breathes through his mouth and closes his eye for a moment, trying to calm himself, letting a sigh escape his lips.
He honestly doesn't understand what has happened to him.
He thought he could, that this is all he's ever wanted so he could have you back with him, but… when he barely laid his eye on you the moment you walked into the place with five meters in front of him, he felt like he was going back to the past.
For all these months, even yesterday, I was waiting for this moment. He was waiting to see you again, to try to talk to you, to try to get you back and now?
He just felt like a scared little boy.
His heart broke into pieces again as he remembered that day, when you decided to break up with him.
And how he felt at that moment, besides the weeks after when he tried to look for you and you wouldn't let him and blocked him from everywhere, he relived it again, feeling every emotion, remembering every tear he shed and all the other pressures he had on him because of his grandsire.
Not to mention the death of his father and his promotion in the company, all in a matter of days, making everything worse.
And although everything is totally different now, he still recognizes that he did not prepare for this moment.
Everything still hurts him, he no longer feels capable, he feels that you will break his heart again, although no more than he broke yours, where he did nothing about it, he only asked for forgiveness, as if that was enough.
Aemond looks at his reflection and tells himself that he must keep calm, keep his posture and not make this any more uncomfortable than it already will be.
But at all times he has this longing in his heart to be able to get you back.
While you now find yourself sitting, having a place at the big table, basically at the other end, away from where he is sitting, trying to calm yourself down from now on, although it is costing you a lot.
And not a moment too soon, Floris places a beer in your hand, murmuring in your ear that your mind needs to stop thinking and worrying too much.
And just as you take a sip, Aemond returns.
You try not to look at him too much, just the same way he tries not to look at you too much as he takes a seat next to Liam again, but unconsciously it's impossible.
The table by the others is full of laughter, while the pub is full of music, with a party atmosphere that really contrasts with your whirlwind of emotions and also with his.
Even though you don't want to, yet when he doesn't notice, you watch him. And this frustrates you. You want to enjoy Floris' birthday, but you can't help the tension you emanate along with him even though they are extreme to extreme.
Every time his gaze meets yours, you avert yours to the other side, nervous and alert, telling yourself that you can't let this disturb you for the entire time you'll be here.
"We're just here to celebrate Floris."
You repeat to yourself in your mind constantly.
On the other side, Aemond's mind doesn't stop spinning. Every time his eye meets yours, he feels a knot in his stomach and in order not to feel too much, he takes a sip of his beer as well and tries to appear unconcerned.
You both feel completely vulnerable, you don't want to make the atmosphere more tense and uncomfortable, so you make an effort to think about Floris and his friends.
You try to distract yourself by talking to other friends, talking to Floris and observing the whole place, but Aemond is always on your mind.
And even though you shouldn't, you ask yourself inevitable questions, unable to control it.
How is he doing?
How is he coping with the fact that he is now the boss?
Did he suffer a lot because of his father's death?
Must he hate me for ending things with him like that?
Did the association with Alys Rivers' company happen?
You let out a long breath, hating your mind at that moment, but you also inevitably begin to answer those questions with assumptions.
You assume he must be fine, since he's here, which surprises you since he didn't have time for almost anything before, so his new position at the company must give him a little more free time, although you don't really know.
You think about whether he must hate you for breaking his heart in such a cruel way, taking advantage of the fact that he had to leave to get on his plane and you guess he must still be seeing Rivers, even the breakup probably made things easier.
You bite the inside of your cheek and scold yourself, since you don't really know anything and take a long swig from your beer bottle, having had enough of you.
Aemond, on his own, in his mind was trying to find a reason or a good excuse to approach you, but he couldn't find the right moment. He wished the words would flow naturally, but every time he imagined a conversation, he felt blocked and unable to utter a word.
As the night progresses, the tension between the two persists, but fortunately it also becomes a little more bearable.
Although you have not spoken and have only exchanged glances, you had taken an important step in facing the past in that same place. But although the purpose was to have fun, neither he nor you did, it was impossible and you just sat in your places for Floris, nothing else.
Luckily everyone else didn't feel uncomfortable or tense because of you two, as little by little the table fills up with more drinks, the guys and he also smoke, the music helps and most of them are getting drunk, except him and you.
Until the hours go by, it's a little past midnight and already some people are starting to leave, Floris' night of celebration slowly coming to an end.
When only Floris, Liam, Sarah, Jenna, him and you are left, therefore, Floris considers the night over. And that's your cue to leave, so you say goodbye to her and everyone except him, taking the opportunity to leave the pub as you see him busy asking for a cigarette.
As you leave the pub, you lean against the wall with your phone in hand and the Uber app on the screen, waiting for a driver to accept your ride, but it keeps asking you to wait every long minute, making you feel desperate and worried.
You know it's only a matter of time before they and he come out and see you here and that's what you don't want.
But luck in that regard is not in your favor.
After continuing to wait for five more long minutes, you grunt under your breath in frustration as the application doesn't tell you anything, besides it's too much to ask for but you don't blame that either as you recognize that your dorm is far from here and you also take the time into consideration.
When then, Floris and all of them leave the pub, instantly her and also him noticing you.
Floris instantly turns to you and you give her a tired and distressed look.
"What's wrong?" she asks you in a low voice.
You bite your lips as you stare at your phone in frustration and answer her in a low voice as well.
"No driver accepts my ride. I don't know what to do."
"Well, Aemond has offered to drive us," she tells you with some caution and even in a low voice, "I'm sure he'll have no problem driving you too."
And here's just what you didn't want.
"No, I-I…" you let out a long breath, "Maybe I should try another app or walk a little further."
"Have you lost your mind?" she reproaches you in a whisper.
"I'm not going to ask him to drive me too," you clarify, frustrated and sad, "I've had enough."
"Come on, Y/N. I'll ask him."
Aemond, actually hears everything from a distance and realizes the situation, so he notices how Floris watches him and also how you try to watch him from the corner of your eye, noticing how you move your fingers across the screen of your phone in a desperate way.
And just then Liam speaks in his direction.
"I don't think we're all going to fit," he tells him as he points to his car.
He lets out a long breath as he pulls his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the doors.
"Get in, everyone."
He says in his voice loud enough for everyone and especially you to hear, without even looking at you, he also says it with a nonchalant tone, then starts across the street, heading to his car, which is big and spacious enough for everyone.
He listens as you and Floris speak again, but it's not so audible to him anymore, with the others following him to the car as well.
Tonight hasn't been the best, neither was the way you both ended it, but he still cares about you and your well-being, as there was no way he was going to leave you here alone, at almost two in the morning.
And when he gets in the car, he thought he would have to stand still, waiting for you, to the point of having to tell you himself that he will drop you off at home, but in the end he sees you following Floris with a look that he can't really describe.
Liam gets in as co-pilot and all the girls settle in the back seats, you too.
And pretty soon he's driving through the city, watching you in the rearview mirror from time to time, unable to help himself, while you watch him too when he doesn't notice, biting the inside of your cheek and feeling completely nervous.
And you don't know if it was intentional, but it really wasn't, Aemond just started asking for directions and those who had their houses closest to them spoke, leaving Sarah first, then Floris, Liam and at the end there's Jenna and you.
"My dorm is in Walden Residence, it's on the first block of the university," she indicates to Aemond and then she looks at you, "You live in a dorm too?"
You nod, feeling unable to speak.
"In which residence?"
You swallow hard, as you lick your lips.
"Westbridge."
"Oh! Then you'll drop me off first, her dorm is further in the back," she says to Aemond, who starts the car again.
Oh fuck.
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scarletttries · 3 months
Text
Roronoa Zoro Falling In Love Headcanons (One Piece)
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro (Live Action One Piece) x Reader
Rating: Fluff
Word Count: 1.6k
Author's Note: After lacking a bit of inspiration recently I just finished watching the live action One PIece on Netflix and am completely obsessed, especially with Zoro! So here a few little headcanons for him, and I might do a part two of relationship headcanons too. Also requests are now open for any of the one piece characters so send them in! 💗☺️
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- Oh Zoro. Truly the epitome of a heart of gold hiding behind a sarcastic, borderline cold, facade. A man who pretends to be affected by nothing, despite having so much space inside him for friendship and devotion.
- Chances are he'd first come across you when he and Luffy are docked in another new town. Maybe you're a pirate whose name he's heard in passing and considers trying to capture for the bounty. Maybe you're someone who just loves and helps out the small seaside village you live in, trying to make a few Berry from the ships passing through. Maybe you're the next key step to reaching Monkey's dream of finding the piece. Whatever he expects to find when your paths cross, it certainly isn't you.
- Before he even knows you're the person he's looking for, one look at you and he knows you're important. Like you exist in a slightly brighter light than everyone else he's ever met before, and he's not sure if he should shield his eyes or if he can't bear to look away. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you, the first glimpse enough to have his heart pounding in his chest like it never has before. Luffy watches his usually stern friend let his mouth fall open in silence, baffled by his actions until Nami leans over and whispers to him. Zoro can't hear exactly what she says but he hears the word 'crush' and feels his stomach churn at the thought. He wants to run, but he's unsure whether he wants to go towards or away from you. He grips his white katana as a panicked instinct when finally you glance up and send a friendly smile to the eclectic group of pirates standing, staring at you.
- Luffy can tell before you ever say a word that you're good and kind, and destined to be aboard the Merry as a part of his crew. Zoro can't bring himself to do anything but loom over his captain as he makes a sales pitch. The part of his brain that likes to be in control hopes that you're busy and tied down, that you'll reject Luffy's offer and he'll never feel as shaken and desperate as he does in this moment again. A much bigger part of him knows that he won't survive if you say 'no'. Like without you he might never dream again, doomed to spend the rest of his days sailing aimlessly, searching for the same rush he feels every time you look up at him over his friends straw hat. Thankfully Monkey rarely asks someone to join his crew that he isn't certain will eventually say yes. And so you do, accepting it's time to try a new path and join this strange group of good-hearted sailors, hoping for a new shot at your dreams.
- Monkey, Sanji and Usopp are all friendly from the get-go. They can't wait to share stories of their journey so far, and make sure you feel as safe and at home on the ship as they do. Nami takes a bit longer to open up to you, but when she does you can understand why, and while her friendship is harder to earn, it feels all the more solid for it. And then there's Zoro.
- You notice that whenever you all walk into a room, he'll always take the position or chair next to you, awkwardly stepping in front of Sanji on more than one occasion, or forcing himself into a tight spot rather than create distance between the two of you. He doesn't often strike up conversation first, but when you ask him something about himself he always looks very relieved and happy to have something to talk to you about. If the group has to split up he'll always stick by your side, taking the role of keeping you safe to heart. Your unspoken bodyguard. It gets to the point that the crew adjust to leaving a spot next to you for him to settle into, and never asking him to go out without you. All the while Nami takes great joy in speculating on his behaviour with you, and teasing Zoro for his complete inability to act like a normal human being. Sanji has to lay off his harmless flirting with you after he notices the daggers Zoro's shooting at him, and he's sure one night at a bar he heard him start to draw his sword when he put a hand on your leg.
- It doesn't take many conversations with Zoro, or many chats with Luffy who spends a lot of his time telling you about how wonderful and impressive Zoro is, for you to start finding his strange behavior more than a little flattering. The tall, talented swordsman can't help but soften under your gaze, and you feel yourself slowly leaning closer to him every time he settles at your side, before long finding yourself practically draped against him when the group find themselves at some gaudy bar on the outskirts of a marine base, failing to keep a low profile. Usopp insists on dragging you onto the dancefloor, and thankfully Nami asks Zoro to come dance with her before he has to either sit without you, or volunteer to dance of his own volition. Despite his athleticism, of course he's a terrible dancer, all uncoordinated movements and awkward energy as he fails to copy Usopp's charismatic moves. Taking pity on him, you take his hand in yours, letting him hold you closer as the rest of the group seem to fade in the crowd behind you having seen more than enough of his desperate longing to stick around for this. As Sanji and Usopp slink off to find another drink, Nami and Luffy can't resist keeping just in view so they can watch on as they finally see Zoro smile widely and let his guard down, relaxing against you as the pair of you sway. Nami wants to make a bet on if Zoro finally gets the nerve to say something about his feelings, but after a few months of being her closest friend she decides to just root for you both instead, trying to pull Luffy just far enough away to give you two some much needed privacy.
- As you feel his arms encircle you, a soft sway in his hips that matches yours, his mouth drops open and closed a few times over. It's always hard for him to find the right thing to say to you, but when he has you this close, with your eyes sparkling up at him, it's almost impossible to even think. It's all consuming living on the same ship, his heart jumping in his chest every time someone enters his cabin in case it's you, his feet taking him to stand outside your quarters almost every day just willing himself to knock on the door and finally put words to his devoted actions. He couldn't fight his longing to be near you for even a day, and watching you open up to him and start to inch closer yourself, he can't help but hope that you might be feeling just a drop of the ocean of affection he navigates for you. His eyes focus intensely on yours as he tries again to speak, stumbling over the word 'I' a few times before resigning himself to silence for another night.
- You could see the conflict of fear and hope in his eyes, the man of few words clearly straining to explain things his training had never left room for. He was trying, and you were sure you knew what he was going to say, but you didn't think you could be the one to articulate it for him. That didn't mean you couldn't give him a bit of encouragement.
- Trailing your hands over his arms to settle on his shoulders, you stepped flush with his body, the extra contact enough to stop his gentle sway and turn his whole frame rigid. With the softest smile you could muster you leaned up onto your tiptoes, giving him a moment to pull away before letting your lips press softly to his. It was just for a second. A mere moment of soft, sweet, contact. The kind Zoro had never even let himself imagine because it felt so far out of reach for him. But it happened, and it was perfect. A wide grin spread over his face at your action, finally feeling like he might be able to share his life with someone other than the ghost he carried with him on his hip.
"WAHHOOOOOO!YES YES YES!"" A deafening cheer echoed through the bar, shaking the light fixtures and turning every single head towards your ecstatic captain. Nami looked mortified as Luffy continued to punch the air in celebration of his first mate finally achieving a dream a little less violent than he'd first set out for, his joy for his friend all consuming and without an ounce of tact.
"Luffy! Stop it! We'll leave you to it." Nami had to physically drag him away as you heard the unfamiliar sound of Zoro laughing to himself, the grin across his cheeks only spreading as his focus returned to you. Leaning back in to find your lips again, he whispered,
"What Luffy said."
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The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.
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Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.
Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience
Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog
A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!
As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.
Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread
Word Count: 3.5k
~
Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.
“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”
“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”
“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”
“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”
“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”
She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”
“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”
“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”
Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.
-
“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.
“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”
“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”
With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.
“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.
“What was that, hun?”
“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.
“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.
“God, yes.“
-
You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.
It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.
JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.
He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.
Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.
Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.
-
“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”
You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”
“Will do.”
She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.
“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.
“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.
“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”
“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.
“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”
“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”
You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”
“That’s it? Damn.”
“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.
“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”
“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.
As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.
JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”
“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.
-
You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.
Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.
You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.
You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.
“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”
“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”
“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”
He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.
“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.
“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.
“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.
“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”
You don’t answer.
“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.
You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.
“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.
“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”
“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”
“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”
JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”
“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.
“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.
‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.
“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”
JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.
“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.
You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”
“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.
“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”
The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.
“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”
“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”
“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”
JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.
“I love you, too. Always.”
With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.
-
You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.
If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.
The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.
Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”
You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.
Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”
“No. But I have to be.”
It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.
You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.
You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.
Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.
“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”
Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.
“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.
“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”
JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you, talk to you.”
You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”
“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”
“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”
“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.
You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”
“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.
“JJ…”
“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”
“I don’t want a life like this.”
“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”
You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”
“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”
You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.
“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.
“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”
You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.
You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.
Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue
Y/N Y/L/N
You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.
“Ready to get off this island?”
You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”
-
JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.
You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.
Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.
She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”
JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.
“Daddy!”
“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.
“The princess and the pogue!”
JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.
“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.
“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”
“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.
You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.
“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.
“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”
You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”
~
Writing Masterlist
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system-to-the-madness · 2 months
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Cherry Blossom Confessions 🌸 Okkotsu Yūta x Reader
Pairing: Okkotsu Yūta x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1 423 Summary: Yūta spills a well-kept secret Prompt: accidental confession A/N: Firs time writing for Yūta! Also, I wanted to post these stories in time with the local cherry blossom, but it keeps delaying because the weather was too cold (on Wednesday it snowed even). I’m just gonna start posting and hope the cherry blossom will eventually catch up with me.
Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist
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Pink petals drifted through the air, looking like snowflakes in the warm afternoon light. It was only late March, but the sun had already gained back a lot of its power after the colder winter months, making you smile contently to yourself as you closed your eyes and held your face into the sun, trying not to let yourself be distracted by the person at your side.
Yūta was, for once, out of his school uniform, and instead dressed in an oversized shirt and some wide jeans which made his slim figure seem to drown in fabric. But it looked good, unfairly good even. You could tell he was fiddling around with his necklace, even without looking at him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he seemed nervous.
“What’s wrong,” you asked eventually, unable to take his fidgeting any longer.
You had known him for a good while, and his behaviour now was more like he had been when you had first met him. Back then he had been jumpy and shy, always expecting the worst of people. But as he had settled more into the life at Jujutsu High, the shy and easily scared boy had turned into the open-hearted, funny, and fiercely loyal friend you had gotten so attached to.
“Nothing,” Yūta’s answer came almost too quickly, making you raise your brows before you blinked open your eyes and turned to look at him.
He had cut his hair a little since winter, the formerly long strands having been trimmed into a new haircut, which made him look gentler than the rather harsh look he had been sporting before. His grey eyes met yours defiantly, as if he was challenging you to question his reply, but you didn’t do him the favour. Instead, you continued watching his face.
Recently he had started getting cute freckles over his nose that now started to turn a darker shade as he blushed under your inquisitive gaze. You wondered if he could tell your own cheeks were heating up, too.
“Anyway,” you shrugged, tearing your gaze away from him and focusing back on the pink petals of the cherry trees you were sitting under.
Silence engulfed you for a while, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was the good or the bad kind. You also didn’t know what you were supposed to say. Which was weird, considering you never had any problems of engaging in conversation with Yūta. You always found things to talk about, to joke about, even if it was only Gojo-sensei’s latest shenanigans.  But somehow it suddenly felt as if this silence was important, as if it were the preparation for whatever was to come next. What a strange sentiment…
“You’re beautiful.”
Confused you turned to Yūta, who was still watching you, his eyes widening as you met his surprised. He had never said anything like that before, usually his compliments were limited to your fighting in training or during missions.
Quickly you looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.
“Uhm, thanks…” you trailed off. Certainly he had to pick up on your embarrassment now, right? Your warm cheeks, the way you subconsciously had started playing with a blade of grass underneath your hand… you quickly pulled your hand away and intertwined it with the fingers of your other hand to stop the motion.
“Did I say that out loud,” Yūta wondered, a hint of amusement, but also embarrassment in his voice.
“Yeah, …”
He chuckled, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. He had averted his eyes, and instead was staring up at the branches over you as he was chewing on his lip, clearly thinking hard about something. Suddenly he snapped his head back at you, almost startling you with the sudden motion, but it was obvious he had come to the conclusion of whatever he had thought over.
“I don’t tell you enough. Actually, I think I’ve never told you, but I always think you’re beautiful,” he confessed, his voice lacking any of the embarrassment from before and instead sounding determined now.
“Careful,” you chuckled nervously, “what will Rika think?”
Rika. Probably the biggest reason why you had never dared thinking of Yūta as anything other than a friend. You didn’t exactly feel like getting into a fight with a special grade curse over your classmate.
