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#You’ll probably see lots of posts about him over the course of the semester
gukyi · 3 years
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the art of the rom-com | jjk
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summary: FILM395, the art of the rom-com, was supposed to be an easy a with one of your favorite professors, but it’s not. it’s actually a sisyphean torture that comes in the form of fellow film student jeon jungkook, who has no problem responding to every one of your discussion posts about the consumerist ideals underlying every romance movie with his own paragraphs on the beauty of love like the hopeless romantic he is. and when the two of you find yourselves partnered up for your final project, which is to create a short film on rom-coms, jungkook decides to take it upon himself to show you what love is really like.
{enemies to lovers!au, college!au}
pairing: film major!jungkook x film major!reader (female) genre: fluff, comedy, slight angst, this is literally a rom-com in fic form word count: 33k warnings: college alcohol consumption, discussion board posts, emotionally constipated characters, film major shenanigans, blonde jungkook who’s also in a hip hop dance troupe, miscommunication, if you hate rom-coms do not read this fic
a/n: i am so so so excited to share this monster of a jungkook fic (tho let’s be real, 30k is pretty standard for me now ;-;) with you all! this is basically rom-com trash, but it’s my rom-com trash, and i hope you all enjoy!
on a sadder, less exciting note: after this fic i will be taking an extended writing hiatus until at least the beginning of may. my semester is picking up and i unfortunately just don’t currently have any upcoming fics planned for you guys. i hope you understand!! maybe i’ll do a couple of ask games here and there to see if anything piques my interest, but other than that please do not expect major works of writing for a while. love you all!
500 Days of Summer is a movie you all have probably seen before. That being said, I encourage you to respond to this discussion board from a film perspective as opposed to a viewer’s perspective. How did 500 Days of Summer alter the classic narrative of boy-meets-girl? Do you think it was a smart move, on the parts of Webb, Neustadter, and Weber, to do so? Why or why not?
Jeon Jungkook on February 12th at 9:53PM
I thought that the change in the boy-meets-girl narrative that had been popularized by rom-coms of the 1990s definitely contributed to his popularity and its attractiveness towards viewers in general. The film makes it clear that the story does not have a so-called happy ending, but despite that, it still brings into discussion the idea of love and soulmates and true connection. And that’s important, because despite the film’s not-so-happy ending, it makes it a point to emphasize that those things are real. That love is real. I thought it was an excellent move on the parts of the writers and director, because they both broke standards in terms of happy endings in rom-coms and they stayed true to the message at hand. 
Y/N Y/L/N on February 12th at 10:29PM
I have to disagree with Jungkook. It’s obvious the movie is not going to have a happy ending because Tom is so obsessed with the version of Summer he has created in his head that he doesn’t even see who the real girl is anymore. It doesn’t have a happy ending not because they weren’t soulmates, or because their love wasn’t right. They break up because what Tom wants and what Summer wants are fundamentally different, and Tom just can’t accept the fact that Summer doesn’t love him the way he wants her to. In a desperate quest to keep her, though, he manifests this version of her and replaces the actual Summer with it, ultimately destroying their relationship. How could viewers ever have faith that Tom would eventually get his happy ending if the only proof of his commitment to relationships they have is him manufacturing a different girl to fall in love with?
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When you walk into class, Jeon Jungkook is already there. 
He sits in the front row, the seat closest to the door in your puny little classroom, much too small for twenty-students to fit comfortably, let alone watch movies on the pull-down projector screen above the chalkboard. You’re convinced he’s chosen that seat just so he can grin at you whenever you walk in the room, always later than him because apparently, he has nothing better to do with his time than show up to class early and smirk at you when you arrive. 
As you shuffle past his seat towards your own—second row, middle of the room, centered with the lecturer’s podium—with your usual scowl drawn neatly across your face, Jungkook says, overly bright and cheery, “Good morning, Y/N.”
The sound of his voice alone is enough to make your nose scrunch up in further disgust. “Shut up,” you grumble back, stuffing yourself into your chair and pulling out your laptop. One row in front of you and five seats to the right, you see Jungkook chuckle. 
Glowering, you open up your Notes document for the class and try to avoid staring at Jungkook’s side profile, the way he’s slouching lazily in his seat, and what looks to be a lengthy paragraph on his computer screen, a task that proves to be particularly difficult because he happens to sit in the exact spot you have to look in order to see your professor enter the room. What the hell is he even writing, anyway?
He straightens up the moment she does, cheerful as always as she smiles at everyone. “Good morning, everyone.”
The lot of you respond with halfhearted smiles and waves. 
“I can just feel the enthusiasm radiating throughout the room,” she jokes, clenching her fists together in success. At least that gets a couple of you to laugh. “Which is great, because before we get to anything today, we’re gonna talk about the final project.”
You smile to yourself, immediately pulling up the copy of the syllabus you had downloaded to your desktop, scrolling right down to where she had outlined information about the final project in big, bolded letters. There are a lot of reasons you’ve taken this class, not the least of which is the fact that you have had Professor Pollack three times prior to this and she’s loved you in every class, but the final project was definitely one of the major selling points. 
Pollack pulls up a more detailed final project document on the projector as she steps out from behind the podium. “As you guys know, your final project is a thirty-to-forty minute short film involving rom-coms. You guys have a lot of freedom, it can be a rom-com, it could be a documentary about rom-coms, anything. It just needs to involve the topic of rom-coms somehow. I know a lot of you have actor friends who would be more than happy to have a star-crossed lovers fling or whatever. Go wild. Just keep it PG-13, because I can’t in good faith have nude bodies of your fellow college students on my screen.”
You snort to yourself. Makes you wonder how many times Pollack has seen sex scenes of college students on her screen before. Too many, probably. 
Unintentionally, your eyes drift over to Jungkook. He seems to be working on that hefty paragraph of his, typing something you assume is completely unrelated to the topic at hand and is further proof that Jungkook just doesn’t give a shit about anything involving this class. Whatever. You turn back to Pollack. 
“Good projects not only capture the essence of what a rom-com is, but also put their own twist on the story and bring into question the topics we discuss in class, like truthfulness, realistic portrayals of love, and viewer interpretation,” she continues, and with every word you feel heart beat faster in excitement. “I know you’re all excellent filmmakers. That’s why you’ve taken this class. But what I want you to do is get into the nitty-gritty of the makeup of a rom-com and distill it as much as possible. We’ll be watching them all in class during the last week. Yes, Celia?”
You all turn to look at Celia, who sits in the third row, second seat from the left. “This is a partner project, right?” 
Well. That’s the one downside. As much as you know that cooperation is an important life skill, you would much rather prefer to produce the entire movie yourself. But you love Pollack and you already know you’re on track to get a good grade in this class, so whatever. You’ll deal. 
As long as you can pick your teammate. 
“Yes,” Pollack affirms, “and with that excellent segue, I will now announce your partners.”
Shit. 
Pollack pulls out a folded piece of paper from her back pocket, like she had just come up with the arrangements on the morning train ride to campus, and begins reading. Slowly, as she ticks off names one by one, everyone begins to turn around, locking eyes with their partners and exchanging guess-it’s-us-two-huh? smiles. Everyone except—
“And lastly, Jungkook and Y/N.”
You freeze in place. You look up at your professor, eyes wide and shocked, because nobody knows better than her how much the two of you have been butting heads this entire semester. But when you meet her eyes and she smiles knowingly, shrugging her shoulders, you know you’re doomed. Hesitantly, almost like you’re scared to find out what happens when you do, you shift your gaze towards where Jungkook sits in the front right corner of the room. Only he’s not just sitting. He’s turned a full one hundred-and-eighty degrees just so he can smirk at you from across the room, a glint in his eye. 
Jungkook laughs at your cold-stone, shellshocked reaction. Like he knows how much you’ll hate this, and you know how much he’ll enjoy it. 
From here, you actually have a pretty good view of his laptop screen, brightness turned all the way up because he apparently doesn’t care who reads his screen. Or maybe he just likes showing off how much he writes so he can establish dominance over everyone else. Except you, of course. But when you look a little closer, you notice he’s got the class discussion board for the week up on his Chrome window, two paragraphs typed into the text box. 
Right above is your response to his comment. 
Is that what he was working on? His reply to your reply? Right now? He has the audacity to draft it right here, in front of you, where he knows you can see? He doesn’t even care that you’re blatantly staring at it. In fact, he actually seems to be relishing in it.
You’re so caught off guard by the contents of his computer screen that when you look back up at him on instinct, you catch a wink in your direction. 
Your fists tighten by your side. 
Class is rather uneventful after the whole partner fiasco, as Pollack transitions into your usual dose of a short lecture on the film and then a class discussion that goes absolutely nowhere because everyone is too concerned with the final project to care. Whatever you talk about, you will be hard pressed to know, because you spend the entire rest of the period scowling at the blank page of your Notes document as you try to formulate a way to convince Pollack to change your partner. Would she accept a dozen doughnuts as a bribe? A box is only ten dollars from Dunkin’.
When Pollack finally shuts her laptop screen and begins her weekly goodbye spiel, you are the first one out of the room. Hastily, you stuff your laptop into your bag, zip it up as best as you can (which means that the tops of your water bottle and umbrella are sticking out, but who cares), and shuffle out the room right as Pollack is bidding you all farewell, just so you don’t have to look at Jungkook’s stupid, smug little grin on the way out. 
Faintly, you remember Pollack saying something about getting your partner’s contact information so you can start working, but fuck that. Jungkook knows your name. He can find you. If you must spend the entire semester communicating through Instagram DMs, then so be it. You’ve communicated with men in worse ways. Like through LinkedIn.
There’s a small seating area half a flight down from where your puny little classroom is, a few tables and a bench that wraps around the wall, posters splayed out on the corkboard to the right, staples littering both the board and the floor it rests above. Nobody ever seems to use this, despite the innumerable posters advertising everything from dance troupe shows to financial literacy talks, which makes it the perfect place for you to brood and gather your thoughts. It’s also in the direct opposite direction of the exit. So that’s good.
Taking your anger out on your personal belongings (as opposed to that bitchass smirk on Jungkook’s face), you begin to shove your umbrella and water bottle into the pocket of your backpack, fighting to nestle them amongst your other worldly possessions, like your pencil case and what looks to be a small nest of receipts at the bottom of the back. No wonder it’s so clogged up down there. 
If anything gives you a sense of control, it’s cleaning. One by one, you pluck out the receipts from your bag, nose scrunching up as you try to remember every purchase you’ve made in the past three months. Plus, one of these receipts is from when you bought some dryer sheets from CVS, so that means the five inches of actual information are also accompanied by three feet of coupons that expired two weeks ago. Ugh, what a waste. 
“Don’t look so angry, you’ll have to get used to seeing this face a lot.”
You look up from where you’ve been inspecting an old receipt from a midnight McDonald’s trip to find Jungkook standing in front of you, backpack hanging loosely on his bomber jacket-clad shoulder and that same stupid grin written all over his same stupid face. 
“Can I help you?” You drawl. Great. Now Jungkook can add “saw all her receipts” to the list of embarrassing things he’s caught you doing. 
“Can I help you?” Jungkook fires back with a scoff, blonde hair bouncing as he jerks his head flippantly. “Looks like someone needs to take an Accounting class or something.”
“I’m just doing some spring cleaning,” you sneer. It’s February. “What do you want?”
“What, no ‘Hello, partner’? ‘So excited to be working with you this semester’? I’m hurt,” Jungkook says, placing a hand to his heart as he shakes his head disapprovingly. “I thought we had something good, Y/N. Isn’t that why Pollack paired us up?”
You’re pretty sure she just likes watching the world burn. 
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you chide, knowing that Jungkook already must get enough of a kick out of just seeing the annoyed look on your face. 
“Please, like I even need to. You think I don’t notice the way you stare at me during class? I know you must like what you see,” Jungkook flirts, just to be extra irritating. 
While he’s stroking his own ego, you tear off a piece of that CVS receipt, one of the expired coupons for Three Dollars Off Any Shampoo or Conditioner, and scribble your number on the back. The rest of the receipts you scoop up and dump in the trash can to your right before you zip up your backpack and hike it over your shoulder. 
“Here,” you say gruffly, shoving the paper against his chest as you head towards the stairwell. 
“How forward of you, Y/N, you know you could have just asked—”
Pausing right before you turn the corner and head out the door, you turn back to look at Jungkook, already exhausted from having to interact with him for five minutes. “And when you’re done jerking yourself off,” you say pointedly, “text me.”
You storm out the door.
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[February 13th, 1:24PM]
Unknown Number: guess who ;)
You: Wow I have NO idea You: Keanu Reeves?
Unknown Number: haha very funny Unknown Number: it’s jungkook
You: Damn shame You: You done jerking off yet
Maybe: Jungkook: what makes you think i’m not doing that right now ;)))
You: You don’t have the coordination to text me and masturbate at the same time You: What do you want
Jungkook: ouch, harsh Jungkook: can’t i just want to talk to my final project partner? :D
[February 13th, 2:17PM]
Jungkook: alright fine Jungkook: just wanna see when you wanna meet up
You: Guess I don’t have a choice do I
Jungkook: unless you wanna facetime
You: Is that an option?
Jungkook: how about friday at 3 Jungkook: in one of the greene gsrs
You: You think you can manage to reserve one of those?
Jungkook: watch me
[February 13th, 2:21PM]
Jungkook: [screenshot sent] Jungkook: done
You: Do you want a gold star for all that hard work you just did? All that manual labor? You: Fine. See you then.
Jungkook: miss you already <3
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Y/N Y/L/N on February 12th at 10:29PM
I have to disagree with Jungkook. It’s obvious the movie is not going to have a happy ending because Tom is so obsessed with the version of Summer he has created in his head that he doesn’t even see who the real girl is anymore. It doesn’t have a happy ending not because they weren’t soulmates, or because their love wasn’t right. They break up because what Tom wants and what Summer wants are fundamentally different, and Tom just can’t accept the fact that Summer doesn’t love him the way he wants her to. In a desperate quest to keep her, though, he manifests this version of her and replaces the actual Summer with it, ultimately destroying their relationship. How could viewers ever have faith that Tom would eventually get his happy ending if the only proof of his commitment to relationships they have is him manufacturing a different girl to fall in love with?
Jeon Jungkook on February 13th at 7:35PM.
You make a good point, Y/N, but I think you missed the whole point of the movie. It’s not about their breakup or the not-so-happy ending or even Tom’s problems. It’s about the journey they go on and what Tom learns in the process. If you watch the trailer then you’d go into the movie knowing they weren’t gonna last. The results of whatever Tom and Summer do to contribute to their eventual breakup should not come as a surprise to the viewer. The whole point of the movie is that they spent five hundred days together and Tom is now recounting those days to anyone who will watch. And you know who’s watching? People who want to hear a story. About love. And loss. And everything in between. Isn’t that the whole reason we watch romance movies anyway?
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Sometimes, you wonder if the garishness of Professor Pollack’s shoebox-sized office is the reason not very many students attend her office hours. The walls are lined with movie posters taken from a theater going out of business, the shelves stuffed to the brim with Disney World trinkets and old film memorabilia. She’s installed these thick red velvet curtains along her single window, making the whole room look like some sort of 1950s movie lair. 
In a way, you suppose it kind of is. 
You hear the taps of her Converse shoes as they come down the hallway and round the corner into the office.
“You know, Y/N, I was surprised to see you signed up for my office hours when I logged in this morning,” Pollack says as she enters the room, handing you the coffee in her right hand as she takes a sip out of the one from her left. Last year, the film department bought a Breville coffee maker with the leftover funds from a movie showing fundraiser and it is, in your humble opinion, the best investment the department has ever made.
“Why? I see you all the time,” you ask, eyebrows raised. You and Professor Pollack are not lacking in social connection. She’s written you a letter of recommendation and she knows your coffee order. 
“The very first time we ever spoke outside of class, you sat down at my Starbucks table while I was eating lunch just so you could introduce yourself and ask me about my opinion on the Mamma Mia remake,” she deadpans. “We don’t exactly speak through official forums.”
Well, she’s got you there. 
“I know…” you begin, trailing off awkwardly as you take a sip of your coffee. It’s burning hot and scalds your tongue a little, but it’s nice. It’s been cold recently. “But I just thought we could talk… privately.”
Pollack rolls her eyes as she reclines in her chair, back hitting the padding of the chair with a thud. “Goodness, I wonder what you’re here to talk to me about.”
“Okay, please pardon my French, but what the freak, Professor?” You say, because the words have been sitting hot on your tongue ever since you walked into your office and you didn’t think sending an email that looked like:
To: [email protected] From: y/[email protected] Subject: what the freak
Dear Professor Pollack,
What the freak?????????
Cheers, Y/N
would be very professional on your part. 
Pollack lets out this honk of a laugh, loud and sudden, shaking her head fondly. “Come on, Y/N. You must have known I would have partnered the two of you up.”
“I was hoping you’d let us choose?” You emphasize. 
“And miss out on what very well may be one of the best final projects of the class, produced by my two best students of the semester? Absolutely not,” she says, smiling knowingly at you. 
Even her sudden reveal that you happen to be one her best students this semester isn’t enough to soothe your worries and calm your anger. You’re honored, but you have bigger problems. Problems that start with ‘Jeon’ and end with ‘Jungkook’. 
Pollack looks at your beaten-down expression and leans forward, placing her coffee cup on the wooden desk in front of her. “Listen, Y/N. You’re an excellent student and one of the most talented filmmakers I’ve seen in a long time. Your discussion posts are detailed, well-written, and thought-provoking. I know that the two of you will make a great project.”
You scoff. “We can’t agree on a single thing.”
“Sometimes that happens in life, and you just have to deal with it,” Pollack says sagely. 
“So I can’t change partners?”
“Not unless you’d like to fail the final,” Pollack comments, shrugging. How rude of her to say such a thing, not taking the option to change partners off the table entirely but making it so that if you do, you’ll pretty much be shooting yourself in the foot. Or worse. 
You narrow your eyes at her. “That’s low.”
“That’s life,” she corrects. 
“Ugh.” You get up out of your seat, taking angry sips of your coffee as you desperately try to think of another way to get out of it. Are doughnuts still an option?
“I have full faith that the both of you will come up with an excellent project,” Pollack says like it’s some sort of consolation as she walks you to the door to her office. Yeah, right. You and Jungkook spend your free time making snide responses to each other’s discussion posts like it’s nobody’s business. You’re probably the only two people at your entire university that care enough to make replies to each other’s replies. Like Tinder from hell. “You shouldn’t be worried, Y/N.”
“I’m not worried,” you say, completely worried. “I just—I don’t know how Jungkook and I will get along.”
Pollack grins to herself. Does she know something you don’t? Is she up to something? She looks at you as you linger in the doorway, feeling utterly helpless after a meeting that accomplished absolutely nothing, and she smiles. 
“You’ll find a way.” 
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Reserving a group study room in the Greene Library and Collection should not be some gymnastics act that involves a warm-up, practice, a routine, and song and dance. In theory, all you have to do is log onto the library’s homepage, navigate to the reservations tab, enter your name and ID number, pick a date and time, and profit. 
Of course, the demand for the study rooms does tend to outweigh the supply. There are over ten thousand students at your university. And only twenty rooms. 
And still, you have the unfortunate luck of being stuck in one of them for an hour and a half with none other than Jeon Jungkook. 
You see him coming into the library at 3PM sharp through the opposite entrance, a little surprised he didn’t show up ten minutes early like he does in class, just so he would have an excuse to complain about having to wait for you. Feeling a little threatened, you pick up the pace so that you can meet his lengthy stride, keeping an eye on his direction so you know which room he’s aiming for.
You arrive at Greene GSR #18 at the exact same time.
“So nice to see you,” Jungkook says, too cheerful, as you reach out to open the door. 
“Mmm,” you mumble in response as you enter the room, flinging your backpack onto the floor by your chair with a thud as you take a seat. The faster you start, the faster you can get this over with.
Jungkook, not at all outwardly discouraged by your clear disdain for him, rallies on happily. “So, what were you thinking for the project?” But he doesn’t even let you open your mouth to answer before he says, “Oh, wait, let me guess: a social commentary on the consumerist ideals that underline every modern movie and encourage the pursuit of an empty dream by abandoning concrete career and personal goals in favor of romantic fulfillment.”
You scowl at him, even though that’s exactly what you were thinking of doing. You’re almost positive Pollack’s had enough of seeing college students try to engineer the craziest fake dating scenarios they can imagine just for a class project. Why not do something outside of the box? 
“Well, then what do you want to do?” You challenge, already bristling. Like Jungkook has a better idea. 
“Maybe something that doesn’t scream ‘killjoy’ as much as you do,” Jungkook retorts easily. He opens his mouth to spit out something else but then rolls his eyes and shrugs, shaking his head. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have even asked.”
“Don’t pin this on me,” you immediately rebuke, pointing at him. “You’re the one who wants to make some sort of generic rom-com for our final project. Besides, I’m pretty sure every idea you even think of will have been done already.”
“Just because something is cliche doesn’t make it bad,” Jungkook says. “I swear, I don’t think you understand what the word cliche even means. A cliche thing, by default, is something that lots of people like. Therefore, it is largely well-received by the general public.”
“Oh, then that must mean that all rom-coms are deserving of a People’s Choice Award then, right?”
Jungkook frowns, getting exasperated. You aren’t much farther off. “I don’t know why you’re being so—so resistant! You know that romantic comedies are supposed to be fun, right?” 
“They’re not that fun to me,” you comment snidely. 
“That’s because you’re a stick in the mud who takes everything way too seriously,” Jungkook replies like it’s some sort of known fact. “Have you ever even been in a relationship?”
“That’s none of your business,” you tell him firmly. Who does he think he is, going around asking that sort of thing? Especially to you! Like you could care any less about what Jungkook thinks of your love life. Intrusive, much? “Besides, you asking that is exactly my point. Not everything has to be about finding love and searching for your soulmate or whatever bullshit like that. Some people don’t really care that much.”
“You act like wanting to find love and wanting to be successful are mutually exclusive,” Jungkook points out. “You don’t have to abandon all of your life goals just to find love, you know. It doesn’t have to be the most important thing in your life for you to even care about it a little. It’s natural for people to want love.”
“Then I guess I’m just a robot.”
“You sure are acting like one,” Jungkook comments easily. “What, are you about to ask me to pick out all of the pictures with traffic lights?”
“I’m allowed to have my own views on love, just like you,” you say. Isn’t that the whole point of your discussion boards? A forum where you can discuss these sorts of things through an academic lens? A barrier that keeps the two of you from going at each other’s throats when you’re engaging in the class material? It doesn’t take a genius, or even half of one, to know that you and Jungkook can’t seem to agree on anything in your FILM395 class. 
Jungkook scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘your own views on love’? As far as I’m aware, your view on love is that you don’t have one! What do you even think love really is?”
You frown at him. “Does it matter?”
“Yes,” Jungkook says like it’s obvious. “This project is about filming a short romantic comedy, about people falling in love with each other. How do you expect me to do that if we don’t reach a mutual agreement on what love is?”
You scoff. “There is no way in hell I am going to agree with you on anything concerning love.” Jeon Jungkook still thinks love is all rainbows and sunshine. Cries at the end of Love, Actually even though he’s seen it five times already. Believes in soulmates. Believes there are people out there that were built for each other. He flutters from one person to the next like a butterfly, even though he’s more like a moth drawn to any open flame within a five-mile radius. He’s convinced he’ll find his true love here, in college, just like his parents found each other. 
Yeah, right.
“Then what are we supposed to do, huh?” He says with an eyebrow raised. “We have a month to make a movie that’s fifty percent of our grade.”
“The social commentary is still on the table,” you point out. Sure, it’s not at all a romantic comedy, but it’s about them, which Pollack said was totally fine. Besides, she has been teaching you the entire semester, hasn’t she? She should know by now not to expect some cushy lovey-dovey story about two people who were destined to be with each other and can overcome all obstacles with their love. 
Deep down, a part of you wonders if that’s why she paired you up with Jungkook. If she’s had enough of the sappy love stories that Jungkook probably wanted to do, didn’t want to see another cynical commentary on capitalism in Hollywood.
“Wow, what a thrilling idea,” Jungkook deadpans. “Please, tell me more.” His voice is lifeless. 
“Oh, shut up. It’s not like your idea would be any better. Who would we even get to star in a rom-com we filmed? It’s not like the two of us could do it.”
You regret the words the instant they come out of your mouth. In horror, you watch as they sink into Jungkook’s brain, etching themselves into his mind as a lightbulb turns on, a bright idea popping into his thoughts. 
He opens his mouth, but you get there first. “No. Whatever you’re thinking, absolutely not. I am not starring in a rom-com with you.”
That is something you can say with one-hundred percent confidence. Something that you know will never change. 
“Just hear me out,” Jungkook pleads, looking a little desperate as he wrings his hands together, aching to spill the bubbling plan that’s been stewing in his head. 
You narrow your eyes in suspicion but lean back into your chair, a silent signal for him to continue. It’s not as if you have any better idea.s 
“Okay. It’s not a rom-com. It’s a mockumentary,” he says, something that (and you can’t believe you’re saying this) actually piques your interest. Moreso than anything else he’s ever said to you. “You think love is totally manufactured, right? That Hollywood creates the illusion of it to sell to people paying twenty dollars for a movie ticket?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s do that. Let’s prove it’s manufactured.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” It’s not like you can walk into a factory and ask them to make the “love” emotion for you. 
“We’ll be the stars.”
He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like it’s your best idea by a long shot, the home run of all home runs, your golden ticket to an A.
You scrunch up your nose, hesitant. “Wait, I don’t know—”
“It’s perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, eyes wide with excitement. “Think about it. It’ll be a mockumentary of a stereotypical rom-com. Except it won’t be this big Hollywood production, it’ll be real life. And it won’t be between two paid actors with years of experience under their belt, it’ll be us.” His eyes are practically bulging out of his head, big brown eyes glinting with excitement.
“So what are we gonna do? Act out our own rom-com in an attempt to see if either one of us will fall in love with the other?” You say, an eyebrow raised. 
Jungkook shakes his head. “Not necessarily. It’s a mockumentary, right? So it’s grounded in real life even if it is based upon the stereotypical boy-meets-girl rom-com. It won’t be super scripted or anything. Think of it more like… a chronicle.”
You scoff. “Of what?”
“Of us,” Jungkook says easily. “Of the time we have to spend together to film this damn project anyway. I say that rom-coms are emblematic of the natural human desire for love, and that deep down love is the thing that makes us happy. You say that rom-coms are consumerist propaganda, or whatever it is you think they are—”
“They are, and you can’t change my mind about that,” you interrupt, just for clarity. Can’t have Jungkook thinking he’s going to somehow convince you otherwise.
“—so, with this project, let’s see which one of us is right. If the time we have to spend together, making this mockumentary rom-com, will really change how we feel about each other, or if it won’t.”
How you feel about each other? You almost laugh when Jungkook says it out loud. There’s no room for questioning in your mind when it comes to how you two feel about each other. Two desperate-to-please students with opposite views on the entire structure of a class and three years of experience arguing your points in essays under your belts. 
Jungkook believes in destiny, right? Then he must know that the two of you are destined to never get along.
“You should be a car salesman,” you joke. Jungkook’s certainly excellent at pitches.
“So, you in?”
You narrow your eyes, still a little wary of whatever it is Jungkook’s putting down. But it’s not like you have any better ideas. And the sooner you agree on something, the sooner you can get this goddamn project over with and never have to sit in class with Jeon Jungkook ever again. 
“Only because this’ll finally prove to you that not everything can be solved by finding love,” you say. It’s about as good of a ‘yes’ as he’s going to get out of you. 
Jungkook grins, mischievous as always. There’s certainly something else he’s plotting, you just aren’t sure what. Maybe he’s in cahoots with Pollack. “Or,” he begins, lips curling upwards, “you’ll just fall in love with me.”
You scoff. “Yeah, right.”
“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” He holds out his hand, palm facing up as he waits for your response, that devilish glint that you hate twinkling in his eyes. 
As if you’re going to fall in love with Jungkook. For this stupid project? No way. Just because it’s a filmmaking project doesn’t make it any more bearable than your other assignments. It’s a partner project. They are, by their very nature, excruciating. You’ll be surprised if you end this project and you aren’t even more irritated with Jungkook. Does he really think you’ll actually develop some sort of affection for him?
