#choco n the rest can go into cat form at will

[goldenlol]

second watcher just overfed him cause he looks so cute

#dark cacao cookie #dark choco cookie #darkvelvet #red velvet cookie #cookie run kingdom #choco n the rest can go into cat form at will #it was going to be a little comic with cacao asking choco at the start “not feeling it today?” (normal form) then notices how chonky he is

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME -11 |N.Y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, explanatory mention of a pistol!

words :: ~5k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

“  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: @kpop-choco​ @moon-yuta​ @kawaiiayasan​ @btm-taeyong​ @exfolitae​ @lanadreamie​ @cheersskznct​ @hyuckiesgf​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​ @suhweo @minejungwoo​ @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​ @ro2424​ @itlittlefangirl​​ @nctzens-world​​ @bl--ankhaeji​​ @simplybree​​

 networks :: @kafenetwork​ @neowritingsnet​  @nct-writers​

K.M masterlist

K.M 10     next

a/n :: header was made with detailed instructions from lovely @cirrus-lily​ (thank you so much for your patience).

Previous night , taeyong’s office.

The thick, heavy unnatural silence was breached by the phone call. Taeil’s muffled words didn’t reach anyone’s ears but taeyong’s reaction was enough for an estimate!

“what did taeil say?”

Taeyong glanced at yuta’s hopeful yet helpless face. Taeil's order was far from what yuta's eyes sought. The past ten minutes were spent listening to the unsynchronized ticking of the clocks and some random whispering of the younger ones from the living room. And now, several pairs of eyes were asking for the answers.

“you will be stationed in nice, f-for two months.”

Yuta’s face hardened at his words. He gulped and opened his mouth to say something but stopped. The words stuck on his tongue would not be able to convey what he wanted to, he thought.

“with johnny?" Jaehyun uttered.

“no yuta is replacing him" taeyong mumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

Yuta snickered , “ as expected.” as much as he didnt want to sound bitter, his senses were not cooperating with him too much.

“this is not about you or johnny. It’s better if you both stay away fr-

“did taeil tell her the truth?” yuta coldly cut him off.

“i don't know about that!"

“then I'll have to do it myself." Yuta stood up, alerting everyone.

“do not stretch this yuta. This can end right here. Your absence woul-

“you got it wrong taeyong!” yuta cackled , “I'm dying to leave this place but don't you think she deserves to know that she's wrong here.”

“please yuta. For last time. trust taeil. this is the last thing I’m asking from you. You’d get the chance to explain. Ju-just not yet.” Yuta scowled at taeyong’s hollow pleading.

He inched forward slamming his palms on the table , “ since when did you start playing with wrong players taeyong? you are supposed to be the smarter one here. Who are you fooling here? you think I don’t know why she’s here or jaemin, jeno, jungwoo, chenle, jisung, mark, they don’t have a hint?” taeyong eyes danced around the room avoiding any contact as yuta continued, “Don't stretch this taeyong. this can end right here. without hurting another one and right before they can get attached. I hope when i come back , you would have sorted this mess out or you won’t have time to regret this time”

Scoffing at taeyong’s hunched figure, he smacked the table once before leaving the room.

Doyoung  followed soon , leaving Jaehyun and Taeyong alone.

Panic engulfed jaehyun’s entire being as he pondered over yuta’s words.

“he’s right. You saw her today. She’s getting worked up over a stupid misunderstanding and you saw the way taeil is acting! This was never the plan. She’s not timid. You cannot possibly make her agree to anything at all. Taeil would never let that happen. Heck! Yuta’s getting weirder these days. Let her go. We can wait unt-

“We. Can’t .wait. I know my limits, Jaehyun and two months are enough..” Taeyong whisper yelled “ I care about her more than you’d ever do so get the fuck out of here. You don't get to tell me what I should be doing.”

Jaehyun leered at the older man, muscles in his jaw twitching at his words  “you have lost it taeyong. if we fail this time, you’d be the one to blame.”

Perfectly ironed shirts were wrinkled as yuta threw them into the case. doyoung was ready to accompany but he refused all the assistance proposed to him. He left nothing. from t-shirts and pants to jumpers, he packed as if he was going for a one way trip to france.

He groaned , jumping on the suitcase, trying to bury the clothes deeper into the case so he could zip it. Once finished,he pushed the cases out of the room and into the hall. locking the door, his running and hurried eyes fell on the opposite room. It was bare of any presence. This was his first time peeking into your room. He was merely looking from afar but the very next second he found himself going through the album resting on the bed covers. a perfect normal photo album was calming enough to subside his inner turmoil.  

yuta scrunched his nose at the small girl who was either frowning or crying in most of the pictures. the family of three looked quite happy. But the girl didn't seem to resemble any of the adults. He almost let out a laugh at your wailing form in every other photo. Just looking at the pictures, anyone with two eyes could tell that you were a spoiled kid. No wonder you were full of attitude and ego, he thought.

closing it, he glanced at the room, simple and plain. Not that his own wasn’t but he couldn’t find anything that had prompted you to lock your door for the whole day. He left the room to lock his own but when he pocketed his keys, they met with something at the end of his pants pocket.

A grunt left his throat at the sight of the screws. He had placed them in his pocket to follow your fuming body, the reason of which he didn’t know back then. He was about to throw them on the bed when the album caught his eyes again. He cursed at himself for being so indecisive. Pacing back and forth , he noticed how composed he had suddenly become. He wasn’t feeling anger, just some traces of irritation for the whole drama that had unfolded.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he took a paper from your desk, scribbled with a trembling hand and left it on the counter.

All while hoping taeil was actually being reasonable , just this once.

12:30 p.m

Looking through the power window, you stared at taeil’s arriving form, hands full with brown food bags. He hit the car door with his one knee prompting you to open the door from inside.

“when I say you are no better than others ,I really mean you are NO better than them!” taeil chortled as he shoved a bag into your lap.

“what did I do this time?” you rolled your eyes as you anticipated another moral lecture from him.

“nothing. you are making an old man to get food for you!”

“and I had suggested the said old man to enter the drive thru!”

“and drive thru is no fun, duh! The vintage the better!”

“just like someone I know! you exclaimed chewing the burger.

“very funny. You know highway stops are all about breathing in fresh air while stretching your arms, yawning so widely that you have to hide your face in your stretched arm to save yourself from the embarrassment. The first step out of the car after hours of driving feels like restoration of something that was denied to you for such a long time. and the second phase of happiness comes at the engine purring, the feeling is like no other, I’m telling you. but someone lost their chance to experience it .”

“you sound poetic taeil but you lack facts. The fresh air you just inhaled is what we consider a polluted one.I’ll prefer to sit inside and miss all that instead of going out and dying. So let go of the  fancy peace thoughts and develop your perceptions according to the changing world. The sound of this vintage engine is a source of headache and not happiness.Now lemme eat. IN PEACE”

“we’ll see whose perception changes” taeil mumbled munching on the fries.

You both ate in silence for 20 minutes. As the drive continued ,the stilled milieu took you back to the uncertainties you were trying so hard to suppress. When taeil had knocked at the door in the morning, which was beyond expectation at first, he gave you the liberty to question his actions but you had passed that opportunity, precisely to show that you weren’t that greedy. But you were! The endless queries were now making you anxious. Why did taeil come with you? what was the reason behind his pleasant behaviour, how could yuta agree to go like that? sure he liked your presence not more than you did but was he the kind to bow down so easily! Or was he designing something under the colour of acceptance. taken together ,you ended up being the ruthless one here. But the leading one was why did yesterday happen! Multiple stolen glances at Taeil were fairly noticeable; you were waiting for him to just start something. And he perhaps was waiting for you to initiate. Dilemma remained unsolved and you arrived in seoul just like you had left it, but visiting your parents had lessened the encumbrances weighing you down.

You were about to retreat after thanking him when he finally spoke up,

“b.n at 6! No exemption. And instead of racking your brain, just ask. it’s simpler than you make it to be y/n.”

Slamming the door shut , you dragged your feet for the apartment, shaking your head at the man.

Of course he knows everything! And maybe could ask him someday to get your own answers.

10 days later

The gun went off with a bang which if it hadn’t been for the ear protectors and the noiseless sheets, would have deafen your ears. Fingers pointed at the target, eyes coloured with impatience, jungwoo didn’t move. After he was done with his dramatic action, the glass shield slid and he entered inside.

“this is target A. this one is B” he asked for a confirmation with his wide eyes which you nodded at.

“right. so!” he walked circling the dry grass to stand between two targets, “so when I say hit at A, you should be firing at A, precisely aiming anywhere in this space.” he explained again, hand moving in front of the said space.

“I hit at the center jungwoo! The fucking center! For the first time in two weeks.”

“yes. You did hit the core but of the wrong target.”

“how does it matter? It's a perfect shoot”

Jungwoo blinked multiple times focusing on your puzzled face. He wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to annoy him or you seriously lacked a few braincells to understand where you were wrong!

“at the wrong target.” he pressed.

“but I still hit-

“Ok. listen to me carefully now. Lets assume A is taeil hyung and B is a killer. If i shout to you that kill B and you mistakenly shoot A instead then you’d end up killing taeil hyung instead of the killer and then you’d be a killer yourself and even if the shot was perfect it was targeted wrongly thats why when i say hit A, hit A and when i say B, hit B. understood now?” dumbfounded, you stared at him bobbing your head a few times to indicate you understood. But you really hadn’t.

“You are not lying right?”

“Dont accuse me of lying!”

“Oh! So you still don-

“hey beautiful!”

Your heads jerked towards the owner of the voice who had just interrupted the bickering.

“johnny” you whispered.

“I meant jungwoo y/n.” jungwoo sticked his tongue out at you as he jumped forward to hug johnny.

“When did you come back?”

“just now. I flew directly to Japan from nice. didn’t he inform you all? And why is nobody at home?”

a small smile graced your face while jungwoo started explaining to him about some business event. You felt like jungwoo won’t shut up anytime soon so you turned around from the scene and made yourself busy with the magazine. As you were counting the rubber bullets to fill the magazine, a pair of arms touched your both shoulders.

“wh-

“how are you y/n.”

“you done talking to your prince.”

Jungwoo groaned approaching you with a stern look.

“you’ll have plenty of time to chatter. Focus on your job instead!”

“ugh. You are so annoying. I’m done for the day.” You announced handing the pistol to him.

“wait! what am I missing here.” Johnny's eyes shifted , not knowing what was going on in his absence.

“yuta hyu-

“I know all that. I’m asking about the bullets!”

“Taeil told me to learn some basics to defend myself and jungwoo is my assigned teacher who don’t seem to appreciate my skills at all”

“liar!” Jungwoo screeched and continued, “she’s poor at shooting, hits anywhere but the point I’m indicating at an-and she never listens to me.”

Snorting dramatically at the end, he glares at you. you welcomed his complaining speech with a toothy grin which seemed to annoy him more. One thing you had learnt in the past two weeks had been that jungwoo was frustrating when he was hungry and during the time he was supposed to teach you, no food was allowed in the basement, making him a hunger monster.. Johnny watched the exchange with an amused smile, just like you were doing a few minutes ago.

“alright. You both need to chill. Jungwoo, she's not a professional so go easy on her and you! you should listen to him. or if you want I can be your tutor instead!”

“don’t hijack here. she's my student and I was chosen because I am the softest and the sweeter one her-

“who is a second away from having a breakdown!”

“no go out. You are not invited anymore. nobody is allowed here from 6 to 7:30 .” Jungwoo announced as he started pushing Johnny out the door.

‘”yaa! Jungwoo. I’m go- don’t push me you rascal. I am going. Bye y/n. I’ll be waiting upstairs.” He shouted and waved in the air which you, for no reason, found yourself returning even if he wasn't going to see it.

As johnny was gone, jungwoo pressed the switch again to close the partition. Coming behind you, his arms embraced you and he placed the gun in your hand as he ducked himself to reach your height with another try to improve the hand-eye coordination. Occupied with each other, you both missed the pair of eyes watching you both  in a very unpleasant manner.  

“how’s your research going?” johnny asked with a mouthful of meatballs.

“it’s meh! The library is under construction so I can't properly look through books and besides minjun is too whiny to let me do anything. I can’t leave that kid alone so we're always hanging out after 1. I’ve some resources saved so I’m fine for now” you replied.

“seems like that minjun guy makes you very happy. Is he the one?” jaehyun took your attention as he pinched his neck. You narrowed your eyes at his unnecessary remark.

“my happy pill is not minjun but you jaehyun dear. I haven’t seen you in like 5 days i guess? So that eliminated all the reasons for my unhappiness. Your absence is my elixir jae. ” You grinned. Jaheyun pointed his chopstick at you but before he could utter anything, taeyong spoke up.

“woah. Don’t you two start now.” he cried.

“he’s the one that starts everything! I just continue his shit for it-

“well I won't initiate if its not for that stinky tongue o-

“Shut up before I lock both of you in a room.”

Hearing several snickers, it seemed like taeyong was the only one getting annoyed, everyone else seemed to be enjoying it.

Just when you were about to pour more juice, everything else finished and left the table. it seemed strange as how fast they were done with their dinner.

“how can you all eat so quickly?” doyoung seemed to be more perplexed as he asked taeyong.

“don’t you both know?” you settled your chopsticks on the plate as taeyong proceeded, “the last two to finish cleans the dishes.”

You instantly scanned the whole dining table and the instant regret of eating like a sloth washed over your face. There were only three left and next second there were only two. Jungwoo shot up from seat with his stuffed mouth, waved and left. Taeyong didn’t waste any time before he also scurried away.

“this was a conspiracy y/n.” doyoung murmured.

“I know right. they knew it. w-we have to wash for 14 people.”

