COLORADO II PATHCODES VOL. II

COLORADO || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT II. “To have and to hold”

Length - 7,236

Mood - grief stricken, indelicate

Pairing - Kyungsoo x Reader

Warning - Mature content for sexual references, mention of miscarriage

“I've been homeless, hopeless with no address

'Til my heart, you chose

Now I got a home, baby

Out here in the world I'm not alone

As long as I've got you, I've got a home

If you just don't let go so I don't feel the cold

As long as I've got you, I've got a home

These four walls, they can't hold me like you do

You already know, babe

And I'll just fit my life inside you

Taking you everywhere I go, babe”

“Home” by - Snoh Aalegra

____________________________

You made it so easy

To forget the world beyond ours

But then I realized

I never wanted

To know anything

Beyond you

©️Asteria-Amphitrite

________________________

“Have you decided _____?” He asked, a slight quiver of nerves disrupting the smooth cadence of his voice as your eyes rose to his at his sudden question.

You sat beside one another in the town car Minseok and ____ (Berlin Reader) had arranged for the departing Pathcodes board.

Earlier, Jongin and his dear ____ (London Reader) had alighted from your vehicle, ____ (London Reader) waving after leaning forward to hug both you and your husband while Jongin held the door open, his farewell hugs already given.

“I hope to see you again soon. Take care,” she beamed at you, her smile as brilliant as the sun’s first light in winter.

“Take care ____. Be of good health,” your husband called after her nodding as she turned once more to wave, Jongin’s hand enveloping hers that wasn’t sparing you a parting greeting.

“Travel safe and well hyung. I love you both. See you very soon,” Jongin leaned down, ducking his head inside to wave once again now that she was by his side, leaning against him, her eyes on him.

You both waved.

“Take care Jongin. It’s good to see you both again. Please be well until we see each other again,” you called out and Jongin nodded in acknowledgment before gently shutting the door as they walked away, their eyes on each other.

Now you looked at him, slightly confused.

“I’d like to go with you. I know you planned out the alternative for me and I appreciate it. But I would like to see the family home and I would like to support you, if that’s ok?” You were sure that your smile was sweet and harmless. That’s what you intended and meant it to be.

But he watched you still, even as your hands took his within your own.

He allowed you to bring him closer, his eyes large and ever patient.

“I know this event has been hard for us. I know it’s not fair to you and I haven’t been fair in how I tried to hold back everything I felt. I know it’s not easy for us to come back into our relationship after so much time spent apart. I’m not sure where we start over but I want to start again. Please Soo. Please let me go with you,” you asked, feeling the resolve in your intended harmless, guileless smile cracking to reveal your anxiety that he was actually indifferent to you after so much time.

He sighed, breaking eye contact to look down at your hands in his.

After studying them for a moment, he brought your hands to his lips, kissing them with the ultimate tenderness, caressing the skin at the back of your hands over and over and over again with kisses as he began to murmur, “I have missed you so much.”

________________

Together, prior to your departure from your semi rural home, you decided that you would return with him to his home city in Seoul following the New Year's gala in Berlin.

Your in-laws seemed altogether surprised that you would return to the family restaurant to invite them to your family home for dinner where the announcement was made.

And you felt the telltale sting of guilt, embedded like a stitch in your side, as you watched their reaction to your husband’s declaration.

“Will you return together?” Your father-in-law asked, pointedly pausing in his meal to place his utensils down to give you his undivided attention.

A chilled silence fell over the usually hushed dinner and your husband quietly protested after a moment, “father, yes. I will return home with my wife.”

______________

You knew then of course how much rode on this journey.

You knew also how far you had fallen in their eyes.

You knew then a feeling of such intense foreboding that broke the false security that you thought your relationship had always held tethered about it.

You understood how much he shielded you from and how selfishly you had expected him to do so.

Your vows came to you as you washed the dishes that night from your family dinner, looking at his traveling bags that he had dropped at the front door just the night before upon his return to your broken home on your request following your phone call all those months earlier.

You remembered again the way he had allowed you the illusion and the dream of an alternate place you two entered.

You remembered how easy he had made it to be for it to always just be you and him, separate from everything and everyone that chose to inflict hurt.

You realized that you counted on him to protect you in this way.

You realized that you had depended on him to sacrifice his needs before yours even to the detriment of your relationship.

What vows had you truly upheld?

What had you promised?

_______________

“This may take some time,” he spoke to you as he always did, patiently and with great consideration in his inflection.

Never to worry ____. I have it all under control.

“I can wait. I am not anxious for anything,” you lied.

You fidgeted all the way from Berlin to Seoul, 14 hours straight.

You couldn’t sleep.

You couldn’t eat.

But you pretended you did to allow him to rest.

His eyebrows seemed to quirk up as if he knew you were only running on maybe an hour or two worth of sleep.

“If you’d like to tour the city? I’m sure I could ask my aunts to take you with them on an outing-”

“Oh I...well I don’t want to trouble anyone. I’m happy to go with them. It’s been a while since we saw each other last. But I would like to stay as well...I. Well whatever you think is best,” you felt strange trying to hide your worry in front of him and you knew that he knew you were trying despite your promise to be transparent.

“I don’t want anything to happen as it has before. Promise me that whenever you feel anxious that you will tell me and we’ll figure out an alternative,” he asked of you the first night you arrived in Berlin where he had resigned himself to sleeping in the guest room of your hotel suite.

You were dumbfounded that he refused your offer to spend the night together after such a long time spent apart but knew that it was frightening to you too to consider resuming intimacy as if nothing had been stolen from you both after all this time. Even when he returned to your home from his personal business schedule abroad, you hadn’t laid together as husband and wife even once.

Suddenly you were shy about being naked in front of him, preferring to change your clothes in the bathroom after your shower.

He also wore longer pants to bed, and asked you if it was all right if he brought an extra blanket to bed to keep warm with.

You were too shy to ask him to hold you instead and he was too reserved to cross the space your blankets now created between you.

You wanted him just as you did before and you could see that he wanted you.

You could smell it on each other.

The heat of your mutual lusts.

But it was as if you were assessing whether you were ready to face not only yourselves but the many, many hurts collected along the way.

He looked at you with the same consideration and understanding, reaching forward with a heart filled gesture, taking your face in his hands as he leaned in to kiss you wholeheartedly.

“I need you to trust me. I have been trying to put this off but there is now an issue with the family that I need to take care of. After I take care of it, I can tell you everything. I’m not sure if I was ever ready to tell you all of this but I cannot keep this from you anymore. But no matter what happens or what you see or what you hear please remember that I do love you, ok,” he seemed to be warning you that the anxiety you felt now would be nothing compared to the devastation that awaited you.

And as the gentleman he was, as the true prince of peace that he was to his earthen core, he prepared you ahead of it, readying himself to take the sword in his own heart all the way to its hilt if but to spare you the searing pain of judgement.

_______________

His family home, belonging at this time to his paternal grandmother, was settled in one of the bustling satellite cities of Seoul and a gathering place for many generations of his family.

You had visited once many years ago upon the initial news of your engagement for a brief introduction during a winter family holiday after his birthday.

The family was welcoming of newcomers but distant even then, asking through your husband then fiancé about your career and what aspirations you held.

“A modern woman,” you had heard his cousins chatter behind manicured hands, followed by raised full and filled-in eyebrows at his answers to his aunts and cousins.

You returned now to that house, all these years later seeing those same manicured hands now sporting engagement and wedding bands of their own, the children of some of those cousins twittering parroted conversations of their parents.

“Cousin is back”

“His modern woman came too!”

______________________

Your husband went ahead of you into the private room where his grandmother waited on him alone and you waited in the kitchen, attempting to help with meal time for his younger cousins.

The youngest girl, who couldn’t be more than two years old, that you were helping to feed, snuggled against you, smiling at you genuinely as you raised the spoon to her lips.

She clapped as you mimicked the eating action to encourage her, giggling open mouthed before taking a bite that you offered to her.

“She usually does not eat so well with others. What kind of magic is this?” One of his cousins muttered, once again behind her hand.

The young girl’s mother had gone in behind her cousin, your husband, as she apparently also had paperwork to fulfill.

“Ah...I don’t know. She does seem to be eating very well,” you acknowledged her statement but she didn’t look at you and instead turned further away towards her companion, another distant cousin.

“They say when children are sweet to you like that that you must be pregnant.” You felt a sudden tempered blaze budding against your cheeks as they pretended to hush their voices in front of you.

The little girl in your arms tugged at your sleeve, waiting on you to serve her.

“I’m so sorry. Were you ready for another bite already?” You shifted your focus to her, guiding the spoon gently as you heard them gasp.

“But I thought she was barren?”

“That’s what Aunt told us.”

“Well she has every right to be upset. He gave up so much to marry her and now look what this marriage has done. It has no future.”

“But what alternative does he have? He can’t dishonor his vows.”

“But he would forsake the family?”

You finished spooning the rest of the pumpkin porridge into her mouth and carefully placed the dishes on the table before turning to face his cousins.

“Excuse me...excuse me what are you talking about?” You asked, waiting on both of them to turn to you.

They waited you out, finishing another spoonful of porridge before turning to you.

“Aunt came to visit us when you were mysteriously ill and told us how you had ruined her son. That your family was negligent and how much you depended on him.”

“What could have attracted him to you? He could have had any woman within our country.”

“I’m sorry? What are you talking about?”

His cousin rose to her feet abruptly, leaning forward as she planted her hands on the table before her, grounding herself as she lurched towards you until your noses almost touched.

The child in your arms yelped and began to cry aloud in shock at the sudden commotion.

You were surprised that her mother didn’t rush out to tend to her with the way she shrieked and refused to be consoled.

“You have no idea who we are. He made sure to keep you out of it. I told him that he would regret it. And now he does. You’ll see,” she spat in your face before wrenching herself away from the table, picking up her child she had been feeding.

The cousin who sat beside her reached for the young girl who was crying and clinging to you, wrestling her out of your grasp as she followed her cousin down the hall.

“C-come back here! Come back!” You called after her, wiping away the spit from your hair and face, reaching frantically for a cloth to clean yourself with.

There was a slammed door and a shuffle of footsteps down the hall as the children shrieked again at a sudden enraged shout.

“내 아내한테서 떨어져요!”

As you opened your eyes and stood to follow them, you saw your husband at the entryway of the kitchen and the women retreating from him, the rage in his eyes dimming.

His expression was gray and withdrawn as he came towards you, hurrying around the kitchen table to help you sit down.

But you felt yourself resisting at first, alarmed by his sudden shout at his departed cousins.

“Kyungsoo what-”

“Please sit down 여보,” he asked, reaching for the cloth you were at dabbing your hair and face with.

“Kyungsoo what did they mean?! What were they saying? Why did she spit at me?! What’s going on?! What’s-”

He helped you clean up the rest of it speaking in hushed penitent tones.

“I never wanted you to be part of this. But now I don’t have a choice.”

__________________

You departed from his grandmother’s house on foot just as quickly though not as peacefully as you had originally come.

He held your hand gripped tightly in his, brusquely leading the way.

“Kyungsoo please let’s talk about this now. I want to understand. Is there something about being married to me that your family doesn’t like? We have never had a close relationship but her anger towards me caught me off guard...did something happen-”

“I would prefer that we wait-”

“Please Kyungsoo. I-i understand that you want to wait but-”

“Can we at least just get inside and not be on the street?” He demanded, motioning towards the rental car you’d purchased.

You hurried along after him, jumping back as he wrenched and slammed at the car door and gasped as he pulled away from the house quickly, moving along the street at a jilted pace.

“Kyungsoo-”

He shook his head, continuing to drive in agitated silence amongst the traffic cluttered roads until he came to a lesser populated rural highway road where he pulled over.

“Kyungsoo-”

He leaned forward to kiss you then, taking you in his arms roughly, hungrily as if he was aching for nourishment.

You melted against him, pulling his arms closer around you.

“여보,” he moaned against your parted lips.

“Kyungsoo please tell me what’s going on. Why did we come here? Why did your grandmother refuse to see me?”

He slowly sat back, his head resting against the top of the seat.

“____. I would have never told you all of this because this isn’t your world. I brought you here today in response to my grandmother’s request and my family didn’t appreciate that-”

“What request?” You asked though you remembered again now his father’s pointed question.

“Will you return together?”

“What did your grandmother ask you to do?”

He turned his eyes towards you, reaching for your hand as he said, “she asked me whether I was still considering a divorce.”

_______________

The word shattered your mind.

_______________

“Were you? Did you want a divorce?” You managed to squeeze out of your throat and he shook his head resolutely.

“I don’t know what I want anymore-”

“What does that mean? What-what-what paperwork did she ask you to sign?”

“Rights to our family company-”

“Through the Pathcodes? I thought-”

“No...it’s…” he paused again, seeming to grow exhausted by the perpetual onslaught of your questions.

He dispiritedly folded forward until his forehead rested against the car horn at the center of the steering wheel.

“Kyungsoo talk to me. What don’t I know? There’s something you’re not telling me? What did your mother say to your cousins about us? Did she tell the whole family?”

“Yes. Yes she did. It was at dinner. She had been drinking-”

His tone became increasingly subdued in its delivery though he remained exasperated as he answered you and that only heightened your anxiety.

“Kyungsoo. What-what-what don’t I know?! What-”

“Everything ____! Everything! I kept everything from you-”

“What do you mean? Like you lied about who you are-”

“I didn’t lie about who I am. I just didn’t-”

“Even if you kept certain parts to yourself that is still not telling me the complete truth-”

“Oh now I’m not telling the truth?!? Now I am the one keeping things from you? We have spent an entire year and a half away from each other because you chose to shut me out. You walked away from me for an entire year and a half ____.”

His tone was stricken as he spoke to you but he remained eerily calm as he brought up your chosen separation and solitude from your relationship.

“I am guilty of that yes. I did walk away from you. I am sorry-”

“I don’t want you to apologize to me. I want to know why you did it-”

“I could not face you after that...after that ma-many miscarriages. I was embarrassed...I-”

“Did you think that I thought it was your fault? Did you think I was angry at you?”

“But weren’t you angry at me? Even just a little bit? Weren’t you disappointed in me? Weren’t you sorry that you married me?! Weren’t you?! Just say it! Just tell me the truth! Didn’t you hate me?!” The resolve you had held so close, gripping it between not only your fingertips but between your teeth as well was finally torn from you.

You tasted blood as you continued to speak, feeling a stinging pain within your cheek that you had bitten through.

“You’re all I have. I hated that you would keep yourself from me. But I don’t hate you ____. I have never hated you. Never.”

The tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, shaking your head in miserable disbelief.

“What don’t I know Kyungsoo! What aren’t you telling me?! Is there someone else?” You pulled away from him as he reached for you.

And he sat back from your reluctance, allowing you space from him once again.

“Yes,” he admitted after what felt like an eternity.

—————————

He told you in that weary grief stricken tone that he belonged to an older farming family who had grown from their small rural field to comfortably support territories in South & North Korea, Japan, China, Thailand and Cambodia.

While they steadily acquired and maintained a significant profit from their satellite operations, infighting for redistribution of wealth constantly threatened to topple their family’s dominance within their own empire.

As part of their created tradition, an available male member of the founding family was required to marry into the neighboring farming families to maintain the founding family’s domination and to “secure their future” as he derisively put it.

“I always thought that I could live a normal life like my peers. I thought that I could marry the person that I wanted and have the career that I wanted. I thought that I didn’t have to be what others wanted me to be just because of the family I was born into.”

“I knew a dear friend once whom I thought that I could have married...but she was married young because her family did not agree with mine over land and territory disputes. I thought that if I could convince my grandmother to reconsider some of our land development here that would be a sign of good faith to her father…but in the end she loved her husband and when I learned that...I gave up on that entirely.”

He was quiet after confessing that there had been someone before you.

Someone he had loved a lifetime ago.

What of himself had he shared with her that you had never known?

What of herself had she shared with him that he still treasured and missed?

Was there a man other than your husband that you knew?

Never.

Not in all the years had you been together had he ever mentioned this family history.

Not the Fourth of July celebration where your paths first crossed.

Not after the first time you went to his family’s restaurant.

Not after your first official date.

Not after you moved into your shared home.

It had never slipped.

Never.

Even when you had traveled here after your engagement.

They were just family.

No secret meetings to sign paperwork.

No forward and bold faced aggression.

How and why had you been kept from the truth?

Were you a weak and willing pawn so taken by the comfortable, unassuming life he had offered to ever wonder if there was more to the story?

“I chose to leave home and to be stripped of my birthright. My grandmother allowed me until my 25th birthday to choose someone to marry. If I hadn’t found someone I would still be considered an available suitor…”

Cars rattled by on the lone country highway.

The sun shifted behind the clouds, peeking from above, below, and in between.

You felt the fabric of your dress sticking to the back of your legs and smelled the faint scent of sweat mingling with his cologne.

A dusty whirl of wind caused a slight tremble to shake your vehicle.

All the while you struggled to breath past the reality that had overcome you, your tongue puffed and sticking against the roof of your mouth, bearing down upon you within this car’s deliriously unbearable heat.

Hot seat.

“When you came here for the film festival...did they...had they found a suitor yet?” You counted the years again knowing that his 25th birthday had well passed since your first year of marriage since the miscarriages began and again the weight of the knowledge he shared pressed you further back into the car door’s frame jumping away from its metal brackets and pieces.

“My brother...his health issues kept him from ever being considered. But because of my example...there are quite a few people in my generation that have done what I did. Many of us have moved away to other parts of the world and that puts a strain on our family…”

“And my miscarriages...the way that my parents handled the engagement and our marriage...that reflected poorly on you. Your mother...she told them everything and they thought badly of you didn’t they?” The tears welled in your eyes as he nodded.

And you finally understood the extent of your transgressions.

“I was so selfish. I was so embarrassed Kyungsoo. I thought if we just got married then everything would figure itself out. My parents would come to their senses and you and I would be as happy as we always were. But we didn’t truly know each other did we? I didn’t know everything that was riding on our marriage...I didn’t know how much you were risking...but why did you never tell me?”

His gaze shifted to his wedding band.

“I gave you space because I knew it was incredibly hard for you to deal with that heartbreak in front of me. I knew that you blamed yourself and that no matter how much I told you that it wasn’t your fault and that we weren’t the only ones faced with that kind of hardship that you would not believe me. I wanted to comfort you. You knew what it was to be neglected by your family but losing our children broke your heart. It broke my heart. I wanted to mourn our children. So many of our children with you,” he had reached down to turn his wedding band on his finger and tightened his grasp as he uttered the end of his phrase, his mouth wrenching closed.

He sniffled after a moment, exhaling as he opened his tearful eyes to go on turning his band about his finger, “but I knew you wouldn’t let me be there for you and that I had to wait until you were ready. And that waiting was agonizing. I hated it more than anything. I second guessed us. Many a time I considered divorce to spare you and to spare us because I didn’t know whether you would ever have the heart to try reconciling. It was around that time that my mother mentioned the divorce to my grandmother that I met her again, my childhood friend, when I came back for the film festival. She came to one of my press conferences. And seeing her again was like a breath of fresh air that I needed. She knew everything about me since childhood. I didn’t have to put part of myself away for her.”

You felt your heart shrinking and straining to continue its mournful beat at his words.

“She was newly widowed. Her husband served in the unit my father and grandfather and her father and his grandfather served in. He carried a wound from training that developed into a sickness that he ultimately passed away from. But she still seemed hopeful. She was at peace. And I had a moment where I wondered what life would have been like if I hadn’t left. Just a moment,” he looked at you as he disclosed his brief emotional betrayal and you allowed him that waiting helplessly as he went on.

“We talked for a little while after the press conference just standing to the side and she asked about my family. She already knew about my marriage and our hardships. And she offered us sympathy...she said ‘I know your heart aches for her. You must be patient with her.’ And I knew she was right.”

“I didn’t come back to you because she told me to. I didn’t come back to you to spite my family. I came back to you because that world, with its politics, and its traditions is no place for me. I came back to you because I want our life. I want the simplicity of our life. At one time or another yes I loved that woman when we were children and rebellious and carefree. But as the man I am today...I have made a commitment that I have given my heart to. I would gladly give up that life for you ____. I was wrong to keep that from you. I was wrong to think I was doing the right thing by shielding you from it.”

“Because I kept it from you you didn’t understand my anxiety about delaying the marriage or even tossing it altogether. You didn’t even know who I was. I didn’t allow you to and I am sorry,” he reached for you again, with both arms, but you held your position.

“I haven’t held you as your husband in such a long, long time and I don’t know how we get back to that point. I don’t know how we come back together when you’re just learning all of these things about me before we met. I don’t deserve your forgiveness for concealing myself but I want your forgiveness-”

“How could I not forgive you? After everything I have done-”

“It’s not...I don’t want you to forgive me as a way to punish yourself. I want us to move past that now ____,” he sternly disagreed, his arms dropping, allowing you to keep distance from his soothing touch.

“Is this life not second best to you? To everything you could have had? If she is a widow now...why not marry her? You don’t think that you’re settling for me? For us? For this life? When you deserve so much more? Don’t you think they were right? That you deserve more?” You asked.

“Loving you even through the lens I allowed myself to love you was what I needed. Before I would have said that I chose us because your world was so different. You were so separate from everything I knew growing up. I fell in love with the worlds you illustrated and I wanted to remain in the dreams of those worlds rather than face the reality of my own.”

“And now?”

“And now I see how selfish I was and what heartache that has caused us both for me to not live in the truth-”

“And what is the truth-”

“The truth is that I am from an older farming family that advocates for inhumane labor conditions and financial and political domination in multiple regions. If I stayed within that family structure I would have had a hand in some of those despicable things. I chose to leave as a child to find new opportunities for my family. I met you and I hoped that you and I could find a way to be happy together. I didn’t tell you everything because I didn’t want you to be tainted by that but I ended up hurting us and tainting our relationship anyway. The truth is that I hadn’t given you the chance to get to know me and now I hope you will…”

He looked at you with those hopeful eyes, brimming with unshed tears as he waited for you.

But you couldn’t breathe.

“I need some air,” you rasped, coughing past a dry patch in your throat.

He fumbled with the car keys turning the car’s A/C on and blasting it in your direction.

He leaned over to your side to turn the fans on you and you caught his arm before he leaned away.

You briefly caught the look in his eyes as you leaned forward to kiss him.

He moaned against you, bringing his arms around you to hold you firmly to him.

“I don’t know how to do this…” you started breathlessly between kisses.

“Together. We do this together,” he insisted and you nodded, pulling away to look at him.

“What do you want this life...our life together to be like?” You asked him, his hands holding you just above your hips.

“I…”

“Knowing there’s another woman out there...that there’s someone who loved you and that you loved. I know it’s over now but Kyungsoo...I have a hard time believing that you love me for who I am. I...can we actually be together? Is it possible to move past this?” You couldn’t stop the questions and he seemed to understand, his hold on you loosening as his arms came around you to pull you closer again.

“It’s a lot that I am asking…”

“What exactly were you going to sign?” You asked quietly as he finished and he stiffened in your embrace.

“I...they did...my family wants me to allow them partnership in some of our operations in the Pathcodes especially if we do plan to pursue work in Seoul. If I won’t give you up and come back then I have to do that. I told them that I cannot make any decisions until our board has a chance to discuss it.” He kept his voice low as he spoke against your shoulder.

“And if we got a divorce?”

“They would give up their interest in the Pathcodes but I would have to go back to Seoul with my family. It would be easier for my brother to stay where we are. It’s healthier for him to stay where he is now. But my parents miss everyone. Even if I want to stay they want to go home.”

You shifted out of his embrace wiping the tears from your eyes and nose.

“I don’t want you to continue to miss out on things in life because of me, Kyungsoo. I don’t want to hold you back ever in life-”

“You’re not holding me back-”

“Kyungsoo!”

“___! You’re not holding me back! Don’t you ever say that! Ever-”

“Kyungsoo!”

“Why would you say that?! Why wouldn’t you just say that you would go with me?! Why don’t you just say that you’ll be by my side?! Do you want me to leave you? Do you want me to hurt you like that? Do you want me to break my own heart like that-”

“But am I the one you actually want by your side? Is it wrong for me to question that now? Kyungsoo how do we actually do this-”

“We just do it ___! We just-”

“Could you really be here without your family? The family you just said you did everything for? I may have been a terrible daughter in law so far but I know better than that…”

You realized how heavy you both were breathing, and how much stickier your skin was at all the added hot air.

You gripped at his forearms, your nails tentatively digging into his flesh.

He looked down at your hands, stopping abruptly.

“___?”

“I can’t bear this heat anymore…”

“Ok let’s...let’s at least get back-”

He hurried to put the car into drive, turning up dust and dirt in his rush to get you both back to the hotel in the city where you had planned to stay.

You reserved yourselves in normal company, politely thanking the staff for their accommodations as they guided you up to your lodgings.

You went to the bathroom immediately, tearing at your clothes, hearing Kyungsoo come in after you.

“Kyungsoo-” you fumbled with your dress’ buttons, trying to pull the fabric back together modestly at least.

But he charged across the marble bathroom floor, pulling at your arms until you released them.

“Don’t hide from me anymore ___. I need you,” he groaned, crushing you against him as he pressed you against the bathroom wall beside the couple sinks.

“Kyungsoo!” You cried out in anguished desire as he took your chin between his fingers, pressing your face away from him so he could kiss your neck, pulling your dress open until it fell from your shoulders to your waist.

Your hands frantically scaled him, from his forearms to his chest where you teared at his dress shirt. As you pulled it from his taut and twitching shoulders, he pushed himself forward, pressing your legs apart as you brought your thighs around him struggling to lift yourself higher.

His kisses became more insistent in their sucking, and you cried against his lips as he lifted you up against him turning with you abruptly to head back into the bedroom.

A flash of lights from the hallway made you gasp as you realized that the door was still open where the staff was bringing in your luggage behind you both to the suite’s living room.

“Kyungsoo!” You whimpered against him, shrinking in his arms but he didn’t mind them and continued carrying you into the bedroom down the hall, kicking the door closed behind him.

Just before he had closed the door you had heard their bashful choruses of “excuse us” before they closed the door to your suite behind them.

“I don’t care who is looking…” he grumbled as he came to a stop before the bed.

You felt yourself slipping slowly to its surface and as you went you pulled at where your dress sat at your hips.

His hands found yours, pulling determinedly at the fabric until it gave way and you shimmied out, rising on your shins to help him pull off his dress shirt that hung bound at his forearms as he pulled at his belt buckle.

“Hurry…” he groaned hotly, waiting for you to finish getting his arms through though his pants and briefs were already at his ankles.

“I...I’m trying-”

“Don’t make me wait anymore ____. I want you right now. I need you right now…” he groaned as you finally pulled both of his arms free.

Reaching down he grabbed underneath your thighs as you reached for his neck, whimpering at the singing heat of his bare skin as he crushed you against him. Finally.

“I am sorry for how rough I am going to be…” he apologized as he walked around the bed, lifting himself up as he brought a hand down to anchor you above him, crawling with you in his arms until he found the center of the bed.

He let you fall and you trembled as he moved down and away from your hands that reached to bring him back to kiss and caress him.

Following the trail of his kisses in your mind’s eye you knew where he was headed.

“I haven’t tasted you in so long…” he whimpered aloud, expressing desires he had always only ever done in quiet reverence.

“Kyungsoo!” You screamed as he brought himself down into you, kissing and suckling at you zealously.

You writhed onto and against him, crying as he brought you higher and further and further until-

“____...come here,” he murmured lovingly, sitting back to give you room. He stood now where he had kneeled before you.

But even in your quaking surprise you found strength enough to move to stand and take tremoring steps back towards him, turning to look at him over your shoulder as you swept your hair away from your gaze.

“I know you love it that way but I need to look at you this way…” he whispered, bringing your hips towards him as you rose and turned to face him.

You sat where you prepared to bend over and he laid you down, your hands spanning the expanse of his waist to crest over the top of his broad shoulders holding him as he slowly pressed into you, pushing further until you wailed before pulling away and crushing himself against you again.

“Haaaaaa _____. Baby...baby I….baby…” he whimpered against you as you hissed and cried, forgetting yourself in your movements, your fingernails scratching at his shoulders.

You went on like this until he stood, your hands trying fruitlessly to keep him directly above you as he barreled on.

He pulled your thighs aching and sweating from round him to rest upright against his chest.

“Show me that sweet face you make when it feels good,” he murmured under his breath and you gasped as his rhythm increased feeling yourself bouncing and bucking harder against his swift pulsing.

You turned away shyly as the curl of a fevered hedonistic smile broke your consumed amorous gaze, putting your hands over your face in lieu of calming the bounce of your body against his every thrust.

“Mm there you are let me see you. Don’t hide from me. Tell me how much you missed me. Tell me ____,” he called aloud to you.

“Kyungsoo we’re too loud already. Baby I-”

“I don’t give a damn. Tell me how much you missed me. I can feel that you missed me. I feel it everywhere. And I love that so much baby. Tell me ____. Tell me baby. I want to hear you say it,” he stopped mid motion to push you up further so that he kneeled above you, your thighs around his waist again like you liked.

His grip slipped from the backs of your calves as he leaned down into your whispering.

“I can’t hear you,” he taunted, leaning back up, the change in position while maintaining consistent motion making you flush hotly.

“Kyungsoo-ah…” you moaned but he wouldn’t relent.

It had been a while but you remembered the stubbornness of your husband.

Especially in this capacity.

“Say it ____. For me, baby. I need to hear it,” he demanded, enunciating every word with movement.

You uncovered your eyes, looking into his as you said it, for once, finally, forgetting who was around, who was listening and what the consequences might be.

You told him plainly how much you missed him and how much you needed him and how much you wanted him, luxuriating in the way he moaned your name at your submission to his request, riding the blissful high when it came to you and followed for him.

You knew, though you had heard him apologize earlier, by the way he helped you to his chest, carefully tucking you into him as you wiped away the tears from your feverish cries, that he was sorry that he needed to be that rough with you.

Even in your special place, the private place, where you loved, he hadn’t loved you as fervidly as he just had. There were pauses and coaxing, so much goading on and on until you did.

But it had been so much time and space between loving.

And in his gestures, his intense gaze, his open hearted cries of ecstasy in union with you...you knew that there was no one else for him just as you felt for him.

There had been no one else that loved him as you did.

...and there never would be.

The fears you kept in your heart, the way you thought yourself less deserving, a peon worth no more than the spit hocked in your face earlier that afternoon, all of that pitiful miserable self wallowing and search for commiseration, were suddenly abominations in your eyes.

Think again about who this man is that is lying here with you.

Think again about what he told you.

Yes he didn’t tell you everything.

Yes he kept things to himself.

Yes.

But did you ask?

Did you ever really wonder?

What were you so focused on?

And whomever she was...that person whom he had loved then...it was you who he came back to.

Think again about how he pleaded with you, worshiping you as he begged you to affirm him and his place in your heart.

How powerful is the love you share for him to endure all that he did?

Think again about what you must mean to him?

Who is this woman he is looking to with such trust?

Who is this woman that he so desperately needs?

It’s you isn’t it?

What does that say about you?

You touched your husband, his chest rising and falling slower as he settled into sleep, his lips parted as he breathed, his eyelids fluttering briefly until they closed, his hands on the small of your back, feeling yourself wrapped around him, cradling him as he cradled you.

That’s right.

He is my husband.

And me?

I, am his wife.

LYON II PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT III./Pt II. “Cucumber Melon”

Length - 6,603

Mood - Disenchanted, Wearied

Pairing - Baekhyun x Reader

“Losing my breath

At your glance, my world stops

My heart is true, trust me

A burning passion

I’ll stake it all for you

There’s no other way

You know it…”

“Ice Queen” by Baekhyun

Present Day

“_____? The water is boiling. I can finish up in here with the tea if you’re going to be awhile!” _____ (Marseille Reader) called out to you from her kitchen.

You stared at the vomit swirling in the toilet as you flushed for the second time, and waited for the telltale hiss to subside before washing your hands at the already running faucet.

Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh no Oh God

“_____?” She (Marseille Reader) gently rapped at the door and tried the door knob.

“Sorry, I’ll be right there!” You answered and heard her soft “ok” before her footsteps receded back out into the hall again.

You washed your face clear of vomit and washed your hands for a third time before picking up the tube of her toothpaste. Unscrewing the cap, you squeezed a glob onto your finger and scrubbed at your teeth, and gargled mouthwash in a cycle of two.

You turned to look at the bottle of her cucumber melon shampoo whose cap had not been closed properly atop her bathroom vanity. One whiff of that as soon as you entered the bathroom had you running for the toilet.

I’m pregnant. I’m definitely pregnant again.

Cucumbers had never been your favorite vegetable though you had never had a particular aversion to them either. It was not until much later in life that you were very strict about not having anything to do with the scent and sight of cucumbers in your home even though it didn’t affect you. Yet.

The only extreme reaction you had ever had to the scent of cucumbers had been over a year ago during dinner with Jongdae and Baekhyun before he had temporarily moved to Almaty for their first gig.

You had ordered in from The Beef Club to celebrate, and after setting the table, abruptly vacated the area, leaving an equally stunned Baekhyun and Jongdae in shock, after smelling the cucumber ribbons you had specifically requested not be included in your summer spinach salad order. Baekhyun spotted them just as you lurched up and away from the table, his fork in hand to pick the ribbons from your plate, clattered to the floor as he hopped up to run after you.

“Poor jagi doesn’t like them anymore than I do now,” Baekhyun cooed as he came in behind you to help you clean up.

He held your hair back from your face as you vomited, rubbing your back until you dry heaved and sat back against him, his hand still at your back.

But after your solo appointment with your gynecologist later that week, you knew that was true in more ways than one.

The notion of this possible second pregnancy both horrified and delighted you all at the same time.

You couldn’t imagine this possibly being the best time to announce such news.

_____________

“Madame, Mr. Byun left with Mr. Byun and YunHee this morning. I have begun to pack your things for the week as he instructed,” your butler informed you upon your arrival by taxi that Sunday afternoon from ____’s (Marseille Reader’s) apartment.

“Yes I spoke with my mother on my way in. Both she and my in-laws are at Grandmother’s house and I will join them later this afternoon. I do however have a conference call scheduled...if you wouldn’t mind continuing to help me with my things?” She had greeted you at your front door, and quickly shared the week’s events planned in anticipation of your participation before dismissing herself at your request to continue with her work.

She dismissed herself down the hall ahead of you where you heard her dismiss the nanny from YunHee’s room.

“Monsieur already packaged all of her needs. You may tend to the laundry.”

Outside the gardener waved through the window.

You were still reeling from the earful your mother gave you.

“Why would you cause us to worry like this, ____? I cannot imagine what could have happened. Darling why couldn’t you come to me instead of taking off in the night?! What if something happened to YunHee? Baekhyun would never forgive himself-”

“Why are you defending him as if I am the only one in the wrong?! I’m not some spoiled brat-”

“Oh? And running away in the middle of the night says otherwise? ____, I will not tolerate this. What is so difficult to resolve-”

“Why do I have to resolve this issue with him?”

“Can it be such an unforgivable thing?!? I can hardly believe that. You will come to his grandparents’ this weekend” she demanded with a shout before hanging up, something she had never done even when you had pissed her off as a younger girl.

It was intolerable to be alone in this house with your solitary thoughts a moment longer but you would wait to finish the conference call here before joining the ambush you were sure this meeting at his grandparents’ house would be. After a moment of pacing from the foyer to the entrance of your family wing, you decided to wait for the call from ______ (Berlin Reader) and the others in the home office you still hadn’t finished designing.

You continued to pace the floor even in the office, stopping at the half unwrapped mirror leaned against the nude wall as you caught your reflection, and the memories of your crazed trek through the dark of your rural community to the greater city resurfaced.

You looked as though you were one of the Wild Hunt, suspiciously returning to a vacant castle whose master and mistress were exposed and impotent.

“Let me shower first,” you whispered to your own reflection, your eyes descending for a moment to your belly.

I even took you out there with me.

What if something had happened to us?

Again in the hall, you made your way to your bedroom, pausing at YunHee’s opened door to see her room neatly clear of the toys she would usually pull out to play with by this time of the morning.

He took everything she needed.

Even toys that she sometimes had difficulty describing with what primary sign language she had been learning with her speech and music therapist who made frequent house calls outside of her regular office visits when necessary.

After washing up and approving the bag packed by your butler that she brought to the front door to wait for you, you returned to the home office, dressed in an acceptable sundress and blazer to greet your family later on, in time to see ____ (Berlin Reader’s) name flash across your phone’s screen.

When you answered you heard a collective welcoming of cheerful, well rested voices.

“Hello everyone. Just wanted to update you all about an event coming up in the next month or so. Remember we had discussed a possible business package in tandem with a women’s seminar. Will all of you still be able to attend?,” she inquired, the sound of a pen scribbling on paper sounding in your ears at her brief pause.

“Mhm, we’ll be there,” _____ (Almaty Reader) chimed in immediately, speaking for _____ (OG Arizona Reader) who was listening in from her line.

____ (Marseille Reader) texted you asking you if you made it back home as she responded to the group line, “I’ll be there.”

“I’m back home, yea. Heading to grandparents in a little while.”

“I will have to see now that I’m back in town. There are some things that I need to take care of later this afternoon,” you were the last to answer.

“Oh damn…that’s sudden?”

“I should have known it would happen tho.”

“I do want to bring ____ (Yúnnan Reader) into the fold on this one because of her expertise. I’m not sure if you have all reviewed her numbers outside of Pathcodes but if you haven’t she is well connected and resourceful. She has quite a lot to offer to this conference. I’d like to put her to the test, if we are all in agreement?”

The decision to allow the trial was unanimous and so _____ (Berlin Reader) continued.

“Ok. We will reconvene by phone or email later this week or next week. I’d like to conference in the rest of our women’s board once there has been an adjustment period,” she stated before ending the call, wishing you all well in your coming week.

_____________

You knew this winding road.

The tall canopied trees.

The sound of this wind empty of other street noise and industrial chatter whipping past.

A breath of fresh, purified country air.

The eventual break of the long winding path to a house set back within a surrounding forever summer garden.

The fragrant roses planted closer to the door every year by grandfather on white day.

You had been out to their house plenty of times.

During the holidays.

On anniversaries.

Birthdays.

When family came into town.

It had always been a welcome space for you.

A familiar extension of him.

Your butler had been given instructions to drive you there in the staff car since Baekhyun had taken the family car.

You saw it parked in the circular brick drive and heard a familiar cry as you pulled your purse strap over your shoulder and opened the door.

“Aaaahhhhhh!! Maaaaa!!” She squealed happily as she came tumbling out the front door, her grandfather on her heels as she went, his huffed “조심해, 꼬마야! 조심해야 해!”

She slowed to a stop, her tutu flouncing down in a whoosh at her abrupt halt, as you dropped to your knees to embrace her, your entire world.

“Hello my beautiful, beautiful darling,” you whispered against her hair, kissing her hands, her cheeks, her closed tearful eyes.

She wriggled as you tried to hold her still against you and you knew that if she had the words to say it that she would tell you that you upset her by being gone all night long.

You could feel her little finger drawing her long syllabled protest against your cheek, letter by letter.

“I’m sorry I was gone. I’m sorry,” you whispered against her ear, feeling her little hands grab as much as she could of you, trying to pull herself up higher into your embrace.

“안녕하세요, 아버지, 건강하세요?” You said after standing and giving a cordial bow to your father-in-law who greeted you as always, with a small smile.

“저는 건강합니다. 집에 오신 걸 환영합니다, 딸,” he beckoned you forward with a slight tipping of his downturned hand and you went in obediently behind him with YunHee’s hand in yours.

____________

Your mother and mother-in-law both waited for you in the family den, anchoring grandmother who was nestled between them, their cups of tea on the low rise table before them.

They chattered noisily amongst themselves, a clucking of hens you once fondly dubbed the trio.

YunHee trilled in greeting, announcing her and your return, her voice rising in volume as she bounced around the sofa where her father sat with his back facing you.

You saw her sign to him happily, “Mommy is home.”

And when he asked her, her ever watchful eyes focused on his delicate fingers fluttering soundlessly, “are you happy?” she nodded and danced in her seat.

“Mother, Mother, Grandmother,” you tried to smile calmly as you spoke your greetings to each of them.

You stood just to the side of the sofa, remaining on your feet where he sat.

You caught your mother’s eyes as you approached.

Her gaze scaled you, appraising the distance you kept from him and your daughter.

“Get ready,” her unshakable gaze warned.

You greeted grandmother and mother-in-law in a similar fashion as you had greeted father-in-law before stepping closer to the sofa beside Baekhyun who was cuddling with YunHee.

She stood on the sofa to kiss his cheek and he turned into her kiss to blow a raspberry against her nose making her squeal even more.

“Pa pa ahhhh!” She chanted, dancing, swaying her hips side to side where he held her close to him, his back to you.

“We prepared lunch YunHee! Let’s go make a spot for Mommy now that she’s here!” Your mother called to her granddaughter approaching Baekhyun who raised her up into her grandmother’s arms to be carried away.  

Grandmother, mother and father-in-law all followed along, their carefree chatter escaping to the inner patio dining area where more white day roses waited.

You kept your gaze to the floor as you took the seat beside him but now that all distractions were gone, you turned to him to find his eyes trained on the now displaced cups of tea that had been such well placed props.

What exuberant life he had embodied in Yun Hee’s presence was forbidding, and listless now that he was left alone with you.

You contemplated telling him now that they had gone but felt the thought twisting your mouth shut.

“YunHee wouldn’t stop crying all night. I wanted to come get you this morning but she wouldn’t let me leave her alone for even a moment-”

“But you’re her father that’s-”

He sucked in a breath, exhaling sharply as a burst of tears and a cry finally forced their way out of his pressed lips.

He clapped his hands over his mouth at his tormented outburst, closing his eyes as he frantically tried to compose himself.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” was all he said, his tone stricken, after a moment longer of your halted silence before he stood, swiping his tear stained hands along his thighs, pulling nervously at the sleeves of his newly dry cleaned trench coat as he went and followed the trail your family had left.

If he had waited, you would have tucked his hair at the nape of his neck where his collar rose.

But he didn’t wait for you.

_______________

He sat beside you where YunHee placed him at the dining table, who swallowed every bite whole, and squealed between sips of milk, and clapped and danced all the while she ate, but was careful not to let his body brush or linger against yours.

He leaned away as you leaned forward to wipe her mouth with her napkin.

To offer her more food.

To mind her chewing.

To beg her to please sit down.

To smile at her playful twirling of her fork.

To comb her hair back into the French braid her father had done.

He had even threaded the ribbon through it like she liked.

She had seen you braid it like that once and demanded to have it that way for any special occasion ever since.

“I want that,” was one of the very first phrases she learned to sign and that was the first thing she requested.

Baekhyun had sent you a video when she first accomplished it that you stopped to watch on your way home from the office.

You remembered his tearful voice asking her to show him again and again as she pointed to a picture from one of your first anniversaries together where your hair had been done.  

“Ahhh wahhh daaa!” She exclaimed a final time in a triumphant tone and her father cheered and cheered before putting the phone down to run and grab the comb and brush and ribbons from your bedroom vanity where you kept them.

He let the phone record though they were out of focus while he sang to her when making bunny eared loops of ribbon and when he tied her shoes before they got up to dance.

“산토끼 토끼야

어디를 가느냐

깡총깡총 뛰면서

어디를 가느냐

산고개 고개를

나혼자 넘어서

토실토실 알밤을

주워서 올테야”

You felt the degree of heat in your cheeks rise the more you tried to keep your gaze trained on the second helpings of food you served him without looking at him whenever he asked for more.

“Here ____. You can serve,” your mother would prompt you the moment his request passed his lips, her hand pressing the cool steel of the ladle into your hand.

You kept your eyes on the ladle, shifting them only to his plate, avoiding their eyes, also.

It was pitiful.

It really must have been.

To watch you both.

______________

She napped immediately after brunch, again as she had been all afternoon, between you both, bringing you closer together to hold her up, with her lips pressed against your stomach where her younger sibling began to breathe with her arm around her father’s waist, his hand caressing her hair and back, careful to avoid bumping against you.

______________

After a bitter rebuke from grandmother, “right now it does not matter whether you are comfortable discussing this with us being present. We have YunHee to be concerned with now,” Baekhyun finally looked at you.

In all the days and nights that had belonged to you two alone, you had never seen the depth of panic you saw in his eyes.

And you were sorry.

You were sorry to see the prince of stained glass you epitomized, shattered before you and undone into this very broken, fearful, desperate man.  

Grandmother insisted that you went first.

And you respected her wish.

“I have always known that you loved me first. From the moment you saw me even. I was a heart that you aimed to possess. I knew you could provide for me. That you would take care of me. But I was never sure that I could ever feel safe with you…”

You took your time, unearthing what remained unspoken, seeing the cracks in his heart deepening the more you shared.

Seeing the iciness of every word that left your lips steadily building a rising barrier between you.

You coolly doled out mortar where he laid bricks.

“When YunHee was born it couldn’t have been at a more confusing time for us. We had just gotten engaged and still weren’t sure what we wanted in our relationship. Whether we were ready to move into a house from my old apartment or not. Yes, we knew that we belonged together and that is still very true. There is no one in the world that I could love, the way that I love you Baekhyun. But-”

His unsettled tears stopped you.

And where you paused, he began to speak.

“I always knew that one day I would fail you. I knew one day that no matter how much I loved you that I would make a mistake that you would never forgive me for. I knew you were waiting for me to fail you. And my anxiety over the years is not something I can blame anyone but myself for.”

“I shouldn’t have played that role. You never explicitly asked to fill the role but then again you did. I had to be worthy of you. And I wanted you to love me. I didn’t want to possess you. I never wanted that. I thought I could beat the odds. I thought that if I did what you needed and I proved you wrong then maybe one day you would accept me as the man that I am. I was hoping that one day you would stop treating me like your father and that you would finally see me as your husband, and your life partner,” he kept his eyes on you as his tears fell.

And you couldn’t discern what was worse to endure.

Your truths, finally, simultaneously, pushed out and through to the surface, their dreadful petals made bare in this summer garden of love in front of your mutual, unassuming family, with your children at the foot of it, helpless.

Or

The way that his eyes watched as you finally came into realization of how he actually saw you.

How he had always seen you.

Not the princess destined, as you’d always believed, for her fated prince.

But an ice queen in form and shape only dressed as a princess.

They shifted uncomfortably as they waited for either of you to continue.

They had been accomplices to his misadventures in this hapless affair.

Cheering on his every attempts to melt the ice from your heart.

What must they, all of them, have thought of his daring summit?

They had goaded him on day after day and year after year to amount to what?