You take his hand on your own, palm pressed against his, and you eye him carefully. Just because Jungkook’s got something up his sleeve doesn’t mean you don’t. Finally, finally, Jungkook will see why love is stupid and manufactured and fake. Why it doesn’t bring people together but instead tears them apart. 
Maybe then he’ll leave you and your discussion posts in peace.
You smile up at him. 
“I guess we will.”
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When Ruby Rhodes is not six feet deep in The Princeton Review’s MCAT test prep book, she can usually be found at the small bakery five blocks west and two blocks north of your little campus, a family-owned place passed down through three generations. It’s her favorite place, and yours, too, because the coffee is delicious and the pastries are even better. 
Plus, hardly anyone from your school ever comes here, which means the wifi speed is eons better than the Starbucks inside the main food court. 
She’s halfway through a tiramisu and a rerun of The Bachelor from two seasons ago when you sit down across from her. 
“Any good?” You ask, pulling out your laptop and squeezing it onto the tiny marble table in between the two of you. 
“The food or the show?” Ruby asks over a mouthful of cake. 
“Either.” 
Ruby swallows down the piece sitting on her tongue before responding. “The tiramisu is delicious, and The Bachelor is eh. I’ve seen this episode three times already.”
“Then why are you watching it again?” You ask, laughing. Does Ruby think something different is going to happen?
“Because we’re in between weeks right now and honestly, The Bachelor is kind of dry this season,” Ruby says with a frown. 
“You’ve got some tiramisu on your cheek,” you tell her, pointing to the left side of her face where the bright mascarpone cream sticks out like a sore thumb against her dark skin. 
“It’s just so yummy, I can’t help but stick my whole face in it,” Ruby jokes as she wipes her face with the napkin on her lap. The Bachelor rerun plays on in the background, and you can hear the gasps of the women through Ruby’s discarded headphones.��
You roll your eyes. “Why do you even watch that show still? You know it’s all crap.”
“Just because you think it’s crap doesn’t mean I do,” Ruby insists, playing out an argument the two of you have had plenty of times over the course of your friendship. “Watching it makes me happy. So I do it.”
“But it’s all fake,” you say, frowning in disapproval. “The couples don’t even stay together in the end anyway.”
“It’s a totally pre-constructed show, but it’s not fake in the moment. And I don’t expect the final couple to stay together.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Believe me, I’ve seen enough Bachelor seasons to know those odds. I just like watching the ride. It’s cute.”
“You say that about everything.”
“That’s because everything is cute,” Ruby says pointedly. “I like seeing the good in people.”
Ruby’s always been the exact opposite of you in terms of worldviews. The embodiment of a real-life fairy. She puts butterfly clips in her hair and buys herself bouquets of daisies and lilies. She sits in cafes with her headphones in and sketches the people she sees outside the window. She’s studying to be a doctor so she can spend the rest of her life helping others. 
And you? 
Well, the Oscars have always been a bit of a long shot. 
The curiosity eating at you, you pose a question to her. “Hypothetically, if there were to exist a mockumentary on rom-coms and love, would you watch it?”
Ruby pauses for a second as she furrows her brows. Then she shrugs and says, “Only if the two leads fell in love at the end. Why?”
“No reason,” you say, looking away. 
There’s no fooling Ruby and her eagle eyes. 
“What is it?” She asks, a grin playing at her lips as she looks at you. “Come on, you don’t just ask me shit like that without a reason.”
“It’s for a final project,” you explain succinctly. No need to go into details. 
“You’re making a rom-com for a final project?” Ruby sounds about as skeptical as you did when you spoke to Jungkook. 
“It’s a mockumentary about rom-coms.”
“But… it’s a rom-com, right? Like, you’re going to be making a rom-com? Where people fall in love?”
Hopefully not. 
“Sort of?”
Ruby squints her eyes, trying to process all the information. You’re not surprised that she has to take a moment to think—you are certainly the last person on earth to ever admit to filming a rom-com. But, as you’ve stated, it’s not a rom-com. It’s a mockumentary about them. That distinction is vital.
“Wait, is this for that class with Pollack?” Ruby asks. “I remember you telling me you were taking it. You said this was a partner project, though, right? So who are you working with?”
Curse Ruby and her knack for remembering things. She’ll make a great doctor, that’s for sure, but right now you wish she would just forget things like everybody else. 
You sigh. “Jungkook.”
Ruby doesn’t need to think twice about who that is. “Wait, seriously? You’re working with him? Isn’t he the guy that responds to all your discussion posts?”
“Yes,” you say, rubbing your temples with your fingertips. You don’t even like thinking about him, let alone saying his name. The fact that he has to occupy any part of your brain at all gives you a headache.
“Damn, that sucks,” Ruby says, not feeling very sorry for you at all. “So you’re filming a rom-com with him?”
“It’s a mockumentary,” you specify, feeling yourself getting irritated. “It is fake.”
“Just like my shows, huh?” Ruby muses to herself, too analytical for her own good. 
“Listen, you don’t need to fall in love to make a mockumentary about it,” you say, refusing to consider any sort of alternative. 
“Don’t you?”
You sneer. “Just shut up and eat your tiramisu.”
Ruby lets out a laugh at that, this wonderful mix between a wheeze and a honk that makes you smile every time you hear it, even if it’s at your own expense. Ruby decides she’s had enough of mentally torturing you with the thought of feeling anything but extreme distaste towards Jungkook and goes back to her show, letting you brood in peace. 
You don’t need to fall in love to make a film about it. Just like you don’t need to be a masterchef to film Gordon Ramsey screaming at someone who undercooked chicken. You’re a filmmaker. You can make a film out of anything. Including love. Even if it is with someone like Jungkook. 
Can’t you?
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Jeon Jungkook may be a disillusioned college student in love with the idea of love itself, but at least he’s not too shabby of a filmmaker. 
Funnily enough, it actually sort of surprises you that you’ve never encountered each other before. Especially considering you’re in the same major program at your school, a program that only accepts about fifty students per year at most. You suppose that in whatever general program classes you had to take in freshman and sophomore year you just never crossed paths. Plus, he’s a filmmaking concentration and you’re doing screenwriting, so it’s very possible that you would have just never spoken had the two of you not registered for the same semester of FILM395.
Huh. Imagine that. A life without him. 
Sort of makes you wish you had put this class off for one more semester. 
As the two of you kickstart your project, you both immediately agree that you need a third person’s help. You and Jungkook can do plenty, but you are only two people. And there’s nothing in the final project guidelines that says you can’t enlist other people to partake in the production. But you don’t need help with the filming and editing. You need help with the interviews. 
“Is this bedsheet good enough?” Kim Taehyung, a senior in the film program, asks as he’s Command-stripping a queen-sized black bedsheet to an empty wall in the living room of his tiny one-bedroom apartment. 
“As long as it fits into the frame,” Jungkook responds from where he’s standing behind the camera, set up on a tripod to capture a specific angle. “You’re not going to be in the shot anyway. You’ll just be asking the questions.”
“Good, because I look really ugly right now,” Taehyung says with a grin. You roll your eyes. Taehyung must know he always looks good. Even you can’t deny him of that. 
“This is ridiculous,” you say, seated on the singular couch in his apartment. You’re leaning on your elbow as you watch Taehyung fiddle with the bedsheet and Jungkook futz with the camera, the two of them repositioning themselves over and over again until everything’s perfect. “What are you even gonna ask us?”
“I came up with some… preliminary questions,” Taehyung says suggestively. “But I haven’t told either of you what they are so that your reactions can be more genuine.”
“Great,” you deadpan. 
“Wow, someone’s excited,” Jungkook comments snidely. 
“I know we agreed on periodic interviews for the sake of the mockumentary but I don’t know why we have to be so… so serious about them,” you say with a frown. 
“We have to promise to be honest with what we say, alright? Like, actually honest. This sets a guideline for the rest of our relationship,” Jungkook says like it’s no big deal. Like the foundation of your relationship isn’t the fact that the two of you have been engaged in discussion-board war ever since the semester began. 
“Our ‘relationship’?” You say with a scoff. 
“Do you promise?” Jungkook says. 
You roll your eyes. “Yes, I promise.” Whatever. “What do you even think is going to happen between us in the next few weeks?”
Jungkook smirks. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”
You don’t like the sound of that. 
Over the next ten minutes, Taehyung gets the sheet attached to his wall and pulls over two stools from his kitchen counters, old-timey wooden ones he got from a thrift store for five dollars a pop, one for him and one for the poor soul who has to be interviewed. You’ve agreed to do them separately but Taehyung’s apartment is only so big and you are only three people, which means that whoever isn’t being interviewed still has to be behind the camera, listening to the other person. 
Makes you sort of nervous about whatever’s stewing up inside Jungkook’s mind. Wonder what the hell it is he’s plotting up there. 
Once everything is settled, Taehyung looks at the two of you as he asks who’s going first. 
You turn to Jungkook, who’s already grinning. “Ladies first.”
For someone who has spent their whole life watching and making movies, being in front of the camera feels weirdly uncomfortable to you. You’re so used to being behind it instead, directing others as they move around the frame, telling them how to feel and how to act and what to say, that having the spotlight shone on you is like picking through your thoughts with a fine-toothed comb. 
You adjust awkwardly in the bar stool seat as Jungkook stands behind the camera, twisting the lens until he gives you the thumbs-up. Quite frankly, it doesn’t make you feel any better. 
“You ready?” Taehyung asks as he takes a seat opposite you, just out of frame. 
“Well, we’ve gotta start somewhere, right?”
“That’s the spirit. Alright, Jungkook, start whenever you’re good.”
“Okay,” Jungkook chirps up. “Three, two, one—” He points to the both of you. 
“So, Y/N,” Taehyung begins, his voice suddenly much clearer. He sounds sort of like a news anchor. It’s oddly fitting. “Are you excited to begin the filming for this?”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You muse. 
“That didn’t answer my question,” Taehyung points out. Good thing the camera can’t see the way his eyebrows raise. 
“I suppose that there are worse things I could be doing,” you reason, which is about as good of an answer as Taehyung’s going to get. What was he expecting you to say? That you were thrilled to be filming this not-a-rom-com with your class nemesis? That you couldn’t wait to see what would happen?
“Loving the enthusiasm,” Taehyung jokes. You wonder what your classmates will think when they watch this back, hearing this unidentified deep male voice ask you and Jungkook questions about your relationship. “Let me ask you this: what’s your current relationship with Jungkook?”
“Uh…” you begin, nervous. Behind the camera, Jungkook has that same stupid, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. You sneer. “It’s… it’s professional.”
“Can you explain what you mean by that?” 
“I mean we’re classmates. That’s the relationship.”
“That’s it?” You can hear the skepticism in Taehyung’s voice, almost like he’s egging you on to say something more. 
“We’ve had some personal disagreements on topics discussed in class. But yes, we’re just classmates,” you elaborate slightly. It’s not as if anyone needs reminding of that, anyway. They all see your discussion board posts. 
“And how do you expect that relationship to change over the course of this project?”
“I don’t think it’ll change at all.” It’s the easiest answer so far. Requires no energy nor brain power for you to think about it. 
Taehyung nods his head in intrigue. “And why’s that?”
“Because this is a project for a class, not a life lesson.”
“Who says it can’t be both?”
You frown. “Whose side are you on?”
Five feet away, Jungkook laughs. 
Taehyung chuckles. “Alright, moving on. What do you expect from Jungkook over the next few weeks as you start working on building your relationship?”
“I hope he becomes less unbearable,” you say, though you suppose that’s more of a general life goal than one that’s project-specific. But it would be nice if he became a little more… palatable. Just so you don’t have to feel the urge to sock him in the face every time you speak to each other. 
“‘Less unbearable’, excellent,” Taehyung repeats. “Anything else?”
“Well,” you say with a shrug, not sure what else to say. What do you want from Jungkook? Obviously the two of you are about to embark on your own rom-com adventure, no doubt most of it his doing, but it’s hard to imagine that he himself (or you, for that matter) will change. If anything, the rom-com setting will just exacerbate the worst parts of both your personalities. Like some sort of curse. “I guess I just hope that the project goes smoothly.”
“I hope that it does, too,” Taehyung says with a smile. “Okay, last question.” Thank God. This interview couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it feels like an eternity to you. “Do you think you and Jungkook will fall in love at the end of this?”
“No.” You don’t leave any room for hesitation. “I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“We’re very different people with very different interests,” you explain succinctly. You’re sure Taehyung will grasp that once Jungkook has his turn and answers all the same questions. “He can try his hardest, but some things are just meant to stay the way they are.”
“Okay, thank you, Y/N, that’s all. I hope you found our conversation illuminating,” Taehyung says, his cue for the camera to stop rolling. You and Taehyung both turn to Jungkook, waiting for his signal, letting out a sigh when Jungkook gives you a thumbs-up. 
“Thank fuck,” you say, hopping off of the barstool happily. You head towards the camera, ready to kick Jungkook off of it, because it’s your turn to stand behind it with an annoying look on your face as you react to every stupid thing Jungkook says. You find that you’re actually sort of looking forward to it. Being behind the camera is where you feel most at home. Making faces at Jungkook is just a bonus. 
Jungkook’s still grinning that same goddamn grin when you approach him, making you narrow your eyes. 
“‘He can try his hardest’?” Jungkook teases, voice all high-pitched to mimic yours. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“Ah yes, my mission in life,” you retort easily. Maybe goading him on isn’t the best course of action, but you’re so confident that you won’t change your mind you find yourself actually anticipating his efforts. “Think you have what it takes?”
“Believe me, I do,” Jungkook says with a devilish glint in his eyes. 
You roll your eyes and kick him off the camera with a shove, pushing him towards Taehyung as he waits diligently on that chair of his. 
“So, Jungkook, same questions,” Taehyung says as Jungkook gets ready in his seat, fixing the blonde strands of hair that curl around the side of his face, framing his cheeks. 
“What? That’s no fair, he got to think about all his answers,” you exclaim, positively indignant. 
“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Jungkook says, voice sickly smooth, honey falling off his lips. “I’ve actually been thinking about the two of us for a long time.”
You pretend to throw up on Taehyung’s hardwood floor. 
As Taehyung promised, he asks Jungkook the same questions. And, as predicted, his answers about as far away from yours as the sun is from Pluto:
“Are you excited to begin the filming for this?”
Jungkook grins. “Yes, definitely. I actually took this class after hearing from a friend that the final project was a lot of fun.”
Taehyung beams. That friend was him. No wonder he was so happy to sign onto helping the two of you. 
“And how would you describe your current relationship with Y/N?”
“We’re soon-to-be-lovers.” 
“How forward of you.”
“Isn’t that my job?”
You have to stop yourself from bursting out into laughter behind the camera and ruining the interview. At least he’s not hiding anything. You’ll give him that. 
“So I suppose you expect the two of you to fall in love over the course of the project?”
“Yes, that’s going to happen.”
“And you seem pretty confident when you say that.”
Jungkook smirks as he turns to the camera. Or, more accurately, you. “Confidence is attractive.” 
You shake your head back at him. 
The rest of the interview falls pretty much into the same vein as the first few questions. Jungkook is so brazenly determined and hopeful and optimistic it actually pains you in a way, watching him make all of these promises both to you and himself that this project is going to turn out the way he hopes it does. His answers remind you of his discussion board posts, always looking on the bright side of every movie you watch, always finding the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel. A movie could be total Hollywood crap, filled with cheating scandals and misunderstandings and betrayals, and Jungkook could still find beauty in it. 
It’s strange. 
For the sake of you not actually throwing up in Taehyung’s lovely apartment, you tune out the majority of the middle of the conversation, having zero desire to listen to Jungkook wax poetic about your non-existent relationship like he’s saying his wedding vows. Only when Taehyung finally remarks that they’re on the last question do you finally come to again, ready to turn the camera off as soon as Jungkook finishes his answer. 
“Jungkook, do you think you and Y/N will fall in love at the end of this?”
“I do.” Wow, what a shocker. “I do, because I hope that by the end of this Y/N will have opened her eyes to the beauty of love, and will find joy in the feeling as something that makes her feel happy and warm. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure the things we do together are meaningful. And even if we don’t last, I hope that her memories of us together will be ones she can look back upon fondly and be grateful for.”
You purse your lips together. If only it were that easy. 
“Alright, cut,” you say, voice distant as Jungkook thanks Taehyung for his time and hops off the bar stool. “Thanks, Tae.”
“Anytime, you guys,” Taehyung says with a grin. 
Jungkook comes over to where you’re standing, possibly to grab his camera and tripod but most definitely to rub his obnoxious personality all up in your face. 
“You really think you’re gonna get me to fall in love with you, huh?” You muse, an eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Just so you can prove a point?”
“Believe it or not, Y/N, but I actually think that all people deserve the chance to experience love and that happens to include you, as well,” Jungkook responds easily. 
The words put a sour taste in your mouth. “You think I deserve it, huh?”
Jungkook nods, face solemn as he looks at you, gazing into your eyes with those big brown ones of his own. It makes you feel something unfamiliar. Like he’s reading right through your chest, into your heart. You don’t like it. “Everyone deserves love.”
“You guys are coming back, right? So I can leave the sheet up?” Taehyung interrupts after he’s moved both of his bar stools back to his kitchen counter. 
“Yeah, we’ll be back,” Jungkook answers quickly. “Thanks for setting everything up, by the way.”
“Of course. Plus, this is a good background for my nudes,” Taehyung says casually, like he’s mentioning what he’s having for dinner. “Looking forward to seeing you guys again.”
“Us, too,” Jungkook says. “Ready to go?”
“Only because it means I don’t have to see you anymore,” you retort pointedly, grabbing your backpack from where it sits on his couch as you head towards the door. 
“Just you wait, Y/N,” Jungkook says as you leave Taehyung’s building, one of those old-timey Victorian houses that was converted into a whole bunch of apartments. “You’re gonna see that I’m right.”
“Really? About what?”
“About us,” Jungkook says. You come to the stoplight, where Jungkook keeps going straight and you turn right. 
“Us?”
Jungkook grins as you turn in the direction of your own apartment. And, just as the light turns green, he says, “Just you wait. We’re gonna fall in love, you and me.”
If he says so. 
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“Hey! Y/N!”
You whip your head around at the sound of your name just as you’re opening the door to your local Starbucks, wondering who the hell is calling out to you at nine-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday. 
As it turns out, you don’t have to wonder too much, because the moment your eyes adjust to the blinding sunlight coming from the east side of campus you see Jungkook hurtling towards you, heavy black boots stomping down on the pavement as he rushes to catch up with you. 
“Can I help you?” You ask, thoroughly unimpressed, as you pull open the door, looking at Jungkook heaving beside you as he holds the door open for himself. 
“Just glad I caught you,” Jungkook gasps out between breaths. “Figured this might make a good scene for the movie.”
“It’s a mockumentary,” you remind him easily, getting in the line. 
“Whatever,” Jungkook says. “What do you normally get here? I don’t really go to Starbucks often.”
“Whatever will give me the most caffeine for the least amount of money,” you retort. 
“How efficient,” Jungkook comments. 
“You know that’s how I like to be,” you tell him with a pointed look. 
Jungkook mumbles his acknowledgement as he fumbles around in his backpack, fishing through the large pocket until he whips out his Canon, holding it out in front of him like he’s a dad about to film an embarrassing shot of his child. You look down at the camera just as he pans up to you, a confused frown written across your features. Jungkook laughs. 
“Do you really need to do that here?”
“I’m not even filming,” Jungkook says with a smile, like he just pulled his camera out so he could look at your unimpressed face through a different lens. “Look, you’re up.”
You turn around to find that the woman ahead of you in line has just moved towards the pick-up side of the counter, so you shimmy over towards the barista, ready to get this over with so you can dart out of the Starbucks as soon as possible. 
“Just a grande Americano, please,” you request simply, fingers grasping for the wallet inside your coat pocket. 
“Me too,” Jungkook chirps up from behind you. The closeness of his voice makes you jump, and suddenly you become keenly cognizant of how he’s practically pressed up next to you as he leans over towards the counter. You catch a glimpse of the debit card in his hand. “Here.”
“You don’t have to pay for me, it’s fine,” you quickly say, holding out your own card to the barista. 
“No, it’s okay, I want to. Here.” Jungkook pushes your hand away as he tries to stuff his card into the reader. 
“No, I won’t let you. I’m a big girl, I can pay for my own coffee,” you rebuke, feeling yourself growing oddly defensive. 
Jungkook sighs from behind you. “Oh, come on, you can’t let me do one nice thing for you?”
“Will one of you please pay, you’re holding up the line,” the barista asks in a desperate tone, clearly too overworked and too underpaid to be dealing with two bratty college students like yourselves. 
Jungkook manages to shove his card into the reader before you get the chance to do it yourself, pushing you to the side as he verifies all of his information and takes his receipt. Next to him, you seethe to yourself, feeling a personal loss even though you just got your coffee paid for. It’s not about the money. It’s about your pride. Never in your life have you wanted to so badly pay for an overpriced Starbucks coffee. 
You and Jungkook mosey over to the other side of the counter, waiting for your identical drinks to be made as you try and calculate how much longer you have to stand in the same room and breathe the same air as Jungkook. Seeing him in class, on your discussion board posts, and for your arranged final project meetings apparently isn’t enough, so now he has to invade your personal life, too. 
“What are you doing?” You huff out angrily, turning to Jungkook even as he holds his camera out in front of him, filming the Starbucks. 
“Recording our first meeting, obviously,” Jungkook says like it’s some kind of no-brainer. Like you were in on that from the moment he called your name out on the street. 
“What do you mean, ‘our first meeting’?” You scrunch up your nose in confusion. “We’ve known each other since the semester started.”
“I know, but…” Jungkook trails off unhelpfully, but you pick up what he’s putting down regardless. Right. This is supposed to be a mockumentary rom-com. And rom-coms always start with an introduction. 
The barista behind the counter calls out Jungkook’s name as he places two same-sized cups down at the pick-up station. The cup is burning hot, even with the little cardboard holder wrapped around it like a leg warmer, so you immediately move over to the station up against the wall with all of the sugar packets and napkins and little green splash sticks. Jungkook joins you without question, whether it be due to the fact that he doesn’t come here very often or because he just wants to keep invading your space, you couldn’t say. Grabbing one of the wooden sticks, you tug the plastic lid off of the cup and give the coffee a swirl. Watching you, Jungkook takes the lid off of his as well. 
“Are you just going to copy everything I do?” You deadpan. 
“Not everything…” Jungkook trails off suspiciously, looking down into his coffee like the two of them are conspiring something. 
“What are you talki—”
Without warning, Jungkook slams half of his body into you, and without a lid or one of those little green sticks, the coffee sploshes over the side of his cup and drenches the front of your exposed hoodie, hot liquid burning through the fabric of the hoodie and the t-shirt you have on underneath. You watch in horror as Jungkook plays it off like an accident, feet fumbling around on the hardwood floor like he had just tripped. But he didn’t just trip. He dumped half of his Americano onto the both of your fronts. 
“Jungkook!” You say instantly, resisting the urge to scream because you’re in a public place but feeling your skin go as hot as the coffee against your torso as you look up at him, fuming. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I’m such a klutz,” Jungkook says, somehow able to regain his balance, hold his coffee cup, and film the whole adventure all at the same time. “That was totally my fault, let me help you with that.” 
The camera is from his perspective, which you suppose is about as real as it gets for something grounded in reality like a mockumentary, but in this position he’s able to make conversation with his eyes, big brown ones wide as he tries to signify what exactly he means when he purposely spills coffee all over the two of you. 
You get it. You’ve seen enough rom-coms to know why he just did what he did, but you still find your mouth agape as you stare up at him, smoldering and angry and a little shocked he would dare be so bold, especially in the middle of a Starbucks coffee shop. 
“For God’s sake,” you say with an exhausted sigh despite it not even being ten in the morning yet. Unable to form any other comprehensible words, you settle for just pulling out napkins from the dispenser and dabbing the front of your hoodie as Jungkook looks at you apologetically. You can’t even tell if he’s truly sorry or just putting on another one of his shows. 
“I feel so bad,” Jungkook says, and you calm yourself down enough to nod. At least he isn’t blatantly laughing. “Can I pay for dry cleaning?”
“You’re really gonna offer to pay for my dry cleaning?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 
“It was my fault,” Jungkook admits. Now that you can agree on. 
You shake your head. “It’s okay. It’s just an old hoodie, it’s no big deal.”
“I’m still sorry,” Jungkook insists, and the more he says it the more you actually find yourself starting to believe him. Even if he did just spill coffee all over you. “Here, let me give you my jacket—”
“That’s not necessary,” you say as he shrugs off his backpack and begins to remove the bulky denim jacket he’s wearing, fabric worn and soft from years of use. “Seriously, it’s okay, it’s just a hoodie.”
“Yeah, but now you have coffee all over your clothes and you probably have class soon, right?” He says, an apologetic smile lacing his lips. He tugs off his jacket and holds it out towards you. 
“Jungkook, I’m fine, alright? I appreciate your concern, though,” you assure him. You throw away the last of the coffee-stained napkins in your hands and reach down for your backpack, which you had taken off your shoulders somewhere in the chaos. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, almost as if he was expecting resistance, and leans over you anyway. His arms extend outwards as he wraps his enormous denim jacket over your shoulders, the fabric draping loosely over your body. The damn thing was big on him, so on you it practically eats you up. You stand there, silent, as Jungkook adjusts the jacket on your torso, pulling underneath the hood of your sweatshirt as he makes sure it’s snug across your figure. 
“There,” Jungkook says. 
“Thanks,” you say, a half grin playing on your lips. The gesture makes you wonder if Jungkook really was planning on giving up his jacket this early in the morning for the sake of your movie. “That’s nice of you.”
“I hope it makes up for the fact that you smell like coffee now,” Jungkook says, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. 
“I appreciate it,” you say. 
“I have class, too, so I have to go,” Jungkook says, hoisting his backpack on his shoulders as he tucks his camera away. “I’m sorry again! See you around?”
Like you even have a choice. 
“Yeah, see you around,” you say as Jungkook darts off just as quickly as he arrived, rushing out the door before you have the chance to change your mind and give him his jacket back. 
When he leaves you, you find yourself at a loss for words. You stand there, lips pursed, coffee cold, as the weight of his jacket rests heavy on your shoulders. 
It smells like him. 
You should have known he would do something like this. Spill coffee all over the two of you, offer you his jacket, dash off like Cinderella at midnight. Like the opening of the world’s worst rom-com. The start of what is no doubt going to be the most unbearable final project you have ever done.
Plus, the other thing it’s ensured is a second meeting. How else is he going to get his jacket back?
And you know what the worst part is?
This is only the beginning.
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This time after FILM395 ends lecture for the day, it’s your turn to catch Jungkook lounging around after class. 
He’s lingering around the outside of the building, scrolling through his phone, a heavy leather jacket resting over a flannel that goes down to his knees and a baseball cap sitting firmly on his tuft of blonde hair. He’s obviously not paying attention to any of his surroundings whatsoever, because he doesn’t even notice you exiting out of the door he’s standing by until you say his name. 
“Jungkook,” you say, arriving in front of him. 
“Wha—oh, hi,” Jungkook says, jumping at the suddenness of it all. 
“Here,” you say, holding out his oversized denim jacket in between the two of you. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were going to give it back so soon,” Jungkook says, looking a little surprised and… is he touched? 
“I was going to give it to you a couple days ago but I thought I should give it a wash first,” you admit to him. 
Instinctively, Jungkook brings the jacket up to his nose to sniff it. “Smells like lavender.”
“Yeah, it’s my detergent. Hope you don’t mind. It’s a little wrinkled—I let it air dry since I was worried it might shrink in the dryer.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook says, a genuine smile lacing itself across his features. It’s not one you see too often, and definitely not the kind of smile he usually flashes in your direction. Those are all so obnoxious, so full of himself. This one’s different. It’s appreciative. Kinder. Softer. In a lot of ways. “I was thinking, if you don’t have class now, do you wanna grab some coffee?”
You narrow your eyes. “Only if you promise not to spill it on me this time.”
Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. “Okay, I got it. I won’t spill it on you.”
