#for all I know she’s a nice lady and a wonderful parrot owner. but I was born to be a hater

[l3irdl3rain]

I haven’t looked up parrot YouTube videos for Joe in awhile so we did that today

#my post #Joey #also I’m sorry to be a lil hater on main but I think that Marlene woman is so annoying #idk why. it’s not like I watch her videos or know much abt her but the little bit I have seen I can’t stand her #for all I know she’s a nice lady and a wonderful parrot owner. but I was born to be a hater

[freezegirl]

👀 OH???????

talk that talk // @unbearablyindifferent

keys jangle as kie opens the front door with both hands while holding her phone between her ear and her shoulder. once she's in the hallway, she does several things in rapid succession: first, she pulls the door shut and locks it. then, she puts her phone on speaker and walks towards the shoe rack so she can take her shoes off.

to do so, kie places it down next to her.

"did you eat?" it's always the first thing farzana asks whenever kie picks up the phone.

"i did, yes," kie responds, "felt like eating out instead of cooking today so i went to sarah's spot earlier. found myself a nice little booth in the back."

"and nobody bothered you?"

"nobody bothered me," kie parrots back, "and i bothered nobody."

which is another way of saying no one touched her.

she slides her feet into her fuzzy slippers and makes the trek towards the living room. it's quiet. much too quiet. much too dark and much too cold. so she's quick to at least bathe the living room in light and turn on the heater.

"tell me about the owner," farzana prompts while kie wraps a blanket around her shoulders. she doesn't really feel the cold but there is always that little echo of frost settling within her bones whenever she's alone anyway.

maybe it's a physical manifestation of her loneliness.

or maybe the house is just that cold.

either or.

"well," kie says, "she's really nice. very warm and sincere yet super intense and high energy in a way that i personally don't know what to do with most of the time, but it comes from a genuine place."

come to think of it: sarah's like an exclamation point if an exclamation point was human.

"maybe it's the age difference," kie muses as she yawns. "i'm currently making my way through college and she's in her thirties. has the house, the partner, the kids and the restaurant."

(maybe it's the fact that she expends so much energy day after day trying to keep herself from turning all the places she frequents into a winter wonderland.)

briefly, she allows her mind to wander. allows herself to wonder what it would be like. then she reins it back in, scolds herself fiercely because those are dangerous thoughts for a dangerous person, like her parents have said so many times before.

suddenly, she hears a crash and she winces at the sound of hindi swears. she waits until the rapid-fire urdu in the background fades too. waits until farzana comes back to the phone.

then, the good doctor's voice reaches kie's ears again: "sorry about that, jawaharel just dropped a plate that used to belong to my mother. he asks if your parents have already called and what your plans are for tomorrow."

"he's a precog," kie chuckles, "i thought he saw all of that already."

"you know that's not how his powers work, beti," farzana says fondly.

"my parents haven't called yet. they haven't called in a while. dad's shooting this big, big action sequence. that's what he said last time we spoke. and mom's still in greece."

farzana mutters something unkind underneath her breath.

"it's okay," kie says and it's not second nature but a first at this point. "they're just... really busy, i understand."

before farzana can start another argument, kie adds: "i'm going to the ice rink tomorrow after school. gonna practice my sit spins. i've been talking to my coach about taking the gold free skate test this year but i'm not sure - maybe i should wait one more year."

they talk about that for a while - about spins and jumps and the music, about the clothes and the eventual routine, until farzana bids kie a good night because she's got an early day tomorrow and hands the phone over to her husband.

by now, kie looks more like a blanket burrito than a person.

"so," jawaharel hums, "how good is that white lady's food?"

"good enough for me to eat," she replies, "i wouldn't be going there if it wasn't. and if it's good enough for me, it's definitely good enough for you and farzana."

"it surprises me that you didn't go to the paper lantern today, snowflake."

"it surprises me that it surprises you that i didn't go to the paper lantern today."

"it surprises me that it surprises you that it surprises me---" jawaharel starts but farzana cuts in with a shout: "---enough!"

kie laughs loudly and then tries her hardest to smother the sounds of her giggles behind the palm of her hand. if only for farzana's sake.

"yes," jawaharel decides right there and then, "my beloved is quite right. enough is enough. i should let you get some rest too, snowflake."

kie nods, subdued, even though he can't see her right now. "yes, of course." this is always the worst part of the night. the ever present reminder that, at the end of the day, she's still alone. as always. "good night, jawaharel."

"good night, snowflake. we will call you tomorrow."

he disconnects the call and kie tries her hardest not to cry.

#unbearablyindifferent #freeze girl / answered. #freeze girl / supernatural.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

could we mayhaps see chris as he just starts to get comfortable. tentatively interacting with people in the house for the first time, antoni being a nice roommate and helping him feel comfortable. jake trying to hold in his excitement that chris is properly coming out of his shell and interracting🥺👉🏻👈🏻

CW: Referenced drugging, neurodivergent character trying to “pass”, VERY vague referenced to past noncon, conditioned internal dehumanization/conditioned behaviors 

Takes place directly after Chris Gets a Name

Tagging Chris’s crew:  @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump, @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout

“Hey, Chris, you’re up.”

Oh, he forgot that his name is different now, that he chose one for himself. It felt like part of the fever, he hadn’t been sure if he actually chose a new name or if he just made that up.

“Chris,” He repeats, knowing he sounds like a parrot, and his eyes trail over to the curtains over the kitchen windows, gingham curtains, old-fashioned and homey like a family on TV that he watches with Sir some evenings, curled up with him, warm beneath Sir’s blankets and feeling perfectly, truly cared for when the games are over and he’s won or he’s lost and he takes the pill and is allowed just to be quiet and still and good and not scared-

“My name... is Chris, now.”

“Yeah, and it’s a good name. Everyone, this is Chris.”

He has met all these people at the table, but they look at him as though they’ve never seen him before, and he cringes back and away from their murmured greetings. 

The tall blond man, Jake - who isn’t an owner, Chris understands that now, and he’s wearing a t-shirt plaid sleep pants - is sitting at the table and the boy’s eyes go immediately to the plates of biscuits with white gravy layered over the top, the smell of frying sausage heavy in the air in the kitchen, although an open window lets in a soft breeze and the scent of lilacs from a bush at the house next door.

The boy feels his stomach flip, uncomfortably unsettled. Miss Nancy smells like lilacs and Sir likes biscuits and gravy, has them every morning once per week, the boy thinks of days in the food Sir eats. Biscuits Day, Omelette Day, Cheese Danish Day. 

Is it Biscuit Day here? 

The others are at the table, too - not the older woman with brown hair, the boy could hear her talking to someone up in the attic when he first left the room. 

He felt like standing for the first time in days, since he’d gotten so sick and hidden in the storage room. His legs wobbled, weak and weary, underneath him as he made his way downstairs but now, leaning against the doorframe and wrapped in a big fluffy blanket that smells like some man’s cologne but not Sir’s, he feels better.

“D’you want to sit?” Jake gestures at the table. There is one chair empty, the lady’s chair, but the other seats are taken by the other ones like him.

Not like him at all.

There’s one girl with a ponytail, wearing a big sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking at him with nervous wide eyes that seem a little too big for her face. The other girl has short dark hair in a bob and barely looks at him at all. There’s a boy, too, older than he is (they’re all older than you are) who has dark hair mussed-up and shadowed, faintly feline eyes that turn up at the corners just a little, a hint of a smile on his face. He looks at the boy directly, and gives a little wave with his free hand.

The boy lifts his arm just enough to give a wave back, then drops it again, curling himself even more tightly up in the blanket. 

“Do I... want to... sit?” He paces his words, careful and calm, just like training. Try to figure out the expectations and deliver on them. “Should I...” He hesitates, swallowing hard. “In your... lap, Sir?”

The dark-haired girl chokes on her food and jerks forward, coughing into one hand, while Ponytail pats her on the back, whispers something into her ear. Both of them look back up at him, briefly, and Chris can’t tell if they hate him or pity him but their eyes are shuttered closed and he cringes away, ready to run back upstairs to the bedroom and the stuffed puppy he’s been petting while he stares out the window and wonders if he’ll be allowed outside, sometimes, here.

Jake clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh... no, man. No, you don’t... no. We’re not like that.”

“You will never be expected to do that here,” The other Box Boy says, his eyes on Chris’s, warm and inviting. “Jake is offering for you to sit in the chair.” His voice is low and deep, his words soft and slow and gentle. 

They sink into Chris’s mind like the feeling of petting a rabbit’s ears, and he takes one step forward and then another. 

“In the... chair?” He looks around at them all, trying to understand. “But, but, but but but I’m not allowed-” He flinches-

silence is better than stammering, darlin’

-but when he looks back up no one looks angry, just... curious, still. Maybe nervous. Are they nervous, too? Chris is nervous, he doesn’t know what any of this means or who to be, here, how to be anything but what he’s always been, the only thing he remembers how to be.

It’s been days since he had a pill and his mind feels normal again, running on all his tracks, and he notices that the sausage gravy looks heavily peppered at the same time he thinks that Jake has lots of muscles and the girls are very pretty but one has a scar over her lip and eyebrow and the other one’s hands are shaking and are they shaking because of him?

“You are allowed to sit wherever you please,” The other Box Boy says, gently. “Whenever you want to sit there. There is no allowed, here.”

Chris’s eyes skip from him to the girls, who give him small soothing smiles, and then to Jake, who has pushed the chair out a little in an obvious invitation. Jake feels safe, he feels like maybe a good kind of handler, like he will be the one to teach Chris the things he needs to know and won’t even have to hurt him to do it. 

“I will... I will sit in the, the chair,” Chris says slowly, and moves into the room in a shuffle-step with the blanket still pulled tightly around himself. It’s a light blue downy fluff blanket that puffs out like the puffy vest Sir likes to wear on cold days - Southern affectation, I admit you can take the man out of the South but you’ll never get the South out of the man whispers his soft slick voice in the back of Chris’s mind - and he settles into the chair despite the bone-deep urge to slip to his knees, because he doesn’t get to use a chair unless it’s Sir’s.

“Chris,” Jake says, leaning over to squeeze his shoulder, and Chris closes his eyes at the brief warm touch that feels so good, so right. “You know I’m Jake. You’ve heard the other’s names but i’m guessing you probably forgot... this is Krista-” 

Ponytail smiles at him, a little more warmly this time. Her eyes roam over his face and whatever she sees makes her smile even warmer. Chris had expected her to go cold. The other ones never like the ones like him. He doesn’t know that he’s ever met one before but it doesn’t matter, they all know that, they always tell you don’t even bother, they’ll all hate you in the end.

But Krista only smiles at him and says softly, “Hi, Chris.”

She’s so pretty, with the ponytail that swings over her neck and her wide, wide eyes. He wants almost to kiss her, but he doesn’t want to kiss her at all.

What you want is no longer relevant. What are your options now?

Be g-good, or... or be in trouble.

He can kiss her, if he needs to. He can be good.

“H-hello,” He whispers back. Jake gets up and Chris flinches at the sound the chair makes as it scrapes along the kitchen floor. He still feels a little shivery around the edges, like the fever wants to come back and is lying in wait. He’s tired and weak and it feels like one of the nights Sir plays games, except he feels like they don’t do that, here.

He’s in a shelter. This is a safe place for escaped pets, he tries to remind himself of what he was told when they brought him inside. They call him a rescue, now, not a pet.

“And I’m Leila,” The girl with short dark hair speaks next, leaning over to catch Chris’s eye. Her smile is more impish than Ponytail’s, and he could definitely kiss her, too, but there’s also a distance, there. She seems... cautious of him. Or maybe of everyone. “All our names we pick ourselves. I like yours.”

“I am Antoni,” The other Box Boy says, smiling calmly at him. “Are you hungry, Chris? Jake made us breakfast.”

Chris swallows, hard, looking around at the plates of biscuits and gravy. He can almost feel Sir’s fingers wiping a bit of gravy from the corner of his mouth. “Can, can I please...” He swallows, hard.

Calm. Quiet. Careful. Slow.

“Can I... please just have something else?”

There’s a silence, as the three other ones stare at him, and Jake is quiet by the stove. Then, with nothing but the same genial welcome in his voice, Jake says brightly, “We have Pop Tarts, would you like those? It’s just strawberry, but Leila likes them, so Nat keeps them on hand.”

“What... what’s a Pop... Pop Tart?” Chris asks, hesitantly, then winces. Is this something he should have known? Will he be in trouble?

Leila’s eyes light up. “Oh, God, you don’t remember them. Oh, Jake, give him one of mine!” She looks at Chris, right at him, and he feels the urge to cringe away and lean closer, both at once. “You have to-... you’re going to love Pop Tarts, I promise!”

“‘Love’ might be a strong word...” Antoni murmurs, and Krista shushes him with a little giggle.

Chris discovers himself smiling, a little, as Jake opens a little rectangular foil package and lays what looks like icing-covered sprinkle bread in front of him. He picks it up - it feels hard to the touch, like it’s overcooked, but all of them are watching him, now. 

Sir has never fed him anything like this.

“Go ahead, man,” Jake says brightly. “Take a bite.” He drops back down into his seat, and Chris looks at him - strong and tall and muscular and nice-looking - and he thinks, I could be so good for you.

Chris picks up the thing and puts it in his mouth, takes a bite and chews. His eyes widen at a sudden burst of nearly chemical oversweet flavor, the crunch of icing and chewy bread part and then a kind of sweet filling like jam but it doesn’t taste like any jam Chris has ever had before. He chews and chews, it sticks to his tongue a little, but finally he swallows it down and stares at it, looking at the center full of a deep red something-or-other. It does look like jam...

Then he puts it back in his mouth and takes another bite. 

“See, I told you he’d like Pop Tarts,” Leila says, almost smugly.

“No, you told him he would like Pop Tarts,” Antoni answers, humor lacing his voice. “And so he does.”

“You owe me, Ant.”

“We did not make a bet!”

“I’ll tell Nat to buy some more,” Jake interrupts, and Chris looks over at him and smiles around his mouthful, and Jake smiles back. Chris pulls his feet up to sit cross-legged in the chair, blanket tight around him, and starts to tap on his stomach hidden by the blanket where none of them can see to stop him.

“I, I, I I-I feel better,” He says after he swallows. 

No one says anything about his words.

“I feel so much better.”

He really, really does.

#trauma recovery #trauma recovery whump #conditioned #conditioning #pet whump #memory loss #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #Antoni Sings Lullabies #Leila the Mermaid Girl #Krista Girl #recovering whumpee #oliver branch is gross #all comfort no hurt #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #tw: implied/referenced drugging

[rnufharose]

Chapter 16

Words: 3.8k

Disclaimer: There will be violence, kidnapping, drowning, and attempted murder in this chapter!

︻デ═一 ♥

Haneul landed on the floor and listening to the door close behind her, the lock turning. She stood abruptly and jiggled the doorknob, pounding her fists against it, "Let me out!" She yelled, but no one responded. She exhaled sharply and stepped back, running her fingers through her hair and looking around. "Aish!" she hissed.

"Cussing isn't going to help you, sweetheart," a voice came from the other side of the room, and Haneul faced its owner, where a tall man with droopy eyes and slicked hair sat against the wall. He had a cold expression but it wasn't like Sehun's. "What?" He asked. "You're not scared of me? Big hitman with a scary face?"

She furrowed her brows and shook her head slowly, "No, I'm not. I've seen scarier."

The man huffed, getting to his feet and eyeing her carefully, "Well,  it looks like you're the second girl who isn't scared of me."

"I'm guessing you're Jooheon," Haneul spoke, remembering his name during her talk with Hyungwon and Sehun back on the ferry. "MONSTA X's hitman..."

"You guessed correctly," he walked toward her, that cold look now replaced with a gentle smile. "And who might you be, little lady? Why were you thrown in here? You don't look like you're a part of our line of work."

"You're right, I'm not," she chuckled helplessly. "I'm Haneul. By blood, I'm related to the Cho Clan, but I'm here with Sehun, EXO's hitman. That lady, Eun-jae, threw me in here, and I need to get out of here before she hurts someone."

Jooheon shrugged, making a sound, "She hurts everyone."

"But this is a little girl we're talking about," Haneul specified, and then the smile on his face was no longer there, his expression becoming stern once again.

"Little girl?" MONSTA X's hitman parroted. "Did she happen to have three cats? And she lives with her father?"

The brunette nodded, confirming that was the same girl she met earlier, "Yes. Her name is Jiyoung. Do you know her?"

