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perfectlycleverface · 5 days

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to build a home: heartbeat

pairing: idol!husband!jeon wonwoo x actress!afab!reader

snippets of how you take care of someone who equally shares the same spotlight and odd schedules.

masterlist

synopsis: Unknown Number: Season Finale had just released and your husband made the decision to binge watch it while he was away from you. It turns out to be a terrible decision because he watches your character die and you’re miles away from him.

w.c: 11k

reader notes: afab, shorter than wonwoo, gets carried by wonwoo

tags: npr, idol!au, domestic fluff, established relationship, a little angst, comfort, wonwoo’s brother jeon bohyuk (jeonbeok) will be mentioned, this is a little more heavy on the movie, angst, comfort

warnings: semi graphic depictions of violence, blood, murder, dark themes, vengeance, and suicide (in the movie), sick!reader, profanity. Please be aware there will be heavy stuff bc y/n is an actress and there will be a scene where she narrates the dark mind of a killer.

a/n: using my jujutsu kaisen writing experience to talk about this lmao. The movie here is heavily inspired and the plot is the same as Agatha Christie’s And There Were None book. I just adjusted a few things such as the characters and timeline. Also i started writing this since December then had this spike to finish it lmao.

MDNI (18+). Minors/Blank blogs will be blocked!

please consider reblogging with your thoughts, commenting, and interacting! <3

wonu 🖤:hey sweetheart

Congratulations! Final episode will be released today right? You worked hard!

the guys and i have about a few days off before our tour in bangkok

I know that i normally would want to watch your shows with you but i really miss you..

minghao, dk, mingyu, and hoshi agreed on doing a marathon. I hope thats ok with you since ill most likely see you by the end of december and the spoilers im seeing aren’t exactly helping kkk

wonu 🖤: (missed call)

honey, your manager told me you’re in the clinic for a checkup. Are you ok? I hope your doctor’s appointment goes well. Update me after, please. I hate that i can’t be with you.

wonu 🖤: (2 missed calls)

Take it easy and please sleep when you get home. Jeonbeokkie’s in seoul atm, i asked him to leave some takeaways of your favorites. He won’t be knocking, he’ll just leave them by the door so you can rest.

I love you, little miss popular star.

You soften at the last message and it manages to make you smile as your shaky hands enter the pin to your home.

Overfatigue was not new to you nor your husband. You always made it a point to manage your rest times and sleep but season finales, interviews, and pre-recordings for the holidays were usually a wild card. So here you are, dragging your feet up the threshold of your empty home after a doctor’s appointment, a meeting with your manager, director, producers, and the writer about the possibility of filming a sequel due to how well the show was doing. The prospect was thrilling but undeniably tiring to think about that you felt nauseous.

You needed lots of sleep, rest, and good food. After MAMA, you flew back the next day after one night with Wonwoo just so you could attend to your other schedules.

It had been a crazy week. Even harder without having your husband with you.

Coincidentally, the release of the final episode of Unknown Number was in the beginning of your week off. It was not written in contract nor was it mandatory, but it was some unspoken tradition that you’d watch the last episode with the rest of the cast then grab dinner together. There was some magic in watching it together with all the people you had worked hard with and built a friendship with. But for the first time in the seven years in your career, you requested to skip this one out. This was usually discouraged in the industry, but thankfully you had a doctor’s note and a stern manager who supported your request.

Your fellow cast members and director were quick to send you home with just one glance at your pallid complexion.

You’re nearly passed out once you step into your bathroom so you avoid taking a much needed bath and opted for a quick shower. You did not want to wake up sitting in cold water.

You know you should call your husband but your eyes are droopy and your body warm that you don’t think you have it in you to hold an actual conversation.

But you know he’ll worry and it would keep him up at night. So you compromise and shoot Wonwoo a quick voice message instead. You will yourself to stand as you do, before you jump into the inviting covers of your bed.The bed was looking extra cozy and fluffy this evening and you’re sure you’ll be knocked out the minute your head hits the pillows.

y/n 💓: “babyyy, I just got home and showered. The doctor’s appointment was fine, nothing too serious. Just overfatigue. She told me I just really need bed rest along with some supplements and I’ll be fine. She did tell me to come back for a follow up check up and lab tests or something.

I know this day is important for the cast but I really can’t stay awake any longer. I’ll probably put my phone on silent and just hibernate. I haven’t felt this tired for a long time. I’m sorry this is all I can give you now. I promise to call when I’m awake.

Anyway, I’m glad you boys get a longer time off this year. I guess all the early shooting and photoshoots for the holidays since….hmmm… August? Yeah, it was a good idea. And…ahh yeah! I don’t mind if you watch the show with the boys! (Wonwoo barely showed facial expression anyway for you to look forward to witnessing). I’m pretty sure my smart husband will figure everything out on his own though. I hope you guys will enjoy it but cover seokminnie’s eyes for episode five…or six was it? Just be warned for the violence, we’ve got sick sfx artists for this one!

I’ll go to bed now. Send my thanks to Jeonbeokkie! I’m sorry I won’t be able to host him properly but I’ll be sure to send my gratitude some way.

And thank you, baby for looking after me even when you’re away. I love you so much! I miss you and I’ll call you when I wake up.”

You’re sure your phone will be blowing up the minute you wake up from all the notifications and reactions of the viewers, projects your manager has lined up, calls from close friends, and perhaps a notice of some photoshoots with one of your co-stars. You trust your manager will handle it for now as your heavy lids shut and you fall asleep.

There are only five people left in the old Victorian home. Five terribly frightened people whose fragile veneer of amiability have shattered under the weight of five dead bodies, all wrapped up and kept in the attic.

The model, Haeun, is still nauseous and pale from discovering the fifth dead body in the garden this morning. The fifth victim, a simple governess, had been shot with a poisonous dart out of nowhere. Her phone is on her limp hand, flashing ‘unknown number.’

Haeun relays this to her fellow survivors keeps her composure, shoulders tight while the remaining survivors sit around the vintage dining table. There are murmurs of disbelief…that the sweet, polite governess could be capable of murder. But it shouldn’t be a surprise, when each victim and call revealed a dark secret of each of them.

“I want to go home,” Haeun mumbles, her fingers trembling, “When will the damn ferry come pick us up?”

“They must be punishing us,” a retired lieutenant says, “With these ominous calls and claims of murder…”

“It can’t be…” one older lady, Madame Choi mumbles, nibbling the end of nails, “Five deaths and no witnesses. We’ve all turned off our phones. There is no way someone called. It must be-”

“Now, now…let’s think of this rationally. We were all present with an alibi. Lieut. Lee and Atty. Yoon was in the sun room. While Ms. Park, Ms. Haeun and I were having breakfast in the dining room. Not a single one of us has left the house, that we can testify as the lieutenant and Atty. Yoon was within our line of sight.” the doctor, Dr. Jang debriefs as calmly as he can.“There must be an eleventh person hiding in this island-”

“How can we prove that?” your question cuts through the air, precise and sharp while your eyes remain steady on the hand stitched table runner. “How do we know we are not alone?”