“Promise?” You prompt. 
“Promise.”
The walk to Starbucks this time is in relative silence, but neither of you seems to mind it very much. You aren’t dashing to catch up with each other and heaving snarky comments as you catch your breath. Jungkook even notices you shiver in the cool March breeze and wraps his jacket around you again anyway, although this time you make a mental note to make sure he doesn’t leave without it. Even though a lavender scent wafts off of the denim, it still smells a little bit like him. That boyish sort of aroma. You don’t think any detergent would ever be able to get rid of that. 
You and Jungkook both get americanos again because you’re predictable and creatures of habit, and Jungkook actually seems to quite like them. He pays and you don’t spend two minutes standing in front of the barista fighting over it. Jungkook seems so determined to pay the extra four dollars for your drink that you aren’t sure if it’s really worth arguing over it for the sake of pride anymore. What you and Jungkook put into making this project a success is what you’re going to get out of it. 
He picks one of the longer tables in the back of the study space, empty because it’s just after the lunchtime rush and most people have classes now, sets up the camera at one end, and you sit down at the other. 
“So,” you begin, not sure where to start because your coffee is too hot to take a sip from it. 
“So,” Jungkook echoes. 
Silence. 
You purse your lips in that awkward, I-don’t-know-what-to-say kind of way. “What do you want to do?”
Jungkook grins. “This is the part where we get to know each other.” 
“We already know each other.” You frown.
“Do we?” Jungkook poses, an eyebrow raised. “I mean, yeah, I guess we aren’t strangers, but I don’t know anything about you. Other than you’re a film major in a rom-com class who hates rom-coms.”
“I don’t hate rom-coms,” you object. “I just think it’s important to look at them from a critical lens.”
“Okay, whatever,” Jungkook says, shrugging you off. “The point is that we don’t know anything else about each other. Like, what’s your favorite color, for example?”
“Purple.” It’s an easy answer. You wore purple princess dresses when you were five, painted your bedroom lilac when you were ten, and still make sure to keep a purple highlighter in your pencil case now. “What’s yours?”
“Red,” Jungkook responds. 
“Cool,” you say, effectively ending the rest of the conversation.
Jungkook, sensing that same awkward silence, suggests something. “How about you ask me something now? We can go back and forth.”
You shrug. It’s not like you have anything better to do. “Alright.” You think for a moment, but then you have the perfect question. “Why film?”
Jungkook was clearly not expecting something so loaded, because his brows furrow, knitting themselves together as he begins to figure out a good enough answer. “Hmm,” he says, lost deep in thought. “I suppose the standard answer would be that I’ve always been interested in it, but I think I chose film because I want to be able to have the gift to tell other people’s stories. Being a filmmaker doesn’t just mean you stand behind a camera. It means you immerse yourself in the lives of other people to create something new. And… I don’t know. I guess I really like doing that.” 
You nod. 
For once, you understand him. Understand why he chose to major in film, why he chose to be in this tiny little program. Because there is so much out there, so much that you will never know, people you will never meet and things you will never see. And it’s a filmmaker’s job to make them turn into things you will see, people you will meet. Who knows the world better than the people who study it? The people who have devoted their lives to learning all its secrets?
“What about you?”
“Same as you,” you tell him. “Film is an art but it’s more than that to me. It’s a new way to look at the world. It’s several new ways to look at the world, depending on what kind of film you want to create and what kind of story you want to tell. I think it’s important to show people that all of the things they see in the media every day are not always reality. And that real people deserve to have their stories told, too. I don’t know. That’s what I think.”
Jungkook grins, a twinkle in his eyes. “Real people like us?”
“This project is different,” you insist. 
“I don’t think it is,” Jungkook says. “You said it yourself, we’re making this because it’s important to show people that the Hollywood entertainment they consume is not reality. This is. This is reality.”
You frown, kicking yourself in the shin because what was supposed to be a harmless conversation has now turned into an opportunity for Jungkook to try and convince you that you will, in fact, fall in love with him. You’ve dug your own grave and Jungkook was the one who handed you the shovel. 
“You’re not giving up, are you?” You say, shaking your head, flabbergasted. “Reality is the fact that this project is not going to make me fall in love with you. Nothing is.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Jungkook warns. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“You mean like spilling burning hot coffee all over me?” You ask, an eyebrow raised, a grudge still held. 
“We had to start somewhere,” Jungkook defends. “And you seemed to understand what I was doing pretty quickly.”
“It’s not the worst thing someone’s done to me,” you concede, only slightly. “Besides, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but throwing hot coffee all over me is not really a good way to start off your plan to get me to fall in love with you.”
Jungkook smiles. “All in due time, Y/N. All in due time.”
“I can’t believe Pollack actually paired us up together,” you say with a sigh. “You know she did it on purpose.”
“Of course she did.” It’s not really a surprise to either of you. 
“I met with her right after she announced our partners,” you tell him, “she said it was because she wanted to see what kind of project we would come up with. How we would address our… differing views on love.” That’s one way of putting it. A rather nice way, if you do say so yourself.
“Speaking of which,” Jungkook says, something suddenly flashing through his mind, “what do you really think about love? You know, other than it’s unrealistic and ruins people’s lives.”
“You make me sound like Ebeneezer Scrooge.” You frown at him. 
“I’m serious,” insists Jungkook. “Why are you so pessimistic about it? Have you ever been in love? Have you had bad experiences? You couldn’t have just developed this worldview over time.”
You scowl, feeling yourself getting defensive. “Well, maybe I did. Maybe that’s just what I think. Why do you care?”
“Because people don’t just hate love for no reason,” Jungkook exclaims. “Come on, there must be something.”
Your body stiffens. Who is he to be asking you this sort of shit? Why does he care so much? It’s not like it will have any effect on the outcome of your project. Not like you explaining yourself will change the way either of you look at the world. 
“What’s it to you?” You challenge. “Why do you love love so much? Have you ever fallen in love? Do you think it’s suddenly going to solve all of your problems?”
“I love it because I think it brings people real joy,” Jungkook answers simply. “It makes people happy and it’s beautiful. I love love and I’m not ashamed to say that out loud. I believe in it. I believe in love, and in destiny, and in soulmates. I want that. I think everyone deserves it.”
 You scoff to yourself. “You believe in soulmates?”
“I think we all have our people out there.” Jungkook nods. “Don’t you?”
You roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. This conversation has gone nowhere, and Jungkook looks as equally dissatisfied as you do. 
“I think love can make us do stupid things,” you tell him succinctly, if a little jaded. No need to say anything else. Your explanation is right there. “We’re just different, I guess. You and I.”
Jungkook blinks at you, eyes wide and a little desperate. Your conversation has remained stagnant and there’s almost nothing left to say. 
Almost. 
“Don’t you ever want to fall in love?” He asks, like it’s a last-ditch effort to get you to believe. 
You freeze. Let the words sink in for a moment. Before you push them out the door and toss them into the garbage. Just thinking about it gives you a headache. Puts a sour taste in your mouth. 
Quickly, you push yourself out of your chair and stand up, grabbing your coffee with one hand and your backpack with the other. “I have to go, sorry. I just remembered I’m meeting up with a friend to help her with a photography shoot,” you fumble out quickly, the legs of the chair screeching as you scoot them across the hardwood floor. “Oh, here’s your jacket, too. Thanks for giving it to me again. I’ll see you in class.”
You whip around and head towards the exit, and only when you’re outside of the Starbucks and passing by the window do you dare look back. Do you dare let your gaze drift back to Jungkook, who is sitting there like he still doesn’t understand you. Still can’t. 
You and Jungkook are final project partners and maybe, if you’re pushing it, acquaintances-slash-friends. But there are just some things better kept to yourself. 
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We’re reaching the halfway point in this semester and, as you all know, I don’t do midterms. That said, I still want you to reflect on what you’ve learned, discovered, and thought about thus far in this class. What portrayal of love did you find the most realistic? The least? How have they changed the way you think about love, both from a personal and a film perspective?
Y/N Y/N on March 3rd at 6:08PM
Purely from a film perspective, I really did enjoy watching Juno. It was funny and raunchy and just the right amount of vulnerable. It certainly felt the most real. So far, no film in this class has topped it for me. 500 Days of Summer, on the other hand, was in my opinion extremely unsatisfying and left no positive impression. The ending was a bore and Tom had absolutely no spine. It was a shame, because the direction and production was actually quite good. 
I guess I’m starting to realize how real love is not pretty. It can make people just as sad as it can make them happy. Why don’t we show the sad sides of love, too? The sides where your room is covered with a pile of clothes because you can’t bring yourself to do the laundry? Where you cannot cook a meal because it reminds you of a breakup? Rom-coms are, obviously, not the most realistic. But why are there not more films that do cover what’s real? How can we love love if all we know is a lie?
Jeon Jungkook on March 3rd at 11:13PM
Of course, I thought The Big Sick did an excellent job of their portrayal of love, adult life, and the problems that plague us all in the twenty-first century. It was also just as emotional and touched on concepts of race, illness, and being in your twenties and having no idea what direction your life is going in. The Princess Bride, on the other hand, as much as I love it, I do think created a more circumstantial kind of love. Westley and Buttercup mostly fall in love because of their situations. But it remains a classic nonetheless. 
I’m satisfied with the way the film industry has produced rom-coms and handles love. The beauty of it is that love is different for every person who goes through it. It can bring the greatest joy and the most painful sorrow. We do not just figure out what love is by what we see on film. We see it in our real lives, in our parents, in our friends, in couples in coffee shops and cars and on sidewalks. We can love love because we want that joy for ourselves. Because we know that true love will be worth any heartbreak we endure. Is it not impossible for the portrayals of love in these rom-coms to not be real? The way everyone experiences it is different. The only way you can know what real love is, and what it is not, is if you fall in love yourself. 
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Early on in your project development, you and Jungkook exchanged class schedules to optimize your productivity and skip over that stupid, terrible part of partner projects where you’re just going back and forth trying to pick a time that works for the both of you until you eventually settle on something ridiculous like eleven o’clock at night outside of the McDonald’s two blocks off of campus. 
It’s been working very well. Neither of you have adventurous-enough friends to invite you out on spontaneous picnics and restaurant dates that fuck with your pre-scheduled meeting times, and Jungkook already seems to have mastered the art of screaming your name when he catches you on the sidewalk so that you can film something. 
In fact, you’re actually beginning to wonder why you haven’t done this with all of your long-term partner projects. Send each other your schedules so that you can settle on a time in advance. No muss, no fuss. 
You and Jungkook are supposed to meet up again tonight, after the two of you are finished with all of your classes, to discuss what scenes you should be filming next. Edited down, you’ve already got about ten minutes worth of footage, but it’s mid-March and the project is due at the end of April. So you need to get this show on the road. 
The door slams shut behind you as you exit the business building, your film industry class having just ended a minute ago. You’ve got an hour to kill before your next class, just enough time to dash to the food court in the center of campus and grab something from the Japanese place in the back corner. You might even have time to browse the shelves in the bookstore if you’re fast enough. 
You round the corner to the main pathway through campus when a voice stops you in your tracks. 
“You’re just too good to be true…”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
It’s not Jungkook. Instead, in the middle of the walkway are the Eighth Notes, one of the fifteen-thousand (you don’t know for sure, but if you had to estimate) acapella groups on campus. They’ve got mic stands and a table set up and everything. Maybe they’re promoting an upcoming show…? 
You almost breeze right by when one of them, the one in the middle of the group, points right at you, a lopsided grin lacing his features. You aren’t one to normally stop in the middle of a crowded footpath, but when, one after another, all six of the boys start pointing at you, you have no choice. 
“You’d be like Heaven to touch…”
“I wanna hold you so much…” 
“At long last, love has arrived…”
“And I thank God I’m alive…”
“You’re just too good to be true…”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
Their voices are smooth like honey, warm and deep, romancing you through their mics as each one of them suddenly manifests a rose from behind them. Around you, people are starting to stare, gawking at you as they walk by. There’s even a small crowd starting to gather, and you swear you can see some people filming on their phones. The fact that this is happening in the busiest ten minutes of the day, as half the student body is walking from one class to another, isn’t helping. At all. 
The rest of them singing in the background, each one steps out from behind the set of microphones to hand you the rose, smiling their classic, old-timey smiles like those old jazz singers from the 1960s, until you’ve got half a dozen in your hands as they continue to sing. 
“But if you feel like I feel…”
“Please let me know that it’s real…”
“You’re just too good to be true…”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
And then, suddenly, all of them are shutting their traps and turning to the left, looking down the pathway as the song begins again, but from one-hundred feet away. 
“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night…”
Your mouth drops. At the other end of the walkway is Jungkook, one of those wireless microphones in his hand, grinning as he saunters down the path like a prince at a ball, voice sweet and thick as the words dance off of his lips. 
“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”
Your eyes lock from opposite ends of the path, Jungkook stepping closer with every beat the Eighth Notes gives him. It sort of feels like your impending doom and a wedding proposal, all at once. By now a rather substantial audience has gathered, lining the walkway with their phones out, filming Jungkook as he waltzes past them, occasionally turning to capture your gobsmacked expression. 
Every step that Jungkook takes makes your heart race something fierce, cheeks warming in embarrassment, trapped in your least favorite thing in the entire world: a public serenade. You can’t really do anything except look at him in shock, feeling his steady gaze resting firmly on your figure, looking right at you. Into you. 
“Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray…”
Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay…”
Jungkook, on the other hand, is clearly relishing in this. In the spotlight. In the music. Or maybe just in the fact that you’re on the receiving end of his over-the-top advances. His grin is wide as he takes those last few steps, microphone gripped neatly in his hand, the lyrics warm and weighty as they tumble from his lips. 
“And let me love you, baby…”
One final step and he’s right in front of you, staring into your eyes, letting himself bask in the look on your face. He produces a rose himself—cherry red, like his favorite color—and holds it out in between the two of you. In the background, the Eighth Notes go quiet, leaving Jungkook on his own for the final line. 
“Let me love you…”
The words drift above your heads, disappearing into the sky as he lingers on them, on that last note, beaming down at you. He looks at you, so hopeful, so happy, so endeared, and what else can you do? What else, besides taking the rose from his hand and smiling back up at him? Who are you to deny him of that?
The crowd around you cheers when you do, applauding both Jungkook and the Eighth Notes, with whom he is apparently in cahoots, before they all decide that they ought to get on with their day and head to class. No doubt you’ll be on several dozen Instagram stories by nightfall. 
Only after everyone has dispersed do you notice Taehyung, who must have been here since the beginning, because he’s just turning off the camera dangling from his neck. Of course Jungkook got him to film. Other than your project, what else would this be for?
“Is that the best you can do, Jungkook?” You smirk up at him, only saying this because you can’t have him knowing that you actually kind of enjoyed it. 
“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Jungkook responds easily. “Thought I would do something spontaneous.”
“And now you’ve taken up ten minutes of my lunch,” you say, shaking your head to yourself. “How spontaneous, indeed.”
“How was that, Jungkook?”
Behind the two of you, the Eighth Notes are packing up, clearly more than happy to have aided Jungkook on his quest for so-called love and getting to promote their group in the process. 
“Great, thank you so much, Jimin,” Jungkook says to the one in the middle, the very first one to sing when you walked out of the door. 
“Anytime, dude. Glad we could help,” Jimin responds. He waves hi to Taehyung, too, as they store their microphones and go on their way. 
Jungkook bids them goodbye as they head down the path, smiling at all of them before he turns back to you, notices the distant, faraway look in your eyes as you twirl the rose between your fingers, press it to your nose to pick up its scent. 
“You gotta admit, I’m a pretty good singer, eh?” Jungkook says with a nudge to your shoulder. 
“You’re alright.”
Jungkook laughs to himself. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Don’t get a big head,” you warn. 
“Think I’ll have to sing for you more, now, hmm? Since you liked it so much?” He suggests, eyebrows wiggling. 
You roll your eyes. “Only if you can get Jimin and the Eighth Notes to back you up, again. Then maybe I’ll allow it.”
Jungkook grins. He’s far past the point of being deterred by your deadpan comments. If anything, they only encourage him more. But you, for obvious reasons, cannot give in. At least, not yet, anyway. 
“Okay, go eat your lunch,” he says, nodding as you begin to part ways. “I’ll text you later, okay?”
You smile. “Okay. See you.”
“See you, too.”
The moment you get back to your apartment you put all seven roses in an old vase filled with water. They brighten up your bedroom instantly, soft scent freshening up the air. And when you go to bed that night, it is to Jungkook’s sweet, delicate voice, like walking on clouds, like satin and silk, that you fall asleep.
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“Good morning, Y/N,” Jungkook greets like always, smiling at you as you walk in the door for FILM395. 
“Good morning, Jungkook,” you say in response. 
Then, you take a seat right next to him. 
It’s an act that clearly catches everyone off guard, if the bewildered looks of your fellow classmates and Jungkook’s confused expression are anything to go by. Even Pollack, when she walks through the door, gets a bit of a shock, eyes widening when she sees the two of you seated next to each other. 
You suppose all the fuss is understandable. After all, you both sort of hate each other. 
Other than the sudden change in seating arrangement, however, the rest of the class goes off without much issue. Pollack lectures for an hour before you move into discussion, at which point it becomes a class participation free-for-all, with you and Jungkook almost definitely in the lead. Just because you’re now sitting next to each other doesn’t mean either of you are suddenly going to stop raising your hands to rebuke each other’s points. Some things never change. 
Sitting next to Jungkook is not as bad as you thought it would be. For one, he is, for the most part, a rather diligent student. Other than his occasional flicks to his email, an essay he’s working on, or your discussion board, he mostly sits and takes notes and doesn’t do anything else. That, you can at least give him credit for. And even though your elbows almost always nearly crash into each other’s when you’re raising your hands to respond to a point Pollack’s made, discussion isn’t so bad either. 
One of the perks of sitting directly beside each other is that whenever he says something stupid, or saccharine, or just overly unrealistic, you don’t have to just roll your eyes from the back of the classroom while you wait to be called on. You also get to kick his foot with your own, nudge your elbow into his side. And he does the same to you. You and Jungkook are like those neighbors in sitcoms that spend all their free time shouting at each other from opposite windows. Just because your seats have gotten closer doesn’t mean your viewpoints have. 
A notification pops up on your laptop.
[March 17th, 11:05AM]
Jungkook: wanna meet at the tables outside after class?
You look over at Jungkook with a frown.
You: Why are you texting me? We’re sitting right next to each other
Jungkook: because we’re in class obvs Jungkook: dont wanna be disruptive
You: Since when has that ever stopped you before?
Jungkook: haha very funny Jungkook: tables sound good?
You: Only since you asked so nicely :)
Jungkook: thoughtful as always i see
After class, you and Jungkook both hang around, waiting for each other to pack up your belongings so you can walk to the tables together. Everyone else seems to sense this weird, uncomfortable tension in the room, because they all book it out of the door much faster than either of you do. You’re almost convinced Jungkook purposely takes extra time to zip his backpack, just because. 
The tables are, as per usual, empty. But you don’t have a pile of receipts to spread out, this time. You and Jungkook take a seat at one of them as you pull out your laptops, ready to outline the rest of the project. 
“We should probably meet with Taehyung a couple more times, too,” you suggest as you begin to brainstorm. 
“Sounds good,” Jungkook agrees. “But we can’t meet at night on weekdays anymore. My dance group’s show is coming up and we have practice then.”
You stop typing and turn to him. “I didn’t know you were in a dance group.”
Jungkook shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I don’t really talk about it that much.”
“You should.”
He looks up at you at that, eyes wide as he faces you. 
“I don’t know, it seems like something you should be passionate about,” you say. In the same way that you promote the Film Club to every freshman you know, force all your friends to mark that they’re Interested in your event pages on Facebook. Jungkook should want to tell everyone about his dance group. Doesn’t he love it? Isn’t he proud to be in it?
Jungkook doesn’t look like he knows what to say to that. So he doesn’t say anything at all. 
“We can meet on weekends too,” you say, adjusting to his new change of schedule easily. “This project isn’t as all-consuming as I thought it would be.”
“You mean I’m not as all-consuming as you thought I would be,” Jungkook corrects. 
You shake your head. “No, you are.” He laughs. “But yeah, on weekends is fine. You know my schedule. What else should we do, besides talk to Taehyung?”
It’s like a lightbulb goes off above Jungkook’s head. “Let’s go on a date.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “No.”
“What do you mean, “no”? It’s the natural progression of our relationship! It’s the next step in the rom-com! We have to,” Jungkook insists. 
“First of all, it’s a mockumentary, not a rom-com,” you say with a sigh, finding yourself having to correct him rather frequently. “Secondly, we are not in a relationship. I am not dating you and you are not dating me.”
“Okay, but at this point in rom-coms the two leads would definitely go on a date,” Jungkook says, punctuating every word for emphasis. “What’s the harm? It’s not like you’re committing yourself to a future with me.”
“Thank God,” you mutter. 
“Oh, shut up. You probably haven’t been on a date in years, anyway. Why not spend a night out?”
You frown at that. “Who cares if I have or have not been on a date?” Why does Jungkook care so much about the history of your love life? He’s always saying stuff like this, always telling you things as if you’ve never been in a relationship at all, don’t know left from right, black from white. Who is he to be making those assumptions?
“Please, Y/N,” Jungkook begs, looking desperate. “Just one evening. And then if it really goes terribly and you end up hating me again, then we don’t have to do another one.”
You sigh, shoulders slumping. Well, what else are you going to do? You don’t have any other ideas. And you’ve already spent so much time with Jungkook this semester, what’s another evening? Just something else to cross off of your list of things to film. Maybe you can get him to take a cute photo of you to post on social media. 
“Fine,” you concede. “One date. And I still hate you, by the way.”
Jungkook clearly does not believe you. “Really? You still hate me? I’m sure you do.”
“Okay, I don’t hate you. But still,” you relent again. Perhaps you’re just being oddly soft today. Too lenient for your own good. 
Jungkook grins, cheeks little round circles as his lips curve up. “I know you like me. You just can’t admit it to yourself, can you? Can’t take that blow to your dignity.”
“Don’t think so highly of yourself,” you chide. 
“Who knows?” Jungkook tacks on, just to be extra annoying. “Maybe you’re actually starting to fall in love with me.”
You scoff. “You wish.”
“Well, are you?”
Jungkook doesn’t ask the question the same way he’s asked all of the other ones. Doesn’t say it with a shit-eating grin on his face or that glint in his eyes. He’s asking because he’s curious. Curious if what he’s been doing has been working. Curious if this project is really accomplishing anything at all. 
Funnily enough, you find yourself wondering the exact same thing.
Silent, you pausing for a moment to think, chewing on the inside of your lip. Jungkook’s looking back at you, lips curled upwards as he waits for a response. Ugh, you’ll just have to give it up. What else can you say? “I guess…” you begin, hesitating. 
You aren’t sure why you’re so scared to respond. Maybe you’re just worried that things will change if you say something. If you tell him the truth. 
But it’s just Jungkook. He’s sitting in front of you patiently, waiting for your answer. What could happen?
You confess. “I guess you’re not so bad after all.”
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Even though this is not the first time you’ve ever been out on a “date” (you’re using that word tentatively), picking out what to wear isn’t any easier than the last time. 
“Is black too, you know, sexy?”
Ruby shrugs on the other end of the video call. Her phone is propped up on her desk as she works on something on her laptop, glancing over every now and then whenever you prompt her to respond. “Well, that depends. Do you wanna fuck?”
“No.”
“Then it might be too sexy,” Ruby says easily. “What are you even doing? I thought you didn’t go out on dates.”
“It’s not a date,” you insist, although you’re not exactly sure which of the two of you you’re trying to convince. 
“You’re asking me what kind of sexy dress to wear for a night out with a guy. It’s a date,” Ruby reminds you, economical as always. “Who are you even going out with, anyway? You just called and asked me to pick between two dresses I have literally never seen you wear before.”
“That’s because I don’t go out on dates, which this is not,” you tell her, even expending the energy to stare into the camera to hammer your point home. “And it’s with Jungkook.”
Ruby shuts her laptop at that. You can hear the sound of her keyboard clacking as the lid hits them. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do I need to remind you that this is not a date and therefore, you don’t need to be acting like I just told you I’m getting married.” You frown at her. “It’s just for our movie. Jungkook wants me to dress nicely, though.”
“Wear that nice summer dress you have,” Ruby instructs instead, shooing away the two much sexier options you’re currently holding in your hands. “Just put tights on underneath if you’re cold.”
“This one?” You ask, shuffling through your closet until you produce the gingham dress, plaid a pale yellow that matches gold jewelry rather well. 
“Yes, that one. I like that one,” Ruby says with a nod. “You look good in it.”
“I don’t know, I feel like it’s not appropriate.” You hesitate. It’s a cute dress, sure, but it seems too… casual. Too everyday. Jungkook’s taking you out to dinner, and no doubt he’s got something else planned for the rest of the evening. 
“I mean, you did say you had no plans on fucking him tonight,” Ruby reminds you coarsely. 
“I have no plans on fucking him at all,” you reiterate. “This is not a date. It is for our movie.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby brushes you off with a wave of her hand. “Wear whatever you want, but I like your yellow dress the most. It looks really nice on you. And if it’s not a date, then neither you nor Jungkook should care.”
“Ruby—”
“I gotta go. Enjoy your not-date!”
She hangs up. 
You end up wearing the yellow dress. Jungkook knocks on your apartment door just as you’re closing the clasp to your necklace, a gold choker your mother had gifted you for a birthday a couple of years ago. It’s nothing much. You grab a jacket on your way to answer the door, wrapping it around your figure as you twist the knob. 
On the other side is Jungkook, all decked out in black jeans and a clean-cut leather jacket, the black ensemble striking against his warm-toned skin and bleached, blonde hair. You hate to admit it, but he actually does look rather good. For Jeon Jungkook. 
“Hi—whoa,” Jungkook says, doing a little whistle when he sees you, eyes bulging out of their sockets. 
You chuckle. “‘Whoa’ yourself.”
“You, uh…” Jungkook stammers slightly, a hand coming up to rub at the nape of his neck. The movement lifts his arm up just enough for you to see the line of his waist, the seamlessness of his body. He’s always been rather fit. “You look nice.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” you chide, stepping outside and pulling the door shut behind you. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
“Cleaned up just for you.” He grins. 
You press a hand to your heart dramatically. “I’m touched.” You begin walking down the hallway of your small apartment building, feeling your hands brushing by your sides due to how skinny the corridor is. At least, that’s what you assume. 
“Where are we going?” You ask as Jungkook opens the door to the passenger side of his car for you. 
He winks, that same gleam in his eye. He grins something wicked. “Don’t you remember?” He asks. “It’s a secret.”
The secret turns out to be a small Italian restaurant on an off-road in the center of town, a family joint with those plaid red tablecloths and dark wooden chairs. You’d never heard of the place before tonight, but Jungkook insists that it’s delicious and says it has a four-and-a-half star rating on Yelp, which is obviously gospel when it comes to restaurants. It’s so empty that he even has room to prop up the camera a couple of tables away to get that wide-angle shot of the both of you, two souls in a tiny little restaurant, enjoying a night out on the town. You’re sure that by the time production and post-production rolls around you’ll edit out most of your dialogue, but you like the idea of keeping in snippets of the audio, overlaying the scene with a soft instrumental. 
From a director’s point of view, of course. No other reason to romanticize your night with him. 
It’s nice. Objectively, it’s definitely one of the more exciting things you’ve done in a while, even if it’s just a dinner out in town, away from campus. It’s new. Adventurous. Jungkook convinces you to try his vodka shrimp linguine and you offer up some of your truffle-flavored gnocchi, which he devours happily. One thing you do learn is that no matter how much time passes, no matter how much food is on his plate, Jungkook eats and eats and eats. He never seems to fill up. This is one of those restaurants that pile your bowls high with pasta, give you at least three servings, send you home with to-go packages that will last you for days, and he still somehow manages to eat every last bite. He even has some of your leftovers. 
Jungkook pays because he insists and says that you shouldn’t fight on camera, which you have no choice but to agree to. However, you do look him up on Venmo and send him twenty dollars to cover your half of the bill, because the idea of him paying for you doesn’t sit right with you. It was fine with the coffee, a small token of repayment after spilling it all over you, but dinner just feels like too much. Like he’s carrying most of the weight and you aren’t shouldering enough. Like he’s putting in all of the effort and you are just bandwagoning off of him. 