“look at the brighter side, we don’t have to hurry now.”

You shrugged at his words, filling your glass with juice again.

“you should not be drinking juice at nighttime.” He lectured

“then why is it on the table?”

“aish! You are impossible.”

“so are you.”

You continued bickering with doyoung until both of you were finished. Like everyone else, you too had started to find joy while annoying doyoung. The responses from him were always a treat. He was also awfully similar to you. the nit-picking in almost everything, forever sceptical body language and lastly the  identical frown you both wore all the time. but you were not the one that detected the similarities, it was doyoung himself.

It was not just doyoung! With exception of jaehyun, it seemed like everyone was trying to make you a part of their daily lives. The day after the incident, you had hesitated to knock the door, scared of their reactions towards you but the dark cloud of worry had floated away with the warmest hug jungwoo had welcomed you with. You detected no rejection, no unpleasant remarks, instead you were strictly instructed to not to leave the premises without having dinner. And that one day became two and two a routine. You were confused as you were the reason someone dear to them was somewhere he wasn't meant to be at the moment and yet they treated you like you were their own! For first few days you were at edge, the affection not digestible. Feeding your suspicions , you tried to choke something out of mark who was also your designated driver but all he unveiled was his endless jokes and contagious giggles weaved with the various stories. Each day he recited a new one, sowing the seeds of intimacy with his family which, you couldn’t deny, were sprouting into something unprecedented. However vague it was, you liked it. You liked this unsought acceptance, being included like a family, taking you back in the time. But you never had the luxury of an easy life. Was this worth trusting? Were you ready to return their affection by placing them on the pedestal as same as jungkook and yugyeom. But this house wasn no more reeking of any resentment and you were more than fine with that for now.

"Stack the glasses, I'll pick up the plates"

"This is so tiring" you complained while scraping the sauce on the plates.

"You'll get used to it." Doyoung deadpanned.

"Tell me why i agreed to this!"

"You know the rules. And don’t you remember because of you, I washed for 20 people that day! You deserve the suffering woman!”

You chuckled at the memory. A few days ago, You, doyoung and hyuck were the last ones remaining.  And you had won the rock paper scissors. Though the last two were the supposed cleaners, hyuck had ditched the poor boy, leaving him with extra load.

"You carry some heavy dark clouds on your head man. I don't know how you manage to end up with dirty utensils!every fucking single time" Doyoung glared at your remark and you both continued washing and wiping the dishes side by side.

"Where are the spoons?"

"On the table. Wait , I'll be back in 2 minutes!"

Carrying the cutlery you made your way back to the kitchen but chanting of a familiar name froze you in your steps.

"He's acting like a child johnny! Had he called you after you left?" It was taeyong speaking in a hushed manner, but he was not doing a very good job in whispering.

"Nope. He just took names and contacts of all the whistleblowers and that's it. But i can’t understand the need for that taeyong! I had everything in control. What do you wanna achieve with your stupidity!”

"Jaemin, hyuck and jisung are in constant contact  with him but only to receive the codes he's sending. He's just unreachable and I'm not just talking about his cell network johnny. I'm losing him. He- taeil thought it’s for the best. They won’t see each others face for sometime an-

“And everything would be fine? Right? Sounds very legit. Goodluck with daydreaming princess.”

Hearing some shuffling, you trudged for the kitchen, not wanting them to be aware of your eavesdropping.

Stretching the hem of your knee length skirt with your hands, you kicked your feet in the air to get the non existing elasticity to work. chances were not less but anybody could see you so while cursing at chelin for the tight skirt you made your way inside the office. Your bag made contact with your right hip as you walked into the office corridors. You entered the security doors through the pass that was generated online for first day entry.You never wanted to enter this side of the famous company but with minimum options available you had no choice but to associate yourself with this branch, infamous for saving culprits of money laundering, false accusations and what not.

“ms. y/n?” a receptionist shifted your attention to her tall frame. You affirmed with a nod and she extended her hand asking for the documents.

“I’ll place your original documents in our custody room. No need to worry, this is a mere formality as we don’t make interns sign confidentiality papers. As you already know , you can end your internship with a three weeks prior notice and when we receive that application, your document would be handed back. And in case, you become an associate, and that would depend on your performance, you’ll get them at the promotion.”

You followed her steps as she stopped at a desk and gave you the papers back.

“change the folder to a chois file. And sign this receipt. I’ll give you a copy and don’t lose it if you want your degree back.” You blinked drinking each and every word she said. You again nodded like  a lost child and completed the formalities. After a few minutes you were shown to your small desk that was decorated with a pyramid of legal files.

“do I have to work on these” you voiced your fear. Even if it was a stipend based internship, nobody would take up that work load.

“oh no! actually I forgot that you were joining but I’ll get it cleaned in the evening so you can adjust for today right?” before you could respond the sound of her heels faded away in the distance.

“Welcome to the great chois y/n” you mumbled to yourself, picking up a random file to pass the time until further orders.

A week later

To keep your mind off the distasteful look painted all over mr. kwang’s face, you chose to look at his new assistant. The clicking or rather banging of the keys of the computer combined with the occasional scratch of her nails was highly uncomfortable but not more than the man sitting beside her. Your professor didn’t find it amusing that his favourite free fund student was asking for her permitted leave.

“how much have you progressed with the thesis?” he scoffed, respectfully dumping the application  on the table.

“I’ll be working half day. I’m not supposed to accompany them to the hearings so I’ll be back in the university in the late afternoon to research on that.”

He sighed, clearly not satisfied by the answer, “you want to skip lectures for an assistant job!”

“I would be promoted shortly so it’s acceptable sir.” A lie slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“what about getting distinction in thesis?”

“I’ll be surrounded with experts so it’s not a big deal sir.  I’m getting late. I’ll see you in Friday’s lecture.” In sync with his eyeballs, he rolled his chair to face the other way. Picking up the paper you bowed to his back and left the staffroom , a grin of content bedazzling your face.

"He did what?" Johnny tried hard to control his laughter but the scenario you were narrating was too humorous for him to keep his hands stable on the wheel.

"I'm not kidding John. Yugyeom seriously forgot kook  at Busan. But he did go back to get him though but I won't blame gyeom for this error!"

"Oh yeah! Just because jungkook slept in the gym doesn't justify his mistake girl. The driver should count the passengers before taking the wheel. Look at me, i never forget anyone no matter what!"

"Stop blowing your own trumpet. Don't forget you are driving a stolen car!"

Johnny rolled his eyes at the comment , "no, borrowed from mark so I can spend more time with you. stop lawyering and tell me what you did in the break. Apart from flirting with jungwoo of course."  

You shook your head at him as he repeated the same you-flirt-with-jungwoo mantra again but this time decided to follow the lead , "so what if we flirt! He's teaching me to save myself from predators , abductors and he’s very gentle with me. Have you seen his eyes! I want to drown myself in the depth of those brown sea-

"Oh my god I'm so sorry! I'm never mentioning that again but please stop. You are awful with words." His laughed again, you joining him soon. " Now seriously tell me how were your holidays"

"Umm nothing new except that everyone was on university funded trips leaving me with minjun , his camera and the plants. We explored botanies and flower shops an-

He had lied. You were not sounding awful but he just hated how quickly his heart beat at someone else's mention from your lips. He consumed each and every word like he could be tested on the said information later on. His eyes were glued to the road and his ears to your voice. He wanted nothing more than to be the only one you’d see. He wanted nothing more than to be subject of your talking but the voice in the back of his mind said fuck it johnny, you are already asking for too much. He hated how he lost control over his senses whenever you were near him but he was slowly getting used to the dilemma. But the trance he was trapped in quickly broke down when you mentioned something. Abruptly stopping the car by the trees, he faced you to confirm.

"You are doing what?"

"I'm interning. Don't look at me like I stole your candy John. I need money." You innocently replied not aware of the reason behind his sudden dumbfounded expression.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on masters!n yuta is supposed to pay for you so why do y-

" I can work for my money johnny." Frustration made its way to your face as you continued,"drop me home johnny!" You weren't sure whether it was for his mention or him questioning your ability to feed yourself but you were offended.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I won't mention that again" a hollow apology and the car sailed again.

Hiding himself in his car seat, Johnny's fingers hovered over various contacts. Taeyong, taeil, Yuta, jaehyun! He wasn't sure what he wanted to do or whose side he wanted to take. He just wanted to be with you and no one else! but he couldnt do that !

Kicking harshly at the brakes, he screamed. The voice reaching no one’s ears but his own.

Was he asking for too much?

i wanted to add more to this chapter but i dont find enough time to write due to some commitments! but i’ll update one more chapter before this beautiful year ends. and all the smut chapters would be uploaded again sans the adult stuff for the minor readers! and there are few more chapters left. masterlist says 12 chapters bcs i’m lazy（￣︶￣）↗　

HAPPY DECEMBER EVERYONE. HAPPY HANUKKAH AND MARRY CHRISTMAS. BE THE SANTA OF YOUR LIFE AND SPREAD HAPPINESS!!

#nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct mafia #nct yuta #yuta mafia #yuta arrange marriage au #nct arrange marriage #nct series #yuta series #killing me yuta

[bangtan-madi]

noel on ice — kim namjoon

Pairing — Namjoon x Reader, feat. minor mention of Jungkook x OC

Genre — fluff, holiday, minor angst, mental health

Tags — strangers to lovers, figure skater!Namjoon, barista!MC, non-idol au, figure skater au, café au, holiday au

Word Count — 16k

Summary —  After sustaining a crushing defeat at the World Figure Skating Championships, falling from his perfect gold standard to his long-time rival, Kim Namjoon returns to South Korea with an unsure heart and accompanying injury. At the same time, Y/N is as far from home as she has ever been due to a falling out with her family, working as a barista at a café in Seoul while trying to finish her degree. As if by fate, the two meet, and Namjoon makes it his goal to make Y/N see the magic of the holidays -- one Christmas adventure across Seoul at a time. 

Warnings — minor language, brief anxiety attack, mentions of ptsd related symptoms

A/N — This year has been a very difficult one for us all. For my fic in this Christmas collab, I wanted to acknowledge all of that and give a little mental health break for everyone. All of our experiences have been different, but one thing we all have in common is that 2020 was unexpected, painful, and heavy. Please, no matter what holiday you celebrate, let yourself have as much rest and healing as you need. If this little, probably-needs-more-editing-than-I-had-time-for fic can help you get there — even just for the twenty minutes it takes to read — then my job is done ❤️ I love you all, and I know I speak for the others when I say I hope 2021 treats us all so much kinder, and I hope we learn to love ourselves in spite of our worlds around us.

Playlist — Link here.

Christmas Collaboration — this fic is a part of the Christmas Collab by @kooala (link coming soon!)

"Hey—Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Raising your head slightly, your eyes widening as you realize you've zoned out again, focusing on the snowfall outside instead of the next customer in line. The woman waving her hand in front of you is as foreign to South Korea as you are, but her expression is entirely that of an angry American. Her scowl has etched deep lines into her skin, where smile lines should be.

Unfortunately, her face is all too familiar. Usually it pays to be one of the only native English-speakers at your café; however, when Americans come in, you're the one pushes to take their orders and serve them.

Even the most difficult ones.

"S—Sorry, Ma'am," you mutter. Shaking your head, you force a customer-service smile. "I was just admiring the snowfall. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Oh, yeah," she retorts sarcastically. "So beautiful that it's making travel home nearly impossible. Can you please just make my drink so I can leave?"

"I—I didn't hear it, Ma'am. Can you repeat it please?"

While the woman rolls her eyes, she repeats her order swiftly, muttering something along the lines of, "Baristas these days, I swear to god," under her breath. "Make sure to get it right this time. Every time I come in and order a blended cappuccino, you guys end up giving me a latte, which is not what I ordered."

"And every time, we have to explain that all a latte is, is a blended cappuccin—"

"—I don't want to hear it!"

With a sigh, you ring up the total for the "blended cappuccino, not latte" and let the woman pay. From the sidelines, your co-worker Lisa stands with a glare and a tin of heated milk ready to go for your order.

"Ms. Blended cappuccino again?" she asks as you turn towards her with a note written in perfect Hangul.

You nod, running  a hand over your hair in frustration. "I hate being the only native bi-lingual person here. Means I get to deal with her every damn time."

Sensing your downtrodden spirit, Lisa pushes you out of the way, giving you a gentle shove towards the back room. "I got this one. Go take a breather in the back, okay?"

"But—"

"—Ah! No buts. I know enough English to get by."

From the front desk, the woman pipes up again, demanding her drink be made faster. Lisa marches past your, arms herself with the imaginary drink, and says in perfect English, "You're in Seoul now. Speak Korean."

Knowing Lisa can handle the absolute hell-spawn that is an angry American Karen, you turn your back to the drama and shuffle to the break room behind the "employees only" door. An exasperated breath escapes as you revel in the silence, pushing away the muffled café sounds on the other side of the door. Being the only one in the break room, you spot your favorite white chocolate mocha on the side table, with a smiley face sticky note indicating it's from Lisa beside it.

You smile gently at the sweet gesture, and shove the sticky note into your pocket as a reminder to yourself to thank her later.

Taking the mug between your overworked hands, you settle down on the window seat and watch the December sky slowly shift from violet to navy. The mocha is just slightly sweet with a hint of peppermint, just like you like it. It's almost enough to illicit the Christmas spirit lying dormant inside you.

There's something incredibly painful about this particular holiday season, you think to yourself as the cars pass swiftly on the street outside. The glittering lights, the beautiful carols, the crystalline snow — none of it feels the same as last year.  The holidays are supposed to be a time of comfort and renewal, but this year — after moving halfway around the world by yourself — your heart is starting to wonder if that part of you has died.