Your rage from the night before shuffled forth to the forefront emboldening you.

You felt it rising in you as if it were a weapon raised and poised to strike.

Did they all see you as some monstrous beast to contain?

Were you the very ice dragon guarding the catacombs below that the prince dueled to win his slumbering princess's heart and favor?

“Why didn’t you go see YunHee in the hospital? Why did you leave her alone?”

You barely whispered the pointed, poison-tipped question but he heard you, his gaze unwavering though torn.

It was as if he had stripped himself of his armor, piece by piece.

Until there was nothing left for you to pierce but his very bare heart beneath his flushed, humble skin that he exposed to you, willingly.

“I couldn’t leave you. I just couldn’t _____. I couldn’t walk away from you. And I couldn’t walk into a future without you. I couldn’t bare that thought. That if I left you by yourself that something would happen to you and I would never see you again. We have never spent a day without each other since we met. I could never imagine a life without you. And I couldn’t look at her, knowing how much I loved her the moment you told me she existed and be able to endure all of the things they had to do for and to her, all the while wondering if it would be enough and if I would lose her also. I thought I would lose the both of you and I couldn’t choose. No. I did choose. I chose you. I was selfish. I am not proud of that. I am not proud of how weak I am when it comes to us. The things I am willing and not willing to do. I never imagined myself this way.”

His eyes were reddening but he blinked the tears from his vision, forcing himself, his body trembling like it did when he was trying to hold back deeper sobs, to remain focused on you.

“Was that why you left us last night? You have hated me since the day she was born. I know it in my heart. That hatred you’ve kept for me has overgrown and I feel like there’s no room left for us…” he sniffled as he looked at your daughter where she pulled him closer, cooing in her sleep.

“I don’t hate you-”

“Hate is a very strong word, yes. But you are disappointed in me. It’s in everything you say to me. It's everything you’ve stopped saying too,” he wiped his tears from his face as you felt your own falling.

“Baekhyun I…”

“What do you want to do, ____? We can’t keep doing this.” His tone was softer as if he was measuring out what he could do with the failing strength he had to say what he needed to say.

You knew how difficult this was for him.

To admit his errors not only to you but in front of your family and your daughter.

You knew that you caused him ever more heartache now because you had left last night.

If he had given you space to be angry maybe you could have resolved this alone.

But turning over the thought again and again in your mind, you knew that it wasn’t just that the tumult of his anxiety that had suddenly driven you away and into the fright of night all the way across town.

It was as he said.

You were disappointed.

A word that was greater in meaning than hatred.

It had an indefinite end to it.

And the fact that he knew it and admitted that aloud here…

You had wounded him deeply.

To say that in front of his parents, your mother, your family, because they refused to allow you another opportunity to delay this resolution privately.

They knew better than to leave the two of you to it anyway.

But you knew that he would allow you to hurt him even this way because he loved you too much.

And you were horrified at how justified you still felt.

Even in your tempered disappointment, you felt your heart breaking for the way he was hurting so openly and willingly for you.

“Baekhyun...I am disappointed. I am disappointed that you did that. I feel that I have a right to say that. I...I know what you’re saying and I understand what you mean. I know that you love me. I know what you would be willing to sacrifice everything for me. I...I’m sorry. I am. I am sorry,” he looked away from you as you began to speak.

“When you did that I felt so angry. I was so angry that you abandoned her when she needed you the most. I was so angry that you entrusted her safety to other people and that you never went yourself to make sure that she was safe. I was angry that you could be so cowardly for some superfluous reason that seemed nonconsequential at most.”

“When you did that...I did think of my father. I thought of the way he had abandoned me and I resented you for showing YunHee that. Even afterwards when we brought her home and you did your best taking care of her, doing everything possible for her to the point where I became the primary breadwinner for our household...I was still angry at you. I am still angry at you...I couldn’t forgive it...it was the one thing you promised. That you would be different. And I can’t let go of that. That anger. And when you tried to force me to be vulnerable with you the other night as if you didn’t know why I was so angry...I hated everything all the more. I was so angry at you again when you didn’t defend me when I told you what Minseok said. I was so angry at you.”

“And it was then that I realized that I never trusted you. Never,” you sobbed as he began to sob also, turning further away from you, YunHee clasped him tighter, shrinking into his embrace.

“I know…” he answered between hiccuping cries.

____________

You placed YunHee in your mother’s arms as she brought her up and away to the nursery her great grandparents created for their grand and great grandchildren in their summer garden home.

Baekhyun waited for you to continue, after wiping again at his eyes, his nose and mouth with the tissues grandmother had given to you both.

“Baekhyun I don’t know what to do. I want what’s best for YunHee. I want what’s best for our family. I want her to have her father in her life. I want to forgive you. I want everything to be...I want her to have a happy home,” you said to him, willing him to turn and face you.

He seemed to hear your telepathic call and turned to face you, bleary-eyed. Both his nose and cheeks were splotched with red where he had been wiping away tears.

“I want YunHee to have her mother in her life. I want her to have her family, both yours and mine with her. I want us to get through this. I want you to trust me. I want you to forgive me. I want you to forgive me for where I haven’t defended you. I want you to forgive your father. I want us to have a happy home too,” he answered in kind, his cadence lifeless.

“B-Baekhyun,” you sputtered past fresh tears, a new look of dread and knowing on his face as you touched your stomach.

You didn’t have to say it.

His eyes welled up in such petrified anguish.

It was as if he was looking at you in a glass enclosed box without a way to get you out of it as it sunk lower and deeper into the ocean’s dark depths.

He couldn’t touch you.

_________

“I had a dream about my grandson after YunHee’s first birthday. And I’ve dreamed that dream night after night until last night when it changed. And where I saw my great grandson once before he was no longer there. There was an empty space where he once was.”

Grandfather spoke in deliberate rounded tones as you and Baekhyun both tried to quiet your sobs.

“I hope you don’t do what you’re considering.” He finished after a pregnant pause.

You gasped at his insinuation though you knew better than to act so startled.

Wasn’t that the very reason for the anguish on Baekhyun’s face only a moment ago?

You were the only one hearing this dream for the first time. Of that you were sure.

“Before I came today I did wonder what I should do...I want our child but things with Baekhyun were not certain and I wasn’t sure what else to do. Had we not come here today...I honestly don’t know what I would have done. I don’t know if I could have seen that through,” you looked at your hands against your stomach where Yun Hee had been and where this tiny child was.

Grandmother spoke up, clearing her throat.

“Our families are united by YunHee. Her future is very important to us. This was once such a loving match. But hearing your stories and perspectives, we realize that we saw more in it than what you saw _____ for the sake of our grandson,” grandmother spoke to you now, in tones not as round and deliberately thoughtful.

You straightened.

“I come from an old way and an old life that encourages bonds made in marriage to be kept sacred no matter the cost. But where there is marriage lacking in this situation there are children. And more than one at that. And so we consider this similar to a bond made by marriage that cannot be undone.”

“I would advise that you spend time apart from YunHee, together. I would advise that you allow us to keep her for the summer. I would advise that you decide, grandson, what you would like this relationship to be. I would advise that you decide what kind of father and husband you will be going forward. I would advise that you hear the concerns of your loved one and that you take responsibility and respond for the sake of your children. I would advise that you truly consider each one of her thoughts. I would advise that you both seek counseling and resolve to marry before the close of this year.”

Baekhyun raised his eyes to his grandparents, his mother, your mother, your family in terrified protest to the demands that they made.

He caught your eyes watching him and turned from you, embarrassed.

Was he sorry that they were impressing this upon you now?

Was he sorry because he felt that it was his fault?

“I can’t spend a night without her, grandmother,” he answered the demand, an edge entering his voice.

“She will be close by. We have an interview this afternoon with a preschool close to us that she can attend-”

“Why can’t we actually discuss this? We are her parents,” he answered, his tone rising in exasperation.

“As her parents, you have every right to protest. Please do not misunderstand me,” his grandmother stated, and he snapped his mouth shut.

“What you must also understand, grandson, is that we are not willing to give up on this relationship even though it is very clear that the two of you are uncertain. You cannot see what we see. You have not lived long enough to understand the endurance, resilience and the strength relationships truly require. And because of that we will not let you abandon this. You will come to an absolute resolution that benefits both your daughter and this new life,” grandmother stood after finishing her statement, bringing forward a school voucher pamphlet she had kept upon her lap while she sat listening to you both.

She placed it before you both, at the center of the table.

Baekhyun received it first, reviewing it several times before placing it on the table directly in front of you.

_____________

“I know that the pain your father dealt you was great. But I had no idea that it would turn you into this kind of person, ____. How could you do this? For years?” Your mother waited until you placed the pamphlet on the table before she spoke.

She had always been the one to encourage you forward.

She championed your fearless spirit, and your passionate nature.

But she knew the other side of it.

Both the cause and the pain.

She knew the height of your fury.

And she wasn’t apologizing for how things had gone.

She too kept her eyes open and she brought things to your attention every step along the way.

But she allowed you freedom where he perhaps did not have it.

And maybe that was the source of the cloud of guilt cast over her face.

“Why would you string someone along who loves you? Is your heart that broken? Or are you that afraid to trust?”

You fought the rage that twisted within your mouth.

Pummeling back the very words you knew you shouldn't say to her, a verbal assault you could never return from.

Not only would you injure your mother but you would destroy yourself in trying to deflect the light shining on you.

Instead you began to cry.

“I don’t know how to forgive him. I don’t know how to make peace with him. I don’t know how to move on. I hate him for what he did to us. I hate him for lying to you. I hate him for forcing you to be alone. I hate him for abandoning me. I hate him but he doesn’t care that I hate him. He doesn’t care how I feel. He cares about the way that he looks. He cares about what other people think of him. He never cared about whether I liked him or whether I loved him as a father. He never wanted a relationship with me. Or you. And when I realized that it just completely ruined me. He doesn’t care about how you feel either...he never cared about us. He could never be held responsible. He would never ever ever be found guilty. He would never ask for forgiveness. And so I’m left here with this pain and this fear that there are men out there who will do these things to you...and they don’t care…”

And you looked at your lover then.

Your heart.

Your soul.

Your conscious.

Your everything.

Begging him to forgive you.

Begging him to know that you knew how pitiful and selfish you had been.

Begging him to understand what strength this rage had given you.

How it had for years and years and years sustained you and kept you safe from harm.

Begging him to know that you loved him in an inexplicably unrelenting way.

And he answered you in kind, finally reaching to wipe away the tears on your cheek that mirrored his own.

He shifted closer to you, the ice of your heart cracking though not melting the closer the heat of his heart pressed forward against the barriers you both haphazardly rebuilt and dismantled as the day now greeted the first dimming shades of night, coming to a clear draw.

You sat on the floor of the garden before your family who waited, patiently throughout the deconstruction.

He pressed his lips to the top of your head.

And you whimpered into his chest as his welcoming arms finally received you, his earnest touch finding your womb.

“But I cared about you. I cared about you more than I cared about myself. I was willing to do anything you asked. I cared about what you thought of me...and that’s all that ever mattered to you.”

LYON II PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT III./Pt I. “Dirty Chai”

Length - 8,637

Mood - Amorous, Captivated

Pairing - Baekhyun x Reader

Warning - Mature for sexual references

“You’re perfect

I’ll fill up your empty heart

To the brim with me”

-Baekhyun “Stay Up” feat. Beenzino

You tucked the slim rose gold circle back into your pocketbook after checking your complexion once again.

The inside of the cafe he had suggested to meet, a blend of cream and taupe walls, sky blue ceiling and plates, silver and earthenware cups, and cherry wood furniture, a modern update to a cultural staple, was tranquil and enchanting as expected.

There were a mixture of students stopping to take a break from their studies, young couples side by side at tables sharing small café plates of tartine between them while enjoying a peaceful weekend, and elder patrons ordering an un déca to take to the terrace, the prime spot for people watching, the morning paper rolled and tucked against their side as they carried their cup out into the breezy afternoon air.

You’d taken a barstool window seat at the front, where you also observed the comings and goings of café patrons.

It was a non assuming, homey weekend in Lyon yet within your ribcage you felt as though your heart was spastically beating out of time every minute that he had yet to arrive.

You felt a jittery whirlwind of unbidden exhilaration and nerves after your chance reintroduction at L’ambassade.

You knew you weren’t fooling him with your, “my schedule should be clear soon. It’s just a crazy month,” texts.

In fact, every time you sent one of those after another “so what does your week look like?” texts from him he would call you after an hour, shifting the conversation to something entirely apart from what you had previously talked about, sharing an anecdote about his day, and always asking you more about yours. It was after one of those conversations that he met you again, somewhat at your invitation but moreso because you told him about the event, at a charity concert by a classical pianist spotlighting the entirety of Chopin’s Nocturnes. He came with a friend whom he introduced you to, an equally connected young man that disappeared from his side before the actual event leaving him alone to find a way to you without his wingman.

Later, on the phone, he continued to ask a lot about your hobbies; recreating Pinterest boards in your office as vision boards for potential clients complete with fabric and scent details, thrifting with your best friend whether here in Lyon or Marseille for vinyls, unique home decor, and vintage seasonal wear you liked as a reward to yourself for another happy customer, volunteering at the plant nursery you’d been going to since you were a child when they needed help, and told you about his; taking a foodie tour of the city with his grandmother and mother when she was in town to visit them, staying in after long stretches of activity for his radio broadcast to game, ordering in lunch and dinner at his studio’s practice room to try his hand at a new piano composition unbothered, spending time with his grandparents at their country home he had bought for them after his first paycheck to help around the house with their gardening only to be rewarded with a home cooked meal.

The conversations were unhurried and disarming, his tone of voice, always genial, growing warmer the more you shared.

Sometimes you were still confused at how two low key individuals would choose to meet one another in an environment altogether separate from their private big hearted, blissful personalities.

Why had he chosen to host that party?

Why had you chosen to go?

Couldn’t you have just as easily bumped into him while out thrifting with your mother and he, out on a foodie tour with his grandmother and mother?

Wouldn’t that have been more organic and natural to affection than to see each other as you had at L’ambassade, in the ambitious, commanding personas you reserved for the public?

”I hope to see you soon,” he’d say towards the end, in a hushed confiding tone and you’d pause hearing his hopes crumbling until you answered, “Mhm. If my schedule clears up.”

You confided in your best friend (Marseille Reader) after one such conversation, saying that “Mm what if it’s not all that I think it will be anyways. There’s nothing worse than having your time just...wasted. After all the anticipation…” But she made fun of you where you hoped to find someone to laugh with.

“I’m so through with you! After he hopped in the car to come have pizza and watch your favorite movie, your mother suddenly called and said that she had an accident at the shop in the middle of the night? I mean...I tried my best not to blow your cover but really____?”

You were sheepish at her blatant though truthful accusations about your dubious attempts to avoid being left alone with him.

“I thought you were IN LIKE with the guy! He was ALL you would talk about whenever you found the time and now when he hopped in the car, and ditched his own party, something Prince Charming didn’t even really do, need I remind you Cinderella, to get to know you, you’re going to text your mom and chicken out? I was too embarrassed to laugh.”

You took a breath to respond but knew that you couldn’t explain it away. You were out thrifting at the time and she had moved on to the next clothing rack by the time you’d thought of a response anyways.

As soon as she (Marseille Reader) had taken off from L’ambassade, you were texting your mother to call you with some excuse so that you could get out of this possible date slash round two of whatever you had started back at his party.

And much to your shame, she did call but asked you about “the spontaneous affair” later.

He was all you could talk about.

He was the person you had wanted to meet the most.

Well...one of the people you had wanted to meet the most.

It felt wrong to feel drawn to him, and to desire his presence as you did.

Whose presence do I desire?

It felt wrong now that he was looking at you, sharing not only your space but the sweat of your dance upon his own skin.

It felt too rushed.

Too soon.

How could you know something as surely as you felt within your soul that though he was a stranger to you in name, in touch, in scent, his aura told you otherwise.

Truer was he becoming to the drawing of happiness you had inactively but subconsciously crafted when thinking “this is the kind of man he will be.”

Could you trust that blueprint when you had failed before, falling for those who turned out to be fallen, faithless princes instead?

But I have known you before.

The whole world has known our story as some sugar spun fairytale but it’s real.

It’s before me, finally.

I can’t let the sun go down another day without being in your presence.

Without being by your side.

When he looked at you as you took that call from your mother.

When he called you after you sent another frightened “I need space” text.

You knew that he knew it.

He felt it.

And he waited.

More patiently than you honestly expected him to be.

His tone of voice was ever cheerful, ever sweet, ever thoughtful.

When you lied to him and to ___ (Marseille Reader) that you had to see about your Mom and hoped you could see him again another time, he paused. His entire being seemed to slow in motion, his head turning, though not suspiciously, but genuinely concerned that he had done something irrevocably wrong.

“I hope everything is ok?” Was all he said at first and the car was quiet as _____ (Marseille Reader) slowed at the light and made to turn the car around to return to the club.

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine,” _____ (Marseille Reader) sighed as she came to a stop.

You felt your breath coming in high and fast as you waited for him to go.

“I really hope everything is ok. Maybe we can see the movie another time?” He asked, his inflection, meant to be both compassionate and trusting, drew your gaze from your screen where you looked at your mother’s most recent text.

“I thought you were at an event tonight. Why would you need an excuse to leave? Is everything ok? Are you safe?”

You tapped the button to darken the screen.

His eyes took you in, gauging your false worry and concern over your mother’s shop.

But though you were sure the lie you crafted was clear as the night’s starless sky, and that he was merely seeing the extent of the growing anxiety you were sweating to contain, he only gave a small, tender smile that lit his eyes with knowing.

“If it’s ok, I’ll call you later? Just to make sure you’re ok. Ok?”

And after so many phone calls, later here we finally are, you thought to yourself as he entered the cafe, took a cursory glance around the place and upon settling his eyes on you, smiling a smile that was for you and you alone.

As if to say, finally.

“________,” he greeted you as he came closer to your perch.

“Hi,” you smiled back, remembering your Mom’s hands in your hair that same night you fled to her shop.

“Don’t be afraid to love someone, _______. There were boys you met in school. You have had some heartbreaks now as a young adult. Things don’t always appear as they seem to be. We’ve talked about those times. We’ll talk about everything that happens no matter who it is. But life is about experience. Life is to be lived in both joy and pain, no matter what happened before. Don’t be afraid, my darling, my baby girl,” she smoothed her hands through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp as you turned your face into her stomach and cried.

————

“Café allongé? Really? I would have thought…”

You knew you were pulling a face and his eyes watched as you playfully judged his choice.

He sniffed at the dirty chai you ordered too before leaving the café.

“That smells so good. The dirty chai you ordered.” Did he have a thing for scents too?

“It’s one of my favorites. Have you ever tried a chai before? If you like café allongé you might like a dirty chai. It also has espresso in it but has more flavor from the milk and spices used. Milk drinks are more for breakfast but ah well. My mom uses cloves and fresh ginger when she makes it for me at home,” you stated, stopping beside him where you walked to bring the steaming to go cup up for him to smell.

Stepping closer to where you offered him your uncovered cup, he took a hearty inhale, nodding once with his eyes closed, a fan of golden brown lashes against his pinkened cheeks.

“That does smell delicious,” he said as he opened his eyes.

His eyes resembled the spice blend swirling beneath the steam from your uncovered cup.

Delicious, he had said in English.

The slight spring breeze carried his voice high above you, above the square framed by the Cathedral Saint Jean to the sun, beaming brightly atop the clouds.

You stood still moving carefully to replace the top without wasting your coffee all over yourself from nerves.

“I wasn’t sure what you would like more,” he said after you finished.

You could tell that he had watched you until you successfully replaced the top.

The nonchalant way his hand slid back into his pocket that wasn’t holding his coffee cup as if he was braced to pull the cup from you if it began to fall.

“What do you mean?” You asked, sipping briefly.

“I mean...I didn’t know if you would like to go out dancing again. You seemed to have so much fun when we were out,” he tilted his head back to swallow a large gulp.

The way he winced afterwards let you know that it was as bitter as you thought.

“Ah well dancing is fun too...it’s nice to just be out today. Thank you for inviting me,” you shook off his assumption that you were bored with his choice when it was entirely the opposite.

It was a beautiful spring afternoon in Lyon for window shopping, most specifically at Les Jouets des Anges, for his nephew and niece who were visiting next month.  

“It’s just...if I can be honest with you I don’t go to nor do I host events like that often. I’m more of a homebody,” he chuckled at his sudden confession but it was the expression that came over his face that made you chuckle too.

“I can relate to that. After the past couple months of back to back to back schedules, it is so nice to just do something low key like today. What kind of gifts are you looking for?” You asked as you neared the shop’s ruby red and gold lettered facade.

You followed him into the shop, greeting the shopkeepers and waiting for him to explain his reason for stopping in, that he was looking for a unique doll for his niece and potentially a new toy car for his nephew.

You noticed the pauses between his phrases, as if he were searching for the right words to use and remembered that he had mentioned still not feeling as comfortable with using French as he was his native language, a revelation that made you think back to the combination of English, Korean, and French you had heard him using during his evening broadcast.

The shopkeepers brought you around the shop, showing you the best that they could offer, and he was considerate of their offers though you could tell that none of them were exactly the items that he was looking for.

You left without purchasing anything at all, and continued to wander together, another swift breeze wafting the citrus like scent of magnolias your direction.

“Ah, that's a shame that there wasn’t anything there. I know that she does have a doll at home but it’s dress is older and so I was hoping to find a new one,” he frowned as he suddenly brought his phone from his back pocket, and swiped at the screen.

“Here they are,” he spoke softly, and again you came closer until you both were standing beside the bench where the magnolia blossoms had fallen from their tree onto the seat.

He gingerly brushed the blossoms to the floor, making space for you both to sit side by side so that he could show you the photo.

She sat in his lap in the photo, a little boy whom you assumed to be her elder brother stood beside them where they sat, his head leaned on his uncle’s shoulder, who had his arms wrapped around them both.

You saw the doll and action figure he had mentioned to the shopkeeper only moments ago on the floor in their boxes, newly unwrapped Christmas presents.

Their sincere smiles melted the last dregs of your anxiety and you allowed yourself another deep exhale.

“They’re beautiful. Both of them. How old are they?” You asked and he brightened at your question, telling you all about his brother’s children whom would be visiting soon to celebrate his birthday with him.

“So most of your family still lives in South Korea, where you’re from?” You asked, turning towards him and placing your pocketbook against your stomach so that you could cross your legs.

He nodded, turning towards you as you turned, crossing his opposing leg, his arm stretched along the back of the bench, his phone tucked into his front pocket, his left hand on his thigh.

“Yes my grandparents and I are the only ones who emigrated here when I started school. My parents could not afford to come too, otherwise they would have. My brother and his wife were just starting their family when I planned to move so they weren’t able to come too,” he spread the fingers of his left hand wide along his thigh as he pushed and pulled his palm along the fabric.

“Why Lyon of all places in France?” You asked, genuinely curious as he pursed his lips, a gesture that told you that he was again thinking about how to say what was on his mind in a way that you would understand.

“Well back home, my brother, my father, and I, and a lot of men in our country are required to enter military service within a certain time period. I decided to go in as soon as I was old enough to do so because my parents and I had discussed what I would like to do in my professional career.”

“I have always loved music and had learned to play the piano when I was very young. There was a piece I learned in school by a French composer and I thought that in addition to learning about genres from other countries that maybe it would be interesting to travel and live in a different country. I did not know any French when I decided to come here for my studies but I thought I could learn and just give it a try.”

“So my grandparents decided to move with me. My grandmother teased me and said it wasn’t realistic to send me off on my own to a foreign place where she could not be sure I would eat well.”

He paused at this part of the story as you giggled at another of his shameless admissions, a quirk of a meek smile spreading from one corner of his mouth to the other.

“How could you just uproot your grandparents like that for the sake of food?” You quipped and he laughed aloud, shaking his head and hands simultaneously, “아니, 아니!”

“But you haven’t even tried my grandmother’s cooking. There’s just something about home cooking, you know,” he said in his own defense and you laughed all the more, falling forward and doubling over at his shamelessness.

You hadn’t meant to reach out to brace yourself against him, one hand on his thigh while the other arm cradled your own stomach.

But he didn’t pull away from your touch.

Instead you felt him lean to shift his weight and allow himself to support you.

You sobered up, leaning back, brushing your curls away from your face.

His eyes followed your assent, his cheeks somehow pinker as a sudden glimmer took over his gaze.

“So you moved your dear grandparents here from their home and then you went to Conservatoire National Superieur de Musique et de danse de Lyon for piano pedagogy?” You remembered that had come up during one of your initial conversations after you confessed that you wanted to take your time before considering seriously talking to anyone. Especially with the way that you had met. It’s easy to get confused.

He apologized immediately, thinking that you were assuming that he was only interested in coming back to your place with you and your best friend potentially for...well.

“Yes, they moved with me and I stayed with them on the weekends especially when my family came to visit and during the holidays. I think my grandmother especially was worried not only about my diet but also about my being alone without anyone to talk to.”

“That was another reason that I started my radio program. I wanted to work on using French more and more often. I had experience during my high school years doing a radio broadcast for our school as well. But in college it was different as all things are. I had a lot more freedom in my programming and tried to make it more than just being about myself. I’m not sure when it started to be shared outside of the school circulation but eventually I was approached by producers to make this a regular gig after I completed my training. I was surprised to be received as well as I was and happy that my French improved, even just a little.”

His smile was shy when you nodded and said that you could understand him.

“I think it would be wonderful to learn a new language. I of course know French, but also English, and Portuguese. It would be interesting to learn Korean. The more you are able to rely on yourself and not have to hire outside to supplement needs, the more marketable you are. Definitely worth it to try to pick up a new language if you have the time,” you said, meaning every word that you said.

He seemed to take you at your word, leaning slightly closer to you.

“Also, if you’re still looking for a new dress for your niece’s doll, I...may know a dressmaker that can help you out. Would you be ok with sending me that picture? When would you need the dress by?” You asked, pulling your phone from where it was tucked within your pocketbook.

He gasped at your offer and looked shocked at the sincere way you looked at him, your phone cradled in your hands.

“I...you don’t have to do that. I have been looking on and off but just have not found anything that looks right for her. Or him. That’s so nice of you to offer. Really.” Again, his really was in English.

“Well I don’t mind. Really.” You intoned as he did, his shy smile beaming ever brighter.

“I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as a blush bloomed against his neck.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, placing your chin on your hand anchored by your knee, blinking at him expectantly.

He exhaled aloud, blowing a raspberry as he tapped through his phone and you felt your phone buzzing within your palms.

“Thank you,” he had written below the photo now in your inbox.

______________

The evening fast approaching, he drove you back to your flat after you took another walk along the streets, from which you had walked to meet him earlier that afternoon, his hand fidgeting on the stick shift where your hand rested on your own thigh only inches away.

___________

“So should I send the items to your grandparents or should I bring it to you whenever we meet again?” You asked after you shut the door to his Audi and met him on the sidewalk where he stood waiting for you.

He flushed again at your mention of meeting again.

Before you left the Cathedral’s square, he had asked you out to coffee again or maybe dinner out to which you had agreed.

“That’s up to you and also the dressmaker. Would it be ready when we see each other again? Did you want to go out again tomorrow? Or next week?” He asked, as you stepped closer, your heels clicking against the pavement as you went.

“Mm that is true. It would be a shame if it was not ready in time. Is it ok if I have your grandparents’ address then?” You asked, offering him your phone which he took, stepping closer still, to type the address in the note you’d left open under the title “Operation: Toy Delivery.”

He smirked at the title, slipping the phone from his hand to yours so that your hands overlapped and for a moment his hand held yours.

“I was serious about improving my French, if you were serious about learning Korean,” he said, your eyes dancing from his eyes down to his broad shoulders in his trench coat that towered above you, the sun crowning him in its rays.

You were a breath apart now but you spoke in your normal voice, feeling the vibrations bounce back to you as you stood within the cradle of his broad chest.

“So next time, French and Korean lessons?”

“Just next time?” He asked, the end of his question lifting in wonder.

You watched his lips form each syllable he uttered in English.

“Well...it depends on the level you want to reach,” you breathed.

And his smirk broadened.

“I want to be proficient,” he said, again in English.

Now you were flushed to the soles of your feet.

But you smiled all the more, relaxing ever more.

His gaze was ever watchful and when you smiled, when you really smiled, he took your hands in his where they were clasped in front of you keeping your pocketbook still where it rested against your stomach.

His touch was gentle, as you expected, his slim fingers weaving through yours.

“내 미소로 너의 미소의 아름다움을 만지고 싶다,” he whispered in the most tender tone.

“I...what did that mean?” You shivered, coming further into his embrace, the sun falling to insignificance behind him.

“I want to touch the beauty of your smile with my smile,” he whispered, his tone ever more tender as he waited for you to realize what he had asked.

You felt a quivering in your knees but held his hands more firmly, tipping forward and up towards him to kiss the corner of his mouth.

He bit his lip as you settled back on your feet, his hands still holding yours tightly.

You stepped further into his embrace and lifted yourself up again on your toes, feeling him bring you closer, his head turning just in time.

_______________

Two weeks later

He sent you a photo of the gift on his grandparents’ dining table, and a video of his niece and nephew opening the gifts while squealing in delight at the matching outfits for both of the children and each of their toys, crafted by your mother at your request, unbeknownst to him.

You looked at the tag “from your uncle’s good friend” you had written coyly and wondered if he had thought you were passively aggressively friendzoning him.

He called you later that night to thank you again.

“You really didn’t have to do that. I can’t tell you how much they loved the outfits and the extra toys you sent. My brother and his wife, my parents, my grandparents, they all want to thank you personally. It was such a nice gift, ______,” his tone reverent.

______________

A week later

Weaving his fingers between yours once you stepped up to the sidewalk from the car, you walked once again alongside the magnolias, a chattering of birds following you as you spoke together translating phrases and teaching one another new ones.

“너는 오늘 너무 아름다워”

“J'aime cette couleur sur vous”

“나는 너와 함께 시간을 보내는 것을 정말 좋아한다”

“J'ai hâte de vous revoir”

His kisses at your door that night were ever more demonstrative in their tenderness.

The way he cupped your cheeks in his palms, and cradled you into his chest, swaying slightly when you wrapped your arms around his waist, accepting his warmhearted embrace.

___________

Two days later

“But why didn’t you tell me that your mother made them? I...I would like to pay her back-”

“But that’s the point of a gift. It’s not about paying me back. I paid for the fabric and I did also pay my Mom for her time. I know better than that,” you chuckled, picking up your fork to get another bite from the cake you two were sharing.

He pulled the plate of cake from your reach, so that you had to look at him.

“I’m serious, _____. I haven’t even met your mother yet. But my family knows all about these gifts and about you. I would like to meet her and tell her thank you, myself,” he insisted, his tone dropping into his chest.

“Well...ok then, Boss,” you said, reaching for the plate of cake, which he gave to you after holding it away from your grasp a moment longer, kissing and sucking away the cream at the corner of your mouth.

“Was that so hard,” he laughed at your bashful frown.

____________

Two weeks later

“This is my grandmother and mother. 할머니, 엄마 this is ____, and her mother,” he gestured between the three women, the jade green 청자 vases he had ordered and his brother had brought back with him on the center table of your mother’s floral shop.

Your mother, her eyes large as saucers at the size and variety of the vases, quickly began to ask the sweet women, his grandmother and mother, about traditional floral arrangements. He sat between his mother, grandmother and your mother and you sat opposite him helping them to understand one another in their mutual excitement that you felt had less to do with the vases the longer you listened.

_____________

That same week of your birthday

“I trust you, but I don’t trust the sidewalk,” you laughed, feeling his gait slow to awkward shuffling steps framing your tentative ones.

“I won’t let you fall. I promise,” he whispered, brushing his lips against the top of your ear before letting his hands fall.

“Lumière Fourmi closed for an exclusive event...” you gasped at the title, Ever After, showing in each of the window panes.

He took your hand in his, ushering you through the front doors where a banner sparkled under the pearl white ceiling lights.

“Happy Birthday, _____”

——————————-

After a shared bucket of popcorn while cuddling in the plush velvet seats

“Monsieur, Madame, your dessert has arrived,” your lone attendant of the evening announced as he wheeled the cake tray in, complete with a frosted ice bucket of champagne.

After handing the matches to him, they bowed and made their exit.

He sat up, lighting each of the candles one by one, spelling your name.

He sang you the birthday song, his voice like his embrace, warm-hearted, and buttery like toffee, in French.

You clapped enthusiastically, tears in your eyes as you leaned forward to kiss him in thanks.

“마음에 드세요?” He drawled, seemingly happily dizzy from your successive kisses.

“응! 너무 좋아! 정말 고마워!” You took his cheeks in your hands, leaning forward to kiss him again.

He held you to him after the last kiss, murmuring throatily, “Serez-vous ma petite amie?”

Though at this point you knew it was purely a formality, you sat back, his hands resting on your mid back.

“Mille fois oui,” you answered, your gaze straightforward and your heart clear.

_______________________

After a mouthful of cake sweetened kisses

“What movie did you learn that phrase from? I didn’t teach you that,” you joked, snuggling into his arms, as the credits began to roll.

He rolled his eyes, licking his lips after a beat.

“사랑에 빠진 사람은 한계를 모른다,” he murmured between kisses.

_____________________

Finally, at your apartment later that evening  

“Wow, this is such a beautiful place, ______,” he said the moment that you led him into your flat.

“Thank you,”  you said, pulling down at the hem of the sleeve of his trench coat as he stood in wonder.

He looked down at where you tugged at him and giggled as he shrugged out of his trench coat, and waited for you to hang it at the door before you let him know to make himself comfortable.

He stepped out of his dress shoes at the door, placing them so that their toes faced the door, before he walked towards the living area where your curtains were held open.

You moved through your apartment, dreamily, gathering blankets, pillows, placing a new unopened toothbrush on the bathroom counter that you bought for yourself but hadn’t opened yet.

He stood at the window, leaned against the pane, viewing the street below where his car was parked across the street after bringing you both back to your flat.

You stood, unable to move closer.

Though not entirely in fear.

But in peaceful stillness.

In absolute incandescent happiness.

“This has been such a great birthday,” you announced, seeing him jolt slightly at the sudden sound of your voice.

He turned to walk towards you, and you met him in the middle of your hardwood living room floor.

“I’m sorry that I kept you out so late. I hope it’s ok that I stay just this once,” he winced and you rolled your eyes at him.

“I insisted that you come by instead of driving all the way back to your grandparents. I would have been worried if something happened to you out there at this time of night. You forget that both your grandmother and mother have my number.”

He shrugged, his eyes drifting to the blankets and pillows in your arms.

“Let me help you with these then?” He offered and took them, placing them on your sofa and you followed to sit beside him.

Sitting which inevitably became cuddling.

“I’m embarrassed at how easy it is to end up like this,” you admitted into his neck, feeling his throaty chuckle against your lips.

“Is it bad that I’m not?” He murmured, wrapping his arms around you.

“That makes you sound like a player though,” you said, leaning out of his arms, to gauge his reaction.

His brow rose at your insinuation.

“I…?”

He released you from his chest, taking your hands in his instead.

“I don’t want there to be misunderstandings between us. I’m not here for any other reason than that I really truly like you. But I feel like there’s a barrier between us no matter how sincere I am. Please help me to understand that,” he spoke in low tones, the pads of his thumbs gently tracing the veins on the backs of your hands.

Could he feel the jump in your pulse at his heartfelt inquiry?

“...well…”

“We don’t have to go too fast. I’m not asking you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I can leave if you feel burdened. I don’t want to harm you, ____. Ever,” he brought your hands to his lips, kissing the back and hearts of your palms twice.

“I’m not afraid of you touching me. Or holding me. It’s not the physical intimacy that scares me.  I can feel our hearts becoming closer the longer we spend time together moving at a pace that seems rushed when I think about the amount of time we’ve actually spoken to one another.”

“But my heart says another thing. My heart wants more time. More and more time. It’s so easy to talk with you. To spend time with you. To just be.”

“But do you really, ____? Sometimes I feel that our hearts are in the same place. I feel that we both feel safe together. And that you’re beginning to trust me. But then I can feel you pulling away as if you want to hide instead of remaining in the same place with me. Is there something about me that makes you feel uncomfortable?”

He kept his eyes on the back of your palms, tracing your veins with his forefinger as he gradually let your joined hands drop between you both.

“I…”

How messy was it to explain the gaps between your fingers where he held onto you more tightly than you held onto him?

How soon was too soon to reveal all that you feared?

But he had become close to the entrance to your heart.

He chose to wait there.

Sincerely, just as he said.

“You don’t have to tell me everything at once. But I want you to know that when you are ready that you can tell me everything. I want to know.” He waited for some time before speaking, continuing his gentle rotations against the back of your palm.

Don’t be afraid to love someone, _______.

Life is to be lived in both joy and pain, no matter what happened before.

Don’t be afraid, my darling, my baby girl.

You fidgeted, pulling your hands from his embrace, to cradle his instead.

You brought his hands, the backs of his palms, his fingers, then turned his hands to their center to your lips as well.

He exhaled, slowly. Allowing you to turn him this way and that.

Closing your eyes, you repeated the gesture before bringing his hands to your heart, pressing down until you could feel your heartbeats, his through his hands, and yours atop his.

He leaned forward, brushing the bridge of his nose along the hill of your cheek.

“Please be careful with me,” you whispered, shivering as he kissed the center of your cheek, moving glacially towards your lips.

Then your hands, yours and his, pulled each other closer.

Breaking apart, he hummed against your lips.

“Please be careful with me, also.”

You answered in kind with another kiss.

__________________

7:00 am, the morning of your actual birthday

You awoke curled into his chest, feeling him shiver as you stirred again in his arms, turning into his neck.

Your clothes from the day before that you both still wore were rumpled where they had been pressed and freshly laundered for the surprise special showing he had gifted you the evening before.

His dress shoes were still at the door.

Your pumps had somehow ended up beside them.

He moaned as you shifted your weight, pulling yourself up to a seated position.

His arms followed you where you went, his hands drifting down to your waist, his fingers twitching slightly as you continued to move.

You turned to look at him, seeing that he was still asleep, his lips puffed and bruised as were yours.

You blushed as your eyes trailed to the right of his lips, focusing on his chin, his neck and where his dress shirt were unbuttoned exposing his clavicle.

There you had left your marks.

Seeing his made you bring your hand to your own that he had made; love bites on both sides of your neck, the top of your left shoulder and the stretch of skin just above the mound of your left breast.

Your phone chimed in your purse on the counter and you stood up quickly, hearing him gasp and groan in his sleep.

You made it in time to catch it on the third ring, answering it as you swiped your purse from the counter and hurried down the hall to your bedroom.

“______! Happy birthday love!” _____ (Marseille Reader) exclaimed as soon as you answered, blowing her kazoo into the mouth piece of her phone.

You laughed hoarsely, muffling the volume of the sound.

You thanked her as you started your shower, creating another barrier for your conversation.

“Am I catching you at a bad time? Are you on your way out already? Why is your voice so husky? Is he…? Wait!-”

“Could you be any more nosy?” You sighed to which she laughed.

“Well a very happy birthday to you girl. I’ll hang up now. Text me when you have a minute ok?”

You hung up after you both said goodbye, texting her quickly.

“We didn’t. If that’s what you’re thinking. He just stayed over after we came back from the theater. We slept together but not...not like that.”

Three dots.

“Are you ok? How do you feel about things? I know you’ve been anxious about it for awhile.”

You placed your phone on its designated dish for when you brought it to the bathroom, and went back to your bedroom to place your purse on its hook.

“I’m still nervous about everything. I don’t know why though. You’ve known me long enough to know what I am always like.”

The three dots flashed quicker this time.

“What makes it so different this time?”

You undressed, thinking about her question as you washed your hair, scratching your scalp in slow methodical circles.

When you were rinsed clean, you hurried to change into comfortable sweats, grabbing your hair brush from its holder in your bathroom but turning round in a circle stunned to see that your leave in conditioner was missing.

“Where-”

You went to grab your phone, swiping to open a happy birthday text from your Mom.

“Thank you! I’ll call you in a little bit ok?” You responded quickly before going back to _____‘s (Marseille Reader) text message from before.

“Obviously every situation is different. But...it’s just the way he completely reads me, _____ (Marseille Reader.)”

A question mark.

“Last night we talked after we got back and he wants our relationship to move forward. He officially asked me yesterday. And somehow he realized that though I said and meant yes, I was also still feeling wary about it. And he asked me why? And when I was wondering why he would be willing to trust me so completely, my mom’s voice came back to me telling me that trust is part of the process. No one can really guarantee that things won’t happen.”

“Mmhm”

“Trust is part of the process.”

You felt your hair dripping on your bare shoulder.

“You deserve to be loved the way he wants to love you, _____. Don’t you think you deserve to be wanted and loved like that? If you don’t think you’re ready for that then don’t lead him on. But if you want to love him then don’t be afraid to want and accept that.”

________________

“I’m sorry,” you cried out as you almost collided with him in the hallway.

“I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed also, catching you where you had almost fallen to jump away from him in time as he approached.

“I just wanted to come take a shower because it sounded like you were done. Is that ok? Can I use the towel that you left out? I should have brought some things with me but I didn’t think I would stay over,” his chuckle was nervous as if he was worried that you were going to rescind your invitation.

But you shook off your nerves, reaching out to take his hand in yours to lead him to your bathroom.

“Your hair is different from how it usually is ,” he said aloud, his eyes surveying every wet curl atop your head.

“Yea...I was coming out to get my conditioner that I left in the living room. I was hoping I wouldn’t wake you since you still seemed tired-”

“Oh no I’m fine. So what will you do to your hair now? Just let it dry?” He asked, reaching out a hand to touch one of your curls.

“I’ll be right back if you want to wait right here?” You asked, and left him to look around to find a chair to sit in, hurrying quickly to your guest bathroom to find your leave in conditioner bottle that you had left on the window sill the day before.

You returned to your bedroom to find him looking at the picture frames on your writing desk, those of you and your mother, _____ (Marseille Reader) and you on holiday, you outside of your university holding your diploma.

You moved around him, allowing him to see what he wanted, turning on your radio.

You went into the bathroom, hearing him stir at your writing desk as he watched you go past.

After hunting for your comb you went to sit at your bathroom bench, spritzing your hair with your leave-in conditioner spray you concocted before you began to comb through and part your hair.

You heard him before you saw him at the door of your bathroom, “you can come in. If you want to sit beside me?”

He came slowly, his footsteps soft on your marble floor.

You felt him come closer until he sat down beside you and you shifted over, giving him room.

He sat quietly, watching you as you braided your hair and put it into a bun.

“What’s in that spray bottle? It smells like coconut and something else delicious,” he asked, as you turned back to him, handing him the unopened toothbrush after putting your hair care items away and washing your hands.

“I’ll tell you as soon as you shower ok? What would you like for breakfast?”

__________________

After breakfast, your mother’s chai tea recipe, baguettes, strawberries, and 길거리 토스트, something he asked for but wasn’t positive of the recipe for, you cleaned up the living room and you both moved into your bedroom.

You called your mother back while he showered earlier and she planned to invite both him and his family if they were available for your traditional birthday dinner at her home.

When you asked him over breakfast, if he and they were available later this evening or tomorrow depending on their schedules, he immediately called his mother who called your mother to arrange the dinner for the following evening.

“Did you call off your schedule for the rest of today too?” You chuckled, when he announced that everything was arranged.

He sighed after a long sip of chai, rolling his neck side to side as if he were finally waking up, saying, “I didn’t have anything else scheduled for this weekend. I go back in on Tuesday to record again. I planned ahead. I have time.”

“Time for me?” You asked, enjoying the warmth in your hands from your cup of chai.

“Time for us,” he smiled in return.

_________________

“Come here,” you said, standing with his hands cradling yours.

He followed where you led down the hall past your kitchen, past the half guest bathroom, further down the hall to your bedroom, weaving his fingers between yours in a solid embrace.

You led him to your room, leaving him at the door to get your picture frame.

He waited by the door, not crossing the threshold, until you gave him permission.

_________________

“This love, this love

This love, this love

Let me feel the love, you get to know me

Figured that soul, I hold you only

Take him in and chilling, we keep it rolling

Let me get a hit of, you feeling on me

Let me feel the depth as you get to know me

Figured that soul, I hold you only

Take him in and chilling, we keep it rolling

Let me get a hit of, you feeling on me”

You laid side by side as Cassie sang, her voice tinging the light of the sun’s descent filtering into your bedroom from your curtains in bashful pinks, and deeper reds.

His hand held yours, slipping his fingers between yours, rubbing his thumbs against the inside of the heel of your palm.

You turned, your eyes finding his first where he watched you.

“이쪽으로 오세요,” he whispered, his other arm reaching up and over, creating within himself a circle for you to fill.

You went, snuggling into his chest with your ear over his heart. His arms held you close, one of his hands drifting higher to your now dried hair. At first he petted your hair, gently teasing stray curls from your bun, and eventually his fingers inched along your scalp, scratching you in all the right spots.

You moaned against him, writhing closer.

Until he suddenly stopped.

You opened your eyes just as he reached his hand that had been in your hair beneath your chin, tilting your face up to him, his kiss full and passionate.

You pulled him, by his broad shoulders, wrapping yourself around him, as he turned with you, bringing your thighs around him, his palms spreading along your skin.

“Mm,” he kissed the tender love bites he’d created earlier that morning at dawn, and nosed down further as you pulled at your sweatshirt.

You helped each other out of your clothes, down to your silk and his cotton, chasing each new reveal with another kiss, and another until finally you were free.

He shyly pulled away when you pulled him closer by his hips.

“I-”

“Are you ready or are we moving too fast?” He asked immediately.

You brought your hands to your chest, covering yourself.

“I don’t...if you don’t want to be together...I really don’t want to do this…” he said, his eyes looking and you hushed him with your lips realizing then that you were both nervous about whether you were in the same head space.

“I want to. Je veux.”

“Moi aussi.”

__________

“Mm…” he let out a long low moan as your kisses drifted from his neck.

To alternate between sucking and blowing hotly against his nipples, his chest, his stomach.

He bucked against your sudden kiss at his hips.

The way that you slowly opened your mouth, nibbling at the indent of his hip bone.

While he focused there, panting open mouthed, you reached, sliding an open hand down, past his belly button pushing past curls of hair, grasping him.

“____,” groaning your name at first, you felt him still against you as you opened your mouth.

“Ha...I,” he squirmed involuntarily but towards you.

____________

He was buzzing in your ear, humming as he breathed you in.

You turned into his embrace, your back flush against his chest.

He cradled you, making himself a throne upon which you reigned.