And partnerships aren’t supposed to be like that. Jungkook isn’t supposed to do all of the work. You aren’t supposed to do nothing. You and Jungkook may not agree on much but you both know that you are equals. That what you put in is what you get out. 
It’s a lesson you think you learned too late, but you won’t make those mistakes again. You’ll get it right this time. 
“That was nice,” Jungkook says after the dinner. You’re walking through the park just across the street now, the sun having set and the streetlamps illuminating your path. The city has strung up lights along the trees, draped them over the branches like stars, like snowflakes. It’s picturesque. 
“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks for taking me.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“How did you discover that place?” You ask, just out of curiosity. It’s not exactly the kind of restaurant that would be front and center on Google. 
“I went out on a date in freshman year there,” Jungkook admits, lips pursed awkwardly. “Yeah.”
“Did it at least go well?” You ask, trying to be hopeful. 
“If it did, do you think I’d still be here doing this with you?” Jungkook poses, an eyebrow raised. 
You chuckle to yourself. “You don’t mean that. I’m sure you’ll find your person.”
“You actually believe in that stuff now?” Jungkook asks you, skeptical. 
“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “You do. I don’t wanna ruin it for you. Your person’s out there somewhere.”
“How do you know I haven’t already found my person?”
You stop in the middle of the path, feet coming to a halt on the pavement. Jungkook looks at you and you look back at him, letting his question sink into your skin, etch itself into your thoughts. He’s asking you because he wants to know. He looks so genuine, so patient, like he’s trying to find an answer somewhere in your eyes but you can’t give him one. 
“Wouldn’t you be able to tell when you did?”
Jungkook sighs. “I don’t know if it always works like that.”
You smile, soft and small. Musing, you say, “well, when you figure it out, let me know.”
“Do you think you’ve found your person?” Jungkook asks you. 
“You know I don’t think about love like that,” you remind him. 
“Well, how do you think about it?”
You gaze up at him once more, that same soft smile playing on your lips. Who is he to be asking you these questions, you wonder to yourself. What would the point be in answering him? It’s better if you just both moved on. Especially since stuff like this has no relevance to your project. 
“I don’t really think about love at all,” you say curtly. 
“I wish you did,” admits Jungkook. 
The look in your eyes is distant. “Yeah.” You wish you did, too.
“How about we do a couple of quick shots, right here?” Jungkook suggests, pulling out the camera. “Just here, the lighting’s nice.” He jogs back a couple of feet, lining himself up with where you stand, kneeling on the pavement with the camera held up to his eye. 
“What do you want me to do?” You call to him, feeling like a fish out of water in front of the lens, thumbs twiddling. 
“Just smile,” Jungkook requests simply. “Say hi to me.”
Sounds easy enough. Under the twinkling lights of the trees, in the haze of their warm yellow glow, you wave to Jungkook, smiling happily. You aren’t exactly sure what the purpose of these shots are, but you suppose you could always use some artistic frames in your movie. Grinning, you keep your eyes trained on him, on the way you can see him smiling back at you even from behind the camera. His eyes are covered, you can’t see those, but you hope they’re smiling too. 
“Okay, my turn,” you say when a little too much time has passed, when it’s just past the point of filming for the sake of a movie and more for the sake of something else. “Get over here.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you idiot.” You scurry over to Jungkook, taking the camera from his hands and pushing in in the general direction of where you were just standing. Situating yourself, you kneel right where Jungkook was, bringing the camera to your eyes. 
Through the lens, you can see the entire width of the pathway, the grass that borders it, the lights decorating the branches of the trees, and Jungkook, front and center. He looks like he has no idea what he’s doing there, waiting awkwardly as he gazes around, eyes drifting everywhere but exactly where you need them: you. He looks good like this, looks much taller, much more romantic. Like a real movie star. Like a model. His clothes make him blend in with the darkness of the night but his eyes are still shimmering, golden flecks twinkling, even from all the way over here. 
You have to admit it. He’s beautiful.
“Smile,” you say, pressing film. 
Jungkook grins your way. 
Afterwards, you give him his camera back and continue walking, turning the corner as you reach the edge of the park, ready to circle around the perimeter.
“How about we hold hands, too?”
“Excuse you?” You say, an eyebrow raised. 
“Come on, just for a second,” Jungkook pleads. “For the artistry. I’ll film us holding hands like all those Los Angeles boys do in YouTube vlogs.”
You look at him suspiciously. Is he sure it’s just for the artistry? “What a great example.”
“Please? Promise I always put hand cream on,” Jungkook asks, bottom lip turned outwards. 
It’s getting harder and harder to say no to him. 
“Fine,” you cave rather easily this time around. “Just for a minute.”
“Excellent.”
Jungkook lifts the camera up to his eye with his right hand as he holds out his left, palm facing the sky as he waits for you to rest your own in his. You narrow your eyes to the camera before your gaze drifts downwards to his open hand, almost like you’re afraid it’s going to jump out and bite at you if you get any closer. But it won’t, because it’s a hand. And it won’t, because it’s just Jungkook. 
The first thing you realize when your fingers intertwine with his is how big his hands are. They are massive. His left one dwarfs your own, wrapping around it securely, enveloping it like a king-sized comforter. The second thing you realize is how soft they are (he must not have been lying about the hand cream). The third thing you realize is the way they send sparks up and down your body, send tingles through your skin, shocks through your veins. You seize up a little bit at the feeling before your body finds it in itself to relax, letting the sensation wash over you like a wave from the ocean. 
It’s new. 
It’s strange. 
You haven’t felt that way in a long time. Felt those sparks, those jolts of energy. Like lightning has struck. 
Jungkook moves so that your hands are held out in front of you, making sure to adjust the lens just so he can get the exact right angle, but all you can focus on is the way your fingers interlock, the way your hand settles into his. 
You wonder what that means. 
The moment Jungkook lowers the camera you pull your hand away, overwhelmed and scared and shocked all at once. Like you’re afraid that if you reach out to him again, your whole body will freeze in place, shake like the wind. 
Jungkook looks at you, concern lacing his features. “You alright?” He asks, genuine and worried. 
You shake your head, willing those thoughts away. “I’m fine, I’m fine. You get the shot?”
“Yeah, I did,” Jungkook says. 
“And how do they look?” You ask because you can’t help yourself. Because you just have to know. 
Jungkook pauses, not sure how to respond. He chews on his lips like he’s running through all the possible answers, trying to figure out which one is right. You almost think he’s not going to reply at all, but then he smiles, and he says this: 
“Magical.”
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It feels weird for you to be arriving at Kim Taehyung’s door without Jungkook by your side. Doesn’t sit right in your stomach. 
Of course, Taehyung is as hospitable as always, welcoming you inside with his signature warm grin as he sets up the bar stools by the bedsheet, which you assume he will just not take down until your project’s over. Hopefully he’s getting use out of it otherwise, shooting nudes or whatever it is he said he would do. 
“Thanks for having me,” you say, resting your backpack against the foot of his couch as you set up the tripod, arranging it in just the right spot. It’s not Jungkook’s fancy camera that you’ve got with you, just your own from a couple years ago, but it’ll get the job done. You couldn’t ask Jungkook to borrow his, anyway. You’d pass away before he found out you did this. 
“We might not use this footage,” you warn in advance. “I just figured it’s safer to film everything just in case.”
“Why wouldn’t you use it?” Taehyung asks, genuinely curious. 
“Because I don’t know if this conversation will really have a point,” you say nervously, fingers fidgeting with the settings until everything’s just right. 
“I’m sure it’ll be important,” Taehyung assures you. You’re not so confident. “Ready to get started?”
“Yes, everything’s all set up,” you say, concentrating on your breathing as you make your way to the stool. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Why are you so worried?
“So, Y/N, how are you feeling right now?” Taehyung begins. 
You sigh. “Confused.”
“And why is that?”
“I… I don’t really know what direction I’m going in anymore for this project,” you say, letting yourself be candid and honest because it’s just Taehyung, and because you may not even use this footage, and because Jungkook’s not here. He doesn’t know you’ve asked Taehyung to do this for you. He doesn’t need to. 
“And is this because of Jungkook?”
“Yes.” Another easy answer. 
“How are you feeling about him?”
“I’m…” you don’t know where to begin. “I’m not sure. I just know that something’s changed.”
“Your feelings have changed?” Taehyung isn’t reacting, just asking questions in response to your answers and pretending that everything is normal, that this is just another interview. 
“I guess they have,” you admit. Even just saying that feels like a weight off your chest. A small one, five pounds out of a thousand. But it’s a difference. “I… don’t really know how I feel about him anymore.”
“In a good or bad way?”
Taehyung told you he would ask tough questions, but you don’t know if you can answer these anymore. 
“I don’t know,” you say, feeling yourself growing desperate with impatience. “I don’t feel the same things about him that I used to. He’s different to me now.”
“Do you think he’s changed?”
“Something has.”
“Have you considered the possibility that maybe you’ve changed, too?”
You frown, caught off-guard by his question. No, you haven’t. You haven’t thought about that at all. Why would you? Your stance is the same. Your opinions on love haven’t changed. And neither have your convictions about this project, about the way it will end. 
“No,” you say, nose scrunched up. 
“Well, I’m no expert, but I think there might be something between the two of you that wasn’t there before,” Taehyung says, nodding. “I think that the ways the two of you have changed have brought you together.”
“I don’t know about that…” You trail off. You can feel yourself growing hesitant again, pulling back from saying too much because you’ve never been a very good speaker. Because you’ve always preferred being behind the camera to being in front of it. 
“Don’t you think you should tell him how you feel?”
You scoff. At least that’s got an easy answer. A no-brainer. “No,” you say matter-of-factly, obvious because it is, stern because telling him was never an option anyway. Why else does Taehyung think you’re here without him? “Jungkook said he would get me to fall in love with him and I told him I would never. How could I ever let him think he was actually winning?”
Taehyung sighs.
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You haven’t seen Jungkook since your class on Wednesday. Granted, it’s only Saturday, but it feels like it’s been a weirdly long time. Like you’re so used to him barging into your life on the daily that there’s something off about even going three days without seeing him. Maybe it’s just because you’re nearing the beginning of April and your project is finally picking up steam. Between the two of you, you almost definitely have more than two hour’s worth of footage, but the hard part will be paring it down and turning it into a forty-five minute documentary. No doubt you and Jungkook will be spending a lot of time together the week before it’s due. 
Just out of curiosity, you text him. Because you have no idea what he’s been getting up to. 
[March 28th, 1:05PM]
You: Hey, do you think we need to get together sometime this weekend?
Jungkook: i don’t think i can Jungkook: it’s my dance group’s show this weekend
You: Really? You: You didn’t tell me
Jungkook: been too busy
You: What time is your show tonight?
Jungkook: 7pm
You: Sounds good, I’ll be there
Jungkook: oh Jungkook: you don’t have to
You: I want to You: I’ll see you there!
That night, you drop by the grocery store beforehand to pick up a bouquet of flowers. You haven’t been a performing arts show for years now, especially not one where you actually know the people performing, but flowers are customary. Or so you’ve heard. 
You don’t know a single soul who has plans on seeing Jungkook’s dance group either, but the theater is a ten-minute walk away from campus and you’re happy to make the trek alone, especially because you know you’ll find someone you know soon enough. Sometimes it’s nice to walk by yourself, letting the streetlamps above your head illuminate your path, a faceless figure passing by others. It brings peace. And it gives you time to sift through your thoughts, organize them into neat little piles and brush away all of the dust. 
Admittedly, you are not much of a connoisseur of the performing arts. You aren’t even much of a consumer. In another universe, under different circumstances, you wouldn’t blink twice if you heard that one of the dance groups on campus was having their show. But this is not another universe, and these are not different circumstances. 
Jungkook will be there. He is taking something he’s worked tirelessly on and presenting it to the world. Now that you think about it, it’s actually a lot like film. And if Jungkook has devoted so much time, put so much energy into this performance, what kind of person would you be if you didn’t go and watch his creation?
You pick a seat in the far back corner, the venue so cozy that even despite being the furthest away you’ve still got an excellent view, sit down, and wait for it to begin. 
[March 28th, 6:58PM]
Jungkook: hey are you here?
You: I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?
Jungkook: always such a tease
You roll your eyes at that, turning your phone off and stowing it away in your pocket. Two minutes later, the lights dim. 
The moment Jungkook steps out onto the stage, you recognize him instantly. He’s wearing all black again, but it’s not the same skinny jeans and leather jacket he had on when he took you out to dinner. It’s a loose long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, highlighting the blondeness of his hair, the red in his lips. He’s one of at least a dozen people on stage but he’s the only one you focus on, the only one who your eyes follow. Booming throughout the theater is a Drake song, the beat thick and low, but it’s background noise when compared to the way he moves, the way he twists and turns his body on stage, angles sharp and crisp. 
The whole song goes by so quickly that by the time you find it in yourself to blink the stage is already darkening as they move onto the next song, switching out the performers and changing the spotlight colors to a sultry red. Jungkook disappears for this one, vanishing behind the curtains and forcing you to pay attention to the performance as a whole instead of just him. But you have to hand it to his group: they’re excellent. You’ve been missing out. 
Jungkook returns with the next song, having had just enough time to change into an all-white ensemble. He’s easy to spot even with that ridiculous bucket hat on, blonde hair bouncing with every step he takes, every jerk of his body. You can see it all the way from where you sit, see the way he loses himself in the music, lets the rhythm radiate through his blood, lets his heart match the beat that booms through the speakers. This, all of it, the music, the dancing, the energy—it’s all his. It belongs to him. Jungkook may love film but he is passionate about this. It is something that must bring him all the joy in the world. 
The next hour and a half goes by quickly, the songs jumping from one to another to another, Jungkook dashing on and off stage, each time returning in a different getup than the one prior. Makes you wonder just how many clothes he has. But before you know it the final song is playing and every one, every single member is on stage, jumping and cheering and celebrating a job well done. And they should, because they deserve to. 
When the lights in the theater come on, nobody leaves. Instead, everyone rushes towards the stage to say hello to everybody, congratulate them on their performance and take pictures with their friends. That’s why everyone else is here, isn’t it? Because the people they care about performed tonight. 
Isn’t that why you’re here, too?
Jungkook has plenty of other friends already wrapping their arms around him, giving him high-fives and pats on the back, but you’ve got a bouquet of assorted flowers in your hands and you have no plans on bringing them home. So you squeeze your way through the crowd, push yourself in between bodies, and you shout, 
“Jungkook!”
Jungkook looks up instantly at the call of his name, the round shape of his lips curving upwards into a smile when he sees you. 
“Hey, you made it!” He exclaims happily. He’s so pumped on the adrenaline that he pulls you into a hug without either of you even realizing it, wrapping his arms around your torso and squeezing you tight for a few moments before the two of you remember just exactly who you both are. Quickly, you pull away, chuckling awkwardly. Jungkook scratches at the back of his head. “Thanks for, uh—thanks for coming.”
“Of course,” you say happily. “You were amazing.”
“What can I say, I’m a man of many talents,” Jungkook schmoozes, annoying as always. 
You scoff slightly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Here, I brought this for you. It’s traditional, right?” You hold out the bouquet in front of you, pink plastic wrapping crunched up from where your fingers gripped the stems. 
“Wow, thank you,” Jungkook says, in awe as he takes the flowers from you, pressing his face into the petals instinctively. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”
“Really?” You say, genuinely surprised at his admission. He’s never been given flowers before? Not even for a performance? You didn’t know that, either. “Then I’m glad to be the first.”
“You know you didn’t have to do that,” Jungkook says, though he looks grateful nonetheless. 
You shrug, acting casual. “Aren’t we supposed to be falling in love, or something?”
He grins. 
“Did you guys film this? Maybe we could incorporate it into the movie,” you suggest, thinking it might be interesting to add in glimpses into your normal lives, into the things you do when you aren’t trying to one-up each other. 
Jungkook shakes his head. “We did, but I don’t think we need to add it in.”
“Why not?” It seems like a perfect addition. 
Jungkook pulls out a single flower from the bouquet, a pale yellow daisy, and hands it to you. You smile your thanks, twirling the stem in between your fingers. 
“I don’t know,” he says, looking oddly soft, cheeks turning cherry red. He looks at you and it makes your heart flutter, quickens the drum of your chest. “I just think I’d like to keep this moment to ourselves.”
You suppose he’s got a point. You don’t think you’ll forget this night, either. 
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The bouquet you gave him sits on Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom windowsill, bathing in the afternoon sun. Taehyung gave him some plant food the morning after you came to his performance, a little bottle that he can spritz into the water whenever the flowers look a little droopy. Jungkook adds some every day, determined to keep them alive for as long as possible. He also makes sure he’s got a rather heavy book or two, something he can use to press one of them when they’ve all shriveled up. 
It was really nice of you to come to his show, he thinks to himself. Jungkook can’t remember the last time someone outside of his group of close friends went to see him perform, not any of his past dates or even that one girl he was seeing semi-seriously for a couple months last year until she told him she wasn’t interested in him anymore. You’re the first one who’s made the effort, who’s told him that you would come and kept that promise. The flowers are just a happy reminder. 
As a celebration for completing their last show, Jungkook and some of the other juniors in his dance crew decide to go out the following weekend, determined to waste away their Saturday nights at a bar just off of campus where they can take as many shots of as many different types of alcohols as they want. The place even has soju, which makes Jungkook’s heart happy. 
Despite the temptation to drink until his brain is empty, however, Jungkook holds off. He’s got a lot of work tomorrow, most of it consisting of editing the footage you have for the project, and doesn’t really feel like staring at a computer for eight hours straight with a headache. So he limits himself. For the most part. 
“Who was that girl that came to the show?” One of his friends, Andrew, asks as he downs another shot of what is undoubtedly vodka, if the smell is anything to go by. “With the flowers?”
“Is she your girlfriend?” Jesse pipes up, red in the face from the alcohol in his system. He’s always been one to turn into a tomato after drinking. 
Jungkook chuckles awkwardly, shaking his head when the bartender offers him another shot glass full of soju. “No,” he says, forcing a laugh. “Just a friend.”
“I don’t know, you guys looked pretty close to me,” Andrew points out, like it wasn’t already obvious enough that Jungkook is head over heels for you. 
“She and I are working on a film project together,” Jungkook explains, though that does absolutely nothing to convince his friends of your completely platonic relationship. 
“Sounds fun,” Jesse says, swallowing another shot and wincing. “It was nice of her to bring you flowers. My girlfriend didn’t do that.”
“Shut up, your girlfriend is studying abroad in Paris right now,” Andrew says, giving Jesse a good-natured shove. “I’m gonna tell her you said that.”
“What, please don’t—”
“She’s not my girlfriend, guys,” Jungkook repeats himself, feeling his cheeks heat up the longer the conversation drags on. He chalks it up to the soju in his system and the fact that it feels like a sauna in here. “Seriously, we’re just friends. People can be friends and bring each other flowers.”
Jesse pumps his fist in the air. “Yeah!” He rounds on Andrew. “Where are my flowers, hey Andrew?”
The two of them start bickering as Jungkook laughs, shaking his head fondly. At least he’s not drunk, so he can remember nights like these, ones where he’s drinking with his stupid idiot friends, celebrating a show well done. 
Jungkook stays at the bar until eleven that night before he makes the executive decision to go home and sleep, because as much as he would like to party until three in the morning, he’s got a pile of work that’s telling him to be a real adult. So he bids his friends goodbye and begins to make the trek back to his apartment, passing by the row of frat houses on his way. 
Even though he’s out on the sidewalk, Jungkook can feel the ground rumble from the music, every frat on the block joining together to make some booming, bass monster. From here he can see the flashing blue and purple lights in the windows, see the brothers standing on the steps of each house and turning away whoever they deem unfit to enter. 
In a weird way, it makes Jungkook nostalgic. Reminiscent of when he was a freshman, when he would group up with all of the people in his hall and parade around the frat row on Saturday nights like they owned the place, getting drunk on shitty tequila and jumping until they sweat out their body fluids. He remembers those nights in flashes, bits and pieces that make up his memory of freshman year as a whole. Remembers kissing other girls, other girls kissing him. Remembers the way he would lock lips with them for a second and then forget about it by the next day. 
Jungkook wonders why he ever thought he would meet his soulmate at a frat party. 
He’s just passing the last frat house now, nodding to the guy on the step when they accidentally meet eyes, when he hears you call his name. 
“Jungkook!”
He whips around to see you on the other side of the road, waving at him excitedly while your friends all laugh, sending smiles Jungkook’s way. 
Jungkook isn’t exactly sure what the protocol is for a scenario like this, so he does what he thinks is right and waves back. 
“Come over here!” You shout at him, loosely gesturing for him to join your group. Jungkook is hesitant, not sure if that’s necessarily the best course of action because even from here he can tell that you’re drunk, leaning over to one side and giggling at nothing. But even if he isn’t sure what will happen he can’t help but fall into the way you’re beaming at him, waving excitedly because you saw him on the street and you wanted to say hello.
He’s never been able to resist you. 
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” He says as he jogs over, greeting the rest of your friends with a patient smile. 
“Went out with my friends,” you say. Jungkook can smell the alcohol on your lips. “And then I saw you, which made me happy!”
You stumble over nothing, shoes skipping as they drag along the pavement, and before any of your friends can react Jungkook is reaching his arms out, catching you before you fall flat on your face. Your hands press against his torso as he lifts you back to your feet, and all Jungkook can do is pray that you can’t hear the way his heart races, beat drumming in his ears. You giggle in his hold, disoriented but not at all uneasy, looking up at him as your eyes sparkle in the glow of the streetlamps. 
“Thanks,” you manage to cough out. 
“Sure,” Jungkook says, breathless. He stands you up and tries to let you go, but you keep your hands tight around his wrists. “I think we need to get you home.”
“Can you come with me?” You ask innocently, eyes wide. 
“Y/N…” One of your friends says, voice hesitant. She places a hand on your shoulder, looking concerned. Jungkook doesn’t take any offense to it, he doesn’t know your friends well and imagines that they would much prefer being the ones to drop you back at your place. 
You shrug her off. “No, it’s okay, Ruby,” you assure your friend, hand inching down Jungkook’s wrist until it rests firmly within his palm. “I’ll go with him.”
Ruby eyes Jungkook suspiciously and her gaze is so intense that it actually makes him doubt his ability to walk you home for a moment. But you seem intent on walking with him, and the sooner you go home the better, so Ruby relents and lifts her hand from your shoulder. “Alright, if you want to.” She keeps her eyes trained on Jungkook. “Text me when you’re back.”
“I will, I will,” you say, brushing her off and waving her away. “Let’s go, Jungkook. I’m sleepy.”
“Okay, come on,” he says. You smile happily at your friends as you say goodbye, cheerful and drunk and tired, all at once, and you begin to walk towards your apartment. 
“I’m glad you’re here,” you tell him, positively filter-less. 
“I’m glad I’m here, too,” Jungkook assures you. “What did you have to drink tonight?”
“Not sure,” you admit happily. “Just a lot.”
“I can tell.” Jungkook nods. “Were you at a frat party?”
“Several,” you correct him. “They weren’t that fun but at least the drinks were free.”
“Why were you at a frat party if you don’t like them?” Jungkook asks you, nose scrunched up. You certainly aren’t the kind of person to hide your distaste for things. That is something that Jungkook is intimately familiar with. 
You shrug. “It’s the cheapest place to get drunk.”
“Why did you want to get drunk?” This is seeming more and more out-of-character for you. Going to a place you despise, taking shots until you can’t walk straight, meandering around campus with Jungkook. All of these are things Jungkook could never in a million years picture you doing out of free will. 
Well, all of them except maybe the last one. You did come to his dance show, after all. 
You sigh. It’s thick and heavy and Jungkook has a feeling you won’t want to divulge any more. “I just wanted to forget.”
But the curiosity is eating at him. 
“Forget what?”
Your grip on his hand tightens. Jungkook fully expects you to dodge the question like you’ve dodged all of the ones prior, say something else to change the topic so you can sweep this discussion under the rug like all of the other ones you’ve had. But you don’t. 
Instead, you say, “You wanna know why I don’t love love the way you do?”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Jungkook quickly assures you. 
“I had better options than this place,” you say, voice hollow and empty. “There were better universities that accepted me. Ones with higher-ranked film programs and bigger scholarships. I could have gone to any one of them and been just as happy. Maybe more.”
“But you didn’t,” Jungkook clarifies. 
“My ex-boyfriend goes to school ten minutes away from here,” you say, words that are most certainly news to Jungkook. You had a boyfriend? “He and I dated all throughout high school. I thought I was gonna marry him.”
The words sound so sad. It sounds like they don’t even belong to you. Like you’re recalling the memories of a different person, someone you’ve killed and buried, someone you were certain you would never have to face again. Yourself. Your past self. 
“And then he broke up with me at the beginning of last year and it was too late to transfer out.” Your words are slurred and garbled, like all you want is to get over with saying them in the first place. It’s not a dramatic revelation. It’s not something you’re crying about, sobbing into Jungkook’s chest as you remember, miserable, a time where you were once happy. You just sound lifeless. 
Jungkook blinks at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. It doesn’t feel right for him to speak up. Not when you’ve just revealed to him something so personal, so drunk that you probably won’t even remember saying anything when you wake up tomorrow morning. 
What is he supposed to do with this knowledge? What is he supposed to say? To do? It’s not like Jungkook can change your past. It’s not even as if he can change the near future. Your project is almost finished—the semester is almost over. And then you will return to the time where you never even knew each other. 
“You can say something,” you tell him.
“What do you want me to say?” Jungkook says. 
“Something to make me feel better, because now I’m sad,” you request simply. “Seeing you made me happy.”
“Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and smile, then,” he muses to himself. 
“No, please keep talking,” you plead, leaning into his body with your bottom lip puffed out, eyes big and round and desperate. “Listening to you gets me to stop thinking about this stuff.”
Hearing that, Jungkook says the first thing that comes to mind. And that is, “You don’t have to think about that stuff anymore at all.”
“Hmm?” You murmur into his chest. Jungkook sees your apartment building up ahead. Just another block or so. 
“Well, that was your old love story,” he begins tentatively. Jungkook’s almost fully sober by now but he feels like he won’t ever get another opportunity to say this, and maybe whatever soju is left in his system is enough to get him through this conversation. Enough for him to muster up the confidence to tell you what he’s been wanting to tell you for a while now. 
Even if you forget it by tomorrow. He knows this is his only chance. 
“And it didn’t have a happy ending, but that’s okay. Because ours will.” 
You’re just coming up to your apartment complex, the rusted gold doors of the entrance sticking out against the beige of the building and the sidewalk, shimmering in the light of the streetlamps. You pause right outside, taking cover underneath the red awning above your heads. Looking up at him, you blink expectantly. 
“How do I know you mean that?” You ask. 
He almost does it. 
Jungkook doesn’t really know what washes over him in that moment, what takes his heart and mind prisoner for a split second, grip tight and unforgiving. But he’s staring straight into your watery eyes, glossy and glimmery and glowing, lost in the way you press your lips together, the way you gaze up at him and wait for him to tell you what he’s always wanted to say, and he almost does it. His hands press at your sides, holding you close, like he’s afraid that if he lets you go you’ll vanish without another trace and this night will all have been for naught. 
But he doesn’t. 
He doesn’t for a lot of reasons. You’re drunk. When you wake up tomorrow, you will not remember this conversation. But Jungkook will. And if he does it, if he kisses you, if he presses his lips to yours it will be burned into his thoughts, carved into his heart, and you will be none the wiser. Jungkook can’t do that to himself. And he can’t do that to you, either. He will never take advantage of your company. He never has.
“Because,” Jungkook says instead, having hesitated for far too long. “I promise you.”
It’s good enough for him. 
He tucks you into bed at 12:17AM that night, feet padding along your hardwood floor so he doesn’t wake up your neighbors, guiding you to your bedroom and reminding you to text Ruby that you made it home safely. Jungkook’s never gotten a very good look at your place, and even now it’s hard to make out most things without the main ceiling lights on, but he doesn’t really want to snoop. Even though you invited him in, he still feels like he’s intruding. You’ve always been so private. There were a lot of things said tonight that Jungkook is going to have to reckon with. 