Maybe it's the loneliness you're feeling, or maybe it's the fact that you're so far away from home. Or maybe it's the fresh-in-your-mind arguments and falling out with your family over the summer. That bitter taste lingers still in the back of your throat, not unlike a dark espresso.  A Christmas season without your parents and siblings; you never thought living your own life and following your happiness could hurt so much. For better or worse, that nostalgic feeling family and friends bring is long gone. And now you're nostalgic for nostalgia itself; what kind of messed up feeling is that?

You've had twenty-four wondrous, magical holiday seasons. Is it part of growing up that your allotment of joyful Christmas days is limited?

Is twenty-five the year that the magic just...stops?

When the night sky becomes unchanging, the door to the café kitchen opens. Lisa peeks her head inside, side-bangs falling in her face. "How's the mocha? Did I get it right?"

You take the last sip with a grateful smile, then place the mug onto the coffee table. "You nailed it. Thank you, I needed that."

Pride swells in Lisa's chest, and her shoulders straighten as she enters the room. "Well, good news. Karen's gone," she announces, "and your favorite customer is here!"

"Who?"

Lisa places her hand horizontally at her hip-level. "About this tall? Loves peppermint hot choco?

Bolting from your seat, all your concerns are momentarily gone. Your co-worker doesn't have to utter another word to get you to exit the back room and reenter the kitchen.

Across the counter, a mop of black hair is barely visible. Dark brown eyes peer over the granite surface; they twinkle and shine at the sight of you. Tiny hands splay on the surface in an attempt to make the small child taller. He's around seven to eight years, you estimate. Nine or ten at the very most. Definitely not out of primary school. And he's your very favorite customer, because unlike most, this child comes in with a toothy grin almost every single day with enough money for a peppermint hot chocolate. He's never late, and he's never unhappy. If the Sun were to bless the world with a ray of sunshine in human form, this kid would be it.

"Ahjumma!" the little boy shouts, a grin plastered on his face.

Instead of having him crane his neck, you walk around the counter, bend down on one knee, and ignore the other customers behind him. Pulling one of the tiny baked goods from your apron pocket, you offer the sweet to the child with a wink.

"You're here awfully late, Yeongu. You're usually here right after school lets out. It's already after dark."

Yeongu digs through his pocket and pulls out several crumpled won, enough for his beverage of choice. "Tomorrow is the last day before Christmas break, so dad picked me up and took me skating. I'm with mom and her boyfriend for the rest of the month 'cause Dad's going to Busan with his new wife. I don't like her that much. She frowns too much. And she smells like soju and taffy."

You exchange the won for the baked treat, laughing softly as you invite the boy onto the corner table nearest the hot chocolate machines. "You don't like taffy, do you?"

He makes a face and takes a big bite of the delicacy. "My teacher tells us that if we eat taffy, it will help us remember things. I ate too much of it last year, and now I hate it. Dad's new wife must always be forgetting things, because she always smells like it!"

After finishing the simple drink, you slide the mug across the table and plop down in the seat across from the small boy. "So does this mean I won't get to see you until after Christmas?"

Yeongu shakes his head. "I'll be by tomorrow after. Mom wanted to visit my cousin before we left. He's back in town for Christmas, and we haven't seen him in a long time."

"Oh? What does he do?"

"Sports."

At that, the boy changes the conversation. "What are you doing for Christmas, Ahjumma?"

"Yeah, Ahjumma," Lisa pipes up after serving the final to-go customer for the night. She flips the sign on the front door and turns back to the two of you, hand on her hip. "What are you doing for your first Christmas in Korea?"

Shrugging slightly, you turn your attention back to the small child across from you. "I'll probably spend the day with Mochi — my cat — probably studying so I'll be ahead in the new year for my next classes." Lisa gives an empathetic look at the mention of your kitten, which causes you to roll your eyes playfully. "Don't give me that look! I'll be fine. Probably best for me to have a relaxed, non-hectic couple of days. This year has been a rough one."

"That sounds sad," Yeongu states bluntly, earning a snicker from Lisa.

"Kid's right. Absolutely dreadful, [Y/n]. What a lame Christmas."

"What about you, then? Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

At the question, Lisa's smirk drops and she perks up. "Well, I'm sure you know, but Christmas in Korea is pretty different from America," Lisa reminds you, and you nod your acknowledgement. "It's more of a couple holiday, so my boyfriend Jungkook and I are planning to take the week off and do a ton of holiday activities together. Mostly outdoors stuff. Y'know, snowboarding, skiing, snowball fights — the usual."

"Sounds like a blast," you laugh.

"Oh, it will be." She gives a wink, then nods to Yeongu. "Are we about done here? I need to head out if you're okay with locking up for the night."

You give a wave of approval as the child nears the end of his glass. "I got this. Say hello to Jungkookie for me."

Lisa flashes a set of extravagant finger hearts before disappearing into the back, where she gathers her personal items and exits out the rear entrance. In her absence, Yeongu tugs on your sleeve and holds up an empty mug.

"Thank you for the hot choco, Ahjumma," he grins, showing the dark stain on his upper lip.

Taking the mug, you use the edge of your apron to clean the mess from his face. "If you come by tomorrow before you leave with your Eomma, I'll make you another with extra peppermint, okay?"

The boy's smile grows, and he hops up from the table with a swift bow. "I'll be here!" He heads for the door with a skip in his step.

"Will you get home all right?" you call after him.

Yeongu turns and grins. "I will, don't worry, Ahjumma!"

And then he's gone, out the door in a rush of energy and giggles towards his home nearby. You merely shake your head; there's no point in going after him now.

Soon after, you're following in his step. It doesn't take you long to clean up. By the time you lock up and exit out the back, snow has begun to fall. You brave the cold, tugging your coat tighter around you, burying your face into your scarf. The journey to the subway is short, and your feet take you quickly. Even still, you stare upward at the snowy clouds in hope that they might spark a semblance of Christmas joy in your heart.

Tonight, like every other night, nothing changes.

You heave a sigh, and the breath billows out as a visible fog as you enter the station. Going through the motions to get to your apartment is easy. A swipe of a card, a short ride to the edge of the neighborhood, and a trek up the set of stairs. Once through the door, you're greeted by a mewing shadow of a cat.

"Hi, my baby girl," you greet with a soft smile, bending down to scratch the tiny fur ball behind the ears. The black cat rubs her chin against your palm and follows you when you waltz to the kitchen. "You hungry?"

As if responding, "Yes!" Mochi speeds up and meows a bit louder than last time.

Her antics bring a smile to your face as you turn on the television for background noise. You find the nearest Korean news station, finding the program in the middle of a report on Korea's favorite rap duo and their upcoming tour: Suga and J-Hope. Your intention with the selection is two-fold — first, to continue to enhance your skills of the Korean language, and two, to continue learning about the culture and world of your new home. While you had extensive knowledge of both before moving to Seoul — despite the process being rather quick due to the fallout with your family — nothing compares to being immersed in the country itself.

As the musical entertainment section ends, you begin pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cupboard. "What do you think sounds good, Mochi? How about teokbokki?" The black cat perches her paws on your right leg, purring pleasantly. "I agree, sounds great after a long day."

You toss a bag of rice cakes onto the counter as the news changes to sports. Even as you prepare the sauce for the meal, you actively listen to the voices in the background.

"Unfortunately, RM Nam's ice skating season has been cut short due to an unforeseen injury he sustained during practice this summer. At the time, the damage to his shoulder seemed unnoticed by the athlete and his coach. However, as we saw earlier this October at the Grant Prix Series: Skate America, Mr. Nam's mishap on the ice turned out to be far more damaging than originally thought. Thus, the position representing South Korea at the next in the series, Skate Canada, was shifted to his rival, Kim Seokjin, and RM Nam returned home to Seoul to recover."

You can't but help a glance up at the screen. The skater in question has his back turned to the cameras as he heads into the airport. Behind his sunglasses, mask, and beanie, he offers a polite smile and wave to the reporters. Moments later, his coach guides him into the building, out of sight.

"That doesn't sound fun," you mutter to yourself as the report moves onto politics.

After you finish cooking, you plate yourself a portion and move into the living room. Besides the tiny tan sofa and the television propped up on a box, most of the room is bare. There are a handful of boxes strewn across the apartment of the few things you either had shipped from the States or that you bought in your six months since then, but for the most part, you've been putting off all of it. Most of your time is spent at work or at school; you haven't had the time, energy, or motivation to do any of it. Even at Christmas, despite Lisa gifting you with your very own tiny tree and twinkle lights to spread across the home, you've yet to unpack any of it. The tree remains in the slender box beside the TV, and you doubt it will go up this year at all.

Heaving a sigh at the thought, you turn the channel to VIKI put on your favorite drama. This particular one is a reincarnation plot with two male leads played by Korea's golden boys: Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. Paired with the bowl of teokkboki in your lap and the kitten curled to your side, it's enough to drag you thoughts out of homesickness and back to the present.

This might just have to be the Christmas you forget and hope that the next year is a kinder one.

A lot changed in your life this year. In some ways, the changes were good. In others, not so much. Most of the turbulent times were in the heat of the summer, but things began slowing down once you moved to South Korea in September. You were now away from toxic family members, away from a life you never wanted, and looking ahead to an uncertain but certainly hopeful future.

In late October, the seasons began changing for the better — and not just in the physical sense of the falling leaves and cooler breeze. Lisa was right about your favorite customer; it truly was little Yeongu. However, there was another that you looked forward to seeing, just as much as the elementary school boy.

This person was older, around your age, with a deeply dimpled smile that made your stomach flutter. Eyes as slender as his body proportions, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't an attractive man. Hair the color of the snowflakes he walked through, eyes the color of the beverage he'd always order, skin the color of warmth in a cozy fireplace. Even his voice was warm and deep; at every conversation, while you are completely fluent in Korean, you find yourself just wanting to listen to the soft timbre.

Over time, this man — whose name you'd quickly learn was Kim Namjoon — became a regular at your little coffee shop. He'd come in at the oddest hours, either super early or super late. Hours you often worked alone, when there were fewer customers. Every time, he'd strike up a conversation as you took his order and crafted his beverage of choice (a heavy coffee brewed dark and bitter, with just a splash of cream and almond whip.) He was sweet, and eventually you opened up. He'd hang around the counter long after the transaction was completed, sometimes until another customer stole your attention away. It didn't take long for you to realize that he was far more than merely a pretty face.

In those weeks leading up to December, you found yourself smiling a bit more. Joking a bit more. Shoulders lightening a bit more. You looked forward to the increasingly insistent days where he'd waltz in — sometimes covered in raindrops, sometimes in crisp leaves, sometimes in snowflakes — always a crystal blue umbrella under his arm and a charcoal grey scarf around his neck.

It's the same person standing at the entrance now, the man currently shaking the rain from his umbrella and platinum locks. Lisa gives you a smirk as she nods her head towards the register and steps away from the counter, as if silently saying, "You're up, m'lady. Holler if you need me; I'll be doing an order in the back."

You brush your hair back into proper place, display a genuine smile, and take your stance behind the register. When Namjoon's eyes meet yours, his smile deepens and creates dimples on either side of his mouth.

After the customer in front of him pays and leaves with his order in hand, you greet him with a simple, "You haven't been in, in over a week. Finally trying to break your caffeine addiction?"

Namjoon gives a deep laugh and shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. I like being able to function as an adult in society, thank you very much." He pulls out several won from his wallet. "I'll have..."

"The usual?"

He cocks an eyebrow. "You remember?"

"Of course," you grin, and type his drink of choice into the register. Taking his money, you add, "How could I forget your order after the hilarious reaction when I suggested a mint mocha?"

The boy thinks back to the first day he walked into the café, and recalls that conversation with a groan. "Oh god, was I that bad?"

Handing him his change, you tap your chin and reply, "Well, maybe a bit. I'd never seen someone so horrified at the idea of mint chocolate."

Namjoon rubs the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "Sorry about that. Pretty terrible at hiding my disdain for that flavor combo."

"No worries! Made me laugh."

Seeing that there are no other customers behind him, you turn to the brewing station and usher Namjoon to take a seat on the bar stool across the counter. It's a position you've taken several times before. When the customers are low, as they are at this hour of evening, the platinum-haired man tends to linger and converse far after his drink is finished.

"What brings you in today? Just wanted a pick-me-up or?"

Namjoon heaves a sigh. He watches you closely but casually, silently admiring the skillful way you begin to brew the dark beverage. "I've had a lot on my mind lately, and coming here always helps me de-stress."

"Coffee helps you relax?" You can't help but chuckle at the sentiment.

"And the company."

Heat rushes to your face, and when you glance up to meet his gaze, the warmth only increases. "You're smooth, Kim Namjoon. Very smooth."

Brown eyes widen, and he bows his head so that his bangs cover his eyes. "That's not what I meant at all!"

"Calm down, you're fine. Wanna talk about what's on your mind, though?"

In all your conversations, the two of you have only ever talked on the shallow surface of various topics. You don't know much about Namjoon, and he doesn't know much about you — despite having shared extremely vague information about your year, your jobs, and your education. You feel very open with him, but most of the time, those conversations can't be had in a fifteen minute discussion at a café.

"It's a long, complicated story. I'm not sure you'd wanna hear it." He raises his hands defensively as he realizes how his words might be construed. "Not that you wouldn't understand! I just wouldn't want to be a downer."

You select the cold brew setting on the machine and let the device begin to whir to life. "Well, I've got at least the time it takes to make your drink. I'm all ears."

Namjoon shakes his head as he settles his elbows on the counter. "You're persistent."

"Honey, I've been called far worse."