“Oh, she knows I think you’re beautiful,” Yūta shrugged, his voice returning to the more relaxed tone you usually knew from him.
“Does she?
“Yes, of course she does. I talk to her about you all the time.”
You furrowed your brows and turned back to look at Yūta. He had leant back, hands propped behind him against the grass, eyes closed. Black lashes rested against his pale, lightly freckled skin, and shadows of the cherry blossom danced softly over his features. He looked like an angel, you thought, or like the protagonist in some rom-com.
“You talk to her about me?” You hated how small your voice suddenly sounded.
“It’s not so strange, is it,” Yūta asked, his eyes still closed as he let the shadows slip over his face. “I have to talk to someone who won’t judge me. And Inumaki just keeps insisting I should finally confess to you. I can’t hear it anymore.”
You blinked, once, twice, wondering if Yūta was aware of what he had just said. And then you wondered if what he had just said meant what you think it meant.
“Confess what?”
The way Yūta tensed up revealed that he had not been aware of what he had just said. His eyes snapped open and quickly he sat up.
“I-”
The way he looked at you now, with widened eyes, and clearly insecure reminded you painfully much of the way he had looked at you in the first weeks of knowing you, always scared he had or was about to say something wrong, always worried you’d laugh at him, attack him, make fun of him or were out to hurt him.
“I- I didn’t…” His eyes kept skipping over your face as if the words he was supposed to reply with were writing in your features. After a few moments of stuttering around, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Confess that I like you,” he blurted out. “And have liked you for a long time. I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want to put you in the weird position of rejecting someone who-”
“Yūta, Yūta!”
You interrupted the ramble he was picking up, instinctively bringing your hand up to his cheek. He still had his eyes closed, but instantly relaxed into your palm.
“Relax, it’s okay,” you assured him. “I like you, too.”
It took him a moment, but then the rest of the tension in his body fell away, and he blinked his eyes open.
“You do?”
The hope in his voice tucked at your heart and you nodded with a gentle smile.
“Yes, I do, you idiot. How couldn’t I?”
Yūta blinked at you, clearly surprised by your answer and uncertain what to do next. It took a few moments before the confused expression in his eyes melted away and was replaced by the joyous glimmer you loved seeing in his eyes so much.
“Then go out with me,” he demanded, a smile beginning to tuck at his lips, which turned into a proper grin as you nodded in agreement.
You were about to pull your hand away from his face, but he caught it in his, and keeping your eyes fixed on yours, he lifted your hand to his lips to place a delicate but lingering kiss on your knuckles, never breaking eye contact. The action drove heat into your cheeks, which only seemed to raise his confidence as he carefully lowered your hand and scooted closer to you.
“How about,” he leant in, his face right in front of yours now, “how about I take you out for dinner after this.”
You smiled at his suggestion and nodded. “I’d love that.”
“Perfect,” Yūta nodded to himself.
Then he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gently pulled you backwards until you were laying in the grass, squeezed against him, looking up at the blue sky above you through the pink petals of the cherry tree. Suddenly he groaned, making you raise your eyebrows at him again even though you knew he couldn’t see it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Inumaki will be so pissed that he didn’t get to come up the ultimate confession-plan.”
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@delzinrowe
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scoonsalicious · 1 month
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Unwanted: Chapter 12, Unlucky - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of injury, descriptions of violence, 2nd hand embarrassment, Jade Carthage.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: You were out for a celebratory dinner with Bucky, Tony, and Pepper, where the conversation got a little loaded, but it was all good, until Tony got a phone call from Bruce, informing him that members of your team had returned from their mission, and one of them was seriously injured.
A/N: I don't even know what to say for these next few parts. Just get ready, I guess?
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1
The four of you rushed into the med bay, looking completely out of place in your formal dinner clothes. Tony immediately began shouting for Banner, desperate to know what had happened to his best friend, and you were worried sick. For as long as you’d known Tony, Rhodey had been a part of your life, too. You gasped and put a hand to your mouth when you eventually turned a corner and found your team gathered around Rhodey’s lifeless form hooked up to Dr. Cho’s Cradle. He was lying so still inside you were afraid for a moment that he was dead, but the steady beeping of the machines let you know that, for now, at least, he was still alive. You felt Bucky take a quick inhale as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into him.
“Someone tell me what the fuck happened, right now!” Tony bellowed. He’d lost his tie somewhere between the restaurant and the Tower, and with the amount of tugging he’d done at his hair and the look of utter despair on his face, he looked like he was coming completely undone. Pepper was rubbing circles on his back, doing her best to calm him down before he gave himself a heart attack.
“He’s stable,” Bruce said, stepping forward to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “That’s the important thing.” Tony let out a barely audible sigh as Bruce continued. “He took a couple of bullets– one punctured a lung and one hit a major artery. He’s lost a lot of blood, and there may end up being some brain damage. But if Sam hadn’t gotten him into the Quinjet’s on-board Cradle in time, well…” he shrugged, leaving the ominous conclusion unsaid.
Tony took three long strides over to where Sam stood, Falcon suit completely covered in Rhodey’s blood, and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Sam’s eyes widened in shock as he slowly reached his arms up to return the hug, awkwardly patting Tony on the back.
“Thank you,” said Tony, taking a step back. “What happened?”
Sam cast a glance to the corner of the room, where you now noticed Jade Carthage, tac-suit pristine– not an ounce of blood on her– with her arms wrapped around herself, as though trying to take up as little space as possible. 
“Wilson.” Tony’s voice was threatening.
“We spent the last two weeks getting Hydra intel, like we were supposed to do,” Sam said. “We knew it was a fact-finding mission, only. We weren’t looking for a fight, I swear.” He cast an angry glance at Jade. “Last night, Carthage said she got word about an abandoned Hydra base. No agents left, but maybe a goldmine for intel. She wanted to check it out. Rhodey and I tried to convince her that we should follow our orders, call home for back up so we wouldn’t be met with any surprises we’d be outnumbered for, but she insisted it was safe, her intel was good.”
Sam took a deep breath. “She… she took off on her own. We weren’t just gonna let a teammate go in solo, super soldier or not, so we followed her. It was… it was a fucking ambush, man. Was like they knew we were comin’. The place was crawlin’ with Hydra agents, like a goddamn ant hill. They started firing, and before Rhodey could activate his suit, he took two hits. I screamed for Carthage to cover me and was able to get my wings up– deflect any more bullets from hitting us, and I picked him up and dragged him to the jet. Got him into the Cradle just as she was runnin’ up the plank, and we got outta there as fast as we could and headed straight home. I’m so sorry, Tony.”
Tony shook his head and patted Sam on the shoulder. “Don’t be sorry, Birdbrain. If not for you, Rhodey wouldn’t have made it.” He turned and took a few steps toward Jade, eyes narrowed. “Carthage, on the other hand, what the hell were you thinking?!”
Jade dropped her arms from where she held them across her chest. “It’s not my fault,” she said, holding her chin out defiantly. “I got bad intel; it was just unlucky.”
“Unlucky?” Tony asked, shocked. “Unlucky?!” He was shouting now. “Your recklessness could have gotten your entire team killed and you chalk that up to a lack of fucking luck?”
“Stark,” Bucky warned from beside you.
“Bucky, don’t,” you pleaded softly, desperately. 
“You can’t seriously be blaming me for this!” Jade argued. “I was trying to neutralize a threat. Isn’t that what we Avengers are supposed to do? How is it my fault Rhodes wasn’t prepared for battle? Huh? How is it my responsibility to make sure he had his armor ready before going into potentially hostile territory. Sounds to me like your friend’s the one who was reckless and you’re just looking to find anyone else to blame.”
The group collectively gasped. “Jade,” Steve began in his Captain America voice, “perhaps this isn’t—”
“You weren’t even supposed to be there!” Tony screamed at her. Jade flinched inward on herself, and you had to put a  hand on Bucky’s arm to keep him from going to her. “You disobeyed direct orders and jeopardized your mission. You followed up on intel that you hadn’t verified, you needlessly risked the lives of yourself and your team, and you can’t even take responsibility for your actions! You’re fucking benched, Carthage! You’re a liability in the field and I won’t have you putting any more of my people in harm’s way because you’re too fucking stupid to do your damned job!”
“That’s enough, Stark!” Bucky broke free of your grasp and moved to stand between Jade and Tony as Jade quietly began to sob. “I get that you’re upset about Rhodey– we all are, but you’re outta line. Yeah, she fucked up, but that’s no excuse to attack her like this in front of everyone.”
Tony scoffed at Bucky’s words. “Get her out of my sight. Before I do something I’ll really regret.”
Bucky put an arm around Jade’s shoulder and began to lead the sobbing girl out of the med bay.
“Oh, and Barnes?” Tony called out before they could make it to the door. Bucky stopped and turned to face him. “Wanna remind us all again who your actual girlfriend is? Cause it sure as hell seems like you’ve forgotten.”
Bucky blanched as he turned to look at you, but you couldn’t meet his gaze, too mortified by his actions and the way they’d been so obvious that Tony called him out in front of everybody. Without another word, Bucky turned and escorted Jade out of the med bay. Any joy you’d felt earlier today in your accomplishments with the C-PAS had vanished with concern for Rhodey and abject embarrassment from your boyfriend.
The rest of the team had the decency, at least, to avoid looking at you.
Tony heaved a sigh and walked up to you. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I shouldn’t have drug your business into that mess.”
“You fucking think, Tony?” You shoved him hard in the chest with both your hands. “That was beyond shitty! I get you’re hurt and you’re scared– I am, too! And trust me, no one wants that bitch gone more than I do, but what you just did was— was—” You couldn’t even find the words for how horrible and small his actions had made you feel. You were, without a doubt, far more upset with Tony at that moment than you were with Bucky. Bucky, at least, had been trying to protect a friend from Tony’s wrath, however justified you personally felt it may have been, but what Tony did was unnecessarily cruel. And even worse, it wasn’t just cruel to Bucky, it was cruel to you. You couldn’t be mad at Bucky simply because he was being kind, even if you did wish he was being kind to literally anyone else on the planet.
“Tony,” Bruce called from where he stood by the Cradle. “I need to go over some more details about Rhodey’s condition with you.”
Casting you a final sympathetic look of apology, Tony turned and walked to Bruce’s side.
Nat came to your side, concern showing on her face. “You okay?” she asked softly.
“Yeah,” you said. “Is it pathetic that I’m not even that mad at Bucky?” The question came out with a half hearted laugh. 
“No,” Nat said. “I get what he was trying to do. Might not have been the smartest way to go about it, but he’s always been the protective, guard dog type.”
You breathed in a sigh of relief. If Natasha Romanoff agreed with you, it either meant you were doing something very right, or something incredibly stupid. 
Sam came up to you both after a moment. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Did you mean what you just told Tony? About wanting Carthage gone?”
You snorted. “Yeah, since before Day One. Why?”
“It’s a shared sentiment,” offered Nat.
Sam glanced around, then back to you and Nat. “We should go somewhere private,” he said. “I think the three of us should have a little chat.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months
Text
pining & desperately waiting | javier peña
take the weight off his shoulders - chapter two
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Chapter Summary | As much as he’s trying to keep his distance there is just something about you that Javier cannot stay away from. Drawn to you like a moth to a flame, so to speak. He's worried about you too, putting yourself in harms way for your work.
Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, mention of smoking and drinking alcohol, mention of drugs, drug deaths and the drug trade, explicit smut - masturbation (F)
Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.2k
Authors Note | When I tell you I love this (specific) man, I am telling you I love him. He consumes me. Thank you to @hellishjoel for letting me scream about these two with her and helping me figure this chapter out! If you like this I would love for you to join me in my ask box for screaming and please consider reblogging to support me! If you enjoyed this, you can make a donation to my Ko-Fi if you'd like to support me that way.
I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist
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You dream of him every night for a week after that night at the bar. They’re filthy, depraved sometimes, and you always wake up, slick pooling between your thighs, fingers working furiously before your alarm goes off to try a satiate you, or at least tide you over until you can climb back into bed that night and really take your time to imagine all the ways Javier would take you apart with his fingers, with his mouth, with his…. 
“Are you even listening to me?” 
You want to answer honestly and say no, you were busy daydreaming about getting railed by your dad’s buddy, but when you look across the table and see your boss practically glaring at you, you realise it’s probably for the best to lie a little. 
“Sorry,” You mumble, picking up your pen, “Didn’t sleep well, what were you saying?” 
“The fundraiser tomorrow,” She speaks, “For Dylan’s foundation, would you be okay to cover it?” 
You nod, because it makes sense for it to be you. Dylan had overdosed just over a year ago – seemingly on top of things, doing well in school and incredibly bright, found slouched over on a street corner, dead from an overdose before he’d been able to leave the small town for whatever bright lights he was destined for. He was just one of a string of drug-related deaths over the past twelve months – an ‘epidemic’ as they had coined it – the town too close to Mexico to escape the trade that Javier himself had worked so hard to quell. Dylan’s parent’s had set up a small foundation after his death, hoping to help other young kids who could be lured into this stuff to have other opportunities in their lives. 
“What kinda thing are you thinking?” You ask, starting to jot down notes as she speaks. 
“Just some reaction from people there, why they’ve decided to come out and support, maybe try and grab one of his parents, just the usual really, and we can run a story in the following days, might help drum up some more support for them if nothing else.” 
You nod, doing your usual with your notes of underlining the important parts, making notes on the kind of questions you’ll ask when you speak to people, “How many words have I got to work with?” 
“I think we can give them a page,” She says, looking to her boss who nods in agreement, “So whatever you produced for last month’s story, that should be good.” 
You nod, making a note of that too, and then continue to zone out for the rest of the meeting as everyone talks amongst themselves, mind going right back to Javi and what he would feel like putting his weight on you, settling between your thighs. You really needed to get a grip. 
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“Oh, isn’t it so nice to see such a good turn out today?” Your mom gushes, looking around at what feels like the whole of Laredo milling about a number of stalls that are selling all sorts of different things. 
“Sure is good to see,” Your dad agrees, putting his hands on your shoulders to give them a squeeze, “You want us to leave you to your reporting, pumpkin?” 
The nickname makes you wince a little, a moniker from your early days, before you’d filled out into your body. It was cute, but at twenty-five years of age, you do sometimes wish he’d find something else to call you. 
“I shouldn’t be too long,” You turn around and smile at him, “I can come and find you in a little while.” 
You wander around, introducing yourself to a few people asking them questions and jotting down notes. You’ve just finished speaking to Martina, famous throughout town for owning her own candle business, about why she’s supporting the foundation, when you step back and feel two sturdy hands holding onto your waist. You’re about to turn around and slap whoever it is for touching you, when that deep voice hits your ears.
“Careful, querida,” Javier fucking Peña, “Almost stood on my foot.” 
You whip around, mainly to put a bit of distance between the two of you, because it felt like his lips had been inches from your ear. He drops one of his hands, but keeps the other ghosting at your side, maybe to keep you steady more than anything as you wobble from the speed at which you’ve turned around. 
“Maybe you shouldn’t stand too close then?” You offer, making sure it comes out more playful than anything, because actually, all you really want is for his body to press against you more often. 
“Fair point,” He shrugs, “Thought I recognized you so I wanted to say hi,” He finally lets that other hand drop from your waist, “So hi.” Is... Is he nervous? 
You chuckle a little, “Hi,” you respond simply with a smile, “I didn’t expect to see you here,” You say honestly, this wasn’t his kind of scene before, you can’t imagine it’s any more appealing to him now, “Didn’t think it was your kind of scene.” 
He rubs a hand nervously over the back of his neck, “It’s not, I’ve been made to come,” He nods his head behind him where Chucho is talking to a group of other ranchers, “Apparently I’ve got to start showing my face more.” 
“Well, it’s a nice face,” your mouth speaks before your brain can catch up with what it’s saying, you inwardly cringe when you realise what you’ve said, “I mean, I’m sure people are happy to see you around.” Is all you can think to say to try and get him to forget the weird compliment. 
He seems to smile, but like it had been across the table almost two weeks ago, his smile seems forced, “Just wish I could skip the bullshit about everyone being proud of me.” 
“But it’s true,” You shrug, moving away from the stall with him so other people can in front of you to look, “You did really good things out there.” 
He scoffs now, shaking his head a little, “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the newspapers, querida,” He speaks, “Surely you should know that more than anyone.” 
You don’t know what he’s actually trying to say, but you decide to play it light, “Are you accusing me of lying in my stories, Peña?” You say with a smirk. 
“Perhaps not you,” He offers, “But I know plenty of journalists who know how to twist a story to get what they want,” He looks down at his shoes, kicking at the gravel a little, “Just don’t want you thinking I’m something I’m not.” 
“Been gone a long time,” You muse, “You might have to spend some time reminding me who you are.” 
It’s flirting the lines of maybe being too much you think, but you’ve not said anything that’s not true. He has been gone a long time, and if what he’s said is anything to go by, he will have to remind you of who he is or show you how he’s changed. 
“Not sure you’d like who I am now very much, querida.” He says simply. 
You’re about to open your mouth to respond, tell him you’re pretty sure that wouldn’t be true and that there isn’t a thing he could do on this earth that would make you think he was a bad person, but before you can, Chucho is coming up behind him, a firm hand on his shoulder. 
“Ah, mija,” He smiles at you, “You here alone?” 
“Hey Chucho,” You greet with a smile, “Mom and dad are around somewhere, I’m just here working on a story.” You hold up your notepad and pen.
“Let’s see if we can’t find them, huh Javi?” Chucho muses to his son, “Get you a nice cold lemonade for when you’re finished?” He motions to the blazing sun and then back to you. 
“Sounds lovely, thank you,” You motion over their shoulder to where Dylan’s parents are stood, “I just need to speak to them, and I’ll come and find you.” 
Javi doesn’t say goodbye, just follows closely behind Chucho as they disappear into the crowds, leaving you to wander over to Dylan’s parents. They’re not strangers to the paper, your boss had written a story with them not long after Dylan’s funeral, trying to spread awareness as to just how deep the drug problem ran in town. The Laredo Morning Times had always been supportive to them, so you didn’t feel the same anxiety you normally did when gathering information for stories, cold calling or knocking on doors trying to introduce yourself before doors are swiftly shut in your face or phones are hung up with a ‘no comment’. 
They’re warm with you as you speak to them, thanking you for coming, thanking the paper for agreeing to cover the event, they even smile, which for a pair who lost their only son in such a horrible way still shocks you for some reason. Their loss hasn’t defined them, only made them stronger, made them determined to stop their pain from happening to anyone else. You make a note to write something equally as poetic in your article. 
The crowds are thinning out a little as the midday sun does its worst. You can feel beads of sweat gathering behind our knees and you curse the fact you hadn’t remembered your hat. You can feel the heat prickling your skin as you spot your parents, sitting on a picnic bench with Javi and Chucho sat opposite them. When you’re close enough to the table, you can see everyone has plastic cups full of lemonade, but there’s one, put in front of the spare spot on the bench next to Javi, that is pink in colour instead of the cloudy yellow of everyone else’s. 
“You get everything you need?” Your dad asks, as you try and fight your legs over the bench in the most graceful way possible. 
“Yeah,” You nod, “Think it’ll make a great piece, Dylan’s parents seem really positive about it all,” You pick up the cup and take a sip, pink lemonade, your favourite, “Thanks for this.” You nod in the direction of your dad. 
“Don’t thank me, Javi got these,” He smiles, “Remembered you preferred pink lemonade and everything.” 