His hands were at your breasts where his mouth had been before he turned you over.

You pulled one of his hands from your breast, as his lips pressed into your neck, murmuring drunkenly against you your name over and over and over.

“Vous pouvez aussi me toucher ici,” you murmured rotating your hips as you brought his hand down further past your belly button, past the silk, past your curls, to you.

“Vous êtes si doux et doux même ici,” he bit at your neck, sucking the skin there as he placed his hand above yours, following your movement.

___________

He turned you to him, taking a handful of your hair in his hands, helping you closer with his other hand spread wide against your behind, as he rocked you higher and higher.

“B-Baekhyun!” in tears you said his name again and again.

__________

“Seeing you again at my party after that first winter we happened to meet left me empty. I tried to wait until we could see each other by chance. But I found myself asking and wondering more. I found every chance to ask about you. But how could I find a way to casually see you being that our careers are what they are?”

“When I saw you again _____. I can’t tell you what it meant to know you were coming.”

You pressed a sleepy, tearful kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“I’m surprised you didn’t give up…” you whispered huskily.

“How can I? My heart belongs to you. There’s nowhere I can go without thinking of you. Not even to sleep, ____. You’re with me always.” He kept a hand at the small of your back, circling from there to the rise of your bottom, while his other hand held your thigh ascending to your knee. He held you to him, with your thigh wrapped over his hip.

“Always?” You asked, your hand that rested on his rising and falling chest, moving up to turn his face down to you.

“Always,” he nodded, nuzzling you and turning until he rested his head on your breast.

You scratched at his scalp and neck, stirring and writhing against him as his drowsy kisses again became urgent.

“B-Baek-Hyun-Ah please…”

How did he know that you liked it like this?

How did he know that you needed him to touch you there?

“Ah foda-se...ha!”

Like that.

Again.

“...please”

More.

“Come here baby,” he murmured against your brows, one hand in your hair, as his other held your thigh, pulling you together until you were blissfully one, again.

____________

MARSEILLE II PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT II. “You can’t compete where you don’t compare” Length - 7, 452 Mood - slighted, spoiled Pairing - Suho x Reader, some Baekhyun x Lyon Reader Warning - Mature for sexual references 

“어떤 단어들도 우릴 표현 못 하지 내가 아는 우주도 우리를 축복해 (Oh) 우리 안의 Circle를 만들어 매일매일 그렇게 돌다가 물들어 (너와 내가 너와 내가) (너와 내가 너와 내가)” “Eyes Locked, Hands Locked” by Red Velvet

You watched her in silence as she watched him. You had never seen such an untrammeled glare in _____ (Lyon Reader)’s eyes, and found yourself uneasy about her slow careless unraveling even in front of you. Following your arrival from Berlin, after the successful unveiling of the Pathcodes’ The First Supper New Year Gala, a demonstration of the culmination of an entire season of painstakingly detailed planning, you had originally arranged to return together with her and Baekhyun to your place from the airport before they doubled back to pick up Yun Hee from her gra-mère where she had spent a short period of her winter holiday. But the very notion of having to continue to watch the way that she fused her lips closed to withhold the feral screams her eyes could not contain, was unbearable. You knew that she was irritated with Baekhyun for what she would and had described as his lack of assertiveness, for his almost pathetically people pleasing nature that failed to come to complete fruition. You knew since you were young how volatile her anger could surmount to, and in contrast, you knew, that as their relationship evolved, how much she had forgiven and had therefore bloomed as a person capable of loving even herself after failing to meet her own expectations. She had let go of so much hatred, even for those you would say that she would have every reason to despise and dissociate with forever, and you knew that it was Baekhyun that taught her how to look within the pain to find opportunities to love. It was he, grant it also among others, that had given her reasons to hope for a second chance in life. But woe to him, you thought as you suddenly spoke up. Woe to you, Baekhyun who had inspired that very same wrath however loving and well meaning he had intended to be, you thought solemnly as you announced, “actually I’ll take a cab.” You watched Baekhyun hesitate. His back was to you as he meant to lead the way; he fumbled with their suitcases as he approached the white paint of the sidewalk crossing path leading the long trail from the airport to the car port. You looked away before he looked back and up at you, but you heard his uncertain gulp before she spoke. 

“Oh? It’s no trouble to bring you home and come back quickly for YunHee. Maman knows our plan. It’s no trouble, I promise,” she even smiled at you as she always did, her eyes no longer clouded with unforgiving, agitated even darkened clouds. You shook your head, turning back to hail one of the taxis that waited for a willing traveler. The man started up at your signal, barreling down from behind the slowly loading tourist bus, and reuniting families and the security detail directing the haphazard afternoon traffic. You shrugged, pretending to yawn, you hoped convincingly enough. “It’s a long drive and it would be unfair to make you drive that far. I’ll see you. Kiss my niece hello and goodnight for me?” You said to her as you moved towards the taxi where the man had already popped open his trunk in anticipation for your suitcase. He wiped his hands clean against his jeans before reaching for it. You took your time, turning yourself completely away, stowing your coat on the seat, before looking back up at them. Baekhyun couldn’t hide his look of growing apprehension as he watched you go. Usually he would bound towards you and hug you goodbye with that carefree puppy eyed grin, but he now braved a timid smile and waved from his safe post behind the suitcases, “see you soon ____. Be safe getting home please.” “I’ll see you later then,” you nodded at him accepting his wary stance and then you looked at her. She smiled, again for you though it still didn’t cool the heat in her eyes, leaning forward to kiss you goodbye. You caught her quickly, pressing an incisive “take it easy,” into her cheek which you felt her stiffen against. Take it easy on him. —————————- Home in your apartment at last, you waited for Junmyeon. You had washed all of your travel clothes, cleaned and put up your suitcase, changed your sheets, scrubbed your floors, checked the mail, and cleared out the trash, shampooed your hair, and fixed dinner. “He should be here any minute,” you chewed at your bottom lip, looking up again at the time on the clock that read well past the 7:30PM dinner date you had set, above your oven where two servings of deliciously prepared coq a vin waited to be enjoyed. You had hoped to still be cleaning while Junmyeon arrived from Elixier, where you had just called him to check in after settling back in with the groceries. “Everything is running smoothly here so I may get there earlier after I meet with Dad-” “I could always just go to your place tonight. That’s easier isn’t it? It’s not as far as you would have to drive to get here. Plus! You needed groceries-” “I’ve already requested groceries for next weekend when we’ll stay at my place, ____. But I appreciate that,” you heard a sincere smile in his voice, and a slight chuckle at the idea of you going overboard to spoil him, as if that were unusual between you two. “Ok, but definitely 7:30 right? We can push it back if-” “I’ll be there sweetheart. At 7:30,” he stated in a deliberately thoughtful tone which you knew to mean that he couldn’t wait to see you. But it’s 8:30 now… Don’t cancel don’t cancel don’t cancel not again don’t- His name flashed across your screen underneath a time that read 8:45PM as your phone buzzed, and beeped within the clasp of your palms. “Jun?” “_______, sweetheart. How is dinner coming?” He intoned honeyly. “You’re not coming are you?” You frowned impulsively. “Sweetheart I-“ “Can I at least bring you the dinner I made? I got everything ready for us. You promised me when we got back we could-” “I’m sorry. I am. I…things are difficult with Dad. I…I want to see you. I do. I’m sorry. I can’t get away right now. The board is here and we’re discussing damage control after my brother’s blunder. They need me for this evening-” Your emphatic I need you too died on your lips. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth to release the clenching of your teeth. “How is everything going? Will you be able to rectify the damage he caused? Surely we could make up for what was lost with investments from-” “I don’t know if I should risk that. Minseok advised against it…I can’t compromise us all…” he began to drift away though you could clearly still hear him pacing in the hall outside of where the meeting must have been taking place in Junmyeon’s father’s private hospital room. He had been transferred to a private facility given the green light from his initial medical treatment team following your visit prior to your departure to Berlin for the New Year’s Gala. Junmyeon left the night before you all were scheduled to return back to your home bases to check in with his father and Elixier, and promised you that once he saw to his affairs, that you two would have more time just to be together. Successive no phone, no internet weekends for two beginning at your place. You had dreamed of the hours you would spend together this weekend and pushed all fantasies outside of primarily face to face cuddling off of the possible agenda. Once the taxi dropped you off, you had purposefully headed back into town. You had fully stocked your refrigerator, cleaned every inch of your place, and stopped into a boutique for a walk-in bikini sugaring because luckily you could call in a favor after regular hours. All of that for a “can’t tonight, sorry?” You remembered again the palpable rage within her (Lyon Reader) eyes and wondered again how long you would struggle to maintain your calm with this chafing rejection. The reason for these purposefully planned upcoming weekends was because the year before had been dedicated to your new mutual endeavors, The Pathcodes. An entire year and some you both had spent working through every detail of every venture that culminated in the last and first evening of the business calendar year. “Will you be back this weekend at all?” Your voice was barely above a discernible whisper but he “mhm’d” in reply almost out of instinct. “I’ll be back on Sunday at the latest, sweetheart,” that word was starting to make your palms itch and tremble. So many “I wish I could-” “I want you” “please come home” “why are you doing this?!” swallowed screams pressed and bruised against your rib cage forcing a weighted exhale past your lips into the receiver. “I know it’s not ideal ____ but please be patient with me,” he had the audacity to sound…was he really annoyed at you? Really?! “….but I have been…and I am being patient,” you felt your brow furrow as you scratched your bare toe folded underneath you with a free hand, taking your time to enunciate every word and pause. “I can’t-” “No. Stop. It’s not I can’t. It’s I will not. I choose not to. It’s a choice Jun. Everything we do is a choice. I chose to come home and prepare for my boyfriend and I to have a weekend together. Because we had an agreement and I chose to honor that. You chose to take care of family business. You are telling me that now you will not honor our agreement instead of coming to a compromise with me for tonight since we planned to take the weekends off together. I understand the circumstance but I am obviously pretty fucking frustrated with you. You have to allow me that-” “Allow it? I told you that I can be there on Sunday at the latest, if you were listening. I am saying that tonight is not something that I am able to compromise. Listen I don’t want to fight _____,” “You’re not even home for us to properly fight and makeup, first of all. That’s the real problem. I know that this is a difficult time. I saw what was happening before we left or don’t you remember that I was with you at the hospital? I know your family doesn’t necessarily want me around. I know that that is awkward for you and for us. But what concerns me now is if you even want me around? Do you even want to be with me anymore Jun? We have gone months without truly spending time together unless for Elixier, or the Pathcodes. Am I not worth your time? Why do I feel like I’m fighting to stay in something that you have already left?” You would not apologize for the way you rushed through your statements. You would not apologize for the way his breath hitched in his chest, signaling his growing irritation with your brazen accusations. I want you to come home and yell at me and scream at me. I want to fight. I want to fight for us. I want us to cry and pick each other up and love each other down all night, all day, all weekend. You remembered the slight fear in Baekhyun’s eyes as he watched you go but you noticed too the resolve in his shoulders as if he had decided, “well let’s get on with it.” Here now on the phone with you Junmyeon cursed. “Damn it ______! I know and I am sorry. I am. I can’t fix this situation going on here and be with you at home tonight. I am choosing to fix this first so I can come home and be at home with you. I promised you my undivided attention. I have not forgotten that promise. But I have to be here now. I have a duty to fulfill. That is irrefutable. On Sunday I will be there. I promise you. Please. I don’t want to fight. Just please tell me that you will wait for me until then, ok? Let’s talk more on Sunday, ok?” He waited for you to acknowledge him and you waited out his patience. “______,” he groaned in a tone that made you think that he knew that you were stalling him if just to hear his voice. Didn’t he feel guilty? “I love you,” you whispered and he sighed, his voice softening as he responded in mutual passionate exasperation, “I love you too.” __________ You still ate your helping of coq a vin, and dipped into a pint of chocolate and cherry glacé unabashedly, hiccuping and nodding off on your sofa. You jolted from an awkward nap dream wherein Junmyeon’s mother asked you to choose between Jun and his brother, and nearly clotheslined the emptied glacé carton, ceramic dinner plate and utensils, wine bottle and glass of white wine you had begrudgingly indulged from your coffee table. Rubbing sleep from your swollen eyes and now dry cheeks, you slowly cleared your dishes and trash, washing them and placing them in their cupboards and the bin neatly. Your slippered footsteps echoed almost mockingly in your flat as though you were realizing how truly empty it was now that you had slowed from running around and around during the weeks that had been being employed as a full time investigative journalist some years ago now. How much had you given away thinking you had gained something priceless? Were you making room for love or was it emptying you? 11:25pm huh? I can’t even drink myself into the next morning anymore? You trudged towards your bedroom, shedding your clothes as you brushed past the door and moved along toward your bathroom. Without looking at the mirror you pulled your brush through the flattened curls you’d shaped of your hair, and wiped the rouge from your lips and cheeks. You ached for him more so than being angry, and that fact alone frustrated you. Why am I so willfully compliant? Why do I wait for him? I know what it is to be abandoned. Forgotten. Unwanted. Why am I waiting? Why? How can I possibly want him right now? How? How could I possibly WANT him right now? Sitting at the edge of your clawfoot tub, you turned both of the faucets until a tolerable mixture of heat and cool water filled the bath. You gently descended, feeling a rush of relief envelope you once you were submerged. And then you started crying again. You hadn’t known your parents. You remembered fragments of your mother’s voice and your father’s face. You thought you had once had siblings. Sometimes the smell of fire and seared flesh was coupled with the sound of her voice. But you were also sure that children made up stories to comfort themselves, and people in general did so because it was easier to live believing a lie. You remembered your mère, the only woman whom you had called mère, visiting you at some place you could never remember being a distinctive orphanage or otherwise. It seemed like you just came to be with her and she just took care of you. Well minded you more so in that she provided a home, an education, nutritious diet, and a wholesome environment for you. But you never had holidays together or with relatives. You didn’t know anyone with your last name or could ever trace a lineage. “What trifling, foolish thoughts. This is some American design on education? I will have a word with the directeur about this sham of a project,” she spat at your family tree project in primary school. You had come home so excited to interview her with the questionnaire your teacher had drawn up. You couldn’t wait to meet her at the school gate, and bounced excitedly all along the street as you walked home risking her chiding for your wild behavior. You showed her the papers as soon as you had finished with your dinner, prattling on about how you hoped she could show you now that you had washed your dishes. You had been so hoping for family photos to be revealed and long lost stories of your mysterious ancestors. No sooner had she spoken with said director though were you removed to a private academy wherein you met your dearest and fondest lifetime friend. Somehow the topic of the project found its way into your first conversation at lunch during your first week, and you shyly revealed to your classmates that you were adopted. Most of the children around you shrugged, though some did eye you in a pitying oh-my-what-a-sad-sorry-thing-that-you-don’t-know-your-family way. She (Lyon Reader) watched you after you said it and slid her chair closer to yours sharing her extra juice box since you drank yours for snack earlier. “I hope you feel welcome here. It’s hard when you feel alone,” she smiled, her chubbiest pearliest smile just for you, and you knew then that family can also be those you meet in life. Family. A concept so elusive but essential to your being was understood differently by you and Junmyeon. You cherished your dearest ___ (Lyon Reader.) Your love for her as pure as a sister and as deep as if the blood within your veins had always been one in the same. And Junmyeon reflected that in his relationships with his dearest friends as you had witnessed. His family, his blood family, however was something unknown and apart from him altogether but unlike you in every way. He felt that he owed them his life no matter the insult or sneers he endured. Your mère, your only legal representation of family, did not deserve your life, in your opinion however. You granted her respect, because you knew that without her you may have never survived wherever it was that she had found you. You had never achieved finding any record of your birth or that place you could hardly remember. On a dare and in search of the truth with ___ (Lyon Reader) one summer vacation, you went to the library to research the whereabouts of your origin. “It’s for your ultimate happiness!” She had declared, with a bravado that insinuated that she would brave the very bowels of the world, and pull apart every floorboard of secrecy to unearth the home you never knew you lost. But even that research meant nothing to you, looking back at it now. Not when you considered what you gained. Junmyeon however could not resist his desire to know more of what his father had suddenly revealed. To hell with what would come of such knowledge. He wanted to know why his uncle would willingly give up a son. What harm could an illegitimate child do? Why did his father have to marry the mother of his nephew who was also his mother? What could such a marriage achieve? He wanted to know more about his family history, and more about their business. He wanted to map it out in front of him to see what had been hidden in such a deceptively innocent manner so uncharacteristic to him of his family. While he had been brought up under the guise that he would always come second to his brother’s future, the very fact of this methodically perpetuated deception had robbed him of his relationship not only with his mother, and his brother but his father. You could see him wondering as he made love to you, driving himself deeper and ever deeper into you until you cried out in anguished ecstasy, the evening you first returned from the hospital somehow surviving a car ride after that bombshell of news, “who am I? What am I doing here?” At the thought of him touching you, and kissing you again, you blushed, your hands happening to slip over your breasts with your soaped up cloth once again. You purposefully ran the cloth over and under, cupping and smoothing your skin smothered in lathered bubbly soap, until the budding of inspired sensation began to spread across every nerve within your body. “Mmmph,” you thought of the way he looked at you with his reddened cheeks, and the sweat between the brows above his darkly impassioned eyes as his mouth closed around your bare nipples. “Haa…” you exhaled writhing as the water slipped between your thighs, gliding over your softening, warming, tenderest places. You remembered his touch there, always gentle at first before gradually building in its intensity. You heard his gasps at your moans as you slipped your fingers along the current of the water, finding the most precious point. “Junmyeon…” you moaned into the quiet bath, hearing the lapping of water echoing its slippery reply. Quickening your pace, you felt the water rising with each breath, pushing you and pulling against you as he did when he, when you, until finally you cried out wishing he was again kissing your lips, your closed eyes, your neck whispering drowsily as he pressed his lips against you that, “I love you. I love you ____.” _______________ You woke again to the incessant buzzing of your cell phone on your coffee table. You turned over after the second call and a glance at your bedside clock that read 2:15am. Ughhhhhh!!!!!! Gathering your blankets around you as a gown since you hadn’t worn anything from the bath to your bedroom, you journeyed back to the living area where your phone buzzed again. “Is that-” You hurried to answer. “Baekhyun?” A horrible pause. “Baekhyun-” “_____, I’m sorry about the hour that I’m calling. Is she there with you?” You realized he had covered the receiver with his hand as you heard him talking to someone while he waited for your answer. “No. No she’s not here. Is something…she didn’t call me,” you hesitated to ask when you knew that something was obviously wrong if he couldn’t find her. I should have stayed with them. I shouldn’t have told her to take it easy. I should have- “She’s not at her flat. She’s not at maman’s. She’s not at the office. I am about to call the police. She won’t answer my calls. She won’t answer maman either. I just…” You could tell he was waiting until he had walked far enough away from the confused voice he had been talking to. “We had a fight again, and she stormed out. She didn’t even take the car. She just went. I made a mistake. I…I can’t find her _____. I-” you could hear the tears returning that had abated, his breathing ragged. You heard him trying to open the car door and fumbling with the handle, hearing the resounding kiss of the metal of the dropped keys against the pavement. “I’m sure she’s ok. Let me call her ok? Don’t go anywhere,” you said quickly transferring to your home phone. She picked up on the third ring. “I’m almost outside your door. Can you open it please?” She asked, her voice sounding eerily calm. “He’s calling to ask where you are. I’m going to tell him that I found you,” you informed her though you knew that she knew you were not asking her permission. “Baekhyun she’s here. She just came to my place-” “How did she get there?! Is she ok? Is she-? I-” “Let me look first ok?” You interrupted jolting from your sofa to scurry to the front door. You heard footsteps outside after a car door slammed and looked down to see a taxi slowly pulling away from your street. Her clothes looked wet no doubt from the misty midnight air, and her rumpled hair was pulled into a sloppy makeshift bun. Her expression was again composed, and resolute though her eyes wandered everywhere as she made her way to your staircase. “She looks ok. Maybe a little tired. Is YunHee-” “She’s home with me. Rather the nanny and maman. I’ll get back then…I…could you tell her that I’m sorry. I am so sorry. And I-” “I will. I promise you,” you whispered to him as you opened the door. __________ After a bath and the last helping of coq a vin you had saved for Junmyeon she was ready to talk. You told her when she had come inside what Baekhyun’s message was and tried to ignore the way she glared at the floor as if she wanted to set it ablaze. You waited for her to begin as she picked nonchalantly at her nails and slowly grew irritated at her callous exhales. “What in the world could be so awful that you would hitchhike it to my house in the middle of the damn night ____(Lyon Reader)?” you began abruptly. She shook her head as she ran a hand over her face, her features pinched. “I can leave-” “And just where would you go? What? Do you expect me to wait up for you to come back? I’m not Baekhyun damn you,” you frowned at her and then she glared at you. “Yea I said it. So come on then. What happened?!” You demanded, tossing your phone to the middle of your bed between you and her. She looked down at the blank screen, and for a moment said nothing before dissolving into soundless sobs. You waited another beat, before sighing yourself as you climbed closer to her to comfort her. You started just by rubbing her shoulders, and listened until she settled down before you tried again in a lower tone. “What happened?” “I thought after the New Years gala we would talk. Before the gala there were always excuses but afterwards since I knew ____ (Berlin Reader) hadn’t scheduled anything for us to attend to and so I planned to talk with him-” “Mhm I could see that at the airport after we got back-” “No…after we got back…___ I am really tired of the level of invasive this thing is becoming,” She suddenly fumed, the dimming fire returning to her speech, her lip curling at the invisible culprit who had reappeared. You pulled away to look at her. “Invasive…?” Oh. “Who said-” “Minseok. Minseok had the nerve to say that I was being unfair and I should know better than to think Baekhyun was not doing all he could for us. He wanted me to mind my attitude…where does Baekhyun get off airing our business to someone like him.” Many a time had the two of you argued over something diminutive in comparison but you knew from circumstance that she was not one to stay angry for long. But with Baekhyun it was different. Involving someone who was not considered family to her, was different. The clarity of that jilted you somewhat. “Did you tell Baekhyun, first of all?” you asked and she tsked at you, her eyes scarily reducing to venomous slits as if to say “obviously.” “He had the nerve to defend him-” “He defended him?!” “He said he didn’t mean it that way…” You rolled your eyes in mutual agitation. “We were doing fine, just fine before all of this. And now…I’m just so frustrated with Baekhyun and this lack of assertiveness. I just…” “What’s the matter though? Really? Haven’t you talked about this with him?” “I thought we had…I don’t know ____ he just got so comfortable,” she frowned at the word as if it was sitting in front of her shrugging away her judgement. “But when you’re happy in a relationship-” “Of course there’s comfortable as in a certain level of intimacy and understanding of each other but ___ he just…he changed…even after YunHee was born and I just…” She seemed to be battling herself to not say what she was afraid to think. “Can’t you make room for the way he is changing? Does he not still take care of you both? Knowing Baekhyun I know he isn’t going to step out on you. He has never had eyes for anyone since he met you. He would never compromise your relationship and willingly hurt you. He is faithful to you, ___ (Lyon Reader.)” “But why do I feel like I am settling for less than who he is? Why does it feel like he’s different but not because he’s becoming a better man but simply because he…I don’t know. It’s just…he bought the house we talked about but the way Minseok paraded around in it…I just…” She grimaced as she wiped away at stray tears. There are holes in our hearts that our families have made. Places we desperately want filled with the love that was promised. And it’s those places we oftentimes force our relationships to go without realizing that that person is doing their best, and loving us with their all. Well…mostly…sometimes. Sometimes we don’t want to recognize the mirror that our lover is. What shortcomings we see in others that we cannot care are often our own grievous downfalls. Where we fail to accept our lovers, we often fail to embrace ourselves. “I just…I miss us ____. When he makes love to me now I…the last time we were together I came like always and he seemed satisfied with that. But when he drifted to sleep I kept touching myself, I wanted more and I have never done that before ____. Never. I look at him at the breakfast table smiling at me over something I made for him and I am mad. I watch him playing with YunHee and I am frustrated at the time he takes showing her how to play the piano. The way he holds her hands and presses her fingers down on the keys. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-” her voice stuttered to a stop as she started to cry again, a pitiful rasping moan. The mention of lovemaking made you groan inwardly, but you heard an echo of what she had once said as a girl. That she wished her father had loved her and she was honestly jealous of girls who knew their father’s love. The research you conducted led her not only to your non existent family but to her own father; information she obsessed over for months before finally calling him to demand a meeting. To you she was not unhappy because Baekhyun loved their daughter, it was because she once again felt like something lacked in her even though everything had gone the way she had hoped…for the most part. She had not found the peace she wanted. Whereas you… “_____ you love this man. You absolutely do. There is no denying that. But instead of telling him what you thought-” “Why can’t he just-” “I don’t know why. But he tries does he not? Even now he called for you. He was at your apartment, he had just stopped by your office, he was even brave enough to go to maman to look for you and you know that must have been terrifying, and I have no doubt that he was about to get in the car to come here after calling the police if I did not answer my phone. He is not a superhuman. He has his flaws. But he loves you without question. Everything you had ever hoped and dreamed for in a father when we were little, our precious YunHee has in Baekhyun. Is that not a blessing-” She nodded but shook her head, again wiping away tears. “How is it any different if we are not married?” “Then stop delaying the ceremony and get on with it!” You cried and she laughed at your sudden shout making you smile at least. “I want some time away from him even so. I want to think about this. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel the same,” she went on and you laughed weakly, unable to hold back your emotions as you had hoped to spare her the time she needed to come down from crisis. “____? Darling what’s wrong?” Her tears forgotten she embraced you instead, cradling you where you turned into her embrace. “I’m sorry I…” “Is it Junmyeon? Has he still not come by?” She sounded truly worried and you knew that she was. She pressed your hair away from your face, gently combing your hair back with her fingers before she began to scratch your scalp. You cuddled into her, sighing, “I don’t know when he’ll have the time.” “What the hell does that even mean? Surely he has time to see you,” she intoned irritable on your behalf. You sat up to look at her, “I’m not sure that he loves me or that he would stick beside me if his family demanded different. I think given the ultimatum that he would leave me.” She shook her head at you, her eyes tearful as she heard your confession. “What really holds us together?” You mused aloud ruefully to which your dear friend (Lyon Reader) countered, “even before YunHee was born Baekhyun and I were committed. It’s not just a child that binds two people together. I mean look at my mom and Dad you know…?” She meant to comfort and rule out your fears but you said the truth on your heart anyway. “I worry that I have just now only realized that whether there was a child or not…Junmyeon and I…I’m not sure we are built of the stuff to last.” ______________ Saturday was spent in, serenely. __ (Lyon Reader) cooked each meal for you both and called home to speak with YunHee who was quite confused and upset that Mommy was not home to hear her piano practice as translated by her nanny. “Baekhyun will be taking her to his grandmother’s this week, and will stay until next weekend. He plans to be away on business the following week as well,” you overheard the nanny inform ___ (Lyon Reader) who was slowly pouring the tea she had brewed for you both. “Oh? Is Baekhyun there-” “He is not at home at the moment, but he will be returning shortly from a visit with his father,” the woman explained to which ___ (Lyon Reader) only nodded. “Thank you for passing along the information. I’ll be home tomorrow morning-” “Wonderful. Mr. Byun was hoping you would be home by then so that he could travel with the whole family together-” “Absolutely. I will be there…” she answered before hanging up the phone. “Make the most of what you have while you have it,” you reminded her as soon as she returned with the tray. ___________ She went early Sunday morning, leaving with sunshine and birdsong in her wake in a mood of both restlessness, and slight regret. “I do love him. I don’t want you to have the wrong idea…” Yea I know. “But you sound like you have cold feet still. Take your time to think it through but remember what’s at stake while your relationship with Baekhyun is uncertain…don’t neglect YunHee…everything you do affects her,” you murmured into her neck as you hugged her goodbye. “Mm,” she took a step back from your hug, holding your hands in hers as she looked at you. You both stood, quietly observing one another. She leaned in for other hug, wrapping her arms around your waist to hold you closer now. “Let’s both not give up, ok?” But I don’t really feel like that’s up to me. _____________ Back inside your apartment you hesitated to close the door on the morning light. The breeze outside smelled so good. The bright sky blue promise of a new day tempted you. Your yearning for truth pulled at the hem of your robe. The sweet smelling breeze lifted your hair, and caressed your cheeks. Run. But you closed the door after a gaping breath. I did promise her that I would try. _____________ “Delivery,” called a male voice after three short knocks on your front door. You had curled into your covers with a couple books Junmyeon left on the bedside table on his side during his last weekend stay with you. The Poetry of Zen, Mouthful Of Birds, The Price of Everything, Don Quixote, and Thinking Fast and Slow were all titles he loved to read over and over while he waited for you to finish with dinner. You smiled as you touched and turned each page, catching whiffs of his cologne impressed into the spine where he’d crushed the open book against him during a nap. “Coming!” You called back, rising from your bed and pulling your silken robe closed. You peeked through the curtains out the window just beside the door to see a couple of delivery men in simple black dinner suits standing in a line, holding velvet boxes embossed with bouquets of flowers. Your heart lifted at the sight. He is coming! You pulled open the door immediately. “Good afternoon, we have flowers for a Miss ____” “Yes. Yes that’s me,” you breathed in the fragrant scent of cherry blossom bouquets as they entered with boxes sized to hold small table and larger floor arrangements. You watched as they worked, expertly placing the bouquets in vases of clear crystal where they saw spaces fit for the glowing bouquets. The soft rosy pink and white of the buds cast a glowing blush within your seemingly barren apartment. Had the very light of my place been drained from here before now? How had I not noticed? As you stood mesmerized by the resurgence of life around you, you startled at the delivery man who approached you with a small white box lavishly wrapped in billowing red satin ribbon that loosely spiraled from the bow at its top to the floor at his feet. “If you would, Miss,” he gestured you closer, inclining his chin to the box held neatly atop the palms of his gloved white hands. You started forward reaching to touch the lush ribbon and gently pull the delicate bow loose from its arrangement. It spooled out from its hold cleanly and you lifted the lid of the box to see a blinking analog message. “I’m sorry ____. I hope you can forgive me.” Tearfully you looked up at the doorway where he appeared, a halo of the afternoon’s dimming rays framing him as he stood there. “Hi sweetheart,” he grinned, optimistically. _____________ “I want us to really talk about this Junmyeon,” you murmured against his bare chest, feeling happily woozy at the fragrance in the air, and the loved feeling in your limbs. “Then let’s talk now that we’re both awake…” he murmured against your nose, shifting carefully so he could pull you closer. You nipped at his chin as he wrapped his arm more securely around your back, your hand on his chest. Tonight was the first time you had loved openly in your living room. As soon as the delivery men exited your apartment, and he had discreetly closed the door, he referenced that saying before you could open your mouth, “I know it’s been stormy between us and around us lately…but they do say that April showers bring May flowers. And so I’ve brought you all the flowers I have in my heart for you for every time I thought of you, of us, and our love.” You broke into a sprint towards him, colliding with him though he had very obviously braced himself to catch you. “Why do you do this to me? I wait for you for days on end. You just abandoned me. You just desert me now when everything is uncertain? I want to be there with you! Why don’t you consider me as part of your family the way I think of you? Why did you come back here if you acted like you didn’t need me before? What do you take me for-” You whimpered into his sudden kiss, struggling to pull away from him. “I’m not abandoning you-” “Then what?! You meant to tell me I am making this all up?!” “You’re not-” “Then say it, damn it! Make up your mind! You can’t possibly expect me to let this pass just because you brought the garden of Eden to my apartment!” “____” he reached for your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands, willing you to still your trembling limbs as he pressed his forehead against yours. You treasured the scent of aftershave at his neck, and mint on his breath. You had happily noted his duffel bag at his feet, and that he wore your favorite sweatshirt. “I don’t know what to think. My entire world isn’t what I thought and right in the middle of that is us. I don’t know what to say. I love you. I know that. But some part of me is still confused about myself-” “But why not just say that? Why do you shut me out?” “Because you can’t help me. It has nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with us-” “But it does. This…you being confused about who you are means that you are confused about our relationship. Where can I possibly hope to fit into that? How can I possibly comfort you when you don’t even know what you need? Junmyeon…” He dropped his hands to your shoulders, gliding his open palms against you, like water, the tide pulling you ever closer, this time, to his chest where he embraced you deeply. “I can’t ask you to wait for me but I am asking you to wait for me and to be patient with me-” “No,” you pushed against his chest. He mouthed your “no,” back at you as if it was an impossible answer. “No I will not wait anymore Junmyeon…I can’t,” you broke into a sob that sent tremors down your spine. His hopeful gaze splintered at your statement. “I want you. I’m sure of that. I want us. But I don’t want this waiting. I want to really get to know who you are. I want you to get to know me too. I want to grow together. I’m not saying that I need to be there for all of the board meetings or the trade deals though I do want to hear about that too. I know there are things that you have to do. I know there are places that I cannot go. But I’m saying that I want a home together. I want you here every night. I want you to come home to me. Whatever happens to you, happens to me. I accept that fate. I want to get to know this person you are discovering that you truly are. You are mine…and I…I am yours, Junmyeon…” can’t you see that? Can’t you see what a mess this has made of me? How could you sweep into my life like that and then just flutter away? He waited for you to finish, his hands fisted by his sides, his brown eyes dark with tears. He waited another moment longer while you wrapped your arms around yourself, despairing. He took a shaky step towards you and another before kneeling at your feet. “I…I don’t know everything about who I am. Or my family. And I’m scared of what I’ll find…but if you would have me ____. If you would stand by me that would mean everything to me…but I know I don’t deserve it. Not with the way I’ve made you feel…” he spoke in his lowest tones, his voice barely above a whisper in your apartment that never felt infiltrated by the noise of the world around you. Even now there was no sound, there was no one but Junmyeon in your garden. He reached for your waist, pulling himself closer to you, his head resting against your stomach. You bowed into his embrace, your crown meeting his. “I can forgive you. I have enough strength for that. But you cannot do this to me anymore. I am promising to be here from here on out but only if you honor your promise.” Junmyeon gave a weighted exhale at your steady answer, lifting himself as effortlessly as the morning sun above you, his lips meeting yours. ____________

ARIZONA | PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT II. - “circles of influence”

Length - 8, 875

Mood - palliated, lonesome

Pairing - Chanyeol x Reader

“Can we just talk? Can we just talk? Talk about where we're goin' Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts Can't get what we want without knowin' I've never felt like this before I apologize if I'm movin' too far Can we just talk? Can we just talk? Figure out where we're goin' Yeah, started off right I can see it in your eyes I can tell that you're wantin' more What's been on your mind? There's no reason we should hide Tell me somethin' I ain't heard before Oh, I've been dreamin' 'bout it And it's you I'm on So stop thinkin' 'bout it”

“Talk” by Khalid

________________

*Creak*

*THUNK*

*Knock Knock*

You looked up from your desk where you were jotting down notes from your previous appointment in your day planner to see the office mail clerk waiting just outside your door.

“Hi, are you _____?” He asked, breaking eye contact with you as he ruffled in his bag for the touchpad, gesturing to you with the stylus to sign, when you nodded yes.

He took a step inside your opened office door, reaching down to pick up the box and help it over the threshold before standing again to hand you the touchpad upon which you quickly signed your name. He bent again, after stowing the touchpad away in his satchel, to lift the wide set brown paper box up from the floor.

“Th-thank you,” you said, grunting slightly as you adjusted to the box’s weight as it transferred from his arms to yours.

He nodded, muttering a nonchalant “no problem” as he left, ambling down the hall the same way he had come to your office.

Please let this be it…

You glanced at the shipping label, and slowly smiled at the name you recognized.

“It’s here,” you exhaled, placing it on your desk gently.

Without bringing your eyes away from the name on the shipping label you reached for your drawer, quickly pulling it open to retrieve your scissors.

You carefully applied the blade to the packaging tape, taking care not to push down into the box for fear of scratching the contents within.

And as you peeled the packaging away, the brown paper box coming away cleanly as you easily sliced through it with your scissors, your heart swelled within your chest, tears blurring your vision.

“You’re here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking eye contact with the box for a brief moment to return to your open office door and close it.

Inside was the leather bound hard case now embroidered with three sets of initials, your late father’s being first, yours being second, and your son’s being the last.

You fingered the embroidered letters, tracing them with the pads of your forefingers in an infinite loop, closing your eyes as you recalled their faces, and their voices.

Taking a steadying breath you reached for the latch, and lifted the top of the case, and gasped at the sight of the slate gray and white typewriter you had been longing to see.

“Pop,” you whispered, amazed that the typewriter could have been restored to this extent. It looked just like the photograph you remembered from the catalogue.

“It’s impossible. It’s like it’s brand new again. Just like Pop kept it,” you felt a giggle rising as you touched each key, remembering the way he used to sit at his desk on weeknights and you’d sit beside him watching his fingers fly, the swirl of the floral scent of Yaupon holly tea and crisp, warm paper luring you closer and closer to the desk.

“Pop, it’s happening now. We’re doing it Pop,” you took another breath and exhaled sharply, feeling the strength go out of your legs as you descended abruptly into your office chair.

The waves of grief washed over you again, and since you had practiced and were prepared for their onslaught, you held on, counting down the seconds you would allow yourself this morning with your hands over your face.

The sobs subsided as you counted down closer and closer to 10 to 9 to 8 to 7 to 6 to 5 to 4 to 3 to 2 to 1.

And then…

You let your hands fall to your lap where you brushed your open tear stained palms against your thighs and released an ever deeper exhale.

“Ok boys, let’s get to work,” you said, removing the envelope that had been carefully taped to the top of the box after wadding up the brown paper packaging and tossing it into your waste basket.

“May these items make their way to you safely and find you at peace. With these items now restored and delivered to you, may your journey to healing truly begin,” penned in elegant handwriting by someone who had chosen to remain anonymous. Though without a name written you knew already who had sent the package.

*Knock Knock*

“Yes?” You asked, approaching your office door again as the secretary, Margo, who had knocked entered, her heels scuffing the threshold of your door at her abrupt entry.

“Hi, just wanted to let you know that your 2:00pm is here. Should I send them down to the studio or were you starting in your office?” She asked, her eyes bright as she leaned in and waited for your response.

“If you don’t mind sending them in to my office here, I think we’ll start here today,” you said, coming from around your desk to approach your baby grand piano as you awaited your third client of the day, hearing the whoosh click as Margo ducked back into the hall.

To think back again on where you had been the past couple of years while standing in the freedom of the present was jarring every time you turned to see the photographs of your late son and father framed in black and white on your desk. From time to time as you worked with your clients you would look back at your desk, seeing their smiling faces encouraging you, and urging you forward. It was no different today as your newest client, Camila, entered, and the writing session immediately began.

Camila was newly signed to your company’s label, and as all the artists were who were signed, she was a promising singer-songwriter in the making. Your goal was to help her along in her songwriting process by providing advisement where needed until you created the lyrics she was looking for.  A role you relished more and more as the days wore on as you met each successive project and challenge.

You spent an hour together, chatting in between tea brought in by Margo and listening through samples from your previous recording sessions, and at the close of the session with three songs drafted, promised and planned to meet within the following week to close out the project.

“Wow! That’s a gorgeous typewriter, is it a family relic?” Camila asked, not failing to note the initials on the leather case.

You beamed at her, showing her your father’s picture on your desk.

“It was his, my father’s. He was a writer as well. Poetry and short stories mostly. He taught English at my high school and a couple of Early Native American literature courses at the community college in my hometown,” she smiled at you, holding the frame in her hands carefully before placing it back in your hands for you to reposition on the desk beside the others.

“That’s awesome that you had writing in common,” she said and you nodded, replying, “yea, I really treasured that. He’s definitely been my inspiration.”

As you led her down the hall you heard the jingle of your office phone.

“Ah, I know the way to the lobby if you have to take that. Thank you so much as always for your encouragement. See you next week!” She called, waving as she went ahead and you nodded to her graciously before ducking back into your office.

You caught it on the last ring.

“______ with Aspire Publishing, how may I help you?”

“__!!! Hi it’s Ophelia!”

“Oh wow hey! How are you?! I just heard the news about your album. That’s so incredible!”

“Thank you so much. It couldn’t have happened without you. Seriously! And also, I wanted to invite you to this festival I’m headlining this weekend in the area. I’ll be performing a couple songs from the album and I would just be over the moon if you could come!”

“Of course! I’m there. Just let me know the details and everything. My weekend is pretty clear,” you said, shifting from holding the phone against your ear to tucking it in between your ear and shoulder as you looked for your desk planner to pen the event.

After gathering the details you texted your best friend Awinita who had already planned to come into town.

“Hey so what about a music festival this weekend? Would Tobias be down for that?” You quickly texted as you packed up your desk as Margo knocked again at your door to deliver lunch, a large quinoa salad, chili cheese fries and sweet fry bread from a local food truck.

As you set up your lunch tray on your small coffee table behind the loveseat where you and Camila had just completed the day’s session, you felt a buzz in your pocket where you were sure Awinita was replying.

After sanitizing your hands with your pocket hand sanitizer, you poured yourself a glass of water from your pitcher where it rested on the dining tray along the wall and brought it to your place setting.

“Yea I was just about to ask you about that festival because I saw Ophelia’s name on a flyer when I was scrolling through Eventbrite earlier! Let’s do it!! Also...Tobias had a friend in the area who we planned to link up with if that’s ok with you? Maybe he could meet us out there?”

“Sounds good to me. Are y’all still going to be here on Friday then?” You texted back.

“Yea girl. Riding out on Thursday night and we should be in on Friday morning,” she replied with a kiss emoji.

You laughed happily and went back to finishing your lunch.

_________

“Hi Mr. Stone, I just wanted to let you know that I received the package,” you said into your phone, your purse on your lap.

“Greetings Ms. ______, I’m pleased to hear that,” he responded in the gravelly bass you had grown accustomed to following that fateful phone call at the beginning of this new year.

You remembered again the letter that had arrived on Christmas in the previous year when you were still living with Awinita before she had started dating Tobias.

“Who is that from? How can someone send something on Christmas? I thought everything was basically stopped,” she wondered aloud as you two sat together and opened the letter that arrived by a man who did not appear to work for USPS nor any of the other mail carriers you were familiar with. He didn’t wait for you to respond once he placed the letter in your hands and simply turned sharply on his heel to duck into the black Audi he had arrived in.

After tearing open the envelope with the letter opener Awinita offered you, your slipped your fingers inside to pull out the lone cream cardstock on which was penned a short note upon which five smaller envelopes were carefully pinned to its back.

You recognized the handwriting immediately, feeling a mixture of apprehension and hope churning within your stomach as you began to read the words written there.

“Though this can never replace what you have lost, in the new year please call these numbers in the following order.

I wish you well in the new year,

Chanyeol”

Perplexed but still hoping, you opened each of the envelopes where he had written legal, counseling, and employment option 1, employment option 2, and employment option 3.

He offered you a legal advisor, if given your approval and who if given time, would potentially review your case and provide counsel in your impending trial set to begin within the new year.

He suggested that the legal advisor could also be counted on to supply you advice in maneuvering legal and financial matters outside of court proceedings.

He offered you counseling resources for grief to help with any trauma inflicted during the proceedings, and in any personal matters which he oddly left unspecified.

He also offered employment opportunities in the realm of writing as a lyricist for multiple publishing companies you had only dreamed of. “These are companies I would recommend but I am not familiar with more than two of them through professional contact. Whichever you choose, if you so choose, please let the legal advisor know. They have been instructed to provide my recommendations to assist in your application process. However, a recommendation is not a guarantee for employment. I wish you the best in your future interviews if you accept these offers.”

“Take the deal,” Awinita stated after looking over the details.

She was still looking at the employment opportunities while you were looking at the notes you had brought from your bedroom to review.

“Take the deal _______. What he’s offering we can’t afford on our own. We just can’t. And things don’t look good with this case. You deserve this saving grace. You can finally have a life ______. After all of this that happened...and he’s right. It’s no guarantee but the legal advisor sounds promising,” she looked at you as if she hoped you already planned to take the deal but you couldn’t help the rising fear.

It felt strange to look at this handwritten letter that held none of his voice or his warmth.

It was clinical, sterile but still...him?

“I did ask him for help,” you confessed aloud again looking at the letters with her, pushing your stack of notes to the side away from your view.

“And he’s offering you help now,” she emphasized the ‘now’ as if meaning to say ‘forget what was before and move forward now.’

You spent that Christmas and New Years holiday wondering if you should call him but thought better of that when you remembered again that encounter you’d had at Metaphysics Records, and the faces who stumbled in upon you broken and pleading upon his conference room floor. The way they had looked over your head at Chanyeol as if to spare you any embarrassment when he failed to answer your request, and you excused yourself out the door.

You wondered often how you had looked to them and to him. You wondered if that’s why, after weeks of silence, that he sent you these offers and didn’t follow up with a phone call to make sure that you received the message.

Had he meant to send it or was he advised to sent it?

Does it matter?

You need the help.

You can’t afford to hire the legal help you need to fight this.

You are grieving.

You are...lost.

You waited until the evening of the 2nd once alone again in jittery anxiety when Awinita had gone to visit her parents, and dialed the number Chanyeol had written in compacted script, and heard the voice you had come to find such solace and comfort in.

“Hello, I...my name is _____ and I am calling to speak with Mr. Stone about legal advice,” you heard your voice wavering as you held the phone to your ear, trying to keep your hands from trembling.

“Ah yes, Ms. ______. Thank you so much for calling. I am happy to be of assistance to you in your legal needs. If you could put me in touch with your current attorney so that I can discuss with him further what assistance I can provide, then I would also like to meet with you both in order to plan our approach. With your permission of course, Ms. _____,” his voice was calm as he spoke to you in unhurried tones, and all at once you felt thankful and reassured that things really could get better.

You did as he asked and within a week you assembled your legal team to discuss your counter defense to what the defense had alluded to. What anxiety you felt about entering the courtroom in opposition to your sister had dissipated as the promises made by your legal team were carried out in the manner of requesting that your sister agreed to a plea deal in exchange for a dismissal of certain grievous charges and commitment to receive necessary treatment in a secure and holistic mental health care facility.

“We recommend that this unfortunate encounter is settled quietly within the family. These are sisters who have been dealt a truly horrendous hand. We believe that in a moment of sincere distress due to the workload, and responsibilities shouldered considerably by both sisters and undoubtedly more so by the elder sister, caused the accusations heard during previous meetings to be made. My client does not hold any animosity towards her sister nor her dearly departed parents. My client remained within the family home and strived to contribute to the family home to the best of her ability. My client offered her assistance at any and every opportunity to her late mother, and worked together with her sister to also provide safe care for her late son. While the defendant is being penalized as appropriate for inflicting harm that resulted in the unfortunate death of my client’s late son, my client does not wish any ill will or disadvantageous situation to happen upon the defendant. Instead we would request, despite the degree of the crime, that mercy is granted upon the defendant who is a first time offender and that the defendant is evaluated by a licensed mental health clinician, and is able to consider long term mental health services within a safe, affirming environment.