Seeing your eagerness, your companion heaves a sigh and shifts his gaze from you to the window at his right. As be begins to speak, his demeanor falls a bit. He's not as happy-go-lucky; there's an err of anxiety about him that you can't quite nail down. "I've been thinking about a change in career recently. Things haven't been unfolding this year like I wanted...and I'm starting to think I'm not meant to do what I'm doing now. Maybe I need to retire — from this industry, I mean, and move on to another."

Even with that small confession, you can't help but mirror his emotions. "I hear you. I've felt similar feelings this year."

His gaze shifts back to yours, and he tilts his head in surprise. "Really? How so?"

"I told you I moved to Seoul in September, right?" Namjoon nods. "That's because I wanted a...a fresh start. I enrolled in Yonsei University, got a job here, and just...moved."

"That's pretty brave, and that's really awesome you're at Yonsei. They're a fantastic school."

"Thanks," you grin whilst popping the canister of cold brew out from under the brewing machine. "I needed to get away from certain people in my life that weren't letting me move forward, so moving was the best choice." You pour the dark beverage into a small mixer and pull out the vanilla creamer. "Sure you don't want mint this time? Last chance."

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow as a silent challenge; the expression makes you giggle to yourself as you pour the very non-mint add-ins. "Hilarious."

"Hey! Just offering." After giving the mixture a whisk, your smile falters.

Nothing gets by the observant person across the counter. "I feel like your story has a 'but' after what you ended with."

"You're good," you reply, gesturing to him with the handheld whisk. "I'm not talking too much, am I?"

Namjoon shakes his head adamantly and flourishes with his hand for you to continue. "I mean, we're practically friends now. Please, go on."

Reassured by both his calming nature and genuine interest, you continue talking. "But after getting here...let's just say it's hard to make friends and get out there in a country where you look so different, where your language isn't native, and where you know literally no one. So...ah, this year's been a pretty lonely one, and I know I still made the right choice, but now that the holidays are here..." You trail off and offer a small smile. "All that to say, I know what it's like to second-guess yourself and not have things go the way you thought."

"Seems we have a lot in common," he chuckles, leaning his chin on his hand.

The comment causes the mood to lighten, and you let a laugh slip out. "Yeah, seems so."

Before the conversation can continue, the front door opens. Yeongu enters, a couple of other customers behind him. As if on cue, Lisa enters from the back room and greets the adults with a smile and a swift, "Hi, welcome! What can I get you this evening?"

As the child approaches the adjacent counter where you stand, his grin widens. You perch your elbows on the counter and lean over. "How's my favorite customer?"

"I'm finally free from school, Ahjumma!" Yeongu cheers loudly.

"Congrats! I'm sure you're relieved." He nods affirmatively. "t's freezing outside. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, I promise. But can I get a mint hot choco?" He holds up a crumpled bill with a toothy grin.

"Of course, you can. Extra mint, just like I promised." You nod towards the seat closest to the window. "Sit in your usual spot, okay? After I get this nice man his coffee, I'll get your hot chocolate."

As Namjoon turns to look at the child, Yeongu's eyes widen in surprise. "Namjoon-hyung! I didn't know you were here."

Much to your shock, Namjoon reciprocates the affection and hops down from his chair to bend down to Yeongu's level. "Yeon-ie!" He teases the boy by ruffling up his hair, which Yeongu scowls at him for.

"Um... You two know each other?"

"Yep!" Yeongu grins. "He's my cousin, the one I told you about yesterday."

"Oooh, that makes sense. Didn't realize my two favorite customers were related."

Yeongu laughs at the comment and hops into the chair beside Namjoon. "But I'm your favorite customer, right?"

"Of course," you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Ahjumma, can I please have mine in a to-go cup? Mom told me to come right home so we can finish packing for our trip."

"Of course, give me just a second to get you a lid." You turn to your first customer with an apologetic smile. "Namjoon, I'm almost done with yours. Just give me a moment."

"Actually, do you mind putting mine in a to-go cup as well?" He jerks his thumb towards Yeongu. "I should probably walk him home. He lives just around the corner from me. I'd feel better if I did."

"Oh, sure, I can do that."

"Would you walk with us, Ahjumma? Pleeeease?"

Your gaze moves to Namjoon. "Do you mind?"

The elder cousin hops up from his chair, shaking his head adamantly. "Not at all! Can you?"

"Sure, I'm about at the end of my shift anyway! Let me grab my coat. I'll come with." You turn quickly to Lisa, murmuring, "Can you watch—?"

She cuts you off with a wave of her hand. "—Go! I can close up for the night. But if you don't come back with a date planned, the invitation to spend New Years with Jungkookie and me is rescinded."

With a playful eye-roll, you peck her on the cheek and run to the back for your coat. Once you return, you find Namjoon scuffling Yeongu's dark locks with a dimpled smile. Looking back up as you return, the expression doesn't falter.

"Ready?"

You nod and follow behind through the exit, trying to ignore the wink and dual thumbs-ups Lisa flashes you as you pass.

Once on the street, Yeongu walks ahead of you and Namjoon. The first few minutes are silent between you two. From ahead, you can hear the small child talking to himself, or perhaps his hot chocolate, and then occasionally to the adults.

As you cross the busy street, Namjoon clears his throat. "So...you have any plans for Christmas?"

You scoff under your breath and shake your head. "Why does this topic keep coming up?"

"Hope I didn't offend," he laughs. "Yeongu said something about a café girl not having plans last night. I figured it was you."

"Trust me, you're good. But yeaaah. Kinda new to Korea. I spent the fall settling in and trying to start over. Between work and school, didn't expect much. Holidays sneaked up on me, I guess."

There's a pause as the trio rounds the corner. Yeongu finishes his hot cocoa along the way and hands the empty cup to Namjoon. The elder doesn't even hesitate to take it, and the boy rushes ahead to what you assume is his home. Over his shoulder, he shouts, "Thank you for the choco, Ahjumma!"

You grin widely and wave. "You're welcome!"

Yeongu turns to Namjoon, sticks out his tongue in a playful manner, then disappears into his house.

"Aaand that's the thanks I get." Namjoon rolls his eyes and turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention as the sun sets behind Seoul Tower. "I have a crazy idea."

"Oh, really?" You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. "Those are my favorite kind of ideas."

"Cheesy," he grins. "Well...I don't have any plans either. Maybe we spend it together?"

"No plans, huh? Do I look that pitiful?"

"No! No, it's not that at all, god." Namjoon's smirk falls from his face as a horrified expression drowns out any humor. "Sorry if that's how it came off. I just—You seem really nice, and it's been a while since either of us just enjoyed someone else's company. No strings. No pressure."

Tugging your lower lip between your teeth, you shuffle in your step. "I don't know, Namjoon..."

"Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I hate to see anyone's shoulders so heavy in December. How about this — give me three days to prove the magic isn't lost."

"Three days? That's it?"

"That's it."

"Okay then, Mr. Kim." You offer a hand in his direction. "Three days."

Namjoon's eyes lock with yours, as does his hand. "It's a deal."

The following weekend you wake to a phone call coming in from your recently-added number. Rolling out from under the covers to grab the device from the nightstand, you answer with voice still groggy with sleep. "Hello?"

"Are you still sleeping?" the caller laughs in a deep timbre.

"Shuddup." Peaking an eye open, the time on the screen reads just after eleven a.m. "It's not that late."

"Really?"

"Did you call me just to make fun of my lack of healthy sleep schedule, or did you have a point?"

"Ouch!” Namjoon exclaims playfully. “I actually did call, and it's actually perfect because I don't need you ready to go until around three this afternoon. So you can totally just go back to sleep."

You curl back under your heated blanket and revel in the warmth it provides. Beside you, Mochi curls closer, nearly sitting on your head. "Mmm sounds perfect. Wait—what?"

"You heard me." There's a hint of teasing in Namjoon's words. "It's Day 1. Be ready for an outdoor adventure by three. I'll pick you up then, okay sleepyhead?"

The butterflies rumble in your stomach at the nickname, and you clear your throat before replying. "Yep, got it. Three p.m. Outdoor adventure. Can't you tell me what it is or where we're going?"

"And ruin the surprise? No way. Just trust me, Jagi."

A squeak slips out, and you throw your hand over your mouth to hide it. "Okay, see you there—I mean then!"

You can almost hear Namjoon shaking his head as he says his goodbyes and ends the call. Despite still being sleepy and warm and cozy in your nest, you lie wide awake in bed for the next half-hour, replaying his voice over and over in your head like a well-loved record.

The day flies by, and eventually it's approaching three. You've dressed to impress while still trying to keep it casual. Despite this being a date, it's still casual. You like Namjoon a lot, and you hope he likes you as well. However, outside of conversations at the café, you haven't spent a lot of time together yet. This is as good a second-first impression as any, and you intend to make the most of it.

Grabbing your winter coat and scarf, you scurry down the stairs and spot Namjoon lingering by the entrance with two cups in his hands. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater with a dark grey jacket over top, his usual scarf looped twice around his neck. A beanie covers his head, but bits of his platinum hair still stick out in places. Slung across his shoulder is a brown leather backpack. He always looks nice, that much you know, but the fact that today he looks nice for you makes you sickly happy.

He flashes a smile as you bound out the door. "You look rested," he teases, then offers you one of the cups.

Taking it with a nose scrunch, you look down at the order on the side, seeing that it's your usual order. "How did you know!"

He shrugs. "I have my ways."

"Was it Lisa?"

"Maybe..." He straightens up and nods his chin towards the nearby station. "Follow me for our first adventure!"

After boarding the train to Itaewon, you can't help but wonder where he might be taking you. Your mind goes through all of the things to do in Itaewon, but the list is lengthy. From his excited and proud expression, you know Namjoon has been looking forward to this all day, just as you have.

After exiting fifteen minutes down the line, Namjoon reaches for your free hand. "May I...?"

Your fingers close the distance, glove-covered palm clasping his. "Lead the way."

Namjoon grins, then tugs on your hand as you exit the station. Once outside in the frigid air, you see your breath come out in puffs of fog. You tighten your scarf around your neck and allow your companion to usher you down the sidewalk, towards a clearing in the colorful buildings of Itaewon-do.

Another block or so, and you see the direction in which he's heading. A large sign along the way reads, "Grant Hyatt Seoul Ice Rink" in bold Hangul. Your eyes widen as the realization hits you, and the excitement inside you grows. "How did you know I've wanted to go ice skating!"

Namjoon shuffles up to the ticket counter, replying over his shoulder, "Um...lucky guess?"

As he purchases your tickets, you take a moment to absorb your surroundings.  The trees are glowing from the lights covering every branch and trunk. They surround the rink and give a glow from within that is so much softer and more intimate than the harsh lighting of the city. The Hyatt Hotel stands as a black silhouette against the horizon. In the opposite direction, you can see N. Seoul Tower already lit up as the afternoon lighting shifts to evening. Projectors shine shapes of glittering snowflakes across the ice, giving another layer of ambient lighting to the rink.

"I haven't been since I was a kid," you add, staring at the exterior of the open-air rink with awe. Namjoon hands you the ticket, which you use for entrance and skates before shoving it into your jacket pocket. "Have you ever been before?"

"Yeah, a...few times. Hey, what size shoe are you?" When you tell him, Namjoon grabs a pair of skates from the shelf beside the ticket booth and gestures for you to sit on the bench across from it. "It can be tricky to lace your skates properly," he commentates as he kneels down in front of you and begins to untie your boots. "It's really something you have to adjust yourself, so let me know when I'm close?"

Not having any words to respond at his sudden closeness, you nod the affirmative and watch in silence as he puts one boot to the side, slips the skate on with ease, and begins to adjust the laces like a professional. After repeating the movements with your other skate, he taps your knee and looks up at you.

"Too loose? You want them to be as tight as you can handle to keep your ankles steady."

Moving your feet, you shake your head from side to side. "A bit more. I'd hate to have Day 1 turn into a trip to the E.R."

"Definitely, nothing says ‘Christmas magic’ like an emergency room visit," he laughs, adjusting your laces as you requested. "How's that?"

"Much better, thank you."

After lacing up your skates as tight as you can handle, Namjoon stands and offers you an arm. He helps you waddle over to the entrance, gently sliding you onto the ice despite your shaky knees and flailing arms. You soon realize that it might be best to hold tight to the barrier and stick only to the periphery.

He doesn't follow you on at first. When you turn and look back for him, he waves you on. "You go ahead. I need to grab my skates first."

"Mmm fine, but if I break my neck trying to catch your ass, you're paying for ramen after. Got it?"

Namjoon gives you two thumbs ups as he lets you go onto the ice. "Loud and clear."

Eventually, you begin tugging yourself along, trying but failing to keep up with the traffic of more experienced skaters. Even compared to those half your age, or even less, you're the child on this rink.

About half-way around the rink, you spot Namjoon making his way towards the entrance. Waving your hand, your smile widens when he sees you. He waves back, nearly bumps into the person ahead of him at the gate, and you murmur to yourself, "This should be good."

Namjoon hits the ice. He's not like the barreling disaster you are, but like a graceful swan. It catches you off-guard; if anything, you expected him to fall flat on his face or tumble over a child on his way over to you on the opposite side. He needs no assistance from the railing, nor does he struggle to cross the center and come to a full stop in front of you. His skates make a graceful scraping sound, and his stance is one of a professional. Even his skates are different than yours; they're custom, and you realize that must've been what he was carrying in his backpack.

You assume the awestruck look on your face is the reason for his smirk and laughter. He does a spin for dramatic affect as he closes the distance between you. "Surprised?"

"For starters! How the hell are you so graceful? You're literally twirling around on one foot on a frictionless surface, and I can barely make a left turn!"

The platinum blond gives you a look like you're still missing the point, then extends his hand. "C'mon, I can help you more than the railing can."