It actually makes your heart swell in your chest. He was always thoughtful, even before he left. Observant almost to a fault. But even after all these years, all of his stress, everything he’s seen, he still knows you well enough to know you prefer the sweeter pink lemonade. You turn your head to him to find him already looking at you with a little smile on his face. 
“Thank you.” You say quietly, sipping through the straw. 
“You’re welcome, dulzura.” 
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Javier Peña is doing a piss poor job of staying away from you, even by his standards. He lasted less than a week before he was waltzing over to you, hands on your waist, buying you pink lemonade because he knows you prefer it. There hasn’t been a night where he hasn’t wrapped his fist around his cock and made himself cum over the thought of you. He finds it easier to drop off to sleep once he’s done it, but his nights are still fitful, full of nightmares, tossing and turning, waking up to sweat soaked sheets and a heaving chest. He wonders briefly, when he lies awake watching the dawn arrive through his curtains, whether your body next to him would ease his nightmares? But then he thinks what if it doesn’t. What if you have to wake up, look at him with those innocent doe eyes and see him for what he really is?  No, he can’t let his darkness cloud you, you don’t deserve that, you deserve someone that going to be gentle with you, someone softer, not him with all his jagged edges. 
He's currently sitting in his truck, just outside of the liquor store, contemplating how badly he wants that packet of cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey he’d driven out to buy. He’d done alright so far, chewing on his Nicorette gum, but his fingers are itching for the familiarity of a cigarette between his fingers, and he’d finished the bottle of whiskey last night. 
Then, almost like he’s being punished by God, which would make sense really, all things considered, you’re in his eyeline, walking down the street with a woman who is a little older than you, with your notepad and pen clutched in your hand. It’s late and he wonders where you must be going to report at such a late hour, and then he worries, because in his experience, nothing good happens after dark that worth making the newspapers. As the two of you approach him, he leans further out of his open window, holding his arm out to catch your attention. 
“Hey Javi,” You smile, coming to a stop in front of his window, “What are you doing in town?”
“Just picking a few things up,” He answers simply, because this isn’t about him, he needs to know where you’re going, “Where are you going this late?” 
You turn to the older woman you’re with, tell her to go on ahead and you’ll catch her up, “There’s been some kind of drugs bust a few streets over,” You explain, “Sounds like it might be quite big so we’re just going down to see what’s happening.” 
“Your dad working it?” He asks, because if he is, he knows you’ll be okay. 
You shake your head, “Nah, he’s not on nights right now,” You’re shifting back and forth on your feet, clearly itching to get going, “I’ll be alright though, sounds like plenty of dad’s officers are down there.” 
He turns his head back to the steering wheel and then back to you, “Be careful, alright?”
You smile at him again and if he’s not careful, he really could get used to being the person who draws that from you more often, “I know what I’m doing,” You chuckle slightly, and he doesn’t doubt it, not really, “Been covering this kinda shit for a while.” 
Without really thinking about it, he leans over, roots around in the glovebox and pulls out the little card he knows that’s in there. He passes it over to you, letting you take it, “It’s got my number on it,” He explains, “I’ve been in this shit and I just…” He trails off with a sigh, “Just, call me before you write something that might get you in trouble, okay?” 
“Worried about me, Peña?” You smirk, and he thinks above your smile, he’d like to make you smirk more too. 
“I’ve just seen too many good journalists write things that ruin their careers,” He shrugs, trying to play it off but probably doing a terrible job of it, “Don’t want you to make the same mistake.” 
He watches as you turn the card over in your fingers a few times, before smiling at him one last time, “I’ll call you if need you.” And he really hopes you do. 
In that moment, he gives up on trying to resist the call of the liquor store, pulling out his keys from the ignition and opening his door, climbing down onto the pavement. He stalls a little, before he puts a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze, “Go and get your story, reporter.” And then motions his head for you to go. 
He buys a bottle of whiskey and two packs of cigarettes, smokes two of them before he gets home. He thinks if he were a stronger man he’d have managed to quit, but he’s not, especially when it comes to you. Sure, he knew you before, but this new you? He’s known less than a month and he’s already struggling to stick to his own rules. He steps down from his truck back on the ranch, walks in and pours himself a healthy double, trying to convince himself it’ll be okay, he just needs to keep to himself, but when he’s led in bed at night, thinking of your sweet smile, he thinks this might just be another thing he fails at. 
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It’s late. Too late for you to be awake when you have to be at the office in the morning, but you can’t stop looking at the series of numbers, printed on the little card, underneath the words ‘Javier Peña, DEA.’ It’s out of date, clearly, the DEA nothing more than a memory to him. But it’s the principle of it that matters most. He’s worried about you, and he would only worry if he cared right? 
You set it on your nightstand, switch off the little lamp and plunge yourself into darkness, right at the same time as you plunge your hand under your sleep shorts and through your folds. You’re soaked, because you always are when you think about him, it’s actually sort of pathetic. You sink two fingers into yourself, only briefly, letting out a satisfied breath, dragging your slick fingers back you to slowly circle your clit. 
It's new, the way you always need to take care of yourself. The brief relationship you’d had in college with James hadn’t given you much to work with, you hadn’t really felt desperation to get yourself off like this before. 
Your other hand, currently running over your peaked nipples through your tank top, is itching to reach across to your nightstand, pick up the phone and dial that number. You want to breathe down the phone at him, tell him you’re being so bad, that you need him to help, need that deep voice to guide you through it. As you press your fingers harder into your clit, speeding up your circles and bucking your hips, you wonder what he’d actually do if you did call him. Would he tell you to get lost? You don’t think he would, you think he’d do exactly as you asked, talk you through it. 
You imagine his voice in your ear, telling you how good you’re being for him. You imagine his hand replacing your own, sinking his fingers into you, using his thumb to work your clit, the rough of his moustache running over the skin of your neck as he kisses you there. It’s the image of him looking down at you, smiling as he makes you cum that tips you over the edge. That flood of relief that rushes through you as you bite down on your bottom lip to keep you from whispering his name as your body shakes through your orgasm. 
You wipe your slick fingers on the skin of your thigh, roll over in bed so your back is to the phone, trying to get your breathing under control. You drag the covers up under your chin, closing your eyes and trying to sleep without imagining his strong arm around your waist, his broad chest against your back. Does he snore? You wonder as you try and fall asleep. Would he keep you warm? It’s all running through your head as you sleep, conjuring up dreams that come morning have you realizing something has to give, you have to know, you have to have him. You needed Javier Peña more than the air you breathe, no matter how bad it was to admit that, no matter what it meant, no matter what it would cost, you needed him and you think to yourself as you drive to work, that he might just need you as much as you need him. 
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clxja16 · 9 months
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Enough
Part II
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Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader
Genre: I still don't know
Warnings: angst
Word Count: 3K
Author's Note: This took a little longer than I had anticipated. I hope you guys like it, I feel like this isn't overly dramatic but it's a realistic reaction to what we found out in the first part. idk you tell me what you guys think. part 3???
Part I
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You rolled over in the bed, you could feel the sun beam down on you through the window, but you didn’t want to open your eyes.  You wanted to fall back asleep.  Your heart felt heavy as you began to replay last night's events over again. You could hear your Mamma’s voice bounce around your head.  You could see your Father’s guilty look behind your eyelids.  Finally sitting up, you looked around the room, not seeing Charles anywhere.  
You went to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror.  Your eyes puffy from how hard you were crying last night, you can see some leftover mascara in the corners of your eyes.  You took a deep breath, washing your face, brushing your teeth before you decided to look for Charles.  A part of you hoped that you missed him already, and he was at training already.  
You knew he was going to ask what happened, and you’re not too sure you can get through the story without crying again.  You paused by the bedroom door, listening if you could hear anybody throughout the apartment.  You could hear the soft melody playing.  Charles was listening to another piano piece.  
You made your way to the kitchen, where he stood drinking some water.  He was drenched in sweat, his shirt tossed aside on the kitchen counter.  You smirked to yourself, part of you focused on his physic and the other part thinking you won’t have to talk about last night.  
“Morning,” he greets you breathlessly.  
“Morning,” you say, going up to give him a quick kiss, careful not to get his sweat on you, “did you just get back from a run…” 
“Yeah, I canceled my training with Andrea today,” he says, turning to watch you as you prepare yourself a cup of coffee.  
“Why did you cancel?” You ask.  
“ma chère,” Charles says, giving you a funny look, “you came home crying, literally shaking last night, training can wait, you’re more important.” 
You smile at Charles’ sentiment, “I’m fine, last night is nothing for you to worry about.” 
“y/n,” Charles says, grabbing your arm, turning you to face him, “what happened last night?” 
The question was enough to bring you to tears.  You felt your bottom lip begin to quiver as you opened your mouth to speak.  “It was them,” is all you can say before you have to wipe away tears.  Charles moves to hold you, and you hold up your hand to stop him.  You take a few steps back, knowing that if he holds you, sweaty and all, you won’t be able to stop crying.  You won’t ever be able to tell him what happened.  “I’m sorry, let me… Let me just take a breath.”  
You take a few deep breaths before you continue, “It was my parents.”  You still feel tears fall, but they fall slower now.  You can control your breathing enough to get through the story.  “They admitted to working a few negotiations to ensure I wouldn’t get a seat in F2.” 
Charles does nothing to hide his surprise.  “Why…” you leave Charles absolutely speechless with your statement.  “Why would they do that?” He is finally able to ask.  
You force yourself to take another deep breath before speaking again, “they were scared.  Scared that what happened to Jules would happen to me.  Scared that the safety measures wouldn’t work.  They were scared that I would get into the car and I wouldn’t get back out.”  
You watch Charles face change, it changes from shock to guilt.  “I see,” is all he says.  
“I want to forgive them, they’re my parents,” you close your eyes, trying to shake away the tears, “but that was my dream,” you look Charles square in the eyes.  “That is all I ever wanted to do with my life.  I wanted to be a formula 1 driver, that’s it.  That was the dream, and they took it away.  They took it away before I even had a chance.” 
Charles nods his head, “don’t forgive them.” 
“What?” You don’t expect Charles to say ‘don’t forgive them.’  You expected the exact opposite from him. 
Charles take a deep breath, “don’t forgive them until you’re ready.  Don’t force yourself to forgive them because they’re your parents.  Be understanding.  Understand why they did it, but that doesn’t mean you need to forgive them.  You forgive them when you’re ready to forgive them.” 
“Thank you for that,” you say.  Charles’ words make you feel seen. They make you feel sane, and not like you’re being over dramatic. 
“Of course,” Charles says as his hand grabs yours, his thumb gliding softly across your knuckles.  
“There’s something else,” you speak up as you remembered what else your parents confessed to last night.  
“What else?” 
“My father asked,” you pause, you can’t even begin to imagine the amount of drama this will cause, “he asked for Fred to delay your contract signing.” 
You see Charles' face look guilty once more, he sighs, “I know about that.” 
This time you can’t hide your surprise, “what do you mean you know about that?” 
Charles runs his hands across his face, “I signed my extension already.”  He takes a sip of his water before continuing, “during Spa.  Fred told me about what Toto asked for.  Fred told me that he wasn’t going to delay the signing, because he knew that I would pick you over my seat.” 
“Charles,” you say breathlessly, shaking your head trying to understand.  “Why didn’t you tell me when you found out?  Why on Earth would you pick me over your seat?  Charles…” 
“Y/n,” Charles says, stopping you before you can ask another question.  “He’s your father,” Charles looks at you with compassion, “I didn’t want you thinking badly about your father, especially when all he was doing was protecting you.  As for my seat, of course I would pick you.  It’s you, there’s only one of you, but there's 19 other seats that I could get.” 
You sniffle as Charles has said enough for you to stop crying, he moves to hug you.  “Don’t you dare.” you say before he can grab you. 
“Why?” 
You looked baffled at Charles, “you’re all sweaty,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  “You need a shower.”  
Charles smirks, “you can shower with me,” he says as he grabs you, squeezing you tightly, spinning you off the floor.  
You can’t help but giggle at Charles, he laughs as he watches your face.  Finally when he stops spinning and sets you back down.  He still holds you close, as he looks deeply in your eyes.  Your smile falters as you remember everything.  Your eyes fill again with tears, you can’t decide if they’re happy or sad tears, maybe a mixture of both.  “Charles…” you don’t know what to say, because ‘thank you’ doesn’t feel like enough, nothing feels like enough to describe how you feel right now.  How grateful you are, how in love, how overjoyed, how despicably sad, how much of everything you feel.  
“I know,” he says, and lucky enough for you; you don’t need to say anything.  He knows.  He knows you enough to know exactly how you feel. 
-
You spend the next couple days avoiding your parents.  While living in Monaco the task is proving more difficult than you initially thought.  Charles is proving to be exceptionally kind, letting you quietly wallow in your misery.  He doesn’t push you to get over it, he doesn’t force you to see your parents, he doesn’t ask you to move past it.  He gives you time, he gives you the space you need.  
Today, he kisses you goodbye as he leaves for training while you sip away at the coffee you made yourself.  You watch Charles walk out the door, and a part of you feels resentful that he has a seat and you don’t.  You know it’s not his fault, that he’s not the reason you’re not racing, but a part of you hates that he has the opportunity and you don’t.  
You don’t like feeling like this, you don’t like resenting Charles for no reason.  You decide that it’s time you see your parents.  You don’t know what you’re going to say to them.  You’re not even sure how you’re going to react when you see them again.  You make sure you text Charles to inform him where you’re going before you leave.  
When you get to your house, there's an unsettling quiet that’s over the house.  You’re not sure if anyone is home.  The first person you run into is Antonie, the maid.  When she sees you, you place a finger over your lips to signal to be quiet.  She purses her lips at you, and points to your father’s office.  As you move closer, you’re taken aback to that night.  
That night you stood in the very same spot you’re standing in now.  You debate on knocking on the door, you wonder if there is anything to say to them.  You try to listen closely to hear if they’re saying anything.  It’s utter silence on the other side.  You try to think of something to say before you knock on the door.  Nothing comes to your mind, you tell yourself to wing it.  You convince yourself that the words will come to you.  
You knock on the door, “come in,” your father says from the other side.  There's a pause in your step.  Hand on the knob.  You slowly turn the knob to open the door.  Your father is sitting at his desk, typing away at his computer.  Mamma is on the other side, flipping through some paperwork.  It takes them a second to look up, their work being more important.  
When they do look up and see you, they pause.  Mamma puts down the paperwork, she stands, wanting to hold you, to reach out, to comfort you.  Your father closes the laptop, he pushes it aside, he turns his chair to face you.  
“Sweetheart,” Mamma speaks up first, you watch her try to blink away the tears, while she holds a painful smile to her face.  You feel like you lose the ability to breathe for a second as tears fall from your eyes, part of you wants so much to just run into her arms, and just sob.  You want her to hold you and rock you, like the small child you feel like you are.  
You take a second, you wipe away the tears that have fallen, and you finally take a breath.  “I understand,” you say, once you start you don’t stop.  You allow everything you’ve been feeling to come out.  “I get it, I understand why you pulled me from racing.”  You can’t stop yourself from crying as you go through your emotions.  “I understand that you were scared.  That you were afraid I wasn’t going to come back alive.  That you wanted to protect your child from dying.  I understand now.” 
Mamma finally allows her tears to fall, she wants so much to hold you.  To apologize over and over again.  She wants to go back in time and tell herself that you’re going to be okay.  She wants to make this okay.  
“But I don’t forgive you,” you say, and you watch your Mamma’s heartbreak.  “I can’t forgive you… not yet at least.”  You finally feel like a weight is lifted off your shoulders and you feel like you’re able to breathe completely free.  “I don’t forgive you, not yet at the very least; but I need to accept what you have done.  I need to come to terms with what you did, because if I don’t, I will ruin my relationship with Charles.  And I love him, I love him more than I loved racing, and I don’t want to ruin this.  I can’t ruin this.” 
“Darling,” your father says, standing to approach you.  A part of you wanted to allow him to come closer.  He was your dad, your hero, and he could make all the problems in the world disappear.  You always ran to him whenever you had a problem and he always would fix it for you.  But now he’s the problem, and you don’t think he can fix this.  
“I…” You take a breath, stepping back and away from your father.  “I just came here to say, I love you guys, and you will always be my parents, but I need more time to find a way to forgive you.  I understand why you did what you did, but I don’t forgive you.  I still love you, but I need more time.” 
“We understand,” Mamma says, as she comes up to grab your father’s arm.  She wraps her arm around his, and she repeats the sentiment, “we understand your need for more time.”   Mamma smiles at you as more tears escape her.  “We will be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 
“Thank you Mamma,” you say, and for the first time since that night, you can finally say you feel happy.  
-
You hum along to the song playing in the background as you move about the kitchen in Charles’ apartment.  You feel light on your feet as you dance to the music, as you fix yourself something to eat.  When Charles finally comes home, he’s surprised but delighted to hear the music playing through the apartment. 
“Ma chère?” Charles calls out as he follows the music into the kitchen.  
“Hello, my love,” you spoke in a sickly sweet tone that Charles hasn’t heard for days now.  
“Hi,” he says as he gives you a quick kiss, “you seem happy?”  
“I am happy,” you smile, looking at Charles.  You pause the music, now being more serious, “I saw my parents today.” 
Charles watched you carefully, unsure about how to react, “and? How did it go?” 
“I couldn’t forgive them,” you say, and part of you worries that Charles is going to be disappointed.  
“That’s okay,” Charles says as he pulls you into a hug and holds you close.  He doesn’t want you to feel forced to do anything you’re not ready to do.  
“But,” you pull away from Charles to look at him, “I did tell them that I understood why they did it.  And I told them that I still love them because they are my parents.” 
“And that made you feel better?” 
“Yeah, I feel better,” you say whole heartedly, “this is probably the best I have felt since that night.” 
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Charles says, pulling you into a much needed kiss.  He can see you relax, and for the first time in days you don’t appear tense.  
-
Charles thinks he should’ve told you about this, but he doesn’t want to make the situation with your parents worse.  As he walks into the restaurant, he gives the name to the hostess, and she takes him to a private dining room.  Charles sees him sitting there, back to him.  This is the last opportunity Charles has to walk out, and pretend this never happened.  
“Sir?” Charles greets, sticking his hand out to shake as he approaches the table. 
“Charles,” Toto says, as he stands, shaking Charles’ hand, “I appreciate you meeting with me.” 
Charles doesn’t sit, he doesn’t want to get too comfortable.  “I won’t force her to forgive you or Susie,” Charles feels like he should get that out in the open right away.  
“Charles, please sit,” Toto gestured to the open seat across from him.  “I don’t want you to force her to forgive us.  Although we had the right intention, we’re the ones that screwed it up.”  
Charles takes a seat across, his pulse starts to pick up.  This moment feels more stressful than any race he’s participated in.  “Why did you ask to see me?” 
“Fred asked me something a little while back and I'm curious if the question was valid,” Toto says.  He finally puts the menu down, and he looks squarely at Charles.  Toto isn’t trying to be intimidating, he just wants to know what Charles feels.  “If you had to choose, would you have picked my daughter over your seat at Ferrari?” 
Charles doesn’t hesitate to say, “I would pick her.  In a thousand scenarios, in a thousand lifetimes, I would pick your daughter again and again.  I love y/n.”  
Toto might be a cynic when he says, “I find that hard to believe Charles, when I, personally, have seen you bring different girls into your hotel room during one grand prix weekend.”  