In addition to these requests your honor we would like to move for a strict restraining order to be placed upon the other party identified in the serious allegations made by the defendant. While we would request mercy in the consideration of the familial relationship between my client and the defendant, we would alternatively request strict and harsh punishment to the other party who has repeatedly battered and aggravated my client. We can provide documentation in a later proceeding that will substantiate our request and prove that the other party is truly a danger to not only my client but to the defendant as well. The other party has brutally taken advantage of both of these young women under the premise of providing financial assistance and support of which they so sorely needed as their parents were struggling to return to healthy functioning. If so granted, we would request that the other party is strictly prevented from residing within the same state of which my client is a resident. We would request that the other party is not allowed to call, text, or communicate in any way through any alternate means, such as by way of a proxy, to deliver harmful, insidious violence or intimidation upon my client. We thank you for hearing our requests and recommendations at this time.”

And as you requested through your legal team the judge so granted. Within a month’s time you began counseling services with a licensed mental health counselor, and following that also sought out the employment opportunities with the listed publishing companies Chanyeol provided.

While all of the interviews went well, you decided to accept the offer from a company Chanyeol was not affiliated with and whose location was in Southern Arizona far from your childhood home.

Mr. Stone put you in touch with a realtor who quickly sold your home to an interested young family with infant children. In addition he also advised you on how to save the money you received from both the sale of your parent’s house, and your late mother’s life insurance policy.

The months spent moving in, training, and jump starting your client base blurred by with not a word from nor even a sudden appearance by Chanyeol and day by day as the winter warmed to spring you began to let go and make peace with his absence because of how much he had blessed you. Even the letters written in good faith to your sister all returned in a bundle unopened with a new searing red stamp of “return to sender.”

To be severed from these two people, one who had been in your life since your childhood and one who had changed your life forever, left you confused most days. Reconciliation not only seemed impossible but felt ludicrous to hope for.

Move on ________.

Move on.

“Really Mr. Stone, I couldn’t say thank you enough for everything you have done to help me. I’m really thankful that this could be restored,” you said to the legal advisor now.

“Absolutely. It was my absolute pleasure. All of the other items have also been restored and are now in storage as you requested. Please let me know if there is anything else I can assist you with. Anytime day or night, know that you can call on me,” he insisted once again as he had since the day you first spoke.

Now you said goodbye to Mr. Stone, the man who had become somewhat of a surrogate uncle to you, and your week went on.

——————

“Hi I’m _______, and you must be Hugh?” You asked over the din in the dimly lit brewery’s lounge where the weekend r&b soul festival had begun.

Awinita and her boyfriend Tobias had arrived just as they planned, and had stayed with you from Friday night into this Sunday evening. After spending the weekend together enjoying the good weather hiking, you had ridden together and entered the Soul Festival to wait for the date Awinita had arranged for you.

“I mean...is it cool if we see it as a double date? He’s one of Tobias’ really good friends and he’s a really nice guy you know? I’ve told him a little about you and he’s excited to meet you this weekend, if you’re cool with that. If not we could always just meet up with him later of course and we three can go out,” she said as she helped you fix your hair Saturday night in preparation for Sunday evening.

Tobias, a mutual friend from high school who had grown into something more for Awinita after reuniting at your class reunion, had cooked you both dinner, a childhood favorite of pine nut catfish and corn salad.

“I’m open to that yea,” you agreed and the following night rode up to the venue with Awinita and Tobias to meet Hugh, who was tall with a loose-limbed athletic build. His dark ebony hair dusted his shoulders in full bodied waves, and his almond emerald green eyes were mesmerizing.

“Yea, it’s nice to meet you, ______,” he drawled, his accent catching you off guard, as his eyes took you in. You resisted the urge to look at Awinita though you were sure she was gauging your reaction from beside Tobias.

Together the four of you entered the venue, you beside Hugh with Awinita and Tobias following, and found an open table to sit at.

“I’ll get the first round,” Tobias immediately offered upon you all getting settled and you accepted, thanking him as Hugh turned to you.

“So are you excited to hear Ophelia tonight? Awinita told me that she was a client of yours,” he asked, reaching to comb his locks back from his eyes with his fingers as he waited for you to answer, a whiff of his heady scent escaping at the movement.

Mmm…

“Definitely. Actually I should probably see if I can let her know that I’m here,” you said, pulling on the strap of your satchel to untwist the purse from the opposite side of your waist so that you could reach for your cell.

“Wait isn’t that her?” Awinita asked suddenly, pointing towards the stage where you could clearly see her speaking with her band.

“Yea, I’ll just go say hi quickly and I’ll be right back. Excuse me for just a second,” you said to Hugh, who nodded as he watched you stand to leave, tucking away the conversation he wanted to have until you returned.

You moved through the crowd carefully, edging closer to the stage where they all stood on the floor in front of the mics until you finally reached Ophelia and her live band.

“Ophelia, hi,” you exclaimed seeing her turn just as you approached, her eyes full as saucers at your appearance.

“__!!! Oh my gosh! Thank you so much for coming! Guys this is ______, da best,” she winked at you as she brought you closer to the band for introductions. You waved at the members who would each play keyboard, synth, drum kit, saxophone, and bass assembled on the stage.

“Thank you so much for inviting me, Ophelia. Can’t wait to hear you,” you said, turning to hug her again after greeting the members.

“Of course, __! Couldn’t imagine doing this without you being here. Hope you enjoy the show!” She called as you turned to head back to your seat, waving at some of your fellow team that you spotted in the seats closer to the stage as you made your way through the crowded tables filled with patrons dining on tapas, beer, and cocktails.

Awinita waved you back over, an event flyer in her hand. Hugh offered you a drink as you came to sit beside him, which you took while looking at the flyer.

“So these are all the labels and companies represented here tonight by artists who are performing...isn't Metaphysics…,” Awinita looked up at you, her eyes wide with realization.

“Oh...I...well yea that’s that label but of course they would be here. That’s cool,” you said, finally sitting in your chair as the house lights came down, and Ophelia took the stage.

Just because his label is here does not mean he is here though, you shrugged turning to whisper something to Hugh when a face caught your eye.

Hugh, who had been intently bobbing along to the beat of Ophelia’s drummer, snapped to attention at your sudden leaning in towards him.

“Yea?” He asked huskily, his dark hair falling into his eyes again.

“Um, I...sorry. I forgot what I was going to say,” you blushed, fiddling with a non existent loose strand of hair as you turned away.

“Oh,” he whispered under his breath, leaning back in his chair.

But you turned again, sipping your glass of wine.

I was sure that I had seen…

The crowd around you erupted in applause at the close of Ophelia’s number, and she bowed neatly before the next number began.

“Ah, dry again,” Tobias sighed as he finished off his glass.

“You really like that one huh? We should buy some when we get back,” Awinita whispered against his cheek, his arm curled around her shoulders.

He nodded against her lips, a small smile on his lips at the intimate way she kissed his ear before turning her attention back to Ophelia.

“I’ve got the next round,” you announced, standing to make your way to the bar.

Hugh jumped at the announcement. It seemed like you had beat him to it.

“Sure? I could get this round this time. In fact I think this one was on me,” he insisted, standing to go ahead of you to the bar but you held up your hands to him shaking your head.

“No worries. I’ll be right back.”

His mouth opened and closed quickly as if he meant to try to gently convince you but seeing that you were already determined to go, he swallowed his statement and took his seat.

You milled again through the crowd to the bar off to the left side of the stage, nudging past patrons who stood swaying in small groups as they listened along.

“Two orange peels, and two glasses of rosado,” you told the bartender once you’d gotten her attention.

While waiting for your orders you fiddled with your purse, shaking off a slight shudder down your spine.

Why do I feel so nervous about this?

Hugh seems nice.

I’m just out of practice.

I’m just…

“__-____?” A raspy baritone voice called out to you.

You turned, wide eyed as you saw the face you knew you’d seen.

You knew those eyes anywhere.

“Chanyeol…” you breathed, suddenly parched at the gleam of his smile.

“I...I thought I saw you for just a moment in the crowd headed towards the stage but it’s really you,” he said when you said nothing more.

“I...yea. Yea I’m here to see my...Ophelia is one of the artists I’ve worked with,” you said nodding to where Ophelia waved to the crowd after closing the number.

“Really? She’s great. I like her vibe,” he said looking from you to her and then turning again to the bar where you both stood quiet for a moment.

“Yea she’s awesome. I’m so glad to have had the opportunity to work with her. I...I well I didn’t know when I could call just with everything happening. But I...thank you Chanyeol. I just. I was hoping I could tell you thank you at some point but-“

He shrugged, leaning against the bar which brought his posture lower and closer to you.

“I’m glad everything is ok. That you’re doing ok. How’s work? You loving it?” He asked and you nodded emphatically, refraining from spilling everything that you truly loved about your work. Would he really hear everything you had to say over the music, the conversation, the ambiance?

“So you’re here with Metaphysics? How is everything going? From the flyer it looks like you have a couple of artists performing tonight,” you said and smiled proudly at your mentioning of it.

“Yea things are going well there for me also,” he replied, the proud smile still on his lips as he watched you.

“That’s great. I’m so glad to hear that. I-”

“Ma’am your drinks,” the bartender interrupted, taping you lightly on the arm.

“Oh yes. Thank you,” you said turning back to the bar to finish out the transaction.

You looked back at Chanyeol who looked down at the tray she offered you, and thought you could see him counting the drinks.

“I’m here with Awinita and her boyfriend and a friend,” you blurted to which he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh? I wasn’t sure if you were here in a work capacity or…” he shrugged nonchalantly though his eyes roved from your face to something behind you. The open sun of his smile had dipped behind the shadow of an uncertain look.

You turned to see Hugh behind you, an unsuspecting smile on his face.

“Hey I thought you may need help carrying the drinks since you were taking awhile. You missed a lot of Ophelia’s set,” he chuckled in a friendly tone as he picked up the tray.

You turned again to see Chanyeol watching you, his expression closed.

And cold like that letter.

“I...Hugh this is Chanyeol. Chanyeol this is Hugh,” you didn’t understand why you didn’t introduce them both to one another as friends of yours. Hugh placed the tray back on the bar and reached a hand out to Chanyeol which Chanyeol received, his smile clipped.

“Hi I guess you also work for Aspire?” Hugh asked to which Chanyeol shook his head.

“No actually, I’m from Metaphysics. ______ and I know each other from another event,” Chanyeol stated simply, his eyes never leaving Hugh as he spoke to him.

Hugh nodded , unassuming and sweet.

“Well I’ll grab these then. You coming?” He asked you as he held the tray of drinks once more, his head tilted back towards the table where Awinita waited.

“Yea I…” you turned back to Chanyeol and saw the tempered heat in his eyes as he watched you.

“It was nice seeing you again. Enjoy the show,” you said, backing away to follow Hugh back to your table, noting that Chanyeol’s eyes did not leave yours until you turned away.

_______

“So what did you think of Hugh,” Awinita asked you on the phone as you drove back to your house.

You all had parted ways at the venue doors following the end of the festival performance. Hugh asked you out on a date for the following weekend to which you immediately said yes. Tobias and Awinita had waited until you parted ways and gotten safely into your cars before asking what you thought of the night’s events.

“He’s really sweet. Kind of a music nerd like me which is cool. He’s also beautiful. His hair, oh my god,” you gushed to Awinita who laughed aloud at your confessions.

“So you like him enough to see him for another date without all of us?” Tobias asked, and you heard a muffled “ouch” and figured that Awinita elbowed him.

“Yea I have to admit that I was a little nervous going out tonight. It’s just been awhile since I’ve been out. I just work each day and head home and don’t really go out to meet people. So tonight was just nice to meet people and-”

“Dance! Girl! I saw you and Hugh getting down out there. He thought he was moving but girl you were serving,” you both laughed aloud at that.

“Yea he was a lot of fun. I’m looking forward to seeing him again,” you said as you pulled up to your house and turned off the ignition.

“Sounds good hun. Have you made it home?” Awinita asked, a pop and crackling of a soda can sounding in the background.

“Yea I am. You guys drive safely. Are you really far out of the city now? If you want you can always stay the night and just drive out in the morning,” you offered but knew that Tobias had to be to work in the morning.

“Next time love. We’ll see you next time,” Awinita promised.

“Ok. Well I love you both! Please call me when you make it in!” You asked and heard them return the sentiment before you hung up, hopped out of your car and froze at the sight of a hooded figure on your doorstep.

The shadowed person turned at the sound of the slam of your car door.

You felt a feverish chill break over your body as you stood.

Go, you have to go, go now! Now! Now! Your body screamed.

As quickly as you could, you ripped open your car’s door and slammed it shut just as the shadowed person raced towards your car, slapping the trunk as you sped away.

You drove blindly for an hour before stopping at a nearby elementary school to call your legal advisor.

“There was someone at my house. I couldn’t see their face or hair or hear their voice but I think they were about 5’8” to 5’9”. Very athletic build. They were dressed all in black and wore a hood. I drove closer to the downtown area and am at this elementary school,” you informed him, turning over your shoulder to look at the name of the school so you could share your location with him.  

“Ok. Please lock your door. Call the police. I will be there shortly,” he brusquely ended the call and you followed through on his instructions informing the police with as much information as you could possibly give them.

After calling you closed your eyes and pressed your phone to your chest, willing yourself to be calm and not to cry.

You can’t call Awinita to come back and stay with you.

Knowing Tobias they’re probably already there by now and he has to work in the morning.

Definitely cannot call Hugh.

Let the police clear the house first and then you can stay there tonight.

Don’t be afraid.

You repeated those instructions to yourself over and over and over until you heard a voice outside your car door.

“_____? ______ are you ok?”

“Chanyeol?” You gasped at his sudden appearance at your driver’s side window, breaking you of your calm concentration.

After opening the door, you stood in front of him, trembling.

“How-”

“I told Mr. Stone that if anything ever happened to you that he should call me immediately. I was just finishing up at the venue and he told me where you were. Are you ok?” He asked again, his eyes looking over you in a way that you felt a doctor would, checking for any signs of pain or trauma.

“I’m alright really. I got away and they weren’t following me. The police should be here shortly and then I’ll head back. Th-Thank you for coming,” you felt the quaking of your limbs increasing as the police arrived followed by Mr. Stone just as Chanyeol stepped closer. You were grateful for the distraction however.

They escorted you back to your home where you waited outside with Mr. Stone and Chanyeol both of whom stood before you as dragons, emitting gusts of hot air at the surrounding air as it blew around you.

After a fifteen minute walk through the police joined you where you waited on the opposite side of the street further down.

“Well ma’am we cannot find anyone source of entry or disturbance within the home. However what we can do is put a patrol on the house. Is there someone you can stay with-”

“Honestly I would prefer to stay at home. If it’s not too much to ask for a patrol for tonight, I would appreciate it,” you said dismissing the idea that you would go elsewhere.

No one if going to chase me away from here.

“Absolutely ma’am. If that’s your request. At the first sign of anything please give us a call,” he shook your hand as well as Mr. Stone and Chanyeol’s hands before walking back to his squad car parked in front of your house and radioed in the request.

Chanyeol’s familiar black Jeep was parked just behind his patrol car and Mr. Stone’s sleek BMW was parked behind your car on the opposite side of the street.

“I can stay with you if you want,” Mr. Stone offered and you took his hand gratefully in yours.

“I’ll be alright really. Thank you so much for coming. I’ll feel even more afraid if I stay somewhere else and then I won’t want to come back here. The patrol should be here any moment,” you said as Mr. Stone reached to hug you into his chest.

“If that is your will. As always I’m not too far away. I will call every hour until you retire to make sure that you are safe,” he departed with that statement after nodding to Chanyeol  and climbed into his BMW.

“Are you sure you don’t want someone to stay with you? I’ll sit outside for a little while if that’s ok too,” Chanyeol asked, pulling his keys from his jeans pocket as he moved towards his Jeep.

But you lifted a shaking hand, regretting that you had done so when you saw the way Chanyeol looked at you trembling there before him.

“I’m ok,” you insisted turning to head inside the house, hearing Chanyeol behind you.

“I’ll stay right out here in the car ok? Lock the door,” he said as you entered through the front door.

He closed the door behind you and you locked the door, crossing the floor to sit on your couch.

The quaking of your knees increased the longer you sat in silence, watching the clock on your kitchen wall ticking away the hour you spent frozen in place.

You are safe.

It’s ok.

It’s ok.

It’s-

*RIIIIING*

“H-hello?” You scrambled to pick up your cell phone you dropped at its sudden brash ringing and heard Chanyeol ask, “you doing ok? You haven’t moved from the living room. None of the other lights in the house are on.”

You cupped the phone to your ear, swallowing audibly.

“______?”

You swallowed past another dry patch in your throat.

“______?”

“I think Mr. Stone is calling,” you said as your other line beeped and you clicked over to hear Mr. Stone asking how you were.

“If you feel comfortable allowing Mr. Park into your home to sit with you, that may help you to move throughout the home and ready yourself to retire. If not, I can come by to stay with you,” his tone was doting in a way that made your quivering turn into inaudible sniffling.

“I may ask him inside. I thought I could go into the house and just get on with the night but it’s hard. I don’t want to call you back after you just drove home. I will ask Chanyeol inside. Good night Mr. Stone,” you said ending the call once he had said goodbye.

You clicked back over, shakily bringing the phone back to your ear.

“_______?”

“Chanyeol, please come inside,” you said, hearing how small your voice was in the echo of your dimly lit stucco home.

“Can you make it to the door to unlock it?” He seemed to be genuinely concerned or maybe you hoped he was. There wasn’t a hint of teasing in his voice or malice.

“Yes,” you stood and made it to the door, feeling your knees knocking as you heard his car door slam outside.

He met you at the door as you opened it, his phone still to his ear as you also held yours there, frozen.

The patrol car slowly cruised by on the street just beyond your door and Chanyeol turned to wave to them as they continued on their way.

“You ok?” He asked as you stepped back to allow him in and he closed the door behind you both.

“Yes. I’m...if you could just. I am going to walk through and take a shower. Please make yourself comfortable,” you said gesturing shakily to the couch as you walked back to your bedroom.

You knew the police had already walked through and that there was no one else there but the surreal quiet of your home that had always been filled with music at this hour of night was solidifying you in a petrified state.

Even a brisk warm shower didn’t ease your nerves.

You returned to your bedroom to change, hearing Chanyeol in the kitchen on the phone with someone.

“Yes we’re still not sure how this happened. How in the hell does someone randomly show up in the middle of the night and just disappear? There’s a patrol yea.”

You wondered for a brief insane moment if he had had anything to do with it and felt guilty for second guessing him.

But how could Chanyeol have appeared so suddenly?

This whole time he had known where you were but just hours ago he had acted like he didn’t know anything…

Was he in regular contact with Mr. Stone about your whereabouts  or did he really give you your space unless something bad happened to you?

You worried all the way out into the hall back to your kitchen where Chanyeol was seated on your living room sofa, the call finished, his head in his hands.

He looked up at the sound of your slippered feet trudging along the floor.

And the look in his eyes, the return of that bright sunny smile, stilled the tremors wracking your body.

“It’s ok, _______. We’ll figure this out,” he said, his tone steady as he looked at you.

Your cell phone that you had left on the coffee table chimed suddenly and Chanyeol reached for it, standing to bringing the phone to you.

You brought it to your ear as you asked, “hello?”

“Seems like you’re still breathing huh bitch?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, the feverish chill resurfacing.

“I am going to fucking kill you!” The garbled voice shouted and you pulled the phone from your ear, your stomach churning.

Chanyeol’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern at the way you shook but you brought the phone to your ear again.

“You cannot call me. You cannot be in touch with me,” you answered Liam, your ex boyfriend.

He chortled at the way you answered, as if he was glad that you knew exactly who it was without him identifying himself.

“Nah bitch how did you get that money?! Who the fuck are you fucking now?! Huh?! That was my fucking money bitch. You owe me! THAT WAS MINE!!” he continued to yell into the phone and as you lowered it Chanyeol reached for it but you snatched it from his grasp putting a finger to your lips.

You placed Liam on muted speaker phone, bringing his tirade to its climax.

Chanyeol frowned at the words he used and seemed furious with the idea that he had to remain quiet while he listened to Liam insult you over and over and over again. But you placed the phone down on the kitchen counter and walked around the counter to find the only house phone that you kept in the kitchen.

You dialed Mr. Stone and told him what you had rehearsed, “I have him on speaker phone. Are you available to record?”

You heard the snap of a button and Mr. Stone stonily replied, “we are recording. Once he finishes the call, allow him to hang up.”

You placed the phone on the counter alongside your cell where Liam continued to hurl obscenities at you and your family.

You stood looking at the phone now counting 10 minutes that had gone past of his ruthless anger.

You felt Chanyeol suddenly beside you and looked up to see him watching you as he had done all evening. His gaze was open and thoughtful as he suddenly asked, “do you want to sit down? I...can I get you anything?”

Hardly the questions you thought you would hear.

You sat on the sofa opposite him, exhausted.

He was quiet for a while as if he was waiting for you but you ignored the urge you had to say something.

It had been months since he had seen you and all this time that you spent hoping for reconciliation, thinking you had been parted with for your benefit, doing your best in attending your counseling services despite your inability to reasonably achieve closure without being able to see the two people left in your world who you needed closure from.

As you sat in silence, gradually descending into yourself, you felt in the midst of your exhaustion a stirring anger at the realization that he hadn’t been far from you at all. He had hidden himself from you in the familiarity of Mr. Stone who had seemed someone safe and removed. He had robbed you even of that.

“________…”

“Why do you keep messing with me, Chanyeol? Why are you here?” You heard yourself saying, despite the way your body had sunken into a fetal curve in the seat of your couch.

You saw him turn to look at you, his smile quivering in shock.

“I’m not here to mess with you ______. I’m here to-”

“Why are you here? Why did you help me?” You asked, seeing him turn so that he was facing you.

He watched you for a moment.

“Now you’re angry at me because I helped you when months ago you were asking me for help? I just wanted to make things right between us-”

“You don’t think that was weird? Acting like you didn’t know where I was and what my life has been like...have you known about Liam too? Have you been listening to these threats for months?” You heard the erratic trembling of your voice but at this moment, you would not stop yourself until you finished.

He took a breath to say something but you rose from the sofa.

“Is this some sick game to you? Do you make a habit of saving women so that you can swoop in and reap the benefits? I just...something about you and this whole thing isn’t right. I have no idea where you have been or how you have been. You just showed up. I have appreciated your help but I’m not going to sit here and have you judge me and my situation tonight. I am not going to entertain you anymore with my trauma,” you turned to walk towards the door to let him out and all at once he was standing to take your hand.

“________, wait. Please. I’m sorry...I-”

“I don’t want you here. I don’t want to do this again. Please leave me alone-”

Tears overcame you as you pulled yourself away from him.

“I’m tired of this. I’m so tired of this. All of you just leave me alone,” you hiccuped between unsteady breaths.

His expression was openly pained and sorry, his large brown eyes misting at the look of fear and indignation you gave him.

“_______. I’m sorry-” his voice cracked as you stepped away from him.

“I’ll go. If you want me to go I’ll go. I just wanted to make sure that you were ok. Really I promise you. I stayed away because I just...I’m not sure what I want. When we were trying to figure things out you weren’t ready and now...when I saw you tonight with that guy I thought-”

“But what does that have to do with anything? You didn’t ask me. You just assumed. You’ve been watching from the shadows like some creep and then suddenly when I’m doing better here you come to try again? Do you understand how fucking sick that is?” A scream was rising in you as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table and made to move past you.

“So you’re just going to walk away now? So that’s it? You have absolutely nothing to say?” You followed him to the door.

He stopped, his back tensing as he held the door knob in his hand.

You heard a “click crunch” of the handle as it turned in his hand.

You both took rasping inhales and exhales in turn, waiting the other out.

“I don’t want to fight-”

“Then what do you want?”

He turned to face you, his eyes red and his nostrils flared.

“I...I want you _____ but then…” he choked out his answer, his hands in fists at his sides.

“But then what? Why leave me in silence for months? Why did you help me? Why didn’t you just walk away?” You went on, though you knew it would have been better to be patient and wait for his response you didn’t give a damn at this point.

“I have been living in this false bubble for months. Months. My sister won’t speak to me. She won’t even let them update me about her progress. I moved away from my childhood home. I sold almost everything I could take pay back our debts. I lost...i lost my son-” you didn’t bite back the sobs that threatened to unsettle your grounded stance.

“I cannot do this anymore. This back and forth. I need the truth. I need peace. And if you’re not going to be part of that peace then just let me go Chanyeol. Please let me go-” you sobbed into your hands as you sunk to the floor.

You weren’t expecting him to catch you.

You hoped he would walk out the door and leave you to grieve alone.

You hoped he would allow you your space, finally.

But he moved swiftly to catch you where you fell, taking you into his arms.

It had been forever since you had been cradled against someone’s chest where you rested fully in their arms.

You remembered your father holding you and carrying you home after you fell from your bike in grade school.

You remembered crying into his shoulder as he told you, “you fell the first time so that you could learn how to stand up on your own next time. You’re my strong girl, you just don’t know it yet.”

Chanyeol carried you effortlessly down the hall and looked into each door until he found your bedroom.

He sat down with you still in his arms, letting out a deep breath as he turned to lay you down to rest on top of your sheets.

“Here. Just rest here,” he said, his eyes beginning to puff up no doubt from the tears in his eyes.

As you laid there, the height of your anger and the fevered race of your anxiety depleting you of the strength and the will to resist.

“I’ll just wait outside like I said. I’ll-” he began not looking at you as he awkwardly tried to help you tuck yourself into your bed though you were not turning your body to allow him to help you in.

You placed a hand on his arm, noting the depth of the tan that had settled in.

You remembered the tautness of his forearms, and the ripple of his veins.

He looked up at you as you placed your hand there.

And you saw the invitation.

You felt the fire of desire rising in the way he somehow leaned closer to you.

“Chanyeol…” you whimpered as he leaned closer and kissed your forehead.

He murmured your name like an incantation against the bridge of your nose.

His lips against yours sealed your fate.

ALMATY | PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. “crew love”

Length - 4,473

Mood - nostalgic, coolin’

Pairing - Jongdae x Reader

“Say what you mean You ain't gotta play games with me So automatic, you know so automatic Say what you mean You ain't gotta fake sh*t with me So automatic, no so automatic”

“Automatic” by The Bonfyre

__________________

“Are you flying into Arizona still or-”

You knew that _______ (Arizona OG Reader) had discussed plans with MQ just this morning and asked that he confirmed then with Chanyeol as soon as possible.

Why she decided not to mention plans to Chanyeol herself you weren’t sure since you all met in the lobby of Minseok’s resort following your day of rest before traveling back to your respective home offices.

Maybe she had only deferred to MQ since the two of you planned to leave earlier that morning but decided to sleep in and catch a later flight.

But regardless of the reason, you watched Chanyeol, the mysterious man who had a knack for reappearing.

He was just as long limbed, bowed, and agilely muscular as he had been when you met him in passing years ago at Feinbäckerei.

Like many at your university, you’d heard from classmates about a local student run bakery whose menu changed based on the seasons.

The student body was abuzz with the news each week and you were curious as to why no one shared the same story even twice a month.

Figuring that this was a place you had to experience once, you took the metro following one of your evening seminars following behind a twittering trail of animated classmates as they hurried through the front door just as the “library” packed up and the settings shifted, with the aid of a the same students who had been quietly studying, as if an unnatural retrograding force of Mother Nature personified had altered the balance of the seasons.

You managed to order a plate of buchtel and watched the magic of the evening unfold.

How could students have organized something so seamless?

What kind of mastermind put this event together?

After finishing your plate you ordered a glass of ice wine and milled about the oak tables of students gathered together whispering together throughout numbers before exploding in whooping cheers and thunderous applause amid clinking of proper wine glasses and forks tapping on porcelain dessert plates.

You recognized the way students organized themselves in packs separated by universities and regions, realizing that this had become a focal hangout regardless of university affiliation.

You remembered the last set of the evening, a gangly rouge cheeked towering boy with a mop of messy curls stepped forward to the mic, the shoulders of his hoodie slipping off of his bare shoulders as he spoke, “mic check, check, ch-ch-ch-check.”

His associates, gangly but squat where he was tall, manned their keyboards, drums, electric bass guitars and synths nodding once in approval.

You raised your eyes at their aloof stares into the crowd, and stopped mid circulation of the place to hold up the wall near the glass case where more precious buchtel could be seen amongst the assortment of desserts.

The tower turned to his left picking up his guitar, and picked up his electric guitar, fitting the strap over and down across his shoulders until he was comfortable.

You looked around at the crowd seeing that they reflected the unbothered gaze of the mute band, continuing to chatter amongst themselves quietly as if there was no one there.

The tower slightly cocked his head again to his left and the drummer kicked into gear at a zinging speed, the tower and the bass guitarist following suit their fingers sliding from the top of their instruments’ necks to its core.

You jolted at the screams of appreciation that erupted from the crowd as if they had been waiting to be electrified, and suddenly the entirety of the place was on its feet chasing the tempo of the riotous troupe.

“Different advertisements worked for different crowds we were trying to bring in. For the musicians it was the flyers, the general crowd were told by word of mouth and social media. We have patrons just casually walking by and entering too,” someone was saying in an excited voice somewhere far from the howling and stomping happening in front of you.

You turned into the hall behind you, placing your glass pitifully empty of ice wine on the counter of the glass dessert case to your right as you made your way towards the animated voices.

“Do we have all of the data we need on each of those outlets?”

“How was I supposed to keep data if you changed one of the methods at the last minute and are just now telling me about it?” A voice angrily retorted. “I’m not a mind reader.”

“It’s nothing to be so personally afflicted by,” mediated a calmer voice but you heard a grunt nonetheless from the angry voice who had just sounded.

You neared the open door of the kitchen, knocking as you came into the light of the room.

They turned towards you from where they stood at the silver cooking table, their laptops and notebooks neatly placed in front as placemats for the eight of them seated there.

“Excuse me, are you lost?” The angry voice asked of you once again, his eyebrow raised in particular annoyance at your sudden appearance.

“Hi, I’m ______,” you smiled genially, unabashed at the way they stared at you.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help wandering around the place. I was curious about who put this event together. I’ve been hearing about this place all week and I’m amazed at what’s going on here especially since I don’t recognize any of you from my university,” you looked around at them all as they were seated there watching you.

“And…? Why are you back here? What do you want? We’re busy,” the angry voice had some very angry eyes too.

“Currently I’m studying international law and this venture interests me from a sociological perspective. I understand we are from opposing schools and obviously are individually engaged in unique studies but if there is a place for someone with my background, I want to be part of it,” you answered simply, looking directly at the source of the angry voice paired with an equally irate gaze.

A brighter voice answered you after a moment of stunned silence.

He walked forward from the head of the table, extending a hand to you. He had rolled back the sleeves of his pressed white button down, his tie painted with smiley faces sporting sardonic grins, pulled aside of its alignment.

“I am Minseok. I am happy to meet you _______ and appreciate your admiration of our little school project. I am curious about how your background as you say can be of use,” he was so handsome with his glittering toothy smile and his downturned ice blue eyes.

Holding your hand in his, he turned and acknowledged each member of the table.

“That’s _______ (Arizona OG Reader), also from a neighboring university, and these two associates of mine are also from my program, _______ (Berlin Reader) and-” in your mind you couldn’t stop yourself from saying “Angry Eyes” in place of his name when Minseok mentioned it. It just fit.

_______ (Berlin Reader) and _______ (Arizona OG Reader) both nodded to you, their smiles gracious as they moved their laptops and notebooks aside and made space for you between them on the opposite of Angry Eyes at the head of the table.

As you took your seat, and pulled out your notebook from your seminar, the girl named _______ (Berlin Reader) leaned into you whispering, “welcome.”

———

You looked at Minseok now where he stood beside your tight band, and gauged the degrees of separation that had built between you all as you stood in the present. So very far from that kitchen round table and that initial kind whisper of welcome.  

Minseok stood amongst you as he had stood leader then and looked at each of you in familiar affection before settling his unyielding gaze on _______ (Lyon Reader) feeling a chilled current whip through the swirling air as you watched him wait for her to acknowledge him.

What does he want…?

After bidding sweet _______ (Lyon Reader) goodbye, you turned in arm with _______ (Arizona OG Reader) to go, pausing mid motion at that warbling baritone calling out to your friend. She turned over her shoulder, holding tightly to you.

“I am going to spend a weekend with ______, and then I’ll head back. MQ said he’ll meet you there before he goes out of town,” Fiammetta revealed, her tone bored as she informed Chanyeol. His honey brown eyes widened in surprise as he listened to her.

“Oh...I’ll see you then. Safe travels ladies,” he stepped back carefully from you both as if he heard the intention behind her rebuff, “not now please.”

You watched Chanyeol go, following behind Baekhyun who waited for him within the airport sliding doors.

You took another glance back at _______ (Lyon Reader) who watched him there, a sudden socially pleasant smile gracing her mouth that had been set in uncertainty just a moment before.

Love is powerful in its ability to disarm.

Love can redirect as well as it can guide.

And the tremors of doubt in love can sever and destroy even the most faithful to its source.

As she turned to Minseok who began to speak to her in ebullient soft tones, you pulled tighter to _______ (Arizona OG Reader), bringing her away.

She stiffened at your sudden movement but went with you when she turned and looked at the expression of mischievousness on your face.

“What’s all that about with Chanyeol? Why didn’t you tell him where you were going? What has he done to annoy you this time?” You asked, watching as her own eyes widened at your brash questions.

You almost laughed aloud at her expression. Surely she knew better than to expect you to not ask outright.

“Why do I have to tell him where I’m going? I’ve never had to tell him before. It’s just...kind of annoying to be so close in contact all the time now-”

“Kid brother annoying or annoying that you like it?” You asked, watching her turn it over in her mind.

“Can’t they do anything without us babysitting? Though I’m not sure he’s a kid brother anyway…” she tsked laughing with you as you suddenly laughed at her.

“Oh hush,” she blushed pulling away from you but you held on to her as you went your way into the airport.

————

“I always come here for provisions if I’m staying in for the weekend,” you said to _______ (Arizona OG Reader) as you passed through the market, looking over the fresh produce within the stalls.

“The fruit looks like it’s bulging. Goodness it looks so delicious. It can’t be winter time, can it?” She asked, eyeing the crates of fresh plump blackberries:

You placed your selections of assorted fruits, and fresh fish,  in your carts and hurried along to the cashier.

“And you’re only a block or two from this? Goodness I love Almaty,” _______ (Arizona OG Reader) said, falling in step beside you after wrapping her hair and shoulders to step out into the light mist.

“Mhm. Just about a block or two,” you said, adjusting your bag and purse as you waited for her.

You walked together as leisurely as you could in the light mist passing by the open shops along the way, graciously moving to the side as chittering elderly couples and chattering young parents and their children passed alongside you both heading to the market you had just left.

“Hey honey, we’re home!” You called as you entered with _______ (Arizona OG Reader) on your heels heading straight for the kitchen to wash your wares.

“I got the rest of the assembly love if you want to get comfortable,” you said to her after she helped you wash the last of the fruits.

“It’s so heavenly here _____. You could never get me out of here,” _______ (Arizona OG Reader) said as she walked down the earthen stairs into the den just beyond your kitchen island where you assembled your buffet for the afternoon.

You joined her on your suede couch proudly parading the tray of provisions in front of you both but dissolved into laughter the moment you saw the look on _______’s (Arizona OG Reader) face once she saw your chess board.

“It’s time for a rematch,” she declared, eyebrows raised in challenge as you poured a glass of chapoutier belleruche for you both before taking a seat and rolling up your own sleeves.

“Best of three?” You agreed as you munched on a fleshy grape.

“Mhm! But what should we- yes! Have you heard their latest EP?” She exclaimed as you turned in the middle of her sentence to wheel your vinyl cart from its nested place beside the record player until it was beside you where you sat on the couch opposite _______ (Arizona OG Reader) who reclined on your loveseat.

She popped up at the sight of the embossed vinyl cover you offered her, reaching over the tempered glass coffee table where your acrylic chess set had been placed.

You turned the record over in your hands to the A side and positioned the needle, the neo soul tune rippling throughout your heated den.

She took a sip of the chapoutier belleruche as she reclined on your love seat, a hedonistic smile curling at her lips as she cradled the vinyl.

“Those were the days,” she murmured sipping leisurely from her glass before you poured both her and yourself another glass.

“We were a wild bunch for awhile...we had such dreams then,” you reminisced along with her, wrapping yourself around one of the pillows there your mother had stitched from your father’s work shirts.

“How is it being here now though? I know it was hard for you then and I’m sorry I couldn’t come-” you shook your head at the apology away that she offered again. When you first reconnected she had said something similar but shorter as you had to shift focus quickly into the multitude of tasks _______ (Berlin Reader) and Minseok had demanded. But finally here together she meant to discuss it further but didn’t mind not talking about it now. You were at peace after all.

“No one knew how long we had. I’m glad I came back for him and got to see him. I’m sorry that we all lost touch over the years and just went our separate ways but that’s how it goes. I mean I didn’t get to be there for you when-” and like you she shook her head, her sensual smile borne of the homey atmosphere of warmth, alcohol, soul, and chess splitting to reveal a slight regretful frown at the mention of that broken engagement she never wanted to discuss at length, an intimacy you and so few were allowed.

“It’s like we just faded back into our own lives and all the promises we made just…” you made a flimsy gesture with your hand as the next song succeeded the first.

She sighed heavily, tipping her head back as she took another sip.

“I feel like I’ve just been going and going for years. Just moving and working and it’s been fun. For the most part,” she whispered, as she eyed the bottle that was half as full as it had been when you both sat down.

She looked to you and you nodded, and so she reached forward, tipping her glass slightly to gather more of the wine before pouring you some as well.

“But this, this business venture. This is incredible, _______ . It’s like the whole world is our playground,” she sighed again as she reclined, finally making her move along the board.

You eyed your options across the board, answering in kind, “it’s sinful how invincible it felt reuniting with you all over the past year. This board covers so many fields, so many outlets for creativity. There is so much potential here...it’s too good to be true.”

She waited until you moved and then leaned forward, swaying slightly as she made her approach.

“It is too good to be true. The Pathcodes are a fairytale. It’s the global empire companies dream of becoming,” She inhaled the last dregs of her glass and you followed her lead, hearing yourself beginning to hum along in time with the keyboard as you reclined again.

“From an orphan to a billionaire leading our merry empire, Minseok has had the Cinderella tale to beat all tales,” You mused, turning on your side with your father’s pillow clutched to your chest to watch her next move as she leaned forward, considering.

You picked up a couple grapes while you waited.

“Do you think it’ll last though? I mean...yea it’s been a great year but this is a different group of people than we started with then,” she stated simply, nodding to you when she’d considered all of her options and made her advance.

You thought back to the group you knew, the eclectic multidisciplinary gathering of students within the greater Berlin area, and reflected on who had now arrived in the present.

“Why do you mean do I think it will last? Minseok is just as ruthless as he was then. He almost got himself and the rest of us arrested for carrying on with his social experiment even after the semester was over because we were not legally operating in that abandoned building,” You chuckled at the memory but _______ (Arizona OG Reader) tilted her chin to the side as she eyed you.

Get real.

“Do you think the board is really going to last? The event was spectacular yes. Our gains have been phenomenal. Public interest and approval is solid. Our community partnerships are growing. But will we all last? It’s a lot of work and the wear and tear is starting to show...you heard what I heard…” she inclined her head towards you in a knowing way.

“Well, I mean we talked about that while we were there. I...I don’t know. I couldn't have imagined this empire coming from what we started back then. We were not there in our minds. We would have kept the little library going and actually legally set everything up as it should have been, but that was peanuts compared to what we are doing now. And it could never have been possible without the team that we have now. I honestly feel like that goes without saying,” you added finally eyeing your moment of opportunity.

You dived forward moving the acrylic piece just so, winning a begrudging groan from _______ (Arizona OG Reader).

“But do you think everyone will stick around? I don’t know everyone as well as I know some-”

“Chanyeol for instance,” you quipped and she rolled her eyes at you.

“Stop,” she tried not to laugh, but you could see the room turning in her eyes. She was happily buzzed, and peachy though clearly still in control of her expressions.

You reached for the bottle to pour again.

“I just mentioned a name,” you shrugged innocently and she snorted at your attempts to feign indifference.

“It’s the way you said it. It’s so ridiculous. It just happened once,” she sighed, gathering her hair from her neck as she gathered it into a bun atop her head. As soon as she removed her hands, her hair tumbled from the top of her head allowing her a brief moment of cool respite from where the barrel curls were sticking to her neck.

She popped some cool grapes in her mouth.

“I don’t know if the entire board will last but it happens you know? We all have lives, don’t we? I say we just allow it to be fun for as long as we can and then-”

“Minseok is serious about world domination though. Can’t you tell? We talked about him being an orphan and his trust he’d been left as a child after he completed boarding school in Berlin but he’s earned beyond what was left to him. I don’t see someone that hungry ever stopping no matter what’s going on around him. And I’m not sure everyone has decided on this being their life’s work the way that he has. We have a varied group of people giving their time to this. People have children now, some are married, some are still dating...I just...can we depend on this board to keep going? Is this a real thing?” She popped a couple more grapes in her mouth, munching thoughtfully as she thought of a winning counter to your move.

She sighed as she gracefully moved from the loveseat to sit upon the furred floor rug beneath the glass coffee table.  

You thought about the people you had met, considering what they revealed about themselves and the truths they didn’t realize that they displayed.

Commitment to a dream even if it didn’t belong to you was not something you were new to. For you, your word was your bond, it was your life’s blood. You were dependable, and consistent. The same young woman who stepped into the kitchen of that abandoned building transformed into an after hours library cafe was the same woman now who navigated the global system of rules and regulations that kept the livelihoods of your board’s reputation clean.

“I think we’ll have to consider it with _______ (Berlin Reader). I know that this would be something important to her to discuss as well,” you said watching _______ (Arizona OG Reader) as an idea dawned on her mid thought.

Your phone suddenly chimes on your island counter.

“Oh boo! I don’t want to work,” you muttered into your pillow, turning away into the couch at the familiar tune.

“If they call again, I’ll answer for you and tell them just that,” she said rising from her perch to walk to your kitchen island where she grabbed your phone.

You waited for her to set it down on the coffee table in front of you before picking it up to look at the missed call.

“Oh it’s Jong-dae,” you announced, sitting up as she sat down again upon the furred floor rug.

Quickly you dialed him back, placing the phone to your ear as you gazed at the board.

“Hello ____,” you heard him smile after the first ring and you found yourself smiling as well hearing a cheeky laugh from _______ (Arizona OG Reader).

“Hey, so you’re settled back in then? How was the dinner?” You asked, tossing the other pillow beside you at _______’s (Arizona OG Reader) head when she wasn’t looking.

“Ah it went well. Thank you so much for recommending that venue for the listening party. It was perfect,” it sounded like he had company. You heard a faucet softly going and a slight whisper followed by glasses clinking in the background.

“Ah I’m so happy to hear that. That’s wonderful. But was it a bad time to call you back? It sounds like you’re busy?” You inquired but you heard him cover the phone for a moment as he spoke to his company. It sounded like he said he would be right back.

“Oh no, it’s fine. It’s just…” you heard slippered feet quickly padding away from the sound of the faucet, and a door snap open and closed.

“So how are things going there eh? Isn’t this date number…three?” You asked, chuckling as Jong-dae chuckled too at your mention of his company. From the volume of his laugh, you knew you were right.

“Yes she came to the listening party also just this afternoon. I decided to invite her over for dinner and to try that recipe you recommended too,” he lowered his voice considerably though he was far from his company you imagined.

“Oh? Well I hope you brought the right spice you know? Since you’re trying that recipe out anyway. She must be something special if you’re pulling out that recipe,” you teased and he laughed good naturedly at your prodding.

_______ (Arizona OG Reader) watched you as you listened to Jongdae tell you again about the diplomat’s daughter whom he was courting after a chance meeting at your embassy office a couple months prior.

You had fallen in a comfortable friendship with him since stepping into your advisory role, and found Jong-dae a handsome breath of fresh air that you were delighted to work with.

He was a peculiar albeit alluring combination of artist and intellectual being that he was both socially conscious and a rock and roll soloist.

In him you’d made a fast friend that you trusted almost immediately. There was something so pleasant about being in his presence, and listening to him speak that found you on the phone or within each other’s presence for hours at a time allowing the day to just slip from you.

But even he was someone, _______ (Berlin Reader) had warned you, that needed to be guided away from his natural tendencies for the protection of this joint venture you and _______ (Arizona OG Reader) had just been privately discussing.

It felt ridiculous as _______ (Arizona OG Reader) would put it to play the “older sister” role but somehow for Jong-dae you truly didn’t mind and felt that he was truly thankful to you, playing up his “younger brother” role.

“Ah, _____ noona, I learned it well since you showed it to me no? Don’t you believe I can pull it off?” He whined, slipping back into his familiar mother tongue whose nuances you could easily follow.

You rolled your eyes, waving _______ (Arizona OG Reader) on as she waited for you to make your move.

“But last time you cooked for me, you used too much spice and you weren’t trying to impress anyone then. I’m just reminding you. It’s not all about the hip work to catch a lady you know,” you heard _______ (Arizona OG Reader) spluttering wine into her glass as Jong-dae broke into a coughing fit.

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that and just go now,” he choked into the phone and you laughed as you said goodbye throwing in a “be responsible!” to him before he hung up, beaming as you placed the phone down.

“Why do you tease people so much ______? Goodness,” _______ (Arizona OG Reader) coughed again, patting her chest dry with her napkin where the wine had spilled onto her chest.

“Come on! I have older brothers. It’s just what we do. It’s how I grew up. I feel like it’s an experience to be shared. And look you’re still here,” you said, taking another sip from your glass.

I hope we’ll all still be here you thought suddenly contemplative as your phone chimed again.

EDINBURGH | PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT II. “the one who gathers thorns”

Length - 4,474

Mood - Half-hearted, Indolent

Pairing - Sehun x Reader

“Certain things I felt were missing Certain things I felt were finishing Projecting fear – Fell in love with a future dream that wasn’t there Don’t live so scared In a moment it’s history so bring it here”

“Certain Things” by Lyves feat. Jalen Santoy

“Hello?” A familiar voice called at your salon door following a brisk knock.