Once you’re curled up beneath your sheets, eyes drooping, Jungkooks turns off the light on your nightstand and nearly, just about nearly, presses his lips to your forehead. He manages to avoid doing that, too. 
Instead, he pulls up your duvet and heads towards the main room, making a beeline for your front door. But before he can leave the room, he hears you mumble out his name. 
“Jungkook?” You call, voice groggy. 
“Yeah?” He looks back at you from where he stands in your door frame, one hand on the knob, ready to pull it closed. 
You smile, eyes fluttering. “Thank you,” you say. 
Jungkook grins. 
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The next morning you wake up with a pounding headache and three missed calls from Ruby, which undoubtedly means that something positively terrible happened last night. Unfortunately, you have no idea what happened at all last night, good or terrible, so whatever Ruby has to say will be news to you. 
Rubbing your eyes as you wrack your brain in the hopes of figuring out how you even ended up back at your apartment (when you swear you told Ruby you would stay at hers), you press on Ruby’s contact and call her. 
“Y/N? Hello? Are you there?” Ruby answers on the first ring. 
“I’m here,” you mumble out, words jumped and barely intelligible. You wince as your eyes adjust to the harsh blue light of your phone screen, squinting as you look at the time. 
Shit, it’s 11:43AM and you’re meeting Jungkook for coffee at noon. 
“Good, I called you three times last night after you texted,” Ruby wastes no time diving into her interrogation. 
“Why?” You ask, scrambling out of bed with your phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear. Your head throbs so you quickly take some Ibuprofen, splash your face with water, and start looking for something clean you can put on. 
“Because texting me ‘home’ is not enough!” Ruby exclaims. “Jungkook walked you home last night, I wanted to make sure you were tucked in bed and feeling alright.”
You frown. You don’t remember that. Granted, you don’t remember a lot of things, but you can’t recall Jungkook walking you back. You saw him last night? You didn’t even know. Scratching your head, a part of you vaguely pictures him standing in your apartment in the dark, resting against the door frame to your bedroom in the warm yellow light of the lamp on your nightstand. Can just barely see him tucking you into bed, placing the sheets over your figure and making you text Ruby that you’re home. You thought you were just imagining it at the time, but it must have happened anyway. 
“Jungkook walked me home?”
“Yeah, you insisted,” Ruby says. “You probably don’t remember, though.”
“No,” you say dumbly. 
“Well, I appreciate you texting me that you were home but I would have preferred something more explanatory,” scolds Ruby. “I thought maybe Jungkook was gonna do something.”
“Oh my goodness, no,” you immediately interject, pulling on your shoes and stuffing your laptop into your backpack. Just the thought of Jungkook doing something like that sends your stomach for a whirl. “He would never do that. I trust him.”
“I mean, I see that now,” Ruby points out. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” you promise. “Everything’s good.”
“Alright, if you say so,” Ruby says, still sounding a bit like an overprotective mother. You love her, though. You know she just wants the best for you. “Take it easy today, okay? You had a lot to drink last night.”
“I will,” you assure her. “I’m just on my way to meet up with Jungkook now. Getting coffee.”
“Make sure to eat, too,” Ruby reminds you. “And tell Jungkook that I said thanks for walking you home.”
“Anything else, Mom?”
You can practically see Ruby frowning on the other end. “Oh, shut up. I’ll see you, okay?”
She bids you goodbye just as you’re dashing out the door, your usual stride quickening so you make it to the cafe in time, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting. You make it there in a record five minutes, pulling open the door frantically just as the clock strikes noon. 
Jungkook’s already there, of course, sitting by a little round table in the corner of the room with two americanos on the table. He waves when he sees you standing by the entrance, and the mere sight of him makes you smile, shoulders relaxing. 
“Hey,” you greet, a little out of breath as you settle into the chair across from him. 
“Hey,” Jungkook says back. “How are you feeling?”
“My head is killing me, but other than that I’m alright,” you admit, taking a sip of the drink. It’s piping hot but just the right amount of scalding, warming your insides after a night of filling them with pure poison. 
“Good.” He grins. “It’s nice to see your face.”
“Oh, yeah, speaking of which,” you say while still on the topic, “did you walk me home last night? I can’t remember.”
Jungkook nods. “Yeah, I bumped into you and your friends while I was on my way back from a bar.”
You wince. The fact that you don’t even remember that happening tells you enough. “I was super drunk, wasn’t I?”
Jungkook, nice as always, says, “I’ve seen worse.” It only makes you feel the slightest bit better. 
“Hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing,” you say, knowing you have a tendency to lose your filter almost entirely when you get wasted, letting any sort of mental reasoning fly out the door the moment you down another shot. And the thought of having told Jungkook something deeply humiliating or personal, or even him witnessing something stupid, makes you feel weirdly exposed. 
Jungkook freezes for a split second, almost like he’s buffering, like he’s about to say something but it’s just taking him an extra step to get the words out of his mouth. Then he takes a quick sip of his americano and shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. You were just very drunk. And clingy.”
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that,” you apologize. You can’t imagine the hell you must have put Jungkook through last night. 
Jungkook laughs. “It’s okay. I’m glad we got you home safe.”
“Me, too.” You nod. You send a grateful smile his way. “Thanks for walking me, by the way. I really appreciate it. Ruby says thanks, too.”
“Anytime,” Jungkook says. It doesn’t sound like something that people say just to say it. The way that people say ‘anytime’ just so they can be friendly and amicable. He says it and he means it, says it genuinely and honestly, like it’s a real promise that he’s making. That he would be happy to walk you home again. No matter the hour. No matter how drunk you are. No matter what he’s doing. 
And that means a lot to you. 
“We should probably wrap up filming soon, huh?” You say, getting onto the topic at hand. Of course, the project is the whole reason you’re even talking to each other in the first place. “It’s due in three weeks.”
“Yeah, I was thinking of another outing? And maybe one more thing with Taehyung?” Jungkook suggests. 
You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “‘Another outing’, Jungkook? What exactly do you have in mind?”
He grins. 
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This time, Jungkook is the one with the flowers. 
When you open your front door they’re the first thing you see, an enormous bouquet of an assortment of spring flowers in a variety of colors—pinks and purples and oranges and yellows—gripped neatly in Jungkook’s hand. They stick out against his otherwise rather formal attire, a simple black dress shirt and jeans, nice shoes that compliment his figure. Black truly is the world’s most slimming color, and Jungkook is no exception. He looks good. 
“For you, m’lady,” Jungkook says dramatically as he holds out the bouquet in front of him.
“How thoughtful of you,” you muse to yourself, grinning. You take the flowers and press your whole face into them, breathing in the fresh scent. “The one I gave you wasn’t nearly this big.”
“Go big or go home,” Jungkook teases. “You look nice, by the way.”
“You always sound so surprised when you say that,” you comment snidely, shaking your head as you grab your bag from the shelf next to your door. “What are we doing tonight, Jeon? Gonna keep it a secret from me like last time?”
“That depends,” Jungkook says knowingly. “Do you like secrets?”
“You should know what I like by now,” you remark. 
“Then prepare to be wowed.” He grins, taking your hand in his as he pulls you out the door. 
The restaurant you go to this time does not require a ten minute drive to the center of town. Instead, it’s a five minute walk from campus and actually happens to be a place you’ve been to before. It’s a busy little thing on a Friday night, waiters bustling about with trays in their hands, people laughing and smiling under the dim light of the chandeliers. You’ve only been here once, long ago, for a club dinner paid for by the finance chair, and for good reason. It’s not the kind of place cheap college students looking to get the most food for the least amount of money go to. 
“Isn’t this a bit out of budget for our rom-com?” You ask as the host seats you at your table, a little booth in the middle of the restaurant, lanterns resting on the corners of the seats. 
“I thought this was a mockumentary,” Jungkook jokes. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, resisting the smile that fights its way across your face. Trust you to make that sort of blunder in front of him. “I mean it, though. This place is expensive.”
“It’s manageable,” Jungkook promises. “I’ve been saving up. Plus, I thought you deserved a nice night out.”
“How generous of you.”
“Oh, come on, I know you’re excited,” he narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t have to act like a stone-cold robot anymore.”
“Well…” you suppose enough is enough. Jungkook can see right through you anyway, so there’s no point in keeping up this indifferent facade of yours. “Only because you’re treating me so nicely.”
“Just please don’t order the steak,” he requests simply. 
You laugh. “No problem. Maybe we could just share a couple of appetizers?”
Jungkook likes the sound of that. 
Luckily, this is not one of those restaurants where the appetizers cost an arm and a leg and are the size of your pinky finger. You and Jungkook split three different ones, happy to scoop out portions for each of you and indulge in them together. 
Dinner dates—of which this is only sort of one—are always awkward because you spend half of the time shoving food into your mouth, but you and Jungkook don’t seem to mind the silence at all. Only, Jungkook does look sort of like he’s holding back.
“Is this enough food for you?” You ask him halfway through, distantly remembering how he absolutely devoured a whole plate of pasta last time and still having enough room in his stomach to finish yours. 
“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks over a mouthful of vegetables. 
“You ate so much at the Italian place, I just want to make sure you aren’t still hungry,” you point out. 
“Oh.” Jungkook pauses, swallowing down the bite in his mouth. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”
“Yeah, of course,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should say anything else. But what the hell, right? It’s Jungkook. It’s Jungkook and he walked you home when you were drunk, he gave you flowers, he let you borrow his jacket. And you feel as though you must return the favor. “Anytime.”
He smiles. 
Despite the pure ecstasy you both experience when eating delicious food, Jungkook makes sure not to waste this time and grabs a few frames of you eating with his camera. He always seems to have that with him whenever he’s with you, hanging around his neck or stuffed into his backpack or crammed into his pants pocket. Sort of makes you wonder just how much footage the two of you have of each other. 
He insists on paying but you send him some money anyway, just because letting him shoulder the burden of a place as expensive (for college students, at least) as this just doesn’t sit right with you. Whenever he receives the Venmo notification on his phone, Jungkook frowns and says that he’ll send that money back to you, but he never does and you can tell that he really does appreciate it. 
You don’t think you have any plans on stopping that for a while. 
The only downside of going to this restaurant is that there is no gorgeous, light-strung park in the vicinity the two of you can wander around. Just your campus, which you have no doubt walked a thousand times over, and the streets surrounding it, which you have memorized like the back of your hand. 
It almost makes you think that Jungkook is just going to drop you back off at your place and the night will end there, but you know better than to expect something like that from Jungkook. Instead, as you’re walking, you point out the cafe that you and Ruby always go to, see that it’s closing in half-an-hour, and Jungkook decides then and there that it’s your next destination. 
“You’ve never been here before?” You ask when you walk inside, eyes immediately drifting to the display of pastries beside the register. 
“I’m not normally on this side of campus,” Jungkook admits. “You’re the only reason I’m ever here.”
“Then hopefully after finding this place, you’ll have two reasons,” you say cheerfully. The baristas behind the counter know you on a first-name basis, are happy to help you out even though they’ve no doubt been working long hours and are ready to close up shop and go home. 
You split a tiramisu and sit at that same corner table you and Ruby always pick, empty now that it’s so late at night. Other than the employees, you and Jungkook are the only ones in here, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, filled to the brim with people, the smell of cooked food wafting through the air. 
 The tiramisu isn't as fresh as it would be bright and early in the morning, but you suppose that that just means you and Jungkook will have to come back. Besides, Jungkook obviously does not seem to mind, scarfing it down ruthlessly. You’re in and out just as they close up shop, the employees bidding you goodbye like old friends, sending you on your way. There’s not really much else either of you have planned for tonight, and Jungkook isn’t coming up with any new ideas as he checks his phone. Instead, you just begin to head back to your apartment, all wrapped up in each other. You place your hand in his own and feel yourself relax when he squeezes, a silent little reminder that he’s still here, and that so are you.
Funnily enough, holding hands feels natural to you at this point. 
“Tonight was fun,” you comment, breaking the quiet.
“Yeah, glad we could do this,” Jungkook agrees. “Makes me kind of sad to know that this thing is almost over.”
“What, the project?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Yeah. And the class. And the semester. It’s kind of scary. We’ll be seniors next year.”
You chuckle. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I still have no idea what I’m going to do after we graduate.”
“You don’t have to know everything,” Jungkook reassures you. “As long as you’re happy with what you have now.”
“Are you?” You inquire, looking up to meet his eyes. 
Jungkook beams down at you. “I am.”
The walk from the cafe to your apartment is short, just under five minutes, but it feels like it takes you an hour, footsteps slow and languid, like neither of you want the night to end. You hit every red light, round every corner, drawing out the evening for as long as you can. Unfortunately, there is only so much you can do on a five-minute walk, and before you know it, you’re home.
“This is me,” you say, stopping outside the gold doors of your apartment complex. “Thanks again for tonight.”
“Anytime,” Jungkook says, a common thread in your conversations. 
“Really?” You ask, skeptical. “Our project’s almost over.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to stop doing this,” Jungkook says. 
You narrow your eyes. “What are you implying, huh, Jungkook?”
“This.”
Before you know it, he’s wrapping one hand around your waist and pulling you in close to him, your palms splayed out against his broad, toned chest, pressing his lips to yours. You gasp a little into the feeling, somewhat shocked he would dare be so bold even after all this time, but find yourself sinking into the touch. He tastes like coffee and cream, like peppermint from his chapstick, like the wine you shared tonight. You cave into the way he holds you, hands wrapped around your body, palms pressed firmly against your figure. He holds you like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to remind himself that you’re real and here and that you are kissing him back, like he’ll forget once the moment ends. 
But he need not worry about that. 
When you part, you don’t even bother wiping off the stupid smile on your face, kiss-drunk and filled with glee. It’s been a long time since you felt this way. And Jungkook makes you feel things you don’t even think you can explain. 
“How bold of you,” you comment, noses touching, barely an inch away from each other. 
“I figured I’d shoot my shot,” Jungkook says. He shrugs, pretending to be casual, but you can see the way he’s grinning, beaming, down at you. 
“You scored,” you remind him.
“How observant of you,” teases Jungkook in return. You pout a little at his playful mockery, heart fond. “Think we can do it again?”
“Hmm, I would tone down the ego first,” you say, already leaning back in to press your lips against his. 
“Never.” He smiles wickedly. 
It’s a quicker kiss this time, a short peck against his cherry red mouth, but it still makes your heart beat something terribly fierce. 
“See you soon?” You ask when you finally pull away, knowing that as much as you’d like to, you can’t just stand out here kissing each other forever. 
Jungkook nods, cheeks pink and warm to the touch. He looks so sleek in his formal black outfit, crisp button-down and slacks, hair all styled, but the way he’s grinning at you makes him look so young, so sublimely happy. It’s nice. 
“Anytime.”
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“There’s my favorite couple!” Taehyung greets excitedly when he swings open the door to his apartment to reveal you and Jungkook standing on the other side. 
“What’s it to you?” You comment snidely as he lets you inside, the black sheet still taped up along his wall. It looks a little more wrinkled than when you last saw it. 
“Oh, nothing,” Taehyung singsongs. He definitely knows a lot more than he cares to tell either you or Jungkook, but whatever. The project’s almost over and he’s almost finished with university entirely. “You guys are just cute together, that’s all.”
“Like you even know the half of it.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes. 
Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows. “Ooh, do tell.” He grins that greasy, comic-book-villain grin of his as he starts moving his bar stools back to where the sheet lines his cream-colored wall. 
“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” Jungkook poses, making you laugh from where you’re seated on the couch, watching Jungkook set up his tripod in exactly the place he wants it. You smile at him as you recline against Taehyung’s poor old leather couch, so worn-down from use that the back cushions fold in when you press against them, and Jungkook peers out from behind the camera to blow you a kiss. 
You send him one back without even needing to think. 
Taehyung misses the whole scene, but no doubt he’ll be putting two and two together pretty soon. You and Jungkook agreed that for the last interview you would be questioned together, long before Jungkook actually managed to romance you off your feet, and there’s not a doubt in your mind that the two of you being interviewed side-by-side will make things much more interesting. 
Nevertheless, Jungkook sets up the camera and sends a thumbs-up your way when he’s ready, Taehyung sitting on the bar stool just outside of the frame with a couple of index cards in his hand. 
“Let’s do this,” you say, hauling yourself onto the seat. Jungkook does the same shortly after, scooching onto the one next to you as you stare at Taehyung, waiting for him to start. 
“Looking forward to this one?” Taehyung asks knowingly. 
You shrug nonchalantly. “Just a little.”
“Excellent. Shall we begin?”
You and Jungkook nod. 
“Alright. Well, this is presumably the last thing the two of you will be filming for your project. How are you feeling about it?”
“It turned out better than I thought it would,” you admit. It will come as a shock to no one that you did not have very high hopes for this project when it was first assigned. 
“Of course it did, I’m your partner,” Jungkook teases, poking you in your side. “Would you ever doubt me?”
“Always,” you say.
Taehyung chuckles. “Sounds like it’s been good so far. Did you enjoy filming it?”
You nod. “Yeah, it was actually kind of fun. Except for when Jungkook spilled coffee all over me, that was not cool.” You turn to face Jungkook directly, and all he does when you say his name is wink and point at you. 
“It was for the rom-com, I don’t know what you expected,” Jungkook said. “I gave you my jacket, too.”
“How gentlemanly.”
Taehyung chuckles, warm and low. “I’m sure Jungkook learned his lesson,” he muses. “What was your favorite thing to film?”
Not when I randomly texted you five minutes before I showed up at your door to make you ask me questions about how I feel, you think to yourself. Jungkook still doesn’t know, but you think you’ll put it into the movie just for the hell of it, so he’ll find out then. Find out that you were grappling with your feelings for him long before you ever let on.
“The serenade was a blast, a special shoutout to the Eighth Notes for doing that for me,” Jungkook says immediately. Obviously that is at the top of his list. “Plus, I just like seeing Y/N all flustered.”
“Shut up, you’re so annoying,” you chide. “I guess the serenade was kind of cute. I liked going out together, though. On our not-date.”
Jungkook objects to that instantly. “It was a date, Y/N!”
You look back at him, equally as scandalized as he. “Whose turn is it to talk?”
“Mine, actually,” Taehyung interjects. “Did you like going out together?”
You sigh a little, wondering if you’re really about to turn into a softie in front of a camera for a movie to be shown to your twenty classmates and professor. “Yeah,” you say, real and true because that’s what you agreed on, you and Jungkook. To be candid. To be honest. To say how you felt. Really. “It was really nice. I hadn’t gone out with someone like that in a long time.”
“And were you happy because of the project, or because of Jungkook?”
“Well,” you begin, not exactly sure where to start. “I guess, it’s like… you know, I didn’t even know Jungkook before this project. I mean, I knew who he was, he would always respond to my discussion board posts and object to everything I said in class. But I didn’t know him as a person. But as we worked on this project together, planning and filming and editing, I started to. And we did so many things together. And I guess I just really enjoyed the time we did spend as a pair.”
“Would you say the same, Jungkook?”
“Yes,” Jungkook says easily. “That’s what I wanted. To get to know Y/N, to spend time with her. I was glad we had this project. Otherwise, we might never have done something like this.”
“You both seem very happy.”
“I think we are. This project was actually sort of a blessing in disguise. I know him a lot better, now,” you say. “I’m glad that I do. He makes me smile, and laugh, and I always feel happy when he’s around. I don’t know. He did it, somehow.”
“Jungkook?”
“It wasn’t just me. Y/N and I did this together. We made this. This project. Us. It wasn’t just her, or just me. It’s ours.” Jungkook grins.
“Are you glad you did this project?”
Of course. It was fun, and I liked filming it, and I feel like I got something really important out of it. I know it’s just a short rom-com mockumentary, but it really feels like there was a happy ending, you know? A happily ever after.”
“You seem really certain about that.”
“Well,” Jungkook says with a little scoff, “what else would you call it?”
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“As you can see, obviously Y/N fell head over heels in love with me thanks to this wonderful project—”
“Why are you always so full of yourself—?”
“Hey, you’re ruining the voiceover! As I said, as you can see, Y/N fell head over heels in love with me, but that wasn’t just because of my dashing good looks and amazing singing skills.”
“The ends of your hair look like hay—”
“It was because we were honest with each other, and because we spent meaningful moments together, and because we kept our hearts open. And I guess that’s the truth of it all, isn’t it? Love, romance, relationships? If you close yourself off, you’ll never get to experience them. But if you take every opportunity with an open mind, then you never know what might happen. Like falling in love with your discussion board nemesis.”
“Who, me?”
“Just let me finish, come on. There’s like one paragraph left. I know this was a mockumentary, not a scripted rom-com with professional actors and screenwriters and a whole team of editors. But that was the whole point. To make it real. And to make it between two people who aren’t just characters on a screen. We’re real people, and this happened to us. And it makes us happy. And it can happen to you, too. I think we all learn something every time we watch a new movie. Whether it be about loss, or promises, or other people. This time, we learned about love. Real love. How it can be rocky and strange and come straight out of left field. But also how happy endings aren’t just for movies and fairytales. We all deserve them. And Y/N and I found our own.”
“Are you gonna say it?”
“And so… they lived happily ever after.”
You look up at the screen, expecting to see the credits roll, but instead it’s a shot of the two of you kissing outside of your apartment building, a shot of you wrapping your arms around him as you press your lips to his. It lasts for only a few seconds, but you find yourself entranced in the moment, shocked that Jungkook somehow managed to capture it on film. He didn’t even have his camera with him that night. 
Pollack turns on the lights in your classroom as your fellow classmates applaud, all of them looking genuinely pleased that your rom-com had such a wonderful ending. Pollack herself looks rather proud, nodding to herself as she smiles at the two of you. 
“You filmed us kissing?” You hiss to Jungkook as your classmates clap, hoping the sound of it will drown out your conversation. 
“I got Taehyung to,” Jungkook whispers back. “Why?”
“I just… I thought that night was just for us.”
“The rest of it is. But I thought the kiss would be a cute way to end it. You know, happy ending and everything.”
Alright, if Jungkook insists. You nod, tensing up slightly. You hadn’t even noticed Taehyung down the street, standing behind some utility pole with the camera raised to his eye. Had Jungkook texted him in secret? Asked him to meet you outside of your apartment? Was he planning on kissing you from the very beginning?
You shake your head, willing away the thoughts as Pollack commends the two of you for a job well done. Jungkook and you stand at the front of the room for a few more seconds, getting stared down by your fellow classmates while Pollack speaks. The period ends just as she finishes up, the minutes changing the moment she closes her mouth. Within a minute or so, the whole class has emptied out, some of them congratulating you and Jungkook on the way out. 
“I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Jungkook says, eyes bright and filled with that same wonder he’s always got. 
“Yeah,” you say distantly, nodding to him as he disappears out the door. 
“You did an excellent job, Y/N,” Pollack praises, and it goes right to your head, if you’re being honest. “It was brilliant.”
“Thanks,” you say, suddenly rather shy. “That means a lot.”
“Don’t tell anyone else this,” she says, voice quiet, “but I was secretly hoping the two of you would fall in love.”
“Pollack!”
She laughs. “What? I thought you’d make a cute couple. And you do, so clearly it all worked out anyway.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s against the code of conduct,” you say, even though you know you can’t be too mad at her. After all, you wouldn’t have Jungkook if it weren’t for her. 
“Y/N, I’m tenured. I don’t care.”
“Wait…” you pause, eyes narrowing, “how many of your students have you set up with each other?”
Pollack grins. “I never reveal my secrets.”
Your mouth drops open. 
She chuckles, shooing you out the door. “Go on, go be with your boyfriend. You can tell him you both get A pluses for your project. It was excellent. One of the best I’ve seen in a very long time.”
“Thanks, Pollack,” you say, smiling gratefully. “You’re the best.”
She points at you proudly as you head out the door. “So are you.”
Jungkook is waiting by the tables where you always sit, half a flight down from your classroom. He’s leaning against the edge of them as he scrolls mindlessly through his phone, so engrossed in the Instagram explore page that he doesn’t see you walk up. 
“Guess what,” you say, getting all up in his face, just because you can. 
“What,” Jungkook says, an eyebrow raised. 
“We got an A plus on our project!” You exclaim happily, cheering. Jungkook laughs at your exuberant reaction, watches as you jump around, clapping loudly. 
“Hell yeah, we did that!” Jungkook holds his hand up for a high five, one you gladly take. Your palms smack together and the sound reverberates around the hallway. 
“You know, you and I—” you begin, placing your palms on his cheeks as you pull yourself in for a kiss, “we make a pretty good team.”
“Only because you’re so good at editing,” Jungkook says. You’re both not too bad, if you do say so yourself, but since Jungkook did so much of the filming you thought it would be better if you carried more of the weight when it came to post-production. 
“Says you,” you tease, pressing your lips to his button nose. “The happy ending thing was a nice touch, I liked it. Makes me feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”
“I’m glad,” Jungkook says with a chuckle, admiring the way you beam at him. “You know, I was really worried that you might think we didn’t have a happy ending after all, especially after everything.”
“What do you mean?” You look at him curiously. 
“Well, I just really wanted to make sure that we had a happy ending, because you’ve been through so much.”
You pause in place, eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him. Been through so much? Does Jungkook know something you don’t? Wait, no, did you… did you tell him—?
“You knew?” You ask, the realization piercing you like an arrow. “All this time, and you never said anything?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen. 
“How long have you known?”
He winces. “Since I walked you home when you were drunk. You told me.”
You did?
Shit.
“And you didn’t think that maybe you should have told me that you knew? Especially when I asked you if I had said anything embarrassing?” You cry out, indignant. “What, were you just planning on never telling me?”
“I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to know that you had admitted all those things to me,” Jungkook admits, growing desperate. “They were really personal things, I thought you might react badly.”
“Oh, so you just decided to keep it a secret instead? Look how well that worked out.”
“What was I supposed to do, Y/N? I know you would have been upset.”
“Tell me!” You exclaim. “I asked you if I had said something embarrassing that night and you said I hadn’t. And I believed you. Better to have known then than now!”
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says.
“I can’t believe you wouldn’t just tell me. Didn’t we say we would be honest with each other? But instead, you just let me assume that all of the nice things you did for me were because you actually cared, and not because you felt bad for me?”
“I don’t feel bad for you!” Jungkook shouts. “I mean, I do, but that’s not why I took you out on dates and gave you flowers and held your hand. I do care about you.”
“Oh, so filming us kissing was just because you actually cared, too, right?”
“I don’t know why you’re so hung up about that,” Jungkook points out. 
“Because I thought it was a private moment,” you remind him. “You hadn’t filmed anything the whole night. I thought we were just going out on a date like two people who cared about each other did. Us kissing was personal. But you texted Taehyung and told him to show up with his camera anyway, right? Because you were planning on kissing me from the very beginning. Because you knew, Jungkook. You knew and you had absolutely no intention of telling me.”
“Y/N, wait, I didn’t do those things just because I pitied you,” Jungkook says, reaching out for your hand. 
You pull away. “You didn’t? Then why did you film us kissing, then?”
“Because…” he flounders. You aren’t at all surprised. “Because—”
“Enough, Jungkook. I get it,” you stop him, shaking your head. “Everything we’ve done since that first date we had, when we went to the Italian place, everything since then—it was all played up. Because you felt bad for me. I had a shitty experience with love and you wanted to make me feel better. Whatever.”
“Y/N, it wasn’t like that,” Jungkook chases after you as you begin to walk down the stairs, towards the exit. “I didn’t pity you. I still don’t. I did those things because I care about you, and I wanted you to be happy.”
“Well, you got what you wanted,” you say, arms crossed over your shoulders as you push your way out the door. “I was so happy when I was with you.”
“Wait, Y/N—”
“Bye, Jungkook.”
The door slams shut behind you. 
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“How many finals do you still have left? You finished your movie, right?”
Ruby is stirring herself a cup of earl grey tea as she sits down on the couch next to you, where you’re very obviously sulking as you scroll through the Feel Good Rom-Coms category on Netflix. 
“I just have a couple essays and a presentation,” you mumble out. “You?”