Charles knows his dating history isn’t the prettiest, and he knows that he has a bit of a checkered past with this stuff, but how he feels about you isn’t something he would lie about.  “I understand your concern, I would like to think if I was in your position my concerns would be the same.  However y/n knows about my past and my dating history.  She knows about the weekends with a different girl every night.  She knows everything, and she still trusts me to love her.” 
“You’re not good enough for her, Charles.” 
“I’m not,” Charles agrees, much to Toto's surprise.  “But I'm putting in the work to be good enough for her.  I’m trying my best to be enough for her, and I will do so for as long as she allows me.”  Charles is a very traditional person, and he wants to do this right.  He pulls the box from his pocket, and hands it over to Toto.  “I hope it's for the rest of our lives.” 
Toto opens the box, and there is the most stunning engagement ring.  “I wanted to ask for your blessing sir,” Charles says, “but regardless if you give it or not, I’m going to ask her to marry me.” 
Toto is at a complete loss for words, he’s not sure what to say next. 
Part III
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yahoodarling · 3 months
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Yandere Thoma/Ayato X IsekaiedGN Reader
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Warnings: Posted in comments to avoid spoilers, please read them if you wish to avoid potential triggers.
Word Count: 20k (Full Fic)
Chapter option: Part 1 ( 3 Chapters, +-6k ea)
It's disgusting, it is discomfort incarnate to have such foresight into the fate of the world and yet be bound to its own laws of destiny, especially when what you were sure was to take place is altered. You no longer have any ground of understanding except the uncanny feeling that things are not as they should be, to be so similar and yet be so changed. You knew things will end up alright, as long as you do not interfere then Inazumas political warfare will reach a peaceful end and it did. You watched, noted those ‘special’ to the world, those who have a story, a life, a reason and you took the responsibility of not getting involved and it worked. You became an npc, avoided any confrontation with those deemed ‘special’, avoided any influence in the ‘plot’, watched as a hero came, a nation saved and a people newly united. It worked. Your foresight was correct yet… things changed. With no base to rely on, how were you to know what the ‘future’ must be, how were you to know what to avoid, who to avoid and what minor choice may change a future? The hero has left, gone to Sumeru you guess, no, you know, you know the hero leaves for a new nation but so has your foresight and with that comes the change. The one day gathering supplies, one day speaking to a fellow npc to fill some sort of social need, one day being in the ‘dark’ and you've caused a spark.
“Oh Aoi, good morning to you!”
He didn't speak to you, it was directed to the npc shopkeep you were chatting with and yet it grabbed your attention. Thoma is ‘special’, Thoma is relevant and so he must be avoided and you failed. 
Thoma spoke of how lovely the nights have been, of the soft whistles of sea, even to npcs Thoma was a gentleman starting conversation. He then noted how ‘unique’ your eyes are, a depth to them he's never seen before. That comment frightened you, made you rush to leave, to stop the change. Quickly you felt a hand on your shoulder,
“Please excuse my rudeness but how about we have a stroll? I know its unfair of me to ask a stranger such a thing but… you remind me of a home away from home, if you would grant me such a pleasure that is.” he ended with a chuckle. You have been so realistic up to this point, so good at avoiding ‘change’ but you have a heart and knew all too well that whatever feeling Thoma is experiencing is something important to him. You have a heart and so you accept. A single light hearted stroll became a weekly meet at the shop front, ‘coincidentally’, which became a personal relationship which became a friend. It's alright though, Thomas is a social guy, he's close with many npcs who never impacted the ‘plot’, you can be one such npc, that's fine. Change is fine. 
It's not fine. Meeting with Thoma you eventually met with other ‘special’ individuals you knew by name before they even knew of your existence. It's a weird feeling to know a person before getting to meet them, all the private details, their worries, their joys and yet to remain oblivious.
“A formal greeting from the Kamisato Clan, I am glad to see Thoma has a new friend. Do treat him well, sadly I must make short of this meet.” and the man who is most likely the most influential to whatever ‘plot’ is to come of Inazuma greeted. Kamisato Ayato was amongst your top ‘DO NOT ENGAGE’ list other than the archon herself and yet somehow naive bliss and a VERY convincing plea(almost suspiciously good) from Thoma to have lunch by the beaches near the residence of the Kamisato Clan lead you right into his ‘life’. You have no ‘life’, you are meant to have no ‘life’, no value or effect and yet by each interaction with those deemed ‘special’ by the world your plans crumble.
Ayato then promptly bowed and walked out the residents gate, a body guard joining him as he started his track along the path you had just taken towards the city.
“Ah right, he has that meeting. A pity, if his schedule was more open I would have asked for him to join us.” Thoma turned to you with a quick hesitant smile, “he's really not as imposing as you may think he is. Ah well… maybe he still is but just in a different way then what the people expect. If you'd like, maybe I could let you know when my lord and I are doing something casual, if you would be comfortable with that of course.  I forget just how intimidating the idea of being casual with a clan lord can be to someone who doesn't know him as well as I do.”
“Thank you for the offer Thoma but I'd like it if we just kept it the two of us. You are right, the idea is a little frightening right now.” 
You knew what Thoma meant by all that, he means that Ayato is a genuine person underneath his political mask. Ayato is a brother, a friend and a man caring for those deemed under his protection and to those lucky enough to see under his mask they may be met with the unlucky fate of becoming a target to his mischievous nature. 
Still, the idea of getting involved with someone so influential is nauseating even if just for something ‘casual' as Thoma has in mind. In truth you shouldn't even be here, here near the Kamisato Clan, here near someone like Thoma, here in Teyvat in the first place. You shouldn't be here. 
“I see, that's expected haha.” Thoma smiled at you wildly, reaffirmed at the idea of something going on in his mind (if only knowing what said idea was was as easy as opening a character profile and reading a line directly out of his thoughts) “Well we are still here for a good time. Let me get that blanket and pillows for the beach quickly. You are going to love it!” Thoma quickly skipped into the yard of the clans walls while you waited outside and watched as the npcs you recognized patterned around the area.  That one person at the commission board, you had forgotten his name by now after fulfilling Inazumas reputation months ago. There was the old lady sweeping in the yard, what did she comment on again? … … it never came to you, it was all forgetful anyway.  A sudden feeling of envy hit you. They were forgetful, oh how lovely that would be to ease your nerves. To know that each day the sun rises you can follow your coded script without fear of altering the fate of the very universe by the time the sun goes down. Wow, you've messed up haha. 
Thoma returned quickly as promised, a blanket and two pillows clutched under one arm as a basket was held in another but probably most heavy of all was the giant smile on his face, wrinkling his cheeks with a sense of genuine happiness. No wonder you messed up, it would be impossible to say no to him. It's all his fault and yet you felt you could never put the blame on him. 
“Well, sorry to have starved you of your lunch for so long, we are nearly there and I can't wait to see your reaction.” Thoma then lead you through a short path of the surrounding forest and down towards the beach. 
Perhaps your recollection of the game isn't accurate, you could have sworn a group of enemies should be nearby the beach here but all along the coast line was just gentle laps of the waves upon white sand. Thoma layed out the blanket with little worries evident on his face, he placed both pillows down then removed his shoes, each unclad foot stepping on the blanket to avoid spreading sand all over it, you promptly did the same, sitting down and placing the basket you had down next to his. 
“This place is lovely at any time of the day but especially during sunset, I would have asked for you to join then but I feared it would make things inconvenient for you but still, spending the afternoon here is just lovely nonetheless.” he criss crossed his legs and then beamed at you.
“Come on then, don't keep me waiting, I'm dying to try out one of your baked goods.”
Right. One of the first things you did when you realised you were now living in the game was (panic, cry, internally scream in confusion as to how this has happened and if your world will keep on going and you aren't in it) actually to set up an identity for yourself. Running around and claiming to have come from another world and how you somehow know very personal details of select people and the future fate of the nation would lead to either your banishment or a future altered and possibly worse where peace was not founded, the resistance killed off and the entire plot of the ‘game’ thrown off. Not a good idea. Instead you tried to incorporate yourself into the ‘npc lifestyle’ as quickly as possible. You came up with a backstory that befit this world, you are a failed Sumeru scholar who has come to Inazuma to lead a new simple life outside of your failures. (In truth you stole inspiration for the backstory from some npc you think was on Sangonomiya Island.) It makes sense, people you tell won't  ask you more about your past details in fear of being insensitive and Sumeru scholars are sometimes brought to Inazuma. You explained your (fake) predicament to a shop vendor who referenced you to the local baker who took you on. Now you bake goods behind the walls, don't face any customers and have a very npc-like backstory and job. You set yourself up well which was helped by all the knowledge you have of this world. Too bad you messed up all that work and are sat in front of someone ‘special’. Maybe you can salvage the situation, maybe it's not as bad as you think it is, you only have ‘maybes’ which isn't helpful since you had a ‘definitely’ to rely on before Inazumas ‘quest’ was finished by the hero. 
You just smile at Thoma and reach your basket. “I made some simple bread rolls and brought some butter and jam but I also made some black sesame biscuits before leaving work. Thanks again for convincing my boss to let me off early today, things get busy there.”
“Not a problem, I don't often take days off either but I think I just needed a break today and imagined it would be a nice chance to get to know you more. How about you pass me one of your rolls in exchange for a serving of okonomiyaki? Sorry it's probably cold by now but should still be good.” He reached into his basket taking out some wooden containers as well as some cloths, likely for cleaning any spillages, and handed you one with you exchanging and giving him a roll and butter from your pack. 
You both nibbled at each other's creations, the bread rolls were still slightly warm on the inside since you had baked them before leaving, which Thoma commented on how lovely it is with the butter. The okonomiyaki you took pieces out of was cold but packed with various spices and toppings which really highlighted Thomas skills. 
“I just love that we can do this!” Thoma announced after his last bite.  “I love getting to make and share things with friends, it's touching the combined effort put into it as well as the delicious outcome we get to enjoy. Haha, my lord and I do a similar thing but its outcome is not as enjoyable as warmed bread and butter, if anything it's concerning haha. Remember how earlier I said how he can be a little intimidating, our little cook outs are one such example. I really have to steel myself for those.” he chuckled and then leaned down on his elbows.
Once again, what he's trying to explain is something you already know of but need to act oblivious to. You have to convince yourself to be unaware and yet need to be aware enough to avoid ‘changing’ anything, this task has grown rather wearing but is essential to keep up your act. 
“Oh? How could cooking together turn out so threatening? You two are close though.” He laughed
“It's because we are close that he feels he can torment me with his cooking. I swear, I'm surprised I haven't kneeled over and died yet. Worst part is he knows it's tomenting, it's the best part to him! Agh- I've had so many of my own treats I've made be ruined by whatever his plan is. Haha, it's amusing to look back on but just so daunting at the moment. When I said we could do something ‘casual’ with him I do not mean having one of these cook outs haha, I could never subject you to that.” 
The nature of the conversation stayed light hearted, you both exchanging from your baskets while sharing stories or light hearted moments, you had altered your side of things a little, you spoke truth of personal events but under the filter to fit with your backstory, that way lies couldn't catch up with you or forgetting lots of little made up details. The outing was rather pressuring in concept, so much could go wrong since you are involved, but in reality it was very nice. You had kept yourself back a lot when it comes to building relationships with the people around you in fear of your influence potentially changing something important but you are still human and still have social needs but even people like your boss, coworkers and the shop vendors you chat with in passing never fit what it meant to have a friend, to have someone to sit next to and simply have a good time with. 
Maybe you've been in this world for too long, you fear you may slip into making a ‘normal’ life here now that you've had a taste of what it means to ‘live’.
The sun started moving, waves became more rash upon the shore and the signs of the afternoon turning to evening became evident. You started packing up your basket and containers, lightly chatting on with Thoma about the seaside. To the side you heard footsteps and Thoma sat himself up straight to look at the oncomer. 
“Oh! Done with the meeting my lord?”
Your hand slipped in fright, the container lid clattering as you tried to put it with its matching box. Shit, why is he here? Shouldn't Ayato be too busy? Isn't that one of his whole character points? Not once was ‘strolls on the beach’ mentioned in any of his character lines. You looked up and smiled at him in greeting, your face tugged up tensely and trying very hard to look at ease. You decided it would be easier to let Thoma handle him and just got back to packing your things away. 
“Good evening to you too,” he chuckled softly and shifted his gloves, “the meet is done without any problems. When I got back home I wondered if you were still out here, seems I was right. I can now also fix a prominent mistake of mine.”
Even though you tried your hardest to avoid eye contact and look busy it's not like you had mountains to put away, you were left empty handed with a pair of well polished shoes in front of you, their sheen contrasted with the speaks of sand now defiling them. You took a breath in and looked up properly to meet his gaze. 
“I do apologise for being so rash earlier, I would have liked a proper introduction. As you can surmise i am Ayato, Thoma has mentioned of you before and I am glad to have the honor of meeting you in person.” he smiled in greeting, no doubt he would have offered a hand or a bow if you both were at the same height but for now a smile would do. 
“Right, it is truly an honour Lord Ayato. Thank you for extending your welcome to me.” you bowed slightly.
He laughed slightly, deeply amused. 
“Do just call me Ayato in private like this and last I recall, yes my property is in the area but that doesn't warrant me the entire beach side. In truth I have not welcomed you at all.” 
Thoma sighed slightly, “My lord please don't tease them so readily, I would like to eventually re invite them here but I can't do that if you've scared them away.”
“Of course, maybe then I can truly offer my welcome and they may join us to tea in the confines of the clan.”
Thoma sighed again at the slight continuation of Ayato's mischief. You took the opportunity of their exchange as an opening and stood up.
“Thank you for the food today Thoma and for bringing me to such a lovely place. I'll get going before it gets too late.”
“Oh, let me walk you back then.”
You shook your head in defiance, “No need, I know the way and it doesn't make sense for you to walk all the way just to have to return. Bringing me here was amazing in itself.”
You turned to Ayato and bowed again, less in respect and more so to keep away from eye contact. 
“Thank you again Lord Ayato. Stay well.” and quickly you make your way off the sands of the beach and towards the trek back home into the outer city. 
Thoma and Ayato stayed still, simply watching you go in silence until you were out of eyesight. It was Ayato that broke the silence.
“You are sure they do not carry any ill intent?” he said monotonously, still looking at the spot you disappeared to.
“I am sure. They are a decent person and I double checked, they don't have a past linked to any organisation. Sure they are rather anxious, I see it often, a little skittish at times and slightly paranoid but it's not at the prospect of the clan. Haha, if you've taught me anything it's to be aware of people's intentions, if anything they are trying to run away rather than to get close. I can assure you, they don't have an agenda against the clan.”
Ayato breathed out, then turned himself to properly look at Thoma, his face relieved. “If that's your judgement it must be true then.”
An odd moment of silence spread between the two of them on the beach, both looking out as the sky took on warmer hues of yellow and orange clashing with its deeper blues. 
“You've been coming here a lot more recently and to have invited a friend here as well, has your mind been on your homeland?”
Thoma chuckled and leaned back out on the blanket, now dusted with sand and corners crinkled after the day's events, “I have. Thinking about the mountains of Mondstadt and all the memories just out there across the ocean. It's not in a sad sense, not at all, it's just that recently-,” he paused, looking away from the ocean and down to his lap, slightly gnawing on his lip in thought, “recently i've felt more… connected with myself. It's a nice feeling if not slightly concerning. I feel I'm getting to know myself better but it also just clearly shows how much I have yet to discover.” He sighed, closed his eyes and fully laid down on his back. 
Ayato looked down on his friend, doing as he does best and figuring out just what was going on in his mind, his feelings, the reasons for such feelings and the potential catalysts that brought them about. He kneeled down onto the blanket beside his friend, form straight from a lifetime of practice. 
“Does your new friend have anything to do with it?” he asks only to be met with silence, Ayato doesn't need an answer, he already knows it's true but just why that is so is still unknown.
“It isn't that you have fallen for them have you? I didn't think of you as one for love to occur after a reasonably short time.”
Thoma opened his eyes languidly and responded this time.
“I don't think it is love. Not yet but… i'd say i've definitely fallen for them haha, in whatever way that is i'm not sure but it feels… unbridled in nature.” he closed his eyes once more and shook his head at his own emotions. He tugged on a smile and relieved himself of his weighing thoughts, “So i'd appreciate it if you don't chase them away okay? I look forward to figuring out what's going on with both myself and with them.”
Ayato nodded wordlessly, not needing to disturb the quiet with a response.
“Ayato, did you notice the look in their eyes? It truly just- it just instantly made me feel like I was reliving my home town but also… not. It was familiar but also so foreign.”
“I hadn't gotten a good look at them in truth. They seemed rather determined in keeping their eyesight on anything but me.”
Thoma nodded in acknowledgement, “Makes sense. I do hope they warm up to the idea of the three of us doing something together eventually. Haha, once they've settled their nerves they are very comforting to talk with, I think you'd like them.”
Comfortable silence stretched along the two, the shades of yellow and orange in the sky deepening to reds and purples. In time Ayato stood up, no doubt with the intent of work to finish. He turned to leave before side glancing at Thoma. 
“The nobushi that often occupy these beaches, you've disposed of them correct?”
“Did it just this morning to make sure the beach was safe for today as well as to clear out the threat they bring.”
Ayato sighed in annoyance. 
“I still can't believe those ruffians believe they outwit us, thinking being close to the clan means they may spot our vulnerabilities.” he shook his head slightly, like the ‘danger’ the oathless samurai possessed was nothing but a pesky fly. 
He then made his way back to the clan home leaving Thoma to steep in his own thoughts. 
It was after this interaction that you decided to cut things down. At first you imagined Thoma to be the safest ‘special’ person to come across, given how social he is and loved by many you could become a face in the crowd while also tending to your social needs and appeasing Thoma who, and you still wonder why, wanted to get closer to you. Following the path you've taken recently, of course you were wrong, in fact Thoma should have been on that list of ‘DO NOT ENGAGE’ for the very reason you thought it was safe to: he's social. Very quickly you had realised in your time meeting with him that he would smile and wave to many walking by, one such instance was panic inducing when you noticed Yoimiya come over to greet him. Before she had fully skipped up to the both of you you had promptly dismissed yourself and ran back to the confines of your walls to avoid meeting someone so ‘special’. 
This was Thomas' problem, he is the network that is connected to so many ‘characters’ that by staying by his side means undoubtedly meeting with the others. Today's incident was clearly that, you met Ayato, you were right there at the clan bordering the line of stepping into the grounds of one of the most impactful places of Inazuma and it was Thoma that had convinced you to do so. You had been too lenient on your rules recently, too selfish. You don't follow these rules you've written up for yourself because you want to but because you know it's for the better of the future and altering such a future because you can't stay inline is selfish to every being in Teyvat that could possibly be influenced by your choices. 
To live means to influence your environment, to live means to leave an impression that proves your existence. You wish for nothing right now other than to ‘die’, be void of life and find comfort in that, to finally release the stress of what it means to have all this information of the world and not belong in it but you are still human, you have needs to fulfil and ‘dying’ is not one of them. 
It was time to cut Thoma off, it hurt because you knew it would hurt him but it would be better this way. That night you closed your eyes to rest, determined on your new path but gut wrenching in a myriad of emotions, fear, pressure, uncertainty, sadness. You haven't slept well ever since coming to this world and that night was no different. You fell asleep cursing the ground you walk on, cursing the details that swamped your mind, cursing your very existence and the trouble it causes to both this world and yourself. 