"I do," Jooheon nodded, his hands closing into fists as he looked down, anger in his eyes. "That girl is like a little sister to me. Her father is always welcoming me into their home. If anyone harms a single hair on her head, I..." he trailed off, doing his best to contain the angry outburst that was building up. "She was the first person who wasn't afraid of me... my brothers don't know that I visit her and her father when I'm not working. She's always alone when her father heads off to work and I stay with her to make sure she is protected."

"What does Eunjae want from your Clan?" Haneul inquired, and he took a seat at the edge of the bed, folding his hands, brows furrowed.

"She's wanted our territory in Jeju for a long time. All of her imports are illegal drugs that are shipped to the underground nightclubs all over Seoul," Jooheon said. "But... I'd have to guess that since you're here, she took the opportunity to use you and ambush us to get what she wants. She may also be using Jiyoung to make you join her. If the underworld found out the last survivor of the Cho Syndicate is working alongside her, they will fear her and you."

"I want no part of this," Haneul assured him with a shake of her head. "I didn't even know about who I was related to until recently. I've just been a singer at a cabaret who lived with her grandmother. The EXO Clan were my father's friends and he tasked them to protect me and find the person who killed Halmeoni."

"So you're mixed up in all this too," he nodded slowly before turning his gaze at her once more, giving her an expression of determination. "Then we're getting out of here. I won't let that bitch harm Jiyoung. Will you help me?"

Haneul replied with a nod as well, "I will. Just tell me what to do and I'll follow your lead."

︻デ═一 ♥

Sehun was thrown into one of the other bedrooms, the door closing behind him followed by the click of a lock. When he lifted himself off the floor, he was greeted with a pained Hyungwon, who held his head after taking the trauma, "You okay?!" He asked and the slightly older male groaned, smiling through the dizziness.

"I'll live," he said.

"Sehun," another voice spoke, and the raven-haired male looked up, coming face to face with the patriarch of the MONSTA X Syndicate. He was tall with broad shoulders and a well-built frame. His suit jacket was discarded, revealing the wrinkled button-down, tie, and slacks he was wearing, his short dark hair slicked in small spikes.

"Shownu hyung," the raven-haired hitman stood up, greeting him with a bow. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm alright," he gave him a nod. "But Jooheon and Wonho were separated from us. Minhyuk, Kihyun, and Changhyuk escaped and are asking for help from GOT7."

"We have to get out of here now," Sehun spoke. "Eunjae has my friend and I know she's in danger."

"Your friend?" Shownu questioned.

"Cho Haneul," the younger male answered. "The survivor of the Cho Syndicate. Junmyeon gave me orders to protect her at all costs."

"I see," Shownu nodded slowly, making his way toward the door, grabbing the knob and jiggling it did a moment. "Eunjae is here for our territory. She needs a place for her drug imports to come without facing the law. Jeju Island is the best place for that. There aren't many regulations for what comes to port here."

"So it isn't because of Haneul then?" Sehun asked.

"Well, Cho Haneul is a bonus for her," Shownu continued. "Take the heiress of the Cho Clan and use her name to instill fear into others, and the other Syndicates will forfeit their territories to her. She won't kill her, but those who fear the Cho name will."

"The FT Syndicate sent Eunjae here," Hyungwon said to the older male. "They'll, no doubt, use this as a way to lure Eunjae and the girl to them and kill them both."

"I won't let them kill Neullie," Sehun exclaimed, and the two males faced him, taking in his cold expression. "If they do, they'll have to deal with me."

Shownu's eyes widened slightly, nodding and crossing the room again, leaving Sehun in his angered state while Hyungwon tried to think of a way out of their current predicament.

"He was definitely jealous of those cats," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Shownu asked, and the younger male gave him a coy smile.

He answered, "Animida."

︻デ═一 ♥

Jiyoung was standing outside her house, playing with Hyuk, Kyo, and Toto, listening to them meow and rub against her, purring when she scratched behind their ears, releasing a soft giggle. "You boys are so sweet," she whispered, a shadow casting over her, prompting her to face the person who stood over her from behind.

"Hello, Jiyoung," Eunjae smiled at the girl sweetly.

She stood up slowly, the cats no longer meowing but taking alert stances, their big eyes trained on the unknown woman, "Yes...? May I help you, Ahjumma?"

"Ahjumma?" The woman parroted, irritation behind her kind gaze, bending down to look closer at Jiyoung. "Do I look like an ahjumma? I'm very young. Why don't you call me Unnie?"

"U-Uh," Jiyoung stammered for a moment, looking down and taking a step back. She didn't feel comfortable around this woman. She wasn't like Haneul, who was kind and wasn't annoyed by her presence. Jiyoung could somehow sense the woman's annoyance.

Eunjae looked behind the girl's small shoulder, eyeing the cats she was playing with earlier, "What cute cats you have there. Think we can play with them?"

"O-Oh, actually, they—" she was interrupted by a yowl. Toto's fur was on edge and Kyo hissed while Hyuk meowed with hostility. Jiyoung knew her cats loved girls, but they didn't like just any girl. They were excellent judges of character and could tell right away who had good intentions. From their reaction, she now knew Eunjae wasn't a kind person.

"Well that's not nice," The older woman grumbled. "Your cats don't seem to like me. But no matter. Jiyoung, you're a good girl, aren't you? Will you show me around Jeju Island? I'm new here and one of the neighborhood ladies told me you're a wonderful tour guide."

The door opened, and Jiyoung's father stepped out, wearing his work clothes, "Jiyoung-ah, I'm heading out. Wait for Jooheon and he'll stay with you until I—" he came to a halt, his eyes fixated on Eunjae, who exhaled when she came face to face with the middle-aged man. "Who are you...?" He asked.

"Aish, jinjjah," Eun-jae laughed humorlessly. She didn't want the girl's father to get involved but she had no choice. She called for her men to come through the gate, towering over her and the man and his daughter, who staggered with fear. "Ahjussi, think you can cooperate with me? Give me your daughter."

"What?" Jiyoung's father asked in astonishment. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"I'm not going anywhere," the little girl protested.

Eunjae rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue and smirking darkly, "That's too bad because you have no choice."

The henchmen closed in on the two of them and Jiyoung's father stood in front of her, pushing back the taller, bulked men who endeavored to take his daughter away from him, "Jiyoung-ah! Get out of here! Go find Jooheon!"

"But Appa!" The girl protested.

"Go, I said!" He shouted. "The cats and I will take care of these thugs!"

She took a step back, reluctant to leave her father and her little brothers, but they hissed and yowled, pouncing and digging their teeth into the arms of one of Eunjae's men, causing him to cry out in pain while her father punched another across the face.

"You bastards stay away from my daughter!" He yelled when she ran past the gates and down the path toward the estate where Jooheon told her to go if she were ever in trouble.

Jiyoung stumbled for a moment, breathing heavily looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was following her, but a pair of large arms grabbed onto her small frame. "Let go of me!" She screamed.

"Shut up, will you?" Another one of Eun-jae's men had cut her off, as if she had anticipated that the little girl would try to run away.

"Jooheon oppa!" Jiyoung exclaimed desperately. "Help me!"

The man put a cloth over her mouth, and she struggled to leave his grasp, the scent of chloroform overpowering her until she became tired, falling unconscious and no longer moving. She hung limp in his arms, and the man threw her over his shoulder, his entire hand holding onto her waist as he made for Shownu's estate.

︻デ═一 ♥

"Let me out of here!" Haneul shouted toward the other side. She and Jooheon had come up with a plan to annoy Eunjae's men and when they were irritated just enough, they would come barging in, and Jooheon would take the opportunity to knock them out and find the others. "You can't do this to me! Open the door, I said!"

"Aw, shut the hell up, you stupid bitch!" The man on the other growled, kicking the door with his shoe. "Or else!"

"Or else what?!" Haneul challenged him, a smile playing on her face when she looked at Jooheon, who was leaning beside the door, stifling his laughter and giving her a nod. "You'll beat me?! You'll teach me a lesson?! You don't have the guts! Now, get me out of here this instant!"

"Aish!" He cursed, unlocking the door and stomping into the room, towering over her. "I think it's time I shut you up."

He made to pin her down onto the bed with brute force, but Jooheon didn't hesitate. He grabbed onto the man and knocked him out unconscious, and he fell the their feet with a soft moan. Haneul released, fixing her coat and giving the older male a smile, "Thanks for that."

"No problem," he chuckled, kneeling before him and grabbing the man's gun, tucking it inside his jacket. "Now, let's find the others and get to Jiyoung."

Meanwhile, in the other room, Sehun was pacing, his usual patience wearing thin at this point, but then he heard footsteps approaching the front door, prompting Shownu and Hyungwon to raise their heads. Without hesitation, Sehun took out his gun, pointing it toward the door, ready to shoot.

"Um! Sehun!" Haneul had called out from the other side. "It's me! I'm getting you out of here!"

"Neullie?!" He choked, tucking his gun back into his jacket quickly lest he make the mistake in shooting her instead. She unlocked the door, greeting him with a sheepish smile.

"Annyeong," she waved.

"Oh, thank God!" Hyungwon exclaimed standing up. "I thought we were going to be stuck here forever."

Shownu laid eyes on the girl, his expression softening when he took in her sweet face. She looked very innocent, almost otherworldly compared to the darkness he lived in. It was no wonder the EXO Clan had to protect her. "She's... so cute!" He remarked.

"Are you okay?" Sehun approached her, his expression filled with concern as he looked her over. "They didn't hurt you, did they?!"

"I'm okay, truly," she assured him. "I had some help."

Jooheon has come into the room, and leaning against him was another muscular male, his hair was a silvery white and wavy, and he had a wide chest, big biceps and abs that could be seen through his fitted black t-shirt. He had big eyes, full lips, a tall nose, and an angular facial structure. "Hyung," Jooheon looked toward Shownu. "I got Wonho. He's okay."

"Took a beating but I'll live," Wonho chuckled tiredly.

With a single nod, Shownu turned toward Hyungwon, giving him his next set of orders, "Take Wonho to a safe place. We can't risk him getting hurt with his injury."

"Right," he replied, walking toward Jooheon and taking Wonho from him, helping him walk out into the hallway, leaving only the four of them in the room.

"There's something you should know," Ha-Neul said to Sehun and Shownu. "That girl I ran into before—Jiyoung—she is in danger. Eunjae is going to kill her if we don't do something."

"Then we'll get her to safety," The eldest male assured her. "If she plans on killing her, she'll bring her back here."

Suddenly, a phone went off in the room. It belonged to Jooheon, and he pulled it out of his pocket to check who was calling him. Instead, he was greeted with a FaceTime call, and the number belonged to Eunjae. "It's her."

"Turn it on," Sehun urged. "Let's see what she wants."

The younger male nodded, accepting the call, and he was greeted with the woman's devious smirk. "I was wondering when you were going to answer!" She cackled. "Well, now look what happened because the Cho heiress decided not to listen to me!"

"What did you do to Jiyoung?!" He asked, and Eun-jae rolled his eyes.

"You know I haven't speaking yet," she groaned with frustration. "The point is, if little Haneul doesn't make up her mind and work by my side, I'll take your territory. Besides, I really need it anyway since my drug imports are so important to me."

"Dammit, just tell me where she is!" Jooheon yelled, and Eunjae released a heavy sigh.

"Oh alright. Fine, since you're so impatient," she turned the phone, and he realized just where she was. It was the pool behind the house, and seated on its floor was Jiyoung, bound at her ankles and wrists, gagged, and blindfolded, tears trailing down her cheeks as she quivered with fear. "Say hello to Jiyoung... I didn't take you for a pedophile, Jooheon... you must be so desperate to—"

"Fuck, I'm going to end you!" He threatened, and she clicked her tongue.

"I didn't even get to the fun part yet," she sang, and then, slowly but surely, water was filling the pool. "If you don't surrender your territory, and if Cho Haneul doesn't join me, I will make sure the water fills the pool faster, and poor little Jiyoung will be sleeping with the fishes. You better act quickly. Don't keep me waiting."

The video call ended, and Jooheon's grip on his phone was so tight, one would think it was ready to break in half in his hands. To see that little girl in danger angered him beyond belief. It was like watching a younger sibling who was in grave danger, and even though the last thing Jooheon wanted was to give in, he had no choice. "Her safety is more important. We can't let her die. He's father will be devastated."

"You're right," Shownu agreed with him. "I'll give up our territory as well. "Nothing is more important than her life."

"What if you don't have to?" Haneul asked them. "Maybe we can turn the tables on them."

"Like trick them?" Sehun faced her, his expression stern. "No, Neullie. We're not doing that. I can't put you in any more danger."

"But if she gets a hold of the ports for her drugs, then people will get sick," she argued. "Come on. You have this territory, and I don't know what their imports are—"

"—Seafood." Shownu answered.

"Seafood—" the brunette parroted. "And Jeju Island is known for that. We can still save Jiyoung and you can still keep your territory."

"If you have a plan, I'm ready for anything," Jooheon said and Sehun protested gently.

"I'm still very against this."

"I know," Handul smiled up at him. "But for saving a child, this is worth the risk."

︻デ═一 ♥

Eunjae waited for them to arrive, her eyes set on the pool as it was slowly being filled with water, and Jiyoung couldn't do anything but sob silently, praying that someone would come and help her.

The doors opened, and Jooheon stepped by the poolside, ready dive and take the girl away from any danger, but he remembered Haneul's plan.

"I see you've made it. That was quick," Eunjae remarked, looking between the four of them. "So? What do you say? Will you give me your territory and will you join me, Haneul? Imagine what you could accomplish with me as your partner! Your very name instills fear into the hearts of men!"

Haneul looked toward Shownu, who gave her a single nod, and she looked over her shoulder, eyes resting on Sehun, and he was ready for anything. Taking a step forward, the brunette got on her knees and bowed, "I'll join you..."

Shownu was next to get on his knees, bowing before the woman, "And I will forfeit MONSTA X's territory. Just please... let the girl live."

Eunjae looked between them for a moment, wondering if this was some sort of trap, but with a huff, she walked toward the pool and glanced at Jiyoung, who grew increasingly scared now that the water was above her ankles. "Thank you for making the right decision," she said, her smirk beginning to fade. "But I'm afraid I'll have to decline."

This time, she released more water, and it was rising quickly, and the older woman released her henchmen to fight against the others, distracting them from attempting to save the little girl.

Sehun didn't take out his gun yet, deciding to use it as a last resort as he fought with the two males, and Jooheon did the same, glancing toward the pool to try and get Jiyoung out, but they wouldn't let him anywhere near her.

Haneul decided to take it upon herself, running toward the pool, and pushing aside one of Eun-jae's men with whatever strength she had once he blocked her, stumbling and watching her dive into the water, where Jiyoung was now underwater.

"Ah, what a pain in the ass she is," the older woman rolled her eyes, walking toward the edge of the pool, watching her swim to the surface and grab onto the girl.

Haneul emerged from the water, gasping for air, taking off the blindfold and gag, freeing Jiyoung from her restraints and getting her to safety. "Go, hurry!" The brunette said, and she little girl climbed out.

"Jooheon oppa!" She ran toward him after he had finished dealing with his opponent, and the male knelt and opened his arms, hugging her close and listening to her sob, stroking her wet hair.

"It's alright. Everything is going to be okay," he assured her.

Haneul proceeded to leave the pool, shuddering from the cold she felt, but Eunjae stood above her, her expression livid, kneeling before her and pushing the younger woman back into the water, her hand on her head. Under the surface, Ha-Neul struggled to push away her hand, flailing as water had begun to fill her lungs.

"Die already!" Eunjae hissed. "If you won't help me, you're better off dead!"

"Let her go!" Sehun shouted, raising his gun and shooting the woman's shoulder. Eunjae cried out, the bullet lodged in her shoulder, burning off her skin as she bled out, but her pained reaction made her pull away, falling onto the ground and writhing.

Sehun dove into the water, grabbing onto Haneul and safely getting her out of the pool, but she wasn't moving. He laid her down, eyes wide as he brought his hands to her chest, proceeding to do CPR. "Come on, Neullie! Come back to me!" He pleaded, opening her mouth, and pressing his lips against hers without much thought, breathing into her before going back to pumping her chest. "Don't do this to me! You have to come back!" There was desperation in his voice, breathing into her again, pressing his lips to her once again.

If he failed now, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. He promised Suho he would protect her and he didn't want her to end up dying because he pulled her into the fight. Guilt, regret, and anger stirred within his chest, and Sehun tried once more, praying she would regain consciousness, and she did.

Haneul began to cough and sputter, sitting up and breathing for air, and Sehun breathed in relief. "You're okay," he brought her into his arms, hugging her tightly, and she remained still, his body so warm she was no longer shivering.