“Ugh, I still have all of my final exams to take,” Ruby tells you with a thick, heavy sigh. Clearly, she doesn't feel like talking about them now. Or at all. “The life of a biology major.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wants to be a doctor, not me,” you remind her crudely. “You better know your shit, or I’m never taking my kids to your practice.”
“Rude,” Ruby says. “There goes my family and friends discount offer.”
You laugh to yourself, a small smile inching its way across your lips. Ruby’s always known how to brighten your day, even when you feel like absolute shit. 
“What are we watching, hmm? I’m cool with anything.”
“I don’t know.” You shrug, flicking through all of the rom-com options and feeling very unhappy with all of them. “I feel like you’ve seen all of these.”
“Yeah,” Ruby says. “Whenever I’m not studying, I’m watching Netflix or The Bachelor.”
You nod. Maybe you’ll just settle on some old NCIS reruns and call it a night. 
“Oh!” Ruby exclaims suddenly, a lightbulb going off above her head. “How about we watch your movie? The rom-com you did with Jungkook! I haven’t seen it yet.”
“I don’t know…” You begin, the mere thought putting a bad taste in your mouth. For obvious reasons. 
“Come on, please? I really want to see it, you were so excited about it,” Ruby begs, getting all antsy as she climbs all over you, literally pulling your arm to get you to cave in. “It’s short, too, isn’t it? Like forty-five minutes long? We can watch whatever you want afterwards. Please.”
You huff out a breath. If it were up to you, you would move that film onto a flash drive and toss it into a dumpster on fire. But it’s not just up to you. Ruby has been asking you about it since the day you told her you were filming it, and now all she wants to do is see the final result. And it’s only forty-five minutes long. What’s that when compared to the rest of your life?
“Fine,” you relent, not wanting to fight about it any longer. “Let me get my computer.”
Ruby cheers. 
You bring your laptop over to your coffee table, turning off the ceiling lights as Ruby tucks herself underneath a blanket, hands warmed by her steaming cup of tea. You pull up the movie file and, taking a deep breath, press play. 
It opens with your first interview with Taehyung, a muted, royalty-free lo-fi hip-hop song playing in the background. You had edited it so that it would jump back and forth between your answer and Jungkook’s, highlighting the contrast between the two of you. It was mostly for comedic purposes, just because seeing you deadpan about how love doesn’t exist and then quickly switching to Jungkook wax poetic about it is amusing, but watching it now just makes you want to curl into yourself. 
You should have known that this would have never worked out. Should have kept that same jaded attitude. You let your guard down for one second and look at what’s happened to you.
The next scene that Jungkook shows is, of course, the moment he spills burning hot coffee all over you in the middle of the Starbucks, comedically panning up to your positively-flabbergasted face just to add to the shock factor. Next to you, Ruby laughs at the mishap, obviously amused by the fact that the two of you are now drenched in coffee and scrambling to clean up the mess. You try to focus your energy on how peeved you were at Jungkook after he did that, but get distracted the moment he films himself wrapping his denim jacket around you, placing it over your shoulders and making sure it’s just right. 
He didn’t have to do that, and the two of you both knew it. But still, he sent you off your class all bundled up in a jacket that smelled like him, smelled of that boyish aroma that you couldn’t get rid of, even when you put it in the wash with your lavender detergent. All of Jungkook’s clothes smelt like that no matter how much cologne he put on, always smelt woody and thick. It would consume you, that scent, a cloud surrounding your figure whenever you were near him. 
The movie keeps playing, and you keep thinking about how much of a fool you must look like in it now, all giggles and smiles as Jungkook sings Frankie Valli to you while he hands you a rose, that same sly little smile dotting his features. Hearing the song again makes you feel like you’re choking, like something’s smothering you, and you’re not sure what it is until you realize that it’s the sound of Jungkook’s voice. 
You haven’t heard him sing since he serenaded you. 
Then it’s your first date, the one Ruby told you to wear the yellow dress to (“Hey, I told you you looked amazing in it! Wow!” Ruby exclaims when she sees you). You remember when you edited this, putting the clips together of you eating at the restaurant, wandering around the park, posing underneath the trees, holding hands. You were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt while you were editing, grinning from ear to ear at all of the things the two of you did together. They were so picturesque, those scenes, so perfectly shot, so romantici—t did a fine job of convincing you that it was all real. 
You even put in the little clip of you and Taehyung talking. A mistake, now that you look back on it, of course. It was so vulnerable, so real, so candid and honest like you said you would be, and now it’s all blown up in your face. You must have looked like such an idiot to Jungkook when he saw this scene for the first time in class. You remember the wide-eyed look on his face when it popped up. Like he couldn’t even believe you had done this in the first place. 
Scoffing, you shake your head. You either. 
The rest of it you can hardly bear to watch. Just a wrap-up of your relationship, a compilation of all of the small moments you shared when you didn’t realize that Jungkook was filming, when you dared whip out your camera to shoot for a second or two. Little clips that jump from scene to scene, shots of you laughing and eating and skipping along campus as you held hands. It’s hard to reconcile the fact that it’s all over. 
You don’t even listen to the final interview, not bothering to pay attention to what you or Jungkook have to say when you were there, when you can recall every word he’s ever spoken to you at the drop of a hat. 
The truth is, you were always a goner for him. 
And look how well that played out. 
By the time the kissing scene comes up once more, you’re ready to set your whole laptop alight. 
The screen turns black as it ends, fading away into nothingness, the instrumental slowly disappearing alongside the image. You shut your laptop when it’s all over, a little too angry for your own good, but you wrestle the scowl off your face as you take a drink of water from the glass sitting on the table. 
“Wow,” Ruby says, speechless. She blinks at your closed laptop. 
“Did you like it?”
“I—I don’t even know what to say,” Ruby says, which is a first. “It was amazing, Y/N. Seriously. Gorgeous. Like, cinematographically? Stunning. The shit on Netflix isn’t even as good as that.”
Even if you did have to sit through your stupid movie one more time, the compliments make you feel a bit better. “Thanks,” you murmur. 
Ruby nods enthusiastically. “It was incredible. I’m just—I’m in awe. You and Jungkook have a gift, dude. It was seriously one of the best things I’ve watched in a really long time. And, like, not even in a cheesy, yucky rom-com kind of way. It was so… so genuine. So real. Wow.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“You’ll have to tell Jungkook, too,” Ruby says. “He did really well.”
“Yeah, he’s a great actor,” you say, a little too bitterly for your own good. 
“What do you mean?” Ruby raises an eyebrow your way. “I didn’t think he was acting at all. It looked pretty real to me.”
You frown. “It did?”
“I mean, yeah,” Ruby says with an honest nod. “I mean, you did tell me it was a mockumentary and not just a run-of-the-mill rom-com. So wasn’t everything supposed to be real, anyway?”
“Yes…” you trail off, unsure of the direction of this conversation.
“Well, if you ask me,” Ruby says, all matter-of-factly, “I’d say he definitely fell in love with you.”
Something rushes through you. Something warm and bright and full of energy. 
Hope. 
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Even though you have finished one of your finals early, finals week is still just as much of a slog as it always is. Three essays and two presentations deep, you aren’t finished any of them and the due dates are slowly creeping up on you, ready to pounce the moment the clock strikes twelve. 
Eh, it could be worse. You could be Ruby and have six timed, proctored final exams on biology, anatomy, and chemistry. So you suppose you can’t complain too much. 
Finals week sees you all holed up in your apartment like always, but more so this semester than any previous ones because you don’t feel like going to the library and risking seeing Jungkook there. Or anywhere, really. Since you presented on the last day of classes, you haven’t spoken since, and hopefully you can keep that streak going forever. You had made it until this semester without ever crossing paths despite being in the same major, so hopefully that luck will follow you. 
It’s almost midnight when you finally decide to call it quits for the night, having at least gotten mostly through two of your essays (just have to edit and proofread!) and worked on about half of your two presentations. Sighing, you get up from your couch and stretch, feeling your bones crack from sitting in the same place for hours on end. 
You lean over to the floor lamp by the edge of the couch, ready to flick it off and head to bed, when you hear something outside. 
“You’re just too good to be true…”
“Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
You freeze.
The voice is soft and mellow, a little muted because it’s making its way through your wooden door before it reaches your ears, but it is unrecognizable. Even without the acoustics of the Eighth Notes, you know who’s on the other side. 
“You’d be like Heaven to touch…”
“I wanna hold you so much…”
“At long last, love has arrived…”
“And I thank God I’m alive…”
Unable to resist, you wander to your front door, basking in the sound of him, in the way the notes float through the air as if on clouds, dancing along the walls as they sink into your brain. He sounds so sweet, voice warm like tea on a cold night, just singing his song on this empty, lonely night. But it’s not just his song, is it? 
It’s yours, too.
You pull open the door. 
“You’re just too good to be true,” Jungkook sings, a honeyed melody that calms the waves of your stormy heart, “can’t take my eyes off of you…”
But just because he’s here, serenading you once more, doesn’t mean he’s going to get it any easier from you. You fight to keep the smile off your face, pressing your lips together as you narrow your eyes at him. 
“I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night…”
“I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…”
He meets your eyes with his own, and they aren’t glinting in the way they normally do, the way that they do when he knows he’s doing something to grind your gears, when he’s got a trick up his sleep. They gleam like pearls as the dim glow of your apartment lights up his figure, warm yellow mixing with the caramel in his irises.
“Oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray…”
Oh, pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay…”
“And let me love you, baby…”
From behind him, Jungkook brings out a single red rose, twirling it between his fingers as he holds it out to you. 
“Let me love you…” He trails off there, voice delicate as vanishes into the chilly night air, disappearing between the two of you. 
You can’t help but take the flower from his hand. What else are you supposed to do?
“So?” Jungkook asks, hopeful. 
“Don’t think you can just show up at my apartment and woo me back by singing to me,” you chide, even though he definitely can. 
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says simply, because there really is nothing else to say. “I should have told you.”
“I watched our rom-com again,” you tell him. “I should have believed you when you said you cared about me.”
“I always did,” Jungkook says. “I just wanted you to know that love was real, and that it was there for you.”
“I should have known,” you agree. You look up at Jungkook through lidded eyes, musing to yourself. “You know what I learned?”
Jungkook tilts his head in curiosity. “What?”
“That love isn’t a feeling. It’s a person,” you explain, sighing pleasantly. “Love comes to us through the things we share with other people. That’s what it is.” Your thumbs twiddle in front of you, the pads of your fingers rubbing at the stem of the rose.
He takes a single step forward, reaching out to take your hand in his own. “And are you pleased with who you’ve found?”
You roll your eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me already, you idiot.”
Jungkook obliges without a second thought. 
There is no one to film you this time, no project to work on. There is only you, and there is only him. And there is only a lifetime that the two of you share, a story that you have told together, piece by piece, frame by frame. Your movie didn’t end once you finished editing. Nor did it end the moment the screen went black in Pollack’s class. It wasn’t even over when you watched it a second time with Ruby. 
No, it continues on. Forever and ever, so long as you are with him. There will always be something new to capture, to burn into a disk so you’ll have it for eternity.
He pulls you in for a kiss and it’s not the end of the film. It’s the beginning of a brand new part, a new installment in the series that is your life with him. That is the relationship you have created together. His lips aren’t the fireworks as the credits roll. They are the scene where the two characters meet for the very first time and know that they were meant to be. The scene that sets all of the other ones in motion. That is who Jungkook is. That is what you are sharing, right now. 
A brand new frame. 
When you part, you press your forehead against his, soft blonde locks framing his face as they tickle your face, dancing along the skin of your cheeks.
“You called it a rom-com,” Jungkook points out randomly, just remembering now. 
“Well, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know…” Jungkook says, pretending to think about it as he rocks on the back of his feet. “Did it have a happy ending?”
You bring your lips to his once more, arms wrapped around his neck as you clasp the rose between your fingers. You make a mental note to press it later. Something else to remember him by. Something other than your movie. 
Jungkook pulls you into him once more, hands resting firmly on your waist, letting his body press against yours as you stand there in the muted light of your apartment’s living room, letting the cool spring breeze wash over you. You smile against his lips, feeling your heart race when he grins back. 
“Yes,” you declare proudly. 
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And so, they lived happily ever after. 
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↳ thanks for reading! don’t forget to let me know if you enjoyed it!
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
Text
An Ocean Away - Harry Styles
Sequel to Tastes Like Strawberries 🍓 !
a/n: ahhh! thank you so much for the love you showed TLS! i already had more planned for the story, but all your comments motivated me to do this part 2! it’s an emotional one so brace yourselves! further in the chapter i placed the song that inspired the title and i listened to it while writing so i suggest you do the same!
pairing: professor!Harry x Reader
warning: sexual content
word count: 12.7k
masterlist
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You walk down the familiar hallway texting back Eden that you are not spending the night at home again.
Eden: You really need to tell me about the dick that keeps you so busy these days.
Y/N: I never said a thing about any dick.
Eden: Oh please, you surely got yourself a rebound after Harry, you can’t tell me otherwise.
Y/N: Don’t you get a rebound when you broke up with someone? I was never together with Harry, so it doesn’t make sense.
Eden: You had a thing!! Okay, whatever. Keep your little secrets, I guess it’s fine…
Y/N: Love you!
Chuckling to yourself you put the phone away and stop at the door you know all too well, knocking two times before you open it and poke your head inside.
Harry is sitting at his desk, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he is vigorously scribbling something down into his notebook. He lifts his head at your arrival and you shut the door closed behind you.
“Hello, professor,” you smile at him teasingly, walking around his desk as he pushes himself back a little so you can sit on his lap, pecking his lips gently.
“Hey, done for the day?” he asks, his fingers tenderly stroking your thighs over the fabric of your jeans.
“Yeah. We can leave if you’re done,” you nod.
“Just a few more minutes, alright?”
“Sure,” you nod, standing up from his lap so he can finish his work while you sit on the little loveseat he has in the corner, right under the window.
It’s been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, the new semester has officially started, you’re working your way towards your degree as this is officially your last semester, but what’s more important that you and Harry have been a couple for six weeks following the heated actions of New Year’s Eve.
Harry is still quite anxious about the whole thing, always on high alert and he even asked you to lie to Eden and Nat too. You tried to fight him on that, but you could tell how much he wanted to protect what you had so you decided to feed them this elaborate story about how you and Harry had a fight on New Year’s Eve and realized that it would have never worked out so you agreed to stay just friends. It seems like they believed, because they’ve been keen on trying to set you up with someone while you just keep dodging their attempts, sneaking around with Harry behind their back.
Other than the continuous lying and sneaking around, things have been going well with him. You’ve been spending a lot of time at his place, the only hiding spot where you can be carefree around each other without always watching out for others around you.
Today is Valentine’s day and though your opportunities to celebrate are very slim, having anything that’s slightly public crossed out of the list, that still doesn’t stop the two of you from having a good night in.
You watch him curiously as he is reading the lines of someone’s essay probably, or some test, whatever. Holding the pen ready to use whenever he finds something incorrect, he furrows his eyebrows at something before crossing out a line, mouthing the words he writes to the side of the page. He doesn’t wear his glasses that often, but he’s been complaining about having dry eyes these past days so it’s no surprised he switched to them from his contact lenses.
“You look sexy in your glasses, have I told you that?”
He glances at you, a small smirk tugging on his lips before he returns to the paper in front of him.
“Think they make me look older,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Nah, not more at least than your grandpa sweaters,” you tease him, earning a ‘Really? This again?’ look from him that makes you chuckle.
You busy yourself while Harry finishes his work and then you head out together, strictly keeping the distance between each other. Walking out of the building Harry heads to the left where the car park is while you take a turn to the right. It’s been your usual, since you can’t have anyone see you get into Harry’s car so casually, so you usually walk down to the small café near Building D, because there’s a very narrow little street running behind it where you can get into the car without anyone noticing you. You do the same now too before finally heading back to Harry’s place. Sinking into the comfortable seat, you stare out the window, thinking about how it’s just been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, but it feels like you’ve been together with Harry for months. Despite his many doubts and hesitant act, it was easy to fall into a kind of routine with him, and even more easier to get used to the thought that he is yours and you are his.
During these six weeks you’ve learned quite a few things about him, things women on campus would die to know and they were handed over to you on a silver plate by Harry himself.
One, he is a very touchy person, of course, when he has the chance for it. In the safety of his home or when you have a few minutes for yourselves in his office, he always likes to have his hand on your back or waist, he loves touching your hips or cheeks, caressing the skin wherever it shows from under your clothes. He is also very cuddly, likes to wrap you in his arms when you’re watching TV and when it’s time to sleep the first thing he does is to pull you into his embrace. You usually wake up in the morning with him completely wrapped around you, limbs thrown over you, face buried into your chest or stomach. He is a messy sleeper, but also a fucking adorable one.
Two, he is a good cook but not that good at baking. He says it’s the universe’s sign that he shouldn’t eat as much sweet stuff as he does, but in reality he just sucks at measuring the ingredients. He never follows the recipe, easily goes with things his own way and then he is surprised when it doesn’t turn out as it should.
Three, he notices the smallest things you’d never. Like how you hate it when the Sun is shining right into your face so he always makes sure to draw the blinds in the evening, or that you prefer sleeping with more pillows so he just simply gives you an extra without even asking every time you’re spending the night. He cares so much about you to the smallest details, it always makes your heart flutter.
And four, though he keeps a tough act in school, he is a lovesick puppy when no one is around, likes to be the small spoon when cuddling, absolutely adores it when you cup his face in your palms and kiss it all over. Loves it when you play with his hair or when you hug him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. He always tells you how pretty you are and never misses a chance to sneak a kiss from you. You couldn’t imagine him do any of these before you really knew him, but now you see that all these little things are just as much parts of him like the version of him he shows at school. You feel lucky to be able to see him like this and you’ll probably never get bored of it.
Arriving to his place you drop your bag off at the bedroom before you join him in the kitchen, already eyeing the flyer to the nearby Italian place that delivers.
“How about pizza?” he hums, eyebrows knitted together as he scans the menu.
“Sounds good. Can we order dessert too?” Walking past him you kiss his shoulder before grabbing a glass for yourself, filling it with tap water.
“Oh, no need,” he shyly answers, glancing at you. “We… have dessert.”
You watch him with curious eyes as he disappears in his little study before emerging with a plate filled with pink cupcakes. They look wobbly, the cream on top is not the same on either of them, but because you know he made them, they are the most perfect you’ve ever seen.
He places the plate to the counter with a shy smile before turning to you.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, hands finding your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.
“Oh baby, did you stay up last night to make these?” you ask, touched that he took the time and energy to surprise you with something. Harry nods and you kiss his dimples softly.
“Mm, they are strawberry flavored,” he smirks boyishly.
“We are never escaping strawberries,” you chuckle softly as you dip your fingertip into the cream on top of one of the cakes, tasting it. “Hmm, this is actually good,” you tell him.
“Yeah, the cream is kind of okay, dunno about the rest though,” he admits chuckling.
“As long as it’s not poisonous, I’ll love it,” you giggle kissing his lips again softly. “Alright, but I can’t go over the fact that we agreed on no gifts for Valentine’s Day,” you say giving him a look.
“S’not a gift, just… a little gesture,” he shrugs innocently.
“Okay, then you can’t get mad over my little gesture,” you smirk at him, peeling his arms off you before you run into his bedroom to get his gift.
You really weren’t planning to give him anything, but you had a good idea last minute and couldn’t just not do it. Digging into your bag you pull out the little box and join him in the kitchen again, handing it to him.
“It’s not fair if you spent money on it,” he pouts, but you just roll your eyes.
“You spent money on the cupcakes too. But besides, I didn’t spent a penny on it. Open it!” You urge him.
Harry huffs but takes the lid off, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos. In this not too ideal situation the two of you are living in, there’s no chance you can ever post anything about him, even though there are quite a few cute photos of you with Harry. Eden recently bought a Polaroid printer and you borrowed it to print your favorite pictures of the two of you. There’s one from the morning after New Year’s Eve, just a silly selfie you took in bed, then one with the band from Harry’s birthday recently, a photo of the two of you backstage of one of his gigs you took in the mirror, he has his guitar in his hands as you stand next to him smiling widely. There are a few more with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte and Adam and at the very end of the stack… some special ones.
You watch him go through them smiling warmly until he reaches the last few and freezes. You took the courage to take a few spicy ones of yourself in your favorite lingerie and thought it would be sexy to print them out as well and give them to him.
“I hope you’re not thinking about selling them already,” you chuckle. Harry glances up at you before shaking his head with a playful smirk.
“Was just a little surprised by them,” he admits.
“Do you… like them?”
“Oh baby, I love them, you look… wow,” he breathes out going over the pictures one more time. “But I’m gonna have to lock these away so no one finds them. Adam likes to go over my stuff when he is over, I definitely don’t want him to find them.”
“You better keep them safe because if anyone sees them I’m burying myself,” you snort.
Harry puts the stack of photos back into the box before leaning down he cups your face and kisses you gently.
“Thank you, love the pictures. All of them,” he adds cheekily and you feel yourself blushing.
He leans in to kiss you again, putting the box aside to the counter and this time it’s not just one short kiss, he carries it on, taking his time with your lips, savoring and tasting you without a worry in the world. It grows more and more passionate, tongues clashing and you tug at his hair, lacing your fingers through his locks, a moan escaping his pink lips.
You start inching backwards until your backside meets the edge of the counter. Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull your sweater off of you, throwing it behind before his lips are pressed against yours again. It doesn’t take long for his shirt and pants and your jeans to end up on the floor somewhere behind him, leaving you both in just your underwear. You kiss down his neck and collarbones, your lips gliding across his tattooed chest as you slowly slide down to your knees, hands moving over his growing bulge.
Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, you tug them down and pull his erection out, already so hard for you and you barely even touched him.
“What does my Valentine deserve for making me cupcakes?” you hum, teasingly pumping him a few times with your hands. Harry whimpers under your touch, but doesn’t answer so you stop your hands and look up at him. “Talk to me, what do you want?”
“Your mouth,” he breathes out, his eyes meeting yours, filled with lust and hunger only for you. Smirking to yourself you lick his length up before gently kissing the head, swirling your tongue around the tip before you slowly take him into your mouth.
“Oh fuck, baby!” he pants when you start bobbing your head, pumping the base in sync with your head’s movements.
His hand comes to the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair. He doesn’t force you, he never does, just likes to hold onto you. You try to take him deeper and deeper with each movement until you fit his whole cock into your mouth, keeping it there for a few seconds before pulling away and letting him go.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, helping you up from the floor, kissing your lips hard as he is already pulling your panties down your legs. “How do you want it?”
“From behind,” you tell without hesitation, turning around so you can lean onto the counter and push your ass up for him.
You feel one of his hands stroke down your spine while the other one reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, drawing gentle circles on it at first before he goes a little harder, making you moan his name.
“Harry, please!” you beg, the need to feel him growing with each passing second.
He pulls his hand back, grabbing his hard cock as he lines himself up with you, one hand on his shaft, the other one holding your hip firmly to keep you in place. First he pushes just the tip inside and when he is sure you’re ready to take more, he slides all of him inside, filling you up perfectly.
“Shit, you feel so fucking good. Always so good,” he breathes out, both his hands coming to grip your waist as his hips meet your ass from behind.
He starts moving, going a little soft at the beginning before he gets rougher, his hips smacking against your ass with each thrust. You arch your back and push your ass up so you’re angled just perfectly for him, he runs a hand up your back, sliding it under the clasp of your bra and he leaves it there while fucking you from behind oh so well.
“Harry, oh my God!” you groan when he starts hitting that one spot that makes you go crazy.
“Feeling good, baby?”
“Fuck! So good!” you gasp, feeling the pleasure building up with each thrust. “Go harder!” you beg and once he has both hands on your hips again he does as you asked, railing into you hard, making you keep gasping for air.
“Getting close? Tell me when you’re about to cum, baby.”
“I’m close, please don’t stop!” you pant, hands holding onto the counter’s edge for dear life.
He reaches around you, a hand coming between your legs as his fingers find your clit again, adding to the sensation as he starts playing with it just the way you like it.
“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum! Harry!” you moan uncontrollably and he growls deeply from his chest.
“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me,” he breathes out sharply and he just keeps railing you hard, fingers working on your clit until he feels your walls clench around his dick. “Oh fuck, yes, baby! Cum on my cock!” he gasps and at the same time as you go through your orgasm, you feel him twitch inside you, coming hard with you at the same time. “Jesus fuck! I love you, Y/N!”
You gasp at his words, eyes snapping open in the middle of your orgasm and all air pushes out of your lungs for a moment.
He whimpers and moans, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes to a halt, both of you panting like crazy, coming off your high. When he slowly slides his softening cock out of you, you turn around and look into his eyes. For a moment you thought he just said it in the heat of the moment and he didn’t even realize it, but when your eyes meet his, you can tell he is a little afraid of what your reaction is going to be.
“Did you mean that?” you quietly ask as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, pulling them up, but you don’t bother to put your underwear back on, standing there in only your bra.
“I-I did. I didn’t mean to say it now, but I did mean it,” he nods. “Is it… too soon?”
“No,” you smile at him, stepping closer so you can cup his face in your palms, kissing his lips softly. “I love you too.”
“You do?” he asks, surprised at your reaction.
“Of course, silly. I wouldn’t give my nudes to someone I don’t,” you joke making him chuckle, his arms coming to curl around your waist.
“Sorry, this wasn’t too… romantic,” he breathes out and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“You said you love me while fucking me on Valentine’s Day after exchanging cute gifts. I think it’s romantic,” you chuckle, finally making him smile. “Besides, I don’t care about the setting, just feels nice to hear you say it.”
“Yeah?” “Mhm, care to say it again so I can see your eyes as well?”
“I love you,” he softly murmurs, his forehead resting against yours.
“Yeah, feels better when I can actually look at you,” you chuckle kissing him softly. “I love you too.”
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It’s definitely not just fun and games, being in a secret relationship that no one can know about. It surely adds a lot of tension into the situation, having to be so careful all the time and be reserved to the point where you can’t even be seen too often together.
As the semester carries on you always keep your ears open if there’s anything going on about you and Harry. Though you only limit your time together on campus to the bare minimum, only talking on rare occasions, you still want to make sure no one is getting the wrong (or right) idea about what is going on between the two of you.
The worst part is probably having to lie to Eden and Nat all the time. You spend about three nights at Harry’s every week and you have to lie every time you leave. After a while you tell them that you’re dating this new guy but he wants to keep it low-key because he recently broke up with his previous girlfriend. That gives them enough peace not to nag you all the time but you can tell they really want to meet this new man in your life.
You’ve tried to discuss it with Harry, tell him that they won’t tell anyone but it ended in a fight and you kind of gave up. Harry is way too keen on keeping it a secret and it’s clear he is not gonna make any exceptions. At least it’s the same with his friends, the two of you act like just friends when you’re out with the band though you have a suspicion that Sarah can see through the act. However she chooses not to talk about it so it’s kept hidden.
You don’t fight much with Harry, but when you do, it’s major. You both can get really into the argument and it easily gets way too heated, turning into a screaming match until you both realize you should just talk it out and have a little more understanding for each other. The makeup sex after a fight however… that’s something that makes up for every nasty thing that’s said in the heat of the moment.
Nearing the end of the semester you both start to grow more stressed, you about finishing your last classes, your thesis and studying for your finals, Harry about the growing pile of essays and tests waiting to be graded. A lot of the time when you’re at his place you both are busy with your own stuff and only have the chance to actually be with each other when you go to bed. It takes a toll on the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. Despite the unfortunate nature of how you are forced to maintain your relationship, it’s the healthiest one you’ve ever head and you definitely won’t give up on it too easily.
Though you, Nat and Eden turn in your thesis works mid-April, the semester is still not done for the three of you, the final exams are threateningly close at this point. Spring has officially kicked in, the weather is mostly clear and sunny, allows you to stay outside again and you take advantage of it.
One particular afternoon the three of you are lounging under the pergola, all three of you buried in a book or your notes when you spot Harry walking towards the building. You keep your eyes on him as he slowly approaches you, his gaze meets yours and he smiles at you shortly. It’s all you can get out in the public, but it’s more than nothing.
“Isn’t it hard to see him?” Eden asks and glancing her way you see that she is looking at Harry who is now busy with his phone.
“Why would it be?”