The silence is terse but your question provides both an ease and suspicion over the whole manslaughter. Ease, knowing that the confusion on everyone’s face is genuine. Suspicion because there still lingered a possibility that the unknown caller–killer, was present in the room.

“I have a proposal…” the retired lieutenant, Lieut. Lee states. His low voice used to be a source of comfort and safety, but now, each one has learned not to trust faces or voices. “We will conduct a search throughout the island and this house. Considering that this island is merely a hundred square meters, we’ll get through it in a day. ”

Several pairs of eyes widened in fear, fear of the unknown out there and the rocky cliffs yet not even were those five dead bodies safe from the danger that possibly lurks outside.

“Then,” you state, eyeing each remaining survivor sternly through your thin glasses, “We mustn't separate, we must always stick together. Whether you need to relieve yourself or not, no one is letting the other out of their sight.”

“But Atty. Yoon, isn’t that a bit–” Haeun gets cut off when a suspicious glance is thrown her way.

“No one leaves. We’re sticking together.”

Wonwoo fumbles with his phone, checking for any notification from you while the ending credits roll.

“It’s her, it’s Atty. Yoon,” Soonyoung confidently states, biting into his snack and glancing over to Wonwoo, “It’s your wife’s character, I just know it.”

Minghao rolls his eyes.

Soonyoung huffs in indignation before adding, “Plus, don’t trust a Yoon.”

The younger man shakes his head,“Just because you’ve been right in Mafia a few times does not make your answer any believable. She suggested not letting anyone out of their sight.”

“But that could be a strategy too,” Mingyu counteracts, “What if it is Atty. Yoon and she kills them all at once?”

“But how does that explain the third victim’s murder? The head trauma?” Seokmin queries, “Y/n -noona was—”

“Atty. Yoon,” Minghao corrects, reminding them it is just the character, not his hyung’s wife.

“It’s so weird talking about Wonwoo’s wife like this. As if she was the actual character.”

“She’s not!” Minghao presses.

Wonwoo only laughs with a shake of his head, “I’m used to it by now.”

Seokmin chuckles, “Okay, but with the third victim, Atty. Yoon was playing cards with the rest in the-”

“Could be impeccable timing,” Soonyoung offers.

Mingyu rolls his eyes , “Impeccable.”

The older man continues, passionate about his point, “Remember there was about a few minutes gap during their preparation for dinner.”

Seokmin looks around in confusion, “But? I was suspecting the model to be the unknown number. I mean, she was hesitant to agree to Atty. Yoon’s conditions. Also, she found the body…couldn’t she have pretended to have found it first to shrug suspicions off herself?”

The boys hum in consideration as the intro to the next episode starts playing.

“What about you, hyung?” Minghao asks the quiet man seated beside him.

Wonwoo contemplates for a while, the screen reflecting off his glasses before he speaks, “I’m not a hundred percent betting on it, but…it could be the ex-lieutenant. Physically, he’s much stronger than an old lady, a model, an attorney, and a doctor. It’s a given he has experience…and he’s suggested scouting the entire island—a terrain he’s probably all too familiar with. He’s bringing them to a place they most likely have no chance of escaping. On the other hand, it could be the opposite. It could be the old lady, the most defenseless of them all.”

They think of it for a while before ultimately deciding there can’t be just one final answer to what’s happened in the show so far since almost all their initial suspected killers have either proven themselves innocent or dead.

There’s a wild, wild scream that wakes the whole house that late night after their fruitless scavenger hunt.

The doctor and the lieutenant jump from their beds with a start. Frazzled and without putting on their slippers, they rush to the female’s room to investigate.

Haeun is sitting up, sweating bullets while Madame Choi calms her down.

“Fuck…shit…it…it wasn’t real! It wasn’t…I wasn’t–”

She lets out a dry laugh that sounds more hysterical than comforting. Dr. Jang and Lieut. Lee hang around the door in uncertainty while they watch the composure of the elegant model crumble under her anxieties.

“I thought I heard my phone ring and that I was–..” Haeun gulps hoarsely, her eyes wild with exhaustion and fear. The men look at each other, knowing that they’ve all abandoned and shut their phones in a basket in the common room. The old lady calmly hands her a glass of water and the girl accepts it gratefully. But before she could drink it, she flung the glass away like it scorched her. It shatters against the opposite wall.

“What the fuck are you trying to do!” she screeches, grasping the sheets before clawing at the sleeves of Madame Choi’s night dress, “Are you trying to poison me? It was you wasn’t it?! You purposefully startled me saying that–that the killer could be one of us! You keep telling me to watch out and–...and-”

The older lady begins to gasp in fear as the model leans over her threateningly that the men decide to step in.

“Ladies, please,” Lieut. Lee pries the tight grip of Haeun on Madame Choi, “Stop! We are all frightened but please! Let us discuss first.”

Having realized her hysteria, Haeun begins to tremble and pull away, pressing a cold palm to her forehead.

“I’m…I’m going crazy aren’t I?”

Her companions glance at each other before Dr. Jang quietly suggests, “You both had quite the fright.”

The old lieutenant scans the people in the room…until he realizes that you were missing.

“Where’s Atty. Yoon?”

The two ladies slowly blink in realization, looking over your bed that was left unmade.

“Oh that’s right,” Madame Choi remembers, “She told me that she would get a glass of water since she forgot to take her supplements…”

Wordlessly, the group of four rise up to make their way downstairs.

The music begins to swell dramatically as the camera pans down the dim, winding hallway. Five SEVENTEEN members watch in anticipation and while he’s had his fair share of horror and thriller movies, Wonwoo begins to feel his heart beat.

He doesn’t feel good. He doesn’t think he’ll like what he’ll see but he watches anyway.

The lieutenant pauses in the hallway and the rest follow. He contemplates, feeling the fear rise in waves from his companions. Four bodies….and counting—he should be used to it by now. Still, he closes his eyes and decides it's best to brace his companions than drive them into a state of shock.

“I smell gunpowder.”

Madame Choi gasps, holding a wrinkly hand to her mouth as Haeun visibly pales with short quick breaths leaving her lips. Dr. Jang says nothing, keeping composure as his high strung job expects of him.

Carefully, they make their way down the stairs and through the short hallway perpendicular to the kitchen and sunroom.

“Atty. Yoon?”