Separating yourself from Thoma was simple, firstly you changed your shopping time, no longer ‘coincidentally’ meeting with him like you had these last few weeks. Secondly, you asked your boss for more work, that way you have an excuse. You aren't a ‘bad person’ for suddenly leaving Thoma, no it’s because work has been busy and you just don't have the time. This system worked, you hadn't stumbled on him while in the city and the few times he did come to your workplace you simply told him that you were busy and needed to get back to work. This system went on for weeks and was perfect for devoiding your existence of ‘live’, which yes was depressive, you could feel yourself go mad at the amount of work you put on yourself and lack of outlet, but it worked. The extra work did help with the issue of mora as well (the value of mora being confusing ingame where how a single egg was 400 mora and yet 1 mora is represented as a single coin but you realised quickly it was just the ingame market system) which lightened the financial strain a little. You worked from early mornings to late nights, arms dead by the end of the day. In truth you know it isn't a healthy cycle, often coming home and skipping meals just to bathe and sleep, but it was necessary. 
Inazumas rains soaked the land, luckily no thunder was present but the trek from the city to nearby village was still made difficult in the wet weather. Your eyes focusing and unfocusing, legs on autodrive walking you towards a particular customer of your workplace who the boss is very fond of. The old lady you were delivering to had been coming to the bakery for years but in her age can no longer make the walk to the city. Your boss found it mandatory to provide for such a loyal customer and so your weekly walk to deliver her breads was on the way. 
In the rain was silence, just the sound of your wet shoes on the mud and the rhythmic clank of the wooden box you carried and its latch. The world began to blur, shapes and colours combining as the rain obscure your vision and the melody of your steps, the rain's patter and the wooden latch soothed your mind. Peaceful, a sleepwalk yet not unconscious. 
Peace is never retained. 
“Look, a stray lamb. Ha! The rain brings fortune indeed.” a swallowed out voice but a few steps away from you got you out of your daze. A wandering samurai, perhaps 3 all together, walked from the side of the path towards you from the river. If this had been ingame the confrontation would be nothing more but an annoyance, 4 ‘characters’ to choose from to easily snuff them out or the option to just run away until they gave up chase. In reality this confrontation means little less than a deathly denouement. Heavily armed, well trained men with seemingly no morals and a thirst for sick entertainment against a human bering no vision, a basket of bread and a fatigued body leaves little wonder as to how this will end. Panic arose at the realisation, the very human phenomenon of ‘fight or flight’ kicking in, and as a baby bird strives to the air you push off your feet, adrenaline quickly awakening your senses and urged your body to a change of direction and just as a fledgling's first flight you fall. Hard. Your mind may have awoken but your body had not caught the message, instead you lay your head in the dirt, all motive diminished, just your sad existence lay bare for a bunch of hostile mobs, stupid coding of copy paste enemies, to take your life. In all honesty this is perfect, you wish to retain as accurate to an npc life as possible? What better way than to die a meaningless death. That brought enough comfort to you to allow yourself to close your eyes (disregarding the other factors such as shock, exhaustion and most likely a concussion from the fall)
Perhaps a few of your questions will be answered now, if you die here will you reawaken into your own world? Will the months of lifetime in this fictitious game be nothing but a dream or will you truly die and merely sink into the mud as nothing more than a mistake upon this world? Neither as it seems the feeling of the rain pelting on your body ended, the sounds of swords being drawn and clashing washed away and your head, though still paining, layed on something far more welcoming than wet earth. 
“Are you regaining consciousness then?” you feel hands lean your body up, a hand moving you face side to side prompting your eyes to open. They are met with the analytically eyes of Ayato still looking over your features for whatever wear and tear you may have gathered. 
“To have fallen so gracefully in such a life threatening moment, truly your abilities are unmatched to any I have seen before. I am surprised you garner such mud and bruising, I had expected you to be dressed in only the most comfortable of clothing by the way you so effortlessly went to rest.” Oh for fucks sake-
You properly awaken, now relying on your own balance to stay sitting upright and Ayato moving his hands away only to have his eyes peering closer to you. You swipe at your face, lumps of mud clinging to your hand in turn. You heave a sigh just to gather yourself for a moment before speaking. 
“What happened? Why would you be here if it means I'm not dead? Ah- sorry,” you jumped into accusations before even giving thanks, not suspicious in the slightest, “my head is still sore. Sorry, I must thank you for rescuing me, I would be dead if not for you.” 
Ayato hummed and nodded his head. “To answer your question, I was on my way to the city before the rain started, not wanting to get wet. I waited here under this shelter until I saw you stumble right into that group of noboshira and now we are sat here. As for your apology, it's accepted, you are welcome.” 
Why was he acting like this? Mischievous sure but with a slight hint of pride or cockiness in vulgar terms. Sure he's a noble but usually he adores the ‘polite lord’ act rather than ‘cocky aristocrat’. His attitude reminded you of how he interacts with those he deems ‘close’ rather than a stranger he's met only once. Yes you are close with Thoma which may influence how he sees you but surely not to the extent of you two being ‘close’ in turn. 
And still you must play the fool, be gracious and oblivious like you could never tell between his mask and his true face. 
“Thank you so much Lord Ayato, truly you've saved my life.” 
You stand to bow, to leave but he holds your wrist at the movement.
“Do not move so hastily now, the rain is still ongoing and I would not like to see a recurrence of you laying in the mud, no matter how amusing the first time may have been. Do sit back down.”
No denying that, no matter how much you wanted to make distance between the two of you, trying to run away would only cause more problems. You sit back down on the bench, a rickety structure just outside the village with hardly enough space for two. You look to the ground at your feet, watching as rain drops just a few inches away. Ayato sighs, made clear you have no intent of starting a conversation. Perhaps his political side kicks back in, going blunt and straight to the point. 
“You have been avoiding Thoma these last weeks, he's become distressed at the idea he's done something wrong.” you do not reply. 
“Is it because of my involvement? I understand you may be pressured by our difference in class but both Thoma and I have made it clear that should not be a problem when in private so why is it you fear me? I have seen those intimidated by my title but your anxiety runs deeper than that. I personally don't care as much but if it distracts your relation with Thoma then I suggest it should be dealt with.”
This questioning is unnerving, it is tearing right to the point where the only truth is to reveal the true origin of your situation. That cannot happen so you reply with what you usually do, not exactly a lie but a truth wrapped along with missing context. 
You fake a sigh, “My Lord I am… I am an introverted person by nature. When Thoma approached me I- I accepted his conversations not to be rude and i do genuinely enjoy being with him but i- he's a social person, I knew he was and it was uncomfortable for me to get involved but I tried it's just the moment I met with someone such as yourself, someone so… powerful I realised just how large his social circle is. I can't keep it up, being with him means being with others and I can't handle that.” it was the truth, yes you played it up a bit but hopefully it's an explanation Ayato would accept. 
“So you do not consider your friendship special enough to warrant such efforts?” 
“No!” you lift your head to him, for once properly looking at him, “It is, he is special, he is special beyond your understanding it's just that… I don't fit in, I don't belong by his side and meeting you and others just proves that.”
Ayato looked at you for a moment, seemingly lost in your words, perhaps not understanding the phrasing you used but he quickly morphed back into his usual laid back but self assured look.
“Was that your decision to make?” He let out a soft huff of air and looked forward to the oncoming rain. Why did he wish to avoid the rain? Given his character trailer where he casually accepts it, his skills being water based and summoning quite literal rain not to mention the casual manner his attacks have him kneeling right into it, how could he act so off put by walking along when the storm was hardly harsh, a summer spray in truth, you wouldn't have accepted going on this delivery if the weather was any worse.
“It's comforting. Something I can appreciate both from a distance and up close. Water has a tendency of being both stubborn and flexible, it moves as it wishes and chips away at that it deems in its way. When in motion it is hard to stop, when stagnate it proves hard to move.” 
Ayato turned back to you, eyes alight with something more than just his blue hues, they appeared with a sheen, not from the gloss of tears but of something you couldn't exactly tell what it embodied. Without a character profile to read it actually is very hard to tell what goes on in his mind. 
“Such waters remind me of you. So stubborn in some label you've put yourself under and yet so quick to wash away when it is threatened. You call such a label as being ‘introverted’ but I imagine it's something more isn't it? Perhaps it is insensitive of me to get into, from Thoma I hear you've had an unfortunate past in your time as a scholar and the depths of your reason may lay there but if you truly wish to integrate into a life in Inazuma then avoiding the people you come across, myself and especially Thoma, all under the pretext of being ‘introverted’, then you will find your burdens much heavier.”
In a very storylike fashion the rains seemed to ease, droplets turning to drizzle. Ayato stood up and readjusted his coat cuffs, “At the very least explain to Thoma your reasons, I did not exaggerate when I said he has become distraught.” 
You stood in turn, head buzzing but no longer in the previous pain. You nodded to Ayato, your anxieties haven't shown any actual proof and yet you hurt someone who has shown nothing but kindness and acceptance to you, it is wrong. 
“I will, you are right.”
Ayato offered his hand to you for a hand shake, both as an untold promise to explain yourself to Thoma and as a simple goodbye gesture, you shook it with a strong resolve. 
“I look forward to hearing more about you in the future. Do keep yourself well and avoid potential naps in the mud, it's not the most comfortable of places.” he smiled at you with a cheeky glint of amusement before turning his back and walking to the direction of the city. 
You sat back down on the bench, intent on waiting out the remaining drizzle, and leaned against its wooden pillars. It's all so conflicting, when you try to do right for this world you hurt and confuse those around you, if you try to appease the people around you you risk threatening their future. You bare a cursed mind of information, a cursed existence upon this plane, it isn't right to affect others by the curse you bare but it also isn't right to devoid someone so giving as Thoma. 
You sit and contemplate until the drizzle gives way, your carry box placed by your feet filled with breads untouched by dirt and still awaiting their destination. 
Ayato strolls along the path to the city, it is not his usual reasoning for taking the trip but still a reason worth doing so. Along his path all threats had been eliminated, you should arrive just fine but it wasn't that which plagued his mind, rather it was a soft sense of amusement, a sense of glee that left him softly chuckling to himself. He adjusted the cuffs of his gloves, a sign to his Shuumatsuban in hiding that they are to leave him for a moment, once the soft shuffling of unseen ninja pass he turns is view to your direction, the distance hindering the sight, he needed a moment to himself, to gather all possible elements at play to give reason to his unspoken questions. 
“As expected, Thoma was right, they do hold some degree of depth.”.
The words Ayato left with you clung to your mind, in all this time interacting with ‘characters’ you haven't once seen anything alter the course of the world yet. Perhaps it's a twisted Butterfly effect and your actions have changed something you cannot see but Teyvat was still intact and no news of a newly declared war has come about (for whatever reasons your actions may potentially had started a war in the first place). Perhaps the time of paranoia can finally come to an end and you can ‘live' a little, truly live here if it means spending the rest of your life in this world. You also owe it to Thoma. You've done everything in your power to avoid him when he's done nothing less but show genuine interest in getting closer to you and with Ayato's words you can confirm that you've hurt him. In your time knowing him, truly knowing him, not as a character reading lines of script, not as a collection of pixels on a screen but as a real person with flesh and feelings, it's really made you appreciate him more than anything one could feel for a fictional character. Thoma is not fictional in this world and in this world he looked to you for a friendship, you lead him on in your weakness and now he has to face the loss because of your choices. Ayato was right, you truly don't have the right to make this decision but the least you can do is make up for your mistakes and keep your promises. Teyvat isn't going to fall apart just because you want a friend, what led you to think you could change the fate of the universe in the first place? Fate is a strong thing, it will not break so easily just because you exist. The rest of the ‘plot’ will go on as normal, the ‘hero’ is most likely still in Sumeru sorting out their issues and that ‘hero’ can go on and change Teyvats fate, you can sit still, live a normal life and they can keep the story going. 
You decide the best way to apologise is to show Thoma you genuinely care and the best way to do that, (other than actually talking to him) is to do what he's already established means a lot to him, make something. Thoma loves to see the effort people put into something much more than the actual execution of it. You are hardly a master baker yet he savours what you bake like it's been done by a professional, so play to your strengths. You finish your work day, inform your boss you will no longer be taking the overtime and rest for the day. Not wanting to rush into things too quickly you wait a few days and in your spare time make a batch of miso butter cookies and a simple fresh loaf of shokupan on the day you decide to meet him. It being a weekend you were off work but that also meant Thoma wouldn't be in the city, he does his trips here only during the week when he needs specific supplies for his upkeep of the clans residence. Taking a walk to the Kamisato Clan is quite the walk but you owe it to him to get this done, he can't be the one to keep chasing after you, you need to show you want to be close as well. 
You arrive midday, the walls of the clan still so daunting, and walk to the entrance where the clans guards await, noticing your presence long before you could actually stand before them. 
“Good day, I am here to deliver something to Thoma.”
The guard eyes you but responds, “He's out. If you have any deliveries you can leave them here where they will be checked before entering the clan.”
Thoma isn't here? Shit. That makes this whole thing a bust. 
“Do you know where he's gone or when he'll come back? I'd prefer to see him in person.”
“No. Please leave any packages here and-” the guard was cut off as the man of the house walked up to the entrance, Ayato offered a slight smile, perhaps to ease your nerves at the guard's menacing stance though that is his job, before turning to said guard.
“They are a guest and are welcome to the clan. Thank you for serving your duties but they are free to enter.”
The guard bowed and uttered a small, “Yes my lord.”
Ayato then stood to the side to allow you in, his arm outstretching the direction in welcoming. 
“Ayaka and I were just having tea in the break of our schedules. Please do join us.”
Well it seems you will be meeting Ayaka (for the second time), not expected, not something you were prepared for but if you are to truly let go of your worries then meeting Ayaka should not be a problem. 
You follow suit and see Ayaka sitting at the table on the outside courtyard, she smiled in greeting as you and Ayato approached. 
“It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Ayaka Kamisato.” she nodded in greeting. It's a little difficult to respond to people such as Ayaka and Ayato whom are so versed in proper Inazumaian etiquette but you've been in Inazuma for long enough to have picked up some things. You bow slightly in turn, “A pleasure as well Lady Ayaka, thank you for welcoming me to your home.” You responded in a similar way when first meeting Ayato though you imagine conversing with him from now on would be a lot more relaxed after your previous meetings. Said man indicated for you to sit beside his sister which you did, form a lot less refined compared to the pair of siblings. 
“Ayaka, this is the person Thoma has been talking about as of late. A new friend to the Kamisato Clan.”
“Oh! It's truly wonderful to put a face to a name. Thoma has spoken only positives about you. What brings you here?”
You look down to the wooden box in your hand, your apology gift. 
“I need to speak with Thoma and give him something.”
You don't even need to look at Ayato to know that he's fully aware of what your meeting with Thoma is all about.
“I see. He's gone out for a walk at the moment but should be back soon. Anyway,” it felt like ice drawn at the blunt way she changed the topic. She quickly turned back to Ayato, more specifically the paper in her hands, with a look of true delight on her face. 
“The travellers' tales of Sumeru are incredible! Such a different place but the stories they are embarking on are memorising.” her eyes had a sheen to them, not the gloss of tears but of something you couldn't exactly tell what it embodied. 
“Their letter details so much, the food, the culture, the people as well as all the situations they've ended up in.” she giggles, lifting her hand to cover her joy but not truly caring about it since she was in such comfortable company which is… odd considering you just met. 
Ayato looks at you with a quick strained smile, almost to say, ‘sorry she's overlooking you’ but quickly returned to paying his attention to Ayaka. 
“I am not surprised they often find themself in trouble haha though it is good to know they are enjoying their time there. Do they mention when they may return to Inazuma?”
Ayaka looks slightly dejected at that, “No. They say they need to stay in Sumeru for now but will come to the next major festival if they can.” she takes a deep breath in and releases it. “I hope it's soon. I want to hear all these stories from their mouth rather than just as words on a page.”
So Ayaka also has that ‘crush’ on the traveller which was very heavily implied in the game. That must be the reason she is so relaxed and open with her emotions here. 
She looked back down at the letter, a soft smile developing. “I hear Yoimiya is planning on taking a trip to Sumeru in the future, perhaps I can ask her to deliver a token from me to the traveller while she is there.”
Ayato's smile remained as always listening to his sister but the small crinkle of the wrinkles by his eyes increased slightly for but a moment before relaxing. His wrinkles… a pity the game models of the characters didn't implement small details such as those. It would have been interesting to see what small features the characters had ‘realistically’ that weren't shown. Would Jean have bags around her eyes? Would Albedos skin have a slight difference of texture than normal? Perhaps Cyno has a more defined tan or Xiangling having slight burn blisters on her hands from cooking and her vision? You've only had a closer look at Thoma and he was so much more ‘real’ than just a 2D image which was slightly unsettling at first but normal now. What interesting things to think about…
“How about you join her?”
Your fascination died instantly. What? No, Ayaka will NOT be joining Yoimiya, that's not how it goes. Ayaka will deny or something will stop her.
“Really? But what of my responsibilities? I don't even know if she'd accept me joining.” Exactly. 
“Do not fret, I will have your duties covered and Yoiymiya is your friend, I think she'd appreciate getting to share the trip with you. You deserve a break as well and I see no better opportunity than this.” No, no, no, no you won't because she's not going. 
Ayaka stood up, elation beaming off of her while she clutched the letter closer to her. 
“Thank you brother! Oh I must ask Yoimiya right away!” 
She bowed and made haste out the residence not even sparing you a glance, to her you were a nobody. Her mind was solely on making this trip. You sat in shock, in the past her forgetting about you would be amazing, proof of your ‘npcness’ but you only felt stunned. Ayaka doesn't go to Sumeru, only Yoiymiya does for her second story quest, Ayaka is not involved, Ayaka does not show up, Ayaka is not part of that plot!
“I'm glad she can have a chance to experience the world outside the residence though having to cover for her duties will prove tedious.” Ayato shook his head, then chuckled. “But I'm not opposed to it for this.”
Just how- how has your involvement changed this?! It must be your fault, it can only be your fault, the story has gone on exactly as it was shown in the game so why is this different? What could you have done to make Ayaka go? 
“Hmm?” Ayato noticed your silence, “Is something the matter?”
You swallow the spit that had accumulated in your mouth and regained as much composure as possible. “Yes yes I am fine I just- I just need to go have a quick walk by myself. I will be back soon.” It's all you could say. Your mind switched to autodrive in shock and walked you away, neither mind nor eyes truly focusing on anything but your legs walking you a path you've taken many times before yet never once stepped on, into the forests behind the clan house. 
Walking in the tanuki filled forest may not have been the best idea, you recall ingame how Hilichurls and Fatui mages are ‘spawned’ here yet your walk was nothing but peaceful. The sound of the stream was somewhat calming, it helped you to think logically. Just because Ayaka says she's going to go on this trip doesn't mean she actually will, something will happen that will prohibit her from going to Sumeru. She is a very important character, her absence in Inazuma may cause something terrible to happen that didn't ingame. Maybe she helps a person in need ‘canonically’ but because in this existence she leaves for Sumeru she isn't there to save said person, that person dies or many people die which could upset their families which could cause them to lose faith in the (police) which could lead to disrupt in the city which could… which could… leave blood spilt? 
You stopped your rambling thoughts, eyes zoning in on the pools of blood on the moss covered stones. Whatever caused this is nothing you should get involved in, until a sound of a strangled hiss, electro energy popping and fizzing in the air, a shriek of vengeance and then… nothing. The sound came from further ahead to the right behind a large mound, you watch to see the source, feet ready to run away as the slightest threat. Footsteps sounded and around the bend came a semi dirt covered Thoma, looking ahead with a solemn expression, seemingly dazed. His chest huffed out periodic breaths of air to regain himself and latestly wiped off his brow and took out a cloth and dabbed at the specks of blood on his clothes and arms, while doing so he turned and saw you standing motionless, eyes awide and still in semi shock. Almost instantly devastation fell upon his face, his eyes sunk in immediate sadness, he just looked at you for a second, whatever his thoughts were were his own, before quickly putting the cloth away and rushed to step towards you. 