#romance #eventual fluff #eventual romance #eventual smut #eventual happy ending #exo #sehun #exo sehun #bts #oh sehun

[kian-bera]

Shattered

“It can’t be true.” Alexander muttered to himself. He heard someone talking to him, but he couldn’t focus. His world had been shattered. His heart was in a million pieces, only one thing held it together. Her name was Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was Alexander’s light in the darkness. She had helped him when his heart was broken before; at least last time, the shards had been mended. This time, there was no return, not until her letter arrived. They were to get married once the war ended. If the battle went as planned, would be soon.

Alexander soon passed out from exhaustion. In his state of confusion and hurt, he dreamt he had seen his mother and John. They were warning him to wake up, to run. He distantly heard gunshots and screaming. It aroused him from his sleep. Sitting up, he saw doctors running in and out of the medic tent, supplies and men in hand.

Alexander stumbles from his cot. He was pushed aside by rushing doctors. They soldier in their arms was missing a leg. He glanced around and saw more soldiers dead or bleeding. He dared not look, but he set his eyes on his own leg which was missing. He couldn’t feel pain, nor take the feeling that was stirring in his head. The ginger sat up screaming in bed. Eliza sat up right after, trying to comfort her husband.

“Shhh it’s okay Alexander. You are home. You are safe. Lay back down.” Elizabeth helped her husband lay back on the bed. Alexander was dripping in sweat.

“It was so real.” He muttered. “The war, the field. I couldn’t feel it though. I felt nothing.”

“I know, I know Alexander. You’re safe now though. It will be ok. I promise.” The door to their room creaked open. A little four year old poked his head into the room.

“Mommy? Is daddy okay?” Philip asked slipping into bed with them.

“Daddy will okay. He just had a bad dream, but dreams can’t hurt us.” Elizabeth told Philip.

“Really? If they can’t hurt us, why is daddy always crying or screaming in his sleep?” The boy asked curling into his mother’s arms.

“You see, sometimes people go through really scary things. You can’t always forget them, because they hurt you when they happened.”

“Like when I lost Mister Fuzzy?”

“Yeh, like when you lost Mister Fuzzy.” Elizabeth answered kissing their son on the forehead.

“What did daddy loose?”

“He lost a friend that was very dear to him. You would have liked your Uncle John very much, and he would have loved you.”

“What was Uncle John like?” Philip inquires crawling over time his father. Alex gave a small laugh, wrapping his arms around Philip.

“Your uncle John was a brave man. He had blonde hair, and the brightest blue eyes. He once even gave me a horse named after one of his family’s estates and he told me the horses hair color reminded him of my own.”

“He gave you horse because it looked like you? That’s an odd gift dad.”

“I know, but I cherished that horse very much. Soon after that, your Uncle John was taken away to a bad place. He could’ve died, but he was strong, like you. He got through it, and was eventually allowed to come home if we sent one of the Redcoats home.”

“Why was the redcoat staying with you?”

“He did something mean and had to stay with us.” Alexander told him.

“What did he do?”

“Something very mean. He tried to hurt daddy.” Philip gasped and fell onto the pillow next to Alexander.

“What else daddy! What else!”

“About Uncle John?”

“Sure!”

“Well your Uncle John loved to draw. He often doodles on the sides of his papers when we had to take notes at a meeting. He loved wildlife.”

“What did he like to draw?”

“He liked to draw birds, turtles, and sometimes people. There are some old drawings in this house somewhere where he drew different soldiers that were in camp with us. One of his best ones was probably a sketch he did Major Talmadge.”

“Oohhhh who is Major Talmadge.”

“You probably know him as senator Talmadge.”

“Oh the tall guy with the nice wife who gave me candy at the party a few months ago.”

“Oh so that’s who gave you the candy huh.” Alex said tickling Philip. Philip giggled and nodded his head yes.

“Nice to know. Anyways Senator Talmadge was one of the most important people in our whole army.”

“Why?”

“He stole information from the bad guys.”

“But stealing is bad.” Philip said sitting up. “You and mommy taught me not to steal. How come he got to steal stuff?”

“Because it was his job. Senator Talmadge got paid to steal stuff.”

“I want to get paid to steal stuff. I bet I would be really good at the job.”

“No he did it while we had an argument with the bad guys. After we came to peace, he quit his job and became a senator.”

“That’s sad. A job where you get to steal stuff all the time, how cool is that. I would be the best stealer.”

“Philip Hamilton, you will not do any job that involves stealing. That is a very bad thing.” Elizabeth told her son. “I will disown you if you decide to be a criminal.”

“No you wouldn’t mom. You love me.”

“Yeh mommy you love me.” Alexander teased. Elizabeth grabbed a pillow and whacked him in the face.

“You are a grown man. You should know better Alexander, then again I guess all men still need to be taught how to act like a man.” Elizabeth set the pillow back down rolling her eyes at her son and husband. There was banging of pots and yelling from outside.

“Well my dear Betsy, Happy New Year.” Alexander said smiling.

“Happy New Year my darling Alexander. And my little darling Philip.” Elizabeth held them close. Crying came from down the hall. Alexander gave Elizabeth a small smile, before rolling out of bed. He walked down the hall to find Angelica junior up in her crib crying. Alexander slid over and picked his small daughter up in his arms. He went over to a rocking chair in the corner, quietly singing to his daughter.

“Hush little darling, don’t you cry. Daddy’s going to sing you a lullaby. Hush little darling, don’t say a word, daddy will buy you a hummingbird.” Alex giggled. “Or a parrot. You would like a parrot for your birthday? Yeah, okay. Daddy will get you a parrot for your next birthday.”

Alexander stood back up, taking little Angie back to the bedroom with him. Philip was curled up asleep in Elizabeth’s arms. The banging and yelling went on for several hours into the night. Everyone was asleep, but at four in the morning Alexander was still awake. The street had quieted down as people went home, or too celebrate. There were still a few drunk people roaming around. Alexander took Angelica back to her room, tucking her inside her crib.

He proceeded to walk out into the front steps of his home. The night was cold and crisp. Alexander grabbed a thick jacket as he took a step into the dark air. The cold hit like a blast at first, compared to the inside where wooden fires kept the home warm. He went back inside, grabbing his scarf and gloves before taking a walk around the block.

Snow crunched underneath his feet. He saw a small group of children throwing snowballs. He figured their parents must be at the party that was being hosted inside. Silhouettes danced across the curtains, music drifting from the door that was open. He smelt ham and potatoes drifting from the home as well. Walking past, he saw ladies and men dressed up in their best sipping on Champagne and cider. They were laughing, and talking as if nothing in the world mattered.

Alexander has to be awake in two hours in order to start New Years breakfast. He promised Elizabeth she could sleep in while he made breakfast. It was the least he could do for making her beat their children. Alexander pulled his coat tighter around him as snow began to fall once more. He found a tavern that was still open and slipped inside. Many men and women were dancing and singing. Alexander found a stool unoccupied near the end of the bar.

“You don’t seem very festive.” The tavern owner told him.

“Not today. My family is alone asleep. I didn’t want to wake them with constant pacing, so I somehow through my travels ended up here.”

“Did you travel far?” The owner asked.

“No, I live right down the street with my wife and our two small children.”

“What would you like?”

“Oh nothing please. I came to clear my head, not fog it.”

“One drink on the house. Please I insist.” The wonder poured him a glass of whiskey. Alexander took it not wanting to be rude. He glanced around, slowly sipping on his drink. He noticed people come and go as the hours went on. Alexander eventually finished his whiskey before falling asleep at the counter. When he awoke, the had a blanket draped over him. He rubbed his eyes and saw the tavern empty except the owner who was cleaning glasses.

“Excuse me sir, may I acquire the time?” Alexander asked running his fingers through his hair. The tavern owner turned to him and smiled.

“Morning, and it is seven in the morning.” He nodded. Alexander carefully took the blanket off and folded it, placing it on the stool.

“Thank you sir for the blanket.” Alexander tipped his hat to the owner before walking back out into the cold. An inch more of snow had covered the ground. He hurried his way home to find his family still asleep upstairs. He took his outside attire off, placing it in a coat closet near the door. He went to the powder room, and rinsed his hands before heading to the kitchen.

In an icebox, he pulled out a few eggs and some bacon. He had given the cook the day off to be with her son. This was all on his own. He placed some coal in fire before taking a chance at cooking. It wasn’t long before he had failed. He threw his mess away, sitting down at the table in defeat. He sat back up when he heard tiny footsteps coming down the stairs. He saw Philip race towards him followed by Eliza carrying their daughter.

“I’m sorry Elizabeth. I tried. I’m not a cook though apparently.” Elizabeth walked over and kissed the top of his head.

“It’s fine Alexander. You did your best and tried to do something nice. I appreciate it more than anything. We can wait until lunch. Don’t forget, my parents have invited us over for lunch.”

“Yes, I remember.” Alexander told her giving a small smiled. He got up from the table and ran his hands down his face. “I’m going to get washed up. I’ll be back in a bit.” Alexander walked upstairs. When he got upstairs he fell back on the bed. Taking a deep breath, he collected him and got up to get ready. He shook off the horror of the night before, and got ready for the new day, for the new year which has now begun. This year he had promised to be a better husband. To be a better father. He wanted Elizabeth to know that he was dedicated to the family. He knew he was not the best. He didn’t have the proper role models growing up to teach him how to be a good father and husband. He had to teach himself, and learn from those like George Washington. With a third child on the way, Alexander wanted to be more attentive to what his wife needed and wanted of him.

An hour had passed before Alexander came back downstairs. Philip was trying to read a new book he was given for Christmas. Angelica Junior was asleep in her mother’s lap. Elizabeth was covered in flour.

“I made some bread to take to my parents. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No of course not. That’s completely fine. Do you need anything? Water? A blanket? I want you to be comfortable. I hate when you are not.”

“Alexander, I’ll be fine. I promise. This is not the first pregnancy I’ve been through.”

“Yes, I know, but I want to be a better husband.”

“You already are an amazing husband Alexander. You are also an amazing father. Nothing you do could change that. I know who I married, and I married an amazing man who can do anything he sets his mind too. Do not worry my darling Alexander, you couldn’t do anything better than you already are.”

“Are you sure my dearest Bestsy?”

“Yes I’m sure.” Elizabeth got up and kissed Alexander. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too Elizabeth.” Alexander hugged her close. He felt her warm breath against his skin and smiled. “How did I get so lucky with you.”

“One May call it fate, others God’s plan. I don’t care which, because I got a good man.” Alexander giggled at her little rhyme. He still would never understand how he got lucky, but he never questioned it. He loves Elizabeth and she loves him.

#turn washington's spies #hamilton #turn amc #alexander hamilton #hamilton the musical #hamliza #eliza schuyler #history facts #fanfic #fandom

[qdtquietdownthere]

Day 7- Cats and dogs and aerobics.

Day 7

I eat a Portuguese custard tart from the library this morning. I am becoming obsessed. Tell you what though, they've made me a local, a regular, and I am now at the point where the lady who runs the cafe says hi to me in the morning. I say hi back too of course. ( golden rules- become a regular)

Straight to exercise class with a Portuguese tart still in my upper belly. Its in the community centre that the lunch club was in, but this time its upstairs in an equally run down space. This makes is a safe space though, it is nothing too snazzy, too characteristic to make walking into an unknown class scary. Unlike a virgin active gym or one of these snazzy soho gyms this space is honest. Honest is inviting. It is for everyone. 

The class is free and there is around 12 of us. Im told to wear comfy clothes so I am wearing a jumpsuit and a t-shirt. Bad call- I sweat profusely. It is a mixture of cardio strength and punching and dancing followed by a little yoga. We hold a plank position for 2 minutes on an off and I feel I am in some insane olympic boot camp. There is a range of fitnesses and our teacher (a local who knows everyones names) is encouraging and funny. I like being here and feel completely valid and welcome in whatever I am wearing and whatever my fitness. I speak to a lady after class who comes regularly and must be in her late 70’s. There is also a younger woman in the class who brings her little boy. He sits in the buggy and sometimes cries but it is not a problem. This relaxed atmosphere, no booking, no scary music, no ‘being late’ or issues about leaving early are a problem. It makes it accessible. 

The class is women only and this is for religious reasons, Sahara tells me (the class teacher) after our 1hr session. We walk and talk about art and the area. She talks about Churchill gardens history and the history of Dolphin square. 

So I head on over to Battersea towards the Dog and cat home. A different world. A free bicycle station is set up just before the bridge. Its funded by Westminster council and it makes me happy to see yet another free service. Again, it is approachable. I write on my phone as I walk, and as I walk over the bridge I look back over at Churchill gardens, with its amazing flats sticking out over the canopy of trees. It is oasis like. It seems to be cut off from the rest of the world. 

The next section is from the notes on my phone:

Battersea bridge. A huge development across the water. Flats over the bridge are all a development. Flats with concierge and glass balconies. The area and walk to the cat home feels like a new pair of shoes which need to be worn in. I don't feel so comfortable here, its so clean that it feels a little dirty.  I want to go back to Pimlico. They want to build a pedestrian bridge which will connect Battersea with Pimlico from Georges park. Pimlico is not happy with this…and the reasons? I have heard mixed opinions varying from who will it attract, will it bring crime, whats the point. More importantly the word ‘Waitrose' has also come up a few times. Elizabeth is keen to be able to cycle over and get to Waitrose, but a lady in my exercise class said that everything the community needs is on our doorstep (and how could we forget the number 24 bus which goes straight to the big Tesco) I notice that communities thrive in routine and comfort of the predictable. Don't we all? When I worked at the museum every day half way through my cycle home I would stop at one particular Sainsbury's express to get this one particular coconut chocolate bar thing. Creatures of habit and place. It is becoming more apparent how clear the boundaries of each estate and area are. Not in a hostile way. It is just common knowledge where people are from and where their street ends. So many times I have been told about roads or given direction with this confident presumption that i know each street by its name. This community is interwoven in its place. 

I fight constantly between ideas on expansion and local. But people want to belong to a group and a group that works. whats happening in Tottenham is not happening in Westminster ( Local maybe wins this short tangent of a debate) 

I am at Battersea dog and cat home. I eat another sweet treat and try to adopt a cat called Marley. It doesn't feel local here. I have an interview with a lady about my suitability to be a cat owner, during which I try to ask about the area and where the cats go/come but she tells me she cannot say as the work they do is so far reaching. Its nice though, and I fall involve with a big fat dog and a big cat fat. We would have all made a great family.

I walk home towards Pimlico, back along this major road but I duck into Battersea park, which is where I am writing from. The sun is on my laptop (I hope it doing combust) and a green parrot has just flow in front of me. I will stay here for a while thinking and writing and watching. I feel funny today, Its a bitty day. The schedule feels a little jolted, which it has never felt before. I think maybe it feels like this because i have left the area I have come to know. Its funny leaving it and entering new uncharted lands. Whenever i have done this by myself I do it on my bike. Walking is different. I can see why people don't leave Pimlico. Or why anyone doesn't leave their areas. Comfort and confidence. 

I am now sat eating a curry in Pimlico Spice and I do not want to be here. I am the only person in the restaurant and I order something i would never order. The two young men serving me are probably wondering what I am doing by myself at 6pm eating a huge bowl of curry. I would never go out for dinner by myself. Eating lunch- fine. But dinner? Actually maybe it would be fine if there was at least one other person in this restaurant eating. Not just me. At 6pm. I am funny about food. Brought up with broccoli every night I don't like to eat unhealthy things. Food is something we have control over and I like eating what I like and know. Sat here with the two waiters awkwardly walking around me I feel on display. Food, new food, is a social thing. I should have a friend here, or anyone. I wouldn't think twice about it. I don't want to eat the food I have in particular but it was a chef special and I think it is time to branch away from a Saag Paneer. 2 groups of people come in, all for take away. Eating dinner in a restaurant by myself makes me feel so lonely. I want to go home now. 

I am home and downstairs is a half eaten curry in tup a wear in the fridge. When I was on the tube I was worried it was going to spill everywhere, all over my lap and the floor and the seat, and everyone would know I am the girl who ate a sad curry by myself for my dinner. 

[sequoiann]

limerence

pairing: mingyu x reader genre: angst, fluff, ceo!gyu, secretary vernon word count: 16.3k

synopsis: a pretty typical ceo fic, but with the ups and downs of falling in love with someone of such a high position.  

“Y/N! Could you help me mop the floor at the back? I’ll take care of the cashier,” the slightly plump lady requested.

“Sure,” you responded, and she smiles in gratitude. You return the smile. She was the owner of the mart you were working at — and she was amazingly nice and sweet, like a mother. She wasn’t often in the store when you were doing your shift, but she comes by once in a while to check up on you and help out, although she is the lady boss. She even brings packed food sometimes.