They find the top of your head peering above the armchair with its back towards them. It must be the earlier warning of the lieutenant or the situation itself but the smell of gunsmoke becomes more prominent. They almost fear to approach the armchair and your unresponsive form.

“Atty. Yoon, can you–”

Dr. Jang pauses…glances at his companions who look back at him warily. He then decides to step forward, peering over the chair to find you—-still, lifeless.

Dead.

You leaned against the cushion of the arm chair, both hands hanging over the arm rests and a toppled glass of water on the carpeted floor. Your eyes were closed, glasses fallen off your face, peaceful–with a deep round stain to your temple, that soaks your hair and slowly stains through the back cushion. One hand holds your phone, showing a ‘call ended’ sign before the screen dims.

Dr. Jang lifts your hand, and it falls limply on your lap.

His voice is expressionless…far away and void of any emotion, “She’s been shot…”

—

There's a mixture of surprised gasps, “huh’s”, and “yah’s” amongst the suspecting audience when the credits of the eighth episode begins to roll. The outro plays as the camera pans over the scenes where the remaining survivors would carry the newest victim up the attic where the rest of the bodies have been kept.

The confusion and discussion of who the unknown number could be falls deaf on Wonwoo’s ears as he watches the final scenes of your character. You’re being carried delicately in the doctor’s arms, the others solemnly following suit. The camera pans over your limp fingers, the slow trickle of blood along your neck, and how it slowly seeps into the doctor’s sleeves.

He lays you down on a spread out blanket, your blood soaked hair staining the fabric. There’s one final focus on your face, lips pale, forehead tainted with a gaping wound with blood staining your skin. Something dreadful begins twisting in Wonwoo’s stomach and it only festers when the doctor lifts a blanket over your face, solidifying you as the sixth victim among the freak accidents—or murders.

Soonyoung is pouting when the rest tease him and prove his earlier theory wrong. Minghao remains stunned, still trying to comprehend how cleverly and how quickly the murderer had claimed their victims.

“Hyung? Are you okay?” Mingyu softly asks when he notices the older man not uttering a word but rather keeping his gaze on the screen that slowly flickers to the next episode.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo responds, albeit raspier than he expected. It’s the first time he’s seen your character die. In your past movies and shows, you’ve shocked him each and every time with a new stunt, a different take, or just by the mere expressions you held that makes you a stranger to him. This time, however, the shock ebbs into something more melancholic.

It wasn’t even about the character or story.

It’s just how it seemed so real.

The boys exchange looks with each other. Minghao suggests meekly, “It’s getting late…how about we continue the marathon tomorrow?”

–

It’s nearly 5AM and Wonwoo hasn’t slept a wink.

All he could think about were Haeun’s screams, the haunting swell of the music as they discover your body, and the blood that dribbled from your forehead to your neck.

There was an aching urge to call you, hear your voice, quell this stupid stupid fear thinking that you were actually gone. He knows it isn’t true, he knows you’re alright and you’re asleep. He just hated how quickly that picture of you, bleeding, dead, and covered with a cheap cloth had bled into his mind. He’s seen horrifying and nightmare inducing movies and played games that were far more violent and graphic than what he’s seen today. Far from it.

But the pain and the fear remains.

Wonwoo won’t call you though. He can’t. He shouldn’t. It was silly and you were exhausted and sick. The fact that you felt unwell further cements the longing he feels.

Wonwoo unconsciously replays your voice messages, pulls up videos and pictures of you. One where you are sitting in front of his PC while you made a poor attempt at PUBG, yelling out in surprise then bursting into giggles with him at your own fright. One where you attempted to rap his part in Super. One where you were taking a late night stroll with him across the closed stalls and streets of Asakusa on your surprise visit. Your selfies, some stolen shots, and even the silly poses you do for him to smile.

They were always temporary relief. A balm to soothe the ache of the distance. But tonight, it just wasn’t enough.

His fingers move before he could think and he starts calling you.

The first one goes to voicemail.

So does the second.

And the third before he decides he was being selfish and unreasonable. His hand falls limply to his side, phone bouncing from his grasp. You were probably taking a well deserved rest, deep in sleep and recovering. He shouldn’t be taking that away from you.

But when he closes his eyes, all he could see was your pallid face…peaceful—with a bullet wound to your head.

Wonwoo sighs, burying deeper into his covers as he tries to think of something else when his phone starts to vibrate.

y/n💓 is calling…

His fingers fumble for the phone and he tries to ignore the building guilt in his stomach for the sake of hearing your voice.

“Baby?”

“Mmm?”

Your voice was rough, and he can imagine you half asleep or tinkering towards the edges of it. That was enough for Wonwoo, just hearing you breathe and hum.

“I thought you put your phone on silent…” he whispers, though he has the room to himself, he doesn’t want to wake you fully—which was ironic now he thinks of it.

“Nev’r f’r you…” you mutter, and he knows your face is smushed against the pillow. The image makes him smile, calms him a little to even think that you had woken up for him. “Wass’up?”

“I just wanted to check in on you, my love.”

“ ‘m sleepy…Nonu. ‘M okay.”

Wonwoo pauses for a bit, tongue tied between apologizing, admitting his fears, or just masking his true intentions. He picks the loose fabric of his sweater as he contemplates before settling for the latter.

“I just missed you…”

He knows this might irk you. You’re not really calm when sleep deprived–especially when you are over fatigued. Wonwoo thinks he can risk this and he’ll readily forgive you if you do drop the call. He just really wanted to hear your voice, to ground himself back to reality.

“Woo, that’s…that’s it? Couldn’t you have— then why’d you…” he hears your sharp, irritated inhale, like you were holding your tongue.

He waits for a few beats before he quietly mumbles, “I know, sweetheart, I know…I’m very sorry. But–”

He swallows dryly, remembering your pale face, the blood, and how your body was literally deadweight in the doctor’s arms.

“I–I just wanted to hear you.”

Your breaths begin to slow and he hears the muffled shuffling of the covers before you breathe out a little loudly, “Okay…s’rry, baby. I know you’re worried. I’m just tired—really tired. Dun’think I can talk much…”

Wonwoo feels relief and it starts to lull him into a sleepy state now that the erratic beating of his heart slows. “Don’t be sorry, baby. I should be the one sorry. I just…wanted to hear that you’re okay. You don’t have to talk.”

“Mm..s’sweet. Okay…I’ll stay with you. But, baby, not sure how much battery..left.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart, just…stay?”

“Mmm.”

“I love you.”

“Love you s’much, Nonu…”

–

You end up fast asleep after that. Wonwoo assumes your phone must have died at one point because when he wakes up at 11AM, he sees the call has already ended. With the remaining 9% of his battery, he shoots you a quick good morning, an apology, a thank you, and I love you text. His messages remain delivered, which tells him your phone must have indeed died and he’d have to be patient till you wake up and charge your phone.