“I don’t know, you clearly had a thing for him and it wasn’t even just a one-sided flirting like every other women had with him. I couldn’t be around him if it happened to me.”
“It’s not like anything major happened. It was all bad timing and the situation wasn’t good. It’s better this way,” you tell her, trying to sound convincing while the guilt is eating you on the inside. All these lies are clouding over your head and you have a feeling they will come down on you pouring one day.
“Still crazy that you are friends with his friends though,” Nat chimes in, squinting her eyes in the sunshine.
“Yeah, you are literally the only person on campus who gets to see him in his private life,” Eden nods. If only they knew how much you see him privately!
“It’s not that crazy,” you shrug, turning back to your book.
You all get back to work, forgetting about Harry, or at least Nat and Eden does, because you get a text from him shortly after he disappeared in the building.
Harry: You look very pretty today :)
Y/N: Flirting with me on campus, professor?
Harry: Can’t help it.
Y/N: You look handsome too, it’s a shame I can’t kiss you stupid!
Harry: Patience!
 “Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” Nat grabs your attention from the phone and you realize she was talking to you.
“What? Uh, sorry.”
“I said that we should go out this weekend. It’s been ages since we last did anything other than studying.”
“I’m not sure…”
“Don’t come with your usual, rambling about how we shouldn’t have any fun before we finish,” Eden rolls her eyes.
“That’s not what I say. I just think that we have priorities.”
“I don’t know about you, but it’s a priority for me to have fun, so I’m down for a night out.
“I think I’m passing,” you mumble. You already made plans for the weekend with Harry, take a hike up the hills since the weather has been nice and it would be great to spend time together outside the house. The hiking routes are far away enough from town that uni students don’t like to take the hustle to drive all the way out so you’ll be fine being together outside.
“If you want to say that you have something planned with your mystery man, don’t even bother. If it’s not his birthday, we are overruling him,” Eden scoffs and you roll your eyes at her.
“Just go without me.”
“That’s not the same!” Nat whines. “Come on, Y/N. For once choose us!”
“That’s rude I choose you guys a lot of times!”
“Not since you’ve been spending half your life with some man and the other half in the library.”
“Yeah, we feel abandoned!” Nat pouts at you, trying to make you feel bad and in all honesty, she is succeeding.
“We can doll ourselves up, have fancy cocktails and all that, it’s gonna be fun! Come on, just one night! I can’t take another Saturday sitting in my room, reading my notes,” Eden growls and you sigh in defeat.
“Alright, I guess I’m in,” you mumble and your friends start cheering as if you just declared that men and women are going to get paid equally from now on.
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You can tell Harry is bummed that you have to cancel your weekend plans, but he is also trying to be understanding.
“I couldn’t bring up a relevant argument so they made me say yes,” you growl when later that day you’re cuddling on his couch after dinner.
“S’fine,” he sighs, leaning down he pecks your lips shortly.
“Wish I could just tell them that I had plans with you,” you breathe out.
“Y/N…” “I know!” you roll your eyes. “It’s just that it would be nice if I could at least tell them the truth.”
“We already talked about this,” he sighs.
“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me,” you point out. “Am I not allowed to feel that way?”
“You are, I just don’t get why you keep bringing it up when there’s literally nothing I can do about it,” he retorts.
“Well there is, you just choose not to.” And with that, you officially pick another fight with him.
It’s not that you enjoy fighting with him, not at all, but the situation is so not ideal and you find his overprotectiveness a little too much at times. You don’t understand why you can’t share it with your two closest friends. You could at least tell Sarah or the other guys, have anyone know about the two of you, but literally no one on Earth knows that you are a couple and it’s bugging you way more than it probably should.
“Why are you so damn keen on making others know about us? What does that have to do with anything?” he growls throwing his hands into the air, standing in the opposite end of the room as you keep pacing the floor, the urge to keep on moving taking over you.
“Because—“ you snap, but stop yourself. You know if you say it out loud, he’ll think you’re stupid.
“Because what?!”
“Because i-it makes me feel like we are not even real! I can’t talk about us, I can’t touch you outside of this house, no one knows we are a thing and it’s so fucking nerve-wrecking, Harry!” you break down, feeling your throat closing up. You didn’t mean to get emotional over this, but you’ve been bottling it up for a while now.
Harry’s shoulder fall forward as he sees the change in you, the heat of the fight long forgotten. He crosses the room, hands reaching up to cup your face in his palms, his thumbs running across the soft skin under your eyes as he wipes the tears away.
“Baby, I know. You think I don’t want to show you off? I want to hold your hand and just take a walk with you, kiss you whenever I want to, show all the horny fratboys on campus that you’re taken. I know it’s hard, but we really don’t have a choice until the end of the semester.”
He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you to his chest, your arms circle around his waist as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stop your sobs.
“I’m sorry. I really wish it was all different,” he murmurs, kissing into your hair softly.
“No, I’m sorry for bitching about this all the time. I knew what we were getting into,” you exhale sharply. “It just… really sucks.”
“It does. But we just have to be patient.”
You manage to put the fight behind and move on in peace, but a tiny thought remains buzzing in the very back of your mind. What happens when you finish school? Will it all be different? Harry will still be a professor and if people see you around together, they will know you were one of his students. What’s gonna be the difference? If he is so on edge now, something is telling you he won’t be changing dramatically and it concerns you. A lot.
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Not willingly, but you go out with Nat and Eden on Saturday. You go to a place that’s quite popular between students, you can most likely always find familiar faces from lecture halls and classes. It’s close to campus and more on the cheap side, the perfect spot for uni students for a night of fun.
As expected, you run into some people from school and they invite the three of you to sit with them at their table which comes in handy, because there’s no empty place by the time you arrive.
One drink follows the other and you easily get tipsy especially because you skipped on dinner before heading out. Though you weren’t in the mood for tonight, you find yourself enjoying the conversation and the company. It really has been long since the last time you went out with the girls and it’s nice to spend some time with them without the books and notes.
A debate starts about whose course one of the boys, Jace should take next semester.
“Professor Peltz is fucking boring, dude,” Nat growls, taking a sip from her drink. “Had him last semester, I could barely stay awake during his lectures.”
“Yeah, but they say he gives good grades easily,” Jace argues.
“Okay, but who else can you choose from again?” Lydia, a girl who lived a few doors down from you when you lived in a dormitory your first year.
“Um, Professor Makley and Professor Styles.”
You freeze at the mention of Harry, especially upon hearing Lydia’s reaction.
“Jace, choose Professor Styles! He is so fucking hot!”
“Not that it matters to me, Lyd,” Jace chuckles.
“Oh come on, I know even guys think he is hot.”
You feel like an intruder in the conversation, keeping quiet as you listen to her rave about how hot she finds Harry. It’s like you are eavesdropping on something that wasn’t meant for your ears, but it’s just the guilt bubbling inside you once again, because you know you won’t be able to say a word without having to lie.
“She has a point,” another guy, Garrett chimes into the conversation. “The man is handsome and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”
“See?” Lydia chuckles. “He is sexy and smart, the whole package. I’ve been daydreaming about him since first year.”
You catch Eden’s look, but you just busy yourself with gulping from your vodka cranberry, feeling uncomfortable in the situation but not even for the reason she thinks. Eden must think it’s weird because you had an actual thing with Harry, but the truth is… that thing is still very much ongoing.
“I would let that man do whatever he wants with me,” Lydia adds sighing longingly, and you are having a hard time to hold your tongue. Unfortunately, you don’t succeed.
“Not sure he wants anything to do with you,” you mumble into your drink and though you hoped your comment would stay unnoticed, but you are out of luck.
“You don’t know that for sure,” Lydia slyly replies, a bit too full of herself for your liking. Yes, she is pretty and definitely doesn’t have problem with guys, but she is a little too confident about Harry if you’re being honest.
“I’m sorry?” you ask with a soft, bit annoyed chuckle.
“I’m just saying that we’ll never know who he finds attractive, because we all know he keeps himself so far from his students.”
“Yeah, maybe because he is not interested in any of his students,” you point out.
“As if he would ever make a move on any of us,” she snorts and you are losing your temper. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, because now you really can’t hold your tongue.
“You can never know, Lydia. You can’t know if he acts the way he does because he is just trying to be professional or because he is, and consider this, not interested in you. Maybe he would actually act up on his feelings but you’re just not his type.”
Your comment is more like just a harsh comeback to Lydia’s words, but Nat and Eden kind of catch on that something is up with you. Ignoring their questioning looks you chug down your drink and soon excuse yourself to get some fresh air. No surprise that they follow you like puppies.
“Girl, what was that inside?” Nat asks as the three of you stand near the entrance of the bar, a few smoking guests littering the area.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, clearly avoiding to look at any of them, wrapping your arms around your upper body as if you were trying to keep your shit together physically.
“You snapped at Lydia for saying Professor Styles might have a thing for her,” Eden points out, but you just bite the inside of your cheeks.
“Because it was bullshit.”
“Why does that matter to you? Not that you’re together with him or something,” Nat argues and you roll your lips into your mouth, trying to keep a straight face but they know you way better than that. They gasp at the same time, Eden grabbing your forearm forcefully that makes you scowl.
“Hey! That hurts!” you whine, but she couldn’t care less.
“Are you fucking around with Professor Styles?” Nat whisper yells at you, eyes wider than ever.
“I mean… we’re not fucking around,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes as you kick the dirt around. “We’re kinda serious.”
“Holy fucking shit!” Eden snaps, drawing some attention at her and you let out an awkward chuckle at the glances the three of you get. “Are you fucking joking right now?”
“No, I am… not,” you admit, feeling a little relieved that you finally said it, but you also feel like you let Harry down with it.
“How long?” Nat questions in shock.
“Since New Year’s Eve. So… almost four months.”
“So he is the one you’ve been seeing all this time? The guy you didn’t want to talk about?”
“Um, yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about him, we just agreed that it’s safer if no one knows.”
“I’m speechless, Y/N,” Eden shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you kept it from us for this long!”
“I know, I felt so shitty, but it’s such a complicated situation, it’s so risky, we don’t want it to ruin us.”
“Obviously,” Nat nods understandingly. “And now I see why you snapped so harshly at Lydia.”
“I just couldn’t stand her talking like that. You guys have no idea how hard it is to keep every fucking thought to myself.”
“Why do I have a feeling it has a little more to it than to just Lydia drooling over Harry?” Nat arches an eyebrow at you, folding her arms over her chest.
“Yeah, you’ve been oddly tensed lately,” Eden agrees.
“It’s just pretty stressful to have a secret relationship, it causes a lot of tension. And I’ve been… I’m not sure anything is going to change after I graduate, if I’m being honest.”
“What do you mean?” Nat asks.
“I just…” you sigh, all your thoughts you kept to yourself flooding back to you at once, overwhelming you in a situation that’s already a bit too much to handle. “We keep saying that it’s gonna change when I graduate, but I don’t see it. He is so overprotective and even if I graduate, people will find out that I was once his student. And it might not be against the rules anymore, but we’ll be judged. I didn’t think it through before, but it’s now starting to be more and more clear for me and I just… don’t know if we can make it work.”
You feel the tears forming in your eyes, you’ve been keeping this to yourself for way too long now and saying it out loud just broke the dam. When Nat and Eden sees your lips trembling and the watery eyes you’re trying to blink away, they don’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug.
“Aw, don’t cry! It makes me want to cry too!” Nat chuckles softly as they sandwich you between them.
“It just sucks so much, because I love him, but I feel like we met at the wrong time and place,” you sob, letting them crush you.
“It happens, baby. It happens. You’ll figure it out!” Eden kisses your forehead before they let go of you. “Want to go home?”
“It’s still early, don’t want to kill the party. I think I’ll just… head over to Harry’s for now. Is that okay?”
“Of course, do whatever makes you feel better,” Nat assures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry I was such a party pooper.”
You call yourself an Uber and text Harry that you are going over. Twenty minutes later you are walking up the stairs to his house and he opens the front door before you could even reach for the doorknob.
“Hey, baby,” he breathes out softly and you don’t say a word, just wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Hey, what happened? Didn’t have a good time with your friends?” He delicately caresses your hair, walking the two of you inside so he can close the door before wrapping both his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.
“Don’t really want to talk about it,” you mumble and it’s the truth. You’re tired of these thoughts though you know you should talk to him about how you’ve been feeling about the two of you lately. Part of you is hoping something will just magically solve the whole situation and you won’t have to deal with it yourself.
Harry makes you a tea while you take a shower and once you are both in bed, you cuddle to his side while he reads some. You are just genuinely enjoying his closeness, because despite everything that’s been haunting you in connection with Harry, you really love this man. Like no one else before and the possibility of the two of you not making it long term scares you more than it probably should.
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The next few weeks come and go in a sense of numbness. Following your emotional breakdown in front of the bar, you kind of push the whole thing to the back of your mind once again, putting all your focus on finishing school. Neither you nor Harry has the energy to put up more fights though you both can feel there’s a lot to talk about, but the end of the semester is just keeping you both way too busy to acknowledge the problems waiting on the corner.
At least there’s one less weight on your shoulders now that Nat and Eden know about you and Harry. You made them swear to their life they won’t tell anyone and you trust them to keep this heavy secret. They’ve been very supportive of the two of you, interrogated you one evening about everything that happened so far, they wanted to make sure Harry treats you the right way. No surprise, he does.
A few weeks before your state exam Harry extends his contract with the school to have him as a professor for another academic year so he is able to keep his visa as well.
You spend your last two weeks buried in your notes before your state exam and Harry gives you all the time and space you need, knowing well how much it means to you to earn the best grade possible.
When you are finally over your exam, you are celebrating at his place. He has bought a little cake and some champagne and you can’t wait to finally spend some time with him without having to worry about your studies.
“I’m proud of you, baby,” he smiles at you, clinking his glass against yours.
“Thank you, feels nice to be finally free,” you chuckle before taking a sip from the champagne.
“My smart girl, knew you’d kill all your exams.” He kisses your lips shortly before squeezing your hand. “How about I run a bath for us, we eat the cake in the tub and then we can watch a movie?”
“Sounds fantastic,” you smile at him before he disappears in the bathroom to get everything ready.
Finishing your champagne you wash the glass quickly and you’re about to cut the cake when your phone buzzes signaling that you’ve just gotten an email. As pull down the notification bar your lips part reading the first few lines. You open the whole thing and read through it eagerly.
It’s a job offer, but not just some lame one that also sounds sketchy at the same time. This one is from one of the biggest investigation offices in London and they are offering you a trainee position as a forensic document examiner with a possible secured spot on their team after one year. The money sounds amazing, the position is perfect, just what you’ve been dreaming of once you are done with school and they are looking forward to hear back from you about a possible interview in the near future.
“Alright, bath is coming together nicely, want to cut the ca—Wha’s up?” Harry questions upon returning from the bathroom, finding you staring at your phone’s screen with widened eyes.
“I, uhh—I just got a… a job offer,” you stutter, still rereading the lines, trying to find a sign that tells you it’s just a joke, but it seems completely genuine.
“What? Baby, that’s amazing!”
“Yeah,” you nod swallowing hard before you look up at him. “It’s in London.”
You watch his face fall from excited and happy to shocked and kind of panicky. You both know what that means, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. Harry just signed another year with the university that’s gonna tie him here for the next 12 months and if you accept the job you’ll be all the way across the world in the UK. Kind of ironic, him, the British guy stuck in the States while you, the American in the relationship, eager to go to the UK.
“That’s… wow. London.”
“Yeah, London,” you nod biting the inside of your cheeks.
“Are you… Are you gonna take it?”
“Well, they want an interview with me, but this is clearly a huge opportunity for me,” you say, not wanting to say the actual words. You feel like saying them would hit you harder than what you can take.
“It clearly is, it’s just that… You want to leave?” he breathes out, eyebrows knitting together.
“This is my only job offer and probably the best I’ll ever get.”
“So you do want to leave,” he forces and it’s pushing your limits.
“Career-wise, of course!” you finally say out loud, unwillingly.
“And what about everything else?”
“I clearly don’t want to leave everything else here, but I will never get a chance like this, Harry. This is the greatest push for someone like me, fresh out of school. I can have a secured spot in a year at a well-respected place. I’m not really in the position to reject offers like this.”
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure about what to do or say in the situation on his hand. You can tell he has a lot to say, but you’re not sure you want to hear all of them.
“Say something?” you softly plead and his eyes meet yours again, filled with concern.
“I just… It took me by surprise, I guess.”
“I wasn’t expecting it either.”
“No, not the job offer,” he shakes his head.
“Then what?”
“That you are ready to leave so easily. It’s like you never even wanted to discuss a version where you stay here, you just decided that you are leaving and that’s it.”
“Did you hear me? I cannot pass on this opportunity, Harry.”
“I did hear you,” he nods, pressing his lips together. “I heard that you didn’t even think about saying no.”
“Why would I say no?”
“Because I’m here, Y/N!” he snaps. “Good to know that I’m not a factor when it comes to decisions as big as leaving the country!”
“You are, Harry, but I need to think about my future career now. I’m not planning to work at an office for the rest of my life and if I pass on this job I might never get anything as good as this one,” you explain, but it seems like the two of you are having two different conversations.
“But why do I feel like it was never an option for you to stay?”
You give him a confused look. He really doesn’t see your point.
“Okay, why was only I supposed to change plans for us? You coming to London doesn’t feel like an option either, why are you trying to turn this against me?”
“I just extended my contract, you know that.”
“I do, and also, while we are at it, you didn’t ask me about that either. You didn’t even wait for me to figure out what I want to do after school, you just assumed that I would be here, but I never said that.” You can tell it hit him hard in the chest but somehow still, he thinks he is right when he isn’t.
“How could have I known you’d want to move across the globe?” he throws his hands up into the air.
“You’re saying this as if I didn’t just get the email and I’ve been plotting this the whole fucking time!”
“I’m just saying that it’s a huge fucking step and you decided so easily, it says a lot about the nature of our relationship.”
“Why are you saying that?!” you snap at him. “Why are you trying to make me the bad guy?”
“I’m not! I’m just saying that it would have been nice if you at least pretended like it was up for debate. You know what it’ll do to us if you move to London.”
“Then come with me!”
“I can’t!” He raises his voice, clearly losing his temper. “I can’t break my contract and you know that too.”
“Well, I can’t afford to say no to the job either and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we could have made it work even if I stayed.” The words leave your mouth before you could think about them, and the cat is finally out of the bag. It seemingly shocked Harry and he is now staring at you with a blank expression, shoulders falling forward.
“What?” he breathes out and you can actually hear his heart breaking. You take a deep breath and rub your face with your palms, trying to collect your thoughts and not just blurt everything out.
“I’ve been thinking and… Even after I’m officially out of the school, people will know that I was your student if they see us together. And I know how important your reputation is for you so I would never put you through any of the shit we might get for us being together. People would judge, no matter what the situation is. I don’t… I just don’t think we can ever make it work here.”
He stays silent, just stares at you, taking in your words and once again, you wish you could read his mind. You almost start begging him to say something when he finally speaks up.
“So you think we don’t have a chance?”
“Not here… maybe not now. I feel like this has been the perfect example of wrong place, wrong time,” you quietly say, a pang of guilt in your tone, this is not how you planned on making this conversation. To be honest, you wished this never had to come, but you were out of luck.
Harry is awfully silent, it’s all over his face how broken he is and you feel the same. You have so much love for this man, yet fate decided you don’t get to share it with him the way you want.
Walking closer you cup his face in your palms, searching for his eyes until his green irises meet your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbones, the pads of your fingers gliding softly over the soft skin. His hands slowly find their way to your waist and he pulls you close to him as you kiss him tenderly, a silent confession about just how much you love him.
“I wanted this to work. I wanted this so badly,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he keeps you tight in his hold.
“I know. Me too,” you smile at him bitterly.
The rest of the evening passes by silently. You take a bath together, finish the cake anyway though even the sweetness can’t help the pain you both feel. Then you lie in bed for hours, just touching and feeling each other, making the best out of the time you have left. It’s unsaid, but you both know your days together are coming to a close end. Kisses and touches turn into some passionate love making, both of you desperate to feel as close to each other as possible and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.
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If you’re being honest, it’s all a blur following that night. You fix up an interview with London a few days later and they are not shying out of telling you straightforward that they want you there, the job is yours. You have one last short conversation with Harry about you leaving, but it’s more like just a confirmation that yes, it is going to happen and that leaves you with only a few weeks left together before you are packing up to leave the country.
You spend every possible free minute together until graduation where you finally get your degree. Your whole family comes and they cheer on you proudly, Harry standing in the crowd a little farther in the back, but still with a proud smile, a hint of gloominess in his beautiful green eyes. A week later you officially move out of your shared apartment with the girls, it’s a sobbing goodbye since all three of you are leaving in different directions following your graduation. You spend your last two weeks before your departure at home, spending as much time with your family as possible since you won’t be able to see them too often once you leave. Though your mom is dying to take you to the airport to say her final goodbye, you decided to give that time to Harry. He said he would drive to your hometown, pick you up and take you to the airport and you already know it’s gonna turn you into an emotional mess.
Leaving everything behind is hard, but having to say goodbye to Harry is the worst. It’s been a whole emotional rollercoaster for the both of you to get to this point and neither of you are ready to say goodbye, but this is what needs to happen.
That morning, you hug your parents, sister and brother tightly after you load Harry’s car with your two huge suitcases that have your whole life packed in them. You asked your family not to ask any questions about Harry and luckily, they kept quiet the whole time he was there, just treating him as a friend. You couldn’t take having to explain to them who he really is and how you met him, that’s gonna be another conversation for the future when you don’t feel like you’re about to start crying the moment you open your mouth.
The ride to the airport is silent, Harry holds your hand, your glued together palms lying on your lap the whole time. You haven’t even left but you already miss him so much.
Arriving he helps you bring all your stuff inside and patiently waits until you check your baggage in, leaving you with just your carry-on. Standing near the security check, the final moment finally comes and as soon as you look into his eyes you start bawling your eyes out.
“Oh baby, come ‘ere,” he breathes out, pulling you into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Harry. I told you we would make everything right, but I couldn’t,” you sob into his chest as he holds you tight. You feel like if he let go of you, you’d just turn into a puddle at his feet.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he soothes you, his fingers threading through your hair.
“But it feels like it was,” you choke out. Harry leans back and takes your puffy cheeks between his warm palms, looking deep into your eyes.
“It wasn’t. As you said, it was just a matter of wrong time and place. But I think we brought the best out of it.”
“So… you don’t regret it?” you softly ask, eyebrows knitted together in concern.
“Absolutely not,” he smiles at you kindly. “I loved every moment of it. And I love you.” You notice how he didn’t use past tense when he said he loves you and you can’t decide if it aches your heart more or fills you with joy. A little bit both of them.
“I love you too,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, savoring them one last time before you leave everything behind.
“Maybe we’ll meet again,” he smiles sweetly when he pulls back, tugging your hair behind your ear with a gentle move.
“I really hope,” you chuckle through your tears. “Take care, Harry,” you tell him, pecking his lips just once more.
“You too, baby,” he smiles, his hands falling to his sides as he lets go of you.
Turning around you walk into security and as you go with the line towards the gates, you glance back one last time. Harry is standing in the exact same spot, eyes glued to you as he watches you disappear from his sight.
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It feels like the meeting is never coming to its end. You exchange a look with Jasmine, who seems just as tired and done with this two hours long discussion as you are. She grabs her phone from the table and you watch her something type out before she eyes at your device, signaling that she just texted you.
Jas: I need alcohol after this day. Want to have a drink with me after work?
Y/N: YES PLEASE!!!!!!!
You see her smile at her screen before both of you return to your boss at the front, talking about a possible upcoming case.
“And last but not least, I want to take a moment to bring light to the excellent work Y/N, our new full-time colleague did on the Santiago case. The police were highly satisfied with the fast and precise work you did. This was your first official case since you’ve decided to accept our offer to become a full member of our team and transferred from your position as a trainee. Congrats!” William, your boss nods in your way with a proud smile as a round of applause cheers for you from your colleagues.
“You go girl!” Jasmine mouths you from across the table and you just chuckle shaking your head.
The meeting finally wraps up and everyone goes on with their day. You are walking back to your office with Jasmine by your side. Your offices are next to each other and you started working here just three weeks apart. She is the same age as you and was approached the same way as well, it’s just that she moved all the way from Australia. The two of you have grown quite close, starting a new life at the same time in a foreign country, it easily brought you together.
“So are we leaving early for those drinks or what?” she asks poking your side.
“How early?”
“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes? Come on, it’s Friday, everyone leaves early!” You shake your head chuckling at her. She can be so restless sometimes, but it’s just the right amount that she can push you out of the comfort zone just enough.
“Alright.”
“Cool, I’ll come banging on your door,” she winks at you before disappearing for her usual coffee break.
It’s two in the afternoon, you still have a few hours ahead of you and some caffeine sounds perfect actually. Though the coffee at the office is excellent, you’ve grown to like this small place nearby, a family owned business that offers the best you’ve ever had.
You grab your bag from your office and head out for a quick coffee run. The walk to the café is freshening, the weather has been treating you well lately, the Sun is beaming and you can only hope you won’t wake up to pouring rain the next morning.
You think back to how lost you were feeling just a year ago, when all of this around you were so new and a little too much at once. One month into your time in London you even thought about quitting and moving back home. You felt alone and broken, yearning after everything you left behind. Your friends, family, loved ones, everything that was so far away from you.
It took you long weeks, even months to get used to your new life and now you can’t even imagine yourself anywhere else. It doesn’t miss you don’t miss terribly the life you had still, but now you have a lot to be happy about here as well.
Waiting at a crossroad, you find yourself twirling around the strawberry ring on your finger, your thumb fidgeting with it like every time you think about your home. You glance down at it and take a deep breath before the lamp turns green and you continue your walk to the café.
It’s not rush hours so there are only a few people lingering around the small place. You don’t have to think about what you are getting, James, the barista already knows your usual and starts making it right away as you swipe your card paying your drink.
You stand at the side, waiting for your coffee, staring out the window, watching people pass by on this lovely afternoon. Your gaze stops on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench, feeding a group of pigeons and you smile as a little girl runs through the birds, making them fly away instantly. The old lady just smiles at the girl, not holding a grudge that she just scared the birds away.
Your eyes move away, watching businessmen come and go, kids going home from school, wearing their school uniforms, everything just feels so… peaceful.
You are almost about to turn away from the window when your gaze falls on a tall figure near the Sainsbury’s across the road and your lips part as you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm you know all too well. You blink once, twice, three times, waiting for your eyes to make sure it’s the person you think it is.
Harry is standing right there, holding a little bag of groceries, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, oblivious to your shocked gaze on him. Your feet move before your brain could think it through, they take you out of the café and you stand in the middle of the sidewalk as you call out for him.
“Harry!”
His head snaps up at his name, eyes looking around, searching for the source before they finally find you, a shocked, but seemingly joyful expression plastering over his handsome face. He is quick to shove his phone into his pocket before he watches both ways and runs across the road to meet you on the other side. You can’t push your smile down as you watch him approach you, his tall, fit figure getting closer and closer until he is standing right in front of you, watching you in awe.
“Hey,” he breathes out, both of you a little unsure of what to do, how to greet each other.
It’s been months since you last talked. After your departure you kept in contact, you couldn’t just distance yourself from him so abruptly, but the thousands of miles between the two of you made it almost impossible to maintain a working connection, the time zones, all the work you both were buried under and just life itself made you drift away from each other.
But he is now standing in front of you and though he looks slightly different, he is still the Harry you know and love. He is your Harry.
“What… what are you doing here?” you ask, finally finding your voice.
“Did you forget I’m British?” you teases you and you roll your eyes.
“I mean, are you visiting family or something?”
“I uhh…” he glances down at his feet before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m actually back.”
“What do you mean?”
“My contract ended in July and I didn’t… I didn’t extend it. I came back a few weeks ago.”
Your lips part at the information. Harry is in London, he is now in the same city as you, for the first time in a whole year.
“Really? That’s… wow.” There’s too much you want to tell and ask him, yet you stand there, blinking at him, still lost in the feeling of seeing him for the first time again.
“I actually wanted to contact you when I got back, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that,” he admits with a nervous chuckle and your eyes soften over him.
“What do you mean? I would have loved it if you called.”