"Promise not to sue me if I break your face by crashing into you?"

"Promise, now grab my hand and skate!"

Your hands in his, you take the leap of faith and separate from the barrier around the oblong rink. Namjoon slowly skates backwards, carrying you the whole way. Your eyes remain glued to your trembling feet, careful not to have the blades deviate too far out to one side or the other.

"Look at you!" he cheers, ever the positive one. "A whole two minutes on your feet."

"Shut up."

You won't deny that your progress surprises even you. Despite having to hold both his hands for the first ten minutes, then eventually one as you skate side-by-side for the following half-hour, you're more adept at skating than you thought you would be.

"You think you can try on your own for a lap?" he inquires.

Giving a hesitant nod, you let go of Namjoon's hand, saying, "Don't leave my side, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Taking a deep breath in, you push one skate out in front of the other and move yourself forward. The other follows after, and you get about twenty feet before you stumble and nearly fall face-first. Luckily, Namjoon keeps his promise and wraps his arms around your waist before you crash.

"Good try!" he exclaims, keeping his arms around your middle even after you regain your balance. "You got pretty far, actually."

You give an awkward chuckle and lay your nervous hands over his at your hip. "Maybe I'm not quite ready for a free-skate yet."

"No worries." He lets his arms drop and retakes your hand to steady you. The dimples appear next to his smile as he adjusts your beanie on your head, which had nearly fallen off in your almost-fall. "But I gotta say, you didn't have to fall for me on Day 1."

"So smooth!" You roll your eyes and give his shoulder a playful shove, only to gasp and reach back for him when he naturally skates backwards at the push. "Nevermind, I take it back. Please don't leave me in the middle of the rink."

Namjoon lets out a loud laugh, nearly doubling over as you cling to him. "You're so cute."

As you skate together, you keep getting the feeling that Namjoon has spent far more time on the ice than you previously assumed. After you get the hang of it yourself and are able to wobble along beside him without a constant hand to hold, he smiles a proud, wide smile.

"See? I knew you could do it!"

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Still nowhere near close to you."

"That's what a lot of people say," he brushes it off.

"Way to brag there, Joon," you snort, then immediately freeze in place so suddenly that you nearly fall over again. "Wait—you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

Namjoon's smile shows his dimples, and they deepen with his reply. "Not a bit." The song changes, playing the symphonic piece "Noel on Ice." Namjoon's face lights up, and he turns back to you with a wink. "Watch me?"

Nodding affirmatively, you release his hand and let him skate towards the center of the rink. His gaze remains on you as he spins to a stop in the middle, then turns his gaze downwards. Arms still at his sides, and his shoulders straighten. You await with bated breath for the next note.

The melody lifts, and Namjoon's arms follow suit. Piano notes drip across the chilled air, and the violin prompts an extension of his hands upwards. Then he moves, gracefully flowing from one movement to the next, as if this has been an ice dance built into his very being. The harp and cello urge him to move faster, spinning like a dancer across their stage.

Namjoon spins into the air, fully coming off the ice. Your hands fly up to cover your mouth out of fear, but he lands it with ease, shifting into his next series of steps like a professional. Flawless and practiced, he's caught the attention of everyone at the rink. As you look around, you see everyone else focused intently on the skater. Some even have their phones out to record. Not just one or two people, either; you see at least a half dozen with their cameras trained on Namjoon.

That in particular has you perplexed. Brows pulling together, you shift your eyes back to Namjoon. The piece is nearing its close, and he's moved back to the center of the ice. Twirling in place, he's moving like a spinning top. Always in a single place, so fast you can barely see, gracefully shaving ice under him so that snowflakes fall around him. He lowers, nearly sitting as he continues to twirl on one foot. The music grows to its crescendo. Slowly, he rises up and extends his hands towards the sky.

And then it hits you.

There's a reason why his face, his voice, and his presence is so familiar to you. You couldn't put your finger on it until just now, but the way he moves on the ice like he's the only one in the room — like it's a second home — brings you back to one of the first days you had in Seoul. That first day, at the Incheon Airport, the man you saw being bombarded with press and fans. Then again on the screens in the lobby of the immigration center. And again a few nights ago on the news.

RM Nam. South Korea's pride and joy, their greatest skater, the man bound for the Winter Olympics until a training injury earlier in the year put him out for the season. You're not into sports, but even you knew him by name and the tragedy that had occurred.

That legendary skater was the one in front of you now. He hadn't mentioned it, and you didn't suspect a thing until today. While definitely a shock, you can't help but be in awe of him even more. He isn't just good on the ice — he's like nothing you've ever seen.

As the music comes to a close, Namjoon skates to a halt. His spin finishes, and he ends with a ending pose bow. Clearly out of breath and shoulders heaving, his gaze shifts to you once again. Your smile widens, and you throw your hands up as you cheer. The others around you begin to clap, but you're by far the most enthusiastic one there.

Suddenly, Namjoon's persona returns to that of a shy and humble one. He bows again in the directions of the viewers, then scurries out from the center and back to you. Eventually, those around you begin to skate once more, ignoring the fact that one of the biggest sports icons in all of Korea is among them.

Namjoon runs a hand over his bleached hair, his smile sweet and his eyes a little nervous as he approaches. You shake your head in awe, letting a surprised laugh slip out.

"Okay, I see exactly what you're doing now. You suggested ice skating because you're Olympic-level! That's totally cheating, by the way."

Namjoon skids to a stop in front of you, as graceful as his takeoff. Without thinking, you reach your hand for his, which he gladly takes. "Figured it out finally, did you?"

"Call me stupid, but I honestly didn't see it until just now." You shove his shoulder with your free hand, only encouraging his teasing reaction. "RM: Guessing that's a stage name?"

He adjusts the beanie over his hair and gives an affirmative gesture. "Yeah, mainly to protect my privacy. Skating world can get pretty intense, sometimes."

You move your chin towards his shoulder, recalling that's where the injury occurred over the summer. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, totally okay. I go to PT a couple times a week. Mostly healed up, just can't compete for another few months. My coach has made me swear off skating until the New Year, but I figured it was worth throwing a little extra into trying to impress a pretty girl." He tilts his head to the side, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. "Did it work?"

Instead of responding verbally, you curl your finger towards you, a mischievous smile on your face. Namjoon lowers his head and skates closer to you. When he's within arm's reach, you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. A giggle slips out as his eyes widen and his cheeks flush.

"So... Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, throwing your arms in the air and nearly falling over for the hundredth time that night.

Namjoon returns the chaste gesture to your temple as he helps you recover your balance. "Skate with me some more then?" he murmurs, adjusting your scarf around your neck with gentle fingers.

Your face hot and your stomach fluttery, you nod your response and loop your arm around his. "Only if you show me how to do that fancy twirl there at the end."

The idea has Namjoon laughing loudly. "That's my variation on the basic Scratch Spin, which took me about three months to nail perfectly in a routine."

"Then you'd better prepare to be here 'til February!"

After skating for hours, until both of you are exhausted and ready for food, Namjoon takes you to a nearby ramen shop that's close to the train station. It's a hole-in-the-wall, with less than five tables, but with ramen you're able to find a park bench and settle down there with your backs to the city lights and your eyes on the stars overhead. You each mostly in silence, just enjoying each other's company and the delicious food. You make sure to tell your companion how great the choice was, and you insist on coming back again soon.

After wrapping up the meal and seeing the late hour on your phone, Namjoon suggests you both start heading home. "Hate to have to take a bus at this hour instead of the last train," he snickers.

Fully in agreement, you let him take your hand again as the pair of you begin to walk back home. First on the train, then on the sidewalk the short distance to your apartment building.

As you turn the corner onto your short street, your apartment in sight, you rest your head against Namjoon's shoulder and sigh happily. "Thank you for today. It was just...magical."

"Christmas magic?"

You nod against his jacket, wistful and content. "Definitely."

Stopping outside your apartment, you turn towards him, not letting go of his hand. Namjoon gives you a content smile as he looks at you, one where his eyes glisten at his coming words. "Then I have a chance."

"At what?"

He reaches yet again for your scarf, moving it from around your lower face so he can cradle it in his hands. "Restoring your hope in the holidays, and your hope in yourself and your choices."

"Ooof, that's getting ahead of it, I think." You bite the inside of your cheek as a small tug of anxiety and sense of being lost pulls at the back of your mind.

But Namjoon is relentless in his pursuit, and for that you're grateful. "That's why I have two more days planned."

"Already?" you laugh.

"You bet!" he exclaims. "In fact, I'll pick you up at nine on Saturday, but don't wear a dress or skirt. Are you free then?"

"For you, absolutely."

His teeth show through his grin, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyebrows. The gesture is gentle and sweet, made even more so by the warmth of his hands on your cheeks through his gloves. Nevertheless, it leaves you breathless.

After a moment of silence, he pulls away and lowers his grasp, but you crave the contact as soon as he relinquishes it. He nods towards your apartment, as if saying, "I'm not leaving until you're home safe."

You take the hint and give a tiny wave as you enter your building. "Have a great night, Joonie," you whisper through the cracked door. "And thanks again."

Namjoon waves back. "Goodnight, [Y/n]. Sleep well."

Saturday can't come quickly enough. You find yourself smiling more often, a joyful feeling in your heart as you go about your work shift and college classes. Even the smallest and insignificant things feel a little easier. The weather wasn't just cold anymore; it was full of beauty and hope and Christmas spirit.

Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe he was helping you turn a corner.

Right before you're ready to head downstairs to meet Namjoon at the entrance, your phone begins to buzz. Lit up on the screen is an international number, but the area code is that of your old home. The butterflies of excitement die almost instantly, shriveling up into tiny balls of anxiety in your stomach.

Even though you ignore the call, you can't resist listening to the voicemail left behind. Putting your phone on speaker, you're shocked to hear your mother's voice wishing you a Merry Christmas, saying that she and the family miss you, and that they wished you would visit so you could clear up everything that went wrong over the summer. Your throat constricts at the sickly sweet tone; her voice always did drip in honey when she wanted something, she she was trying to manipulate her child. Between her conniving control and your father's lack of respect for privacy and personal boundaries, you remember all over again why you left.

You jump as your apartment bell rings, and the small screen by the door shows Namjoon at the entrance. "[Y/n], are you up there? I texted twice...not sure if you got those."

Looking down at your screen, you see that he's right. You have two unread texts from the last five minutes that you missed due to the unexpected caller. Shaking yourself out of it, you shoot him a quick response, close everything out, and head for the ground level.

"There you are!" Namjoon greets with a grin that almost makes you forget your mother's call.

Almost.

Forcing a smile and reply, "Sorry, I don't know why I didn't see your texts."

"No worries." He waves his hand as if to say it's nothing to worry about. "Are you okay? You seem bothered about something."

You glance up at him, unable to deny he looks slightly concerned. You mirror his laissez-faire attitude and brush it off. "Totally good. Heading to the station?"

"Not this time." Namjoon gestures towards the bike parked by the corner of the building. "You ready to go?"

"Both of us, on that? Are you sure that's safe?"

"Oh yeah! Trust me." He kicks the stand down and mounts the bike, patting the extended seat behind him. "I once rode up Namsan Mountain with Seokjin on the back of this thing, and let me tell you, he's a hell of a lot bigger than you."

Knowing he's probably right, you settle yourself on the seat behind him and wrap your arms tightly around his middle. It's probably not the most well-balanced thing in the world, but you trust Namjoon more than you buy into your fear of falling. "No skirts or dresses, huh?"

"Now you get it," he laughs, pulling out onto the bike lane on the street headed into towards the older side of the city. "Unless you'd like a wardrobe malfunction."

He picks up speed and gets to an easy pace down the street. It's fast enough to get to your location speedily but slow enough that you're able to stare at the beautiful buildings and wondrous landscape around you. Even the people have an aura of happiness caused by Christmas. Had it always been this stunning? Or had you been blind to it until just now?

"Seokjin, as in Kim Seokjin, your rival?"

"So you do watch the news," he sighs. "They aren’t portraying us as friends these days, are they?"

You shake your head and rest your chin on his shoulder. "Not really. I didn't know you were friends."

Namjoon shrugs his shoulders slightly, his voice monotone. "Yeah, well, we've known each other since we were seven, got into skating together around that time, and have been friends ever since. While I wish I didn't have to sit this one out, I couldn't be happier to have him representing South Korea at the Worlds — sorry, that's what we call the World Figure Skating Championships."

"Yeah, they're kind of painting you as opposites."

"That's just what the news does, I guess. Gossip and tabloids and fan-wars. I fell on the ice and hit my shoulder pretty hard; it had nothing to do with Seokjin. He and I talked before I left, too. We're on good terms. Most of us from South Korea are friends, actually. We only get represented as enemies because it's a competition. But a lot of times we're on the same flights, in the same hotels, in the same training areas, you get the idea."

Namjoon pulls up to a stoplight at a near empty intersection, waiting silently for it to shift colors. "Is that what you meant by change of career?" you inquire.

"You're observant," he chuckles.

You turn to rest your cheek on his back. "For what it's worth, and keep in mind that I don't know the first thing about figure skating or your injury or anything like that, but as someone on the outside looking in, you're still so talented. Last week, when you were skating alone, I couldn't tell at all you were injured, and you looked like you were really enjoying it. I don't know if that means anything to you coming from a novice, but if you're still in love with skating and want to get back out there, I think you should go for it. You're still spectacular to watch, Joonie."

There's a beat of silence, but then Namjoon glances over his shoulder and winks at you. "Would you come see me perform live if I did?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you state, "Why not?"

He laughs at your silly expression, then begins to move the bike again as the light finally shifts. "That actually means a lot, [Y/n]. Thank you."