It’s okay though, it was enough to help him power through another week away from you though he’s worrying over when you’d wake up to take your meals. Maybe he should send your mother a message when you don’t respond to him by noon.

The rest of his movie buddies were already awake before he was. They filter into his hotel room one by one after their personal agendas and they start the next episodes early in the evening.

Only the doctor, the retired lieutenant, old lady, and model remain.

The doctor is missing the next day, his bed unmade and shoes gone. This leaves the other three paranoid and convinced that the doctor was the murderer and he’s lurking in every space they are in. They remain closely together as they desperately turn back to their phones in an attempt to find ways to call for rescue. There’s no reception–it's been that way since they came yet the unknown number manages to reach them.

The only choice left was to remain alive and to hunt the doctor.

Whether they relieve themselves in the toilet, the other two would wait outside. When they cook up a meal, they remain together. When they stroll along the beach, hoping to catch sight of a ferry or ship, they never let the other off their sights.

Haeun increasingly becomes more paranoid, often mumbling to herself and claiming she thinks she sees a lady in the corner of her eye or jumps at sounds that none of them hear. In the dead of the night, she sneaks into the men’s room to grab hold of Lieut. Lee’s revolver, not trusting him one bit and keeping it in her possession in any case she thinks he’ll kill them.

Things begin to become missing in the house. A stone relic of bear, the journal where they had recorded the gruesome events that had occurred, and a kitchen knife. The insinuation of the missing items only heighten their paranoia as they search around the home for these.

No one dies for the next three episodes, no one stays sane as well when nothing happens for another three days.

Madame Choi solemnly wonders out loud if Dr. Jang had already been killed, they had just yet had to discover the body. What if they were just being punished for the sins they have committed but never admitted. That there was a vengeful spirit ready to sink its teeth onto them.

The idea brewed steadily in the survivor’s minds, and they wonder whether the selection of people sent on the island were not for their good fortune…but rather a confrontation of past evils they had buried.

The suggestion was outrageous but not impossible.

They call back to the first few nights spent in drinking and merriment when they were yet complete–ten people. The first victim had admitted to adultery at a point, the third had admitted that their claimed name was not really their real name, and the remarkable doctor even mopes about how many angry families there were when he couldn’t save a patient. No one came how they seemed.

Haeun is the first to deny any crime. Lieut. Lee remains quiet, knowing his career is tainted with blood. Madame Choi admits to her infamous strict, and unforgiving nature towards her apprentices but that was the only extent of her immorality.

–

During the scenes of Haeun’s hallucinations of seeing a lady brush past her or staring at her from a window she walks by, Seokmin screeches loudly in an octave only possible for a main vocalist like he is.

“Yahyahyahyah! Is this a thriller or horror?” Mingyu whimpers behind his fingers as he covers his eyes.

“If it's not Atty. Yoon, could it actually be a ghost?” Soonyoung wonders.

While Seokmin and Mingyu had willingly agreed to watching your show, they collectively whine, not keen on the idea of jumpscares or ghosts.

Minghao chuckles at the state of his two friends, their huge biceps clinging onto each other. “It is a thriller…but she is paranoid so it could be just all in her head.”

Could be that he was biased, but Wonwoo could not pay that much attention when you were no longer in the following episodes. In fact, he starts to wonder why you had to fly back home so soon for the season finale shooting. You were only there for eight episodes…

Then it starts to click.

That little bit of information helps him start to piece the mystery together.

–

The next death claims the old lady in a rather shocking way. The remaining three were just about to return back into the house after another fruitless scavenger hunt of the island.

Haeun screams in surprise, claiming that she saw a figure peering through the attic window and running. Jumping on the prospect of finally catching the murderer, they all rush uphill and into the yard when they all suddenly pause at the sound of a ringtone.

Freezing and trembling with fear, they each turned towards each other. Madame Choi breathes shakily, feeling the vibration of her phone in her pocket.

“Lieut. Lee, please, please go get hi–” Haeun starts to plead, “The murderer must be inside–we…we have to get him before–MADAME CHOI, DON’T!”

It was too late, the old lady reached into her pocket, her wrinkled hand pressing the phone to her ear.

“Madame Kanghyun Choi,” the voice on the phone starts, deeper than it was previously. It’s a different automated voice each time. “-for the murder of Shin Yea Ju–”

“I did not kill that wench!” Madame Choi seethes, rage burning in her eyes that once looked hollow and helpless, “She did it to herself. Running around and whoring herself out when she had the very potential to become a prima ballerina. She couldn’t even face herself nor her consequences–she–”

“Ms. Shin was pushed to her own suicide. She was pregnant and you had chosen to humiliate her, bring her to a clinic operating illegally where–”

“She’s much better off where she is now than facing public failure. She ought to thank me. I kept my mouth shut and the world thinks of her as nothing less than a promising ballerina who’s gone too soon.”

“I see now, there is no redemption for you.”

A loud shattering crash pierces through the air before the old lady could get another clever word in.

Something hard and heavy flies out the window, falling on Madame Choi’s head followed by a painful crack and spatter.

Haeun is crying hysterically before she could even look.

Lieut. Lee is the only one brave enough to assess. The weapon had been the missing bear statue by the fireplace. The pure white stone is tainted with the crimson splatter of the old lady’s blood.

—

“It must be the doctor!” Mingyu exclaims, “He must still be alive. The voice was deep and–”

“It's a different voice each time,” Minghao reminds, “We learned early on we cannot trust its voice.”

“Even so,” the taller man presses, “Who else is smart enough to actually aim that statue exactly over that lady’s head? Who checks the bodies? Who seems like the safest person amongst everyone else?”

“Come to think of it, if the unknown number does know each and everyone’s hidden sin…the only person who could have a record of those would be a doctor.”

“What if,” Wonwoo’s voice is quiet in contemplation, “One of the bodies in the attic is not actually dead. What if there was not one murderer…but two.”

The boys don’t argue with that possibility then choosing to focus on the final remaining episode.

–

“Don’t you feel that…there’s someone watching and waiting?”

“My dear girl, that’s just nerves.”

There are seven bodies in the attic now.

Haeun claims that she needs air…that she could no longer stay in a home full of dead people.

The lieutenant and Haeun stand by the rocky shore, staring into the sun setting over the horizon, hoping that by some miracle a boat would come and rescue them.

“It’s a poem,” the man mutters, staring quietly at the tides, “I realize now…it’s a game.”

“What?”

“...in the library, back in there, where we did our first scavenger hunt,” he continues, “There’s a book on the table by the hearth. One page had been dog eared and the page read an old english nursery rhyme: Ten Soldier Boys.”