You were a part-timer who had worked pretty much everywhere. You had a job as a barista, a salesperson, and as mentioned, a cashier at a mart — everything. You knew that your family wasn’t very well-off, even though they tried to hide it from you. But c’mon, you were a grown-up, you would be able to tell as years went by. But you had pretended you didn’t.

You pretended that you didn’t see how your mother would always not eat the meat and give them to you and your older brother during meals. You pretended that you never noticed how your father works overtime almost every day, just to bring home an extra meagre sum of money. You acted oblivious to the fact that you often heard your parent’s quarrels in the middle of the night, after they assumed that you had gone to sleep, about the household bills and their unpaid debts.

You had quietly worked hard in high school and college, where you had taken up a marketing course, making an internal vow to yourself to get a good job when you grew older to feed your family properly and just clear up all their debts and bills at once. It even made you daydream sometimes, about how it would be like if you and your family were free of financial issues. That made you envy others a lot more, too. It must be nice being so free of worries.

However, your university life didn’t last very long. Having to juggle almost 3 part-time jobs while in college didn’t do you much good, and you soon had to drop out because one, you knew you couldn’t stop working — as your pay was providing the family almost half of the amount of money that they had — and two, because you couldn’t afford your school bills any longer.

There. Bills again.

So that happened. You stopped schooling, even though you were one of the best students in the cohort. They provided scholarship since your results qualified you for it, but of what use was it if you don’t even have time to sit through every class without having to rush off?

As a result, you started focusing on working with whatever knowledge you had from school. You didn’t have a diploma or anything, but you had your persuading techniques.

You were on your usual evening shift as a cashier in a mart that day, and a well-groomed stranger walked in, dressed smartly in a suit, his dark blonde hair styled up. He looked so high in both social and business status that you were almost afraid to look straight at him as he enters the store. What would such a rich-looking man be doing here, you thought. Shouldn’t you be shopping at a high-class mall? Sipping red wine in a restaurant? Ordering your steak in your superior language that I never understood?

However, the tone of your voice did not succumb to your thoughts. “Welcome,” you greeted him automatically, trying to make it as chirpy as you could without it sounding overly bright.

The corner of the man’s lips turned up slightly in response, walking over to your cashier. You panicked for a moment. He hasn’t even browsed the store yet? Why was he going over to you? Was he one of the debt collectors or something?

Instead, the man pulls out a business card from a cardholder, handing it over to you politely with two hands; and you respectfully receive it with both hands too, befuddled.

“This is…?” you ask, your eyes scanning through the details printed on the small card. It read:

Kim Marketing Company Hansol Vernon Chwe Secretary [phone] Seoul, Street 86, Building 7

“My name’s Vernon,” he says, not answering your question. You noticed how a small, friendly smile played on his lips, though he remained formal. “My CEO would like to invite you over to the company.”

You blinked. “Me?”

The man named Vernon nodded.

You laughed a little, extending your arm to return the business card back to him. “Sorry, but I think you’ve gotten the wrong person.”

Vernon shakes his head. “You’re Y/F/N, 20, dropped out of Haein College, right?”

You widened your eyes, unsure whether to feel offended at the last comment. Your voice drops. “How’d you know?”

Vernon chuckles, breaking off from his cool demeanor.  “Because you’re who I’m supposed to find,” he said.

You were still not convinced. “But… Me? Why?”

“Mr. Kim would like to have you as an employee, Miss Y/N,” he explains simply. “Everything will be further explained to you by Mr. Kim himself. He’s very keen on meeting you, actually.”

“E-employee?” you parrot. Vernon nods, getting just slightly annoyed at how slow you were catching on, even though he had practically spelled everything out for you.

“Do you know who exactly am I?” you said, your tone dropping as your sentence progressed as you caught yourself sounding a bit too harsh. “I dropped out of college. I don’t have a diploma, a certificate or whatever, I don’t really have any office-working experience either—”

“That’s no problem, Miss Y/N,” Vernon interrupts. “We’ll train you from scratch in the office.”

You hesitated, your thoughts rushing through your head as it tried to process the long-term advantages and disadvantages of working in an actual company. It would definitely increase your pay by a whole lot, and you wouldn’t have to be standing all day. But should you actually trust this man? What if it doesn’t work out? As you had said, you had zero experience of working in the business industry.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now, you know,” Vernon says. “You can just come to the office, hear what the CEO has to say, then decide.”

Well, that solves everything, doesn’t it? It won’t hurt to just check it out.

“Alright then.”

Vernon broke out in a smile once again, showing a hint of relief. “Great. Is your schedule clear tomorrow?”

“Only in the afternoon, for about an hour or so… I’ve got a couple shifts tomorrow to work for,” you said while grimacing, although unsure if he in the know of your financial situation.

“That’s no problem either. I can ring up your boss and talk to him, and we’ll cover for your pay for tomorrow.”

“It’s a ‘her’, actually,” you corrected, to which Vernon responds by forming an ‘o’ with his mouth.

You couldn’t help but express your amazement. Money really does wonders, huh? One can even buy time.

“Alright then. What time do I go over?”

“I’ll pick you up at, say, 3pm? Is that okay?” he asked, flipping through a black leather-cased book, which you assumed contained his schedules.

Your eyebrows furrow together in puzzlement. Pick me up?

“You know where I live?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him, suspicious. A sheepish laughter bubbled from Vernon as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry to say, but we’ve done a pretty deep background research on you before approaching… So yes,” he said, and you pressed your lips together to form a straight line. Vernon does the same, apologizing once more, knowing that it was pretty much an invasion of privacy.

You were going to get mad at him, but his guilt showed through his features, making you shrug it off in the end. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Vernon smiles and nods, bowing slightly. “See you tomorrow, Miss Y/N.”

Just like that, the plan was confirmed, and Vernon picked you up from your front porch the next day, right on the dot at 3:00pm. He wasn’t the one driving, though; there was a chauffeur — another man at the wheel, one of whom you didn’t really hear the voice of. You didn’t even see his full face, only catching glimpses of his features through the rear mirror in the car after you sat at the back, with Vernon in the passenger seat. The car was black and shiny on the outside; matte and well-kempt on the inside. The seats were all made of expensive-looking leather, and you could only guess how much it cost.

You donned a pretty formal outfit; a light blue long-sleeved blouse with white skinny jeans. You had barely worn this set of clothes before (though you wear jeans often) — you never had the need to dress formally. Your blouse was so deep down in the closet that it was all wrinkled and crumpled up when you took it out. But you had made sure it was ironed out, pressed till it was crisp but flowy. Your mother had given you questioning looks, but you just gave her a wry smile.

Vernon had greeted you with a smile, subtly complimenting on your attire, but other than that the car ride was fairly silent, and comfortably so.

The car drove out of the area where you lived, and into the city — and you could see the view outside gradually transition from the sight of trees and humble houses to towering skyscrapers and busy roads.

As you followed Vernon into the building, you couldn’t help but widen your eyes at the professionally-designed space. Workers bustled around and about, not noticing that you, a stranger, was in the private building. Not that you mind — made everything less awkward.

It was never your plan to step foot in such a big company building, or anything close to an environment that resembled it. It was majestically huge, the glassy interior making it look classy. The offices you passed by as the Vernon leads you down the hallways were all painted grey and white, having large floor-to-ceiling windows which faced the main road, in the state of a half-organized clutter — mahogany desks placed back-to-back with just enough space to walk, swivel chairs, mac books and pens in a tin on every tabletop, tall black bookshelves designed in a unique zigzag manner, with books leaning against one another in different directions, filing cabinet with paperwork stacked on top, and a coffee maker which was just slightly stained.

The both of you came to the elevator, entering it when it reached the level you were on. Vernon presses the button with the number “23″ on it — the top floor. You subconsciously started fidgeting with your hands as the elevator made its way higher and higher up, nervous to actually meet someone of such a high status.

“Calm down,” Vernon said after noticing your tenseness. “He’s pretty nice, don’t worry.”

You smiled dryly, grateful for his attempt at calming your nerves.

The elevator finally reaches the 23rd floor, and Vernon extends his hand, gesturing for you to exit first, and you do. The two of you walk down a hallway which randomly twisted and turned, and you were sure that you would easily get lost in a single level by yourself.

“Here,” Vernon said, stopping in front of a large wooden-looking door. You swallowed as Vernon knocks lightly at the door. A gentle “come in” was heard, and he pushes the door open.

You nearly forgot that you were there to see the CEO after you stepped in, your eyes scanning the whole room. It was huge and beautifully furnished, warm lights lining the ceiling, giving the room an extremely calming atmosphere.

“Mr. Kim,” Vernon said to the CEO — who had his eyes on the paperwork lying on his table — to raise his awareness of your presence, and you quickly came back to your senses, turning your attention to the end of the room where the office table stood. ‘Mr. Kim’ stands up upon your entrance, and buttons up his suit, walking over to the sitting area where you and Vernon had stopped at.

You bowed quickly. “Hello, Mr. Kim.”

As he comes closer, you noticed how handsome he was. Like he really, really was — so much so that you started questioning how you hadn’t noticed the moment you came in. He had the kind of face that would stop you in your tracks, and you guessed that he must be used to that, the sudden pause in a person’s natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. His facial structure was fine and perfectly symmetrical, his hair styled back sleekly. His height was staggeringly tall, and he looked like someone who would grace the covers of a fashion magazine. There was softness in his eyes, his gentle smile welcoming.

You nearly agreed to work under the company right there and then. I mean, you would be able to see this living god every day, who wouldn’t want that

“You must be Y/N,” he says, and you nod. “Have a seat.”

Vernon was instructed to wait outside. You sat down on the firm but comfy sofa, a black coffee table in front of you, and Mr. Kim takes his place on the single couch diagonally beside you.

“I’m Kim Mingyu, the CEO of Kim Marketing,” he introduces, and you two exchange a handshake. “Feel free to call me Mingyu if that makes you more comfortable.”

You smiled at his hospitality.

“I’m Y/F/N,” you said, feeling a little weird inside since you knew he already knew you way past your name. He chuckles a little at how poised and systematic you were acting.

“So, I’m sure Vernon has already filled you in on the main point of me calling you in, right?” he starts, sitting in a way such that he would be facing you.

“He did, but he only told me about you wanting to employ me,” you informed him, and he nods.

“Yes, I do,” he said, and you showed your surprise as if it was your first time hearing it all over again.

“But why?” you asked, almost sounding overly disbelieving. “I—”

“— dropped out of college, don’t have a diploma, a certificate or whatever, and you don’t really have any office-working experience either,” Mingyu cuts you off, and you cocked your head to a side slightly at the familiar words and speaking tone. “Right?”

You could literally feel the deja vu rush through every cell in your body. You were subtly bewildered. “…Yeah.”

Mingyu laughs again at your expression, his sharp, charming canines showing. “Vernon quotes others quite often. And he does it with a lot of… emotions… in his words.”

You widened your eyes in realization, laughter bubbling from your lips.

“But that doesn’t matter. I’ve received information that you topped the cohort for two years in Haein College, did you not?” Mingyu asks.

“Yes… I did, but I didn’t last in there till the last year,” you said, your lips pursed in a small pout.

Mingyu smiles at the sight. “That’s fine. I’ve reviewed your work from Haein College, and I really hope you’d agree to be employed by my company,” he said. “You seem to have a lot of talent in this industry. You did really well in understanding concepts that many people fail to.”

You were flattered. “Really? I never knew.”

“Well, now you do,” Mingyu says, and you grin.

“But what would I be doing? And… um…” you hesitate, wary that your question would be too direct and impolite. “The pay…?”

“Oh, of course,” Mingyu said, indifferent. “You can start off with the Market Research Analyst team, where the main responsibility is to gather and analyze market data. The team now has about 14 people, and they devise methods and procedures for obtaining data, such as conducting Internet, telephone or direct-mail surveys or face-to-face consumer studies. It’s not as hard as it sounds, though, you’ll learn as you go.

“The pay for that would be around…” his eyes looked up to a corner as he thought. “…$6,000 to $7,000 a month?”

You were almost sure that your ears nearly physically propped up once he got to the money portion of the talk. “6k?”

Mingyu nods in confirmation. “But I think you’d be able to move up to the Marketing Manager position quick with a brain like yours. That position has an annual pay of about $123,450.”

Your eyeballs nearly bulged out of their sockets, and you started being even more incredulous.

“Are you sure you want to hire me? What’s the catch?” you questioned almost suspiciously, making Mingyu chuckle.

“No catch,” he said. “I just hope you’d work with me.”

More like under you, though.

“No interest fee either? For my lack of, like, everything?” you asked again.

Mingyu shakes his head. “No interest. You have a lot of knowledge and sense, you’d be able to help us a lot.”

You became so deep in thought — you were really considering taking up the job. It all seemed pretty legitimate now, and the pay was unquestionably mindblowing — and the environment was definitely great. You would be able to pay off your family’s debts easily if you get the position.

You didn’t notice Mingyu stand up from his seat and grab something from his table drawer — the contract. He places it in front of you patiently.

“If you want to,” he says. “It’s all up to you in the end.”

You stare at the black hard case in front of you, pressing your lips together.

“Oh, and also, we’ll provide for your meals during your working hours, and there’s a little resting room at the back with beds. You can nap there if you need to,” Mingyu said, adding to the pile of pull factors that were already in the list.

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like Google’s office.”

Mingyu beamed, almost proudly. “We try.”

You chuckled at his humor, then gently flipped the contract file open, as if it would break if not treated with care. You were internally confused about what you had to do — you never signed an actual contract before. All your jobs were part-time ones.

Mingyu shifts a bit further to the edge of his seat so that he’s closer to you. “Just read through it, and we can discuss further if there are any changes you’d like to make. If not, just sign at the bottom, on the line.” His fingers grazed the paper as he spoke, and you unavoidably noticed how sleek his fingers were.

You read through the whole agreement, which took you a while since it was so dramatically long, but you got to the end soon enough. Mingyu just sat there, looking at you (but not in an uncomfortable manner), patiently waiting for your final response. There was really nothing for you to rebut — everything was to your advantage. You could drop all your current jobs and just work this one, and you’d still be earning more than those 3 jobs combined.

And you signed it, of course. How could you not?

“So, what’s the dress code for work here?” you inquired.

Mingyu shrugs. “It’s up to you, just don’t come in wearing flip-flops, please,” he said, smiling cheekily. “As I said, we do try to be Google-like, but we still need to be… proper, you know?”

You laughed. “Of course.”

You started your first day of work the day after. You were nervous, for sure, but the adrenaline surging through you wasn’t low-profile either. You had literally jolted upright on your bed awake early in the morning the moment your alarm rang its first ring, and you slammed the ‘off’ button. Your brown locks were in a mess, sticking out in weird directions, some strands all over your face — probably due to your tossing and turning during the night — but that wasn’t something that you cared about.

You had told your mother about your new job while being a giggly mess the day before while she was reading the papers. And she didn’t believe you, of course.

“You? My daughter? In Kim Marketing?” she said. “I think they’d rather hire the stray cat that’s wandering outside. Should I adopt it?”

You whined and pulled on her arm like a child. “I’m serious! I signed the contract!”

Your mother had only started to believe you after your continuous persistence.

“…Really?”

You hummed sharply and nodded. “Yeah!”

You could see the joy and happiness in your mother’s eyes, but she kept it low-key. “Don’t work too hard, you’re still young!”

“I’ve been working even harder with the three jobs, Mom,” you pointed out, and she sighed.

“Right.”

After washing up, you went outside and noticed that your mother was already awake, although it was just seven in the morning. She placed a plate on the dining table.

“Woah, you made something for breakfast?” you asked, eyes enlarging and mouthwatering.

“Of course,” you mother said, seeming satisfied with her own cookery. Your family rarely eats for breakfast; it was a redundant meal in your opinion. “It’s my daughter’s first day.”

You grinned, partially in embarrassment, and sat down at the table, being extra quiet as you pulled the chair out since your brother was still asleep. You assumed that your father was already out for work; you rarely see him home, actually.

Your mother sat opposite you, and you eyed the waffles on the plate, which had strawberry jam drizzled over it neatly.

“Dig in,” your mother said, folding her arms on the table, smiling. “I made the food for you to eat, not stare, you know.”

You laughed and started indulging in the food prepared.

Once you were done, you headed back to your room to change. You had already picked out an outfit the previous day, even trying it on to make sure it looked okay.

It was a fairly simple white turtleneck sweater, paired with light blue jeans that were something you wore often. It looked formal enough, but not over-the-top.