“Please just- i'm just doing my duty, I don't mean-, i'm not…” the more he tried to justify himself the more he seemed to sink into his own hole. 
“I know this looks bad, you are the last person I'd want to see me like this but-” he took a deep breath in, steeled himself to elaborate properly, “it's to protect the clan. Fatui spies, rogue samurai, rival clans, a lot of them come here to spy on the clan or put us at risk, i'm just doing my duty and protecting the people who protect me.” he looked at you earnestly, hoping for your understanding, hoping you don't see him as a murderer, hoping to retrain the image of an amicable person but his soft smile of a plea also held the acceptance that you may not acknowledge his reasonings, that you'd turn your back and leave. 
You do understand, you do know Thoma isn't a harmless friendly face, that he can and will do what must be done for the people he cares about, it's just that… it's a little hard to easily be calmed even with that notion when the very real blood and remains of that dedication is shown spewed across the forests floor, it's not something any ‘average’ person would not react to but still, this is Thoma, he has his reasons, it was done in the name of goodwill and he's trying to explain it to you. 
You take a few steps towards him and offer a hesitant smile, “I get it, I don't see you as any less than before.”
Before you even regain your senses properly you feel his arms around you, tight and secure, his hand cupping the back of your head and hiding his face in your shoulder, so desperate to have the reassurance that it's okay but still hesitant to look at you, like you may change your mind. 
“Thank you… archons above I was worried I've scared you. My word, that's the last thing I'd want…” she shook his head slightly, took one last deep breath and moved back up, his hands grasping your shoulders lightly, you could see his face up close now and he finally allowed himself to look at you, his face held a smile. “I am so happy to see you!” the heavy atmosphere diminished as Thomas usual radiance shone, “Haha, what are you doing here? It's been ages, the last place I thought I'd see you was all the way here.”
“Oh yeah, I actually came to apologise about that, about being distant. It wasn't right of me to just cut you off, I'm sorry.”
He stayed silent, only looking at you, his eyes softened and nose wrinkled in his genuine expression of embrace. “Dont worry about it, I was clingy, I'm just glad to know you are here now. I'm really happy about that.” he chuckled and shifted his weight to point you back up the path to the Kamisato residence. 
“Let's go catch up shall we?”
On the walk back up you explained to Thoma your ‘reason’ for avoiding him (your half lie, half truth reason), the same one you told Ayato. You are shy and get intimidated by how social he is. Thoma nodded at your explanation, expressed his apologies for not noticing your discomfort and promised from now on he'll be more aware when you are together and not encourage meeting with others you aren't comfortable with. The walk was nice, a bit strained because of the topic but after all the knots had been loosened it felt good to be relaxed with him again. 
You two entered the Yashiro court again, Ayato still sat at the table reading through some papers. Thoma turned to you, “Oh sorry, meeting with Ayato was one of the things that made you uncomfortable right? We could go somewhere else to catch up?”
“No it's alright, I met with him earlier when I arrived. I told him I'd return so it would be rude not to haha.”
The noise must have alerted said man, Ayato peaked his head up and greeted the both of you with a smile as you walked towards him and sat down.
“The both of you have returned safely from your walks then, it's good to see. How was it?”
Thoma hesitantly chuckled, “Haha, came across some trouble but nothing I can't iron out. Otherwise we just had a little talk.”
Ayato nodded and hummed.
You remember your carrier box filled with the apology gifts for Thoma and opened it.
“Thoma, I made some more biscuits and bread and wanted to give them to you, to further state my apology.”
“oh? Perfect then, we can have them with tea.” Ayato must have had someone refill the teapot while you were away as Thoma poured you both cups of steamed golden liquid and refilled Ayatos. Thoma took a biscuit and devoured it in delight, did he always over exaggerate when eating the things you baked or was his reaction authentic? 
“Ayato, would you like one? They really are divine.”
“No thank you. It would be wrong of me to strip you of your joy haha.”
It was odd but so welcoming to be able to have a casual conversation with the two. It seemed easy to get lost in Thomas stories, he seemed fully invested in everything he spoke of and when listening he truly captured every word. Ayato, though not as vocal as Thoma when he did speak his words were like a maze you'd have to do a small mental puzzle to understand if they were a wise response or a guileful remark coming from his teasing nature. Though harder to understand, Ayato's words were still a welcoming part of the conversation as the three of you went on to drink and share. 
Ayato shuffled his papers, putting them to the side, even on his supposed break he was reading through documents, Thoma hummed, took a quick look around then returned his gaze on Ayato.
“Where is Lady Ayaka? I thought you two were having this tea break to discuss something.”
Oh wait… Ayaka…
“Yes, she received a letter from the traveller today and was eager to share it, haha she truly is fascinated with that adventurer. She's not here at the moment however, she's gone to speak with Yoimiya. She says Yoimiya will be taking a trip to Sumeru in the future and has gone to ask if she may join.”
“Oh that's wonderful!-” Thoma hesitated, “Oh but doesn't she have some important meetings lined up these coming months with the shrine? There were those exchanges that need to be made, some deliberations about the upcoming festivals… as supportive as I am about her going on a trip, it doesn't seem doable with just how much is installed for these next 3 or 4 months.”
Oh Thoma you are truly a blessing, not only are you a true friend but you reestablished that the ‘plot’ wont change. You mouth a soundless thanks to him. 
Ayato hummed and tapped his quill* rhythmically on the table. “That is true but I want Ayaka to enjoy her years and not only focus herself on clan affairs, this trip is a good first opportunity to see the world outside Inazuma and with Yoiymiya as her travel partner I do not doubt they will have a good time. As for the workload-” Ayato reached over to the paper stack and shifted through them, “I was busying myself with planning and rearranging the meetings and visits she had in the time I expect her departure will be. It is more work but it will be rewarding, you'll see.”
Thoma seemed confused, it seemed from the look on his face he was doing the same as you when it comes to Ayato's words, figuring out the puzzle but if there was an underlying meaning to his words you didn't detect them, Ayato was simply stating facts and expectations yet Thomas silence ment he was looking for more than just that. Whatever mental games Thoma was tackling he must have failed, he chuckled and melted back into his relaxed self. 
“I'm glad then, it will be good for her.”
No… no this isn't right. There will be something, something will stop her from going, there must be. 
“mhm, I only await to hear back from her and her meet with Yoiymiya, I don't see any reason why she would decline.”
Yoiymiya will decline, she will, she must. 
“oh? Are you okay?” Ayato looks at you in concern, he puts his quill* down and gives you his full attention. 
“Is something the matter? Whatever it is, I am sure we can address it.”
“No, no its okay I just realised- I had some serious stuff to do for work which i've forgotten.” 
Ayato's face turns to mock surprise, you know he didn't believe you but he doesn't comment on it, Thoma does the same but you can detect the small quiver of his smile in disappointment that you are leaving so soon.
“Oh dear! Do you need help getting back home?”
“no no, i'll be fine thank you” you rush to stand up and then smile down to the two. “Thank you for today but I must go. Enjoy your afternoon.” you rush pleasantries and are out the gate before the two could press you further on your actions. 
You've done it again, you came here to try to fix things but you've just made a mess. You can try to fix it tomorrow, for now the more pressing thoughts of the potential Sumeru trip Ayaka will go on drowned out any other thoughts. You walk home rushed, the long walk not helping much to ease your nerves, you can only hope fate will prevail and Ayaka will stay in Inazuma. 
Ayato and Thoma sat in silence as you left, mutual understanding of the odd nature of your departure yet not wanting to address it.
“So… your ‘walk’ was fruitful then?”
“Just a few stray Hilichurls and a Fatui mage but it's been sorted.”
“Thoma, you know securing the perimeter is not part of your duties, you needn't lie about the reasoning for going out.”
Thoma did not respond. 
Ayato breathed in deeply, “I am not opposed to you going out to release your emotions but I worry you may get caught up in them only to further feed into your obsessions.”
“I'm not obsessed! I'm just-” he grit his teeth in his own turmoil, “I don't want to label these feelings as ‘obsession’, that wouldn't be right to them. I don't know, I still don't know. When they stopped talking to me it felt like I'd lose them forever, that everyday I don’t see them with my own eyes is a day that they may disappear and I know that sounds obsessive but… but I don't want to call it that. I just don't…”
Ayato soaked up his friend's words like a sponge and as always his responses were either clear or muddled with undertone, this time Thoma could tell instantly Ayato's words were transparent.
“You need not worry yourself about labelling your feelings then, you two are back in contact and there is still a future for you to explore what the emotions you are holding mean. Just do not lose sight of your health and those around you, even obsession can be tamed. “
The next few months were both easier and harder than the times you were avoiding Thoma. Sure, you lessened your workload and your health improved, you stayed in contact with Thoma, not as much as before but still enough to bond over. It was good to have a friend again and the feeling was mutual, every time you did meet he seemed eager to enjoy it to its fullest. You had even met with Ayato a few more times, never to the extent of Thoma but at least it became comfortable to sit and have tea with the both of them in a relaxed manner but that was the positives, the looming threat of Ayaka changing the plot was a heavy cloud always looming. The few occasions she saw you she was cordial and respectful but her interest glossed right over like you didn't even exist. She and Yoimiya made plans, fulfilled the work she could and now here you stand on the beach you woke up on exactly 2 years ago, 2 years since you randomly came to be here in Teyvat, the same day fate was changed and both Yoimiya and Ayaka were set sail for Sumeru. 
In blunt terms, youve fucked up. This was pure proof of your paranoia, this was proof your existence can cause the plot to change and the realisation of just how helpless you are in this situation dawned on you. The very act of your existence, whether you interact with those deemed ‘special’ or not, can and will change the story and you can only wonder if it will end well or if you've led something to doom. 
It's not fair, it's not fair at all. Even though you've been friendly with Thoma recently it's not like you can truly confide in him and he's just a painful reminder of your mistakes. The burden of wearing this responsibility, one you didn't even know how to fulfil, one you failed to fulfil, it's unfair. You are only human, you have needs to fulfil and ‘dying’ isn't one of them…
But 
But is it moral to be so selfish as to care about your own being when putting the risk of others on the line? Ayaka is gone from Inazuma, just how many people was she meant to interact with if she stayed? How will her presence in Sumeru affect the story? If you guess right the ‘hero' should be done with the main quest of Sumeru if it means Yoimiyas story quest can start but what if something happens that prohibits the plot for future stories? What of Ayakas presence delays the ‘hero’, even for a minute, in which that minute was originally meant for something in the greater scheme of things? 
This is awful… this isn't right. Not only has living become so difficult because of the constant nagging of anxieties and worries but you also have the potential to be responsible for disaster simply by existing. 
It isn't right… it isn't right you afflict this world with your existence and the threat it brings. 
Two years ago when you awoke on this beach you hoped to retain a normal life, perhaps find a way back home but at the very least, set up a life for yourself, an npc life but at least something. It's only fitting that you felt you had to come here, to kneel in the sand and watch how its granules slip through your fingers, it's because you exist that this sand is moving… it's only fitting that you finally come to the conclusion that you must die while being here. This is the place of your ‘birth’ into this world, perhaps it can be the place of your death as well. Not ‘death’, not some convoluted meaning of ‘dying' and becoming a new person, no you need to die. You need to die to ensure the people of Teyvat can remain on course. You are the virus here, you are the disease you need… you need to die.
Tears ran down your cheeks at such a resolute statement, sure youve thought about it all but now and truly you've decided that this is it, that you must do this. It's not like you want to die, not on a personal scale, but on a mental and emotional scale all this is too much, too much to bear and too much to live through. 
It's not fair to leave the people you've so selfishly afflicted with your presence without giving them a reason but you are too much of a coward to tell it to their face. It wouldnt go well if you were to stand infront of Thoma and tell him you were going to kill yourself, thats for sure but at the very least he could get some form of an explanation. 
You decide tonight is not the night you die, that would be tomorrow, you stand up from the ground and walk home, the weight of your choice still as raw as the moment you decide it, death is no light matter after all. 
You get home, a small space a person like yourself could afford, only the basics of furniture and 2 rooms. There under your door lay a letter, you pick it up and sit at your table where unblemished paper sat to become future suicide notes. Taking a look at the letter it was sealed in wax, the crest of the Kamisato Clan dug into its mass. 
You open it,
‘Dearist   XXXX
May this letter find you well. Both Thoma and myself wish to invite you for a stay at the Kamisato Clan as both a guest and a friend. The changing season brings a beautiful opportunity to witness it first hand as the trees take on their new hues and the oceans change their tides, you are welcomed to join us. Thoma sends his best wishes but asks for them to properly be said in person rather than in post. We eagerly await your response. 
Signed
Ayato’
Haha… how casual for a man like him… haha… haha here you are preparing to write letters announcing your death to them and yet they think only of including you in their lives. Haha… how horrible, how utterly vile it is to be able to experience emotions such as these. These feelings only prove your point more. You put the letter to the side and stared blankly at the response you are going to reply with, oh of only it were as optimistic and welcoming as theirs was.
You tried to make it easy for both yourself and those intended to read it. You state that the mistakes of your past have lay heavy on you and that death is the only relief, that you are sorry you cannot return the sentiment of friendship and must lay your mistakes to rest.
To Thoma you leave a more personal note, telling him that he made your life here in Inazuma so much better, that it was only in the moments with him you forgot your ‘mistakes’ for even a moment and for that you are grateful. It's true, it's only Thoma who made you forget the fact you don't belong here when you spend time with him. Sending this letter to him is assured to rip his heart, he sees you as a friend and he's going to beat himself at the thought that he did not help you enough to make you feel you'd want to stay, that he wasn't a good friend, which is not true at all but you know there is little you can do to convince him otherwise. In a moment of distressed induced vulnerability, with tears in your eyes you state something so cliche as that perhaps in another life you two may be able to have the friendship you both craved in this life, if only there is a case of reincarnation and you may be born in the same universe as him and live that life with no burdens or guilt of your existence. 
To Ayato you are more cordial, less emotional or descriptive but you tell him that he was right on that day in the rain, that there is a deeper problem than you just being ‘introverted’, otherwise you keep it professional. 
After the hardest two were done it was rather simple, it's not like you have any friends or family to write to and sending a letter to the street vendor you buy from doesnt make sense. You do write a letter and tell your boss that you simply will not be returning to work, you don't say why, and that you thank him for all the opportunities and help he has given you. 
For once it was easy to fall asleep, for the first time in 2 years the moment you lay your head on your pillow you were unconscious. For once you've felt the release of the burden you feel and the comfort that will come when your plague on this world is done. You are so tired and finally you can rest. 
The next day went on simply, it was a weekday and you went to work, in the afternoon you submitted your letters to the post and walked back home, taking in the scenery of Inazuma. This will be the last time you walk these streets. You wait at home quietly, have a decent meal and enjoy the sounds from outside of leaves and people. You felt in an odd state all the way through the day, like your senses were hypersensitive noticing the slightest thing around you which was lovely. You got to focus on the squirrles you passed on your way to work, the smell of baked bread smelled heavenly once again like it had the first day you were in the bakery, the pink and purple blossoms of the trees were so vibrant on your way home. You had given the shop vendor a smile and a wave as you passed her, that day you felt no burden, no grief. You only had one more step to take, the hard part was already over with. 
In the late evening you stood by that beach again, the view was incredible. You sat down in the sand and got comfortable leaning against a rock and letting the tide touch the tips of your toes. You were naughty today, you bought enough substances from clinics or herb stands to be sure you felt good in your last moments. You took them quickly and then rested your head back against the rock, letting the sound of waves softly crashing, leaves rustling and the odd animal chirp lull your mind. It took some effort not to fall asleep just yet, you blinked your eyes harshly and woke yourself up a bit. This part was slightly uncomfortable, the beach you woke up on had a slight cliff, nothing you'd die by jumping off of, it was just a little steep incline but it was enough. You took a large rock from nearby and rolled it closer to the edge, tying a rope around and around your ankle. Drowning didn't seem like a peaceful death but at least like this your body can be washed into the sea where it can decay in peace without traumatising a random person strolling the beach. You relaxed and took out the large knife you had brought with you. Bleeding out decreases the time by knocking yourself out and not having enough energy to wake up in the water and struggle. You should be numb enough now. You closed your eyes and cut lengthwise, both arms, a leg… you tried your neck but even drugged up that was beyond doable. You didn't even register when you had stopped, you didn't see the blood flowing or feel the pain as it pooled, slowly your will died out as everything became hazed. It was a feeling, not a good or bad one, you couldn't even think. You felt the weight on your ankle tug, your consciousness dropping and allowing the gravity to pull you away. Black. 
You woke up. You woke up. Dazed, in pain but you did. Your eyes opened lightly, luckily it wasn't very bright. Slowly your mind awoke as well, you saw the walls and crest oh so familiar of the Kamisato Clan, of its low light lanterns on the floor and dark wood trims. What were you doing here? What were you even doing?
Each of your senses woke up from the shock they were in and soon your ears picked up sound, at first the static was all you could hear until it was voices. You inclined your head to where the sound came from. Thoma and Ayato sat at a table, what they were talking about was inaudible. Why? Why were you here? 
Everything slowly came back to you, what you did, why you did it and mainly the fact that you should be dead right now and yet you were here. Panic arose which was enough adrenaline to push your body and mind completely awake. You shuffled up and looked at the two. Thoma turned at the movement and instantly reached out for you, arms cradling your head which he buried his to your shoulder, a grasp seeking for comfort yet trying to give support.
“Archons above you're awake. My word… oh my word…,” he softly cried into your shoulder but picked his head up to look at you, “Why?! Why did you do that? Why did you feel…” his face was morphed into true distress, his eyes red and slightly swollen from no doubt a long time of distress but renewed with fresh tears. “Please, you are here, you are here and yet you wanted to go-” he choked, “Why, I nearly lost you.” his head fell back down to rest onto you, “I nearly lost you…”
His arms held you tightly, confirming that you were there. 
Ayato finally announced himself with a soft clear of his throat, he stayed sitting at a distance. 
“Thoma, they are safe and alive. We confirmed this the moment we got them here. “ he took a moment, thinking over his words. “How about you go prepare us a pot of tea and eats and we can discuss this once we all have gathered ourselves?”
Thoma lifted himself back up, “yes… yes you are right” he gave you a squeeze and a haste kiss on the crown of your head before standing and giving you a very strained smile, ‘everything is going to be okay’ it read. Quickly he turned and sped walked out as if staying in the room for too long would prohibit him from ever leaving you. Now it was just you and Ayato. 
“Come sit please or do you need assistance getting up?” 
You look down at your body, arms and legs patched up in bandages and feeling weak but with a struggled attempt you found you could stand up and walk to him before nearly falling into a sitting position and looking at him. He knows what's happened, he knows the aftermath and you don't. 
Ayato sighed and shifted at papers on his desk, 2 in particular, the ones you had sent out. 
“We got these well after we had saved you from your incident,” he looked up to you with something of a harsh look, “you can thank the fact one of my shibatsu were watching and stopped you from falling and promptly brought you here.” 
He sighed, closed his eyes tense for a moment then released and folded the papers neatly. He returned his gaze back to you. 
“I know, or at least suspect, what elements are at play here. The identity you have made for yourself here as an ex Sumeru scholar, that is false, correct?”
How… How did he figure that out? 