“Who is it?” ____ (Almaty Reader) sang in reply, as she returned from the dressing area of your salon where the chattering of voices rose and fell in various excited pitches.

“Sehun. I’m here to see _____.”

“Ah, i believe she’ll be right there,” she turned to where you sat on the loveseat beside ____ (Barcelona Reader) and nodded her head towards the door as she danced back to her seat.

You covered _____’s (Barcelona’s Reader) shoulders with her robe, patting her hand once before you rose to open the door where Sehun stood against the opposing wall, the tension in his frame seeming to calm once he saw you. “Can we talk for a minute ______?” He asked, though he seemed to insist rather than request your presence. It was the way he gestured, beckoning you from the salon.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured ______ (Barcelona Reader.) She nodded to you giving you an encouraging smile as a slight hush fell over the room at your departure.

You followed Sehun back out into the greeting area where you had originally entered the Hammam and sat on the plush velvet seat he gestured for you to take before pulling out a chair from a neighboring table to face you.

A couple walked by where you sat, giggling as they kissed and struggled to part to their respective dressing areas. Her heels clicking against the floor while the soles of his dress shoes clacked in response.  

“I’ll see you later,” the man warbled in an uninhibited libidinous tone, his hands lingering around her waist.

“Shhh!! Later,” the woman sighed as she detangled herself from him as he kissed her cheek and watched her saunter away.

“I got your message about talking about things. I am open to that. I think we need to decide what we are going to do and if we want this to work.” His tone was assertive though there was a slight hesitation in his eyes as he waited for you to respond. Had he been watching the couple who had appeared just then too?

He hadn’t changed from his black tie suit that he wore throughout The First Supper. He had loosened his tie around his neck and removed his suit jacket to rest folded over his forearm. You still wore your gown, of black floor length chiffon and sequins though you had changed into your slippers, packing your heels into your bag.

He was looking at you warily as if he thought you were going to start in on him right there. He sat with his arms folded against his chest while he waited for you to respond.

But since you had planned for this conversation to take place after witnessing the success of the event, you felt exhausted and exposed, altogether different than what he may have been apprehensive to experience.

Throughout the past year you both had respected each other’s space somehow silently agreeing on an unofficial break.

And while alone, revolving in your own imaginings bogged down with fear and worry, you could remain separate from the eyes and judgement of others.

Whatever projects were requested for you to complete by the board you handled independently in a timely manner. Outside of your projects you remained separate from your board focusing on freelance contracts you acquired since beginning your joint business venture.

You were worried that you were obvious in your attempts to avoid conversation, but soon realized that the rest of your board hurried on their own way, quick to dismiss invitations for further catching up or fellowship.

______ (Berlin Reader) approached you following one board meeting in early Spring when you hadn’t slipped out of the room ahead of everyone else’s departure.

“Dulcet, if you have a moment,” she inquired, coming to sit in front of you on the sleek oblong meeting desk at the satellite office in London that had once been filled with auxiliary staff from both the Berlin and London offices who remotely assisted you  ______ (Colorado Reader,)  ______ (Marseille Reader,) and  ______ (Lyon Reader) who had joined this meeting by phone and Skype, with your current editorial you were compiling featuring achievements and areas of opportunities for your vast enterprise. The editorial would be placed in the mail and sent to intended and potential subscribers who were regular patrons of the Pathcodes enterprise.

You stopped rummaging in your bag to clear away your notes you had brought in for your joint presentation, and looked at her.

She seemed to smile genuinely as she gestured for you to take a seat.

“I just wanted to commend you on what my sources have shared with me you have been working on in your spare time. You have received sterling accolades and in your own right are beginning to grow a solid level of consumer support for yourself. I just wanted to ask you what you planned to do with that,” her head tilted slightly to the side as she came to the end of her statement, signaling that she wanted you to answer. Her hair shimmered as she moved, sleek curtain of perfectly manicured asymmetrical bob.

But you were caught by surprise at the abruptness of her question.

“I always assumed I would continue to work for the enterprise now that it has started. I really enjoy my freelance work and am honored that I am doing so well that they have reached out to let you know. I couldn’t ask for anything more than that, really. I guess...I am not sure what really comes next. I have not thought about it,” you looked away for a brief moment, hearing her “Mhm.”

“Is this because of something going on your personal life? Perhaps between you and Sehun?”

You blushed, your gaze snapping back to her as if bringing her back into focus.

Her expression was not goading you nor was it judging you. It seemed like she just wanted to know.

Your heart thrummed in your throat as you opened your mouth to respond.

“Well I-”

“Excuse me, Miss. Sir Minseok is requesting that you return. Your next meeting has arrived,” the attendant informed her, bowing as he swiftly exited as he had also entered.

Her mouth pressed into a hard firm line at the interruption but she stood and apologized to you that she could not stay longer.

“Our personal relationships outside of our professional lives are our foundation and our comfort. Somehow we have come up with the bright idea to merge the two. So far it seems to be working but sometimes things do fall apart. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do to help, all right?” She asked to which you thanked her and waited until she collected her pea coat and briefcase to begin putting your materials away again until a thought struck you.

“Have you heard anything from  ______ (Barcelona Reader)? I have tried her number for awhile now and I am not getting anything. I just wanted to make sure she was ok,” you called after her just as she had pushed open the tall meeting room door.

Her heels clicked as she ducked her head back in to relay that “when Minseok visited her last, her family requested some privacy for the time being but we have offered a therapeutic package that they are considering. I believe she accepted the surgeries recommended by our physician’s council and they found applicable donors. From what I know she is doing well. She just needs some more time.”

It had taken months since that conversation before you finally got a phone call back from her. But once you reconnected she let you know everything that was going on with her attending occupational therapy and counseling.

Though she was happy to have completed her final academic thesis with the assistance of her aunt, she felt entirely estranged from her university that had once been a place of habitual comfort.

“So many of those people wrote horrible things about me and the people that I consider friends. And for what? Their gossip was all anyone could talk about on the news for days. My family couldn’t go into town much less continue our mariner business without something bringing it up. It was all over the papers. I’m just...glad it’s all over so there’s no reason to go back there now. It’s not worth it.”

She also didn’t plan on attending her program’s graduation but instead wanted to invite you to a small get together she was having with her family later that summer.

She told you about all the arrangements her family was making for the event at their home. Family friends would bring extra tables and lanterns to provide more seating for everyone. Her grandparents were fussing over the menu daily, going back and forth about what items should be made based on who was coming.

“My grandmother wants me to wear this dress she stitched for me. It’s going to be a whole thing,” she sounded very amused at the idea. You weren’t sure if she was amused at their attempts or if she was imagining the particular dress that her grandmother had in mind.

“Either way I’m sure you’re going to be gorgeous. What about wearing two outfits? A suit and then later on a dress? Or vice versa? It is your special night, right?” You suggested as you finished painting your nails, and carefully tucked your phone between your ear and shoulder; blowing hot air from your lips at the finished design.

“Maybe. Ah honestly I’ll probably just wear the dress. My family has been so supportive through all of this. A dress for one night is nothing,” you could hear her shrugging.

She became silent for a moment as if lost in thought.

“I-I...asked Tao to invite both you and Sehun since I talked to him about it first. He’s really excited about all of us getting to spend time together again,” she confessed. “O-of course. Did Sehun say that he would come?” You asked without thinking of how that would sound, your eye catching on the small bottle of rose polish in your clear glass bowl he bought for you. He’d worn the shade during a photo shoot a year before and bought a bottle for you immediately after the shoot saying to you when you opened the small gift bag he’d delivered it to you in that, “the whole time they were painting the color I thought of you. It reminded me of something you would wear.”

“I..? Didn’t you two talk about this? I asked him a week or so ago.” She sounded startled by your question. “I...well. Things have been different-” “What happened?” You heard her shifting in her bed, and hoped you weren’t preventing her from sleeping though she was just an hour ahead. “It’s not really a long story but-” “________ what’s going on? Tao said that you may not come if Sehun comes. Are you two not speaking? What’s the matter?” As she spoke she lowered her voice and you heard the voice of her grandmother call out to her asking whether she was going to sleep. “I’m just talking with a friend grandma. Good night,”  ______ (Barcelona Reader) called back, her voice muffled as if she’d covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “Hello?” “I’m here,” you replied moving from your desk to sit on your bed alongside Rena who snuffled and whined in her sleep at the disturbance your sudden weight on the mattress created. “Sorry,” you whispered to her, petting her belly like she liked. “What happened?” She asked again. You sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I just...I got this weird message-” “From who?” “I don’t recognize the number and I tried to research it but it doesn’t seem to go back to anyone-” “What does this have to do with Sehun and you-” “He’s in the message. The message is about Sehun. They said that he’s not who I think he is...” “Do you still have it?” “Yes it’s here-” “Well can you read what it says to me?” She asked and you froze suddenly afraid for more people to know what you had kept private and hidden even from yourself. “I don’t-” “Is it sensitive? Like he’s exposed or something?” “Well it’s not like that but it’s like that...does that make sense?” You asked, unsure of how much to say or whether you should say anything at all. While you could avoid questions from your family about Sehun and your relationship, with  ______ (Barcelona Reader) who was much closer to him than your own sister it was difficult to decide how to proceed. Your fear of what the message insinuated transformed itself within you. At first viewing you were numb then gradually frightened then eerily suspicious and mistrustful then regretfully lonely and sorry. But you hid yourself from Sehun and all of these thoughts you had because that familiar uncertainty that you thought had been banished at the start of your relationship returned as if it was mocking you for trusting him so soon. And deeper than that you wondered if you were wrong about him and then investigated him amongst his friends and accused him but he was found innocent that you would look just as that girl had who had interrupted your initial board meeting in Colorado all those many months and months ago. You would be no better than that person who had assumed and been found wanting in her assumptions. If you betrayed him to his friends, you could not stay with him and you could not remain friends with the women you’d started to find friendship with. Wasn’t it better to just keep to yourself than cause him harm? But judging from the concerned tone in  ______ (Barcelona Reader) voice, your escalation from fear to suspicion to reserved mournful distance had distorted your image to not only Sehun but the very people you had once hoped to remain close to. “I don’t understand...? Have you asked Sehun about it? What if it’s some weird stalker or something? How long ago did you get this? Have they contacted you again?” She fired question after question interrupting your shamed thoughts. “A while ago. That thought did cross my mind at first but something about it seemed like it was more than that-” “A while ago?! Did you ask Sehun?” She persisted.

“No,” you answered your voice small and ever more ashamed. “Why not?! How could you wait a while and not say anything? What if something happens to him?! What if it’s a threat?! We’re supposed to talk with  ______ (Berlin Reader) before something happens versus after, remember?” She sounded panicked, and you wondered if you should continue this conversation while she was still trying to work on recovery. From what she shared with you the reconstructive surgeries had been graded as miraculously successful by her physicians but she was hesitant to attempt going out into the daylight without protective glasses or coverings over her head. As a result she had begun recognizing a steady growth of anxiety within her at the very mention from her family of journeying anywhere outside the vicinity of their home. Even a brisk afternoon walk to the nearby docks wreaked havoc on her nerves for fear that something more would happen — his friends finishing the retaliations he had begun for instance.

You suddenly felt guilty for wanting to confide in her when she was still trying to heal. She was right. You had been selfish and fearful and stupid. How could you possibly ever say you loved him when you walked away without getting an answer? How could you betray him like that? How could you not even try to protect him when he would have done everything in his power to protect you?

“I... ______ (Barcelona Reader) I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t-” “Why are you sorry? I’m just saying. That’s what we are supposed to do..” “Yea...” you answered trying to keep your focus on Rena instead of the memory you were both referencing. “_____ what’s wrong? Did he say something to you? Did he hurt you?” The panic in her voice became ever more palpable. “No. No Sehun would never hurt me. It’s just...I feel afraid to ask him. I am afraid of what the truth is,” you confessed lying down beside Rena who snuffled and whined at your recurring disturbance. She smelled faintly of the bread you’d baked earlier that afternoon and the cinnamon, cedar and cloves of her shampoo — another gift from Sehun.

“I can understand that...the truth can be shocking. But living in the dark is terrifying because at any time the truth can appear and if you’re not ready for it then...is it that bad? Oh poor Sehun,”   ______ (Barcelona Reader) sounded tearful as she considered your concerns. “I don’t know what to do...” you gulped, feeling fresh waves of regret and embarrassment wash over you.

“But you don’t trust him? You don’t trust him to tell you the truth?” “I don’t know. What if he doesn’t?” “But what if he does? What if someone is trying to hurt him and because you don’t tell him he can’t protect himself,” the panic in her voice was rising again, unbidden.

“If you won’t explain it to me then you have to tell him. Promise me,” she said after you failed to respond. You were turned away from your upturned phone, sobbing soundlessly into your pillow. “You have to have courage, ________. Have courage for Sehun and tell him the truth so that he can be protected. I...what if something bad happens to him because you don’t tell him the truth? What then? Could you be ok with that?” She went on. “No I couldn’t. I couldn’t stomach that. I don’t want anything to happen to him-” “Then why don’t you say something? That’s not fair to Sehun that you’re judging him like that-”

“What if I can’t help him? What if this thing he is accused of is real? What...we have been together all this time and how could I not have noticed? Could he have kept it from me? It just doesn’t seem possible? We spent almost every moment together? I-”

“I understand being afraid to think that someone would lie to you about who they are but you didn’t even ask him, _______. So how do you really know?”

You ended the conversation after that with  ______ (Barcelona Reader) saying that it was up to you to decide what to do.

In your heart you knew that you had denied him the benefit of the doubt and had denied him that from the beginning.

“You’re always looking for a way out,” you whispered into your pillow.

But you picked up your phone and texted him just before falling asleep.

“After our New Year's Event, let’s talk. I don’t want to fight. I just want to talk.”

When you woke in the morning, the text was still unread.

——————

“I would like that. When you didn’t answer my message I thought that maybe you didn’t want to talk. I would understand that since...the way I acted was just…” you made a nonsensical gesture and took a deep breath before looking him in the eyes.

He watched you, unfazed. Waiting.

“If we could choose a neutral place I think that would be a good idea. Wh-what do you think?” You asked unnerved by his watchful silence.

He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, nodding as he gave you a slight diplomatic smile.

“That sounds good to me _______. I look forward to talking. I think we may need a break from this though,” he said gesturing to your surroundings but you knew he meant the business as a whole.

“I think no matter what we decide between us that we need a break for at least a couple months from all this. That way...no matter what we decide we can either choose to move forward with this or not,” he said, folding his hands together as he braced his forearms against his knees as he looked at you, searching your eyes for your response.

You nodded, feeling yourself tearing up as he watched you.

“I don’t...I don’t deserve you,” you whispered, wiping your tears away before they fell.

He surprised you by reaching out to you, extending his arm with a handkerchief in hand.

“Don’t say that. Things happen sometimes _______. We’ll talk later ok? It’s going to be ok,” he said as you took the handkerchief and dabbed at your eyes and hesitated on whether to give the handkerchief back.

“You can keep it, if you want,” he said as you both stood and he walked you to the place where that couple had briefly stood just moments ago.

“I’ll see you later then,” he said walking backwards without taking his eyes from you before he turned to head down the hall.

You watched him still as he went, and thought that he seemed taller now than he did when you first walked out to talk together.

I don’t deserve you because I am a coward, you chided yourself bitterly as you walked down the hall to return to your salon.

____________

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You heard yourself asking  ______ (Berlin Reader) where she stood amongst  ______ (Lyon Reader,)  ______ (Almaty Reader,) and  ______ (Arizona Reader.)

She turned at the sound of your voice, and when she found you there she looked a mixture of both concerned and doubtfully curious.

Was it something in your nervous expression?

“Me? Of course…” she gestured for you to follow her into the black SUV she shared with Minseok and you climbed in behind her after one of her attendants opened the door for the two of you and closed it before standing guard outside.

The air conditioning hummed softly as an upbeat hip hop tune bumped in its lower bass tones.

You took a calm breath as you told her what you came to say.

“Some time ago you asked me what I wanted to do now that I have accomplished what I have here. And at the time I did not have an answer for you and I still do not,” perhaps you were self consciously misconstruing how disappointed she looked in your response.

“After this retreat, I realize how much I have come away from what I was when we started this business. I am not sure why I feel so lost or if I always was lost and am now just realizing it. I think part of it is because of my personal relationship...and I want to try to figure that out,” you went on and saw that she intended to speak.

“So what you are trying to say is…”

“That Sehun and I are going to take a break. We need to. I am not sure if that is something that we can do but it is something that we want to do. I believe he spoke with Minseok already and I wanted to talk with you and tell you myself,” you finished your statement and she nodded her head as if that is exactly what she expected you would say.

“I cannot promise you that there will be work for both or either of you when you return. We have to fill those positions immediately since you are integral members. I can allow a brief month’s absence but even that is too lenient. You have been very quiet for most of our trip and I have been watching that. I am not sure whether you intend to stay as much as Sehun intends to stay. I know he may feel a strongly loyalty to Minseok than you do to us and I understand where that comes from. That is why it was so important for you to participate in this retreat. Do you understand how you looked? Do you understand how it will look for you to walk away after playing nursemaid to  ______ (Barcelona Reader) when I could have hired a nurse for her if that was necessary? She would not have been cleared by our physician’s council to proceed in our enterprise if she needed more time. Even  ______ (Barcelona Reader) is ready, so what excuse and time do you really need, ______?”  ______ (Berlin Reader) asked, her gaze icy as she measured you.

You felt your heart sinking as she waited for you.

“Don’t misunderstand me and think I am a cruel and heartless woman. I really am not. I promise you. I understand that love is all consuming and confusing and thrilling. I understand that we are all at one point young, impressionable, passionate, idealistic and hopeful. I understand that things change. But what you must come back to is who you are and what you want to do with your life. That’s what we talked about and that’s where we are transitioning next. There is no reason for you to lose out on this opportunity because of what this relationship may or may not turn out to be. Your work is valued and your contributions have been instrumental in our success. I want you to recognize that and start acting like it, _______,” her tone was no louder than the hum of the air conditioner but it sent a chill through you akin to only what your elder sister had at one time or another.

“I…” You gulped as tears sprung from your eyes as if of their own will at her words.

“Go to him and resolve it so you can move on. Something is eating you alive and you are just lying there watching it happen to you instead of getting up and doing something about it. The girl I met in Colorado was not like that but the woman I am looking at now is not even aware of herself. I have no right to your personal information but at the same time because we are in business together and our lives affect each other, I have to be tenacious and territorial when someone does not realize that they are steadily becoming dead weight,” her words were everything  ______ (Barcelona Reader) had warned you that you would incur if you did not go to  ______ (Berlin Reader) first as you all were meant to do.

Some part of you was admittedly angry that she was so callously blunt but knew better than to take her criticism as her intention to ruthlessly destroy your sense of self worth. She meant to and intended to claw from you the weighing cloak of self doubt and fear that clouded your judgement and twisted at your heart, mellowing the love you had thrived on once upon time and gutting you of your will to fight for what was yours.

LYON | PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT II. “a castle of glass”

Length - 2,585

Mood - wrathful, intemperate

Pairing - Baekhyun x Reader

Warning - language

“Ever since the first time I laid eyes on you I saw the truth No questions just proof They may talk, but I ain't hear a thing they said about you

Ever since the first time we laid Everybody want details, but don't say nothin' I won't say nothin' if you don't say nothin' Cause this is between us Yeah we gon' fight But I'mma love you till it's alright Ain't gon' find these answers outside Boy we don't need nobody's advice Give me a shoulder to cry on And I'll be alright I'll be the one you rely on This love Ain't none of your friends business Ain't none of my friends business It's ours, all ours, nobody else's”

“Business” by Teyana Taylor

____________

“Travel safely, see you soon,” you said to both ____ (Almaty Reader) and ____ (Arizona OG Reader), kissing each of their cheeks in a parting greeting.

“It was such a pleasure to see you again,” ____ (Arizona OG Reader) smiled elegantly as she reached to embrace you.

“Likewise,” you nodded to her as ____ (Almaty Reader) reached to embrace you as well.

“We probably want to organize a conference call within the next two weeks,” ____ (Berlin Reader) stated as she joined your parting circle, bristling at the chill of the wintry air that whipped around you.

The voices of your broader band were momentarily subdued by the gust of wind that had you all pulling your collars closed around your necks.

“Between-” you began eyeing ____ (Berlin Reader) questioningly.

“Well following our conversation yesterday probably just us ladies as a separate conference. A biweekly or even monthly check-in should suffice,” she said, pondering the subject before answering.

“Grand. Well we’ll talk later then,” you agreed as Baekhyun and Minseok approached.

“Ladies,” Minseok beamed at you all, missing ____’s (Berlin Reader) raised eyebrow.

“We’ll be off then. Bye everyone,” Jongin waved, ____’s (London Reader) hand in his as he turned to walk away. When you caught her eye again she raised her hand and demurely waved, her cheeks rosy when Jongin turned to tell her something as they continued into the airport.

Baekhyun came to your side, humbly taking your bag you’d set beside your feet as you said your goodbyes.

“I’ll get our boarding passes,” he said aloud in your direction, hurrying inside.

“Are you flying into Arizona still or-”

“I am going to spend a weekend with ____ (Almaty Reader), and then I’ll head back. MQ said he’ll meet you there before he goes out of town,” ____ (Arizona OG Reader) revealed which seemed to be a surprise to Chanyeol.

“Oh...I’ll see you then. Safe travels ladies,” he stepped back from ____ (Arizona OG Reader) who had only turned over her shoulder to address Chanyeol’s concern. You all nodded to him as he went past following Baekhyun who waited for him within the sliding doors.

You caught the look on his face as he watched you standing there before he knew that you were watching him, and quickly masked it with a pleasant smile before he too turned away.

____ (Almaty Reader) pulled ____ (Arizona OG Reader) along after Chanyeol left, hooking an arm through the crook of hers as they carried on conspiratorially.

“Can’t they do anything without us babysitting?” You caught them whispering before they walked out of earshot.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” a sudden voice asked just beside you where ____ (Berlin Reader) also stood.

____ (Edinburgh Reader) had stayed behind while Sehun had gone in earlier with Kyungsoo and ____ (Colorado Reader) as they checked in and gathered their boarding tickets.

Since had ____ (Barcelona Reader) gone ahead with Tao back home to Barcelona she was alone in front of you all now, and very obviously uneasy.

“Me? Yes of course,” ____ (Berlin Reader) turned to her, gesturing for her to follow into the black SUV bearing Minseok’s trademark crest.

“Thank you as always for your hospitality, Minseok. Until next time,” you said cheerily, reaching a gloved hand out to him which he took and held in both of his, the light in his eyes flashing.

“Certainly. I hope to see you and Baekhyun and Yun Hee soon. Have you decided on a theme for her birthday party this year? As soon as you know please let me know so that I can plan her gift.” You were already modestly refusing his kindness as soon as the words passed his lips but he shook his head at you.

“Baekhyun is my family. And now you are part of his family. And now that family has extended to Yun Hee. If there is anything I can do, it is to take care of my family,” his smile remained sincere as he held your gaze but you had a prickling suspicion that you were not the only one who had revealed what you both had been keeping private.

“Baekhyun and I are so grateful to you Minseok. I could never thank you enough for how much you have blessed our family,” you reached forward to hug him and he held you close.

“He does love you, and I know you know that. No matter what happens, I hope that the both of you can be happy,” he spoke in deliberate muted tones and as he released you, you turned to see Baekhyun holding up the boarding tickets.

Your eyes narrowed at the way you could tell that he was gauging the result of your conversation.

His smile was pleasant, but it was the way his eyes cautiously lingered on you.

You were fuming.

___________

“It’s good to be home, jagi,” he tried meekly, looking at you through the rear view mirror where you’d sat with Yun Hee. After arriving at the airport you parted with ____ (Marseille Reader) who was traveling alone since Junmyeon had left abruptly following your New Year's event.

“Take it easy,” she muttered after a kiss to your cheek where you sent her off in her taxi.

Though you composed your fury at Minseok’s classy but brash attempt to contain you, and remained cordial to Baekhyun, you were seething by the time you were in French air.

You allowed him to drive to your mother’s house where you picked up a sleepy Yun Hee. “We colored for hours today. She was so excited to see you both but tired herself out too early.”

You listened, trying to calm your breathing as Baekhyun moved past you to pick her up.

“Darling?” Your mother asked, her tone apprehensive but you swallowed back the grit between your teeth and said your goodbyes.

Alone now and closer to home, your fury was piping white hot.

Ticking.

“If you want, I could-”

“I’m going to put Yun Hee to bed and then I’m going to the office,” you said, opening your door and hurrying to Yun Hee’s side. You opened the car door carefully, unbuckling her car seat so that you could bring her upstairs, leaving your purse and luggage in the car.

Your staff greeted you as you approached, standing clear of you as you went down the hall.

You heard a clatter of bags and buckles drop to the floor the moment after you’d reached Yun Hee’s door.

She stirred in your arms as you shifted her so that you could open the door.

“Shh shh mon petit,” you whispered, kissing her brow as you hurried inside.

You could see that your mother had given her her bath, washed her hair and brushed it.

You laid her in her crib bed, pulling off her shoes and socks, gently removing her jacket, and sweatpants.

She stirred at the sound of her door opening but you continued your task.

“Going to the office already? Jagi, let’s rest now. You don’t have to go in-”

You turned to look at him, a tempered glare set in your eyes.

He stood dumbfounded, unmoving as you turned to finish tucking your daughter in.

“Sleep well my baby,” you kissed her again gesturing for Baekhyun to do the same.

His stupor melted before he did as you asked, “sleep well my baby,” in an uncharacteristic stricken tone.

You headed to your bedroom, stripping as soon as you hit the door.

In your private wing, you knew based on past trials, that no one could hear how loud you could be. You wondered now whether that muted structural design was purposeful, and mockingly laughed aloud at the thought.

“Why are you going in now jagi?” He asked, following you into the room and closing the door to your wing noiselessly.

“Can you move please? I need to shower,” you asked icily breezing past him as he let you go in.

“Jagi, please. Why are you going in now?” He asked again, the whine in his voice rising.

You knew that as his voice rose he was coming closer to his breaking point. And even with that thought in the back of your mind, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Baekhyun, can you give me a moment please? I want to shower quickly and head in. We’ve been gone for a couple days now and I don’t want to get behind again. We do need to pay bills. We can’t rely on Minseok for everything,” you sighed dismissively as you turned the knob to your shower, sighing again as the jets pulsed against your bare skin whisking away the grime of recycled stuffy air and sweat.

You heard him retreat from the bathroom and turned to see whether he left the door open, which he had.

You took your time to wash your hair and towel off before you began your hair care routine.

Usually Baekhyun volunteered to help you with this part. He thoroughly enjoyed every opportunity that he had to touch you and since you had moved in together he had been fascinated with touching your hair in its slick wet and thick dry state and feeling the difference in your curls.

But he remained in your bedroom, waiting futilely.

After blow drying your hair, and applying lotion to your body you marched into the bedroom, nude, to find clean underwear and a bra.

He watched you as you walked around him, his expression pained.

“Don’t stay there tonight, jagi,” he spoke in sotto voce.

You looked at him in the mirror above your drawer after pulling on a clean pair of underwear.

“Excuse me?” You asked, turning to look at him where he held his head down.

He took a steady breath before looking up at you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his sniffles to a minimum.

You could hear his panic now. It was getting harder and harder for him to hold it back. And though some small part of you knew it was cruel, you laughed.

“How dare you tell Minseok to talk to me?! I mean that was just ridiculous. You’re going to speak to me through your friends now?” You challenged, seeing the panicked sweat beginning to break across his forehead. His eyes searched the floor as he thought of a response.

“Jagi he’s just...he’s my friend and I was worried and the guys were just-”

“They were just what Baekhyun? Who the fuck does he think he is telling me to mind and obey. We are engaged but that doesn’t mean-”

“He didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure he just-”

“Well tell me how he meant it then since I don’t know. What does he mean talking to me as if I’m supposed to do exactly as he says?! I don’t owe him anything but maybe you do since he paid for the roof over this house. In that case we owe Junmyeon too for taking care of us,” you snapped, throwing your hoop earrings down on top of the drawer before rising to find a fresh pair of jeans and top in your closet.

“That isn’t fair-”

“Oh that isn’t fair? Now we want to talk about what’s fair,” you snorted, pulling on your jeans and your tank top, snatching your Supreme hoodie from it’s hangar and your heeled boots from its rack.

You pulled a roll of socks from your drawer as you exited the walk in closet, hopping into them before sitting at the foot of your bed.

Baekhyun’s breathing was silent as he waited on the bed while you zipped up your boots, and hoodie.

“You have no right to tell me where to go and neither does he. If I need space Baekhyun then you should respect that,” you said, rising from where you sat to head towards the door.

Baekhyun rose quickly, shutting the door as you opened it, his hands trembling as he dropped them to his sides.

“Don’t go jagi. You shouldn’t drive like this,” he protested, daring to meet your glaring eyes with his reddened ones.

“There’s nothing wrong with me-”

“But there’s something wrong with us. Don’t leave. I don’t want to keep doing this. I don’t want to keep waiting-”

“Waiting for what? What are you waiting for? You could just say it Baekhyun. Say it,” you dared him, stepping back from the door with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Do you want to leave me, jagi?” He asked, stuttering through the sentence as a sob threatened to split his voice.

You stood unwavering, growing more and more exasperated with every sniffle you heard.

“Baekhyun I am going to scream if I can’t get out of this room-”

“Then scream at me. Just do it, jagi. But don’t leave me. Don’t go jagi please,” he begged you, coughing back sobs as you stared him down.

“Baekhyun I can’t do this with you right now. Let me go,” you asserted moving towards the door.

But he stepped forward, blocking the doorway, refusing to move out of your way.

“Jagi-”

“Baekhyun-”

“Don’t-”

“Let me go!” You screamed moving towards the door where he held it closed.

You pushed against him, hearing the door rattle as you struggled with each other.

“Stop it,” he begged you as you pushed away from him where he tried to hold you against his chest.

“Baekhyun let me go!” You cried out, but he held you there with your back against his chest, crying into your hair as you both slumped to the floor.

“Baekhyun...let me go…” your fury imploded as you screamed again, pushing at his arms that he held tight around your waist.

“No,” he protested.

“Let me go right now!” You screamed again, struggling to lift his arms from you.

“Baekhyun!” You screamed louder.

“Jagi stop, please stop. Stop,” he moaned plaintively, but you persisted.

“Baekhyun let me go! Let me go now! Right now!” You screamed hoarsely, struggling to turn in his arms to break his grasp.

He hiccuped, his grasp around your waist loosening for a second.

You took your chance, moving quickly to your feet.

But he was right on your heels, slamming the door closed just as you opened it.

“Baekhyun get away from me! Get away!” You rasped, turning to hit his chest, trying with all your might to push him back so you could get out of the door.

“No!” He choked out, as he grabbed your wrists.

“Just talk to me, jagi. Talk to me,” he pleaded, willing you to look up at him.

You were unaware of how heavily and erratically you were breathing, until you looked into his eyes and saw yourself reflected in his irises.

Your tamed hair was wild about your face, curls pasted with sweat against your forehead, your clean top and hoodie now sweat stained and disheveled.

You glowered at him, feeling a trembling sob rising up in him as he held you, waiting.

“Yes I want to leave you. I want space. I need to think. Baekhyun please let me go. Please,” you stated, closing your eyes.  

And he released you immediately.

“I...I’m sorry jagi. I’m sorry…” he whimpered, taking a step back from you.

You heard him descend to the floor in a slump as deeper sobs and gasps for air passed through him.

You turned to the door, taking and turning the handle in your suddenly shaking hands, feeling your resolve weaken as the door opened.

“______ I...I’m sorry,” he sputtered again, coughing.

You turned to look at him where he was slumped over on the floor, his hand gripping his chest as he took successive gasping breaths.

BARCELONA | PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. “The Sea” Length - 2,922 Mood - Despondent, Yearning Pairing - Tao x Reader “Afterwards, I paused and watched the sea and the sunset I found that this world is as beautiful as you say it is The you and I that left The vacations that we've had Right now, can I hug you one more time? I want to thank the you from before for giving me different outlooks towards life ” “19” by Tao

_____________________

Days were spent memorizing scents. Textures. Sounds. Taste.

The fluttering and trilling of a distant woodlark.

The crash and drag of the churning ocean tides against the ragged rocks and beaten sand just beyond your window.

The tolling of the chapel bell.

The chattering of children as they zoomed by on ringing bikes.

The click clack of so many people coming and going.

The lonesome whistling of the train in old town.

The smell of lavender soap on your grandmother’s hands as she returned to dress your bandages.

Her kiss at your brow while her weathered palms cupped your tearful cheeks as she whispered, “mi querida, dulce _____. Descansa ahora.”

She would gently hold your wrists down before leaving, reminding you through gesture alone to not scratch away at the fresh bandages she’d wound tightly around your skull, protecting your healing corneas and eyelids.

Days passed listening to your aunt read your school materials to you that had been mailed upon your request by your academic advisor. You refused to attempt reading on your own, doubting your vision could have been restored as the physicians claimed.

“____ no quiere ver a nadie en este momento. Querida necesita descansar,” your aunt would murmur into the phone outside your closed door.

You did not wonder who intended to visit.

In your life, you had never wanted the solace you faced now, but for every moment that passed since the terror that had been witnessing for the last time the feral snarling grimace of someone you had once been so fond of, you were grateful for the reprieve. You treasured the distance you could keep without having to make excuses for it.

There were whispers at night from your grandparents, and aunts and uncles and cousins. Tearful conferences arguing about whether to pursue charges on your behalf since you would not discuss the case further with them.

You briefly remembered waking up in your hospital bed, screaming as if your eyes were still burning and vomiting at the smell of rotting flesh, startling your family who waited for you to rouse from extensive recurring reconstructive surgeries.

“Este hombre dice que pagará por ello, mi ____. Querida, hay alguien que quiere ayudarte a ti y a nuestra familia. No podemos costear sus cirugías y lamentamos. Pero él quiere hacerte justicia. Por favor, mi querida,” your uncles pleaded.

In the end, your grandmother made the choice as you knew she would.

She answered his call, and invited them to your house after allowing you a prescribed sedative earlier that morning.

“We are thankful to you, Sir. Please. She is all that we have. It has been difficult for us to believe this could happen to her. On our own, we can do so much but with help there is more that we can do,” you could hear her huffing as she and your grandfather bent to their knees and each grasped at his hands. You knew your uncles were biting back their pride.

“Please. This is something we are more than willing to help with. Again we deeply, and sincerely apologize that while in our care ______ was hurt to the extreme that it happened. What help we can offer can never undo what happened, but we will take special care of her from now on with your permission.”

Despite the fog of your sleep aids you could remember the smell of them after they had gone. You could discern the remnants of her sweet, airy, and his subtle smoldering scents dissipating amongst the heated conversation within the kitchen below as your grandmother prepared the family’s evening meal of fideuà.

“We don’t have to wait for the court. We can have our revenge,” your uncles would bluster.

“And then what would happen? It’s already in the news. Let’s not take it further,” your aunts would caution.

“Why do we have to stop? We are her family,” your grandfather roared.

“Where is he now when she needs him…” your cousins questioned.

“Where he had always been…” your uncles murmured derisively.

They quieted at the shushing of your grandmother and you heard the stairs creak at her weight as she climbed to your bedroom, the savory mixture of fire roasted tomato, starchy pasta and fresh seafood inspiring yearning gurgles in your stomach.

“Querida,” she would say upon entering your room and you could see the smile in her voice that was only for you.

She set the tray on your desk before rushing to help you sit up in bed, propping you up with multiple pillows.

“Ahora querida, ¿ves lo que hice para ti? Ven a comer,” she would breathe before blowing on the spoon she brought to your lips. She would wrap your hand around her hand after your first bite, and place hers over yours, guiding you up and down at your urging.

You felt a familiar tugging at your throat as a lump of unshed tears threatened to overcome you.

You bit it back as she fed you, pausing to wipe your mouth, again placing the napkin where she meant to clean you and then replacing her hand with yours to allow you to finish the action, before she prepared the next bite.

“Querida, aquí hay un poco de agua,” she would say as she brought your left hand down to the cup on the tray resting on your lap. You shivered at the difference of temperature of firm warmth in her hands and the cold resolve of the icy glass but held on to bring the glass up higher to your face until she paused to put the straw between your lips.

When you were full, she cleared the tray away, her weight lifting clear and away from where you rested day in and day out.

“Abuela, no me dejes, por favor. Por favor,” you choked out, whimpering at how laborious it somehow was to speak again.

“Querida, querida. Shhh shhhh no no,” she cried out, leaving the tray and empty dishes on your desk with a clatter, her bare feet thumping against the wooden floor as she returned to you, wrapping her arms around you though she was mindful of avoiding your bandages.

“Quiero ver, quiero ver. Estoy asustado. Quiero que todo vuelva a ser como era,” your heart exclaimed, pumping out its forlorn declaration within your grandmother’s embrace.

But what your grandmother heard instead was your tentative, “¿donde esta mi padre?”

She waited a beat, smoothing your hair from your face, swaying as she hummed a familiar church hymn.

“Él sabe,” she muttered against your forehead, kissing you once again.

You snuggled deeper into her embrace, waiting though you already knew the story.

Your father had always been an innovative, amicable man serving his centuries old marine family well from the time he started learning the trade as a young child. He had never met a stranger and had never known an enemy. What he lacked in academic triumph he exceeded in his street smarts and business savvy.

But for all that he acquired for his family, and doted on them, he was still naive to the true nature of the world.

Your sunny, docile father was interested in furthering the potential reach of the family business and fearlessly approached a neighboring Catalan mariner company despite the protestations of his family. He braved the seas, confident in his quest and the purpose of his business venture. And upon reaching land, he was struck by the fair island beauty of the businessman’s daughter for he hadn’t been prepared for her.

She watched him as he delivered his speech, her eyes cutting between her father and brothers and the main from the small Eastern Barcelona mariner company. Despite the odds, he prevailed as if it was destined to be and as promised he performed the duties as chosen delegate of his family, sharing the profits and reaping the benefits. Benefits of rising early and casting himself into the throes of the tide promised not only a hearty catch but a brief moment to gaze upon the beauty of that fair subdued lady. Gazes returned and transformed into sweet notions and dreams and love.

Hushed, hurried, hopeful love.

Of this love you were conceived and cherished.

Of this love the two dreamers hoped above all that was real in the chance to see their secret embraced.

But your Catalan grandparents refused to acknowledge their love, forbidding their marriage, claiming instead that they would disown her, turning her belongings out into the ocean that had carried your father into her arms.

Seeing the fear and confusion on their beloved daughter’s face, they relented for a brief moment.

And during that brief moment of innocent, blissful plans made by your equally innocent parents, age old political tensions resurged restricting the abilities and freedom of your mother's Catalan family, a blow that resolutely doomed their loving union to fail.

On the day of her departure, her family pulled her aside while your father waited at the pier, that she would be allowed to be received into the home of her lover to bear her child but she would never see you grow up. She would be given two weeks time and then would return to never again see either of you.

You never knew if she was angry or if she cried while she was here with your father and your family because no one said so. Instead everyone talked about the way she smiled, the way she laughed, they way she sang, the way she danced through her labor pains, the way your father looked after her, and the way he held her and nursed her during her labor as he had promised right alongside his mother and sisters and sisters-in-law.

Even after you were born, your mother remained bright and cheerful, singing to you as she nursed, talking to you throughout the day as she cooked, reading to you, and praying over you.

It was only on the night of her departure when your father was packing his bag to return with you both to spend two weeks with her family in return as he had thought he had promised, that your mother stopped him at the door where her father and brothers waited and told him the truth, tearful only in front of him.

She was promised to another man in order to protect the family business and to protect him, her lover and her daughter, from financial ruin. If she agreed to marry this man, her family would not harm her lover and her child. The contract would be dissolved, and they would part amicably.

Your father listened and grieved where he stood, watching her as she was carried away from him, her doleful eyes on him as she screamed out begging for more time, her cries disturbing the midnight air. He watched, his posture slack until it seemed that she was swallowed by the ocean and gone from him and you forever.

He dissolved at the open front door, evaporating into the misty night air, becoming a phantom not only to his family, but to you his daughter. A phantom who existed only on the high seas.

You startled awake at the scent of burning tobacco in the air, turning your head towards your door as you would habitually do though you knew he was already gone.

Days were spent remembering scents, stories, sights.

Days were spent waiting for comfort.

“Papa…?”

You whimpered despite what you knew to be true.

You waited for her too though you remembered in a very deliberate out of body way their positions in the sand as if you were playing chess upon your downstairs dining room floor with your cousins goading you on to challenge your grandfather.

You remembered who was close.

You remembered who had run and who had only watched.

You remembered the hospital though you frantically tried to forget at first.

You remembered _________ (Edinburgh Reader) riding in the ambulance with you.

You remembered her telling you to hang on, and telling you that she was here. That Tao had gone ahead in the first ambulance but that everything was ok.

You remembered Tao’s shouts.

You remembered that because he had forced you back that he been doused across his left arm and shoulder.

You remembered the searing pain coursing through your body as you scrambled and fought the water that you fallen into.

You remembered hearing grunting and punches landing. Screaming. Shouting. Running. Sirens. Curses.

“You crazy fuck!”

“Stop Tao! Stop!”

You remembered someone’s burning flesh and the singeing of your nose. You remembered his scent of clove soap, sun rays and cinnamon toothpaste.

You remembered his voice. “I got her. I got her. Just tell them to come this way!”

“Oh dear God. God, please hurry! We are here!” _______ (Berlin Reader) exclaimed, dropping composure completely.

You remembered them. You remembered all but her.

And somewhere in your heart you knew how pitiful you were then.

Safe from those memories now, and progressing forward in the days that came after the sudden appearance and disappearance of your father, your family came to speak with you about their offer.

“You can begin therapy now and we will return to see your doctor for the next assessment.”

“Now that we have completed your research and your paper that can be submitted to your advisor.”

“They are offering you a job now that your graduation is secured.”

You listened, orienting yourself from where each voice of your family emanated, considering all that they advised.

You knew that their advisements were not suggestions and that they were merely informing you of the plan that had been decided.

You attended the physician appointments, grateful to feel the fresh air on your skin, and to smell the proximity of the salted water of your ocean.

Arranged for you were potential cosmetic and transplant surgeries if approved by your physician and yourself, payments were already secured.

You were allowed time to consider as you proceeded with occupational therapy.

And as you re-entered society you waited, doubtful of whether you knew who you truly waited for.

Gradually you allowed phone calls, and texts, turning on the phone you had requested was shut down.

Your cousins were more than happy to help you with reading through and discarding messages and voicemails.

You were afraid to ask who appeared in your notifications most often though they told you anyway.

“There are a lot of foreign numbers here, ______”

“And foreign names…? Is it Toe?”

Giggles.

“Why does your face look like that?”

“You’re blushing!”

“Who is...______ (Edinburgh Reader)?”

“I can’t say some of these names!”

Suddenly your phone chimed.

“It’s ringing!” They sang holding the phone out to you.

“Press the talk button!” They cheered, obtuse to your bewildered expression.

“Hello? ________? Are you there?” Tao asked.

The youngest of your cousins grasped your hands and placed the phone there.

“Put it on speaker!” One of the boys pushed past, bumping against your bed until he pressed the button that raised the volume of Tao’s voice so he could be heard.

He called out to you again, sounding nervous, “______?”

“Privacy! Move!” One of the your younger girl cousins announced corralling your cousins out the door.

Alone together again you were frightened.

But he waited.

“_______?”

You pressed the screen frantically until you heard the electronic click, exhaling at the silence that greeted you.

You slid under your covers, pushing the pillows to the floor.

And immediately, you regretted your cowardice.

You sat up, slightly lightheaded at the rush to your head.

You called downstairs and heard your cousins running back up the stairs at the sound of your voice to help you.

“Did he hang up?”

“Did you want to try again?”

And again they went through your contacts until they found his number again.

“H-hello?” You rasped at the sound of his voice.

BERLIN || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. - Part II -“Benign”

Length - 5,971

Mood - Interdependent, Augmented

Pairing - Minseok x Reader

“Instead of becoming someone’s “Yes man”

I’ll open the path myself, building my own world

Getting stronger every time I recover from injuries

Ain’t nobody can tell me what to do

Anytime we connect with other people

Our own world extends more

Spread the words and spread the love

If you’re satisfied, don’t turn around

Just continue believing like this”

“KING AND QUEEN” by EXO-CBX

______________________________

“That was a horribly solemn affair. We looked like we were going to a funeral, not a New Years Eve blowout,” _______ (Marseille Reader) snorted as she tied up her hair into a knot atop her head.

_______ (Lyon Reader) rolled her eyes, as she removed her earrings where she sat at the vanity, and placed them in the velvet pouch she had brought. She like all of you had changed from your gowns as soon as you arrived, placing them in their assigned garment bag in the closet provided, and now sat in a perfumed silk rouge red robe.

“Most of the guys wore black, and it was the same uniform suit. So yea, it looked like a funeral,” you chimed in, unafraid to poke fun now that the whole thing was over.

The hum of ambient music piped through the room. Elsewhere within the spa you could hear the trickle of the fountain, and the soft whir of the air conditioning overhead.

The walls of the room were a marbled crystal blue while the floors and doors were coated in a decadent stone gold.

______ (London Reader,) entered the salon then, bundled up in her robes, the door through which you’d heard Jongin’s voice humming a husky “이따보자” before it clicked closed behind her.

She lilted shyly past you all, pulling the collar of her robes higher to close and conceal her neck, and mouth as she went, as if she could hide the puffy kiss-bruised lips she was pressing together, and the scarlet blush creeping up her neck.

_______ (Almaty Reader) peered over the notes in the slim black notebook she had brought to review as she reclined on the earthen chaise, pursing her lips as she watched her go by with a raised freshly sugared eyebrow.

“So adorable,” she mouthed to you, miming a chuckle before ducking behind her notes once again.

The door whisked open as ______ (Colorado Reader) entered.

She gave a small smile as she entered, inclining her head toward you all as she came to sit beside ______ (Lyon Reader) at the vanity, her expression somewhat wistful.

“I can tie your hair up if you’d like?” _____ (Lyon Reader) offered to her, and ______ (Colorado Reader) considered it for a moment, startling at suddenly being addressed.

“I don’t have a hair tie-” She began but ______ (Lyon Reader) held up a tie between her fingers.