You patted on your usual makeup and threw on your apricot trench coat, leaving it unbuttoned, and left the house after pulling on your shoes and waving your mum goodbye.

You took the public bus there, but you were in no rush since it was still pretty early. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you swiped the screen, opening the unread message.

From Vernon: first day today, right? :p

You smiled.

Sent: haha yep! im on the bus now!

You laid your head back for a moment, looking out of the bus window, but you received a reply a second later.

From Vernon: ?? bus ??

Sent: yeahhhh, why?

From Vernon: you’ll take forever to get here!

Sent: it’s okay HAHA i’ll get there on time!! it’s still kinda early

Sent: i don’t think i’ll get killed for being like five minutes late even if like a jam happens right?

From Vernon: yeah u won’t but no that won’t do

From Vernon: i’ll get vernon to pick you up

Your eyes immediately darted to the contact name to check who you were texting. When you confirmed that it was indeed Vernon, you checked his message again. And it did have Vernon’s name on the last received text.

Sent: ??

Sent: are you not vernon?

You were suddenly so cautious of your messages.

From Vernon: yeah vernon here now

From Vernon: mingyu wanted to check on you and he took my phone bc he doesn’t have your number ahaaa

You nearly dropped your phone and screamed. You were talking so casually to him. You were fairly uninhibited with him before, but now that he was officially your boss, you can’t help but feel the inferiority complex set in. Vernon was a little different though, since he had talked to you for quite a bit that day after you left Mingyu’s office, even going out of his way to buy coffee for you — and you two were friendly with each other now, after agreeing to drop the formalities since you two were only a year apart in age.

Sent: !?!?!?!

Sent: I’M SORRY MR KIM

From Vernon: i’ll relay that message

From Vernon: ,,mr. kim is confused as to why you’re apologizing

Sent: VERNON

From Vernon: WHAT

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. You noticed how Vernon had been using ‘Mr. Kim’ and ‘Mingyu’ interchangeably, which only shows how long they’ve been working together. They must be close, you thought.

From Vernon: anyway, u heard Mr Kim !!

From Vernon: get off the bus at the next stop and text me where you’re @

Sent: no thank you i’ll take the bus >:(

From Vernon: mr. kim is gunna get mad

Sent: I’M OFF THE BUS

You legitimately instantly pressed the bell on the bus pole, getting off at the next stop. If there was anything you had learnt from your past part-time jobs, it was to never go against your boss’s words.

From Vernon: i hate you

You laughed, sitting down on the seat under the sheltered stop. You glanced around, looking for the name of the road you were on, and texted it over to Vernon.

Sent: i’m getting on the next bus if you don’t get here quick

From Vernon: first of all, i’m older than you, how dare you order me around like that

From Vernon: second of all, do you hear the vroom vroom

You laughed aloud again, internally grateful that there was no one around the stop you were at. They’d think you were crazy, chuckling to yourself.

Vernon really reaches about ten to fifteen minutes later, pulling up in front of you. You easily recognized his car — the one that was your ride to the company building a few days ago.

He was not the one driving, like the previous time; the same chauffeur was behind the wheel. You only recognized him by the back of his head. Vernon was in the passenger seat.

You got into the car, seating at the back again.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you were gone when we got here,” Vernon jokes, looking behind at you, and you grin.

“Thanks for picking me up, though,” you said, and Vernon shakes his head as the chauffeur starts driving.

“No problem. It’s Mr. Kim’s orders, after all,” he said. “At this rate, he’s probably going to purchase a house for you in the city so that you can get to the office more easily.”

You scoffed, smiling subconsciously. “Why would he?”

Vernon shrugged, recalling the morning that day. “He seems to like you quite a bit.”

Mingyu threw his ash-grey ironed suit over his white dress shirt, fixing up his cufflinks. He made sure his hair was styled to perfection, and couldn’t stop checking the mirror.

“How do I look?” Mingyu asked Vernon, who was going through the schedules for the day.

“Good, Mr. Kim,” Vernon said, amused at his extraneous care on how he looked.

“Really? Do I look a little extra rad today?” Mingyu asks, tugging on his suit to straighten it, before spreading both his arms to the side to give Vernon a ‘better look’.

“A little, I guess.” Vernon complied, laughing. “What’s the special occasion?”

Mingyu smiles, suddenly acting aloof. “It’s nothing… I just felt the need to check.”

Vernon chuckled and shook his head at the recollection, and you just snickered quietly at the sight, not questioning.

“We’re here!” Vernon chirped, and you chuckled at how bright he was, pushing the car door open, not forgetting to thank the driver — who had acknowledged your gratitude with a nod — before stepping out and closing the door after you.

Vernon and you walked into the building, and you definitely felt the difference — it was like, hey, you’re working here now.

“Good morning!”

You turned to the owner of the sprightly voice, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Mingyu.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim,” you greeted back, bowing slightly. Mingyu furrows his eyebrows together in disapproval.

“Why the sudden formalities?” he asked. “Just keep at Mingyu.”

Vernon widened his eyes in shock. You could practically see question marks dancing around the crown of his head.

“But I’ve been with you longer, for, like, 3 years and you only allowed me to—” Mingyu cut Vernon off with a mild side glare, and the sense of betrayal lining Vernon’s voice caused you to snicker.

“No, Mr. Kim, it’s only right that we keep the formalities. You are my boss, after all. It makes me feel more at ease like this,” you said truthfully, trying to keep a straight face while speaking as you saw Vernon in your peripheral vision with disbelief written all over his face, causing you to glance at him for a moment and break out giggling again.

“Ah, is that so?” Mingyu muttered, nodding and following your line of gaze at Vernon, who had hurriedly switched his scowling expression to a bright, gummy smile. “…Alright then.”

Mingyu squinted at Vernon skeptically, but Vernon only gave a wider, more awkward smile.

“I’ll take her up to her department, Mr. Kim,” Vernon said, but Mingyu interrupts.

“No, that’s fine,” he said. “I’ll take her.”

Vernon seemed like he was going to disapprove of Mingyu’s decision, but didn’t argue in the end. “Alright. I’ll head back to the office first then.”

Mingyu nodded, and Vernon bowed before leaving to wherever he was supposed to go.

“Let’s go,” Mingyu said, walking towards the lift. You immediately synced up with his footing, falling into place like an eager child. You wouldn’t deny that you were indeed excited about your new job.

When you two arrived at the lift, Mingyu clicked his tongue, his head cocking to a side dubiously. “Didn’t you just meet Vernon the other day, when I asked for him to look for you and invite you over to the company?”

You nodded. “Yes, of course. That was our first time meeting. Why?”

Mingyu sharply sucked in air, stepping into the elevator which had arrived at your floor. “You two just seem a little close for new friends.”

You stepped in after him, chuckling. “Do we? I mean, he is nice.”

Mingyu wrinkled his face in a scrunch. “Only sometimes.”

You laughed.

Mingyu led you out of the elevator, and down a couple of hallways, passing a few wide open areas here and there.

“Remember where your office is,” Mingyu said. “I can’t be bringing you every day.”

You widened your eyes in realization. You hadn’t taken note of the routes since you stepped out of the elevator. (Yes, a single level was that big.) “Shoot.”

Mingyu chuckled, stopping in front of a translucent glass door. “Here we are.”

He pushes the door open and holds it there for you, allowing you to go in first. You did, and he went in after you.

“The office isn’t the biggest, but the people you’ll be working with are right next door. That door at the back connects all your offices,” Mingyu said.

You didn’t reply — you were too busy staring at the office — your office. Your eyes travel to the door Mingyu was talking about; it was situated snug at the corner of the room, implanted in an also translucent glass wall that was a foggy green, separating the office next to yours. The left side of your office was a bare wall (your office was at the end of the hallway), so only a single door was at the back of the right thick glass pane.

A fairly lengthy black desk was sitting at approximately the quarter mark of the room, an office chair tucked under it, a MacBook sitting closed on top of the desk, and a mini vase of flowers in the corner.

“Are those real?” was the first thing you asked, a meek finger pointing to the beautiful, pink-and-purple floral blooms.

Mingyu smiled sheepishly. “No, they’re not, but we can bring in real ones if you’d like.”

You immediately shook your head. “No thanks! They’d probably die in two days or something.”

Honestly, you loved flowers, and you had them at home, during the time when you were actually still free. But in your workspace, no, you didn’t think you’d have time to water them every day.

Laughter bubbled from Mingyu. “I relate to that.”

“So, get cracking, assignments are already listed in your laptop. It’s all quite orderly and simple, I’m sure you’d be able to do them. Jihoon is right next to your office, you can ask him if there’s anything you have trouble with. Learn as you go,” Mingyu said.

“Sure, Mr. Kim,” you replied, and he smiled once again before taking his leave.

“Have fun!” he said, making you chuckle.

“Oh, right.” Mingyu suddenly enters again, before the door closed fully. “I almost forgot.”

You turned to him questioningly, looking around for a moment to check if he had left anything behind. “Yes?”

He pulls something out of his suit pocket, extending his hand and passing the object to you. “Here.”

You retrieved it, and a wide grin moulded itself onto your face. It was your personal company identification card, with a black lanyard which had white wordings of ‘Kim Marketing’ lining the entire strap.

You couldn’t contain the squeal that erupted from you. “Thank you, Mr. Kim!”

Mingyu smiled. “Not a problem.”

He leaves the room for real now, and you settled down in your seat, still staring at your identification card. The photo on it was from your photo taken in Haein College, but you didn’t mind. The photo wasn’t taken much long ago and you looked decent in it. Thrilled thoughts were running through your mind, and you were beyond elated.

You were an office worker now. You’re literally gonna get paid a sum for sitting down and doing mainstream work (to you, at least) in this beautiful environment, with such nice people…

Woah.

Like that, days passed, and months moved along with it. You were able to pay for all your family’s debts and easily help with the utility bills after receiving your monthly payment — that took a huge weight off your shoulders. You got by every day of work with fair ease, although there was, of course, times when you would just feel overwhelmed with the paperwork you needed to complete as more work was entrusted into your hands.

But it was nothing you would dare complain about. Compared to all your past jobs, this was beyond heaven. Your friendship with Vernon didn’t get superbly far to the point where you two were ultra-best-friends, since he was your higher-up after all. However, it was an unspoken agreement for you two to always hang out for a bit if your lunch timings overlapped, sometimes heading out to the nearby cafe to grab some needed dose of caffeine. Vernon usually orders an extra as takeout for Mingyu, since the oh-so-busy man never had time to leave his office to travel ‘that far’ to get coffee. Vernon had subtly spilled that Mingyu was really just lazy.

Oddly, many of the files you had received were ones that had to get back to the CEO, aka Mingyu. You were tasked to make any necessary edits to the documents and check for any numbers that seemed off. By then, your job scope was pretty much doing a little bit of everything. Not many of your co-workers seemed to like the idea of going all the way upstairs to Mingyu’s office to deliver the completed work, so you became a little messenger. That, you wouldn’t grumble about either — you were the youngest in the industry, and it would be downright disrespectful to be unwilling to carry out duties given to you. Besides, you personally didn’t really find it a chore to go upstairs. You liked leaving your seat every once in a while, considering the fact that it gave you time to stretch a bit to release the tension building up in your neck, and you’d have the leisure to walk around the building while on your way up to Mingyu’s office; no one would be there to rush you to deliver the documents.

That was how your trips to Mingyu’s office became frequent, and you two would simply exchange a few words before you took your leave. “Have a good day”, and “Thanks again, Y/N” became phrases you heard every day, to which you’d reply with “You too, Mr. Kim” and “No problem, Mr. Kim” respectively — it was almost robotic. Almost. He didn’t brush you off, though — he always looks up to smile, slightly or not, and would occasionally get up from his seat when you knocked so that he could take the marigold-color file from you himself; appreciation and recognition were definitely high up on his list of attributes. Owing to that, you would always find yourself shooting glances at Mingyu’s figure sitting behind his desk, blinking as if capturing a picture with your eyes to be stored in your mind. You were liking him more than you should.

You gradually became somewhat of Mingyu’s side-assistant, and would periodically spend time in his office — which was huge, if not emphasized yet — sitting on any one of the couches in the room with your laptop on your lap to help with whatever he needed aid in. You had usually remained silent whenever in his office, and the only sounds that could be heard were the soft clicking sounds of Mingyu’s mouse or the typing noises that more than often came from you. There were times where you two would talk, of course, but it was only about work — if you had any doubts about your assignment — to which he would very politely and patiently answer. Vernon would occasionally come in and his eyes would widen in surprise at the sight of you being in Mingyu’s office, and you two would exchange a few words before he leaves to his own office — the one right beside Mingyu’s.

At the third event of having to remain in Mingyu’s office to assist him, you had mustered up your courage ask a question you had been holding in ever since the ‘staying-in-the-office’ thing started.

“Mr. Kim, if you don’t mind, I have a question that is not… very relevant to the work I’m doing right now.”

Mingyu had looked up from his laptop, folding his arm across his desk, leaning forward. “Go ahead,” he said. “Is everything fine?”

You quickly nodded, clearing up any wrong assumptions that he might have. “Yes, of course. But I’d like to ask why Vernon… isn’t the one doing these? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that it’s a burden for me or anything. I’m more than willing to be able to assist you with these, but I was just curious since he is your secretary.”

“Ah,” Mingyu said, and seemed almost relieved that it wasn’t anything serious. “Vernon is busy with planning my schedules and stuff related to that. He has to…” Mingyu trailed off, tilting his head to a side in thought. “…call a lot of people to arrange meetings, to put it simply. You’re the one who is finishing your work the fastest, so I thought you’d be able to help me with mine.”

Your lips formed a shape of an ‘o’ and you dropped your head in embarrassment, a small smile playing on your lips; you felt flattered. “I’m glad to be able to do that, Mr. Kim.”

Mingyu smiled before turning back to his computer.

The events of you staying in Mingyu’s office definitely played a huge part in building your bond with Mingyu, though you never spoke much to him — he was the one doing most of the talking. He had confided in you about a surprising number of things, and you would listen as he rambles about his daily chores as a CEO, or sometimes even go into storytelling his personal life; you cherished the trust he had in you. Mingyu had complained that you were too reserved around him, but you had merely shaken your head and chuckled. You didn’t want to become too casual with him in fear of becoming discourteous or, even, growing feelings for him. He’s the CEO, you constantly reminded yourself.

Nevertheless, this day was a little different from the usual sayings you two traded.

The sky was a negative image of its daytime beauty, midnight blue with clouds swirling like pints of grey ink trickled into water. The soft, muffled moonlight poured into the fairly empty office building through the glass windows that you passed by.

You had a couple of paper files in your arms — four, if you remembered correctly — and you hugged them close to your chest to make sure nothing fell along your way to Mingyu’s office. There were past instances when a few loose sheets of paper managed to slip out of the files and had calmly drifted to the ground, and you were oblivious to it until one of your colleagues had picked it up and chased after you to return it. There wouldn’t be anyone to help you with that now, since most people had already gotten off work, except for a few of the higher-ups who were finishing up their work for the day.

Making your way into the empty lift, you pressed the button with the numbers ‘23’ on it. As the doors of the elevator closed, you rotated your neck clockwise to roll out the tightness in it before leaning onto the chilly metal walls of the lift. You began to notice the faint buzzing in your ear and the light dizziness that was making you feel unsteady on your feet. You felt unnaturally fuzzy too, both on the inside and outside, and you couldn’t help but rub your palms against your forearms, hoping that the friction would warm you down a little from the abnormal coldness you were feeling.

When you see the numbers ‘22’ appear in red on the display of the elevator, you immediately pushed yourself up from the wall, straightening your back.

The doors opened at the 23rd level, and you stepped out, walking down the twisted hallways, turning here and there. You had memorized the routes to Mingyu’s office already, after endless mistakes of entering the wrong office or just going in the wrong direction overall. It was funny to your colleagues, they had told you — your confused expression which transitioned to embarrassment was humorous to them.

As you arrived at the door of Mingyu’s office, you knocked on the door with your knuckles quietly; it was a habit for you to do everything quietly once the night came. It was also partly because you didn’t really have the strength in you to do anything forcefully — you were starting to feel limp, the energy that fueled you just a few hours ago starting to seep out of your body.

“Come in,” you heard Mingyu say from the other side of the door, and you immediately pushed the door handle down and pushed the door open as you entered.

“I have edited the documents you sent me, Mr. Kim,” you said. Mingyu looked up. He was halfway through flipping his paperwork, with a black-and-gold fountain pen held loosely in his hand, and he instantly put both of them down when he saw you.