“You need to speak now, for your and Thomas' betterment. No more lies, no more half trues, no more hiding because after an event such as the one you pulled yesterday I will no longer allow such threats so please, speak.”
You opened your mouth, it felt hoarse and sore. This is it. No more hiding, no more rules or running away, he can see it all, he will know, he probably does already. 
“Yes.” is all you say.
An odd assortment of a smile crosses his face, not happy but at least pleased for the development, he then went back to his blunt nature.
“I will even be so bold as to say you are not here from Teyvat, correct?”
“Yes” tears built at your eyes. 2 years of work gone, 2 years of struggling to keep the truth bound, the thing you tried to die for to keep all gone. 
“There are matters I do not understand, such as the truth of the reason for your attempt yesterday but what I do know is that you are not of Teyvat, that the way my sister looks at the Traveller is the exact same way Thoma looks at you, bewitched by some foreign entity.”
What? 
“I know that the Traveller is not of Teyvat, they themself have stated this to both Ayaka and myself and it was a stretch at first to make the claim you were the same as them for the simple reason that Thoma fell for you as Ayaka did for the traveller but what perhaps confirmed my suspicion was when I felt that pull as well. For some reason the way my sister described her fondness for the traveller it was only you I could imagine, when I saw Thomas eyes alight in excitement at seeing you I could tell exactly what it is since I feel the same. For nearly no reason this feeling appeared.”
He cleared his throat and continued, “I didn't only come to this conclusion based on feeling, I, as I do with all those who involve themself with the members of the clan, had research done into your past. There is no record of your existence in any school of Sumeru, there is no record of anything proving of your past, no family line or even record of you arriving by boat which is all recorded by name, yours were on no such documents.”
He sighs and then relaxes his shoulders, like he is glad he's gotten the hard part over.
“Do not worry, I can assure you I see you no less as I did before and I can promise that Thoma is the same, he in fact needs to know the truth. I have not told him of my own discoveries just yet but when he gets back I hope you reveal the light of truth on everything here and the burden you decided to relieve yourself of.”
It's hard to actually listen to him, you are too busy swimming through the currents of your own thoughts to really hear what he has to say, if you had you'd have noticed just how fond he really was being, the slight curve of his forehead in concern, the way he spoke in a tone confident but also reassuring. Ayato is a man who puts his family, friends and the clan first, even in this instance he was doing that, whatever his personal feelings on the matter were they were subdued. 
You look down to the table and see the fruits of your labour, sour, distasteful fruits that bore no other purpose but to make one sick on consumption: your letters. It seemed a good idea at first but now the sight of your handwriting was nauseating, you couldn't even bare properly rereading it, to see those words you meant to be comforting only being a stain and reminder to the people who had to read them of the bilious nature of your actions. Poor Thoma…
You had no words for Ayato, not out of fear or resentment but simply because it felt like you had disappointed him, the only way you could try to make this all better is to come clean about everything, he's made it clear, there is no more hiding. Now the weighting doom of changing the course of fate didn't matter, what mattered is the crestfallen frown on his face and mellow gaze, what mattered was the troubled Thoma in the other room whom grasped at you to stay so tightly even through all the torment you've lead him though. It's over, not the good kind of ‘over' like dying would have been, your life would be over and the secrets and threat you bring would have been over, no the ‘over’ you experience is the loss of hope. Its over, all the attempts and work, the secrets and efforts made to try keep this world as safe from changing as possible was all over. 
Ayato let you mull in silence, he cleared his desk and closed his eyes in wait. Not long after Thoma returned, kettle in hand and cups at the ready. He seemed quiet, more collected and focused on the task of pouring tea before sitting next to you, his folded knee jutting up and down being the only show of his nerves. He took a breath, turned to you and smiled. 
“I really do just want you to know I am happy you are still here, that I want to give you all the support and care I can to make sure you know you being here is just so important. I know that I don't understand everything you've gone through and that me saying all this doesn't help make it easier but-” he had to grit his teeth, his voice stirred slightly and slight beads of tears brimmed at his eyes,”but you don't have to be alone. Right now or even dealing with your past, you don't have to be alone.”
Your breathing hitched, chest lurched and fresh tears escaped, how couldn't you? You tried to cover your mouth of noises but couldn't help but curl into yourself and cry, you don't want to do this anymore, you want his support, you want to confide in him, you want to live. Thoma rubbed your back while you cried, gentle reaffirming strokes and just let you release all the build up. After regaining yourself you lifted yourself back up, swallowed the last fragments of tears and tried to secure yourself. You took some breaths and calmed down. Thoma held your shoulder, a physical display of support, you looked up and only saw Ayato watching with an unreadable expression. Right, you need to come clean. To… get it over with…
“Thoma, thank you for this, I'm sorry, I really am.” You could tell he tried to speak, to tell you it's okay or not your fault or something along those lines but he kept himself quiet and let you speak.
“I’ll… I'll come clean about it all, about everything.” This is it. “I'm not originally from Teyvat, I believe you know the Traveller and how they aren't either? Yeah I'm something like that. So no, I'm not from Sumeru or have lived here my whole life. Just woke up one day from my world into this one and… that was that. No explanation, no guide, no help…”
Ayato had no reaction, he knew, Thoma was wide eyed in shock but stayed silent, to him you shared memories of your ‘past’, to hear what you have shared with him was wrapped in falsification was… hurtful to know that what he did know of you was all a lie in his eyes but still, he remained silent and let you continue. 
“I'm sorry, I am. I didn't want to lie and a lot of the stuff I did say is true. I just… I just covered it up to match my story of being from Sumeru.”
“It-It must be hard” Thoma meekly said, “to have lost everything, your home and family… I can see why things have been so hard and confusing for you.”
You nodded to his words. It is hard, it is bloody hard. All the plans you had made for your future, your loved ones and hopes… you'll never get to see them bloom, you'll never get to see the person you hoped you'd become because you had been stripped away from everything. The extra layer of knowing what world you came into and the threat you caused of course did not help lighten the load. 
You've been away for 2 years and there is no hope of going back but you are here now and have to deal with the present.
“So that's basically it.” 
Ayato's frown deepened, “There is more.” his words cut through the air bluntly. “There is more to the story you haven't told us, many things that don't add up-”
“Ayato please,” Thoma interrupted him, “let them say what they need and-”
“No, they said they would clear things up here and I will make sure it is so.” he moved his gaze back to you, it was penetrating into your soul nearly emotionlessly. “So I will ask, what is the truth to your ‘introvert’ label? Why distance yourself from others at random when in your position you are needing as much support as possible?”
Shit… shit shit shit, you can't even keep this? You can't even keep the fact you know this is a game secret? Whatever… he's right, you said you'd come clean. 
“... I know things I really shouldn't if I was to make a life here. It may be confusing but in short the world of Teyvat is not where I was born but I know of it, I know of its people and some of its history and even select parts of its future. I was just… trying not to change the story. I was never supposed to be here, me being here goes against what's supposed to happen- I was scared I'd change something and things would go bad, that the good endings won't happen because I've done something so I tried to distance myself from it all but i've failed! I've failed and the story has changed and I don't know what's going to happen next!” 
Thoma was quiet, now this was a bit too much for him to respond to but predicting the unpredictable is Ayato's strong suit, he didn't falter his questioning even at such a bizarre statement such as the one you made.
“Why? What element has changed that pushes you to believe you’ve doomed this world?”
“Ayaka left! She's not supposed to! I don't know how or why me existing changed the story but Ayaka was supposed to stay here in Inazuma and only Yoiymiya goes to Sumeru. Now its all wrong and I don't know just what else i've affected.”
Silence for a moment, Thoma still doing his best to soak in everything while Ayato shifted his gaze away from you, when he spoke he still refused to look you in the eye. “Hmm, seems your paranoia was proven right then, it is your presence that has changed the future you believe was to take place and in truth the fault is mine.”  He looked back at you, “See when I heard of Ayakas excitement in the potential trip to Sumeru I thought it would be a great opportunity, not only for her to gain new experiences but also to ask you something i've had my mind on for a while.” Thoma perked at this, recognising what Ayato was referring to.
“I had hoped to ask you to extend your services to the Kamisato clan, in whatever element suited you, I assume in the kitchen though Thoma did not disagree with the idea of potentially aiding him in his duties.” What? He wanted you to join the clan? Why? Like reading your mind he answered your unspoken questions, “See I thought you being stationed here may help the issue you seemed to have about your ‘introvertness’ with Thoma as well as providing a fresh start for you to reforge your relation with him, of course this would all be a suggestion and if you didn't agree then there is no loss and you can simply continue as you were. That is why I encouraged Ayaka to go, not only for herself but to allow you some space to get used to the idea of potentially staying here.” So that's why… but still, why?!
Thoma interrupted your thoughts, a fresh wave of excitement running through him, “But it's okay now! Now you've let us know everything and sure it's a little hard for me to understand right now but things have been cleared up and everything can go back to normal! We can work on things together and you can rely on us for help so all the other stuff can just be put to the side for now.”
“I must disagree with that Thoma, things cannot go back to normal.” Both you and Thoma turned to Ayato for his explanation, “See they have brought forth an issue, if there is supposedly a prewritten fate we follow and such story has a good end, that their influence can change such story and has already proven to do so then… that is something to consider as a threat.”
“What? No, Ayato-”
“Thoma, I am not suggesting we take the route they tried, their death is not a solution but rather I suggest the best way to reduce the effect they have is to narrow the area of impact of their presence.” Thoma sat himself back down and listened, his ability to understand Ayato far surpassed your own, you only heard his words, Thoma was on the same scale as him. “Ah, so you suggest they stay here?”
Huh? No, that still doesn't solve the issue though! You are still going to change stuff, being in the clan may make it even worse!
“I'm sorry but that can't happen!” you state, you cant let them doom themselves,”I can't stay here, you've seen I change the things around me so me being here is not a solution.”
“And what do you suggest then? Death is not an answer. Wherever you go you will impact the environment around you, is it not wise to be in an area that is accustomed to handling threats and problems? To be within the vicinity and means of a place such as here with people like Ayaka and myself whom can negate such issues? That is even under the assumption you can cause damage with your existence, all we know is that you can change this supposed ‘plot’ but have you seen any actual harm come from it?”
Your silence answers him.
“Right, though it is important to be concerned and prepared. Staying here is no prison I can assure you,” his smile brightens up to a chuckle “in fact my original plan was for it to be a holiday for you. The environment is interesting to explore, there is much you can learn from the people here and most of all friends who are willing to show you support which it seems you so desperately need. To me there is no questioning it, staying here is the best course of action for you.”
You could have thought up a retort, some explanation as to why he was wrong and why going back to your ‘normal’ life was better but there is a certain air around Ayato in moments like this where doubting his reasoning is unheard of and denying them is impossible. He was right, he's always right after all. 
“Are you sure? Are you sure this is all… this is all okay? Is me being here okay?”
“For further confirmation, yes it is. Thoma?”
Thoma grasped your shoulder again and leaned to your side, a great wave of support rushing from him, “I think it's an awesome plan. You don't have to worry about a thing, we’ll all have it settled for you!” 
“Right, could you go make sure their room is properly prepared? I'd imagine they need some rest after all this. A proper, peaceful sleep can do wonders to soothe the soul and you will find no safer place than under my roof. “
Thoma used your shoulder for a moment to get himself back up, “I'll be back in a jiffy okay!” and made a quick pass to the backrooms. 
You and Ayato watched him go in silence, when he was out of sight and out of earshot Ayato repositioned himself.
“He does not know about the foreign effect you may have on him. Once again it is only a theory to suggest that just because you and the Traveller are not of Teyvat you have some bewitching effect but there are some elements of truth to such a theory, still I think it is unwise to tell him this. To tell him his feelings are fabricated would break him…” Ayato closed his eyes and sighed, he looked tired, “And it truly would be a shame to name these-those feelings as false.”
That wouldn't be good… “Okay, I won't tell him about it. … …” you really are tired, your mind isnt working as it should anymore. The adrenaline of shock has worn down and the latent feeling of exhaustion had begun to ebb its way through your very bones, at a moment of self reflection you felt your arms so much heavier to hold, legs stiffened all while the dim pain of the wounds across your body became recognisable. A good rest is what you need…
Ayato didn't say a word after, only left you to your own musings.
“It's all set up! There are fresh towels and guest clothes if you want to bathe but otherwise it was all pretty much done!” Thoma did a slight jog to your side and offered you a hand, “You need help getting there?”
You look up at him, for a room rather dim he outshone the very sun itself. “I think I just want to rest for now, i'll bathe later.” You reach up and take his hand, do a little wobble as you reconnect with the notion of having to walk, Thoma readily supplied his elbow for you to hold onto as well as you got your balance.
“Alrighty. Just hold on and don't shy away from leaning your weight on me okay? I've got you.” you two take a few tentative steps to test it out, walking seemed doable now.
“I'll send them off to bed, i'll be back shortly my lord.”
Ayato looked back at you two and gifted a smile, “Rest well then.” you did a slight nod in return. 
Even with the support of Thoma and still retaining the ability to walk the short trip down the hall seemed so much more of a struggle then it should have. Not only was your body in dull pain but your mind was simply tired, overrun and everything slowly seemed to mesh into each other. Thoma was true to his word and kept you upright, guiding you to a neatly made bed and gently easing you into the cushioning. After 2 years of a cheap bed and your most recent nap being in the sand and hardwood floor the feeling of high quality bedding was sensational, a moment of respite from feelings and thoughts. 
“You all settled in?” Thomas' voice sounded muffled in your half sleep state but you registered him with a nod. 
“I'm glad…”
The cushions you lay on shuffled, his weight sat nearby you. “You know you really did scare me there, when I saw- when you were brought here in the state you were I didn't know what to do, something so unlike me. I didn't know if I wanted to rush for medical care or just to slump down beside you and cover you.” He leaned down, his head lay on the mattress beside your shoulder, his one arm wrapped around you, an awkward hug of one person sitting and another laying down. “At least I can do this now, please just let me indulge in this for a little, everything is just a lot to take in still.” He sighed out his tension then shifted his head to lean slightly on yours. “I know this is wrong of me but in truth I can be rather selfish. I want to be selfish here and not only show you how much I care for you but also how much I love you which is wrong because… because I don't love you. It would be insensitive to both you and myself to label this obsessive feeling as ‘love’ and I don't want to do that… Only now, only now will I be a little selfish and join in the delusion that this is love.”
“but I want to make this scalding passion of deranged obsession into the soft warmth I know it can be, of genuine endearment and not just an infatuation.”
He lifted himself to finally look at you, he had tears running down his face, “So you can't go. You can't leave me until that happens. You can't leave until I can properly say I love you, okay? I'll be here every step of the way, you can lean on me, you can trust me and I'll give you my everything so please give it your all and just… keep finding the incentive to keep going.” He pursed his lips in a strained attempt of a smile, gave up on trying and instead leant back down to give the crown of your head a kiss. He got up and stood by your side. “Sleep well, I'm sure tomorrow will be the start to a beautiful new future.” He closed the door and left. 
If you had been in a more stable sense of mind there was a lot you could have responded to him, the not-so love confession, the odd descriptions of desperation and just how close he got but your mind was fazed, Thoma gave you nothing but comfort as you went to bed, he hugged you and told you it will be okay and that was nice, the feeling of the linin was nice, the chance to close your eyes was nice… He left you off with a nice feeling. 
“All is settled then?”
“Yep, they should have no problem falling asleep, they were practically already unconscious once we got there.”
Ayato laughed and Thoma sat back at his original position, by now Ayato had taken out some late night documents to go over while waiting. 
“So, did you tell them?”
“Hmm? Which part?”
“haha, your feelings Thoma, knowing you you would have.”
Thoma on reflex scratched the back of his neck and chuckled awkwardly at being so easily caught. 
“Yeah I did though with the state they were in they probably didn't hear any of it.”
“Which is why you felt you could tell them hmm?” Ayato looked up to Thoma with a knowing eye, “You are just as bad as me you know.”
“haha, have I been caught? You really can't blame me though, I learnt all my skills from you.”
“And yet at times I wonder if you are even more skilled than I when it comes to swaying one's mind.”
“yeah…” Thoma dulled off, “I'm still confused about it all. I care, that part is undoubted and all the time we spent together really means something but I just can't put my hand on all these feelings. It's not what I think love feels like, not entirely. Haaaa, all I know is that I want to be by them and I guess that will do for now until I figure it all out.” Thoma shifted his weight and got more comfortable, “What about you though? Such feelings are just disruptive to you, right?”
Ayato hummed,”Perhaps but that is nothing I can't deal with and as you can see I am dealing with it. I do hope the notion of sharing isn't distasteful to you, I know we've met a consensus about this but I want to ensure we are on the same page here. Your friendship is much too important to risk over miscommunication.”
“haha of course! Your feelings are just as valid as mine.”
“Good.” Ayato smiled fondly then returned to his papers. Thoma sighed in mock exhaustion, “That's the face you pull when you're thinking about work. Haha, I will leave you to your important papers, do not work too much and fall asleep at your desk again, okay? You don't want to be ruining your back at such a young age.”
“haha. Yes Thoma, good night.”
“Goodnight my lord, just let me know if you need anything done alright!”
“You know I will.”
Ayato shook his head at his friends teasing, it is fun when Thoma is the one responding with tauts of his own. Thoma left Ayato to his business in the slightly dimmed room. 
For as much as Thoma has grown around Ayato, for being the closest person to understand him and balance the position of respectful employee and casual friend, it is still funny to Ayato how he can still be so oblivious to things. Of course his mind is not only on work, however could it be when finally you were in his home, in his care and finally he can display his… love.
Rest is crucial for recovery, on any normal day you'd let guilt swallow you for staying in bed for as long as you have this day, waking up in the late morning and simply laying in bed till afternoon, this is peak sloth behaviour but in all you deserve it, you are on ‘holiday’ you are allowed to be a little lazy here. After waking up you had gone through quite a bit of internal conflict, between failing to ‘delete’ yourself of this world, revealing everything, going through the motions and now seemingly stuck here it's all just a lot to process. There is joy brought from the relief that you no longer must carry these burdens but also disgust that you have let the situation get to the state that it is in now. Everythings changed yet at the core nothing has. When your mind tired of thinking it just wallowed in the present feelings, how lovely the bedding is, how scenic the light looks coming from the window, how lovely the atmosphere of the room is, you had been left off with such a lovely feeling last night, odd considering the nature the night took, but for some reason everything just felt so comfortable when you let your mind just dissipated and ease into the surroundings. Eventually you figured you should get up, that there was enough strength in your legs to keep you steady. You got changed into the provided clean clothes and left to find someone to ask about getting something to eat. It's rather awkward walking these halls not knowing where you are meant to be but Thoma and Ayato said you were a guest so it should be fine. You reached the main clearing where Ayato's desk sat, where you three conversed last night, and as if nothing had changed since then Ayato was sat exactly where he had been left off, his eyes scanning papers and writing or editing others, he placed his brush down as you entered. 
“Good afrternoon, I hope you were able to sleep well. Shall I arrange for someone to prepare you a meal?”
It's still slightly odd to be casual with Ayato after last night but if this is how things are going to go from now on then you truly do need to get used to it.
“Yes and yes please, thank you.” you gave a slight bow, you can't help being awkward no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise. 
Ayato chuckled, of course he did, he saw the world in 4D compared to you, of course he found something funny. “Then please, have a seat. Any meal requirements?”
You word off your response and Ayato relays it to a staff member he calls in. After the order was completed Ayato went back to his work while also starting the conversation, hes easily noticed a pattern when it comes to your reluctance to initiate it in your own stead. 