The rest of the ride is quiet, at least until you begin to hear the sounds of a bustling outdoor market. Namjoon turns the final corner, and you're elated with the stone street in an older part of Seoul. Vendors in various booths stretch out in every direction. Some sell food or drink, some sell trinkets or clothing, some even sell vintage books or vinyls or movies. Every nook and cranny has something special to offer. The sights, smells and sounds bring an enormous smile to your face as Namjoon steadies the bike to a stop beside the bicycle rack.

You hop off with his help, nearly bouncing up and down from excitement as he parks and locks his bike on the stand. "This is amazing!" Turning to him, you catch him off-guard with a tight embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him down to you.

Namjoon seems amused by your eager reaction, and he pulls you closer to him. "I thought you would like it. There's nothing quite like Christmas than a market."

After letting him go, you press a kiss to his cheek as you lower back down to your level. Namjoon's hands tenderly cradle your face, just like last time, only today he's glancing away from  your eyes and down to your lips. As your heartbeat quickens, you pull him back to you, fingers grasping at his winter jacket.

His voice is deep and soft as he asks, "May I...?"

Your cheeks flush as you nod your approval. Namjoon's dimples deepen as he lowers his face to yours, barely brushing his lips against yours in the gentlest kiss you've ever had. You close the distance, tugging at his jacket so he moves closer. He gives a tiny laugh against your mouth, then follows your guidance to deepen the kiss. One hand slips back to your hair; he gently plays with the strands.

A moment later, and you're sighing as he pulls away, both light-headed and light-hearted. Namjoon smiles down at you, gives you a surprising second peck, then pulls back with a chuckle. "You're a really cute kisser, y'know that?"

You drop your head and hide your face in the front of his coat. "Shut up."

Your companion's laughter echoes in the air around you as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and places his lips briefly on the top of your head. "Are you hungry? I know where we can get the absolute best Tteok-kkochi."

Eventually you lift your head and nod, feeling your stomach rumble at the thought of rice cake skewers. Namjoon moves his arm from around your shoulders, taking your hand instead, and ushers you into the first aisle of the Christmas market.

If it was magical from the outside, it's even more so from within. Somewhere in the distance, you hear holiday music playing. Not the commercial Christmas songs you're used to, but instrumental music that plays perfectly with the sounds of the market crowds. You're awestruck by every single booth you pass, and Namjoon promises to take you back to all of them after you grab a bite to eat.

Which are well worth the walk into the interior of the market. The Tteok-kkochi are cooked to perfection, drowned in a sauce, and by far the best you've ever had. Even after circling back to the booths you missed on the way, you beg Namjoon to lead you back to get another set.

"I've found heaven," you exclaim dramatically, taking the next two from the cook behind the counter and hanging one to your companion. "I'll never have rice cake skewers this good again."

After paying, you spot a section of the market decorated with lights and colorful orbs, much like the decorations you're used to seeing in the West. "Can we go over there next?"

Namjoon spots where you're pointing and eagerly agrees. The pair of you make your way towards the greenery and decor, amazed at the giant Christmas trees decorated to perfection on the periphery of the market.

"That's a massive tree," he gasps, staring upwards. "Are those normal in America?"

"Maybe at a mall or outside a hotel or something," you reply, equally as taken back. "I've never seen one that big in person in a long time."

As you peruse the Christmas section of the market, slipping from booth to booth as the clock strikes Noon, Namjoon asks, "Have you decorated your apartment at all? I know it can be kinda hard to find stuff in Korea like you're used to."

"Not really," you admit in passing. "Between work and school and, y'know, starting a new life in a foreign country, the holidays kinda fell on the back-burner."

Namjoon taps your shoulder, ushering your attention towards the old, American Christmas movies booth a few spots away. You gasp and rush over with renewed excitement, eyes scanning eagerly over the shelves. They have just about everything, from the classics like "It's A Wonderful Life" and "A Christmas Carol" to movies you grew up on like "Home Alone" and "Elf." The more you sort through the outdated DVDs, the bigger your smile gets.

"What's your favorite Christmas movie?" Namjoon asks, casually looking through the Christmas vinyls on the booth next to the movies.

"Without a doubt, Ron Howard's 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas.'"

"The one with Jim Carrey?"

"You know it!"

He laughs. "Yeah, my little sister and I watched it a lot when we were kids."

Your head perks up at the mention of a sister. "I didn't know you had siblings, either."

Namjoon nods. "Yeah, she's in college, too. Studying to be a psychologist."

"She sounds amazing."

"Yeah, the family is very proud. I know I am." He pulls out a vinyl for one of Frank Sinatra's Christmas records. "Do you have siblings?"

At the question, your gaze shifts back to the movies, hands preoccupied with finding the perfect one. "I do. A brother and a sister."

"Older?"

"Yeah..."

"What are they like?"

"A lot like my parents," you sigh, moving on to another shelf, turning your back to your companion. "Which is part of the reason I left, so..."

Namjoon senses your anxiety around the topic and rests a hand on your shoulder as he passes by. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize--"

You cut him off with a casual wave of your hand. "It's no worries, really." Spotting the record under his arm, you ask, "Find one you like?"

While he doesn't seem to buy your act, he lets the conversation go and holds up the vinyl for "Tales of Noel on Ice" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, as performed by the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra.

"You don't already have that one?" you gawk in surprise.

"I don't actually," he admits bashfully. "The title composition is one of my best free skate performances, and I have a record player at home, so why not?" He gestures to the movies. "Did you find one?"

"Oh, I don't need one! I was just looking. I don't even have a DVD player anymore."

"I do, so pick one out and maybe we can watch it sometime."

You shake your head at him, trying to subdue a chuckle. "A record player and a DVD player? You're so odd."

"But to your benefit," he reminds you with a wink, pulling out a single movie nearest him. It happens to be your favorite with Jim Carrey in all his hilarious glory on the front.

Cocking an eyebrow, you give a tiny round of applause at the luck of pulling that film out of all the others. "Well, you're going to have to invite me over sometime then."

"You can count on it."

For the next couple hours, Namjoon and you make your way through the entire market, hitting all the shops that interest and intrigue you. All the while, you talk about a plethora of things and get to know each other letter. For instance, you find out that he was born in Ilsan, not too far from where you are now, and that he hates seafood just about as much as mint chocolate. You also find out that he looks like his mother, who was the one that got him into skating to begin with. And to no one's surprise, Namjoon is actually very funny. Not only is he smart, athletic, and good looking — which alone would have caught your attention — he's got a wicked sense of humor to top it all off.

Likewise, he learns more about you. You tell him about the city you grew up in, the friends you had in high school, what you studied before you came to Korea. You tell him that along with your studies, you're really invested in writing and try to make time for that as well. It hasn't been so easy since the move, but you're hoping to get back to it in the new year.

As you approach mid-afternoon, and the final leg of the market, your phone begins to buzz. Your screen lights up with the same foreign number as before. Instantly, both your feet and your heart stop. Your shoulders tense up, and you turn to a blissfully unaware Namjoon, saying, "Hey, I gotta take this. You go on ahead."

"Are you sure?" he asks, the person in front of him not the same happy-go-lucky one as before.

You give him a nod of reassurance. "I'll catch up."

Before he can reply, you've turned and moved towards the massive Christmas trees, where there's an opening and the crowds are quieter. Despite what you told him, you don't intend on answering. Whoever is on the other end of that line, be it your mother or father or siblings, you want nothing to do with them. You do, however, want this to be over. You promise yourself to hear the message, block them, and then go run an errand after the holidays to get a new number.

After the call drops, you wait with an anxious feeling building in your stomach. Maybe they didn't leave a message. Maybe it wasn't your family after all. Maybe — 

A soft ping alerts you that you have a new message. Selecting it, you raise your phone to your ear and hear your father this time. He repeats all of what your mother said, only with a layer of frustration and authority that she didn't use. He's borderline cruel as he spouts the same old lies that you're trying to unlearn; it's your fault, it's because of you, you're the cause of it. What it is, depends on the day. This time is has to do with your family not being the same and their world falling to pieces. He uses colorful sentences, well-crafted insults, but all you hear is blame, blame, blame. 

Tears prick your eyes as the voicemail ends, and you realize you should've just deleted the message when you had the chance. A small part of you still hoped they would change, even after all this time, but you see now that it's not possible.

They will never change, and neither will you.

The pit of depression weighs down in your stomach, and loneliness tingles at the back of your throat. Why now? Out of all the times, out of all the days, why are you feeling these things now? You're out having an adventure with a man who you really like, and who you know likes you, in a city you now call home. You're far from any sadness or trauma or family or friends that once brought you down. You've left your past behind. You'd started to feel like there was hope in the holidays and in the future again, like the last year was worth the pain, like everything was starting to turn around.

But suddenly, that snake is wrapped around you again, pulling you back into old habits and old ways of thinking. It's grabbed on tight and is pulling you back into the dark, away from people you care about, away from people who care about you.

Even as you glance up at Namjoon a few stalls away, completely naïve to the painful flickers going through your mind, you feel the need to draw back. Pull away. Stay away. Go back to the security of the known, of the sad, of the lonely. It's warm and comfy, even if it hurts.

Clenching your fists, you try to silence the noise in your brain by shaking your head. The thoughts only grow louder, and the pit in your stomach gets heavier. You haven't felt a depressive episode like this in a long time. You thought they were long gone, especially now, especially with him...

"[Y/n]? Are you okay?"

Looking up, you see Namjoon's approaching you in the clearing. One hand carries the movie and vinyl he purchased for you both, but the other is outstretched towards you. While you don't pull away from his touch, you taste bile in the back of your throat.

"I—I need to go home," you mutter. "I'm starting to feel sick."

"Oh, okay, hold up I'll go get my bike and I'll take you home."

Feeling your breath quicken, you pull your gaze from Namjoon and nod shakily. The walk back to the bike rack is silent, even the crowd outside fades to a low background murmur. Namjoon places the purchased items in his bicycle carrier, then mounts it.

You follow suit, regret beginning to pile up inside you. Running isn't going to help anything, and you know he must be hurt and confused. But to you, the only thing you can do right now to protect yourself is get away from it all and go back to the place where you feel safest.

Tears burn your eyes as you curl up against him. Namjoon pedals speedily to your apartment, making the trip faster than last time. When he pulls up to the curb, you hop off without a word.

"Do you need me to walk you up?" he offers, worry causing his brows to pull together.

You shake your head and put distance between you both. "No, I'm fine. I'll...text you later, okay?"

Without another word, you turn and enter through the front, leaving Namjoon behind on the other side. Trekking up the stairs, through the door, past a mewling Mochi, you curl up on your bed and let yourself finally feel all the sadness piled up inside.

Fifteen minutes later, the waterworks flow when your phone lights up from an incoming text. Knowing exactly who it is, you grab it and text a swift message to Namjoon.

"I'm so sorry I left so suddenly. And that I ruined our day. Not feeling like myself."

"That's okay. I just got home, so I wanted to check up on you. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Do you need anything?"

"No, but thank you."

"Okay... Maybe we can try again some other time? I'd hate to let you down on Day 2."

Unable to reply, the phone turns black and you let it fall onto the duvet.

The days leading up until Christmas Eve were long and full of guilt. You closed the café for the final time the Monday before the holiday, and with no classes to attend, you mainly stayed inside and watched the snow fall outside your tiny apartment window. Mochi kept you company, but even the small fur ball could sense that something had changed for the worse. Even she had gotten used to you being happier this December; you'd taken two steps back while attempting to take a single step forward.

Every morning, you'd spot Namjoon riding his bike past your apartment on his way to the rink where he trains. Every day, he'd stop and gaze up at the building, never sure which frosty window you were behind but melancholy just the same. He'd call and text; the former, you would never answer, but the latter, you did sporadically. Mainly at night when you thought he wouldn't be up.

He usually was.

"Was it something I did?" he asked that Tuesday before Christmas. "Did I move too fast? Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"No. It's not you."

"Then tell me what it is. I don't want to come across as pushy, but I thought we were getting closer...and then you pull back and hide from me. From everyone. I know I don't know everything about your past or what happened before you came to Seoul, but I promised you three adventures. I still have one to make good on before Christmas."

"Joonie..."

You couldn't bring yourself to write more. The tiny part of your brain that told you that maybe this can work, maybe it's worth trying, maybe things can be different now, it was silenced by the overwhelming majority of your mind. It remembered everything from your past, from the hurt and pain, from the loneliness and fear. Despite your wish to make things right again, it was drowned out by the pure terror of being wronged again.

"Don't shut me out. Please. Let me show you things can be different now. You don't have to go at this alone, [Y/n]. Not anymore."

Pushing down the urge to cry yet again, you move your fingers to type a swift and cold reply. "I'm so sorry I wasted your time, Namjoon. I really am. I thought I was ready, but it's clear that I'm not. Please, spend Christmas with your family. Don't waste any more time on me."

And that was the end of it. You muted his notifications, ignored his calls and texts, and eventually he went silent. The day before Christmas Eve was the first you didn't hear from him, and it was the first day you felt like you'd truly fucked things up for good.

On Christmas Eve, you got an unexpected call from Lisa. Deciding to take a break from staring at an empty Word document with ever-growing frustration, you answered the call, only to be bombarded by Lisa's rambling.

"Oh, thank god! I didn't think you'd answer! I need a huge favor, and I hate to bother on such short notice on Christmas Eve, but this really cannot wait and I'll love you forever if you—!"

"—Okay, okay," you chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.

"I need you to run back to the café and grab something for me. Jungkook is on his way there, but he doesn't have a key."

"What could you possibly have left that's this important?"

"My fucking credit card."

"You've been out of town for two weeks and only just now realized you left your card?"