You made your way over to his table, trying your best to walk in a straight line, but that only seemed to make you stumble a little more. But Mingyu doesn’t notice that — what he does notice is the way your eyes were beginning to droop languidly, and how your skin tone was matching that of an ivory carving.

You extended your arms with the files and handed them over to Mingyu. He smiles appreciatively, like he always does, and takes them from you, his hand brushing against yours — and that one moment of contact was enough to have his smile falter when he felt the lack of humane warmth in your hands, especially your fingers. He caught how you pulled your jacket tighter around your body once your arms were free of the files.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, restoring the beam on his face as his eyes traveled from your hands to your eyes. “Sorry you had to stay till so late to finish these up.”

You smiled, shaking your head slightly so as to not worsen the lightheadedness you were feeling. “No problem, Mr. Kim. It’s my job after all.”

Mingyu’s expression softens at your courteousness.

“I’ll take my leave now, if there’s nothing else,” you said, bowing before retreating to the door.

“Wait,” Mingyu suddenly said, and you stop, turning around.

“Yes?” you asked.

You thought you saw a frown flash on Mingyu’s features, but you weren’t sure.

“Are you alright?”

You were surprised that he asked you such a question.

“Y-yes, of course,” you said. That was a lie, but who were you to complain about your slight unwellness to a CEO? You just needed to make it home, and get some sleep.

Mingyu hesitated uncertainly, then nodded, dismissing you. “Okay then. Get home safe, Y/N.”

You smiled. “You too, Mr. Kim.”

With that, you left his office to return to yours. You were done with work for the day, you just needed to pack up and you could head on home.

After you had stepped out of Mingyu’s office, a worried look spreads itself across his face. He sits back down on his office chair and opens the file you gave to him, pulling out a random sheet of paper and scanning through it.

About halfway into the page, he spots a minor calculation error, and that only fed his troubled thoughts. You never made any mistakes, especially ones that are as simple or careless as this.

Just as you had closed down your laptop screen, three soft knocks were heard on your office door. You heard the click of the door being unlocked and pushed open, with Mingyu behind it.

“Mr. Kim,” you faltered, taken aback.

Mingyu smiled. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, and Mingyu steps in, closing the door behind him.

“Is there anything…” you asked, but he cuts you off, shaking his head.

“No, no,” he said, and the glower on his face becomes more apparent when he notices how beads of sweat were forming on your forehead, and how pale you were becoming. You couldn’t even stand still by yourself — you would sway extremely slightly when nothing was there to support you. But now, your hands were pressed onto your desk, your weight leaned onto it to hold you steady.

“Are you sick?” he asked, tilting his head and bending down a little to meet your eyes.

You chuckle un-spiritedly. “I’m alright,” you told him. “I think it’s just a cold.”

Mingyu abruptly reaches out, causing you to flinch at the sudden movement and move back. Your heel knocks onto the leg of your chair behind you and you staggered. Mingyu instinctively reaches out and grabs onto your wrist, pulling you back up before you fell flat on the back of your head. You ended up crashing into his chest, and you found yourself wanting to snuggle up to his body warmth — but you caught yourself before you did.

You instantly pulled yourself away, the tips of your ears turning red. “I-I’m so sorry.”

Mingyu shook his head again and reached out, this time almost cautiously. You intuitively moved away again once his hand barely came in contact with your skin on your neck — you were well aware of how sweaty you were.

Mingyu knitted his eyebrows together, his gaze almost firm. “Just stay still.”

You bit your lips and did so, your body tensing up when he pressed the back of his hand to your neck, then your forehead.

“What cold?” Mingyu uttered. “You’re running a fever.“

You shrugged, exhaling a hot breath. “I’ll just head home and get some rest. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Home? You’ll take two hours to get there by public transport,” Mingyu stated, and you chuckled.

“I’ll survive.”

“No, you won’t,” Mingyu insisted. He stands there, looking at you for a while, as if contemplating something.

“This won’t do. Stay at my place tonight.”

You snapped your head up so fast you were almost sure that you heard your neck crack. A wave of nausea washes over you, and the room seemed to spin faster for a moment.

“What? No!” you blurted, perhaps a little too harshly towards Mingyu. “I mean, I can make it home by myself. I’m not that unwell.”

Mingyu raised a dubious eyebrow. “In your state, you’ll faint before you even get on the bus or subway.”

You pouted stubbornly. “I won’t.”

“Why’re you so against it?” Mingyu questioned. “Am I really that much of a stranger to you? Even after half a year now?”

You gulped, lowering your head. “T-that’s not it, I just…

Mingyu grinned triumphantly, knowing that he had won the little push-and-pull game. He pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed a number.

“Hey, Vernon?” he spoke, and you were so tempted to shout into the phone for him to hang up.

“Get my car ready at the lobby. I’ll bring Y/N over to my place today. She’s sick, and the ride to her house would take too long. She shouldn’t be staying in a car or bus or subway for that long in her state,” Mingyu sighed, glancing over to you. You could hear Vernon’s muffled, undecipherable reply from the phone.

You mouthed an “it’s okay, really” to Mingyu, but he just shushed you, turning his attention back to the call.

“Yeah. I’ll drive, that’s fine,” Mingyu continued, pushing his free hand into his pocket. “Yep, that’ll be all. Thanks, Vernon.”

“Okay, let’s go to the lobby. Vernon’ll be there.”

You were still indecisive. You didn’t want to be a burden to Mr. Kim, though you greatly appreciated his gesture. You didn’t want to let yourself be any closer to him. You knew you were going to fall in love, and that’s including the fact that you were already starting to bear feelings for him. If all these continued, everything would just accelerate from here on, like the sharp down-curve of a rollercoaster.

You couldn’t let that happen, but at the same time, that wasn’t something you could control. Right?

You still ended up in his car anyway. He had practically threatened you — “I’m going to carry you if you can’t walk”, he had said. You didn’t even have any energy left to argue, and you felt like your knees were going to give out any moment, so you followed him to the lobby, with him standing as close to you as possible without actually touching you. Mingyu was afraid you’d fall or collapse or whatever — you weren’t exactly walking straight.

Vernon had driven Mingyu’s car from the carpark to the pick-up point outside the lobby, and the shock on his face when he saw you was almost funny. You would’ve laughed if you weren’t feeling that weak — a mere almost-soundless chuckle came from you.

“Woah, what’d you do to become this pale?” Vernon asked softly, his eyes wider than usual. “You look like a ghost!”

“I wonder too,” you responded, smiling feebly. Mingyu’s eyes met with Vernon’s, then looked over to you, whose back was facing him, before nodding towards the car. Vernon quickly nodded in understanding and opened the car door to the passenger seat, gesturing for you to get in.

“Thanks, Vernon,” you said kindly, before letting yourself plonk down onto the firm, comfortable seat. Mingyu gets in from the other side, sitting behind the steering wheel.

“No problem,” he responded. “Rest well tonight.”

You giggled, mouthing “I’ll try.”

Vernon smiled his wide smile, greeting Mingyu goodbye before shutting the door on your side.

“Go ahead and sleep,” Mingyu said, fiddling with the joystick between the both of you. “I’ll wake you up when we reach.”

You hummed. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

Mingyu smiles as he sees your eyes flutter close, your head leaning onto the window. He grabbed an unused blanket lying on the back seat — it wasn’t thick, but it was still something — and gently put it over you, making sure it was snug under your neck.

“You can call me Mingyu, you know.”

You shifted slightly and smacked your lips quietly, not responding.

You were already asleep, exhausted and, well, sick.

Sunlight shines past the translucent curtains like a ghoul’s grin, yet gives the shutters of the halo of golden rays. From the carousel of random ideas comes in some order — a subtle awareness of who you were under the flow of thoughts with their loose connections to your waking life. After a few moments, you begin to analyze them in a lazy way. The throbbing headache in your temples gradually made itself known. You felt eminently nauseous and liable to throw up at the slightest provocation.

The previous day’s events started to piece themselves together only now, and your eyes opened quickly as if you were awoken from a nightmare. You scanned your surroundings. Everything was unfamiliar, and you caught sight of the mini bucket of water sitting on the nightstand beside the bed, with a face towel dangling on its rim.

The room you were in was huge and especially wide, and there were lots of walking space around the bed you were on. It reminded you of the first time you saw the office building, just that this time it was cleaner and homier.

You slowly pushed yourself up to sitting position — your body wasn’t functioning like how it normally would. Every time you made a swift move, your head would start to spin as if you have totally lost your center of gravity. You were like a robot running low, really low, on battery — your actions were all sluggish and draggy.

You clamped your hand over your mouth as you felt bile rise up your throat. You kept swallowing and your throat kept clenching, but no matter what you did you could not stop the warm feeling rising up your esophagus.

“How was your sleep, Sleeping Beauty?“

You turned to the voice. Mingyu came into the room, donning a plain grey hoodie with black sweatpants, his hair down. It was the first time you were seeing him this casually-dressed, so you couldn’t help but smile slightly at how cute he looked.

“Pretty good,” you told him truthfully. You did sleep through the night, but there were occasional moments where you would wake up feeling dreadful. “The bed’s comfortable.”

Mingyu grins. “Of course.”

“You bluffed,” you suddenly spoke, changing the topic. “You said you’d wake me up when we reached.“

Mingyu shrugged nonchalantly. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I couldn’t bear to.“

You hummed, feeling blood rushing to your face as the image of Mingyu carrying you out of the car and to the room popped up in your head. But then again, he probably has tons of guards and helpers around, so why would he do that himself?

“Anyhow, drink this. It’ll help with the fever.” Mingyu said, extending the mug that he was holding to you. “Careful, it’s a little hot.”

You took the cup by its handle to prevent scalding yourself and brought it to your nose first, sniffing doubtfully at it. “What’s this?”

“Ginger tea,” Mingyu told you, a proud smug playing on his features. “I made it myself.”

You pulled a face at the name itself, and Mingyu laughs.

“It’s not that bad,” he reassures, sitting himself down on the side of the bed. You tried to ignore how the bed dipped down slightly when Mingyu sat down and brought the cup of liquid to your lips, taking a cautious sip. Your face immediately scrunches up at the weird aftertaste that you weren’t used to. It stung your throat a little, too.

“It tastes funny,” you said, sticking your tongue out as if the surrounding air could wash away the flavor in your mouth. “It tastes like…”

“Ginger?” Mingyu finishes for you, and you paused for a moment, recalling the tingling sensation on your tongue previously

“…Yeah.”

Mingyu bursts out laughing. “Of course it does, silly. What else would it taste like?”

You started to chuckle, now finding your statement simply nonsensical. You took another uncertain sip from the mug, and this time it really didn’t taste that bad.

“Thank you,” you muttered softly, and Mingyu smiles at your shyness, leaning his weight on his arm that was pressed down into the soft bed, making him naturally tilt closer to you. His gaze towards you was soft.  You placed the mug on the coaster that was on the nightstand to let it cool down a little.

Mingyu suddenly leans even more towards you, his arm going behind you, his face coming dangerously close to yours. You widened your eyes and your heart nearly stops beating. He was so near that you could see the pupils in his irises, and the brown electric-looking waves that made up his eye color.

Mingyu’s eyes glanced down at your lips for a moment before looking back up at your also-brown orbs. A playful smile forms on his lips and he chuckles at your reaction and flustered expression. His arm reaches for the pillow behind you and shifts it so that it’s sitting vertically upright, before he moves back to his original position.

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you had been holding and broke the intense — to you, at least — eye contact with him.

“I was fixing that,” Mingyu pointed out, smiling teasingly as he nodded towards the pillow behind you. “Lean back.”

You did so, pressing your back onto the soft and spongy pillow. You cleared your throat and was almost sure that you were no longer pale; you could feel the heat crawling up your neck.

Mingyu snickers. “What?”  

“What?” you echoed. “Nothing.”

“Your face is red.”

You pressed your palms to your cheeks as if that would drain the redness from it, and let your body roll to the side to face the other way, hiding your face.

“Not.”

“I’m the one who’s looking at you right now, Y/N,” Mingyu laughed. For once, you wished that the paleness would return to your face. That would be so much better than looking like a hot tomato.

“By the way,” Mingyu started, shifting himself such that he’s closer to you.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice muffled by the other pillow that you had pulled over your head. Mingyu stifles his laughter and pulls the pillow away from you, causing you to whine as he transfers it to his lap.

You momentarily forgot that you were sick as you sat upright, and you felt your head whirl. You quickly leaned back onto the pillow that Mingyu had shifted and rested your head backwards onto it, making sure that your actions didn’t seem too deliberate so as to prevent Mingyu from questioning.

“Why won’t you call me by my name?” he asked.

“H-huh?” you sputtered, taken aback. Mingyu raised an eyebrow, gesturing that you hear him right. “It’s just… You’re my CEO. It’d be rude to drop the formalities.”

Mingyu frowned, cocking his head to a side. “Why would it be? Vernon calls me Mingyu.”

“That’s different,” you told him, shaking your head. “Vernon has been with you for much longer.”

“But I gave him permission to do that,” Mingyu reasoned. “Now I’m giving you permission too, so it would be in no way rude. Besides, I think we’re past the stage of being just colleagues. We sit in the same office almost every day, and I’ve told you quite a decent amount of stories about myself. You’re the one being withdrawn. And just so you know, you’re in my place now. Are those enough valid reasons?”

You chuckled, nodding nonchalantly. “I guess.”

You ended up complying, but you bargained that you would only do so when no one was around. Mingyu was satisfied with that. For now, at least.

“Oh, I shouldn’t disturb you from sleeping,” Mingyu suddenly says, standing up from the bed. “The doctor said you needed plenty of rest.”

You frowned in confusion. “Doctor?”

Mingyu’s eyes widen slightly in realization. “Oh, right. I haven’t told you,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck as his other hand sat in the pocket of his sweatpants. “I got someone to come over to check on you yesterday night. I was worried it’d be something more serious. High fevers can be a symptom of serious illnesses too, you know.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I told you I’m fine. Everyone gets sick once in a while.”

Mingyu shrugged. “Drink a little more of that and get some sleep. I’ll wake you up for lunch,” he said, nodding towards the resting cup of ginger tea that was probably less hot now.

You raised a doubtful eyebrow at his familiar words that he had said before, causing him to laugh and wave his hands in defense. “Really! I promise.”

You snickered. “I was just teasing,” you said, taking the cup and drinking from it again, this time not having the need to sip.

Mingyu took the cup from you once you were done, and helped you to lie back down. Which was really unnecessarily sweet.

He pulled the fluffy blankets over you, smiling gently as he ruffled your hair. “Sweet dreams.”

You sank into the comfort of the bedsheets, closing your eyes, hearing Mingyu leave the room.

Sleep didn’t come as quick as it should for a sick person. You exhaled — the rollercoaster is already speeding its way down.

“Is she still asleep?” Mingyu asked one of the maids around the house, who was carrying a tray of a bowl of porridge, presumably to your room.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, bowing slightly so as to not topple the food over.

“Let me,” he said, taking the wooden tray from her hands as he dismissed her to continue with her other chores.

Mingyu made his way over to the room you were in and quietly opened the door with one hand while balancing the food tray in the other, trying to minimize the clicking sound it made when the handle got pressed down. He poked his head through the marginally ajar door, and smiled when he saw you still sound asleep, your chest rising and falling slowly as you inhaled and exhaled.

Mingyu entered and closed the door behind him, soundlessly walking over to the side of your bed. He set the tray down on the nightstand and sat down beside you, at the same spot where he was previously, as he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear, chuckling quietly to himself. He then playfully starts gently blowing onto your face until you grumbled, your eyes flickering open.

“Lunch’s ready,” he told you, resulting you in groaning and turning to face the other way again.

“Can’t you knock? It’s weird to have you staring me down the moment I open my eyes,” you whined in a hoarse morning voice (though it was already the afternoon), your mind drifting back to reality.

Mingyu laughed. “Sorry,” he said meekly, making you smile. “How’re you feeling?” He pressed a palm to your forehead again, and this time, you didn’t move away.

“Better, I guess,” you said, struggling slightly to sit up. “The headache is pretty much gone. It’s just the… nausea and dizziness.”

Mingyu nodded. “One of the kitchen helpers made chicken porridge. Have some, then take your medicine. The doctor prescribed some for your fever.”

You looked over to the bowl of porridge beside you which looked fairly plain, except for pieces of shredded chicken and broccoli in it. You were glad that it wasn’t a big bowl; you weren’t really having much of an appetite.

Mingyu stirs the porridge around the bowl for a while, occasionally lightly blowing into it to cool it down before taking it in his hands.