“Now that you have some free time from work, are there any activities you'd like to try? I want you to consider your time here as a holiday and for that I will provide whatever materials you need to make that happen.”
“Oh, no. I'd just like to relax for a bit before making any plans on activities.”
“haha, I meant anything to help with that. Do let me know when you think of anything, there are very few items I cannot provide so the options are yours to demand.”
“mhm…” you nod your head but say little else. Ayato lets this slide and allows you to sit in your peace. In time a well prepared meal is brought to you, you sit to the side of the room and eat with yourself as company, as it has been for the last 2 years. 2… years… Your previous life really is just gone now, everything is gone. You don't have anything, you don't have to do anything, you don't have- no you do have some things. You have a supportive friend, Thoma, you have… Ayato perhaps? He says he will provide for you. What else do you have? 
Nothing, you cant even say you have your own life to live, you cant even do that. 
Quickly you swallow down both your thoughts and the least of your meal, you've brooded enough today doing it more won't help. You thank the person who takes what remains of your meal and then rejoin Ayato who, much to your surprise, has not left his spot (the surprise being sarcastic since it would shock no one to see the head of a clan swamped in governmental affairs). You walk back up to his table almost as if awaiting orders or just something to tell you what to do, where you should be just anything to help alleviate the concern of not being where you belong. Ayato let his brush lay back on the table, he closed his eyes and sighed as an indulgent smile graced his face. When he looked back up to where you so awkwardly stood he showed only adoration shortly broken as he shakes his head with a chuckle. 
“This may surprise you, I know this isn't the proper setting to say this,’ he stood up and made his way to you, “but I do so enjoy being unpredictable and I can't pass up on this opportunity.” he stood right in front of you, posture poised and proper but radiating only mischief. “My dear I must confess i've come to love you.”
Huh-
You feel a hand on your cheek. “There it is, what a pretty expression.”
huh…
The hand cups around your flesh, leather to skin, chill to warmth. 
“It's true. I do adore you-”
“no…”
“hmm?”
“you can't…”
“haha, really I can-”
“No. You Can't!”
You grit your teeth as you feel your hands begin to shake. He can't, he can't love you, that's too much, too much of an impact. The change, the change that could come from him LOVING you, no its too much. Your hands move to grip the arm reached to you, “you- you can't. You just- that's not how… how any, any of-” you are crying again, surprising how your body still has enough tears to shed after everything. You can't feel your legs anymore, they aren't working again, your hands are shaking, they aren't working again, you can't feel yourself breath, you are not working again. You don't register yourself fall, you only see the rise of doom again. Everything was fine, you had JUST accepted your situation but you can't accept this. This is going to change everything- it's so hard to breathe…
Ayato kneeled down with you, he held his one arm to your waist leaning you into him as his other cradled the back of your head, fingers intertwining between the strands of your hair and stroking along in a calm motion. 
“I was scared of this but I felt it best to tell you now. In truth I was devastated with the events of yesterday but held on for as much as I could to secure everyone, it is only fair I am open to you as you were with us.”
no-
“The love I have for you is true and it would be my greatest honour to support you as I do with my clan, with you as a part of the clan.”
no-
“I understand your fears, whatever concerns you have of the future changing. I want you to know I am well resourced to handle them.”
You can only cry.
“It is early for me to confess but it is my sign to you that I hope for a future where we may share such a sentiment. We can grow together and face your fears together.”
why-
His hand strokes feel reassuring…
"Your tears remind me of the rain, both comforting and disturbing. How I cringe at each drop yet yearn to hear them patter against me. My dear please do remember for each storm or drizzle you bring to me I will open my arms for whichever embrace you bring."
You lean back into him, he's got you. 
“To know you are here is reassurance enough, I want- I do love you.”
For as comforting as his hold is, for how easy it feels to accept his words it all feels murky. You lay in the sun-touched waters of the ocean, warm as it engulfs you in the most pleasing manner but it is sticky, it clings to you and you cannot shake the feeling of the undercurrent grasping at your ankle slowly leading you deeper into its embrace, it's easier to accept. 
Ayato is right, he's always right and here he is offering you his love. You have been given the best opportunity you could ever achieve considering your situation, you have been given the freedom to finally ‘live’. With Thoma supporting you and Ayato willing to address any threat that may come you have been given a beautiful new start at a paranoid free life and not only that but to be graced as to have someone love you as well? It's amazing, you are so lucky. 
“That's it my dear, I am here at your side.”
You sink into his arms, your cries can finally stop. “If we believe that tomorrow will come, we can bear a hardship today. For today, tomorrow and everyday that follows you may cry, you may hurt but you will never be alone. Alright? Do not feel pressured by my confession, I merely want to show you that you are loved.”
Ayato sighs deeply and readjusts to hold you tighter, lays his head on yours and remains quiet but the stroking of his hand never stops. The time flows by easily, your arms stop shaking, your breathing returns, you can sense your body's weight so clearly but you can feel the pillar that is Ayato keeping you up. 
"Thank you." you mumble eventually
Ayato hums in question
"Thank you for everything. thank you for… loving me"
You can feel the wide smile grace Ayato, “You needn't thank me for something so natural.”
You don't clearly register the world around you while enveloped in Ayato's hold but you can hear footsteps, someone speaking, someone sitting nearby. Ayato's shoulder is cool and refreshing, the hand that holds yours at the side is cosy and tender, you are so lucky. 
An explanation blurb for those who want to read some of the reasonings for how i went about this
Header done by me cause i felt like whipping up a quick pixel art
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carakook · 2 months
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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°
"Please don't slam the door in my face. Please just let me talk to you for a bit, I promise I'll behave."
→ Chapters list ←
⚘2. Wild Flower
🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞
╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗
⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader
⚘Synopsis: Y/N attempts to cope with the end of the affair and stay firm in her decision to go no-contact with Jungkook. Jungkook, however, is a fucking mess, and it has barely been a few days. He is going insane. He knows this is for the best... but he also knows they both deserve closure. Y/N especially... she will never fully bloom without it.
⚘Genre:Forbidden love
⚘Word count: 2K+
⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex (no smut, but it is talked about), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of toxic masculinity, mentions of arguing, let me know if I miss anything!
⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.
⚘A/N: Chapter two! This one is a bit short, but the next chapter will be much longer, this chapter is meant to give some context to their past and how things ended up this way. I truly hope you like it, and chapter three will be out shortly.
╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :
♪Over - Lucky Daye (y’all this one is important, fits the vibe so well)
♪I bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski
✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧
That weekend, you’re in shambles.
Hundreds of missed texts and calls. All from him. All tempting you to run back to him like you always do. But you haven't answered. You can't, and you won't.
His texts range from saying things like,
"I'm sorry. Can we please just talk?"
"Now you're leaving me on read? What the fuck?"
"I'm going crazy. Please talk to me."
"I want to hate you right now. Fuck."
"I do fucking hate you. I regret you."
"That was a lie, I could never hate you, I love you, so fucking much. I don't regret anything with you."
"You haven't blocked me and I can see you reading my messages so I'm not gonna stop until you answer me."
"Fuck wait, don't block me, please don't."
"Please Y/N."
It stopped there. The last plea and you left it unanswered. Because with each message he sent, even though you didn't text him back, you sent a tiny piece of your heart his way. He just doesn't know it.
If you weren't hurt, you'd find this entire thing so fucking amusing because, clearly, the man is losing it. He's acting like a desperate teenager who is overly attached to his girlfriend. Like a lost puppy. A man-child who's too persistent for his own good. So cute.
Except for the fact that you're not his girlfriend. You're his mistress, and oh fuck, that label leaves such a dirty and disgusting taste in your mouth.
He would never address you as such. As a matter of fact, as you're laying on your couch drowning in your own self-pity and a bottle of cheap wine, he remains in his second apartment, thinking precisely the opposite.
Thinking about the fact that you were never a mistress. You were so much more. As fucked up as it sounds, you were more than his wife is to him currently. He's never felt so loved, but also never loved someone so damn hard. You own his soul, and he's panicking at the thought that he'll never get it back. You've run away with it and refuse to let him in enough to steal it back.
But the thing is, he doesn't want it. He wants you to have it. If he could, he'd wrap it up in the most expensive wrapping paper, decorate it with stickers and bows, and hand it to you. But you stole it; you didn't give him the chance.
You didn't mean to. Fuck, you didn't want it. You don't even realize how much he loves you. You refuse to realize it because it'll only make it so much more painful. It's easier to believe that he loves his wife, not you. That he'll stay with his wife, not you. That he'll be happier with her, not you. It's so much easier because, despite the bitter pain in your heart, your one wish out of all of this is his happiness and well-being.
You know nothing about his marriage. Jungkook realizes this now. He never intentionally kept his marriage from you, but it was so easy to just forget about it when he was with you.
Because he wants to forget.
He once loved his wife and thought for sure he would never love anything or anyone more than her. They were young and in love, married each other while they were fresh out of college like dumbasses. He was a lovesick boy with her. He thought she was the prettiest, most precious thing ever to exist.
Until things changed.
After college, she changed. She has always been more mature, ever since they first met. But she created this power dynamic between her and Jungkook; she saw herself as more than him. She started looking down on him because of his choice of career... because of his choices in life in general.
One thing about Jungkook is he listens to no one. He's a selfish man in some ways and does not give a shit about anyone's opinion. But she was his wife. So it created some tension when she expressed she didn't want him to be some indie photographer; she wanted him to do something better with himself. She wanted him to try and make it big, like some sort of Hollywood hotshot working for celebrities, because he damn sure has the talent.
But he wanted something much more simple. He just wanted to take pictures. Of anything, everything, for anyone. He told her he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't waste his years of college to do something he didn't want to do. He didn’t drown himself in student debt to end up unhappy. Regardless of the money, he just wanted to capture the beauty in other people.
He has his own little business, and it does well. So well that his wife could stop working if she wanted to and continue living her lavish lifestyle. He's one of the most loved photographers in Seoul, but that's all. People enjoy the fact that he's humble and keeps things simple while providing them with photography skills that you can't get anywhere else.
His wife doesn't like this.
She wants more. Always wants more.
It was the first time he denied her wishes.
And it was the first time he realized that maybe this woman was not what he had thought she was all the years he had been with her.
The dynamic switched quickly. He went from lovesick puppy to stray dog, constantly feeling like he didn't belong with her, like he didn't have a place with her anymore. But he married her, dedicated several years of his life to her, and didn't wanna leave her. Marriage is hard sometimes… surely they could overcome it.
That’s what he thought, anyway. But as time went on, it became clear that this wasn’t just a rough patch. God, he fucking wishes so badly that it was just a rough patch.
The one thing that made him start thinking impulsively was the bomb she dropped on him shortly before he met you.
"No, Jungkook, I don't want kids. Not now, not ever, so drop it."
"Woah- what? We've talked about this before baby... I don't understand. What changed your mind?"
"You. I'm content with what we have, and I don't want to focus on some mini-Jungkook running around and causing chaos in my future. We're fine as we are."
That was the day that he realized, holy fuck, I don't love this woman anymore. This isn’t just some rough patch. She is not the woman he fell in love with years ago… maybe she never was.
Because he had the same thought but the polar opposite, her words stung him in a way he'd never felt. He has always imagined a mini-her running around, and it made him swoon. It made him feel so many warm fuzzies inside. But she clearly didn't feel the same. And the fact that she would view a child made by them both as a nuisance just because it was his? That broke his heart.
Kids have always been such a huge deal to him. He loves them. He is a huge kid himself. He's always wanted to be a dad one day and always imagined it would be with his wife. He used to fantasize in college about it, about his little babies running around while he made his little family breakfast; she knew it, too. She knew he wanted kids, and she always fed into these fantasies, adding onto them and making them seem real and plausible.
But it never was real. It was all an illusion to keep him under her leash.
She never wanted kids. She just wanted to keep him.
And he knows that now. It makes him sick.
After that conversation, he quickly put up barriers with her. Although he couldn't bring himself to divorce her, he distanced himself. And she didn't even notice, which is what gave him the confidence to pursue you.
He just wanted to feel something. He couldn't even touch his wife anymore. Couldn't even get hard by her. And she humiliated him for it. She made him feel like he was broken and gross. Dirty. It's similar to your feeling but in a completely different context.
And she wasn't willing to help, either. He had tried to confide in her, be honest, communicate. He tried to work it out, wanted to find ways to make it work, wanted to be able to touch her again. He offered couples counseling and maybe a doctors visit to make sure his junk wasn’t broken like she swore it was. But the moment she saw he wasn't hard for her like he always had been? She, too, put up her walls. She distanced herself and never mentioned sex again. Hardly even looked at him in such a way.
He wouldn't doubt if she was cheating, too. In fact, he knows in his gut that she started cheating on him way before he did on her. He doesn't have the balls to confront her either, considering he feels he's the reason for her straying away. He can't give her what she needs. He feels like he's not good enough for her. For anyone. Not even for you.
It's a mess.
So that night he saw you at the club, dancing with your friends, that sweet smile on your face that could end a war, he wanted you. Oh, he wanted you so bad.
At first, it was just lust. Seeing the way that you moved, so sensual and sinful, but mixed with that innocent smile? It was a deadly combination that left his dick twitching.
Never once did he think it would be a constant. He was sure it'd be one time, which is why he didn't disclose his marriage to you at first.
It was thrilling for him. He knew it was wrong; he felt like a child who was sneaking out and doing shit behind his parent's back, stealing cookies from the cookie jar. But he hadn't felt a thrill in months, hadn't been touched in months, hadn't even been looked at in months.
So when you noticed him staring, and your cheeks turned faintly red under the club lights? And you tried to look away? But then he saw you whispering to your friends and panicking, whisper-yelling, "He's so hot- he's looking at me- oh god, I'm gonna puke, look at him!"
Yeah. That was what he needed. He needed someone to stroke his fragile little ego that his wife tore to fucking shreds. And your over dramatic, yet sweet reaction? It made him so fucking cocky.
One time. Just once. Just a little taste to keep me sane. That's what he told himself.
But when he finally got that taste of you? When he saw the way you looked at him while he was above you? The way you whined when he kissed you? The way you acted like you'd never been touched before? And then when he felt you? Felt how tight you were, felt how much you wanted him, how you seemed like you had not been with many men? It did it for him. It started an addiction.
You made him feel wanted in a way his wife didn't. In a way that she never did.
You healed a part of him while also causing him to grow. To flourish. To become himself again.
He doesn't even care if it's sinful circumstances. He's just thankful for you. So fucking thankful. When he dies and gets sent to hell, he will personally thank satan himself for giving him the ability to sin with you.
Maybe in hell, he can even have you.
He knows that even with all of that, it doesn’t make what you’re both doing right. No matter what excuses his mind conjures up, none of it is ok. Cheating is never ok. He should’ve never pursued you. He should’ve never kept it going. He should’ve never even been in that fucking club that night. Or, he should have fessed up. Should have told his wife, left her, fuck, he should’ve done something different.
He should’ve saved you both. But he didn’t. Because he’s selfish. And he’s so fucking scared.
And even then, he could never regret you. Never.
This is why, as he sits in the bedroom of his second apartment, staring directly at the perfume bottle that fell out of your purse and onto his floor as you ran away, he made a decision.
One that he wasn't happy with.
He's a coward. He feels as if he can't leave his wife. There are so many reasons as to why, but the main one is that he's in so deep with her. Has a whole life with her. She's part of him. So he can't leave her. He wants her to leave him. And he secretly hopes that one day, she will. It’s selfish, wrong, but that’s how he feels.
However, he can't let you leave without making sure you know how much he loves you.
It's fucked up. He knows it is. He knows that when you love someone, you'll do anything to be with them. But he's a coward.
He still loves you, though. Loves you more than he even understands. Right person, wrong time. And it’s so fucking painful.
So he gets his shit together. He takes a shower, shaves, makes himself look less of a mess, and starts making his way to your apartment without announcing himself.
He knows if he tells you, you'll refuse to let him in. He knows you're trying to move on. And he wants to help. But he can't let you go until you understand the extent of his feelings.
And maybe, just maybe, has one last taste.
This is something you don't expect him to do at all. He's never pushed himself on you. He's never been the type to show up without an invite, or at least a little heads up first.
Which is why when you hear a knock on the door, you don't think anything of it. You ordered pizza. The best heartbreak food. So you grab your wallet and pull out a some cash, swiftly opening the door and saying with a pout and sniffle,
"Keep the chan-"
That's not the pizza guy. Nope.
That's him. And fuck, you feel yourself melting. Your heart turns to molten hot lava and burns you from the inside out.
He smiles sheepishly, and he holds out a single flower. He didn't buy it. It's a tiny little purple wildflower that looks a bit wilted, much like yourself. Pitiful. And clearly, he picked it on the side of the road on his way here.
This is the kind of shit that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, the guilt is worth it.
"Please don't slam the door in my face. Please just let me talk to you for a bit, I promise I'll behave."
"Leave."
You swiftly say as you begin to do exactly what he asked you not to. You honestly weren't going to do it; you were already thinking that if he asked you to stay, you would. But then he said that, and it brought you back to reality.
But he doesn't let you.
His arm darts out, holding the door from shutting entirely. He pushes it open, steps in quickly, closes it behind him, and looks at you with an intense desperation you've never seen before. Looks like a lost fucking puppy, or maybe a puppy who’s been put outside by their owner.
A lost puppy for you… a stray dog for his wife.
And then he gets on his fucking knees and begs.
Looking up at you, with the tiny purple wildflower, still in his hand, it drops down to his side in defeat. He's gripping it so tightly that it's losing its life quickly. The same exact way he’s clinging to the connection you share as if he’ll die without it. But much like the little wildflower, he’s sucking the life out of you.
His other hand grabs yours and squeezes. He says with a weak voice,
"Please. Let me do this. We need closure, and the last time we saw each other was not it. I'm fucking begging you to let me in just for tonight. And then I'll let you go."
As he holds your hand, you can't look at him. Instead, you look at the tiny flower, the one that he's crushing in his palm. He's holding onto it for dear life without even knowing. Similar to you, once again. You're that flower.
You're wilted, bruised, bent, crushed. All because he's clinging onto you, sucking the life out of you, and you've let him. And if he asks, you're going to continue to let him.
But then the flower falls out of his hand. He lets it go.
Oh, what a fucked up way for god to tell you that he isn't going to stay. He isn't going to ask you to stay; he's really going to let you go tonight.
So, as you stare at the flower, which is now on the floor, you murmur, "Alright."
You don't want to. But you're giving him the chance to let you go. Even though you wished he wouldn't.
He stays on his knees, as if he isn’t sure what to do now. As if he wasn’t sure he’d get this far… and honestly, that’s exactly it. He thought for sure you would kick him out and curse him for trying.
Or maybe, he thought you’d fight, too. And the fact that you aren’t fighting… it shouldn’t hurt him as much as it does. He’s the one who has put you in a position of constant guilt. But oh, how nice it would be if you fought for him.
“Jungkook, Jesus, get off of your damn knees. You look ridiculous.”
He blinks slowly. Yeah, ok, fair. His big ass on his knees begging like that. But god, he’d do it over and over again just for a little more time with you.
He’d let you spit on him and call him degrading names if it meant more time with you. And he’d even smile about it.
You both end up laughing at his dramatics a moment later, and it’s music to his ears… knowing that he can still make you smile even though he’s the reason you’re dying inside right now.
Closure. It’s what you both need. Just one more night to get everything unsaid out into the open… then you’ll both move on.
… right?
✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧
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