She heaves a frustrated sigh. "Please, just, do me this favor?"

Rolling your eyes, you pull yourself from the sofa and grab your keys on the counter. "Fine, but you owe me."

"Yes, yes, I know."

You leave the apartment in a hurry, taking the next train to the café. In less than fifteen minutes, you're at the front door. Lisa assures you that Jungkook is on his way, only twenty minutes away. After unlocking it, you make yourself at home in the lobby with a fresh white chocolate mocha. It reminds you of Yeongu, and you smile at the thought.

After about a half hour, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Lisa's text has you halting in place.

"I'm sorry to do this. You didn't really give me another choice. I crossed a line, but I think you'll thank me in the end."

Your fingers are swift typing a response. "What did you do?"

"You remember how you gave me a spare key in case you ever got locked out? Or in case you were kept at school too long and needed someone to feed Mochi?" A pause, then she adds, "He came to Busan, [Y/n]. He asked me in person what to do. Do you know how out of the way that was for him? Give him another chance. Please."

"You didn't."

"I did. I'm sorry, but you've talked about how you pull away when you get close to people. It's gone on for almost a week. It's Christmas Eve. You can hate me all you want later, but please. Go home, kiss and make up, then try to salvage Christmas."

A huff of air exits your nostrils as it hits you. Lisa's given the spare to Namjoon. Jungkook was never on his way; this was all a rouse to get you out of your apartment long enough for him to get inside. But to what end?

"He's good for you; I can tell that much already. If you ever were to give someone the benefit of the doubt and place your broken pieces in someone's hands, he's the best you're gonna find."

A pang of truth rocks through you, and while you have still a semblance of willpower, you shoot her a swift text and rush back for the station. "I'm still mad at you, but we'll talk later. I need to get home."

"Go get him!"

The series of stairs up to your apartment never felt so long. Out of breath and winded from rushing home, you find the door unlocked. Pushing through, the place you left less than an hour ago isn't the same as it was before.

The entrance hallway is glittering, multi-colored strands of twinkle lights hanging along the periphery. Fake snow lines the trim, and paper snowflakes are tossed across the furniture. Each one is unique and hand-crafted.

As you venture further, a rainbow array aurora covers your living room and kitchen. There must be at least a dozen lengthy strands of Christmas lights hung across the few items you've unpacked, circled around the sealed boxes, and framing every window and door.  Fake icicles hang on the windowsill, fake greenery lays where curtains should be, and a small Christmas tree stands at your height in the corner.

Jovial, English holiday music plays softly in the background. And humming along to the tune of The First Noel, Namjoon stands with bent-back facing you. He's finishing his final touches on the tree, ensuring that each sparkling orb and shimmering tinsel is perfect. He adjusts the star on the top with a smile to himself, oblivious still to your entrance.

For a moment, you stand in silence and watch him. Your heart is heavy but still beating. If anything, seeing him in the midst of such a sweet and selfless act makes it flutter. Even after cutting his well-planned adventure short, ignoring him for over a week, and telling him to stop speaking to you, he's still here. He came back, and he's trying to prove to you the truth he's been spouting all along.

Eventually, you blink out of your stupor and clear your throat to alert him to your presence. Namjoon turns on his heel, elbow grazing the tree just enough to send it toppling backward. He curses and lunges for it, grabbing it by the star just in time to keep it upright. His characteristic clumsiness prompts a snicker from you, one that you attempt to hide with your hand over your mouth.

Namjoon adjusts the tree and turns back to you with a bashful expression. His lips pull into a side-smile, a single dimple popping out in the process. "H—Hi..."

"Hi," you repeat back to him, letting your hand fall. Your eyes follow suit and drift to your damp, snow-covered shoes.

A beat of silence passes where neither of you knows what to say next. Then the both of you break it at once, words tumbling over each others several times in a row. You laugh to yourself and look back up at him; Namjoon smiles down at you, shaking his head at the awkward reunion.

He gestures silently to you. "Go ahead."

You clear your throat, then say, "I...I wanted to say that I owe you an apology."

He shakes his head firmly, extending his hands in a olive-branch manner. "No, you don't—"

Your feet move back, putting space between you both. "—Can I explain and finish, please? Just...hold your forgiveness until then." At your request, your companion falls silent, letting his hands fall respectfully at his side. Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, you re-calibrate your mind and prepare for your admission.

"There's a lot you don't know about me yet," you begin softly. "Ah, shit — That came out super mean. I mean, you know a lot about me. You kinda know why I moved to Korea, the situation with my family back in America, that whole thing. You know where I work and what I'm studying. You know my favorite drink of all time is a white chocolate mocha, and that my favorite customer is barely four feet tall. You know Lisa is my shield at work, and that we've become pretty close in less than a year. You know I'm a homebody and that my favorite thing to do by myself is play with Mochi and watch dramas."

You release a huff of air and raise your eyes to meet his, a wistful smile tugging the corners of your lips. "But there's a lot I haven't told you — or anyone for that matter. I've gone through...a lot of shit this year. When I moved to Seoul, my mental health was in the trash, and my self worth was in shambles. I'd just been shoved from everything I'd ever known into a foreign place."

When you pause for a moment, Namjoon's small and steady voice pipes up with a single inquiry. "I thought you left willingly?"

"I did," you state. "I've wanted to move to South Korea for a long, long time. Since I can remember. But I never thought I'd lose everything before then." Tears prick your eyes, and you lift your sleeve to wipe your nose. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Namjoon gestures towards the small sofa, and you follow his lead. You perch on a single cushion, legs folded underneath you. He takes the adjacent one, far enough to for personal space but still close enough to rest a hand on your knee. This time, you don't push him away as you catch your breath. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, I do, but maybe not now." You take another breath in and focus your thoughts. "I didn't mean to start all that with the intention of being the victim and making you feel bad for me. I...I told you that because I wanted you to know that there are reasons why I push people away. I've been on a journey to heal that trauma all year, but it doesn't happen overnight. But even with that, I never should have just left like that. I never should have ignored your calls and texts. I shouldn't have made you feel like you were the bad guy, or that any of this was your fault, or that you did anything wrong. You were—"

You struggle to find a word that fits what you're truly feeling, one that doesn't feel overwhelming, but the only one that comes to mind is... "You are perfect, Joonie. You're sweet and kind. You treat me like a normal person that's worth something, and I think part of me was scared of that. Especially around the holidays, I feel very fragile, and I run from things I think might hurt me."

"I would never, ever hurt you." Namjoon flashes a soft and empathetic smile. "Can I ask why you got spooked so suddenly? You looked off when I picked you up, and I know you said it was nothing, but..."

You pull your phone from your pocket and play the message for him, the one from your mother. And when he remains silent, you play the second from your father. While he listens, you watch him. The hand on your knee turns to a fist, and his jaw clenches. Part of you is relieved that someone else is reacting negatively to the messages, yet another signal to you that your choice is validated.

"I got the first that morning, but the second right before I left," you murmur. "I didn't respond, and I've blocked the numbers, but I've felt unstable since then. That's why I shut down, and why I left."

He nods, then turns off the phone. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. That's emotional abuse and manipulation. No one should have to go through that."

"I know, but I was wrong. I'm sorry for doing that and for hurting you. It was wrong, and I don't deserve you coming back again and again...even if you concocted this up with Lisa."

At your light-hearted comment, he chuckles and bites the inside of his cheek. The fist on your knee loosens back, his fingers tapping gently against your skin. "She told you, did she?"

"Yep," you chirp. "I'll thank her later."

After a moment, Namjoon's eyes flicker back up to yours. For a moment, he almost looks worried. "Are you mad?"

"Meh." For a moment, you're able to hold your composure long enough for your companion's eyes to widen in horror. "I'm just kidding," you relent, and Namjoon looks visibly relieved. "How could I be mad? Look at all this!" You gesture to the magical space around you. "It looks like a wonderland in here."

A crimson hue fills his face, and he's all of a sudden very shy about the accomplishment. "I wanted you to feel like you had a Christmas, even if it was just for one night."

Leaning your head against the back cushion of the sofa, you stare at him with a bittersweet smile on your face. "Are you mad at me?"

He shakes his head, expression more adamant about that than anything he's said so far. "Not a bit. I was worried, yes, and maybe a little disappointed. I think most of that was tied to the fact that I thought we were on the up-and-up. I saw you slowly opening up and having a good time."

"Gahhh," you groan, eyes fluttering shut with frustration at your past self. "I really fucked it up, didn't I?"

"Not really." His hand slips up your knee, and he weaves his fingers through yours. The squeeze he gives and the gaze he locks gives emphasis to his next words. "I know I don't know everything about you, just like you don't know everything about me, but I'd be lying if I said you aren't the most joyful thing I've experienced in a while. Being around you makes me happy, and the fact that this has you so down makes me want to be there for you — if you want me to. I don't blame you for anything you've done, so you have nothing to be sorry for. Honestly, after hearing those messages and some of what you've been dealing with this year, I know I would've reacted the same way. But, if it helps your peace of mind, then I forgive it all."

"Thank you," you whisper, trying to blink away the tears pricking your eyes.

Namjoon's gaze softens, and he tugs on your hand. "C'mere." You scoot closer, and he pulls you the rest of the way onto his lap and into his arms. Your legs dangle off the side of his thighs, and your head nestles in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. One hand holds tightly to yours while the other circles your waist, dipping under your sweater to rub soothing circles on your skin. Your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him even closer than before.

"Sometimes terrible, inexplicable things happen to us and it takes us months — even years — to process." Namjoon's timbre is quiet and deep, rumbling against your ear as he speaks. "Everyone goes through that, even me. But it's so much harder to face it alone. Sometimes it takes a lonely, awful Christmas to see just how out of sorts you are. I don't know everything, but if you'll have me, I'd like to stick around to find out."

"You'd still be willing to get to know me more, even after seeing me at my worst?"

"Jagi, if this is your worst, then I would hate to introduce you to sixteen-year-old Kim Namjoon. That boy was a train-wreck."

Letting a watery smile show as laughter escapes your lungs, you reach upward and wrap your arms around Namjoon's neck. He pulls you closer, hands splayed on your back and waist. A sense of relief, and something like home, floods through you. Burying your face in his neck, you allow yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. Ever patient, your companion just holds you close as you come back around.

"Enough with the heavy," he breaks the silence, pulling back and wiping his thumb across your cheeks. Nodding towards the front of the space, where your television is, you follow his line of sight. "I brought your movie and the player. If you're okay with me staying over, do you wanna watch it?"

Leaning forward, you bring your face closer to his, murmuring, "I'd love that."

Namjoon closes the final distance. Both your eyes and his flutter shut as your lips meet in the middle. You tug on the collar of his sweater, encouraging him closer as his arms tighten around your waist. In a burst of bravery, you run your hand through his platinum hair and nip at his bottom lip. He inhales abruptly, and you giggle in response.

"You're gonna be the death of me, [Y/n] [Y/l/n]," he laughs, eventually pulling back to catch his breath.

You grin mischievously at him, biting your lower lip. "Still sure you wanna stay?"

"Definitely. Oh! And I placed an order for takeout, which should be here any minute."

You burst into laughter, resting your forehead against his shoulder as joy fills your body. "You really put all your chips on me coming to my senses, didn't you?" When he shrugs, you add, "What if I had said no?"

"Then I would've been eating for two alone in my apartment," he groans.

You shake your head at his antics and playfully poke the dimple in his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Joonie.”

His smile deepens at your words and gesture. “Merry Christmas, [Y/n].”

Just as he promised, food arrives at the front of your apartment a few minutes later. Namjoon hops up and volunteers to get it from the entrance, and you pop the movie into the player. Silencing the music on his phone, you select the "Play" option from the menu, and the credits begin to play over Anthony Hopkins' narration as your companion returns.

He serves up the food and delivers it to you on the sofa. With a rumbling stomach, you take it gratefully. Just as the singing begins, Namjoon settles into the seat beside you, hooking your leg over his so you maintain closeness as you devour the takeout. Neither of you have seen it in so long, and thus both of you are laughing whole-heartedly at every joke and hilarious mannerism.

After the meal is finished and the dishes are on the makeshift box side-table, you find yourself slowly slipping closer to your companion. Namjoon gladly pulls you closer, and by the middle of the movie, you're back in his lap. With the blanket wrapped around you both, his chin on your head, his arms around you with one hand tracing absent-minded patterns on the skin above your pants, you know you've never been more at home in Seoul than you are right now.

"I'm sorry I ruined your grand plans for Day 3," you murmur after a while.

Namjoon's hand on your waist halts, then changes to a reassuring, tapping pattern. "Be glad you did; this is way better than anything I had planned."

"While I have to agree, what did you have planned?"

You can hear his smile in his voice. "Well, honestly I hadn't decided between Lotte World or Seoullo 7017. You said you hadn't been to either of those, and at Christmas, they're magical. All the lights, the music, it's an absolute winter wonderland."

"Well, if I get to see you skate live, then we can definitely go to those after the solar New Year. Maybe...Maybe even call it a date?"

Namjoon presses a kiss to your forehead, one that makes you grin to yourself and sigh peacefully. His reply is loud and clear, a promise reverberating through his chest. "I think that sounds perfect."

As the movie continues, you relax and think back on everything that's happened this year. All your concerns and worries you had a few weeks prior, at the beginning of December, they all seem so far away now. Even those anxieties brought up recently feel as if they're resolved. he sense is comparable to that of a chapter ending and a new one is being written. And this time, you're the one holding the pen.

At the resolution of the film, you realize that what Namjoon set out to do over a series of adventures truly did come to fruition. Be it luck or fate or whatever you want to call it, he really has given you that spark of hope in the Christmas season. It's something you thought you'd lost, or perhaps you'd left it in America along with many other things. He's brought it back to life, and so much more along with it.