“Mingyu, I still have my arms,” you mused, already knowing what he was going to do. “I can feed myself—”

Mingyu frowns and shakes his head, turning his body along with the bowl away from you when you reached out for it. “No, you’ll probably drop it onto the bed or something.”

You squeezed your hands and gave in, knowing that you were indeed still limp and enervated.

“Here.” Mingyu brings the spoon that was half-full to your lips, and you carefully ate the porridge, wary that it may scald you. But it was no longer hot; Mingyu had already cooled it down before feeding it to you.

“Is it okay?” he checked, and you nodded indefinitely.

Mingyu smiles, filling the spoon again. “That’s good.”

“By the way,” you started as you swallowed the porridge.

“Hmm?” Mingyu hums, his focus constantly switching between you and the porridge.

You hesitated, then shook your head. “It’s nothing,” you said. You wanted to ask why he was doing so much for you, but it didn’t seem appropriate to ask from your own mouth, so you refrained from questioning.

Mingyu chuckled. “Okay then.”

You ended up finishing up the entire bowl of porridge while talking to Mingyu despite not having much craving for food — that simple bowl of porridge was that delicious.

Mingyu called in one of the housemaids after you emptied the bowl, who took the tray away. You thanked her, of course. Mingyu gave you your medication after that; a white-and-blue pill which you easily downed with water.

“Thanks a lot, really,” you told Mingyu, looking down at your hands.

“You’re welcome,” Mingyu responded, chuckling at your shyness again.

“And please, um,” you cleared your throat, avoiding his eyes once again. “Don’t do… that… again.”

Mingyu frowns in confusion for a moment as he recalled all his past actions, then grins when he realized what you were implying.

“Do what?” he asked cheekily, despite already knowing the answer.

“You know, that!” you exclaimed. “Earlier.. um, when you came in…”

“Ah, this?”

Mingyu swiftly closes the gap between the both of you, his face coming alarmingly close, even closer than it was before. You could feel his warm breath bouncing on your skin, but yours hitched. His nose brushed the tip of yours and you were almost sure that you felt his lips graze yours too.

“Mingyu, medication doesn’t cure this kind of dizziness,” you muttered softly, avoiding his gaze. He merely snickered.

Nothing proceeded further than that, fortunately. You didn’t think that your heart would have been able to handle anything more than that. You two ended up talking like how you would whenever you settled in his office every other day at work, except this time you were in Mingyu’s home. You made an extra effort to try to open yourself up more to Mingyu — it was only fair since he had been telling you a considerably large amount of his personal stories.

The chat was littered with smiles and occasional laughs or giggles, the physical closeness between the both of you greatly contributing to the sensitivity of the conversation as compared to when you two were bodily distanced in Mingyu’s office. Beneath the talk was the gentle gaze of the both of your eyes, the relaxed nature of your faces, the unspoken and quaint love that neither of you were aware of. Whatever you two talked about didn’t really matter; only that you were conversing, connected.

You ended up residing in Mingyu’s place for longer than planned, with Mingyu cajoling you to stay “just one more day” every day. You declined at first, but Mingyu jokingly used his position against you one day, saying that ‘you should listen to your CEO’. You couldn’t say no after that; you didn’t have any excuses to escape. Staying with Mingyu strengthened your bond by a whole ton, to the point where you were even questioning who Mingyu was to you.

Mingyu had made you stay home to recuperate for 2 days after you fell sick, saying something like “You haven’t fully recovered yet!” and “What if the fever comes back?”. He wanted you to be on sick leave for three days at first, but you had practically jumped into his car on the third day. You were much better, and staying at the penthouse alone wasn’t very entertaining.

The penthouse that Mingyu dwelled in was humongous for a just single person with helpers. It was majorly colored with blacks, whites and deep blues, the shades suiting Mingyu well. It was evident that the interior had been worked on by a professional designer, all its edges sleek and neat.

On the seventh day of your staying at Mingyu’s place, after work ended at its usual timing of 5pm or so, Mingyu dropped you at his house first.

“I’ve to go somewhere,” he told you gently like he always does, stopping the car outside his penthouse, a doorman opening the car door on your side. “There’s a shareholders’ party, and I can’t not go.”

You nodded in full understanding; Mingyu had been spending quite a lot of time with you the past few days, and you were starting to feel bad for taking up so much of his time. But he constantly indirectly reminded you that he enjoyed being with you, although you never spoke anything about your insecurity. That was something that you deeply appreciated.

“Sure,” you replied, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Have fun!”

Mingyu smiled. “I will. Get back safe.”

You chuckled. “I just have to walk in, Mingyu.”

He laughed sheepishly. “Still.”

You two waved goodbye and he drove off, and you walked into the penthouse, taking the lift up to ‘your’ room. Mingyu had told the helpers to buy clothes for you without your knowledge, since he knew full-well that you would have told him not to. The wardrobe in your bedroom was now partially (since it was pretty damn wide) filled with clothes suitable for both work and home. You didn’t have to travel back and forth between your workplace and your home, and it became a lot more convenient for you. You owed Mingyu so much, honestly.

You placed your laptop onto the bed and took a quick shower, changing into casual wear that was more comfortable. The last time you didn’t have clothes to change into yet, Mingyu lent you his, and the sleeves of his hoodie ended up flowing way past your fingertips — but he had rolled it up till it sat cushy at your wrists. That was just another one of the memories of Mingyu that would make you smile.

You sat down on your white bed, stretching your legs out and putting a cushion on your lap before settling the laptop above it. Mingyu had adviced you against placing the laptop directly onto your lap, saying something about it producing radiation which wasn’t good for your body.

You began working on your unfinished assignments after that. You had lagged behind from your assignments due to your absence from work during the two days, and Mingyu had actually designated part of the work to your other colleagues (mostly to Jihoon, the guy next-door to your office) because he was afraid you would overwork; you were indeed the type to go full-out to catch up on the tasks you were trailing behind in. After you found out that Jihoon had received part of your workload, you immediately took them from him again. You didn’t want others to be doing your work for you. Jihoon was over the moon and practically showered you with praises on how responsible you were, but really, it was just because he was ecstatic at the thought of having lesser work to do.

So, here you were now, typing away at your laptop to complete the work. You knew you wouldn’t be able to finish all of them today, but you would try. You had good focus.

Time began to dissolve into itself, as shapeless as the rain. You barely noticed that the sun had set, dusk taking over.

When you finally decided that it was time to peel your eyes away from the computer screen for a while and take a break, your arms reached upwards and you pointed your toes as you stretched before massaging your shoulders and the base of your neck.

Your eyes traveled over to antique but fancy clock hanging on the wall. 11.46 pm. You frowned, recalling the time when Mingyu had dropped you off — it was at around 5.35pm. Troubled thoughts hovered around your mind briefly, but you shook it off. Parties for people of high statuses usually lasts for a while, right?

You pushed the laptop off your lap, and it bounced gently on the bed as you stood up, stretching again, arching your back this time. You walked out of the room and one of the helpers walking by you immediately stops.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Y/N?” she asked, lowering her head. You quickly shook your head, waving your hands slightly in the air, a bit surprised that she was still here. Most of the housemaids and helpers would have left to their own dormitories by 10pm.

“No, Ma'am, it’s fine. I’m just about to get a glass of water,” you explained. “I can do that myself, don’t worry.”

She smiles and nods, bowing. “I’ll be leaving now, then. See you tomorrow, Miss Y/N,” she said before going her way.

You let out a breath — you’ve been getting this treatment ever since your second day here, but you could never get used to it.

You walked over to the open kitchen and grabbed a cup from the rack of utensils, smiling slightly to yourself when you remembered that this was the cup that Mingyu had used to make you ginger tea. You poured water from the glass jar into the cup and sipped from it while walking back to the room. The house was dimly-lit now — only the warm side-lights were turned on, the main lights were all turned off. It gave a soothing feeling.

You pushed the door close with your free hand, but you didn’t notice that it didn’t close completely; there was still a slight gap between the door and its frame.

You sat back down on the bed, slowly drinking the water as you scrolled through your phone.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door beeping drifted into your room, followed by the sound of it being clicked and pushed open.

You grinned and jumped out of the bed fervently, placing the cup onto the nightstand as you cheerily scurried over to the door of your room.

However, the overlapping noises of unsteady shuffling, groaning and sloppy smooches made you stop dead in your tracks, your hand which was resting on the door handle slowly tearing itself away from the metal.

Mingyu wasn’t alone.

You didn’t dare to move — heck, you didn’t even dare to breathe. You were frozen to the spot; you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as more sounds of deep, heavy breaths wafted into your room through that mere gap at the door. The hairs on your arms stand to attention as a militia of chills march down your spine. It couldn’t be.

Your own denial went against you as you heard an unmistakable female moan, followed by more groans with were unambiguously Mingyu’s.

Your breathing became uneven as you clenched your hands into a loose fist, your fingernails digging into your sweaty palms as tears started to pool in your eyes, your vision turning distorted.

You waited till you heard the both of them enter a room, the door clicking open and close — you didn’t know which room; there were so many, and you didn’t really care either — before you quietly and discreetly pulled open your room door. You clutched your cell in your hand and stuffed your laptop into your bag, letting out a shaky breath as you peered outside, making sure that there was indeed no one outside before you briskly walked to the lift situated at a corner which would directly lead to the lobby, jamming the ‘down’ button several times.

The lift arrived at your floor after a few seconds which seemed to take horribly long. You stepped in and closed the lift doors, biting in your lips hard as uncontrollable sobs took over. The desolation was consuming you at an incredibly fast pace. Your mind was becoming a disordered, icy wasteland. You hated yourself for believing that you’d have a chance with Mingyu. You hated yourself for sharing your vulnerabilities with him readily once he ‘took you in’. You hated that you let yourself love him.

When you reached the ground floor, you stuck your hands into your hoodie pocket, glad that you hadn’t worn anything thinner — it was cold out — and just ran into the night without a clue of where you were heading.

The next day, you went to work as per normal, but it wasn’t exactly normal either. You had stayed out all night. The world seemed monotonous, your energy leaving you like an ink stain on blotting paper. You went into the office in your casual wear early in the morning before anyone had started their shifts and headed straight to your own office, pulling your little emergency clothes from the paper box under your desk and heading to the washroom to get changed.

Before you started on your work, you realized that your thumb drive wasn’t in your bag, and that only meant that you had left it at Mingyu’s place. Whatever it is, you had the password to his house. You could just go over during his working hours and grab it. Your mind was too tired to think about anything more.

Even the penthouse helpers started talking about you after you left. they themselves noticed how the house seemed less vibrant, and how Mingyu had become cold. But you don’t know that.

The day carried on smoothly, with you just sitting there and typing away until 2pm in the afternoon, when only then you turned your phone on.

13 missed calls.

You could already guess who it was. You swiped the screen and 9 were from Mingyu, the other 4 from Vernon.

You inhaled deeply and locked your phone, placing it face down on the side of the table as you rubbed your eyes with the pads of your fingers before running them through your hair. The previous day’s events were still vivid in your mind, and tears pricked the back of your eyes the more you thought about it.

Vernon suddenly bursts into your office and you jumped, immediately looking away and blinking back the new tears.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, walking over to you. “Where were you last night? Mingyu said you weren’t —”

“Not now, Vernon,” you cut him off, turning around so that your back was facing him.

“Y/N…” he trailed off, and you could hear that he was right behind you.

“Will you please… leave the room?” you requested as politely as you could, your voice becoming choked up. “I want to be alone.”

“I can’t…” Vernon started, a deep frown forming on his features. “I mean, can you at least look at me first? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Physically. “I’m okay.”

Vernon goes quiet for a moment. “Mingyu says he’ll drive you back after work.”

“Tell him I’ll head back to my own house,” you replied, turning around now that you had swallowed back your tears. “I don’t need to stay at his place anymore.”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrows. “Did you two fight?”

“No, Vernon, we didn’t. Now will you please leave? I promise I’m fine.”

Vernon doesn’t believe you, of course. He wasn’t that dense.

“Hey,” he says softly, walking over to you and brushing your loose hair aside. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but please don’t cry. You look horrendous when you do.”

You chuckled, sniffing. “Yeah, I know.”

“Let me know if you need anything, alright?” Vernon coaxed, and you nodded gratefully.

“Thanks, Vernon.”

“Anytime,” he said, smiling. “Coffee break?”

You chuckled, but it didn’t have your usual optimism. “Sure. A quick one, though.”

“Are you sure you didn’t do anything to make her mad?” Vernon asked Mingyu, standing in his office. Formalities were completely out of the window now.

“No, I didn’t! She just disappeared when I came back!” Mingyu insisted.

Vernon raised an eyebrow, his hands crossed over his chest. Mingyu wavers, rolling his eyes.

“Okay, fine. I brought a girl back yesterday. Yoona. That’s all I can think of.”

“Y/N isn’t one to act like that just because she is aware of the presence of another female in the house, Mingyu,” Vernon stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

Mingyu grumbled and relented, annoyed at no one but himself. “I was drunk. I didn’t know that Yoona was going to be at the shareholders’ party.”

“You were drunk,” Vernon repeated, skeptical.

“Yes.”

“Is that an excuse?”

“Vernon!”

Vernon sighed, shaking his head as he let his hands fall to his side. “I don’t know how you’re going to solve this one.”

Mingyu grumbled again, louder this time as he buried his face in his hands.

You entered the penthouse as casually as possible, walking past the guards, internally praying that Mingyu hadn’t told them that ‘you were missing’.

Your prayers weren’t heard.

One of the guards who usually greets you immediately recognizes you. “Miss Y/N!” he exclaims, making you jump. “Mr. Kim was looking for you—”

“Yeah, I know,” you said. “I’ve… told him I’m coming here.” It’s okay to lie just this once, you told yourself. It wasn’t like you were going to do anything bad.

The guard frowns but nods, acknowledging your words and letting you in. You entered the lift calmly, but once the doors close you started spamming the number of the floor that you were supposed to go to.

When the doors opened, you hurriedly scampered out. When you walked past the kitchen, you noticed a cup sitting on the countertop. For some reason, your inquisitiveness made you nonchalantly walk over, peering into the almost empty cup. You easily recognized the orangey liquid, and you saw the pinkish-red lip stain on the rim of the cup.

Ginger tea.

He fucking made ginger tea for that girl.

Seeing that no one was around, you blinked and let a drop of tear free itself from your tired eyes as you walked into the room you used to stay in. You went straight to the nightstand where you thought the thumb drive would be, but the tabletop was completely empty except for the lamp on it.

You lifted the blankets of the made bed, peering under it as you ran your hands on the soft mattress to feel for any hard object on it which might be what you were looking for.

When you couldn’t find it, you quickly made the bed neat again, erasing traces that you were ever here. You had to leave, you couldn’t stay in here for so long.

You nearly screamed after you turned around.

Mingyu was standing there, his hands stuffed into his pockets, looking at you like an interrogator. Your hands immediately flew to your cheek to wipe off the tear streaks that you knew were there. You guessed that one of the guards had tipped him off that you were here.

You blatantly ignored him and attempted to walk right past him, but he doesn’t budge from the exit. Instead, he holds onto your arm and pulls you back.

You tug on your arm. “Let go.”

“Where have you been the whole night?” he asked tenaciously, and you couldn’t tell if it was worry or anger lacing his voice. “The guards said they saw you running out, and you didn’t come back at all. And you didn’t go home.”

Your ears propped up when you realized that Mingyu knew that you had stayed out the entire night.

“It doesn’t matter,” you asserted, brushing him off entirely. “I just came to find my thumbdrive. It’s not here, so let me go.”

Mingyu doesn’t release his grip on your arm, and pulls out the said device from his pocket.

“It’s with me, that’s why it’s not on the nightstand,” Mingyu murmured, sliding it back into his pocket when you tried to take it, making it clear that he had no intentions to let you go until you talked.

“Won’t you tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been ignoring my calls and everything,” Mingyu pressed, and you glared at him through glossy eyes. “Is it because of the girl I brought back yesterday?”

You immediately scoffed. “No, of course not, that’s absolutely fine. Who am I to complain? I’m just one of the people who work for you after all, right?” you said sarcastically. The venomous words coming from your own mouth was hurting yourself.

Mingyu’s expression hardens at your statement as he clenches his fist. He couldn’t accept that you said that, or that you even thought that way.

“I already told you, you’re the one who’s not taking it,” you said firmly. “I said nothing’s wrong. I said it doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter because you’re crying! You were missing for the whole night and it’s irritating the heck out of me because I never knew that you weren’t here till early morning! I couldn’t find you either, I couldn’t reach your phone, I couldn’t do anything. You could’ve been hurt, you could’ve gotten kidnapped, murdered, whatever! How do all these not matter!?” Mingyu blurted, raising his voice as he threw his hands in the air.