Haeun listened intently.

“Ten Little Soldier Boys went out to Dine, one choked his little self and then there were nine…Our first victim had a coughing fit, and Dr. Jang examined him, said it had been an accident.

Nine Little Soldier Boys stayed up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight. Mrs. Kim took a pill before bed, thinking it had been her sleeping pill but it wasn’t. She never woke up..” the lieutenant continues to recount each murder and how each one related to the poem. Haeun feels nauseous as it starts to click. “Five Little Soldier Boys going in for law; one got in Chancery and then there were four…Atty. Yoon is in law. Four Little Soldier Boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three. That could mean that if Dr. Jang is dead..”

“This is…it, huh? I’ll just die here,” Haeun releases a bitter laugh, “After everything everyone has bet on me to make it to where I am in the industry…I’ll just be another body in an impending cold case.”

Lieut. Lee does not comment on that. They stay there for a while in silence until Haeun finally speaks.

“I’m going crazy, aren’t I? Lieut. Lee, please tell me I’m not the only one seeing that bundle of clothes.”

The man looks over where she points to the rocky bed in disinterest until his eyes widen, “No, Miss Haeun…you aren’t seeing things.”

He takes a step forward and then draws back, “It’s…a body.”

–

“Yahh! It’s Dr. Jang. He’s actually dead!” Soonyoung exclaims, “If it's not him, it must be Lieut. Lee!”

“Or Haeun,” Minghao offers, “She’s often dismissed because of her hysteria.”

“Wahh, this is so hard,” Seokmin pouts, clutching his chips closer to his chest.

–

Haeun is standing on two shaky legs, cocking the stolen revolver towards Lieut. Lee from a safe distance. The man is leaning over the bloated body of Dr. Jang, limp and wet against the sand.

“You did it, didn’t you? You’re the only one between us capable and knowledgeable of everyone’s sins.”

“There’s many things I am not proud of in my lifetime. Many sins I have to pay for just for the sake of this country. This—is not one of them,” Lieut. Lee remains calm, holding his hands up in surrender as he answers steadily with a question of his own. “I can tell you my sin.. What’s yours?”

Haeun, a coveted model whose face was once smooth and free of the hardships of this world, crumpled into something malevolent and nasty. Her eyes are wild with terror and hysteria, mouth pulled into a snarl, and hair matted behind her ears.

“I. Never. Did. A. Damn. Thing.” she declares even as her voice trembles, “It was an accident. I did not kill her. I–”

Lieut. Lee frowns, “Who?”

Haeun fires once, missing her target by shooting his leg. Lieut. Lee yells in pain, grasping his leg as he falls to his knees.

“That bitch! Ji Eun,” she screeches like the name scorches her tongue.

Lieut. Lee, nearing the throes of death, begins to recount where he’s heard that name before.

“It was just a stupid dare. She was drunk and she was stupid enough to follow through. She fell off the beam. Maybe I hated her. She was a stuck up bitch who slept with anyone to get herself front cover,” she starts heaving in dry chuckles, “I respect the game. It’s not new to me but she had the fucking audacity to sleep with my boyfriend. Not because she liked him. But just cause he was a big shot photographer!”

Her aim is unsteady now as she quakes in anger, “Fuck, what am I saying. I hate her. I wish she fell off ten stories instead. I wish a car ran over her body after.”

The retired lieutenant knows that even if he lived through this one, he’d die one way or another. So he doesn’t fight, instead he asks one more question to piece the puzzle in his head.

“What did you say her name was?”

Haeun, starts hiccuping then laughing hysterically before screaming, “Yoon fucking Ji Eun.”

The lieutenant’s eyes widened in realization, recalling back to old conversations amongst his once living companions about families. He may not recount each one’s stories but he only recalls one only because he understands the grief over losing family.

( “I did have one little sister,” she had muttered to him quietly amongst the boisterous drunken laughter that swallowed her voice. “She was the only good thing for me in this world.”

“Was?” the old man queried.

“She’s gone.” He sees her lips quirk up bitterly. “Her name is Ji Eun.” )

“Wait,” Lieut. Lee shouts when Haeun reloads the revolver with terrible ease, “Wait, listen, I know who–”

BANG!

There are nine bodies now. Haeun makes her way back up to the house, tracking sand across the tiles as she enters. She ignores the trail of blood from where Lieut. Lee dragged Madame Choi’s body up the attic. Her footsteps are heavy, her heart heavier as she thinks she can hear the rush of the streets back at the studios. She can hear the giggling laughter and drunken cheers of her and her friends echoing off the hall. And when she passes by the window, she thinks she sees her own reflection smirking and challenging like how she had done towards Ji Eun when she dared her to walk up the construction beam. The girl had refused politely until Haeun blackmails her with poorly timed photos of her in the director’s office, threatening her career and status. Ji Eun had stared in horror, knowing full well the public would feast on such rumor than the truth.

Maybe Ji Eun was drunk.

Or maybe Haeun shook the beam a little.

Haeun arrives at her room, not finding it strange to find a noose hanging atop a stool or her phone vibrating on her bed.

“How’d that rhyme go again…” she mumbles, feeling heavy.

She doesn’t answer the phone. She finishes the unknown number’s job, steps into the stool, fitting her head through the rope, then kicking the stool.

—

There are twenty minutes left before the episode ends. The boys are quiet in shock. Still at a loss of who the unknown number could be. The screen blacks out for a minute before it fades into the rush of the ocean and muffled sounds of shouting. The scene skips a little later into the future, where police officers, investigators, and the media begin to puzzle over the mystery of a lone island with ten bodies. There were no records of any other ferry arriving or leaving the island. A timelapse occurs, a whole investigation and scouting has been done until the case becomes cold and unsolved. The island is closed off to visitors due to its reputation until the tide steadily rises, and in over a decade the abandoned island sinks to the bottom.

The shock wears off and the boys start animatedly discussing over who the culprit could be.

“No way, that can’t be the end!” Mingyu whines. Seokmin agrees, complaining about why he even watches your shows when it isn’t even his favorite genre.

“All the bodies are actually dead,” Minghao notes, “That means there must be someone else involved right?”

Wonwoo has no answer, he just hopes that fifteen minutes left of the final episode would be enough to explain it.

–

The scene skips to twenty years later, where a young fisherman, off the coast of Okinawa, hauls up his nets up onto his boat. He’s cursing the heat and his lazy companion who opts to gather the ropes into neat piles.

Saltwater slaps onto his face as he single-handedly pulls the weight over the boat. The bright glimmer of mackerels’ scales soothes his irritation a little, noting at one glance how healthy they were. Some seabass and squid are caught in the net, he thinks to set some aside to bring home instead.