______ (Colorado Reader) turned then, whispering “thank you,” to which ______ (Lyon Reader) only shrugged, smiling at her in the mirror once she was finished.

“You’ve always had it together, but honestly becoming a Mom has you scarily prepared for everything,” _______ (Marseille Reader) chuckled as she came to sit beside you on the loveseat where you were sipping the cabbage juice you’d requested, adjusting the snowy white goose feather pillows as she got comfortable .

She eyed the cabbage juice you slowly sipped from once again, before pouring herself a cup of the hearty dark evergreen mixture. The color churned and sloshed as she poured it, hurrying to fill the glass.

You gestured to her to stir it with the straws laid beside the pitcher on the gold platter. She reached down as you instructed, stirring slowly as she watched the contents spin at her urging. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” you said as she took a breath, pinched her nose, and sipped the juice.

She hesitated to swallow for a moment, appearing for a moment to concern spitting it back into the glass but resolutely covered her mouth and swallowed audibly. She shivered as she took a deep breath.

“How is YunHee?” _______ (London Reader) asked as she came from the dressing closet to sit on the opposing loveseat where ________ (Edinburgh Reader) placed her bag before joining Sehun in the hallway to talk.

He had come looking for her as soon as your troupe arrived at Türkisches Hamam Berlin, the premier Turkish Spa in Berlin.

You heard Sehun’s raspy whisper as she opened, and smoothly let the door close behind her, “can we talk for a minute _______ (Edinburgh Reader)?”

_______ (Lyon Reader) had watched her go quietly but you knew that between you both, there were many things left unsaid to the both of them.

But that’s what had inspired this brief pause.

The need to address the things you had all been putting away and hiding from one another, and yourselves.

_______ (Arizona Reader) had been one of the first to change and was also seated beside ______ (Almaty Reader) reviewing the latest catalogue she scheduled for release later this spring in the afterglow of your shared new year celebrations.

The two spoke in unpretentious, languid tones in time, with unhurried plucking of the sitar, to one another as they had since reuniting. It had been some time since you, ______(Almaty Reader,) and ______ (Arizona Reader) all met one another during your collegiate exchange seminar.

It was then in those days that one by one you had introduced one another to one another until this unit, within the passage of significant time, had bloomed into the substantial governing body you were today.

While you had exceeded the dreams of those youthful years, you were still the same snarky troupe.

And you knew by the way they kept their inflection level, even bordering on indifferent that they were discussing their observations of the newest additions to your tighter band.

As well as their opportunities for foolishness.

“Well let’s not all stare at the door until she comes back,” you sighed as a silence settled into the room as everyone awaited ______ (Edinburgh Reader’s) return.

“But we are worried, are we not...I mean they sat beside each other in the planning meetings and rehearsals earlier this week without really looking at each other and talking…? If they did it was very cordial, and unlike them,” (Marseille Reader) whispered between sips of water. She took her time between sips, exhaling hotly as if to slow the effects of brain freeze.

“But still. Let’s give her some privacy all the same. It is awkward enough already,” you advised, eyeing where ______ (Yunnan Reader) sat quietly still, not involved nor separate from the current conversation.

She sat upon the loveseat farthest from you in the oval shaped room, waiting and withdrawn. Her hands periodically shifted the slivers of hair she tucked, and untucked from behind her ear as she took slow, unhurried breaths with her eyes on her own lap. Whenever her phone chimed her hands would spring to action, her fingers flying across the screen before all flurry of activity ceased to begin again.

Yixing had entreated upon her behalf to Minseok, yourself, and ______ (Almaty Reader) to allow her to take part in the preparations for the upcoming winter events a couple of months following her return to her position.

“It’s become harder for us now, Minseok. I don’t know if you can help, but…” Yixing had begun, a definite hesitation in the pace of his words. He had been conferenced in some weeks prior to your planning visit while you, ______ (Almaty Reader) and _______ (Arizona Reader) met in the cafe on Minseok’s private level of Erhabenheit.

Minseok took the rotary dial phone from its speaker phone display after setting down the kettle while you poured cups of tea for everyone, and spoke confidentially into the mouthpiece as he turned his back, “just tell me what you need.”

Needs.

Desires.

Lusts.

What we all need is honesty.

She remained soundless on her loveseat, breaking her resolute posture briefly to reach towards the coffee table in front of her, thumbing through the spa’s slim brochure of packages and the self care tips following the presentation you just received from your tellak though you had already chosen your packages well ahead of this retreat.

You thought maybe it had been difficult for her because of the stairs at the entrance.

Yixing had offered to carry her up the stairs himself so that she wouldn’t strain herself, but she had blanched almost parchment white at that, and accepted his hand instead.

It had taken _______ (Barcelona Reader) some time as well to gain her bearings once staff had escorted you all to your dressing area before you went further into the Hamam.

At the entry she had been gathered into _____ (Edinburgh Reader’s) grasp as Tao let her go to follow the men to their separate dressing room.

_____ (Edinburgh Reader) had helped her to undress to her underwear privately, as everyone had also done, looking after her diligently as any elder sister would. She took care to cover her shoulders in a robe as she sat waiting for her to return, her feet shifting in her sandals.

But _______(Barcelona Reader) had eventually relaxed even without (Edinburgh Reader’s) return as she listened to the murmurings of the women surrounding her. She’d even giggled when _______ (Almaty Reader) scolded you for offering her cabbage juice first instead of water.

“Oh goodness! What are you trying to do to the poor girl? Enough!” She’d exclaimed, pulling the glass from your hands that you had offered in good will to _______ (Barcelona Reader’s) open hands.

And yet ______ (Yunnan Reader) only shyly laughed as if she wasn’t meant to hear the joke.

But if any of the ladies felt burdened by her chilly anxiousness even here within this tempered Hamam, they didn’t let on and focused instead on tying the checked stark white and baby blue peştemals about themselves and one another.

Just as ________ (Colorado Reader) stood to allow ______ (Lyon Reader) to tie her peştemal across her chest, your tellak entered the room with _____ (Edinburgh Reader) on her heels, her eyes misty and downcast.

“Ladies if you’ll follow me? We will now begin,” the tellak inclined her head towards the entrance of your private dressing area which would be locked behind you all in your absence.

____ (Edinburgh Reader) went to ______ (Barcelona Reader’s) side immediately, taking her hand in a familiar clasp as Tao had, intertwining their fingers securely.

The tellak led the way with you in the rear, while you tried without speaking a word to gesture ______ (Yunnan Reader) up further towards the innermost core of the line of ladies.

She acknowledged your gesture, and apologized that she may still need to take her time walking.

You shook your head.

“We have all the time we need here. Please, if you would.”

The tellak led you deeper through the soğukluk, the ornate halls into the Hamam where you would first enter the hararet.

“There is enough room for everyone to lie upon the göbektaşı if you wish? Please take a moment here before we proceed,” the tellak gestured to the raised platform at the center of the white smokey marble domed room where the heat was amplified the closer you moved towards the platform. The steam swirling through the space provided an atmospheric curtain. You wondered if the women around felt a shift in their breathing pace, as if the curtain of steam was pressing upon your chest.

The closer you moved towards the heat of the raised platform, the more unsteady you felt on your feet but you pressed forward where the ladies had gathered and now laid down beside one another.

“Such a breathtaking space,” ______ (London Reader) observed aloud and the throng of you ladies hummed in unison with her as the heat from the göbektaşı seeped into your skin.

It was quiet within the space as you all laid there, everyone careful to remain still so as not to disturb each other.

“We’re still not used to each other or else I guess we would chat more,” _______ (Marseille Reader) chuckled after another minute passed in silence.

“It’s too hot to think,” ______ (Lyon Reader) choked out a weak laugh from her place on the göbektaşı.

“Or even fart...can you imagine a bad smell happening in this room and how rank it would be? Everyone would vomit!” _______ (Almaty Reader) heartily laughed aloud earning nervous giggles and surprised guffaws.

“We’re all piled on here together like sausages roasting so it would be the next worst thing to happen!” ____ (Arizona Reader) snickered.

“I can’t breathe to laugh anymore! Oh my head…” _____ (London Reader sighed) as she struggled to sit up.

“Oh my! Sorry!” ____ (Colorado Reader) called out as ______ (London Reader) rustled beside her.

You sat up just to catch the flush of cherry red spreading across her face as she pulled her checked peştemal back to its original tied position.

“I’m alright! Really! Nothing to get my knickers in a twist over” She blushed even deeper as _____ (Colorado Reader) sat up to apologize.

“...wait what?” ______ (Barcelona Reader) asked aloud suddenly from beside _____ (Edinburgh Reader) whose misty expression broke at the sudden question.

“Now we’re rolling,” ______ (Almaty Reader) laughed aloud amongst the muggy confusion and stuttering laughter as your tellak returned with two additional women flanking her on either side.

“Ladies, it’s good to hear that you’re more relaxed. Let’s begin,” at the close of her statement the staff moved to the sides of the raised platform where you and the ladies sat, your giggles subsiding to humored murmurings as the staff began to soak each of you with warm water, and rose water soap suds.

Between latherings the masseurs would help you each to lie upon the platform to deliver one massage at a time.

The pain of their persistent pressing and smoothing hands, fingers and knuckles was difficult to withstand at first. There were many beside you who moaned aloud at their aggressive, yet therapeutic touch.

Ever in sync, once you finished your lathering and massage, you were shifted in pairs for scrubbing with the hand-knitted washcloths each of you had tucked into the knot of the checked cloth at your chests.

You moaned consistently throughout the scrubbing, startling only when you heard ______ (Marseille Reader) cry out during her cold wash up.

“I’m so sorry! I’m not trying to be dramatic! You did warn me. Sorry,” she apologized to her masseur once she got over the shock, and quieted down to finish her washing.

But the shock was enough to return you all to the familiar comfort you were beginning to share when the masseurs had first entered.

Your tellak waited until everyone had completed their last cycle of washing before announcing that, “you are in no rush to leave. We have refreshments available to you in the salon when you return there to dress. There are additional towels and wraps for all ready to shower as well.”

You all waited until they left the room before gathering the towels and taking turns to shower.

_____ (Barcelona Reader) was shy at first to enter with ______ (Edinburgh Reader.)

“It’s up to you what you’d like to do. I can just walk you through and tell you where everything is. I can wait right outside,” _____ (Edinburgh Reader) spoke to her softly, holding her hand in both of hers.

_______ (Barcelona Reader) nodded, “if you could just show me where everything is. And just...outside is fine. If you stand right outside the curtain. If you don’t mind.”

The rest of you showered one at a time, waiting and politely acknowledging those who were ready to shower until you all were done.

“No one wants to stay right? I want to take a nap I’m so exhausted from all that scrubbing”

“I was nervous for a moment that they were going to start scrubbing elsewhere but then I remembered ______ told us that that does not happen ever.”

“Oh goodness, could you imagine?”

“You thought I was screaming before at the cold water...Junmyeon would have been banging the door down trying to get to me to find out what was going on…”

“I wonder how they’re doing with the bathing”

“How they’re doing or how they’re looking”

*Sputtering*

“I mean, well this is a different cultural experience for me. I’ve never been to a public bath house before”

“Well I think for most of them, visiting a public bath house is a little more natural than it is for some of us.”

“Ah you have a point there”

“So is it just water on the menu?” ______ (Arizona Reader) asked as she entered your salon once again,

“There is that horrid cabbage juice ______ keeps insisting is good for us,” _____ (Almaty Reader) rolled her eyes at your expense, winning laughter even from you.

The voiceless gaps of space you’d waited to see burst upon your entrance at the hamam were filled with effervescent laughter as the ladies dressed again.

______ (Lyon Reader) was again helping _______ (Colorado Reader) with her hair while ______ (Barcelona Reader) helped ________ (Edinburgh Reader) to brush out her hair.

The two girls sat side by side, while ______ (Barcelona Reader) carefully guided her hands, gently fingering through the tendrils of her hair with the small oval detangling brush held poised until she reached the top of ______ (Edinburgh Reader’s) head, and smoothed the hair down again. ______ (Edinburgh Reader) sat patiently, her misty eyes closed for now while ______ (Barcelona Reader) worried over her.

“Another glass of cabbage juice?” ______ (Yunnan Reader) suddenly offered to you, approaching you with the tray the tellak had just delivered while you were preoccupied with dressing and finding a space to lie down while you waited.

“Yes, thank you. I have no idea why everyone thinks it’s so horrible-”

“But we can say that you smell terrible after you drink it. Remember when we came on holiday after a school trip?” _______ (Almaty Reader) eyed you and you threw an unused hand knitted cloth at her head that she dodged.

“So that’s why you brought up the farting before! Ugh! You’re just-”

______ (London Reader) laughed in shock at the final connection she’d made while _______ (Barcelona Reader) dipped into _______ (Edinburgh Reader’s) shoulder where they both giggled softly together.

“We told you that you couldn’t live it down. It’s your fault for ordering that disgusting juice again!” _____ (Almaty Reader) explained through tearful gasps as _______ (Arizona Reader) high fived her.

“Ahem, speaking of healthy...I wanted to gather us all here to talk anyway,” you coughed and cleared your throat as you fanned the flames from your cheeks in between sips of cabbage juice.

“I can’t believe that you can still drink that,” ______ (Arizona Reader) continued but you shooed her comment off.

“Stop. Really,” you said failing to not dissolve into giggles as the rest of the ladies continued to laugh while _____ (Almaty Reader) held her nose as you begun speaking.

_____ (Lyon Reader) and _____ (Colorado Reader) joined you on your loveseat just as ______ (Almaty Reader) whispered “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Oh would you just quit!” You exclaimed tossing your head back as laughter overtook you all again.

_____ (Yunnan Reader) had shakily returned the tray to the center table in front of you all and sat on the loveseat beside _____ (Barcelona Reader) and ______ (Edinburgh Reader) as the two swapped the detangling brush, the three of them vibrating with laughter.

“Healthy living begins with letting it all out though doesn’t it?” _____ (Almaty Reader) quipped once more between gasps and snorts.

Everyone doubled over at that with _______ (London Reader) patting her face dry of tears.

You glared at _____ (Almaty Reader) over everyone’s heads as ______ (Arizona Reader) murmured, “I think we’re ready to start now.”

A cool flourish of air lifted the trim of the curtains at the windows of the salon where the windows were slightly opened.

“Healthy release as ______ (Almaty Reader) brings up is something that’s become much more important in my life recently. I know that Minseok and I don’t really share a lot. We delegate a lot and we share what our plans are but because of some health concerns that have come to light for me….I have to be better about sharing. I have to be better about release. I have to be better about being open and transparent,” the tonal shift wasn’t heavy nor did it harden the light in the open eyes of all the women surrounding you.

If anything, they leaned closer.

“I just want to be more open. I want to be healthy. And because of that I privately messaged you all asking you to bring a single photo to base your vision boards on. I’d like for us to complete them throughout the new year, and display them in our home offices,” you stated, pausing to lean forward to pick up your briefcase from the floor to reveal the small photo envelope you brought with you. As you righted yourself back into your seat, you looked pointedly at everyone and waited for them to go and bring their photo envelopes as well.

They each moved slowly around one another, smiling genuinely at each other as they excused themselves to their separate corners of the oval room before returning together.

You gestured for everyone to open their envelopes and reveal their photos to one another in your circle.

Your eyes caught at the ages represented in their photographs and wondered at all the anecdotes that everyone would share.

“So our topic today is healthy living,” you began waiting for everyone to come to attention once again.

In front of you for everyone to see, you tenderly held a picture of yourself at four years old between your grandfather and grandmother outside their farm home in front of your favorite cream white and pale yellow tulips. Your overalls and apron were smudged with dirt while your grinning grandparents’ cheeks were smudged with dirt from your thin hands.

“Healthy living for me would be being able to go home to see my grandmother more,” you confessed breathily as you looked back into their astonished faces.

“Grandmother…?” you thought you heard someone whisper.

“I was raised by my grandparents following my third birthday when my parents found out that I had leukemia. From what I remember at the time, my family and I did not come from much. We lived in a very, very small rural town built, and maintained by my grandfather and his father and his father before him when my family immigrated to the states. My parents were very young when they married, and were very very devout in their faith. They dreamed of opening a church in our town that could welcome so many blessings to the people who lived there as well as bringing together a community of devout followers. But when my parents found out that I was sick, I think they thought that maybe it was a sign that they were not meant to be parents and instead should follow their missionary dreams,” the admission was no longer shocking to you nor was it painful to hear yourself speak it aloud despite the varying degrees of intimacy within this group of women.

You hadn’t known your parents faces since you were young, and that’s just the way that it had been.

Your father had hoped that your grandfather would erect the church in an identical fervor of devout passion as he built the bridges that led into your town, and City Hall at its center, but your grandfather admitted to you often that he was disappointed that your parents did not treasure you the way they had been treasured as children.

“You’re a fool to leave behind a child. Our children are our future,” you remembered your grandmother recounting to you the few times you’d asked her to retell the story.

“My grandparents decided from then on to raise me, and took me to the research hospital in the next state over where we settled down to live. I remember being in my hospital bed, and when I could stay awake my grandfather would tell me about the world. ‘I want you to know everything there is in this world because one day you will be old enough and strong enough to be part of it. One day you’ll be able to go further than any of us ever dreamed. You will do it, my child.’”

“He read to me often about architecture, and finance, and politics...he taught me everything he possibly could.”

You felt a hitch catching in your throat but you breathed past it.

“In so many ways Minseok reminds me of him, and I told him that when we first met as well back in school. I think that’s one of the things that honestly attracted me to the business. I see it as my opportunity to make my grandfather, and my grandmother proud of me-”

“Will she ever be able to visit you here? Your grandmother?” ______ (Edinburgh Reader) asked suddenly, and you shrugged as you shook your head.

“No, she prefers that I come to visit. I’m not sure that she’s comfortable traveling really long distances from her garden, and from Papa since he’s buried on the farm as well. She’s in great health...I think it’s just too much for her,” you said as ______ (Colorado Reader) took your hand.

“I can really identify with what you said,” she began it seemed before she even realized that she was speaking. Her picture was in her lap face down as she spoke, and ______ (Lyon Reader) picked it up for her, turning it over where the circle could see it.

In her picture was her, and Kyungsoo at what looked like a modern day jazz club. A younger Kyungsoo sat at the poker table while she sat on his lap in a beaded drop waist dress, her arms draped around Kyungsoo’s neck as she bashfully turned into his embrace where he held her securely around the waist against his chest, his smile prouder and brighter than you could ever remember having seen it. It looked like this picture had been saved from years ago when they had first met one another.

“I…” she started, and stopped as she looked at the picture again.

“I have been going to therapy because Kyungsoo and I have been trying to eat well. I have even taken a step back from work. I have done all these things but I still have not been able to have a baby. And that is something that for the life of me, I really want to be able to do. It is just that as Kyungsoo’s wife, as his partner, we have done so much together. Well, we...we got married without our families. We did not do it I guess in a way that a lot of other people would and that already made me feel anxious about our future and then now for me to not able to get pregnant and for us to not be able to be the family that I thought we were going to be...it makes me feel like the healthy life that I thought I was living where you know I am with this man that I love so much...is not healthy at all.”

She looked at the photo held in ______ (Lyon Reader’s) hands, smiling a small smile as she took it into her hands as she let your hands go.

“I love Kyungsoo more than anything. And I just never want to fail him. I never want for him to not be proud of me. I never want to embarrass him…” the ardor with which she spoke told you that she took what she thought of as failure extremely personal.

Throughout this year she admitted that she had isolated herself in her failure.

That it had become so internal, and so personal, so emotional, so painful and so physical.

“I just did not want him to be part of that. I felt like...that would fail him even more to be part of that than I already have,” she breathed out warily.

“He firmly requested that I go to therapy, and I have been for awhile independently. And I feel like there is so much that we need to do. We are here today with everyone, and finally I am really getting to meet all of you. And it is nice to be here. But um...you know I feel like I want more time with my husband. I have taken so much time from us and our relationship because I just could not get out of my spiral. I risked so much and I am realizing that now…” her words were strong as she spoke them, and you felt ______ (Lyon Reader) shift beside her as she reached for her picture that she had placed on the table.

“If I may,” she began, answering the pregnant pause, _______ (Colorado Reader) birthed.

“Just continuing on this thread of health, and what it means to be healthy,” and she turned her photo over to reveal to you all.

It was your dearest YunHee, the princess acknowledged by most of the women sitting beside you.

It was a recent photo taken from her second birthday party. She was posed in her signature tutu upon the floor of her bedroom with her newest friend, Mongryeong, a Welsh corgi recently adopted into their family. YunHee faced her parents’ camera with her chin in her hand smiling with head tilted to the side as Mongryeong sat up beside her, his chin also tilted in the same direction.

“Baekhyun and I….you know I can understand where you all are coming from. My daughter um…” she sniffed as if not expecting the tears pooling in her eyes.

“I...I have had a lot of anxiety about my daughter, and about what’s going to happen to her. What if she never learns how to talk,” and her voice broke on “never.”

“What if she is never able to communicate with me, and tell me ‘maman ma couleur préférée est.’ What if she’s never able to say mom? Who is going to take care of her? Who is going to protect her?”

“I wish that Baekhyun and I could come to an agreement on what we are going to do as parents for our child. We just go back and forth on whether to put her in this therapy or to wait. We have pushed back our wedding date and have not even gone back to our wedding book that his mother, and my mother helped me to make. We have not talked about the wedding. We have not talked about getting married…” she let out a frustrated groan as she wiped more tears away and placed her photo gently down on the table, face up beside yours and ______ (Colorado Reader’s.)

“I am so happy to be here with you all. I am happy for us to get face to face time together. We have been popping in and out of retreats. We have spent so much time focused on our events and our ideas and talking on and on about that that we have not gotten time to truly get to know each other,” she looked around at you all then, and you nodded in encouragement thankful that she was taking you even further forward as spontaneous tears had begun budding in your eyes, and a bothersome welling building in your throat.

“You know...we are not...I’m connected with my mother and everything but I know for some of us we’re far away from our families and so this enterprise for us ladies can be a place where we come together and we create yet again another family and a network and support system. I know for _____ (Colorado Reader) we have been talking back and forth about everything because she was there for me when I was really sick at the hospital and she helped me to take care of my daughter. So we have developed a relationship. I have not been able to form relationships with everyone and,” the look in her eyes said that she wanted to go on and that there was more that she wanted to share but she stopped herself nonetheless.

_______ (Marseille Reader) reached over the table to pat her hand.

“You know sometimes with Baekhyun and I….I love him and we have been together for a long time. We have loved each other for such a long time but we have isolated ourselves in our own little castle and our own little universe. And since it is just us...when you are having issues coming together with the person you have built this beautiful castle with it is miserable...it is horrible,” she exhaled finally shaking her head as she ran her hands along her cheeks where tears had trailed.

Everyone seemed to crouch a little closer together as the waves of release began to break over you all.

“I am...I am really happy to be here too,” _____ (London Reader) started, her breath rustling out of her as she began.

“I have never had a true consistent group of friends. I have had loads of colleagues and classmates, but I am a reserved person for the most part so it only goes so far for me. I have gotten on being in a work environment and interacting with others. I have been really working at it and em…” there was an excited pause as she pulled out her photos.

From the vantage point of it, it seemed that Jongin had caught her by surprise from behind her while they were on an evening walk together. She was looking into the lens over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling and her smile confident as she held Jjangah to her chest while her other hand was in Jongin’s.

The other was Jongin holding her up high, her hands on the tops of his shoulders looking down into his eyes as he gazed up into hers where they stood outside of her new dance and movement therapy program’s building.

“I want to do amazing things and I am so happy to be here and to be amongst all of these ladies. I am gobsmacked, truly. This is who I want to be. I want to be this wicked, brilliant person that I see in so many of you when I look at you. And on top of that, something I am anxious about but I am excited about is my relationship with Jongin…” she grew pinker, and pinker still as she went on.

“I am falling in love with him. But because I do not have that network that you are mentioning now I feel like I am closed off. And _____ (Lyon Reader) has been such a dear and a friend by talking to me and helping me to understand who I want to be as a woman and in a relationship. This is my first time being in utter love with this person and I do think that I love him...I have not told him but I am always trying to figure out whether this is the right relationship for me..or whether I am moving too fast or too slow... “ she looked away at her pictures as ____ (Lyon Reader) gave a knowing glance at the timing of her pause to which _____ (Almaty Reader) squinted in curiosity.

“Jongin is….?”

“Gallant. A dancer. A charming smile, and darling laugh. A champion for animals. Beloved of children everywhere. In short, a teddy bear,” _____ (Marseille Reader) answered immediately.

________ (Arizona Reader’s) eyebrows raised in approval as she looked at ______ (London Reader) who was growing ever the more rosy at the descriptions given.

BERLIN || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. “Suture”

Length - 2,133

Mood - Festering, Muted

Pairing - Minseok x Reader

“Even if I try to catch some sleep

It runs further away from me

All of my good memories

Are dyed in the color of regrets”

“Bad Dream” by EXO

He was appearing in your dreams again. Just like he had before he disappeared.

At first, you thought the delirium of your fever had drove you to seek comfort, or an alternate reality.

But when the dreams opened within a familiar setting; your old flat in Pankow you’d moved into within a month of Minseok’s morning call, you knew that something was wrong.

He was there on the couch, cutting into the homemade cake you’d purchased from Cafe Rosenrot the night before. Though you could never stand leftovers, there was something divine about the way they made their cakes that allowed you to relax your hard, and fast no leftovers rule.

He had just popped a slice of strawberry in his mouth, licking away at the whipped cream at his fingers as you approached him.

And as his eyes shifted from his fingertips to your face, the color drained from his irises, and his skin adopted a frightening pallor.

The red of the strawberry juice dribbled, and dripped from his lips thickening into a bloody stream that also stemmed from his now colorless eyes, his shrinking, withering nose, his-

“Good afternoon, Ms. ________. How are you today? Are you comfortable?” the physician asked, his whiskers shivering as he spoke.

“Well enough. Was the surgery successful?” You drowsed, opening your eyes wide, and blinking rapidly as if to peer past the pulsating fog of amnesia that was slow to clear.

He moved forward immediately, rapidly flipping through some documents on a translucent clipboard he materialized from within his lab coat. He pulled a pewter stool standing vacant by the door along behind him while you rose on your forearms, pulling yourself up further in your bed to rest against the high pillowed headboard.

You squinted out of habit, reaching to the bedside table for your glasses, and gasped when your hands did not palm the wire frames you sought out.

You turned abruptly to your left to see the physician holding them out to you, also out of habit.

Silently he pointed to the X-Ray lighting the whole of your stomach where your ulcers had amassed.

You looked at the time stamp, and took a deep breath, nodding once so the physician knew to flip the page, and show you what was accomplished.

You stared, not swallowing, nor breathing in even the clear scent of the antiseptic room, hearing only the clicking, and ticking of the wall clock across the room.

You’re late, you’re late.

“We cannot possibly patch this every time _______. You have to slow down. It’s becoming too dangerous.”

One year later.

“Tonight, esteemed guests…” you heard Minseok murmuring in his methodical tenor as you knocked on his dressing room door. Within his private floor of Erhabenheit had always been a private dressing room, a salient space of a lone, cerebral prince.

All of the color, brightness, and whimsy was contained within the island dresser drawers within the center of the room where all manner of baubles, jewels, and gadgets of which he could adorn himself were kept.

While the room surrounding him was silver, and porcelain. Surgical, and symmetrical.

“_____,” he breathed as you entered, in a silken, melodious cloud of perfume, and jewels.

“Are you quite ready?” You asked, tilting your head as you took him in.

He was dressed save for his unbuttoned embroidered dress shirt and where his feet were bare beneath his trousers.

His eyes were lined in charcoal, and his lips painted a soft cherry.

A sudden nerve pulsated at his brow.

He was ready, but still marinating.

Sporadic echoes of distant celebrations accompanied by the popping, and fizzing of effervescent fireworks sounded as if on cue.

“Our guests are steadily arriving,” you intoned as he turned from you, his cheeks slightly pink as he buttoned his shirt, and pushed his feet into his loafers.

“Then let us meet them,” he said, reaching out an arm to you.

You paused a beat before turning to walk ahead of him out of his dressing room, and waited for him to join you in the hall taking his arm then as you descended down the spiral stairs to the bowels of Erhabenheit below.

An elevator ride, a leisurely walk, plus 15 minutes later

“Zehn! Neun! Acht! Sieben! Sechs! Fünf! Vier! Drei! Zwei! Eins! Frohes neues Jahr!!!”

The vibrating crowd exclaimed as dazzling fireworks erupted outside the glass panes of the 6 stories tall building wherein you, and your esteemed guests were celebrating the birth of the new year.

The cacophony of their braying cheers matched the thunderous applause of those celebrating close by at the Brandenburg Gate down the road.

You felt a gentle tap at your forearm as expected by ______ (Yunnan Reader.)

“It’s time,” she mouthed discreetly just as the appointed staff stood at attention behind your dining chair, and helped you to stand so that they could rotate your dining chairs whose backs that Minseok had designed to resemble filigreed staircases.

Across from you, you could see Yixing had tapped Minseok as expected, and he also made ready to ascend the staircase in unison with you.

1, 2, 3….

You moved into place beside Minseok, taking the arm he offered to you once again, standing atop the center of your dining table upon the logo Minseok had carved there.

Minseok only raised an eyebrow, and darkness fell over the greenhouse, quieting all in attendance to your presence.

“Tonight, esteemed guests, we serve you the first course...we, the Pathcodes open at the close…” Minseok began. You felt his chest expand against your arm, that he held within his own, and a slight tremor as he let go of a shaky breath that only you could hear.

This year’s theme was bringing Mediterranean warmth to the cold, crisp winter of Berlin by establishing Feuerstelle, a Mediterranean greenhouse fueled by Rein, a companion distillery. Both ideas came to you, and Minseok as you toured the festival hosted in Yunnan with Yixing, earlier the previous month. No sooner had Minseok thought of connecting the businesses to be a daily versus seasonal venture that you were investing in vacant land in the vicinity of Erhabenheit to build both the distillery whose heat would fuel the day to day function of the greenhouse.

The greenhouse, during its daylight hours, would host a soup kitchen, and food bank providing both employment, and nutritional courses to the needy within the area. At night, the distillery would be opened as a restaurant for exclusive clientele whose entry was granted by purchasing bottles whose proceeds would keep the operation running.

Through your collaboration you prepared a twist on the Return to Terra Festival proposed by Kyungsoo, and his wife, ______ (Colorado Reader,) featuring attributes of your extensive board. The gala became a three days long festival culminating on this New Year’s Eve. The board of executives arrived ahead of the commemorative event from Colorado, Almaty, Lyon, London, Marseille, Edinburgh, Arizona, Barcelona, and Yunnan, for individual portraits with _______ (Colorado Reader,) before a final pose with the entire ensemble at the “First Supper,” the debut Return to Terra Festival of Berlin.

The final ceiling to floor length illustrations by _______ (Colorado Reader) would be on display at a location to be later disclosed but were temporarily propped against the walls within the glass greenhouse, with billowing teams of golden silk draped luxuriously around their frames.

Hung from the ceiling were quartz, and selenite pendants, and chandeliers which illuminated the lavish floral, and silk tables where surveyors dined, the light silverware upon their table, and the glistening flora on grand display.

At the end of Minseok’s speech, the staff stood once again at either side where you parted from Minseok, reaching to guide you down from the table as the lights returned to the chandeliers above your table.

A lyre sounded over the speakers.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And Sehun, in a steady, velvety baritone, spoke into the soundless space.

“Sing me a new song;

The world is transfigured;

All the heavens are rejoicing”

The crowd gasped as the models entered.

In a single line the emerged from behind the tapestry, and ascended the staircase-backed chairs to begin their walk.

The catwalk had been assembled to commence on the King’s table your board of executives had been illustrated attending “the First Supper” on in your media advertisements.

From there the women, and men, bare from the waist up, wearing headdresses of lush thyme, and sage, stark ivory, and deep amethystine purple, and minerals, would descend from the King’s table, and walk the spiraling glowing catwalk throughout the venue.

Surveyors sat on earthen stone blocks throughout the fragrant greenhouse as models strutted amongst them, bells at their wrists, ankles, and necks tinkling as they moved. Their dynamic cool, vibrant earth-toned ensembles had been penned by _____ (Lyon Reader,) _______ (Colorado Reader,) and Sehun, the presiding producer.

Though none in the audience could see him, you knew from rehearsal that he stood behind the floor to ceiling tapestry before you where the models were dressed, and directed by himself, ______ (Lyon Reader,) and _______ (Colorado Reader.)

You knew too that _______ (Edinburgh Reader) was seated at the far back, monitoring the model formations, videography, and sound alongside designated staff.

The fashion show was flowing stunningly.

Just as you had meticulously planned.

You were proud of Sehun, and _______’s (Edinburgh Reader) decisive collaboration especially, and could tell that your investors were also pleased by the way they turned, and gasped, tittered amongst themselves.

You looked on, briefly looking into the faces of your board of executives.

Where her skirt split, ________’s (Arizona -OG Reader) crossed leg bobbed in time to the music, as she watched over the lyre player she’d trained in the months leading up to this event.

He was seated beside Chanyeol who manned the goblet shaped دمبك that he’d also been trained on with _____ (Arizona -OG Reader.)

“One more turn, and then we stand,” Tao murmured to ______(Barcelona Reader) beside him as he eyed the revolutions of the models.

He held one of her hands in his, and was tapping his thumb against her in time to Chanyeol’s pulsing beat just like he’d done throughout the rehearsal when they arrived two days prior.

She appeared as though hidden within his embrace in a way she hadn’t before.

Though not out of fear, but now of familial comfort.

Facing all things as brother, and sister.

Unlike the rest of you, she wore a luminous veil of delicate tulle, that kept her head, neck, and shoulders from view.

She was peaceful beside Tao, and where her hands had slightly gripped his as they tentatively entered two days prior, and took their seats amongst you, they were now as you noted before calm between his, and steady where he tapped his lithe forefinger against the skin of the back of her prone hand.

And just as Tao had murmured a moment ago, the models stopped in place at the sudden sound of the lyre.

Sehun spoke once more before the glow of the chandeliers above you faded.

“The experience of eternity right here and now is the function of life.

Heaven is not the place to have the experience;

Here is the place to have the experience.”

The audience roared in approval, standing around your seated executives King’s table that had extended throughout the entire venue.

“Let the feast begin!” Minseok stood upon the rousing thunderous applause, gesturing once to the staff who carried in chargers piled high with the night’s first course without delay.

You turned over your shoulder to watch them all.

The way their eyes bulged as they absorbed not only with their noses, and mouths, and hands but with their entire being the feast you’d laid before them on this final evening of celebration.

“We can be excused now,” Minseok said as he sat, and leaned in briefly to address your party who remained seated during the opening events.

The gentleman stood first, offering their companions their arms as rehearsed.

Then starting with yourself, and Minseok you filtered out of the dining hall of the greenhouse arranged solely for the grand opening night.

Flanked by the models who had formed regimented rows beside you, you processed out into the chill Berlin air where your cars waited, humming, and purring along the curb.

Sehun quietly dismissed the models once you’d arrived outside, while your board stood silently beside another, exhaling together as one.

You’d done it.

“And now we-?” began _______ (Barcelona Reader,) as she stood between Tao, and Sehun.

She reached for the sleeve of his Zegna black wool suit, holding his cuff between her fingers.

Tao tilted, bringing his lips to the top of her head.

“Yes, now we can rest.”

YÚNNÁN || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. “Kuoshi” Length - 3,096 Mood - Resentment, Confusion, Pairing - Yixing x Reader Trigger Warning - mention of suicide “Baby tonight, forget your worries I’ll use my warmth to embrace you/Baby tonight, the anticipated sound of the clock strikes/Baby tonight, let the story flow like this/This is the time to decide the unforeseeable future/Baby tonight, I need to hold you tonight to relieve the worries ”

“Tonight” by Zhang Yixing _______________ December

Mending.

It was the second time you’d taken a walk down the hall since arriving back at your office this morning.

Except this time you took the stairs instead of the elevator down to the first floor.

Out to the lobby.

Out to the fresh air.

Of the Spring City.

“Ma’am, shall I have a car brought around? My apologies for not having a car ready ahead of time,” the attendant commented as soon as he saw you pass over the threshold of the lobby doors, your cane clicking into place beside you.

Perhaps you only sensed a slight irritation in the way he looked at you when you smiled, and shook your head that “it’s not a problem.”

“My apologies nonetheless ma’am. Please be careful,” he stated, a slight derisive tone in his voice as you moved past him and down the steps to the busy street below.

It took some doing to keep up with the flow of foot traffic now that you were up once again from your desk, but you welcomed the challenge eagerly, preferring to be out amongst the fresh air than waiting another moment for him to return. 

You’d talked about this meeting with Yixing briefly over the past couple of weeks, once he’d received the official invitation to the Governor’s residence.

The general headquarters for Yixing’s conglomerate had been a flutter since it’s arrival, and request for Yixing’s presence in early December.

“Of course you will accept this offer of appointment to aid the Governor of Yunnan, Yixing. His is the second highest office available to a public official within our province. He is second only to the Secretary of the Provincial Congress. It is what we have been waiting for. Your parents would be proud,” his advisors had insisted once he’d finally opened the letter.

It had been hand delivered by a personal messenger from the Governor, who was tasked to wait for Yixing’s response.

You had been in the middle of planning the first Return to Terra festival to be held in a yet to be decided public square following Kyungsoo’s short visit some months before when the letter had arrived that stalled all conversation that had previously been underway.

The look on Yixing’s face was bound, and refined, even when his glance passed over you.

But you’d expected nothing less.

Following your return to work, a slim white unaddressed envelope greeted you on your desk one morning, within which was a small stack of photographs of you, and Yixing.

In public.

In moments that you trusted to have been private.

And a single note.

“Is this what a Foreign Direct Investment does for the people of Yunnan? Will this bring prosperity to our province?”

And though you wanted to throw the note out the window, you braced yourself against your desk, fighting the urge to scream as you counted down from 10 before dialing Yixing’s office, and asking his secretary to schedule a meeting with him before lunch.

Instead, he came immediately following your call.

You stood by the window, hearing him enter.

His breath came, and escaped him as if he’d run the flights down to your office in a frenzy.

“Baobei, what happened? What’s-”

You felt the wind knocked out of you for a second time as you heard his confused stutter into shocked silence as he looked at the photos you’d spread across your desk, and the lone note whose handwriting you didn’t recognize.

“Baobei, I can fix this. Just let me bring this to my advisors-”

“Yixing, you cannot fix this. Look at what the rest of the note says,” you spoke slowly, calmly.

A pause as he did as you asked, before a flurry of movement upon your desk as he looked for the unfolded photocopy of the report filed with the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection detailing improper usage of company funds earned through an international financial agreement for personal/recreational benefit, and lewd public behavior.

The second claim was out of spite, but the first claim brought a cold chill to your spine.

A shroud of shame snaking its way around your ankles, tying you in place.

Not only had the Butler violated your peace.

Now his employer haunted your every move.

“But for some reason you chose to go back there. You’ve made your choice. Now stick with it…”

“It’s not over _____,” he said to you from far away, across the wind, across the world.

And you turned to him, your cane made of the pure iron of Yixing’s mines, tapping a meditative semi-circle at your feet as you faced him with fresh tears in your eyes.

“Yixing, it is over. It is. You cannot risk your businesses for me. I will not let you. There have been too many officials that have been brought to justice within the past six months by this one commission for crimes I hadn’t dreamed of. There is a serious effort being made to stamp out any whiff of corruption. Don’t tell me that you forgot the official who committed suicide after being found out not only for shady business dealings, but for keeping several mistresses. Impropriety, and indiscretion is not tolerated Yixing. Never. We can-”

“We cannot just give up. You are not, and have never been my mistress. We have not misused-”

“It doesn’t even matter if we did not misuse company funds. It doesn’t matter where the money came from. It doesn’t matter if their claims were unfounded. Yixing don’t you see?!” You felt the air chilling within you as you looked at him, seeing him in his willful innocence, and faithful morality. Seeing his pure susceptible heart, and wanting to forcefully protect it, and yourself.

“_____-”

“Yixing once they start looking into your history, they will ask about me. They will ask about this mysterious accident you have made up. They will ask what really happened. And then they will find out about the Butler. It is over, Yixing,” you stepped back as he moved forward, your cane clattering to the floor, abruptly abandoning your hands in your hurry to move away, and shield yourself from comfort.

But he moved swiftly still, catching you before you slid to the hardwood floor.

“Why are you asking me to give you up?” his grip was gentle where he supported you, but you knew that he was ever mindful that he was protecting you from the rage resounding within his own body.

“I am not asking you. The world demands it. I have compromised you. I have compromised myself. I have shamed your office. I-”

“How we feel about each other is a shame?” He was genuinely surprised, his clear eyes clouded in vivid grief of which you could not see through to the end.

“How do we feel about each other? Is it real? Was it convenient for you? Having me here at the office? Why-”

“Why are you looking for a way out? Are you asking me to be angry with you? To resent you? Why are you running away?” You were horrified at the sound of it. At the truth of it. Of how real it had become, and how much you didn’t want to be part of this pain.

“Will you think for just a moment? Can you forget me for just a moment and think about the people of your province? The promise I made to you when we first met? That is why I’m here,” you had been keeping your eyes on your own hands holding his forearms within his silk white button down sleeves, willing your core to remain strong as you’d learned in physical therapy to keep yourself upright.

One of his hands lifted to your chin, propelling your gaze upward as the thunder, and rain of the rage within his eyes bore down on you.

“Is that the only reason why you’re here?”

“Yixing-”

“I need to know now so that I can plan my next move,” the lightning flashed closer.

You shook your head, willing him to stop, and to let you go.

“Yixing-”

“Yes or no?” He snapped.

“N-no,” you breathed, and he exhaled hotly, pulling away from you so that he could stand.

He crossed to your desk, quickly gathering the photographs, and the note, placing them neatly into the slim envelope as if they were documents he was going to ask his secretary to file away.

You waited, watching the muscles in his back twitch as he stood with the envelope placed upon the desk as it had been when you arrived.

His arms were spread out before him, his open palms flat against the desk as he leaned forward, his head bent in serene thought.

You picked up your cane, and held it between both hands, waiting.

“We will apologize to the staff. I will schedule it. I will meet with the Commission tomorrow morning. I will fix this,” he stated simply as if he was telling you what he’d like to have for dinner.

He turned to you, the rage shifting wildly within his eyes.

“I will fix this,” he said airily.

And the following afternoon, following his impromptu meeting with the Commission, within his own office he apologized to the staff for his indiscretion in revealing the intimacy of your growing personal relationship, and vowed to behave more appropriately in the public sphere.

“Going forward, I will honor my position, and your investment into this company. I will honor my commitments, and I will not disgrace you, nor your efforts to serve my selfish desires. Please accept my apology. If you do not, and wish to be parted from this business, I will do my best to understand, and respect your decision,” he said with head bowed to his advisors.

You also bent beside him, your cane biting within the palms of your hands as you held tight to it for support as you waited for their acceptance, or denial of your apology.

“We will only accept, if you truly move forward with dignity. You risk not only your public image, and your family’s hard work, Yixing. You risk our image, and our hard work. You risk the livelihood, and happiness of the people of Kunming, and of Yunnan. You have been tasked with an incredible duty. Please see to it, that you behave accordingly, and with honor as you have promised us once again,” his eight wisened advisors commanded in earnest unison.

Within their acceptance, you heard all the things you had feared, and known to be true.

Effective immediately, you were a ghost.

Unwanted.

You saw within their eyes, the pictures they had taken.

The anger in their hearts, as they drafted the official report, and mailed it to the Commission.

The immediate glacial distance between you bore a distinct atmospheric change within the office that Yixing’s staff seemed unsure whether to welcome, or question.

You arrived to the office separately each morning, and returned to your separate homes when your work was completed.

When you were in his presence, you pretended not to know what it felt like to be in those arms, or to have those same fingers in your hair signing off, and drawing up new plans for Yixing’s commitment to the Pathcodes.

A commitment he had not yet asked you to consider.

“Let me know if it ever becomes too much,” he whispered to you between chaste kisses in the elevator of his headquarter building before stepping away cleanly as the doors opened, his lips pressed into a pleasant crease as if you’d only asked him to turn around so you could adjust his tie before he was off flying to Berlin, heading to the office, or making a trip to the mining or farming sites he managed.

At first, when he also began to privately see a therapist after an initial consultation with _____ (London Reader) as part of your prior rehabilitation agreement you thought his consistent soft spoken reminder was an acknowledgement to what suffering he thought you had endured, and what he had spoken about with her, and his assigned therapist you’d yet to meet or hear anything more about.

But over the past year those words, and that phrase he would utter right before pulling away from you, felt more, and more like he was pulling the chair out from under you, and watching to see whether you were strong enough now to make it on your own independent of him.

It took everything in you to stop seeing yourself as a burden to him.

But you wondered.

You wondered when he hired a fresh group of interns, and staff to maintain the accounts you managed since your solemn apology.

“I would appreciate all of you taking the time to learn the extent of the work ______ maintained during her time here with us. I would appreciate the same level of care, and attention that ______ paid to these accounts,” you’d heard Yixing, and watched as if from behind a wall of impenetrable glass, your hands sweating, and itching as you stood before the assembly of bright eyed, hungry souls focused on the man beside you.

On the man who would lay you down again tonight.

Tonight.

“I’m willing to give up everything for you..”

“How is taking everything away from me, giving everything up for me?”

*Heated, palpable silence*

“What will there be left for me, if I’m pushed to the sidelines here?”

“What do I look like coming in to work, and supervising the work that I was meant to do?”

*Tension in his jaw*

“You have to understand baobei…”

“What is there to understand when you don’t talk to me? How am I supposed to know the plans when you don’t-”

*Living, breathing fire in his deep umber, and coffee eyes*

“Why do you want to fight? What do you want me to do? You told me it was over! You asked for this!”

“I said that we couldn’t keep seeing one another at the office. But I didn’t say that my job was over. I didn’t say that I was done working. I didn’t say I wanted out of the business. I want you to talk to me! Stop treating me like I’m damaged goods! Stop tiptoeing around me!”

“Oh?”

*Fire building in your chest, billowing, higher & hotter*

“Yixing, get out. Get out, damnit! Get OUT!”

“Don’t raise your voice when you could simply tell me what the matter is. That’s what children do…”

“Get the hell out!”

Days of silence in the sunlight.

Weeks of solitary quiet that he would be away, while you were supposed to be healing, and focusing on your health following your unfortunate accident.

Hushed apologies when he would return with flowers.