You two just stood there in silence as Mingyu breathed heavily, the both of you recovering from whatever just happened.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” Mingyu started again.

That wasn’t something you needed him to apologize for.

“We didn’t have sex, Y/N,” Mingyu said, and the topic made the dam behind your eyes break open again.

“Totally. I heard all those and I’m supposed to believe that you two didn’t get intimate,” you sneered, but even through your harsh words, you were crying.

“We did get intimate,” Mingyu admitted. “But we never did that. ”

You scoffed. “Right, sorry for being in the way.”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Mingyu exclaimed. “Stop over-evaluating my words, will you?”

“Oh, so I’m the one who isn’t understanding? Well, I’m sorry then!”

“You’re not listening!” he cried, his eyes turning red and mimicking a more subtle version of your eyes.

“Hell yes I am! You’re the one who isn’t providing a proper explanation!”

“I was drunk,” Mingyu said, almost as if that was a reasonable alibi for whatever happened. The recollection of Vernon telling him that it wasn’t an excuse appeared in his head, but the intense and angry atmosphere made him push that thought aside.

You didn’t know what to say any further. The frustration inside you was building. You wanted to shout, vent, throw a tantrum and beat your hands on the ground like a toddler. You wanted to scream at Mingyu for how he had given you false hope of love and blame him for everything and cast him out, but you didn’t want to say things that you didn’t mean or be hurtful. It’s just so easy to be cruel in that moment, and then the permanent damage would be done.

You knew he wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his. Nothing between the both of you were ever official, and that meant that you had absolutely no right to demand an apology or explanation from him. But it constantly triggered your emotions because you cared. You cared so much — more than you should have. But it was probably all delusional on your own part.

So you pushed past Mingyu with whatever strength you had, quickening your pace when he called you.

Once, twice.

He called you twice, then let you go.

The action of running out of the penthouse seemed all too familiar to you — this happened yesterday. But for some reason, this time it stung more.

The next few weeks were painfully awkward and negatively emotional. You and Mingyu passed each other a few times in the office building, but you would always lower your head and steer a bit further away from him as if he’d pounce on you if you accidentally got too close. In forced circumstances, you would still speak to him and greet him, so as to not make your colleagues gossip. The task of the delivery of the documents was passed over to Jihoon, who was luckily willing to do you that favor. You were trying to avoid Mingyu at all costs. He had called you once in a while, but the maximum number of calls per day was just one. He’d call once, you won’t pick up, and your phone wouldn’t ring for the rest of the day.  

There was that empty void in your heart, making you feel odd every other day, but you got by with it at work. However, at home, it was a different story — you would start crying in the middle of nowhere, and tear up before you sleep, since the night was the quietest time of the day when your unstoppable thoughts would relive themselves. Your mother grew concerned when she noticed how upset you were, but you only cried even harder when she questioned you about it, so she stopped herself from probing.

After a few days of crying, you went numb. No more tears; it was as if you had cried yourself dry.

Vernon kept checking in on your throughout the entire thing, constantly reminding you to let him know if you needed anything and if you needed to release your upsetness. But you would rather keep them to yourself, you didn’t want to put it in words and remind yourself of the heartache you felt.

One day, in the late afternoon, before you were about to pack and end work for the day, Vernon comes into your office.

“Hey, you done with the files?” he asked, and your eyes scanned through your computer screen.

“Kind of.”

Vernon grinned. “Great. Grab your stuff, and let’s go.”

You blinked in confusion, trying to recall if you had planned anything with Vernon for dinner. If your memory didn’t fail you, no, you hadn’t.

“Go where?”

Vernon smiled cheekily. “Just a drive. Come, quick!”

You laughed at his eagerness and quickly packed up, following him down to the lobby as you two entered his car.

“This is sudden,” you muttered as Vernon drove down the road. He pressed his lips into a line.

“You’ll never get angry at me, right?” he asked out of the blue, and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Why would I get angry at you?” you questioned, and crazy guesses of where Vernon was bringing you to starting running through your mind.

Vernon laughs nervously. “Nothing. You’ll see. But promise not to get mad.”

“How can I promise when I don’t even understand what’s going on?” you panned, laughing, but your laugh subsided the moment your memory jolted at the sight of the familiar roadway and the green signs that hung over them.

No way.

“Vernon…”

He made a sheepish sound, confirming your feared guesses.

“Vernon, stop the car, turn around, whatever. Stop driving this way,” you said as calmly as you could, although the desperation in your voice was evident.

“Y/N, just give him another chance,” he said almost pleadingly. You were getting more nervous as the car neared the penthouse.

“Vernon, I’m serious, stop the car.”

“He wants to apologize, Y/N. I’m not going to turn around. I don’t want to see you secretly tearing up by yourself every now and then even after weeks of that incident. This has to be solved sooner or later.”

You swallowed, surprised and unsure of how Vernon knew about you beating yourself up over the matter.

A secretary definitely has his detective-like traits.

“I don’t want to see him,” you said, looking out of the car window. “Not now. I’m not ready.”

“Then when will you be? Vernon said, turning the car into the drop-off porch of Mingyu’s place and stopping there.

"Vernon, I’m gonna—”

The door on your side was pulled open, and you had expected to see one of the doormen standing outside.

Nope. It was Mingyu.

Without saying anything, he extends a hand to you, his eyes soft, and you hesitate. A part of you still bore a grudge against him, but the other part was just screaming at you to let Mingyu make up for it.

You glanced over to Vernon for needed assurance, and he just nods. You bit down on your lip and placed your hand in Mingyu’s, almost cautiously. It made your insides feel weird, having your hand held securely but gently by Mingyu, who lightly helped you out of the car.

He shoots Vernon a thankful glance, before bringing you into the penthouse.

“Mingyu, what are you d—”

“You’ll see,” he replied, his face void of any expression. You were almost afraid that he was going to bring you upstairs just to bring up the past. You didn’t want that — you didn’t want to hear it. But Vernon wouldn’t have brought you here if it was for that. He said Mingyu wants to apologize.

When the lift took you two up to the level of where you had stayed, you widened your eyes in shock.

The table in front had been laid out with plates of food, candlelights in the middle of it, creating a lovely ambience.

“You— I—” you stuttered. Mingyu broke out of his monotonous character, chuckling.

“Surprise,” he said softly, placing a hand on your lower back and gently pushing you forward, at the same time bringing you out of your daze.

“I made these,” he said proudly, his voice echoing the tone of when he had boasted that he had made the ginger tea for you when you were sick. “With some help, of course. I nearly burned down the stove at first.”

You scoffed, laughing as your eyes teared up again. You’ve been tearing and crying too much recently. “That sounds like you.”

Mingyu chuckled, humming as he leads you to one of the two chairs at the table. You sat down, and he sighs before kneeling down beside you so that he wouldn’t be towering over you while speaking.

He took both of your small hands in his bigger ones, his thumb soothingly rubbing circles onto your skin.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he started. “I was stupid. I did something wrong and made it worse by shouting at you. I’m so sorry. I really shouldn’t have done that. I’ve never been good at keeping my emotions in check. No matter what I’m feeling, it always verbally comes out as anger. I’m sorry I even let it out on you.”

You grumbled, looking upwards to contain your tears. Your anger had already dissipated along with time. “Stop it, I’m gonna cry again.”

Mingyu chuckled but went on anyway. “I love you, Y/N. I realized that I never said that in words. I love you. So, so much, you have no idea.”

You looked down at him, and a teardrop flows down your cheek. “I think I do,” you told him, your hand holding onto his. “I love you too, Mingyu. I couldn’t take the fact that you had someone else. I’m pretty damn territorial.”

Mingyu laughed, his canines showing. “I don’t mind. It’s nice.” His canine smile — something you’ve missed so damn much.

Mingyu moved up abruptly, pressing his lips onto yours. You moved back slightly in surprise and unpreparedness, but Mingyu’s arm on your back pulled you closer, and you let your eyes fall close as you melted into the kiss. Your breaths mingled, his head angled slightly to the side as your lips moved in sync, locking both your minds into the present.

You two pulled away after a while, and you couldn’t look straight at him. However, you were all Mingyu wanted to look at. He loved every detail of you — the slight pinkness towards the inner part of your lips, the cute nose you had, the beautiful, sparkling eyes you possessed.

He wrapped you in a warm swaddle of his chest and arms and pulled you close, gently rubbing your arm as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Your stomach fluttered at the longed feeling of your body being pressed against his, and it soothed you. You sunk into his warmth, the smell of his usual cologne filling your senses and making you feel all so nostalgic.

Just that perfunctory gesture was enough to make you forget everything. The kiss wasn’t just a kiss, the hug wasn’t just a hug — it was like it had told you the deepest unspoken meanings of his apology and regret for hurting you. It was like a new beginning all over again, a promise of much more to come.

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu scenarios

[megmckinney]

Tuesday + Massage with Coco

Tuesday, Jan 5 - today. I’m all up to date :)

Woke up at 6 this morning. Which I can’t really complain about because Summer was actually up at 4:30am last night. Then 5:15. Then brought her in bed and got her to sleep until 6:30. Plus last night was the night that stupid cat was meowing and woke me up.

So 6am but no cat, no prior baby wake ups = success. Same breakfast as yesterday’s post.

This morning Summer and I were walking around the neighborhood. We met a Mexican lady who wanted to chat with Summer and touch her cheek. Then she wanted to show us where she works. She cleans a home right on our street that is owned by a lady in LA who rents her home out. Even though there were people from AZ staying there, the woman still wanted us to come in and see the place. Luckily I was kinda able to say sorry to the AZ family for intruding. But they were fine with having us walk through. So that was a sweet experience.

Actually, before this, Matt and I were sitting in the patio letting Summer play. We heard a man yelling Bolio and walking down the street. We have heard this same yelling before. Then we heard our neighbors in the complex yell back: Bolio? Si! Hoy! And apparently Bolio is a type of loaf of bread from Jalisco. Our neighbors gave us an entire roll to enjoy. Mexican culture is SO generous. The precious day, I couldn’t get Summer out of their room. They brought us shrimp tostadas, rice, and then shrimp that wasn’t spicy for Summer. I feel bad accepting their generosity but I know it’s their culture. Matt says yes to their offerings much easier than me.

It’s like that at the playground, too. The Mexican mother’s will want to pick up Summer and take her down the slide or push her on the swings. It’s fine with me but I feel bad that they are basically doing what I don’t even want to do myself. At Frente Al Punto on Sunday there was a mother playing with Summer, squeaking this squeaky toy that belonged to our friends with Summer, while her own son was using the iPad. I think it’s just because of her pale skin, blue eyes, red hair?! We really do get SO much attention. I don’t seem to. I wonder if they still find it beautiful on an adult, aka myself lol but Mexicans sure do love Summer. It’s so sweet.

So anyway, around 10 am Kristin shows up with Stella, Noralina, and Calvin. Calvin is Noralina’s 11 month old son. We walk around the neighborhood a little and end up at the owner of Cocobananas house. We go through her house to the backyard where she has turtles and a parrot aviary. This woman, Tracy, is an activist here for recycling and for rescuing the parrots and helping them live back in the wild. This specific type of parrot is not supposed to be domesticated so she rescues them. It was a very cool experience.

Chocobanana is a large restaurant right on the plaza. They are famous for their frozen banana dipped in chocolate or as a smoothie. We actually ate here three mornings in a row last week because they have a French toast that Matt has been craving. Plus the food comes out SO fast which is good for Summer lol

The afternoon was a little rough. I wanted to eat at Anchor and get The Farm Bowl that I had been craving since going there with Kristin & Noralina. Summer made it difficult. Wouldn’t stop crying. Basically I had to take her home and Matt got the food to go. I wanted to let her run & play in the plaza for a little but i didnt bring her shoes. The plaza is notorious for having broken glass because it’s were people/locals come to drink and hang out. Instead of going to a bar, it’s legal to drink in public, so people come to the plaza with their alcohol and have a nice time which usually results in broken glass. There are lots of birds, though, so it’s fun for Summer to chase them. I let her run for a little and then took her home so we could eat.

Matt took a nap, I spent time with Summer. They we walked to the beach. He played with Summer and I got a massage. Have I told you about my massage with Coco?!

I got three beach massages all for $20. My first and last massages were nice but my second massage was with Coco and it was the most glorious thing I have every experienced. I knew the massage was good because throughout, my body would tingle. I can’t even describe what she did but it was deep tissue, strong pressure, and different/intense moves. Coco is amazing. They use a peppermint oil on their hands and then have you breathe it in, while walking home, one of my arms was like numb from the oil. haha but I didn’t care. It was heaven.

[draconym]

How many pets do you have? And how/why did you get them?

I have 3 parrots and 1 snake! And I love talking about them, so buckle up.

I got Enyo the cockatiel in 2004 from a pet store because I was a lonely college student and I’d always, always wanted a bird. He was a handful (and still is), but I love him and I tell him he’s my favorite bird every day. He was a great emotional support to me during the hard times in my early twenties, and his huge personality won him (and me, by extension) a lot of friends in college. Some people didn’t know my name but just stopped by my room to play with Enyo. He likes going outside (on a leash) and yelling at every bird he sees.

Mai Tai the cockatiel came to us from a friend in 2016 who had to rehome her due to having a baby. Mai Tai and Enyo are both twelve, almost thirteen (as of spring 2017). Enyo and Mai Tai met when Mai Tai’s owner and I were in college together, and they had pretty frequent bird play dates. Enyo has always been in love with Mai Tai (as he is with every other cockatiel he meets, and some cockatiel-sized objects), although Mai Tai herself only has eyes for a very special toy bell, to which she has been faithful for about eight years.

Enyo and Mai Tai are still good buddies even if she doesn’t love him the way he loves her, and he gets on her nerves sometimes.

Ripley is a Congo African grey parrot who was born in June of 2009. I’d hoped to live with an African grey since I was a little kid and was obsessed with reading about Alex and the research surrounding him. With Ripley I’ve found that what Dr. Pepperberg insisted about Alex was very true: his smarts weren’t unusual, and are representative of African greys in general, maybe even most parrots.

When I graduated from college I had hoped to adopt a young grey from a rescue, but I didn’t have much luck finding any that were local. I did, however, find a lady with a breeding pair of African Greys who lives just a couple of miles away from me. I was able to meet Ripley as a young bird and watch him grow up before buying him from her in the fall of that year. I do want to stress that there are a lot of parrot rescues out there so if you have one near you, there are still many wonderful birds out there who need homes (especially considering their very long lives and the tendency of new bird owners to give up their pets once they realize what a huge commitment they really are).

Ripley likes television and video games a lot. My significant other and I have done some work to make bird-friendly video games for him, but as much time as we’ve spent on those and as much fun as we’ve all had, it’s still clear that old-fashioned chewable toys and social interaction are the most important things to Ripley.

Dig Dug the western hognose is about to turn three this summer. I got him in 2015, when he was about 6 months old, from a local reptile enthusiast who was downsizing her collection of snakes. I had been thinking about getting a snake for a few years, after having worked with a few of them at my nature center jobs. I wanted a hognose because they’re really unique (behaviorally and physically) and I love talking about them, in addition to their being a cute and laid-back species in general–traits which makes Dig Dug ideal to bring to my job as an educational ambassador. Snakes get a lot of bad press and so many of them have been killed due to human fear and ignorance, but like most hognoses, DD is kind of hard not to love when you meet him. He’s changed a lot of people’s minds about snakes.

BONUS SNEK: Mousetrap is a black rat snake that I rescued in 2016. I got a call from one of my housemates that someone at his work had found an almost-dead snake and was there a good way to mercy kill it? I drove over there to find a bunch of grown men terrified of a 2-foot, very skinny juvenile rat snake painfully stuck to a four-sided glue trap.

I took him home and poured some cooking oil on him, which freed him from the trap (I was going to do it back at the warehouse where he was found, but the guys there were terrified he would escape back into the warehouse and begged me not to). The snake was extremely hungry and dehydrated and was missing big patches of scales where they had been ripped out by the glue, but despite all this he was as tame as any captive-raised rat snake I’d met. He even voluntarily climbed up my arm and licked my face, and as gross as that sounds I found it really charming.

I’d intended to fatten him up and release him, but my housemate fell in love with him and he turned out to be a great educational animal at the nature center. My housemate might or might not take him with when he moves out next month, but either way I’ve had a nice time rehabbing, caring for, and living with this cool snake.

#petblr #pets #photos #dig dug #snake #snek #enyo #mai tai #ripley parrot #birds #birbs #Anonymous