All that magic, all that wonder, all that love and hope and joy — Namjoon is right. It hasn't disappeared from the world, and you haven't outgrown the things you used to feel during the holiday season. It's all still right here, in front of you and around you, waiting to be taken with grateful hands and heart. Maybe it's not in the form it used to be, nor is it in the place it used to be, but neither are you. Both you and your home have changed this year. But despite it all, you are still here, still striving to love yourself and your new life, still trying to let the magic find you.

And this year, because of a wonderful person named Kim Namjoon, you had all the love and magic you could ever need.

#bangtan-madi writes #christmas collab #bts christmas collab #bts christmas fic #christmas oneshot #christmas fic #holiday fic #holiday oneshot #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon #kim namjoon #rm #rm x reader #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #strangers to lovers #bts x reader #kim namjoon oneshot #namjoon oneshot #namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #rm fic #rm oneshot #kpop #figure skater au #figure skater!namjoon #cafe au #barista!mc

[writeforcarat]

Home [Part 1]

—Cat Shelter Volunteer!Wonwoo × Reader

—Fluff

A light drizzle specked the hot grey pavement before turning into a summer downpour.

It was almost noon on a Monday and you hit the brakes of your bicycle near a subway exit, where a sea of commuters had started emerging, pulling out their umbrellas, cursing at how the rain had just put a damper on their already busy day.

You, too, had a packed schedule ahead. It was your second week working as a part-time English teacher at an academy. And while tutorial classes were held in the afternoon, instructors were expected to arrive before lunchtime—an unwritten rule you had managed to comply with up until now.  

In a hurry, you slipped into a raincoat (thank goodness, you packed one), and checked the time. You had about 20 minutes to get to the school, which wasn’t that bad. If you could just speed up a bit, you’d make it on time.

You hadn’t gone that far yet when you heard it—an excruciating yowl that only got louder as you approached the end of the street. Curious and a bit alarmed, you came to a stop, got off your bike, and brought your ears closer towards a patch of bushes, where the sound seemed to be coming from.

Another cry pierced through the humid air, and you instinctively took a step back.

Taking a peek through the bushes, you found a spotted white and grey cat—drenched, soiled, and cold—your gaze meeting its feline eyes that were veiled with agony. The poor creature tried to stand up, only to fall back down on the wet ground. That was when you noticed that it had a limp and wounded leg.

You felt a pang in your heart. You had always had a soft spot for animals, especially cats, and this was a situation you couldn’t simply ignore. A cat needs help. Your help… but you were also running late. Sighing in resignation, you shrugged off the thoughts about work (maybe, they’d understand) and scooped the cat into your arms.

“You will be fine,” you whispered to it. “I’m here.”

Somewhat comforted, the cat purred in response, and you repeated reassuringly, “I’m here.”

Shifting its weight to your left arm, you tugged your bike with your free hand and walked towards the shed of a bus stop nearby. Thankfully, the sky was starting to clear up again and the rain was nothing more than a light shower. You sat down on the cold steel seat so you could let the cat rest on your lap.

Think. You said to yourself before resolving to text your supervisor to inform her about your “emergency.” You didn’t go far into detail, really. That you would explain only if worse comes to worst later. You then started searching for cat shelters nearby. Multiple results returned, with the closest one about eleven blocks away.

Chimes pleasantly rang, as you opened the door of Happy Cat Shelter and Veterinary Clinic. The cold air from the AC sent a chill that crawled on your skin, which the cat probably felt, too, since it snuggled closer to your chest.

“H-hello?” You called out, a tremble caught in your throat.

“Welcome to Happy Cat!” You heard someone respond from the inside; his voice deep yet friendly. A crashing sound reverberated through the walls of the office. “Be there in a sec!”

The shelter was not exactly big, but it wasn’t small either. From where you were standing at the receiving area, you could see cats crawling and prancing about in their playroom, and to your right, you eyed the door of the clinic with a sign that said the doctor was out, making worry flood through you. The next closest shelter with a vet was much farther away, and you couldn’t afford to take another side trip.

You glanced down at the cat. It was so exhausted; its sleepy eyes had fluttered shut.

A door swung open, and you looked up with a start. A lanky bespectacled boy clad in a black shirt came walking towards you, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologised before letting out a gasp, as you and the cat became clearer to his sight. “Oh my God.”

You realised that you were still dripping wet, a puddle surrounding your feet, locks of your wet hair matted on the sides of your face. Of course, your makeup was messed up, too. Shit. You were not a pretty sight, nor was the injured cat in your arms. You lowered your head in embarrassment.

“Please, don’t move. You might slip,” the boy said concernedly before you could even utter a word, his hand gesturing for you to stay put. “I’ll go get towels.”

Wonwoo wasn’t having an easy Monday. He wasn’t supposed to be working, but two of his co-volunteers called in sick, and the shelter’s manager, who was on vacation, begged him to cover for their shifts.

Not that he didn’t want to come in for duty, it was just that he had previously asked for a few days’ off, as he had to work on an important project before the summer break began. It didn’t help that the cats were also being extra temperamental and extra energetic, thrashing about the place with much vigour.

So when he saw you standing at the door—drenched and in distress—he knew that his day wasn’t about to get easier. Nevertheless, it had always been in him give help to anybody who needed it—be it a person or a cat. In this case, both.

The bespectacled boy returned shortly with a rag, which he dropped to the floor to absorb the small pool of water around your feet, and, as promised, soft and clean towels. He handed out one to you, and as you accepted it with a “thanks,” he carefully took the cat into his arms with another towel, whispering soothing words to it.

“I saw her on the street,” you said, wiping yourself dry with the towel. “I was actually on my way to work, but I couldn’t leave her. She’s wounded and injured.”

“I can see that,” he said, intently examining the cat in his arms. “Thank you for bringing her here,” he glanced up at you.

Now that he was standing closer, you finally had a better view of his face, and, God, he’s handsome. With his dark fringes falling just below his eyebrows, you instantly noticed his stunning eyes that showed both sincerity and softness as he looked at you.

You’d be lying if you said that the sight of him carrying the poor cat you’d just rescued didn’t make your heart melt a little.  

A bit flustered, you turned towards the direction of the clinic and said, “I’m not sure to what extent you can help, but, please, keep her safe until the vet arrives.”

“Of course,” he said almost instantly. “The vet won’t be here until after lunch, but I will give him a call, since this kitty needs to be treated.”

“Thanks,”

An awkward pause engulfed the room, and you realised that you hadn’t even introduced yourselves to each other yet.

“I’m Y/N,” you said just about the same time he told you that his name was Wonwoo. Both of you let out a sheepish laugh.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, diffusing the tension. “Let me bring her inside first. I’ll be right back,”

“Erm, I should get going,” you said matter-of-factly, motioning towards the door.

“Hang on,” Wonwoo snapped, “I know you’re in a hurry, but we have protocols here. There’s some paperwork to be dealt with before we officially take in any cat.”

“Right,” you bit your lower lip, starting to worry more about work at that point. “I understand, but I am running really late right now.”

Having thought of a quick solution, Wonwoo shifted the cat’s weight to one arm, then swiped a clipboard and a sheet of paper from the reception desk with his other hand and suggested, “Perhaps, you could, at least, give us your contact details and bring this drop-off form to fill out and submit later. We don’t usually do this, but I’ll try to explain the situation to my boss. I’ll call or text you if anything turns up. Would that be alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nodded, taking the clipboard and form, grateful that he was being considerate enough. You quickly wrote down your name, mobile number, and email address on the contact list on the clipboard, and handed it back to Wonwoo. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, and reminded you to come back with the drop-off form filled out before you left.

A wave of relief washed over you, seeing how your co-workers didn’t seem to notice your absence earlier when you arrived at the academy about 30 minutes later. They said hello like they usually did, as you walked into the teachers’ office; some were even offering you lunch food. Your supervisor was also nice enough to ask if you were okay and give you a clean shirt to change into.

Your classes ran smoothly that afternoon. The gradeschoolers enjoyed the vocabulary exercises you had prepared for them. They surprisingly expressed much excitement about their pop quiz, too, when you said that top scorers will get a choco pie each.

As you were packing your things, looking forward to calling it a day, your phone buzzed, an SMS popping up on the screen. Although it came from an unknown number, you already knew who it was from. You tapped on the notification to read the entire message.

“Hi, Y/N! Kitty’s okay now. No need to worry anymore. Just don’t forget to sign the form and bring it to the shelter. You can drop by tomorrow. We’ve also got some good news.  -Wonwoo”

The message tugged the corners of your lips upwards into a smile. For some reason, receiving that text made you feel so much better after a long day.

“Hey, look at that beautiful smile,” your co-instructor quipped, as she walked by.

You looked up from your phone, still beaming. “What?”

“Did your boyfriend text you? I haven’t seen you smile like that before.”

Your eyes widened and your lips parted, as though to say something, but not a word came out. Your co-instructor chuckled at your expression. “You’re adorable. See you tomorrow!”

“See you,” you said, happily thinking about what tomorrow will actually bring. [PART 2]

Thanks for reading until here! I didn’t actually intend for this story to get this long, but I guess I got too carried away with writing it. Anyhow, if you enjoyed this scenario, hit like or reblog and please do look forward to the continuation of the story.

My Q&A is also open to requests. Don’t hesitate to drop some prompts or suggestions, and I’ll see what I can do!

#seventeen #svt #wonwoo #kpop #jeon wonwoo #seventeen fic #seventeen au #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fic #svt au #svt imagine #svt reaction #svt reactions #svt scenario #svt scenarios #svt fluff #wonwoofic #wonwoo au #wonwoo reaction #wonwooreactions #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo scenarios

[brynsconsumption]

01.28.21 - Day 7

Almost the weekend y’all! As I’ve previously stated, having Fridays off is my saving grace. I woke up this fine Thursday at 7am and once again, sat on my phone for about 10 minutes. I am absolutely not a morning person but I am trying to work on getting up better without as much screentime. I got up, made my bed, and uncovered Juno. I made my way to my bathroom where I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and took my vitamins. Then i sat down at my desk and did my makeup while listening to An Innocent Man by Billy Joel on Spotify. Classic. Next I picked out a pretty simple outfit but I really liked it as it combined two of my favorite articles. My Kevin Abstract American Boyfriend limited edition hoodie and my Golf Wang colorblock primary Chuck 70′s. 

Tride ‘n true

Bops only 😤

I made sure my backpack had everything I need, made a chai latte to go, and left to meet Adam and walk to the bus stop. We walk to the Sanford stop and take the 122 to Stadium Village, then take the 121 to St. Paul campus. We always get there a bit early to get situated and chat with Laura. Today’s Color and Form class was super fun as we got to coat our screens in photo emulsion and exposed our first positives. Then, we had to rinse them off and carefully dry them to prepare for screen printing on Tuesday!

Lil studio selfie w LarLarBinks

My exposed & washed screen!

After class, I went with Laura to Kohls in Woodbury so she could pick up a new vacuum cleaner for her cat, Panini. Once we secured the vacuum, we discovered a Panera just 2 miles or so away. Our greatest weakness. We made online orders for rapid pickup. I ordered two chocolate chip bagels, sliced and toasted. My actual favorite meal for many years running. After devouring my bagels, Laura graciously took me back to my apartment. I unpacked my stuff, did the dishes, and watered my beautiful plants.

I got myself a bowl of cottage cheese and watched an episode of Regular Show before walking to Gray’s for coffee and homework time with Margot! I started off this post (I am ad at remembering what all I do) and did some readings as well. I ordered a large chai latte for around $5. I really like chai if you couldn’t tell. I’m very ready for the weekend. 

Margot & I at our favorite spot!

After working on homework with Margot for awhile, we split ways and I came back to my apt to get ready for Design and Discontents and water my plants. I made sure to spray each and every one of the 21 pots of various plants I have here with me. Then I got on zoom for class. I really enjoyed Vivian’s presentation! After class I felt very burnt out and tired, as well as upset for a multitude of reasons. Because of this, I decided to have a cozy night to myself and lay down to unwind and just go on various apps on my phone as well as watch more Regular show. It was nice to just not worry about anything for a bit, since I can sleep in tomorrow and have energy to get more done and enjoy the rest of Lisa’s birthday weekend, plus an exciting surprise for me on Saturday, stay tuned hehe. As I watched Regular Show and went head empty, I ended up kinda binging on snacks, which I am definitely reaping the consequences of but do not regret. I ate raspberries with Juno, as well as cottage cheese (I have a weird cottage cheese addiction rn I don’t wanna talk about it), yogurt, and a swiss roll. Very much full but again, I needed this (or at least that’s what I’ll tell myself.

Juno

Now I just got myself ready for bed, I usually make my posts before doing this so I realized I never really touch on it, but it also doesn’t change too much night-to-night. I usually floss, brush my teeth, wash and moisturize my face, and pick out some pjs. Then I get into bed and either watch a show or ASMR on YouTube to fall asleep, and that is exactly what I intend to do now, as I previously stated, I am burnt out, man.

Some Numbers:

Steps: 3,801

Total Screentime: 9hr 18min

Money Spent: $8

Ingested:

Vitamins

Chai latte x2

2 Panera choco chip bagels

Cottage cheese

Yogurt

Raspberries 

Swiss roll

Zoloft

Media: Billy Joel on Spotify, Tiktok, Twitter, Instagram, Hulu, texting friends

Juno: pellets, water, raspberries, seeds

Overall: I may be not be feeling great now mentally or physically, but I got Panera and that’s all that really matters 🥯 mood: meh

Laura so kindly offered to blow dry my hair! Even tho it wasn’t wet...

#brynsconsumption