And apologies. “I should not have said that…”

“I have so much on my mind…”

“I want to do this right…”

“We never seem to have enough time…”

But he wouldn’t stay the night.

“They’re not here Yixing. They don’t know that you’re here unless you tell them.”

You hated the way you were pleading with him with your eyes, your lips, your mouth, your cold heart.

Gasping for the air he denied you of when he disappeared to once again be on assignment, to be responsible, to be who he was before you met one another.

To continue on while you were on hold.

Because he had promised.

And you made him promise.

A whole world of possibilities open to him that you were denied privilege except when the air within you cooled, and he suddenly came willingly, and frequently, and lovingly.

“I want us to have a future. But I have to protect you. You have to understand. When you are ready, the Pathcodes could be where we begin once again. But you have to decide. I can no longer have you associated with my businesses in the way that you were before. It’s too dangerous. The Pathcodes is a new opportunity. I want to offer a different aspect of Yunnan there…and you can be instrumental in that. Together, we can create something altogether new, right _____? Right baobei?”

*Kisses, tenderness, apologies, loving. So much loving. So many promises. Blissful, unhurried union*

But in the daylight you walked to Dongfeng square alone, wandering to the vendor selling the steamed spring rolls you liked.

She prepared two cartons of juanfen the way you liked before you had to open your mouth, and ask with drool dribbling down the side of your mouth.

“Shall I make a third? He’s not coming today?” She asked, as she squinted behind you as if she could see him sprinting to catch up.

As if he’d just let you walk ahead.

You shook your head, offering her the precise amount bidding her farewell before ducking out of the smoke, and back up the walk to your office building.

You walked carefully, proud of the way you balanced the plastic cartons as you made your way back up the stairs to your office, faltering on at the door when you met eyes with Yixing leaning against your desk.

“I thought you were with the Governor?” you asked, looking at him with his arms folded across his chest in his black Valentino trench with cream detail.

He looked at the juanfen in your hands, licking his lips quickly as he moved forward towards you, his expression vacant.

Not yet.

Not here.

“There are some people here that I’d like for you to meet,” he gestured you forward with his hand, taking the piping hot juanfen from your hands, and placing it on your desk before he led you out, and down the hall to the conference room where you came face to face with two women, and one very familiar smiling face.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I am so glad to see that you’re in much better health,” one of the women said as she reached out a hand to you in greeting, coming forward as soon as you stepped into the room behind Yixing, her heels clicking across the floor as she moved towards you.

While maintaining a solid grasp on your cane with your dominant hand, you reached out to her, taking her hand in yours and giving it a firm shake as you returned her smile hesitantly.

She also stood to the side, allowing her associate _______ (Almaty Reader) to step forward and greet you in similar fashion, though she moved noiselessly.

“Hopefully this meeting will allow us to iron out the last details we need for our Christmas Gala. Minseok was insistent on planning taking place here in Yunnan instead of at the venue in Berlin where it will actually be taking place…something about Yixing being unable to leave as he was already tied up here?” The lilt at the end of her phrase suggested to you that she knew no more than you did, and you tried to hide your disappointment at the lack of insight she was able to provide.

Yixing cleared his throat, pushing aside the question ________ (Almaty reader) brought up as he held your hand much more firmly in his as he introduced Minseok once again.

“Ah, it’s wonderful to finally meet you once again ______, and thankfully in much better health. I realize that Yixing has been unable to share much with you recently, what with all the changes occurring here at the office. Please forgive us for coming up so suddenly, and not offering a warning. If you have the time, we’d love to speak with you about what we have come to call the Pathcodes. It is a venture I think we could utilize your expertise in. You have been a tremendous help to Yixing here, and he believes that you could continue that within the Pathcodes. ______ (Berlin reader), and ______ (Almaty reader) have prepared a packet for you with some options to consider. If you could please have a seat,” Minseok gestured to you, cleanly pulling you forward from Yixing’s grasp to settle into a chair you’d sat in on occasion, but now came to as if transported into an altogether new space.

His eyes were dazzling.

The fragrance of his breath inviting.

The way he spoke to you.

The way he lifted you clean away.

Up, and above.

Beyond.

To a different dimension.

To a world entirely away from the weighted fog you sifted through day in, and day out.

A world where you were no longer bound to the perimeter.

Tied up, and away.

Forsaken.

Grounded.

You were exposed to the air.

Your hair.

Your skin.

Your body alive.

Your movement free.

Relieved.

Of consequence.

Punishment.

Possibility.

Was Yixing there too?

Could he be there waiting for you?

Unbound?

When had you been given the code for entry?

constellations

MARSEILLE || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. “Qui n’avance pas, recule” Length - 4,648 Mood - trepidation, unease Pairing - Junmyeon x Reader

Warning - N/A

“You’ll know when you grow up//I still don’t get that saying//Living each day by holding things inside//Is that what becoming an adult is?” “Being An Adult” by Kim Na Young

December

“Junmyeon, you’re such a clever young man. Pity you weren’t the first born son,” the executive gave another booming laugh as he stood to shake hands with Junmyeon, who masked his annoyance within seconds of the man’s utterance.

From where you sat you could hear the sharp inhales ________ (Berlin Reader,) and ______ (New Almaty Reader) took discreetly before intermittently taking a sip of wine.

Even Minseok, gave a chic smile, his eyes flashing as he looked on at the gentleman.

In response, Minseok rose and gave the gentleman an equally firm hand shake, gazing at the rod straight posture Junmyeon held.

You rose to give the executive your farewells as well, standing to the side once you shook his hand as well as his board members.

“To the future of our mutual interests. Here is to the beginning of Elixier. May this mighty vision turn not only the power and heat of the Earth into healing springs for our customers but also turn our efforts into gold that we can thrive off of for generations to come,” he proclaimed, the boom in his voice as powerful as his girth.

You lifted your glass in unison with the small assembly to punctuate his toast, seeing Junmyeon thinking about making a toast of his own.

“We cannot thank you enough for your investment into the Pathcodes, and into Elixier. I will give my absolute best, and would appreciate your continued support. May the water of life invigorate not only our cause but may it transform the world. I thank you,” he bowed humbly, and the business executive did likewise before everyone took another hearty sip of wine before you resumed your seat as Junmyeon and Minseok spoke privately with the gentleman as he and his board members stepped away from the table.

You lowered your eyes as he led the executive and his private dining party away while you,  _____ (Berlin Reader,) and ______ (New Almaty Reader) waited for him to return.

“Ahem, you don’t have to add that comment-” _____ (Berlin Reader) began but you gave her a you-can’t-actually-be-serious look.

“I’m just saying…” she sighed as she took another generous sip of wine, before quickly tapping through her contacts and placing her phone to her ear, the acrylic of her manicured nails flashing at her brisk movements.

“_______ (Lyon Reader)? Hi. So did you speak with her? Mhm. Well we can wait a little while. Yes we can put it on hold. Mhm. Well if we need to have a conference with the two of them but separately then let’s do that. We are going to reevaluate our plan for the following year in a couple of days anyway. Yes. Mhm. I like the idea of them doing a soft opening or a mock opening at our venue. It’s possible. Mhm. But did she suggest that or are you suggesting it now…? Mhm. Mhm. Ok. Well I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Yes I know...I can’t believe it’s December already too. Goodness. Don’t remind me. Mhm I hear her. Minseok wanted to send presents but I told him that we should wait until you all get here...well. Well if you say so. Mhm. My assistant is ready whenever you are. Ok. Sure. Of course. You know he loves to dote. There were a couple of gifts I told him we’d have to wait on...darling she isn’t old enough yet. Mhm. Mhm. So are you flying in earlier still or are you sending your associate and your intern? Mhm. Sure I’ve arranged flights either way. Mhm. Ok well we’ll see you soon. Mhm. Be well,” she held a quiet smile on her lips as she spoke with ______, your dear friend that you’d been texting earlier that day prior to your business meeting.

“We need his support...unfortunately….,” ______ (New Almaty Reader) sighed once she was done, before standing to collect the notes she worked to compile.

You were actually surprised that she hadn’t brought the iPads she’d ordered and compiled notes on.

“When I looked through his profile and spoke with ______ (Berlin Reader) about it again prior to today, he seemed more like an old school man. That he would rather have a pen and paper to look at instead of swiping through screens. We can always use them later,” she had said before the executive and his associates arrived.

You stood to stretch, rolling your shoulders back and forth before swinging your head side to side methodically.

You could hear Minseok and Junmyeon conversing as they walked up the spiral steps to the private dining area of Elixier, Junmyeon and Minseok’s brainchild.

Junmyeon gave a long yawn after they reached the top of the steps, shaking out his shoulders as Minseok continued on.

“We’ll do everything we can to secure his support. This is a prime moment for us Junmyeon. I know he’s an old associate of your brother’s but there was a reason for that. He is a powerful man. He heads not only the electrical components but also the internal distribution networks. Imagine the magnitude of this Junmyeon. Imagine being able to supply electricity provided through this geothermal energy not only to the local districts but throughout France. Imagine being able to not only heat your spa here at Elixier but also industrial plants and agricultural organizations throughout this country? All while providing power that is cost-effective, sustainable, and friendly to the environment? You have a brilliant idea here Junmyeon. I’m just your muscle...let me help you. Let me connect you with the right people,” Minseok said, keeping his voice level though the only persons in attendance besides your small party were all trusted staff men and women who were currently cleaning up the kitchen after your private meal.

Within Junmyeon’s eyes, you could see his reservations, and though you wished he would take a risk here, you knew better than to push him considering the past couple of years.

“We have had to delay this project for months at a time due to geophysical surveys we had to take. I won’t even go into more of the finances...but right now we have to decide. We’ve secured a lot of contracts within the past couple of weeks. I understand this is separate altogether from your father’s original plan. But keeping it old school isn’t good for the Earth and it isn’t what the Pathcodes is about...also with what’s happened with your brother...we need to transition far and away from that field in particular,” Minseok went on when Junmyeon had nothing to say.

He stayed quiet for another moment, considering all that his elder and dearest friend advised him of before he lifted his head, and looked to everyone standing around the dining table looking at him.

When his eyes found yours, you smiled encouragingly and he nodded to you.

“Well that settles it then...are we heading back to the hotel now? I want to sleep for at least two hours before I catch my flight,” ______ (New Almaty Reader) announced as she gathered her purse, her heels clicking as she moved towards the stairs.

_____ (Berlin Reader) was right on her heels, descending the steps behind her as soon as Minseok nodded.

He followed behind ______ (Berlin Reader) after taking a final sip of wine, and you moved to Junmyeon’s side after picking up your purse & tablet that sat in your seat beside you throughout the meeting.

“What do you really think?” You asked him, as he brought you into his side, wrapping your arms around his toned waist as he pressed a kiss against your brow.

His jaw tensed for a moment before he responded.

“I guess it’s up to me now. To not only save our family’s business but our legacy...and here I thought that I was going to remain the useless one,” he chuckled but you could hear the derision in his tone.

“Jun-” he shook his head, wrapped his arms around you as he kissed your nose.

“I want to go home and rest too before we head over there,” he said, clearly ending the conversation.

He released you, stepping out of your embrace to take your hand in his as you descended the steps with him leading the way.

When you made it to the entrance of Elixier, the staff stood at the kitchen entrance as if waiting to see you off.

The head chef had called everyone in early that morning to practice their serving routine for the business meeting you had just left.

She looked relieved to see you both standing at the foot of the stairs now ready to depart.

It meant her day of hard work was done for this weekend.

“Thank you so much for your support this weekend everyone. I cannot thank you enough for how diligent you all have been. We will be closed now until our grand opening in a couple day’s time. Please rest well and enjoy your time off. Have a good evening,” Junmyeon smiled, the tension of the last couple hours lifting as he smiled his brightest smile.

The staff cheered, walking up to you both and congratulating you too on your hard work.

“Champagne for the staff?” the head chef asked as she greeted you both.

“Why don’t we hold off until the night of the grand opening? That’s our final test,” Junmyeon said in response and she nodded immediately.

“Sir, Madam,” she winked at you as she took her leave back through the kitchen doors.

As the staff finished their goodbyes to you and Junmyeon, they also returned to the kitchen and you and Junmyeon headed out into the lobby before heading out where the valet waited with your car to greet you.

“Good evening Mr. Kim,” he said, inclining his head to Junmyeon who greeted him in turn.

He held the door for you, and took his time walking around the car before getting in and putting the car into drive.

After taking a nap together, you rested on Junmyeon’s chest while he anchored your weight against him, you woke refreshed, and took your time dressing, pulling on a simple dress and cardigan while Junmyeon pulled on dark blue slacks and a pressed white button shirt.

“We could take the evening to rest Junmyeon…” you suggested quietly, as he came up behind you to help you with the clasp of your necklace.

He pressed his hands against the top of your shoulders, sliding his hands down your frame until they touched your waist as he brought his face forward until his cheek touched yours, your faces now side by side.

He nuzzled your cheek for a moment, turning into your skin to kiss you gently.

You closed your eyes, pulling him by his hands so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and snuggle you closer.

“I’m not sure how to do this,” he whispered suddenly, his cheek once again pressed against your cheek.

His voice was so small, and afraid.

And you were afraid that if you opened your eyes, he would be smiling once again as if he hadn’t said a word.

So you remained quiet waiting for him to say more, but he only tightened his grip on your hands, squeezing them back where you squeezed them before intertwining your fingers.

“It’s ok to be afraid,” you whispered as quietly as you could slipping your fingers between his, offering him the moment where it was finally just you and him once again.

“But right now…” he gave a broken sigh, and you felt him stepping away, his hands opening as if to signal to you by gesture alone that he wanted to be left alone.

And you released him though you wanted to keep him close.

Open up to me.

“Junmyeon...please,” you said to his back as he turned to leave the bathroom.

He stopped, turning his chin over his shoulder, his eyes on the door.

“We don’t want to go too late. Visiting hours usually aren’t that long,” he whispered, his dress shoes scuffing the floor as he went.

Your drive to the hospital was quiet save for the pounding of your heart in your ears.

You thought you heard Junmyeon shifting away from you as he drove quietly.

He’d been distant for some time after the news of his father’s stroke, and the failure of his father to return to stable health status following the news of his brother’s reported indecency with the company stock.

“I thought she had reported it the first time I saw the news…” his mother had sniffed in your direction when you arrived early one morning with Junmyeon on his routine visit to check in on his father following a visit with ______ (Lyon Reader) once she returned from Edinburgh the day before.

Upon her return, she called you as soon as she landed.

“Are you busy today? Can we have lunch? It’s been so long,” she stated. You could hear her pouting.

“It has been so long. I think Junmyeon has a free afternoon today. Tomorrow we’ll be at the hospital to visit again,” you sighed and she waited a moment before responding.

“Well come by as soon as you can. Let’s enjoy an afternoon together?” she asked before you hung up and you hurried to get Junmyeon up from his nap so you could join them.

As soon as you arrived, she whisked you through the foyer to her private garden.

Junmyeon couldn’t hide his smile at the sight of the private sushi bar.

He couldn’t turn around to thank _______ (Lyon Reader) fast enough.

She was already hugging him, saying, “it’s so good to see you both! Please help yourself! Baekhyun and I sampled a little bit before you came just to make sure.”

He hugged her back, genuinely squeezing her.

She left you two to sample some of the sushi she ordered while she went to check on Yun Hee.

When she returned you made light conversation about plans of the other Pathcodes members and she expressed her concerns openly about Sehun, ________ (Edinburgh Reader,) and _______ (Colorado Reader.)

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to talk about it at our next planning meeting but I feel like we have to. Baekhyun and I are juggling a lot right now. I’m not sure about everyone else...but something has to shift. I feel like instead of bringing us closer together it sometimes tears us apart...and I can’t keep going like this…” she said while keeping her emotions in check.

You nodded, picking up where she left off.

“It’s been really hard…” you wanted to go on but you knew it wasn’t your place.

You hoped Junmyeon didn’t think you set up this little heart to heart behind his back.

But this conversation was something you couldn’t even get Junmyeon to think about in private.

You had his full attention in bed or when discussing details of the Pathcodes.

When it was time to brainstorm he was by your side.

When he was ready to release the storm brewing inside of him, he was...well.

But this heart to heart…?

Baekhyun arrived just at that moment, briskly walking through the garden doors to greet you all.

“안녕,” he grinned, leaning down to kiss ______ (Lyon Reader) full on the mouth before he came around to hug both you and Junmyeon.

“My mother is here to visit for a couple days so I had to pick her up from the airport,” he explained as he sat down and then you picked up on your conversation.

“I agree, jagi,” he said to your dear friend, intertwining his fingers within hers as he took her hands in his.

She looked to him as he spoke.

The open fondness in her eyes melted your heart as you watched her.

“Maybe we’re going about this in the wrong way...I’m not saying we should give up on the Pathcodes. I think we need to find out how to make this work for us. I want to build something for my family, but I don’t want it to break my family. Does that make sense?” Baekhyun asked as he looked at you and Junmyeon in his mansion garden.

“I can understand that. Adulthood is about responsibility but you shouldn’t have to strain and drive yourself and everyone around you to the edge…” you chimed in and _______ (Lyon Reader) nodded in agreement.

“Fatherhood suits you, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon murmured in adoration, and Baekhyun blushed his ears pink as he sputtered making ______ (Lyon Reader) giggle as she snuggled into him.

You laughed too, parallel to the scene.

“I was nervous at first,” Baekhyun confessed in his trademark sincerity as their butler excused herself and lit the candles on your table and around the garden.

You turned to see the way the garden looked when it was lit, and took a moment to breath in the soft perfume of the floral buds surrounding you.

It was dizzying in an exhilarating way.

It was so _____ (Lyon Reader.)

“Because it’s not an easy thing. Fatherhood asks more of you. I was already all in for sharing my life with _____ (Lyon Reader) and then when I found out we were going to have a child...a daughter...I can’t describe that feeling,” there were tears in your eyes to hear him tell it.

“I will do everything I can to protect our family. Everything and anything I can. I’ve always been ambitious in my own way and have always worked hard because that’s all I know. But fatherhood almost feels like...it’s going to sound silly but I feel like I suit up every day and accomplish different missions throughout my day and once I clear them I get the reward of coming home and…” he looked at ______ (Lyon Reader) his eyes full of an intimate love you were slightly embarrassed to witness.

“It doesn’t sound silly at all,” she whispered and you knew full well that she would have kissed him right then and there but she coyly smiled at him, leaning into him and allowing him to kiss the top of her head instead.

You let out a shaky breath as you wiped your tears, and Junmyeon took your hand.

“That same passion you have for protecting your family. That’s how I knew my father to be. He always did things in his own way but I tried to understand it to be for the best for us. I...I don’t know what kind of man I would be without his example,” he confessed, and you felt his hand twitch slightly as he spoke, his eyes on the wine glass in his hand that the butler filled what now felt like hours and hours ago.

He kept his emotions in check as he spoke, not revealing anything deeper than that for the rest of the evening.

And for you, you tried to allow that to be enough.

From your own experience as a child who hadn’t had the chance to meet her birth parents, and had only known a mother who was hard working but distant you could understand Junmyeon’s reserved appreciation.

While your mother made space for you to bloom intellectually, that was where her investment remained.

She worked earnestly and remained steadfast in providing a healthy environment for your developmental and intellectual maturity.

And you felt that you had had a healthful upbringing from that standpoint until you met _______ (Lyon Reader.)

And when you finally met her Baekhyun…

You realized that you had only touched love superficially, and vicariously through her.

And it scared you how it didn’t bother you at first, to sit side by side with her and to witness her falling in unabashed, audacious love.

And it frightened you all the more seeing how you loved Junmyeon.

And how he loved you.

It was sincere.

Of that you were sure.

He would never hurt you, and he kept what you offered of yourself safe in his arms.

But you realized that your heart was what you still kept safe even from you.

And he let you keep your heart safe because he did the same.

But when moments like this happened…

When he was looking his pain stricken father in the face, and facing his mortality with him…

You wished you could find the key to him.

December

“Don’t wake him. He needs to rest,” his mother sniffed once more in your direction as you sat beside Junmyeon who focused his attention on his father who dozed before him.

You heard the soft click of the hospital door behind you but you didn’t turn to see whether his mother had left or not.

You focused on Junmyeon beside you, mirroring the quiet way he sat with his hands open, his palms flat against his thighs.

He sat still for another breath before leaning forward and whispering to his sleeping father, “I’m sorry 아버지. I’m so sorry. Please. Please if there is anything that I can do, please let me know so that you are comfortable.”

You felt your eyes welling with tears as you listened to his request but held yourself back.

Liver cancer.

“Liver cancer?” Junmyeon had echoed the physician immediately upon being given the news.

You expected his elder brother to be in attendance and for him to have been the one to deliver the news to the board of their family enterprise.

You expected a lot of his elder brother.

But mismanagement of company funds had not been one of them.

But it was apparently something he felt entitled to the day he was given his share of the family business.

He found every opportunity to create mysterious financial managers to handle this fund or that fund that he swore would balance the budget and debts owed to stakeholders.

And year after year he was trusted, waving away his father’s questions and the board’s doubts.

Until the price of the company stock plummeted following the news broke by a local hard nosed reporter of his mismanagement that was beyond the scope of the definition entirely.

It blindsided Junmyeon, the board and his father who had already been admitted after a stroke some days before the report was released.

And then came the lawsuits.

You couldn’t keep count of how many people jumped ship and you’d stopped asking Junmyeon a long, long time ago.

He hesitated as he suddenly moved beside you but then he moved purposefully closer to his father, reaching for his hand, and holding his hand in his with uncertainty.

It was odd watching from your angle and you jumped at the sudden fluttering of his father’s eyes as he searched for the reason behind the sudden sensation.

He looked at you both, his gaze lingering on you for a slight moment before he looked at Junmyeon.

He opened his mouth to speak, clearing his throat repeatedly.

“You should have been my only child.”

What?

Junmyeon shifted uncomfortably as he placed his father’s hand down.

“아버지...what do you mean? What are you talking about? What’s going on..?”

His father shook his head from side to side, before he spoke again.

“Your brother made a fool of us. He’s gotten cocky. He thinks that because I’m not in good health that he can do whatever he wants. He thinks that he can just take over the company…” he coughed as he spoke with vigor and he shocked you by doing his best to sit up.

What was going on?

Hadn’t both himself and his wife always allowed their eldest to lead and to be in charge?

“아버지 I don’t understand. I thought he was doing your will…?” Junmyeon sat back after helping to prop his father up, fluffing the pillows behind him and supporting him as he shifted around to get comfortable.

“He asked me to sell my share among other things. I didn’t end up doing it and we did argue about it but I still thought he was doing what you asked of him to do,” Junmyeon said honestly.

“No...he shouldn’t have done that,” his father said shaking his head once again.

He looked at Junmyeon as if to say that now he had every intention of telling the truth.

“He’s gotten into trouble again. He’s always gambled with his own funds and trusted his wild investments to cover him. But he went too far this time…”

The cold sweat of fear was starting to seep into your clothes as you listened to him.

“He lied to some potential investors telling them that we were in possession of bitcoin. He even held an auction-”

Junmyeon shook his head in disbelief.

“No father. No...how can he do this to our family?”

“He’s not even your brother,” he said, his tone flat.

“...what?” You whispered.

“That is my brother. What do you mean?” Junmyeon’s tone was becoming panicked.

“He was my elder brother’s illegitimate child,” his father went on. “He was married at the time and always...always making mistakes without consequences. The younger brother always pays the price for the elder’s mistakes.”

His tone darkened as he continued.

“My elder brother was unfaithful. He was unfaithful to his vows. He was unfaithful to our family. And when it was revealed that there was a child to be born of his unfaithfulness because the young woman came forward...he turned to his younger brother because he couldn’t risk his father finding out that he had dishonored his marriage to his father’s trusted business partner. The marriage had been agreed upon and refused numerous times due to his eldest son’s reputation. To risk his father finding out about his marriage not only risked shame, but the very future of the family business. So he asked his younger brother to take the fall. ‘Just say that it was your child. Just say that she’s your girlfriend and that you weren’t careful…’”

You didn’t know where to look as you listened to his father but when you chanced a glance at Junmyeon, you felt fresh tears welling up at the miserable way he slumped his shoulders.

But his father persisted, “I was asked to marry your mother. And since his birth, she has always celebrated the birth of her eldest son. And she consented to the marriage as long as she could continue to see my elder brother as she always had. But I demanded that if we were meant to truly be married and if I were to keep my silence, that we had a child of our own.”

Junmyeon lowered his head to his hands.

It all made sense to you now.

The way she looked at him.

His birth had trapped her in a marriage that she didn’t want to a man she didn’t love.

Your heart broke to hear it revealed to Junmyeon and in this way.

Had his mother known that her secret would be revealed today?

How could she?

“Why would you want to have a child…? I don’t understand…” Junmyeon asked, his head still in his hands.

“I had to make sure our marriage was legitimate when our father began to find out about the other children. Our father began to ask me about our relationship, and the circumstances of our eldest son’s birth. I had to make sure. I had to protect my brother. And it was also for me. I wanted a family. I wanted happiness,” he answered, his tone softening as he reached for Junmyeon who jumped in surprise at his father’s touch.

“You’ve been my happiness Junmyeon. You’ve made me so proud. You’re a wonderful son…” he said, patting his son’s hand as he laid back down to rest, closing his eyes.

LONDON || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. “ Can you handle it? Can I go there baby with you?” Length - 4,125 Mood - timid, curious but concupiscent Pairing - Jongin x Reader Warning - Suggestive sexual themes

“I’ve been waiting for a long time for you to hold your head up For you to look at me straight//It’s almost unbearable for me to be filled with thoughts of you all day” 

“Falling for You” by EXO

“I have found that they enjoy their sessions. We are still in the preliminary assessment phase and because of that I am still collecting data that will be used to create his treatment plan…but so far I have found him to be very responsive-”

“Which is unusual for us to hear,” the head physician interjected, inclining his greying head to you apologetically for the obviously purposeful interruption.

“I think it’s a testament to the importance of continuing to offer creative arts therapies as therapeutic supplements for our service users. I receive so many compliments and can begin to see a change in mood and willpower in many individuals who begin even just the assessment phase of creative therapies,” he went on gesturing to all of the creative arts therapists at the table like yourself.

“I couldn’t agree more,” the occupational therapist sighed contentedly as if they were putting the period at the end of a sentence.

The meeting was concluded.

You closed your notebook and open file, rising to follow the quiet procession of professionals when you felt a sudden presence beside you.

“______. I just wanted to check in with you and see how you’re feeling about our program here,” the head physician asked through his trademark snowy whiskers.

You smiled genuinely at his sincere query.

“I’m enjoying the educational environment and the networking opportunity. It’s a lot at once at first….like trying to drink water from a fire hose,” your voice trailed off at the sudden boom of his laughter.

“Oh I’m so sorry to startle you. It’s just the way you put it…well I’m glad to hear that you’re continuing to adjust well. Make sure to check in with your supervisor often about any concerns and/or needs that you have. Enjoy your afternoon,” the physician waved in parting as he turned away and you mimicked the movement before turning to head to your floor’s office.

You took the stairs slowly, your files and notes pressed close to your chest as you went.

“Hey,” you were greeted by your co-intern upon entering the small office off the stairwell.

“Hey! I thought you left for the day?” You asked in greeting as you headed towards your cubicle.

“Ah, I was heading that way since I had to miss out on our interdisciplinary meeting to catch up on notes. But catching up on notes was taking forever…and here I am,” he sighed as he stood, clasping his hands together as he stretched to his fullest height.

“Mm,” was all you murmured as you sat at your office desk to write in a couple of information you gathered about the handful of patients you’d spoken about during the meeting prior.

“Mm…giving air eh?” You could tell that he wanted to chat more but you didn’t have enough time if you wanted to make it to the metro.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…” you didn’t have to turn around to hear the laugh in his voice.

“Linking with him again eh? Where’s he taking you this time?” He asked as you closed your notebook and neatly placed them with the leaflets in the drawers before donning your bomber.

You took a moment to answer, seeing that he was also taking advantage of your silence to gather himself to leave for the evening.

You waited a moment more before picking up your satchel and heading towards the door, hearing him turn out the lights behind you once you opened the door.

“Well?” He asked as you took the stairs together descending in a rapid pace.

“You’re in a hurry, ______,” he tried again but you just fished deep inside the buzzing pocket of your bomber and pulled out your phone to see him calling.

“_____? Are you on your way?” His voice was thick with adoration, and the honeyed tone said to you that he was out from work a little earlier and probably waiting for you at the studio.

You quickened your steps down the street.

“Mm, I’m almost to the metro…sorry I’m running behind…” you whispered confidentially though he was still on your heels.

Jongin was quiet as he listened to you walk, and he was also quiet beside you as he waited for you to speak.

You descended the stairs when you found your stop but stopped suddenly when you saw Jongin waiting for you at the bottom.

He was hard to miss in his tawny leather bomber and crisp stovepipe black denim trousers.

His eyes scaled the stairs to find you surprised to see him, but when your eyes found each other his gaze was steadying as if to calmly state “I’m here now.”

You felt the quaking in your knees cease as he slowly jogged up the steps and took your hand before addressing your co-intern.

“Good evening,” you thought you heard a smile in Jongin’s voice, but his eyes were stern as he looked at your co-intern who seemed to finally get the idea.

“Good evening, I was just escorting her you know? Can’t be too careful,” he chuckled lightheartedly and you almost felt sorry for him but you knew better.

He’d been at it for weeks trying to pull you.

At first you genuinely thought he was walking you to your metro since you were new to this area of town.

And that’s what you told Jongin when he asked if you’d made friends in your program.

You thought he was being overbearing at first when he began to frown and ask more questions until you heard him verbalize the conclusion that you were afraid to realize.

“Mm, yea. An escort,” you blinked at the sudden growl in Jongin’s voice as he squared his shoulders.

Your co-intern’s face dropped as he too heard the change in Jongin’s voice.

“Well ehm…have a good one yea?” He ascended the steps not taking his eyes off of you and Jongin until he was out of sight.

“Mhm,” Jongin murmured, his eyes locked on his every move until he couldn’t see him any longer, before his gaze lowered to greet you.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he said, his tone once again warm.

“Me too! I…I’m sorry that I-” he shook his head, squeezing your hand gently as he turned to lead you to your metro.

“Let’s go,” he whispered.

“Try moving your lips like this…” You said puckering your own lips, hoping you were modeling it well for Jongin.

He focused sincerely on your lips and did his best to mimic your movements as he sat across from you on your living room couch in your flat.

He tried the unfamiliar sound for the umpteenth time and you laughed happily because it worked!

He clapped his hands, laughing too because he realized he had been successful.

“I’ll be able to greet all of the ambassadors well because of your help. I’m going to do this,” he cheered before settling down once again.

You’d been working for a little over a half hour just today and steadily meeting at least once a week outside of work responsibilities to tutor Jongin after dance class.

Due to your parents’ work connections, you’d picked up the German language enough to be conversational which came in handy considering Jongin was interested in learning the language. His rationale was that learning the language could help in proving himself capable and useful to Minseok.

“Ah you’re doing so well, Jongin!” You cheered him on hopping up to fetch the screaming tea kettle.

“Sugar? Milk? Honey?” You asked as you prepared two cups, one for him and one for you.

You heard Jongin groan aloud in response.

“Jongin?” You gasped turning from the steaming tea cups to find him wincing as he held his knees and calves.

“Are you alright? Jongin?” You asked reaching out to touch his hands where he gripped at his legs.

“I just get these spasms sometimes…especially after the workout we just had…it’ll pass…it’ll mmmmmmm,” he groaned, turning his head away from you to mask the extent of his discomfort.

“Maybe we should take a couple days off?” You suggested but he turned to you again to shake his head.

“No no. Really _____. I can handle it…it’s normal…I’ve dealt with this ever since I started training classically…it’s just how it is…” he assured you, even letting go of one of his knees to reach out for your hand.

You were flustered as you watched him try his best to remain sitting still, keeping his expression blank.

“I really like the Kizomba classes too, Jongin…but this is maybe the second time this week that we’ve been going that you-” Jongin shook his head again and you sighed.

With the Pathcodes in full swing, many of your colleagues were finding it difficult to balance work and their personal lives.

While you felt it wasn’t your place to pathologize the situations everyone was experiencing, Jongin made it clear to you that balance between his work life and personal life was something that he needed.

And now that his personal life included another person, he had said, it was very important for him to keep the lines of communication open while still maintaining space between the two.

And so began your Kizomba dates.

Which when Jongin first suggested them you were obviously shy about attending.

You’d never attended a dance class before and though you were no stranger to exercise this was another aspect altogether!

“It’ll be something for us, _____. Just for you and me, that’s separate from everything,” he said as he showed you the online brochure for the classes.

“Well…” just the idea of having something that belonged to you two alone had your ears burning.

But what made you flush all the more were sample videos you looked up on YouTube after Jongin left.

The outfits.

The couple’s stance.

The alluring sensuality.

Their gazes.

The delayed body rolls.

Could you move like that?

Could you wear that?

In front of Jongin?

The only time that you wore tighter fitting clothes was to jog or a business suit for work, but this…?

You weren’t sure where to shop for appropriate clothes even after perusing the online catalogues and how to videos.

You asked ______ (Lyon Reader) over text after your most recent conference call what she would recommend and she was ready to send you pieces from her own wardrobe.

“You can wear whatever makes you comfortable _____ but Kizomba is all about sensuality and sex appeal…so it does help to look the part,” You gulped at that.

You agonized over it for weeks until the fated first day of classes arrived.

Jongin had waited for you at the metro stop you usually got off at before you walked to the building together, Jongin in suede shoes while you wore ankle strap heels the extent of your outfits covered by your matching bombers.

When Jongin saw the first dress you’d bought, on recommendation from ______ (Lyon Reader) a low back sheath dress, he couldn’t lower his eyes fast enough to hide from you how much he appreciated this dress.

As the instructors, a young couple around you and Jongin’s ages gathered the larger class and led you through the foundational steps, you felt more and more comfortable as you looked around to see the styles worn by other women within the class.

You even felt slightly less embarrassed about the very suggestion of the array of backless dresses ______ (Lyon Reader) offered to you including the dress with the dangerously low plunging cowl neckline and the high slit that made it damn near impossible to cover your bum when you first tried it on.

You hung it carefully in the back of your closet, not sure if maybe one day you’d gain the courage to wear it in front of Jongin.

Sometimes you’d try it on, looking at yourself from numerous angles in the mirror as you practiced your steps.

And you noticed a change in you.

It was something your mother mentioned also.

“What’s happened?” She asked suddenly over your brunch only a couple weeks into you beginning classes.

“Hmm?” You blinked innocently but your mother gave you a knowing glance that unsettled you in your high back chair.

“You seem…different…are you…have you…?” She kept clearing her throat and dabbing at her lips.

You failed to cover your mouth before you sputtered out your soup.

“Dearest!” Your mother exclaimed, helping you to clean up and pat the tablecloth dry.

“I’m so sorry…I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling every inch of your body burning up.

“Darling…is that it…? Have you two…?” She persisted and you cleared your throat loudly as the wait staff hurried to help you both clear the table.

While you left your mother’s pestering question unanswered, you were plainly aware of what she was hinting at.

And while the answer to that question was no…it was also yes.

Through dance, Jongin had touched you, had held you, had looked at you, had embraced you, had spoken to you in ways he never had before.

And there was something about the passionate secret that only you two shared that made you stand up straighter.

You felt you had gained poise and a newfound understanding of how your body moved.

Running and training for marathons as you had in the past growing up had only tapped into one aspect of your physical conscience.

But dance, and dance with your….boyfriend?

That was new.

And something you cherished dearly.

And you could tell Jongin did too.

Which is why he was being so stubborn about continuing to go despite his pain.

“Jongin, I promise it would only be a couple days that we wouldn’t go…just until you’re feeling better,” you tried to persuade him now that the spasms had subsided and he lie back against your couch.

“Here, at least let me help you,” you said coaxing him up and pulling him close so that he could lean his weight on you as you helped him into your bedroom.

You felt Jongin’s steps stutter as you led him in.

“Jongin?”

His cheeks were flushed a dark rose as he looked at you and into your bedroom.

“I just..”

You blushed in tandem as you spoke up, “I didn’t mean…I just thought. You’d be more comfortable here. You could rest your back and legs better in bed than…I didn’t mean to…I’m not trying to…” the bashful way Jongin’s eyes held yours had you both in a fit of giggles.

There was something about the way his body trembled against you…but you persisted further into your bedroom until you helped him to recline against the headboard while you propped up the pillows behind him and helped him to settle further on top of your down comforter.

As you moved to stand, Jongin caught your hand but you patted his hand down back at his side.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” you said leaning down to kiss his forehead hearing his weighted exhale.

You hurried into your cupboard in the kitchen pushing some of the glass jars and bottles out of the way until you found the one you were searching for.

You lifted the medium size jar gently bringing it into your chest as you lowered yourself back down to the soles of your feet before hurrying back to where Jongin lie, the whisps of steam from tea cups circling around you as you went.

Jongin opened his eyes when he heard your footsteps approach and you held up the jar before setting it down on your nightstand.

“This is my mother’s salve, it’s a family recipe. I’ve used it since I was young and especially during university. When I first started training for marathons I realized that the ibuprofen I was using didn’t work as well as this salve. It seems like for generations in my family our knees, calves and legs have always been something that bothered us. So my mother taught me how to make this salve for muscles and ever since she taught me, I usually make a pretty large batch that lasts for a year or two. I keep it in jars like this and I have enough that I could gift you some?” Jongin lit up at the idea, sitting up quickly even as he winced so that he could see what you brought.

You hurried into your washroom to grab a spare jar and a small scoop that you usually used to spoon in handfuls of the salve at a time.

You unscrewed the cap on the jar and lifted it to Jongin’s nose.

He took a deep inhale, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he whispered, “wow that smells so…delicious.”

The humming bass in his voice made you blush as he complimented the soft, airy aroma of eucalyptus, chamomile and lavender.

“I could…if you’d like I could massage your knees for you? When my mum was pregnant with me her knees hurt pretty badly and so my grandmother made this salve for her and so did her mother and her mother and her mother. But the trick is that you don’t put a whole lot on. It’s just a tiny smidgeon of the salve that you use. You run a small bit into your hands, getting your hands warm and then you lay your hands over the area and really get in there you know..?” You said, not realizing that you’d already demonstrated the process and were laying your hands on Jongin’s bare knees where you had rolled up his joggers.

He chuckled as you pulled your hands back and reached for you to lay your hands on his knees, covering your hands with his.

“I’m at your mercy, _____,” he said lying back and gently letting your hands go.

“Just one more thing before I start,” you apologized, hurrying once again to your washroom for the roll of gauze you usually used for yourself.

You took a moment to prepare Jongin, unfurling the large roll and measuring about how much you’d need to wrap around his legs before elevating them as he rested.

Jongin watched you silently, keeping his hands at his sides.

And when your measurements were finished, and you’d tied your hair into bun, you started slowly, remembering the way your grandmother showed you how to touch someone who was in pain.

You feathered your fingers lightly around his kneecap, listening to Jongin’s breathing to know where the pain source was.

You blushed as you extended your reach all the way down to his ankles noticing the slight inhales which told you that while the touch genuinely hurt, the source was elsewhere.

You had halfway reached up to his mid thigh when you heard the sharp inhale and could feel the tenseness of his muscles.

You repositioned your body on the bed before Jongin, and slowly started adding pressure, gently kneading his muscles.

You heard Jongin give an open mouth aching sigh as you moved up and down from his lower mid thigh down to his ankles once and then again and again…the tone rising before lowering into a tone of peaceful relief until you switched to the next leg.

You went through the process one more time, listening to Jongin’s deeper inhalations that you began to mirror as the rate steadied.

“…” you had opened your mouth to speak as you lifted your eyes to him, but upon seeing the way he beheld you, you were speechless.

He had been on the brink of a moan from what you caught before his expression shifted.

His lower lip puckered against his teeth as he descended further into your pillows with another exhale.

“Are you? Are you alright?” You asked feeling the lick of flames spreading from where you touched his skin back into your hands, vibrating through you.

“Yes, yes I…I’m fine I..” he blinked, his always open, honest deep brown eyes shifting around the room before he allowed them to settle on the ceiling.

You looked back to his legs and began the last round, giving more weight to your movements now that he could sustain more of your touch.

As you worked the salve into his muscles, you felt your hair slipping from the bun atop your head but you remained consistent in your rhythm hearing a moan welling up in Jongin’s throat once again.

You felt the sweat dip down your back as you sat up, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your forearm, and gently lifting your hands from his ankles to gather up your hair and reposition yourself once more before you slipped off the bed.

You could feel the steady burn building up within your own muscles, and knew there was a glistening sheen spreading across your forehead.

You let a small breath escape your parted lips before assuming your position once more.

“Jongin-” you began as you looked up at him again and his expression had shifted as if he had lifted the curtain.

There was an ardent look in his eye, as if the sensual energy of his plaintive moans had spread from his chest to being expressed on his face.

It was a look you weren’t familiar with except…

In Kizomba.

Sometimes it was a certain song that came on.

Or a certain dress you wore.

And just for a split second.

Just for the sliver of a moment.

He would lift the veil.

And you saw him.

You saw the reserved part of him that you felt must be, had to be, just for you, when there were those moments, that you inspired something deeper, something carnal, something purely human in him.

And you knew it with your whole heart that this look was special.

It was apart from everything.

When he wanted to kiss you, there was also a certain look in his eye.

When he found you particularly endearing there was a certain way he would touch your hand.

If you were trying to tell him a joke to press past the tension of a moment, there was a certain way he’d hold his breath before laughing with full spirit.

And especially when you were overthinking a task or an idea, he would hold your gaze so that you stilled all thought and movement and took a deep breath yourself.

Without words oftentimes he would communicate everything and nothing at all.

But this…

To be in the full presence of such a look for the first time.

For him to not only lift the curtain but to pull it clean away.

“Oh my…oh my goodness…Jongin..” you blinked rapidly, stilling your hands against him.

Jongin sat up without wincing at all, the look receding deeper into his eyes as he apologized.

“I…I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to turn this into…i…”

“Oh but I wasn’t trying to…I…” you interjected, offering up your own apologies.

You lifted your hands from him, pressing the curling sweat slick wisps of hair back from your face as you pulled your top back into place.

There was a lengthy flustered moment of silence as you both allowed your breathing to settle.

Jongin pressed himself back against your pillows as he waited.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered from the depth of your pillows, pulling his legs up into his chest as he turned away from you.

“I’m sorry. Wait Jongin. Did I do something to make you uncomfortable? Are you in pain?” You asked to his retreating form.

He waited a beat before responding.

“I’m in the opposite of pain. I’m not in pain at all,” he murmured in a tone that sounded full of guilt.

“If there’s any pain that I feel it’s…I…I shouldn’t go on…” he stopped himself before he went on further.

“Let’s just read that book of poems you got from the library or watch a movie…I think I can make it to the living room,” he said as he lifted himself up though he kept his face turned.

But he couldn’t hide the scarlet of his neck.

“If you wrap me in the gauze, I should be alright.”

“Oh…oh well…if you’re ok?” You asked, waiting and almost willing him to say more.

You wanted to know more.

You kept your eyes on the gauze clippings you made as you moved your hands towards him but Jongin’s hands reaching for yours gave you the invitation you were looking for.

And he held you in that sincere gaze you were so used to seeking.

“I’m ok. Really. I just…I just…nothing…nothing..” he attempted a chuckle and you blew a raspberry, puckering your lips fully.

And as the heat that bloomed within your muscles and his began to subside, his laughter boomed loudly at your gesture.

LYON || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. “Are we only a violon d’Ingres?” Length - 4,759 Mood - disquieted, burdened Pairing - Baekhyun x Reader

Warning - Some sexual themes present

“When the deep night is coming to an end I fade like smoke I come back to you on dark nights With a dream” “She’s Dreaming” by EXO

November

“Can you hold my calls please? Yes. I will...yes please tell them I will call them back as soon as I return to the office. Yes the meeting for Fête des Lumières should be set for tomorrow...mhm...yes I expect you to be there...mhm I’ll be back. Merci au revoir…” you called into the receiver before the line clicked on the other end. Taking a deep inhale and a steady exhale, you tucked your cellphone into your inner leather blazer pocket and relaxed into the hard plastic of your tram seat with your eyes closed and waited for your stop to be announced.

But a sudden stirring within your blazer pocket, had your eyes open once again and unzipping your coat. 

“Will you still be able to make it?” Baekhyun had texted you.

You quickly responded, “on my way. Just had to push an appointment back. How is she doing?”

You bounced your knees as you waited to see the three dots appear on your screen letting you know that he was writing back.

They flashed for a moment before you were able to read his response. “You’d be so proud of her. She’s giving the therapist her attention and is listening. We’re talking now. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”

And he added a kiss emoji.

You sighed a breath of relief before pressing your slim phone back into your blazer pocket as the tram whirled through the center business district of Lyon, La Part-Dieu where your office was to the building just a couple blocks down.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Byun,” the speech therapist said as she rose from the floor where she was sitting with Yun Hee and your Baekhyun upon your entrance to therapist’s office.

From what the receptionist on the first floor said, your session was being held in the music therapist’s office which was directly across from the speech therapist’s office.

The little blue room had different instruments of all shapes and sizes neatly placed in bins along the wall. There were motivational posters and a musical scale placed on the wall as well.

You recognized the scale to be a C scale from your few but lengthy piano lessons with Baekhyun once upon a dream.

He had begun teaching Yun Hee too now that you’d purchased a baby grand. Well having little concerts for her, rather since she still hadn’t grasped the concept of “my turn, your turn.” 

It was always Yun Hee’s turn.

You were still a little out of breath after rushing up the flight of stairs to get to their session area.

Even with taking that moment to compose yourself before knocking and entering.

Baekhyun smiled a smile meant only for you the moment you appeared. 

Though you weren’t shy about kissing in public when greeting each other, a smile like the one he wore expressed the sentiment perfectly.

You smiled back at him letting your gaze linger for a moment before shifting as Yun Hee turned to see where her teacher had gone as she sat amid a xylophone, egg shakers, scarves, a bubble wand, and what appeared to be cards.

Her eyes lit up when she saw you standing there, and she promptly rose from where she sat, babbling as she reached her arms out to you, and headed in your direction, her hands grabbing fistfuls of air as she went as if she was pulling herself forward.

You were proud of the way your little trio looked.

Each of you wore a Supreme hoodie underneath a black leather jacket, dark jeans and Nike’s with some variations since you had just come from the office while Baekhyun was home with Yun Hee for today.

You were equally proud of Baekhyun that he dressed her just as you would have, with her little fairy tutu, as you called it at home, over her jeans.