As the fisherman loosens the net and tosses aside his catch, a distant clang is heard rolling into the boat’s wooden boards. Perking his head up, he notices a sealed encrusted glass bottle. He shakes his head, disappointed at the prospect of trash in the ocean but something tells him to inspect it.

He picks it up with a gloved hand, noting the barnacles attached to it and how the bottle had some coral growth on the sides due to its age. The tiny wire around the cork looked rusted and old. Tilting the bottle upside down, he notices how the discoloration had avoided the bottom and how the bottom retains its original olive green color. It tells him it had been lodged to the bottom for a while.

“What’s that?” the second man asks, his language switching to that of a Japanese dialect.

“A very old glass bottle,” he says, noticing the year at the bottom of the bottle, “It looks like there’s something inside.”

“Trash maybe,” his companion scoffs.

“No…” the fisherman tries to pry off the cork till he realizes it's been sealed shut with wax, “There’s a letter inside. Whoever wrote this made sure to keep it safe.”

Curious, the second fisherman comes up behind him, offering to heat it up over a lighter.

Familiar background music begins to play, signaling another transition. The bottle opens up, and they shuffle an age old paper that had been rolled inside. Gingerly, they open it to find that it had been written in Hanggul.

“Eh, all the way from Korea.”

“Do you understand it?”

“What do you think? I only went to high school.”

Sighing, the young fisherman stands to look for his phone to take a snapshot.

“What are you gonna do with that?”

He contemplates for a while, glancing at the open letter and the photo on his phone. His answer is lost to the background music as the camera pans into the letter, refocusing on the words written.

‘A Confession.’

The moment is tense for the viewers and Wonwoo while they try their hardest to read the letter.

They collectively gasp and exclaim in surprise when your voice fills into the background music.

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been odd.”

The scene blacks out, sounds of children and a school bell ringing playing through the background. It then cuts to a school girl, who is an uncanny younger version of your character. You’re watching a couple of kids shoving and kicking another classmate of yours, your fists clenching at your sides. In a split second, you take off to tell your teacher. Only, your teacher does not believe you nor your bullied classmate–dismissing you and earning yourself the same beating on the way home from school.

“I’ve always had contradicting feelings within me. One with romantic imagination, another with inexplicable urges for violence, and one with an intense conviction for justice.”

As you narrate, scenes of your early life to your adult years play out. A show of you repeatedly standing up against bullies, getting bullied, falling in love, getting your heart broken, studying, being taken advantage of for your smarts, then later humiliated. It seemed like all the bad things in life had fallen on you.

“It didn’t take long for me to realize that lots of things in this world were not fair nor will they be fair. Fairness is something you take with your own hands—you just had to be creative with it.”

Then comes the scenes where you had pushed off a bully down three flights of stairs, tinkering with your ex’s car till it eventually implodes when he’s in it then exposing your professor’s infidelity by publishing it in the school newspaper. You never get caught. It becomes clearer with each scene that you solidified the earlier point of your letter, you were odd. Eyes as dead as they could be.

“I took up law with the intention of making sure that everyone receives the fairness they deserve. Where does that romantic imagination and thirst for violence play out? I had one thing I wanted to do in life–to kill. To collect offenders who were wrongfully pardoned. To bring peace to the victims they’ve chosen. I wanted to avenge them but to satisfy my need for justice, I needed to make sure they were worthy of my judgment. I had a list that I curated through the years. Yet my plans–they laid dormant. And it was all because of one person’s life–my sister, Ji Eun.”

The kind face of a beautiful young woman appears, smiling gently towards her older sister who seemed burned out from a long day at court. She offers her tea, her company, her jokes, and she manages to pull a humane expression out of the austere Atty. Yoon.

“My relationship with Ji Eun had mostly come as strange to most. We were extremely different, both with interests, perspectives, and careers. She was all for the zest of life and the beauty of it while I fancied the prospect of death. Still, she cared for me as deeply as I cared for her. In my eyes, she is what made life seem like it was worth living in spite of the cruelty of the world. She was so kind, so pure, I had thought that she would be safe from the unfairness of it all. Until she had been killed.”

The scenes show a familiar flashback of Haeun’s hallucinations earlier in the episode. Indeed, the model had manipulated the situation, making sure everyone including Ji Eun were too intoxicated to make proper judgments. After getting chummy with her, she proposes a game of Truth or Dare, before promptly daring a drunk Ji Eun to walk up a beam from the renovation going on in their building. The envious woman shakes the beam, causing the young girl to wobble and fall to her doom.

“The incident had been covered as an accident all done because of alcohol. But you must know, my sister doesn’t drink unless someone pressured her or drugged her. My sweet Ji Eun, gone and left the world as a warning to young people to avoid drunkenness–only I remembered her as she truly was.”

The scene pans back to your empty eyes, standing over your sister’s grave with a huge black umbrella. Haeun had attended the funeral, eyes welling with tears that you knew were not from sadness. You’re glad that your presence had not been extravagant for her to remember you. But you do remember her, and you remember her over the years to come as you complete the list of your victims.

“That was enough for me to curate my list and re-awaken my need to kill. I will not go into detail of the process in which I collected my victims. I’ve come across Dr. Jang’s case, where he had failed a surgery, not because of unfortunate circumstances but rather he had conducted the surgery drunk. Then there was the case of Madame Choi Kanghyun, where she had threatened her apprentice, Shin Yea Ju into getting an illegal abortion for a child she wanted. Ms. Shin later fell ill, and unstable from all Madame Choi’s perfectionism. She then took her own life. There’s one of the Lieut. Lee, his callousness towards the many lives he took deem him unsafe for society.

The ways in which I took them out one by one had to be done with accuracy, intention, and impeccable timing. I even made sure that even the driver taking us with the ferry had a sin to be punished. I had successfully convinced Dr. Jang to fake my death in order to ‘throw off’ the killer. No one would look at the bodies as closely as the doctor nor would anyone want to be near another dead body after discovering four murders. It had been so easy once all eyes were off me. Poor Dr. Jang was ever naive enough to rendezvous with me in the middle of the night to discuss our plans. It was easy to push him off the cliff and into the sea when he’s unsuspecting of my build and height.

And of course, I made sure to take Haeun last.

I did lay out the trap of grabbing the pistol, she had been one with true intent to kill. But driving her to the point of madness had been a delightful surprise. Definitely something I didn't mean to orchestrate, perhaps her guilt had eaten her sanity whole.”

Scenes from the earlier episodes flash quickly, showcasing how you managed to commit each murder discreetly. There had been mixed reactions all throughout that revelation. From Seokmin’s constant, “Really?...really?!” to Minghao’s silent gaping mouth. If it wasn’t for the tense orchestral music, the boys would have been yelling and shouting in surprise.