You dropped to your knees and opened your arms to her, cheering her on, “come to maman!” 

Baekhyun watched from where he was cross legged on the ground, his eyes sparkling as he watched her go.

She faltered as she got closer, seeing Baekhyun in your peripheral view rising up to his knees to get her, but you caught her before she fell, whisking her up into the air and crying out, “oh! You did so well Yun Hee.”

She squealed open mouthed with delight, and you held her to your chest, kissing her head and cheeks, and hands.

“Maman vous a manqué,” you cooed against her hair, and she pressed kisses against your chin, her chubby hands reaching up to grab your cheeks to pull you closer.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the music therapist also greeted you from where she sat opposite Baekhyun.

You nodded to her, greeting her as well, “thank you so much for seeing us on such late notice. I apologize for being so late to her initial appointment. I will be able to bring her in the future and I will be on time,” you apologized immediately but both therapists shook their heads, smiling genuinely at you.

“We were just speaking with your partner about Yun Hee’s needs,” the music therapist shared.

“Jagi, I was telling them about the circumstances of her birth. Technically she is 18 months and while it’s still early to expect many words...we’ve noticed that she isn’t able to form words easily. She can...I guess I would put it that she can sing,” Baekhyun said looking down at Yun Hee who reached up to touch her father’s chin.

He turned his face into her palm, kissing her open hand.

She squealed happily, clapping her hands rapidly as she burst into a fit of giggles.

Baekhyun leaned over so that Yun Hee was looking up at him and seeing him upside down. 

You sighed as Yun Hee giggled louder until you heard Baekhyun quietly whisper to her, “내 작은 공주님, 조용히 들어주세요?”

You turned your head slightly to see Yun Hee mimicking her father’s pose, of holding one finger over both of his lips signaling that it was time to be quiet. Her eyes were wide as she watched her father and Baekhyun did his best to maintain a straight face, and set a good example though you could still be mischievous light in his eyes that he was giving every effort to restrain. 

He should have said that we are both on our best behavior, you laughed quietly to yourself but quickly covered it up by clearing your throat so as not to distract Yun Hee. 

Both therapists chuckled to themselves as they watched her and Baekhyun maintaining their poker faces before continuing.

“From what we can see, she has many gross motor and fine motor abilities which is wonderful. She recognizes her name and her parents. She understands directions and is able to identify some of her colors. She also does try to communicate in her own way as you’ve cited,” the speech therapist went on reaching out a hand to Yun Hee who grabbed on to her hand, her poker face long forgotten.

She stood from where she sat between you and Baekhyun and attempted to crawl across the small space on the padded floor to sit in the therapist’s lap but you picked her up immediately, bringing her to your lap.

“Yun Hee,” her father sang to her and she giggled as she looked up at him, putting her chubby pointer finger up to her lips.

You all laughed aloud at that.

“Yes, I’m baffled by what she understands and yet is still unable to do,” you said as Yun Hee wiggled from your lap and reached for her father who picked her up immediately.

He lifted her up in his arms, kissing her all over the way you had done. Yun Hee snuggled into his embrace, her eyes closed as she smiled and held close to her father’s neck. 

“Something I am curious about is whether you have decided to begin teaching her one language?” The music therapist asked, an answer that the speech therapist also appeared to want to hear.

You looked at Baekhyun who answered as he rocked Yun Hee who was starting to doze off.

“Well...from what we were reading that may be why there is an issue now. She hears both Korean and French at home. She is surrounded by both cultures. She has both a mémé and a halmoni. She also has an haraboji. Plus she has sam-chons from my side...I realize it will be more difficult for her…” Baekhyun bit his lip as he looked at you and you looked to both therapists who looked back at you both in a way that suggested you had nothing to feel bad about. “I realize that she may be confused because the way sounds and words are formed are different in both languages...is there something you would recommend to us?” You asked and the speech therapist spoke up.

“Well the literature does suggest that Yun Hee having a small vocabulary to begin with as she learns both languages, is very typical. Even while observing you now I can see that Baekhyun you speak both in French and Korean to Yun Hee while her mother speaks mostly French. As long as both parents are reading to Yun Hee, singing to her, talking with her and surrounding her with both languages, there is a chance she will grow to process both languages and be able to adequately use both. What is set against Yun Hee however is that she already exhibits some oral motor developmental delays...I think she has receptive language but I do not think she has strength in her mechanical expressive language which is quite different altogether,” the speech therapist mused as you all watched Yun Hee doze in her Appa’s lap.

“So what can we do at home to encourage her to make words instead of just sound?” You asked nervous that they would be unable to give you an answer. Yun Hee’s pediatric neurologist in Colorado Springs had recommended this specific Speech Language Therapist to further evaluate Yun Hee’s ongoing developmental needs as the clinic was a multidisciplinary clinic that housed physical therapists, occupational therapists, music therapists, art therapists, dance therapists and more through the week. And you hoped that by being inundated with multiple therapeutic disciplines, Yun Hee would begin to see progress. 

The therapist was right in observing her strengths and also her weaknesses. While she was a plump baby, you regretted that it wasn’t due to healthy feedings. 

As recommended by your pediatric neurologist and as also recommended by the Speech Language Therapist on the recommendations sheet you were reviewing as the session wrapped up, Yun Hee was on a very specific sensory diet to teach her how to use her mouth. 

Your mother and mother-in-law were patient with Yun Hee and her fussiness at meal time whenever they came to visit which relieved you and Baekhyun for nap time before heading back to work. 

“Whatever the physician says, follow it completely so she can get better. It’s hard now but Yun Hee will improve, you’ll see,” your mother said to you after tucking Yun Hee in for an afternoon nap just yesterday. 

Baekhyun thought the same and told you as much as you said your goodbyes to both therapists, made an appointment at the reception desk for the following therapy sessions, and carried a peaceful Yun Hee out. 

“Wait, mind her jacket,” you warned stopping Baekhyun who held Yun Hee in his arms before you walked through the doors. 

While he held her, you pulled her leather blazer, and hood up around her ears, and pulled her ear warmers down over the top of her ears. 

Baekhyun waited while you adjusted her and started bouncing his knees when Yun Hee started whimpering. 

“그건 내 공주 야. 아빠가 왔어,” he murmured against her temple as she snuffled and burrowed into his broad chest. 

“I can go home with you and make dinner and then…” you headed down the stairs ahead of them with Baekhyun trailing behind you carefully taking each step one at a time. 

“Yea that works because you need the car right?” Baekhyun asked as he caught up to you where you held the door open and took Yun Hee to put her in her car seat. 

Baekhyun hurried to the driver’s seat, his hair bouncing in the wind as he coasted around the SUV and hopped into the driver’s seat. 

“How are the preparations coming for the Festival of Lights?” Baekhyun asked, reaching for your hand once he pulled out of the parking spot and merged into traffic leaving the business district. 

You exhaled hotly.

Baekhyun squeezed your hand. 

“As much as I appreciate the Pathcodes, it’s hard to coordinate my regular schedule with community events like this. I’m looking forward to it but my stress level is mounting…” you pouted to Baekhyun and he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of each knuckle after intertwining your fingers. “It’s very stressful managing all of this. The Pathcodes, my broadcasting schedule, the house, Yun Hee’s appointments, it’s so much,” Baekhyun sighed, his tone mirroring your own. 

“Can we really do this..?” You wondered aloud feeling Baekhyun flinch. “We promised each other that we would try,” he answered and remained silent for the rest of the drive, with your hand in his. 

—————————————— “Ya Yun Hee, mon petit oiseau,” Baekhyun sang dispiritedly as Yun Hee wailed and refused to eat the sweet potatoes he offered to her. 

You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen with some help from your home staff and had returned downstairs to grab your clutch purse from the kitchen counter so you could head back to the office to wrap up your list of today’s leftover to-do’s. 

You stood at your stone island reapplying your lipstick using your compact, feeling Baekhyun’s eyes on you. 

You’d changed into your heeled boots and tighter jeans, and you wore one of Baekhyun’s button downs underneath your leather jacket with your favorite lace bandeau peeking out.

Closing your compact, you turned slightly over your shoulder to catch his enamored gaze. 

You smirked, biting your lip as you took your time placing your compact and lipstick back in your clutch before slowly making your way from the island counter to where Baekhyun sat with a frustrated Yun Hee. She was currently “painting” the tray of her high chair in a smooth smear of rustic sweet potato orange and singing to herself quietly “ahh ohhh ahh eee.”

“내 사랑은 ... 가야하니?” He whined as you leaned over Yun Hee to kiss Baekhyun after kissing Yun Hee goodbye. 

He held you around your waist and pulled you into his lap, his long nimble fingers gripping your thighs as he held you there.

“Ya jagi these are my favorite jeans,” he whispered into your neck, his hand delicately cupping the back of your head as he nibbled the skin just underneath your ear.

His other hand slid up your pant leg to wind around your waist and grip your bottom. 

He gave a satisfied grunt which made you blush as you curled into his embrace, lifting your legs until he could fully hold you on his lap. By bringing yourself closer to him though, he had full access to you. 

“Mm Baekhyun not in front of Yun Hee!” You moaned against his ear but he only nuzzled you back as he whispered, “you shouldn’t have sat down jagi.” “Baekhyun!” You gasped as he reached his hand that wasn’t supporting your behind to pull his button down apart where it was clasped at the center of your breastbone. 

“Say it again,” he murmured only for you to hear, his eyes drifting from yours to the skin he revealed above your bandeau. 

He parted his lips slightly, releasing a puff of hot air against your skin. 

You moaned at the sudden sensation and gripped his shoulders for balance. 

He breathed another hot puff of air before bringing his lips to your skin, giving you a soft kiss that gave way to sucking and nibbling. 

“Baekhyun,” you murmured actually pushing against his broad chest weakly. “I….I have. I...I have to g-go...oh!” You writhed against him, your fingers ascending up to the base of his neck and further to his substantial tangle of sleep untidy locks. 

You felt him smiling against you and leaning backwards after he kissed your open panting lips and shifted so that you’d have to stand. 

You twisted in your stance, frustrated that his titillation ended without complete fulfillment and also in slight embarrassment because you were sure that the staff were just in the other room. 

But Baekhyun’s blazing smile eradicated all other thoughts. 

“Now you can go safely jagi,” he murmured, licking his lips as he watched you finger your blooming, puffy, aching love bite. 

“This will protect me hm?” You asked hearing Yun Hee vocalizing quietly to herself as she slapped the tray. 

“It protects my heart...which you have and it wards off all evil. I can’t be too careful...especially with you going out looking like that…” he bit his lip, dragging his teeth as he drawled the extent of his phrase, his eyes scaling you. 

“Oh my King,” you whispered closing your eyes as you leaned forward to kiss him once more enjoying the wet pop your lips made as they released each other. 

“Mm jagi…” he murmured, his tone rising as you pressed a chaste kiss against his neck allowing him to inhale your perfume once again before stepping away giving him full view of your backside as you went. 

“I’ll be back later…” you called hearing Yun Hee sing you out. “Ahh ahh!” The drive back from the office was quick in the twilight hours of the morning but every minute seemed to last an hour until you were pulling into your drive. After gathering your clutch you hurried to the front door, fishing for your keys as you flew up the steps turning once to wave at your groundskeeper as he welcomed you home. 

“Your violon d’Ingres has to be the way you reflect the light of the sun no matter the time of day. Une merveille! Même les iris tremblent et vous saluent!” He exclaimed from the iris bulbs he had been looking after. 

You and Baekhyun had decided to employ staff to help maintain the grounds and your home throughout the week. 

The day staff consisting of a butler and a nursemaid came from 10am to 4pm during the days when both you and Baekhyun were home with Yun Hee. Your butler, an older woman who took tremendous pride in maintaining your home, extended her time overnight when either yourself or Baekhyun were away. It was still difficult getting used to having people around when you were so used to the tranquil universe of your flat.

Sometimes when you stayed out too late to drive home, you took a bus back to your old place for which you still held the key, leaving your car at the office. You’d send Baekhyun a text to let him know where you were and he would face time you immediately as you trudged up the steps.

“Ya jagi it’s dangerous going alone at night. Couldn’t you have come home earlier?” He would complain but the moment you were in the door and lying on your old bed, he would lie down as well and whisper, “Yun Hee and I will miss you this morning. Come home safely for breakfast jagi,” he’d purr into the phone and you’d blow kisses at each other before propping the phone up on your pillows as you drifted off to sleep together.

Those trips out to your old flat didn’t happen as often now that you’d hired your former intern for a full time position as well as another intern.

You three made quite the team and it couldn’t have happened at a better time with the way Pathcodes was soon to expand once again in celebration of its successive second year.

“Baekhyun…” you called as you passed through tour tranquil foyer upon closing the front doors behind you. 

Sometimes he was awake in the kitchen having breakfast with your butler and nursemaid, chatting them up while they waited for Yun Hee to wake up. Other times he was on the phone with Jongdae as he prepared to fly out once more.

But when you went deeper into your home you saw that he was still sleeping. “So much for finishing what we started,” you sighed to yourself as you peeled off your jeans and shrugged out of your leather jacket.

You kept on the bandeau, and pulled on your robe and a pair of his Supreme sweatpants he had been wearing when you left before ducking back out of your bedroom to let him rest. Tiptoeing lightly, you hurried down the hall to Yun Hee’s suite.

“Good morning my sweet baby,” you whispered as you brought your daughter to your chest.

She squirmed in your arms, her thick arms and legs wriggling against as she shifted so that she could see your face. You bounced a little as you cooed and smiled at her, blowing wet raspberries against her dewy plump cheeks, delighting in the way she squealed aloud.

Her eyes dancing with the light of her father’s, she urged herself forward pulling at the soft fabric of your open robe so that she could kiss your cheek.

“Thank you my sweet baby, thank you,” you whispered snuggling her close, feeling her soft puffs of air against your cheek, as you stopped swaying from side to side to stand in place.

The light of the rising sun illuminated your tranquil scene. 

It shone on you and your precious baby girl, enveloping you in a warm beam of light as you both stood quietly holding each other close giggling as she continued to try to give you wet kisses.

Ever since you arrived at what Baekhyun proudly called “your manor” you spent each morning sunning with your little princess, relishing the bonding time spent more and more without your tiny girl needing her oxygen tank.

But you couldn’t bear to throw the tank away, just in case.

Just in case.

The long term projection of her safety and holistic health was never far from your thoughts. Each new tidbit of diagnostic information plagued your thoughts when you laid her down to sleep each night.

Baekhyun teased you jokingly but you knew he was slowly beginning to worry about the sudden strictness of your diet and cleaning routine when you weren’t fully invested in work or engaged with Yun Hee.

While you hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, you felt that it was your fault.

There was something you hadn’t done right.

You didn’t exercise enough.

You didn’t mind your vitamins.

You had been too carefree during your pregnancy.

And look at what you had done.

Look at your sweet baby girl.

“I’m just trying to lose the baby weight,” you’d say as he whined about your gradual slimming down. 

“Ya, but jagiya...” Baekhyun would occasionally protest, seizing hold of your waist when you were finally still, naked except for your silken panties you wore for him that Baekhyun gifted to you some time ago during that same weekend of his birthday when you first arrived at the house.

“Baekhyun it's your birthday...why are you suddenly giving me a gift?” You asked, very suspicious of the smirk he gave which was quiet on his lips as if the gesture required no explanation. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know jagi,” his eyes teased as he stood for a moment more taking you in as you held up the silken undergarments with the tips of your fingers.

He languidly moved from his post against your closed bedroom door, approaching you as if he was primed to pounce at any moment.

Unconsciously you braced yourself against the edge of the sink, hearing the slight crunch and crinkle of the wrapping paper and gift bag from which the silken panties had been unearthed.

Baekhyun moved in front of you, pressing his cheek against yours as he pressed his lips to the curve of your ear so he spoke directly into the canal.

You gasped at his hands that caught your thighs, the pads of his fingers pressing themselves against your skin and then relieving you of the pressure. The steady pulse of his touch making your heart race.

Your lips remained apart in surprise as he glided his open palms against your bare skin feeling every goose bump rise as if propelling his path upwards until he met your plump bum. 

“It's my present to me. It's my birthday and I want cake...” You moaned as he squeezed the supple mass, pressing his nails delicately into the skin.The same whine you emitted at his purposeful touch he too echoed as he watched you from behind...the burning light of his eyes ensnaring your gaze in the vanity mirror as he lowered himself until his face met your posterior.

You flushed as he slid his palms along your hips, pulling you back so that he could press his nose against the downy soft skin.

He took in a sharp primal inhale of air between his teeth, opening his mouth slightly after licking his lips. 

“Jagiya, I like my cake like this,” he murmured kissing your right cheek fully.

You tittered at the string of spittle connecting his lips to your bare bum.

But Baekhyun didn’t even wipe his mouth.

He let his eyes glide slowly between focusing on yours to sliding down the curve of your spine until they rested back on your bum.

You felt your knees give slightly as he opened his mouth against your skin, his teeth grazing you territorially.

You gasped in sudden exasperated want, the central nerve between the tops of your thighs spreading its signal to every nerve along your spine. You felt him everywhere and from everywhere. And though it was delicious it was terribly frustrating as you wanted to concentrate solely on the way he was suddenly pressing his teeth into you claiming you, again.

Mind over matter.

“This is mine,” he growled against you and you nodded into the air above and around you thankful for the firm planting of your feet beneath you. 

If he went on, and he would, you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer.

But even in the eventual bliss that followed that moment it did nothing to assuage the growing dread that you felt growing inside your gut.

You couldn’t push it aside even as Baekhyun consumed your senses.

You realized as he came into you, as he expertly tapped into every nerve, humming with you and goading you on, not ceasing his assault until you were both thoroughly delivered, spent, panting, and crying, that he wanted you to exist in a perpetual state of domestic bliss.

He wanted you to be alone with him when you were in your sacred place.

Grinning, wildly from ear to ear or purring quietly as a cat.

He wanted your home to be a sanctuary.

He wanted your laughter.

Your smiles.

No more worry.

No more fear.

And you obliged him.

You were his sunshine in the daytime hours and when his eyes were closed, you went into your twilight.

You remained there alone, petrified as you watched every horrible possibility flash before your stricken eyes.

Baekhyun’s soft puling and whimpering which used to sound so close was now so far away.

As if he existed in another universe, as if your body remained with him and you traveled into your own solitary purgatory.

When you returned to him in the morning you were exhausted and sometimes slightly envious of the carefree slack of his jaw as he whispered, “good morning.”

Was it still good?

You couldn’t know until you found her blinking happily up at you just as her father did.

It was almost as if she was echoing him, “good morning”

ARIZONA || PATHCODES VOL. II

ACT I. Amicus curiae Length - 6502 Mood - Lament, Remorse Pairing - Chanyeol x Reader

Warning - Language 

“When I close my eyes Slow it’s your voice again Your breath, your smile touch me again On my lips Flow your name again I’m holding it so full, I run as fast as possible like I’m gonna explode”

“I Just” by Red Velvet - ——————————–

October

“Don’t just leave me here waiting and never come back,” you said the last time you saw him.

In the twilight he was with you and in the morn you saw his beam of ghost light, obliterating what had been shadows.

In the darkness, he returned to you, gentle and shy.

And at first light he was cold and rough once more.

Had you dreamed him?

Had you dreamed his smile?

Had you dreamed his laugh?

Had you dreamed his voice?

It was so beautiful to imagine him sleeping.

Curled into himself around his own heart, waiting for you to find him once again in dreamland.

Sleeping deeply within your womb where he first came to be.

It was so beautiful to imagine him sleeping within you, also.

Resting inside your heart, breathing his reviving breath of fire into you and restarting the electric mechanism of your heart beat when you felt yourself giving up.

“So did you speak with him?” Your lawyer asked you as soon as you sat down for lunch on the terrace just outside his office.

Well gee.

“Yes I spoke with him,” you answered, shuffling notes that you kept as the proceedings were soon to begin.

After each meeting you typed the notes up neatly until slim stacks of graying notes with frayed edges had grown inside your room resembling a small dismal forest.

You had half a mind to recycle them so they wouldn’t take over the floor space, blocking your path from the window.

But at night when you couldn’t sleep or when they returned to you but refused to stay, you woke and reached with your eyes closed for the top page of the stack right beside your bed, and read the notes once again.

Picking up one page and placing it atop your bare skin, until the stack pressed its weight against your stomach making your breath labored.

But it was the only way to feel.

To remember what it had been like.

You let them rest there until your fight or flight response kicked in and you had to push the papers off of you hearing their slight flutter before they crashed to the floor.

And then you’d get up like you did this morning and put them back in order, taking a small stack with you to your next meeting to begin the routine once again.

“And?” He asked pointedly, pausing to unfold his napkin and place it gingerly on his lap.

You sighed again.

Did he really think that you would be sitting here alone, if anything changed?

Why was this man recommended to me?

“He said he has to speak with-”

“His people. Figures. Damn it. You need another witness other than your best friend and the owner of the lounge. The more angles we can add to your character profile, the better we can defend your initial claim…” he cut in as he sliced through his rare steak.

You averted your eyes as the blood spurted from his lips, and dripped down his chin.

He carried on for a moment, gnashing his teeth, and slurping unabashedly his wine before he spoke again.

“What does he want? Could you smooth things over? I remember you telling me that you hadn’t talked in awhile…” his gaze was fixed on you even as he brought another forkful of steak, and asparagus to his mouth.

“He doesn’t want anything…” and he smirked at you as if you were purposefully withholding the truth.

How dare you…

“Oh he doesn’t? Well…maybe you could find something to interest him-”

You popped up from the table immediately to slap him across the face but he grabbed your wrist.

“Listen. We’re desperate right now. Your sister’s sudden blabbering blubbering insanity fucking defense is going to put your ass in jail or a fucking needle in your arm. This isn’t a game. You say that those texts from your ex were fabricated but so far we aren’t able to counteract it. We need him. You need to figure it out. And quickly,” he had gradually released his terse grip but the clasp of his hand on your wrist remained as absolutely firm as shackles, his eyes boring into your own to make his message clear.

And you hated that there were tears in your eyes.

But he was right.

Your best friend had said the same when she came to bring you dinner again a few days earlier in the past week.

“You could at least eat the corner pieces of the lasagna I brought. To not even eat the corners is a waste of all my time and energy,” she had frowned in an attempt to pull your laughter from your gut.

You obliged her with a curt smile since the small middle portion you took from her 13”/9” pan had been plenty satisfying until you threw up.

She waited another beat before speaking again.

“So nothing still huh?” She asked as she cleaned the counter tops down and washed the dishes.

“No Susie Q, nothing still,” you mimicked her purposeful bright nasal tone hearing a laugh fall out of her as she returned to her normal speaking voice.

“Wow…what is his deal? Where was the guy who….” she stopped when you shook your head, placing your hands up in front of your shattering face.

You couldn’t hear her drop everything and rush to you. It was if everything was muted.

She wrapped herself around you where you sat at the kitchen island, helping you up to the couch only a couple steps away where you descended, sinking as deep as you could.

“I don’t even know what to say…” she whispered as you cried but you snuffled and sucked in enough air to say, “I’m not asking anyone to say anything except the truth. How…how is the truth so hard to say?”

“I don’t know…” she sighed, cuddling you while she held your hand in hers.

“I’m sorry ________,” she whispered and you sucked in another painful breath of air.

“The worst part is that I dream about the night before everything changed. Remember? We had just hung up and I was putting the baby to bed and you kept teasing me saying that I should just hop on a flight…that I could be there in the morning and that…” you couldn’t speak his name but you could see him.

You could feel him.

Pressing down on your stomach again.

Here I am Mommy!

Peekaboo.

“And that….he would sleep through the whole flight and by the afternoon you could be with him…and it would be like Christmas morning a couple days earlier…remember you teased me about buying a ticket? Remember?” And she hushed you, holding your hand to her own heart.

Reach inside and have some of my strength.

“And now…?” You laughed at yourself derisively.

“I’m not trying to scare you…” your lawyer said as he let you go and went back to tearing apart his steak on the terrace floor of his office.

“And I’m not trying be crass…but I need you to take this seriously. If you hadn’t talked to him yet or if you have and he’s dicking you around…then grab hold of him and demand a fucking answer. Your life depends on it,” he exhaled and belched loudly, before picking his teeth and resuming his routine while looking over his notebook.

You were unceremoniously dismissed.

As soon as you hopped into your car, you called him once again only to get his voicemail.

Even when you called him at his extension.

Could he be that busy?

It was overwhelming enough that your lawyer was chewing you out for failing to get this last piece of testimony that you needed.

Your lawyer hadn’t been able to get through to his people either.

But for him to not respond now?

Of all the times.

Focus on your breathing, you reminded yourself again as you took some deep breaths before putting your car in drive and heading in his direction.

————————————–

“Hey _______,” MQ gave you that look again.

Pitiful.

“Hey…look I know I just called but I just wanted to be sure. I need to know,” you said, standing up straight and looking him in the eye.

Yea I may be but I won’t give up.

It was too hot but you would wait.

He sighed again, scratching the back of his bleached blonde hair underneath his ball cap.

“Well…he’s working on a project right now. I can see if he has a moment-”

“I can wait outside,” you said once again, stepping down from the entrance he was standing in.

He nodded, wincing a little as he closed the door.

You sat at the front step, going through your list of things to do in your head again before you heard the door click.

You turned, and readied yourself to greet him.

And when you laid eyes on him again it was like years had passed between you.

He smiled at you as he always had but it was as if you were looking at a photograph. As if you captured this moment so many decades ago and were turning to this fond memory once again for old times sake, fondling it’s curling crinkled edges before putting it between the sleeves of time that you would return to when you were feeling that aching nostalgic feeling again.

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away…

“Hey _______, you can come in. It’s cold out here,” he said waving you inside.

You hesitated for a moment but only a moment.

“Thank you. I didn’t want to disturb you,” you smiled appreciative that he stood back to let you inside. You could feel the heat of him roiling around you even at this distance.

And to deny that you missed him was a fool’s errand.

But you didn’t have to succumb to it.

This time.

Like last time.

Next time.

Or ever.

There were much heavier pains on your heart nowadays anyway.

He brought you further into the studio, and you let your eyes linger here and there as you trailed closed behind him remembering when you finally came to see what he had built the first time you came to ask for his help.

He hadn’t been galloping to get into the conference room then.

He had taken his time walking you through each part his living heart.

As soon as you were within the door, he closed it and you didn’t waste time either.

The design of this room always reminded you of a modern counselor’s office.

And the design of this room was unlike any other you had seen during your initial tour with its light pewter white furniture and bare open space.

Chanyeol stood before you with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his crisp black slacks; the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up to reveal his veiny forearms.

It looked like he had been wearing a tie earlier and had discarded it when he began working in the studio.

Though the general atmosphere of Metamorphosis was subdued, you could hear the rising and falling of voices sounding from the deeper recesses of the building.

Perhaps there was an important meeting taking place with an important client that you had called him away from?

The possibility of disturbing his productive space did trouble you but your resolve was firm nonetheless.

Please…please just give me a straight answer and I’ll go…

Please.

He stood watching you, waiting for you to speak.

His small smile which initially appeared warm when he first invited you in just minutes ago began to seem uncertain if not worried in the silence punctuated by every soundless breath you both took as you stood by the doorway.

He removed one hand from the pocket of his slacks, revealing the tattoo that graced his right forearm as he gestured towards the opposing sofa where you could sit.

“Please,” he barely spoke above a whisper and yet you moved as if you were summoned by a booming command, sitting down as gently and quietly as you could.

“Have you had a chance to speak with Minseok?” You asked, your tone matter of fact, and his smile fell immediately.

But you couldn’t be sure whether he had wanted to play a game of “hey let’s catch up” or if he just didn’t want to answer you yet.

Had he been avoiding your phone calls just to lure you back?

As if he needed to do that.

Ha, ha.

“I spoke to him,” was all he said sounding thoroughly unamused before sitting on the sofa himself, crossing one leg over the over and dipping his head back against the back of the chair.

That chair, like him, was one of the biggest things in this room.

But the cavern between you took the first prize.

What a difference time makes.

“I know that I’m asking a lot of you. I know what you’re risking. But I need your help. Chanyeol please-”

You saw a slight smirk crease his lips as he tipped his chin down and lowered his gaze to you.

“I’m sorry is something funny?” You asked, feeling the heat rising within your cheeks.

“It’s just all so familiar but I’m pretty sure I’ve only lived this one life. Am I dreaming..” he laughed at his own joke.

“Chanyeol…”

He nodded, shaking his head into his hands.

“I know…I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said peering up at you, searching for your pain even though you knew it was plain to see.

If it colored the very green of the grass and bluish white of your sky, the pain had to be in your eyes, didn’t it?

How could he not see?

“So can you? I need to know…now…” you said, and were sickened by the smirk resurfacing once again.

“Chanyeol…”

“So now you can make demands. Now there is something about me that you want and need?” He asked, taking his time with the syllable of each word.

You weighed the pros and cons of crossing the room and slapping him across the face or just walking out.

“Listen…”

“Oh I’m listening, I’m listening _______,” he whispered, looking up at you from where he sat, his chin anchored atop his folded hands and crossed legs.

“Don’t fuck with me Chanyeol. Just tell me no, if that’s the answer,” you started but he started laughing aloud then.

“Ugh fuck this…” you groaned turning to speed out the door and back to your empty room with your empty crib beside your empty desk with your empty page of trustworthy witnesses.

You made it to the door just as he pressed it closed.

And whirled on him, raising your hand to smack him.

But he caught you as you were bringing your hand up and pinned you against the wall.

“I needed you too…” was all he said and all you didn’t want to hear.

“We’ve been over this already,” you grunted, pushing yourself forward so as to set him off balance.

You were both panting wildly.

Chanyeol pushed his hair back along his forehead, his nostrils flared as he blew out a steady stream of hot air.

“I can’t help you this time and it’s not because I don’t want to…” he whispered more to himself than to you.

Is that your final answer?

You lost your footing, crumpling to the floor like a rag doll.

But he caught you as you descended, crashing with you on the floor.

But you pushed him away, and waited for his explanation that was sure to follow.

“I can’t put everyone at risk like I used to,” he said but then looked at you like he forgot that he wasn’t alone.

You’ve had your time to rehearse.

It’s showtime!

Show me what you’re made of!

“That’s low,” you glared at him even as you saw the apology in his eyes.

But is it?

“But I did. I am being strongly advised to provide you a written statement at the most. It’s out of my hands,” he murmured and you couldn’t stop the tears then.

It had been months since you buried Darcy within a closed casket.

It had been months since the start of the trial to bring your sister to justice.

It had been weeks since she had suddenly mounted an insanity defense, brazenly claiming one day that you and your ex had set her up.

That he sent her texts after your son was gone that you two had planned your mother’s death, and were going to cash in on the life insurance policy that would erase your debts and take care of your son.

You had been without air since your baby breathed his last breath but her claim and the flash of those fabricated text messages across the projector screen within the court room sucked the remaining oxygen from your blood.

You had been running around since then begging for a pure source of air somewhere, anywhere.

To have lost everything the moment his soul left this place was to have lost every sense of direction.

But it wasn’t out of Chanyeol’s hands.

Of that you were sure.

In that moment, as you looked at him you believed that he refused to make a decision.

He couldn’t risk his studio.

He couldn’t risk his artists’ reputation nor his own.

He couldn’t risk the bustling empire he was part of and the colleagues he would be letting down.

Colleagues, listen to you tell it.

His family.

Family.

One plus one plus one could have made…

He couldn’t risk walking away from you either.

He couldn’t risk losing what little of the memory there was of what had been.

You wondered if he heard you like you heard him.

Echoing from the faded photographs spinning in and out of focus.

His moans.

His sighs.

His laughter.

His smiles.

His silence.

His anger.

You heard his voice when closed your eyes between the stillness of your apartment singing to your baby as he put him to sleep that Thanksgiving.

He had stayed behind for Chuseok and Thanksgiving that year just for you.

Just for what you thought you had been building.

The promise of it so sweet and palpable that he had risked it all for once upon a time.

Now you stood in your forest of barren memories watching his receding back, howling after him, and willing him to stay.

And though it hurt you to admit it, you were angry because you knew why he laughed and smirked as you pleaded with him now.

What a monstrous pair.

You smelled the fumes of paranoia in your own hair.

The whole damned thing was maddening.

“Why did I even come here?” You pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, pressing your lids closed, forbidding yourself to whimper aloud.

You were both speaking to the lone souls within you that refused to acknowledge the soul within the same space.

He didn’t touch you but you felt the heat of his soul and his intent hovering around you, haunting you now in the present as he did in the aching absence.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered suddenly, leaning closer.

How?

Why closer?

And just as you looked up at him, just as he looked back into your blood red eyes through his own, just as you shifted closer, the door opened.

“I’m so sorry,” MQ stumbled in headfirst as if on a mission.

And the moment was gone.

Your souls spiraled from that meeting place.

The piercing wind of reality slicing through the forest of the barren tearing asunder what was.

You leaned away, shock slowly registering at the sight of Chanyeol wiping his eyes discreetly.

“We heard a crash. I wanted to make sure you guys were ok,” he apologized though he didn’t back out once he realized you had just collapsed on the floor and Chanyeol broke your fall.

“We?” Chanyeol chuckled to cover up his sniffling as another person entered the room.

She moved towards you both purposefully, bringing tissues and a water bottle for each of you.

Though she didn’t avoid your eyes, she didn’t let her gaze linger long.

She helped you up first, reaching for you, and giving you her hands to hold.

“Are you ok?” She asked you and when you nodded, taking the tissues and the water from her that she offered, she looked over at Chanyeol.

You were surprised at the sudden look of embarrassment on his face.

The way he brushed himself off and stood up as soon as her eyes touched him.

There was a world far far away where he existed now.

Of that you were entirely, and painfully aware.

And Chanyeol turned to look at you as if reaching back once again for the memories to explain them to one another.

To place them on the same table of consideration.

“We were just-”

“I was just-”

You both stopped.

“I’ve already sent the client home. We got the sample we need. They’re already scheduled to come back tomorrow. If you need to take a minute…then take it. By all means honestly. We can give you some privacy. We were just worried when we heard the crash,” she said.

Her tone was matter of fact but not without a hint of care.

You felt that in some way or another while he had never spoken about her to you, he had spoken about you to her.

Her eyes didn’t question who you were or why you were here.

She didn’t appear to be seeking an explanation from Chanyeol at all about why he had taken so long.

If anything she seemed intent on translating to Chanyeol that he needed to finish what was happening thoroughly and head back to work once he collected himself.

Chanyeol seemed unnerved by her presence, his previous unreserved cockiness had dwindled significantly.

It wasn���t that he cowered.

He stood erect as if to measure up to her expectations.

You recognized that searching, considerate gaze in his eyes.

That puppy dog need for approval.

So that’s it then?

But to you she didn’t look like…

But then again neither did you.

You stood with the bottle of water in your hands after stuffing a wad of tissues into your purse.

Leave now the way you should have left a long time ago.

But had you left then, would you have experienced the miracle of childbirth?

Would you have known such a sweet baby?

Would you have come to know him for however fleeting a moment it had been?

“I understand that I may have to accept a written statement. If that’s what you’re comfortable with then I’ll just have to ask my lawyer to be reasonable…” you said in front of all three of them.

You had no doubt that even if they hadn’t been listening on the other side of the door that they already knew what this meeting was about by the way she and MQ nodded.

And despite that you knew they had still been listening.

Or else why specifically bring water bottles and tissues?

For a crash wouldn’t you bring something else?

Chanyeol stood to acknowledge you.

“I’ll have it sent straight away,” he nodded and you could feel the energy passing over you to it’s intended source.

Even if she wasn’t his, he was molded by her the way you had molded him.

He shifted and shaped himself to accommodate you and what you envisioned him to be until all your modifications broke him.

And you were sorry for that.

And you hoped he knew as much.

That you didn’t blame him for stepping back and making a wide berth for the sour stench of guilt you paraded around now, waving it like the white flag of defeat that it was.

Mercy, Chanyeol.

Mercy.

Forgive me.

“I’ll walk you to-”

“Thank you for your time. Have a good evening,” pulling your pieces together, you mirrored Chanyeol’s icy smile.

MQ made to walk you down the hall but you shook your head at MQ, and set off on your own, straight for the door, holding the bottle of water like a spear.

You would just have to get ready for the storm to hit.

“Why are you looking at me like that? ________?” He asked you again.

You focused on the nachos you were chomping on before taking a sip of wine.

He was guilty of so many things and he wouldn’t acknowledge those.

Time and time and time again.

He would just give you that little knowing smile of his and that would be the end of it.

But this…this was a first.

It had only been a couple hours earlier in the afternoon that MQ interrupted your studio session to grab Chanyeol once again.

He whispered to him discreetly but Chanyeol still turned to him in horror that he would have the gall to whisper it in your presence.

And the whole parade of it, pissed you off.

“Why am I looking at you like what? Why am I looking through you?” You asked and he groaned, tossing back the last of his beer before standing to chuck it in the waste bin.

You had been helping him reorganize his session documentation for the last two hours after his visitor left and he hadn’t been able to sit still since she’d gone.

It was infuriating that even with so much knowledge and talent that he kept falling into the same cycle.

It was like he wanted to live this kind of trauma everyday. As if he thought he had to bear tragedy within his own life to be considered a legitimate artist.

Well here’s to living!

He’d been trying to tease you and refocus the conversation on the unspoken moment that happened between you all those years ago.

But you wouldn’t let him.

No matter what pain he was trying to escape, you were not going to allow him to hop from one stalled cycle to yours.

He had to grieve.

And he would learn to do it.

Just like you did.

“I can’t believe that you’re going to sit here and lie to her face about ‘Minseok says this and Minseok says that.’ I mean do you really think Minseok follows his own fucking rules that he sets for his employees?! How the fuck would he be so successful if he did? The rest of them fall in line so he can do what he needs to do…shit it’s probably written in their fucking contract,” you snapped and Chanyeol had the absolute nerve to look upset.

“Ok but everyone-”

“Oh please! Please tell me how it would affect everyone else Chanyeol. I’d love to hear how now out of all the times you’ve abandoned MQ to go sit with her that suddenly ‘everyone else.’” He was getting angrier by the second but you wanted him to explode. You were well barricaded and prepared for his implosion.

Better for him to make a mess of himself now than when shit really started hitting the fan.

He would be better for it if he just came to terms with himself and got over it.

“What the fuck is your problem?! You fucking waltzed in there talking about some… ‘well if you need anything, here I can help.’ As if you were fucking Mother Teresa incarnate. Like give me a fucking break,” he thundered and roared at you and you braced yourself as you raised up at him.

You heard MQ powering down the hallway outside your door for the front entrance.

Though it was faint you heard his clear “I’ll be back!” on his way out.

“I am tired of your games Chanyeol. You know good and well that it’s time for you to take ownership and not when someone has run you dry…”

“Oh you’re one to talk…” he started but you finished him with a glare.

“Don’t you ever fucking try it with me. You have never not once ever gone through something like that. You have always had support. Always. You have never had to look anywhere for it. It’s all around you. Everywhere you fucking look there’s a hand held out to you. But you keep looking for these closed, bolted doors. You like breaking down walls. You like shattering locks and boundaries. What you don’t like is finding that you aren’t welcome to take a sample for reference. What you don’t like is not being prepared for the crippling pain of the soul inside…”

“Pain? You’re finally going to talk about pain? Why don’t we put it out there then…” he glowered at you, his eyes red rimmed and piercing.

“I’m not playing ring around the Rosie with you so drop the bullshit and make a fucking decision by your fucking self for once!” You cried as loud as the thunder and lightening that distorted his features.

He cried silently, looking away from you and back at the scratch pad he’d been doodling on for the last hour.

“We had a moment Chanyeol…a moment,” you whispered.

“We had an eternity in that moment. You want to talk about me and how I love barging in unannounced and suddenly and you aren’t wrong but you love to disappear before-,” he began, sniffling disgruntedly.

“I don’t belong to you because you fucked me once,” you seethed, cutting in tersely.

“You don’t belong to anyone. I didn’t forget,” he snapped back.

How could you imagine the crackle pop of fire and brimstone erupting from his mouth?

“You don’t even understand love. You don’t even understand us Chanyeol. You don’t even understand what a soul mate is,” you spat and he gasped at the word.

“Be honest Yeol…do you really see me making school lunches the night before wearing your hoodies with baby’s slobber on my cheeks with my breasts leaking into the fabric of my best blouses with all my un-spilled milk? I’m not doing PTA meetings and I’m not doing soccer practice. I don’t see myself trading in plane tickets for a minivan…”

“I’m not asking you to marry me..”

“I’m not letting you plaster me to your studio wall and fuck me on your latest baby grand either…we have electric creative chemistry. Let’s actually use it and not use it for an excuse to fuck…besides what’s the deal with her..?”

“She needs someone to help her out…she’s had a tough time-”

“Then help her Chanyeol…don’t confuse that with a night in bed…”

“Why are you lecturing me..? Just because he-”

“Didn’t I tell you to not even go there. You know better….I told you everything you need to know but not so you can take it out on me…from what you said about her you also have pretty good creative chemistry…why are you wasting your time fucking someone instead of getting work done. If you’re lonely get another pet Chanyeol…”

“I don’t want a pet damn you…I want love _______. I see all of my friends meeting someone and finding happiness and I love that they’re happy…but I want to have it all like some of them do…like Baekhyun and Kyungsoo-”

“Did you also happen to notice with those big all seeing eyes and all knowing ears of yours that they don’t shit where they eat? Maybe that’s your problem..?”

“And how well did that work out for you? He didn’t support-“

"What did I say? Don’t be an asshole because I’m telling the truth. That’s low. Grow a fucking pair and stop scoping these seedy bars you’re playing in and find a hobby outdoors in the daylight not on a field with a bunch of street admirers and really connect with someone…”

“But I want someone…I want someone who gets me______. I want someone who gets what I’m about. Not some hipster who is here for the aesthetic or some fan girl. I want to share space with another artist. I want to be with someone who fuels my vision. I want to be with someone who will be….ugh” and then he was in tears again, tears of rage.

"It’s so frustrating to be this passionate and this lonely _______” he mumbled into his forearms in an absolutely exhausted tone.

"Is that why you were willing to play Dad to that little boy…?” The look on his face when you said that told you that he wasn’t ready to think of him but you couldn’t wait anymore.

“I wasn’t playing at-”

“Chanyeol you basically just told me that you were desperate-“

“Can you please stop trying to….level me. I know I shouldn’t have….I know. But she’s a nice girl. She really is…”

“She was falling in love with you. Now what are you going to do..?“

“It’s not like I wasn’t falling in love with her too?”

“So it was true interest?”

“I’m not that needy and shallow. I am able to have a real connection-“

“How can you possibly contemplate boning me in the same studio you were hoping to bring her son to and teach him piano….Yeol get real..”

“I don’t know…I…“ he gave an exasperated laugh. You were both at your wits end. You couldn’t help laughing too as you continued on.

"I know it’s hard. Don’t clown right now because I said that…but Yeol those two guys that you pointed out really give their relationship an effort…they don’t just…float around….do you want to try again with her or…?”

He shrugged as if he didn’t know what she wanted but you knew he just didn’t want to face it.

“She doesn’t want to be together. She says the memories are too painful…“

"Then cut her a fucking check for the work she has done and send her on her way. Don’t prolong it. Or let the financial secretary cut it if she’s just here for that and the letter she needed…but talk to her first to be sure. And in a…well honestly with you it doesn’t matter what time of day or whether there are doors are not but just don’t…don’t be a dog about it ok?”

He grinned at you suddenly, the tears in his eyes making them shine.

“You really love me huh?”

“Yes I love you! Why else would I put up with your shit?“ You motioned for him to toss you one of the beers he was having.

And he cracked it open for you and brought it to your side of the conference table instead.

“By the way my sister wants us to get together next month…family event and all and I told her you were here,” he said as he cracked a cold one open for himself and took a healthful swig.

You’d let what you said to him sink in, gripping hold of him in its own time.

“Sure, what’s new?” You turned your attention back to your notes as he began to speak. “My mom is opening a new restaurant and it’s a lot more upscale. I was going to ask Baekhyun’s fiancée but with the baby and her health…I don’t know if she’ll be able to dedicate a lot of time to planning the event. She’s already stretched so far…but I don’t want to make things tense for you either since I know you and your dad haven’t spoken for a while…“

"It’s cool. I miss Mama Park. I’ll go. I think I know a couple people who would at least imitate _________ (Baekhyun’s fiancée)’s style if it’s the style you want…” you said, already pulling out your cell phone and looking through your contacts.

“Yea it’s the style…suga suga how’d you get so fly that you’re a global connect?” He teased suddenly, adding a little more honey to his melancholy tone.

“Please Chanyeol….been running the game for a minute now…” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled at that.

“Yea you sure have…”

“What did I say about those sexual references? Don’t make me box your ears right now Park Chanyeol!” You warned him, stabbing the air with your pen.

“If you really want to punish me you can nibble on them!” He laughed aloud.

“Get over here so I can slap you!” You hollered as he jumped up from the table just as MQ came in the door.

“What? You’ve done it before!” Chanyeol was saying just as he dropped his bag. He looked at the stance you both had taken at either side of the table, his mouth set in a wary line.

“I’m going to murder you!“ You shouted at Chanyeol.

"Please don’t! We’re already set back as it is. I don’t have time to delay for the proper burial services and I will not have Mama Park…” he was already starting to drone on but you had to stop him.

“Sometimes MQ you just go a little over the edge with your jokes…like it already tipped the ledge of being unfunny and then you just kicked it over…”

MQ frowned at you as he took a seat and cracked open two beers.

“You are so mean…” Chanyeol said to you as he sat once again at his seat now that MQ returned.

“But I’m productive aren’t I..?” You sang, sticking your tongue out at him.

“So does that mean you could help me with this match making idea you have going..? Since you have the connect..?“ You knew that he wasn’t serious about seeing anyone else yet and was just making conversation but you humored him, as usual.

"How much will you pay me…?”

“Wait what happened to the fact that you love me…“ he scoffed.

"But I still have to deal with you…money is part of deals…” you shrugged.

“Forget it then…“

"Don’t pout…”

“Then help me…”

“Then pay up..” you mimicked him.

“No…“

"Can you two please stop flirting and get back to work! We don’t have all night!” MQ had already downed both beers in record time and was up on his feet and headed out into the recording room.

“That was better MQ! Short and succinct!” Chanyeol called behind him.

“Get your asses in here so we can mix this thing right now!“ He yelled back.

"Ok I like the tone too. Real authoritative …” You snickered.

“I’m about to kick your butts! Get in here!”