The screen pans to your figure, looking out the window of the attic, noticing the thunderstorms looming over the horizon. You turn around and the slow zoom towards your face has Wonwoo holding his breath with how well you hold an expression of satisfaction, emptiness, exhaustion, and content.

You walk towards the door to the attic, stepping over the bodies covered in sheets. Carefully you’re threading a thin elastic cord through the door handle, before you walk back to the spot where you had lain when you faked your death.

“Omo, omo, omo, what is she gonna do?” Mingyu mumbles, eyes hyper fixated on the screen when you tie the string around the revolver and your glasses.

“Of all my talk of justice, I am not so cruel as to not punish myself. I, too, deserve to pay the price. I, too, deserve to die.

When they discover our bodies, I will be as what my companions had recorded of me, death by gunshot to the head. After I’ve written my confession and thrown this bottle into the sea, I shall come back to the attic and lay down. I will attach a thin cord around my glasses that when I fall on them, it pulls the revolver away from my hand. My prints will be protected by the handkerchief I will hold with the revolver. The handkerchief will cause no comment. My death, again, will be as recorded in the journal of my companions. None shall be able to suspect my time of death by the time they discover our bodies.

They will find ten dead bodies and an unsolved mystery.

Signed:

Yoon, Ji Hye. “

The final shot is of your smiling face, staring straight at the camera, fingers in the handkerchief as you raise the revolver to your face. The screen blacks out with a crisp bang to go with it.

And the credits roll.

It’s silent for a long while.

No one is sure what to say first. Stand for their theories? Express their shock? Comment on your insane acting? Or calmly discuss the plot?

But after a beat, the boys fall into a heated discussion of their reactions, realizations, and comments.

“The plot is crazy…the plot twist is crazy who actually wrote this-”

“I did not expect that ending at all.”

“I told you! I told you it was ‘impeccable’ timing! I told you it was Atty. Yoon!”

“Did you even think she’d pull it off that way?”

“Do you think that her confession was ever published?”

“Her backstory was pretty interesting. I wouldn’t mind seeing more.”

“We should replay the earlier episodes to see what we missed.”

Their yapping fell into background noise, too wound up to notice the main person they wanted to ask his opinion on.

Wonwoo is in a whirlwind of emotion. Most of which were familiar but also something new. He had always been blown away with your acting and how you flawlessly deliver each riveting storyline with microexpressions and tone he never expects. Even after you’ve started dating and got married, it still blows his mind because of how well he knows you as his wife and how quickly you become a stranger on screen when you embody a character. Especially characters not even close to your sweet and kind nature.

Then he feels something new, it's the same sinking and anxiety inducing feelings he had last night. One where everything felt so real, one where his rational thinking had been overcome by his feelings for you that he struggles to tell what is real. One where he had the overwhelming and consuming urge to be with you and hold you. Because in the last scene, you had died again–with an expression that seemed like you were happy to die.

It’s ridiculous. Wonwoo starts on yet another road of self-depreciation that he feels this way. He knows its acting, he knows, everyone knows, what an incredible actress you are.

You haven’t texted him at all today. He knows you’re probably still asleep but it worries him because you had just come from the doctor and you were sick and all alone. The urge to be present and care for you while his anxieties gnaw at him start to become too much.

He tries to shake it off when Mingyu pats his back, praising you for your phenomenal acting and that Wonwoo must be so proud of you. Wonwoo smiles, quickly falling into tandem with their discussion and reviews.

3:41 PM

y/n 💓: (missed call)

omg baby

I think i slept for 18hrs. Thats crazy put that on our record haha.

I woke up cause i was so hungryyyy. Had a headache when I woke lol. But im feeling so much better now. Anw, call me when you can!

I love youuu <3

4:57 PM

wonu 🖤: hi my love. Im glad you got some rest.

I’d call you but i dont think that would be necessary

You’re in the kitchen when you read your husband’s text. You tilt your head midbite of your reheated meal, brain processing slowly.

y/n 💓: ??? why not?

Five minutes later, you hear your front gate slide and tires hitting the gravel of your front yard. Startled, as you’re not expecting any visitors, you swiftly open your home cameras from your phone. Your eyes widen in surprise when you recognize the model and plate number as one of PLEDIS’ company SUVs. You nearly choke on your tea when you see Wonwoo step out of the door in his usual airport fit, all black and a bucket hat, and shrugging a backpack over his shoulder.

Your heartbeat skyrockets in surprise and excitement, a grin spreading across your face when you hear the passcode beep. But when you shoot up from your chair, you’re hit with a wave of dizziness that you grip onto the counter for support.

“Baby?”

Your vision is still wobbly, fingers cold when the thud of his bag and familiar footsteps pad around the house. You manage to get a hold of your senses by the time Wonwoo rounds the corner to the doorway of your kitchen.

Your husband stands there, hair mussed up from pulling his bucket hat off. A soft smile stretches across his features and his eyes are filled with relief when they find you. You know you probably look like you got run over twice. Hair unbrushed and sticking up in odd directions, pillow line on your cheeks, and in one of Wonwoo’s old hoodies.

You gape at him, blinking, wondering if maybe this was all your hallucinations from overfatigue.

“Nonu?” you whisper, tilting your head.

The nickname squeezes his heart warmly, and it takes him three long strides to reach you and envelop you into his arms. Wonwoo breathes in the scent of you, relishing the weight and softness of you in his arms. He reminds himself that you’re not well, so he tries to be tender in his touch but he gives you one squeeze, conveying how happy he is to see you.

You surrender to his hold, mind still foggy and processing the fact that your husband is home. Still you bring an arm around him weakly.

“I thought you won’t be home till next week…” your voice is muffled into his shirt. Wonwoo nods against your hair, eyes slipped shut while he rocks your bodies side to side.

“Oh man…don’t tell me–did I sleep longer than 18 hours?” you pull your head back to look at him, eyes wide in concern, “How much did I miss? Baby, I’m so sorry if I-”

Wonwoo takes the chance to kiss your forehead, “No, baby. I was supposed to be home next week. I just took the next flight back here for our two day break. Well technically one and a half.”

“What?” you gasp a little loudly and that in turn causes you to feel a dull throb to your head, blood circulating poorly from your exhaustion. “But baby, what about the rehearsals and then your flight…Why are you back here so soon? Is it because of me? Wonwoo, I promise, it’s just overfatigue–”

You shrink in his arms, feeling guilty as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. Wonwoo is quick to ease you, reaching up to pet your hair before cupping your jaw.

“Darling, aren’t you happy I’m home?”

You pout, “Of course, I am. I missed you so much.”

Your husband smiles, “I came home ‘cause I missed you.”

You raise a brow, unbelieving of his simple reason as you’ve gone on for longer without each other. Wonwoo sighs, rubbing his thumb across your cheeks and frowns when he sees your sallow complexion and tired eyes. Your lips and skin have lost its natural flush and it sends a sting of agony in his chest.

(He’s distantly reminded of the two scenes where you had died and it unconsciously shows the distress in the tug of his lips and furrow of his brow.)

“And yes, I was worried about you…I know you told me you’d ‘hibernate’ but I didn’t want you to be alone during this time.”

Your eyes turn puppy like as they gloss over with affection and your lip wobbles. Your husband laughs, bending down to kiss your jutted lips.

“Don’t even think about it. I want to be here, I was allowed to be here, and if I wasn’t, I will push to be here,” he squeezes your waist before lifting you up with ease then settling you back on your chair. “Finish your meal, baby. Take your meds then let's head to bed, hm?”

An hour later, you’ve taken your meals and supplements, Wonwoo had showered and you’re both settled in bed.

You’ve known that your husband is usually reserved with his touches and in your first year of marriage, you also learned that he wasn’t a big cuddler. Sure, you’d cuddle or cozy up to each other’s side, but it was not like you held each other every night. It was fine and comfortable honestly, it never bothered you.

What was strange however was that Wonwoo rarely ever cuddled you the way he is now. You lay comfortably on your back while his head rests on your chest, broad shoulders encompassing your body, and a long leg tangled with yours. It's a little tricky to wrap your arms around the breadth of his shoulders so you settle with resting one palm on his fluffed up hair while the other is content to play with the fingers on his left hand that settles on your waist.

You both catch up in hushed voices. Wonwoo tells you about the concert, the cute little fanedit he saw of you and him, as well as letting you know he finished watching your show with the boys. The way your breath hitches and your heartbeat picks up makes him smile against the warmth of your chest.

You tell him that you don’t have the energy to check on the media’s take on it but you want to ask him what he thinks about the show.

“It was really unexpected,” he murmurs against your skin, recalling the many arguments the boys find themselves in with trying to piece together what’s happening, “I was with Minghao, thinking that it was probably Haeun the whole time,y'know, with how easy it is to dismiss her because of her hysterics. At one point I also thought it was the doctor. I did have a theory about one of the bodies not actually being dead but that’s the only one I got right. I do think I had an edge knowing you were shooting for a final episode. Minghao did suggest that we play it back one of these days to see which clues we missed in the first few episodes. The music, transitions, special effects, and cinematography were amazing.”

He tilts his head up, squinting a little with the lack of his glasses but he leans his body enough to comfortably rest his chin on your sternum. You think you look silly looking down at him from this angle, but it doesn’t matter when he’s looking at you tenderly with stars in his eyes.

“Did you see (Y/N)’s acting though? She was flawless, no wonder she’s been voted as Miss Popular Star,” he grins cheekily as you scoff.

“Yeah, I did see her. She’s pretty cool.”

“Mhm, she’s my wife.”

You laugh, weakly slapping his shoulder with pink dusting your cheeks, “Dork.”

Wonwoo chuckles, resting his head back on your chest with a soft sigh, “In all seriousness, you’re incredibly talented, my love. I barely recognize you with how committed you were to your character. I don’t understand how you do it. Your facial expressions and tone are so subtle with each shift that they ultimately build a different person.”

You thank him quietly, giving him an appreciative kiss on his hair.

Then he falls silent, the scenes of your death replaying once more in his mind as he tries hard to listen to the beat of your heart.

“You made everything seem so real, (Y/N), so convincing.”

So convincing it scares me.

You’re about to thank him again when you pause. Running your fingers through his hair and feeling the faint squeeze of his arms, you contemplate on how quietly he said that and how there’s some tinge of sadness with his genuine adoration.

Your mind is addled with weariness but you take your time to decode what your husband really means.

“You thought it was real?” you mumble gently.

Wonwoo knows you’re trying to read him. He knows there's a lot of things he doesn’t have to say for you to understand, especially the ones he’s a little embarrassed to express. Most days, he feels frustrated with himself and how long it takes for him to warm up to somebody. It even took him nearly two years to convey his feelings towards you.

The way you’re attentive to the words he doesn’t say is further confirmation that you were made for each other. You understand each other in ways only soulmates would.

“Oh, Wonwoo, my love,” you breathe softly, wrapping your arms around him. You remember how intense it was filming two scenes of your character dying. You had truly committed to your character the more you read the book it was based on and the script. You tried getting inside the mind of a woman who perceives the world in only one way, one terrible way but then having someone she so dearly loved taken away from her. Someone so precious that she’d burn the world for.

Wonwoo had seen all your shows and movies, some were even more graphic than others. He was familiar with the nature of your job and with his own image as an idol, he had a clear understanding of what was for the media and what was real. Perhaps it was also because this was your first ‘death’ on screen.

You’re a little proud that you played your part too accurately, but you’re also endeared and saddened with how it had affected your husband. Especially when you think back on the storm in his eyes when he first arrived.

Wonwoo feels a little pathetic, but he’d rather be here, grounded in your heartbeat, touch, and seeing you getting a little better knowing he’d be around to take care of you. He’d rather feel this than be in his cold hotel room, wondering when you’re getting your meals and if you’re resting well while he fights off his fears that stemmed from something he knows is fictional.

“Y’know, with how physically demanding this genre is, I was wondering if I should accept an offer for romance-”

“No,” he mutters firmly against your chest, sound muffled in your arms.

Your chest shakes with laughter, knowing the possessive edge of your husband. You release him, shimmying down to tuck yourself into his chest. His arms welcome you and he rolls onto his back so you could settle comfortably. You sigh in contentment, already feeling your energy being restored before you could even sleep.

Lacing your fingers in Wonwoo’s you raise your intertwined fingers up underneath the hoodie. You hear him inhale sharply when his palm meets your bare skin and you look up at him with a derpy smile. His cheeks are flushed but then he feels the steady thuds of your heart against your warm skin.

“I’m right here, love,” you whisper, leaning to tenderly kiss him.

All the tight knots of anxiety, worry, and self-depreciation unravel and wither at your voice, your eyes, and your touch. Wonwoo’s muscles ease up, sighing into your mouth as he just continues kissing, and kissing, and kissing you.

“Feel my heartbeat.”

a/n: Apart from therapeutic domesticity, I like writing dark stuff so let me know what you guys think! Also please let me know if i missed tags or trigger warnings. I hope you enjoyed <3

taglist: @chimmy-bts @dookiemeshibear @yeeeeezly @k-drama-adict @satsuri3su @christinewithluv @jheeenyyy-blog @softsakusas @leeknowloves @viewvuu

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