“It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where you’re standing about me.”
“Well, seems like fate did it for you,” you smile at him warmly. “I would love to catch up. I have to head back to work now, but maybe later?”
“What about after work? When are you getting off?”
“I finish at 5.”
“I can meet you at your work if you text me the address.”
“That would be great,” you nod smiling. “My number is still the same, so you’ll know it’s me.”
“Great,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a boyish smirk. You are just now realizing how much you’ve missed him.
“I, um…” You’re trying to find the right words, still feeling overwhelmed about the sudden run-in, but at last you decide to go for a hug.
Your arms wrap around his waist, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping you in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. A shiver runs down your spine as the sense of home washes over you all at once, the warmth of Harry’s body making your heart flutter. Unfortunately, the moment must come to an end. His arms fall from around you, just like they did at the airport when you said goodbye to each other over a year ago.
“I’ll… see you later then,” he smiles as you are backing towards the entrance of the café.
“Yeah, later,” you nod and turning around you walk inside.
Arriving back to the office you drop by Jasmine’s office to tell her that you have to postpone your plans after work.
“What is more important than getting drunk with me?” she gasps dramatically.
“I ran into… I met Harry,” you tell her. You told her all about Harry one evening when you were out, just a few months into your stay. It was one of those days when you were feeling extremely homesick, or maybe you just missed him terribly.
“What? Your professor ex?” she asks with widened eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, you are forgiven. Go and get the man back!”
“What?” you chuckle. “We just met after a year, how do you know I want him back? Maybe I just want to catch up with him,” you say, but it’s an obvious and blatant lie and you both know that. Jasmine gives you a look.
“Please, you are still so obviously in love with the man, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”
You don’t protest, just bite into your bottom lip. You really are in love with him, or the version you knew a year ago. He could be an entirely different person now so you can’t be sure if your feelings are the same about the man you met today.
“Have fun with him and then tell me all about it after, okay?” she beams and you just nod, leaving her to finish her work.
As time is slowly passing by you find yourself growing nervous about seeing Harry. That short little conversation on the street was not enough to calm your nerves. What is he like now? Is he the same? Does he have new hobbies? Is he as happy to see you as you are to see him? What will he think of you? What if he doesn’t like you after all this time?
You try to push the questions to the back of your mind, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much to the point where you chicken out of seeing him. When you’re on your way down following his text that he is waiting for you in front of the building, you are trying to keep yourself together and remind yourself that it’s just Harry, he might be a little different, but he is still kind of the same.
Luckily, the moment you spot him waiting a few feet away from the entrance, you forget about everything else, he is the only one to exist. He envelopes you in a hug when you arrive, smiling at you warmly.
“Hi, ready to go?” he kindly asks and you nod.
You settle for a nearby bar you’ve actually been to with Jasmine before. Harry insists on paying for the first round of drinks as the two of you settle in a secluded booth at the back. When he is standing at the bar you catch yourself watching him in awe. The situation is quite odd, could have never happened probably back home, the two of you casually out for a drink.
“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks upon returning, sitting across you.
“I was just thinking how this is the first time we are out, just the two of us.”
Harry smiles softly, probably appreciating it just the same.
The next couple of hours you both try to share anything and everything that has happened in the past year. He tells you about his last year as a professor and him not extending his contact. Coming back to London he has joined a research group for a marketing company, using his excellent knowledge to analyze human behavior in connection with different type of ads.
“It’s a lot different from being a college professor ain’t it?” you tease him and he nods chuckling.
“Guess I wanted some change. But it’s been nice, I enjoy doing a lot of research and experiments.”
Then you tell him about your time as a forensic document examiner, all the different cases you worked on and how it has been, living in London on your own. He listens to your tales about everything you’ve done with Jasmine, the concerts and karaoke bars you’ve been to and just generally your life overseas.
“Sounds like you’ve found your place, then,” he says smiling softly.
“I guess. Wasn’t an easy transition, but I’m feeling good now,” you nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my past,” you add.
His eyes wander down to your hands that are fidgeting with your almost empty glass. You see how they stop over the ring and he seems surprised as he reaches out, takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the little strawberries.
“You’re still wearing the ring,” he states.
“Of course,” you smile and when he is about to let go of your hand, you grab it and hold it, needing to feel his touch.
You wanted to run back home so many times because you were missing him too badly, missed his voice, his eyes, his touch, everything and now, out of nowhere, he is here with you again, far away from the place where it all started and had to end for a while, still making you feel like home, no matter where you are.
At one point, you move to sit beside him in the booth. You just keep sharing and sharing even things you’ve talked about on the phone before. You’re just soaking each other in. His arm soon moves around your shoulders and you gladly lean into his side, placing a hand to his thigh, sparkles running through your body.
“I love this,” you hum to yourself upon finishing your last drink.
“Love what?���
“Being out with you without a worry. I always dreamt of this and it’s just… so natural. I wish we got to experience it before.”
“As you said, that was a wrong time and place. Wasn’t our fault.”
You lift your head, eyes meeting his curious green irises as he smiles down at you kindly. You’ve missed that smile, it still makes your heart skip a beat, just like at the beginning.
“And do you think it’s the right time and place now?” you prompt the question.
“It’s definitely… better,” he chuckles softly. “Unless you are seeing someone, because now would be the best time to tell me.”
“I’m not,” you shake your head smirking. “Tried to go on dates, but truth is… none of them were you. I gave up after a few terrible attempts.”
“I didn’t even try,” he shyly smiles. “I just… knew no one would make me as happy as you did. As you always do.”
Pushing yourself up a bit, you rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, his arm around your shoulder tightens and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you closer. Your palm slides up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his cheek. You place a soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, testing the waters out, seeing how he reacts though nothing that happened tonight tells you he wants to keep his distance.
He moves his face, nose nudging against you before his lips find yours in a kiss you’ve been longing for since you left him behind at the airport over a year ago. Your fingers lace through his hair, pulling him towards you as if he could escape from your hold any moment, but he is definitely here to stay. Your lips clash again and again, savoring each other, eagerly trying to make up for the time you lost since your departure. You melt into his arms, moving your legs across his lap as he pulls you to his lap in the booth, partially hidden from the rest of the bar, wrapped up in your little bubble. He tastes like home, his kisses feel like the first warm rays of sunshine after a long and cold winter, the only thing you couldn’t really get yourself over this whole year. Because you’ve become good at pushing your feelings down to the point where you could easily carry on, but he was always in the corner of your mind, making you wonder if you’ll ever meet again and if you do, will it be the same as before?
It’s not, because it’s better. The burdens and banters that tied you both down a year ago are now long gone, you have all the time and space in the world, nothing is restricting you. You can touch him and kiss him whenever and wherever you want. There’s no more sneaking around, no one here knows who you are and who Harry used to me to you. Here, you’re just another lovesick couple, so into each other it’s almost insane.
When he pulls back his forehead stays rested against yours as you both are trying to catch your breath. His hand runs up and down your thigh, the warmth of his palm melting your body under his soft touch.
“I love you,” he breathes out, eyes meeting yours.
“You still do?” you ask with a small smile, heart beating in your throat.
“I never stopped loving you,” he admits and you let out a shaky breath, pulling him down for a short kiss.
“Not even when I was an ocean away from you?”
“No,” he chuckles shaking his head. “If that’s possible, I loved you even more when you were away. I realized how much you mean to me and I could only hope you weren’t moving on without me.”
“I could never,” you smile at him softly. “I love you too much to do that.”
“You have no idea how much I missed you say that,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle and you kiss his lips shortly, assuring him that you feel the same way. “So… are we going to try again?”
“Do you want to?”
“There’s nothing I want more, baby,” he truthfully admits, his gaze softening at you as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to?”
“Of course,” you smile at him widely. “I think it’s settled.”
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Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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batsandbugs · 3 years
Note
Omgg hi! I just wanted to hop back onto tumblr and say how much I loved the IKEA Daminette story!! I literally fell in love of how you wrote Marinette in that. I was just wondering. I know you are in the middle of working on other fics. And no pressure, I was just curious…will you add more to the IKEA Verse??
Sorry, I don’t want to sound demanding or pressuring. But I was just curious because I am kinda excited to see how it progress if you decide to add more to it. ❤️
No! This is a great question and I should probably answer and let everyone here know what is going on.
So, the short answer is YES I will be adding more to the IKEA Game Universe. I fully intend to expand into Marinette and Damian's relationship and Marinette's relationship with the rest of the batfam.
However, I was so ready to be done with IKEA Game that I just wanted to shelve it for a while. I have a TON of other daminette stories that I am working on. Right now. When they will be out... well, that's another question altogether.
My current list of Projects includes (but isn't limited to):
- Help (I need somebody) Help: currently stuck in limbo, because I have no clue where I'm going with it and there are some heavy themes involved with the story and I want to do them right and I don't have the mental energy at the moment to pull it off.
-Bats, Bug, and Boomerangs: Currently not interested in writing. In desperate need of inspo.
-Daminette December: I'll return to those prompts eventually, but maybe I'll just combine them with whatever we come up for this year and just make a small and unfinished collection I can go back to.
(NEW STUFF)
-Summer prompt list story: Okay, currently working on this which is going to be an exploration of Damian and Marinette falling in love over the course of 30 summer prompts, I'm currently 12,000 words in and only finished with prompt 3. So... we have a long way to go. I'd like to be about a 1/3 of the way down before I start posting, but we'll see how long it takes me to get there.
-Four seasons field trip fics: Four unconnected field trips, in all four seasons, where Damian and Marinette meet and shenanigans ensue. The current lineup is: Winter - Switzerland, Spring - Paris, Summer - Greece, and Fall - Gotham. YES, I PLAN TO DO A GOTHAM FEILDTRIP FIC! At some point.
-Amnesiac!Damian and Forest Hermit/Miraculous Gaurdian!Marinette: Yeah, this one I love and can't wait to write it eventually. It's pretty self-explanatory: a girl finds a mysterious injured boy with no memories, nurses him back to health with magic, the boy learns about the strange and secretive girl. Eventually, they leave the safety of the forest to explore the outside world, boy's past gets revealed, and all hell breaks loose from there. You know, your classic love story.
Like a solid dozen historical AU's of varying complexity, including but not limited to:
Paris during the nazi occupation
Mermaids and Golden Age pirates
I’m a painter decorating a church and I kinda gave one of the angels your face, now you are sitting at that church and you’ve just seen it, just kill me now.
French Revolution AU - soooo many ideas
American Revolution - just as many ideas
Founding Gotham AU (There's bound to be some weird miraculous mumbo jumbo that explains why Gotham is creepy AF. I'm fully on board with doing a reincarnation explanation and a parallel modern-day and founding story)
Reverse Aladdin AU (okay I know not exactly history, but.. sort of?)
Titanic story
1920's Gangster
1920's Bonnie and Clyde
1920's murder mystery (invited, in a mansion, in Wayne Manor, in Paris)
1920's superheroes (Can anybody tell I love the 1920's)
Those are only a handful...
I would love some feedback on what, in particular, you guys would want to see first. I don't have a lot of this written down, and right now I have ideas floating in my head and I need a good way to get them down and in what order I should. Any ideas on where to go next would be so appreciated.
ANWAY...
In non-daminette news I have a Marvel story I need to work on (and the first part needs re-editing) I have two jobs, and I'm going into my last semester at school. So I have quite a bit on my plate, and it seems like not a whole lot of time to do it.
I should have some new daminette content out by the end of the month. I don't think it will be IKEA Game, but I hope y'all will enjoy it all the same. Hopefully, I can get my head back into writing for that universe and you'll be able to enjoy more shenanigans from the whole batcrew.
OH! I also have a ko-fi now! If you like my stuff and want to show a little appreciation a stop by and a donation is always appreciated. You can visit that here!
Love you all!
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snelbz · 3 years
Text
Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}
Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?
Word Count: 2807
Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.
Tempting the Fates Masterlist
Shelby’s Masterlist
Tara’s Masterlist 
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Poseidon
– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves
Aelin had moved past hurt.
Now, she was just pissed.
It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.
Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.
“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”
Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”
Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.
“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”
“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”
“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”
“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.
Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.
“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”
Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”
Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”
Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.
Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”
Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”
“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.
She was still on glass #1.
Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.
“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”
“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.
“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”
“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.
Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”
“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.
“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”
Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”
Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.
“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.
“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”
Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”
“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”
Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.
Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”
Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”
Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”
She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”
Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”
“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.
Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.
All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.
*
A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.
“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”
“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”
Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.
After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”
“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”
Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”
Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”
Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.
“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”
“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”
Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”
Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”
“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”
“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.
Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”
Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.
It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.
And when he did, he started laughing.
“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”
“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.
Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.
“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”
“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”
Rowan continued to drink.
“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”
Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”
Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”
Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.
Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”
The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”
Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”
Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.
He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.
Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.
“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.
Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”
He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.
Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.
“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”
Rowan knew he was right.
Of course, he was right.
And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.
He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.
“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.
Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.
*
Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.
Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.
She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.
When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.
The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.
She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.
When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.
And found who had been watching her during her workout.
Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.
Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.
“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”
She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”
She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.
“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”
“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”
He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”
She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”
Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”
She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”
Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.
She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.
Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.
Even if she wanted there to be.
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imagineyourworld · 3 years
Text
Paper Rings
Howzer x Genderneutral!Reader 
Summary: Will you marry Howzer even though he can’t offer you the shiny things you’re used to? (Inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same title) 
Warnings: Like one mention of war and allusion of poverty, otherwise just tooth rotting fluff 
Check out my other work here
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What was he thinking? Your parents were a Duchess and Duke on your home planet, they were friends with the Syndullas, you grew up in a mansion and here Howzer was, wanting to marry you. Not only did he not have much property, most people considered him property, He couldn’t offer you what you were used to, what you deserved. But no matter how often he told himself that he shouldn’t ask you to marry him, he just had to. He couldn’t take the thought of dying without ever having told you just how much you mean to him, how much he wants to spend the rest of his life, however long, with you.  But today, he finally decided, was the day. The war was over, for the first time since Howzer could remember there was something resembling peace, and you’d be arriving later that day.  Just a few days ago you had commed him, telling him that you had asked your parents to let you finish your university education on Ryloth and they agreed. So you will spend the next two years right there next to him, And afterwards you could look for a job on Ryloth, or maybe, now that the war was over, Howzer could find a way to escape the army and the two of you could settle on your home planet or any corner of the galaxy you wanted. Provided you said yes.  Howzer was on duty most of the day, which is why he couldn’t greet you the second you set foot on Ryloth. But as soon as his shift ended he hurried to the Syndullas’ house, in the garden of which the two of you had been secretly meeting for the past two years.  Or maybe not so secretly, he thought as he saw Hera waving at him from the window of her bedroom.  “Great”, Howzer muttered. He liked Hera, loved her like a little sister even, but he really didn’t want anyone watching this proposal. No one should know, in case you said no, an answer for which Howzer had to be prepared for. That’s the reason he had decided against asking for Eleni’s help in choosing a ring. Instead he had gone with a small silver band, engraved with the initials for both your and his first names. It was classic and simple.  And cheap, the nagging voice in his head insisted. Of course there had been many more beautiful rings, but the truth was that he couldn’t afford any of them, even the engraving had almost blown his budget.  He finally reached the bush behind which he knew you were hiding. The second he stepped around it and into your eyesight you had your arms wrapped around Howzer.  “I’m so glad to see you. I missed you”, you greeted him.  Howzer hugged you back for a few seconds before letting go to press a gentle kiss to your lips.  “I missed you more”, he whispered, his forehead leaning against yours.  You shook your head, a smile on your lips.  “That’s impossible.”  With a matching smile, though maybe just the slightest bit more nervous, Howzer grabbed your hand and lead you over to a thick log on the ground.  As soon as the two of you sat down you rested your head on his shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable, due to his armour, but being uncomfortable with Howzer was million times better than being comfortable alone.  Howzer tried his best not to look you in the eyes, which was a lot easier with your current position, because he knew the second you really looked at him you’d be able to tell that he was nervous about something. And he wanted to stall for just a few more moments, just in case the question he was about to ask would ruin everything.  “So”, he started. “How was your day?”  He didn’t need to ask twice. You began telling him all about the beautiful room the Syndullas had set you up in until you could find an apartment of your own. The university campus you had seen for the first time today and the classes you would take this semester.  “I can’t believe I’m finally going back to university after I had to leave when this stupid war started. Although, without this stupid war we never would have met, so I suppose that’s one positive thing about this whole kriffing mess.”  It’s now or never, Howzer thought.  “Speaking of us...”, he said. He nudged your head with his shoulder to make you lift it before taking both your your hands into his and looking you deep in the eyes. “I really don’t know how to say this. I’ve tried to practice, but everything sounded wrong, so I suppose I’ll just wing it.”  A horrified expression made its way to your face and if Howzer’s hands hadn’t been sweating so much he would have noticed moisture gathering in your own palms.  “Howzer, my darling, are you breaking up with me?”, you asked, voice shaking and tears threatening to spill. You couldn’t believe it. Just a few days ago he had seemed so happy to have you on Ryloth with him, he had told you he loved you, and now this?  Before you could do or say anything else Howzer began shaking his head frantically.  “No! Stars, no! Cyare, just listen to me.”  You nodded, although still a bit shaky.  “I’m so happy to have you here with me for the next two years, but that made me realize, or rather it’s one of the things that made me realize, that I want to have you right next to me for the rest of my life. I don’t know how long my life will be, even now that the war is over, I don’t know what the empire will do with us clones, but if you’ll let me, I will do everything in my power to never leave your side. I know I can’t offer you much, I don’t have a mansion like the one you grew up in, or even a house to call me own, I can’t give you jewelry or fine clothes or the best food, but everything I have, everything I am, I can give to you. I offer you my heart and my soul and I promise to do whatever I can to make you happy for as long as you want me to.”  After his last words he let go of one of your hands and knelt down in front of you on the ground. In the same swift motion he pulled a simple black box out of his holster where his blaster should be.  “(Y/N), cyar’ika, mesh’la, my beloved, my beautiful, my darling, my sun and stars, will you marry me?”  The tears that had been in your eyes earlier were now floating. Never had anyone said something like that to you, offered you so much and asked a question you never knew you wanted to hear.  But Howzer, in his worried state, misinterpreted your tears. He sat the box down on the ground and put a hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t want to marry a man who cannot offer you the riches you’re used to.”  Tears were now making their way down his cheeks as well. You shook your head, slowly at first, then violently. How could he think that that’s why you’re crying?  “Howzer, I love you. I love you whether you’re the richest man in the galaxy or the poorest, it doesn’t matter. I may like shiny things, but I’d marry you no matter what, even if you proposed with a paper ring.”  Within seconds his expression went from shock to relief to pure happiness and love. He lifted the box from the ground again and opened it, showing you the ring inside.  “It may not be paper, but I doubt this is worth much more.”  Laughter bubbled past your lips. Without thinking you leaned down and pressed a kiss to Howzer’s forehead, another to his cheeks, his eyelids and his nose, before your lips finally connected in a loving kiss.  “I still need an answer, mesh’la”, Howzer mumbled against your lips after you had separated to catch your breath.  You wouldn’t have thought it possible to smile even wider, but somehow you did.  “Yes. My answer is yes, Howzer. I will marry you.”  With a smile matching yours, and after another quick kiss, he gently slipped the ring on your finger.  And even though it was probably the cheapest thing you owned, it was also the most valuable and you loved it almost as much as the man who had given it to you. 
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I know my usual day to post is Friday, but I was listening to Paper Rings and thinking of the latest Bad Batch episode and this fic just came to me and I couldn’t wait to write and share it. 
231 notes · View notes
issaxcharlie · 3 years
Text
Falling like the stars✨
Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader
Summary: Luke and Y/N never got to be a thing. Whatever they had ended abruptly when she settled on someone with far more status than the aspiring guitarist. Months later, now single, Luke entangles her in a scheme to make Sunset Curve more popular. The only thing she needs to do is fake date him for 2 weeks.
Songs used: Holy Ground by Taylor Swift, Loved You First by One Direction and Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur.
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High school is a world by itself. It has its own system and everyone moves through it. It is something that although it is not discussed, everyone knows. Including the three members of Sunset Curve, who are lying in the yard trying to find a solution to their latest problem.
"We need more people to support our music. If we can't get this little school to support us, how are we going to fill clubs or sign with a label?” Reggie wonders aloud to himself, no matter how hard they try, they can't get the Los Feliz student body to listen to their band.
“We should have thought about it before, Reg. Now we're just the problem kids who most likely won't finish school. Why would they come to see us at those seedy little clubs when they can go show off at football games.” Luke stands up suddenly after Alex words, one of those huge smiles that comes out when he has a really bad idea on his face.
“Well it seems that the solution is easy, boys. We have to make them see us on the same level as those jocks.”
“Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that, genius?” Alex fiddles with his hands as he rests his head on Reggie, both tired of not being able to come even close to fulfilling their dream.
Luke points to the nearest post, on which there are at least 5 posters to support the homecoming king and queen.
“Really? Do you think someone would vote for you? Before all those star athletes who also have a cheerleader to back them up? You basically have just us and I don't think I can do one of those tricks.”
“We’ll think of something. Winning that stupid thing would put us directly in the top of the pyramid. We’ll find a way, we always do.” Before anyone can respond, some screaming and commotion can be heard.
“Savannah is accusing Y/N to mess with her man! Run, they are in the hall!" students mention as they start running to watch the discussion.
“Oh god, Y/N. I’ll better go and see if I can help her somehow.” Alex gets up and Reggie begins to follow him, but not before turning to make sure Luke is following too. The guitarist makes an irritated face but ends up walking behind his friends.
From the moment they enter the main hall they can hear the screeches of probably the most popular girl in school, Savannah Miller. One of those typical unbearable girls who for some reason always reach the top of the elite in schools despite treating everyone badly.
Y/N Y/L is on the other side of the discussion, she looks calm and even bored. The first thing Luke digests from Savannah's words is that she thinks Y/N was making out with her idiot of a boyfriend during third period. What's interesting about the situation is that Diego cheated on Y/N with Savannah maybe a week and a half ago and had been dating her ever since.
But that's not Y/N's style, no matter how angry she is.
Luke knows her well enough, or so he wants to believe. She was always good friends with Alex and Reggie, and her relationship with them remained strong over the years despite how unstable and fleeting her relationship with the guitarist was.
He's never going to admit how deeply he felt for her. How much it screwed him up that just when he finally began to believe they could be something else, she completely walked away from his life so she could date the man that would end up cheating on her just because he looked more promising at the time. Rich, popular, the quarterback of the football team, the ‘perfect guy’ she said to the boys.
But hey, that's past.
Luke looks up to meet Y/N's eyes on him. In the moment she realizes she was caught, she sneakily turns to Alex, who is just inches from the guitarist and smiles at him.
“Are you actually smiling? You think this is funny?” The girl looks furious, but she's smart enough not to make this a battle of strength.
“I already told you, Savannah. It wasn’t me.”
“I can count, Y/N. Neither you nor Diego were in class."
And that’s when it hits him. The possibility of getting to the top of the pyramid in front of him. Because maybe Y/N is not the most popular, but it is undoubtedly one of the most loved by everyone. Intelligent, caring, beautiful, talented. And she certainly has the status after dating Diego Hernandez for one semester. No one had managed more than 3 months with him and the guitarist thinks that was a good sign that that idiot is not a good idea but well, it wasn’t his choice.
Luke begins to walk towards the center of the circle, Alex tries to stop him but cannot catch his arm in time. Both girls turn to see him surprised, but neither says anything.
"You can go find culprits elsewhere, Y/N was busy with me at the time. You can ask whoever you want and they'll tell you that I wasn't in class during third period either."
Of course, he wasn't there because the trio got into Reggie's old truck to get some hotdogs but no one has to know that.
His hand goes to take her firmly by the hip, just like all those nights that now only remain as memories. He is looking at every inch of her face, searching for her reaction, and is surprised by the naturalness with which the girl accepts the gesture. As if his hand belongs there. And maybe, just maybe, it does.
“Do you really want me to believe this?” Savannah asks, clearly annoyed.
“Y/N and Patterson? There’s just no way in hell. C’mon babe, he’s just pathetic, you could do better.” Diego says out loud as he approaches the scene in the middle of Y/N and Savannah.
There's something about the disgruntled way they both said it that makes Luke want to prove that a girl like her could want him. He doesn’t know how to distinguish if it is pride or insecurity but at the moment he is not interested.
He's barely going to open his mouth to defend himself when Y/N starts talking. "No. You can speak as badly as you want of me but you're not going to bring Luke into this."
Luke lets go of her so he can step back a few inches and see her from a better angle. She’s definitely not calm anymore. Her face looks altered and she is undoubtedly in protective mode. She turns to see him when she feels his hand leave her body but he offers her his hand and she intertwines it between her fingers without hesitation. At this rate she is taking control of the situation so he is going to let her continue and try to achieve his goal along the way.
“I know you need a partner to have any hope of winning the crown, but choosing Patterson is a desperate move.”
And that’s his cue. "If my baby wants that crown I will get it for her. It's that easy.”
“What? I do-” At that moment Luke panics and pulls her by the hand that they have intertwined and with the other holds her face while bringing their lips together. When he reacts to what he is doing he is afraid that Y/N will push him in front of everyone but to his surprise she kisses him back instantly, releasing his hand to bring him closer to the neck.
The kiss is passionate and almost desperate, but it only lasts a few seconds since a voice brings them back.
"This feels like deja vu." Reggie whispers to Alex, they both walked during the discussion towards the circle and are so close that Luke and Y/N heard him clearly.
“Well, we already clarified that she was not with your boyfriend so, I’ll take my girl. It was a pleasure, we should repeat this another day... said no one ever." Luke takes her hand and leads her to the nearest empty living room, Reggie and Alex locking the door behind him.
“What the hell was that crown bullshit? Why did you even cover for me? What are you up to? At least tell me is fun... or that includes you shirtless.” She jokes, a cheeky smile spreads in Luke’s face.
“I need a favor and thought you’ll appreciate an alibi.” She raises her eyebrow in reflex.
“Why would I help you, Lucas?” Luke can only think of how she makes a name as simple and boring as Lucas sound so sexy when she says it. Is incredible.
“Cut the act, beautiful. We both know you've never been able to resist me.” Y/N laughs amused at the boy’s sassiness. She won't admit it but she missed his eyes on her. She missed the way he uses that cocky stupid voice that melts her when he wants something. How he gets closer with each sentence, or his lips on her mouth.
Before she can counter attack, Alex stands in front of the guitarist raising his hands. “I know he’s an idiot, but we really need your help, Y/N. If we want Sunset Curve to gain popularity we have to start here, and this is our last year. Gaining popularity among the elite of the school would help us a lot.”
“We are getting desparate.” Reggie adds, a sad smile on his face.
“And pretending I made out with Luke in third period and getting to be homecoming dance queen and king helps you... why?”
“That crown is literally a test of popularity and status. It would put Luke on the same level as the popular kids like Savannah and Diego. People would be more interested in Sunset Curve after that. For now, for them we are only three good for nothing that one day will not appear around here again. You heard yourself that those two didn't think Luke was good enough."
Her face flushes with anger as soon as she remembers the contemptuous tone of voice they used to refer to Luke. If they hadn't been in the middle of the hall, she probably would have said a lot more than she did. That single comment is enough to make her decide, so without thinking Y/N asks “What do you need me to do?”
“Just play perfect couple with Luke until homecoming dance. Then you are queen and king, Sunset Curve gets the fans we deserve, you get to laugh at Savannah’s face and you can separate next day if you want to.”
“I’m not sure If someone is going to believe it.” She blurts out loud as she glances at the guitarist.
“Oh please, you know each others mouth better than your own names.” Reggie says without thinking, Luke snorted with laughter and Y/N blushes like crazy.
“Yeah, and you used to spend a lot of time together too, two weeks shouldn’t be that hard.” Alex tries to recover the seriousness of the situation to close the deal.
“Okay then. If I can help Sunset Curve and get that smirk of superiority off Savannah's face then sounds good to me. Are you willing to date me, Patterson?”
Their eyes meet again and without a sign of hesitation her now officially boyfriend for the next two weeks, answers.
“Beautiful, you have no idea.”
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There is something about relationships that never get to happen that make the heart weigh more, that nostalgia to be stronger, the person more difficult to forget. Luke can't help but remember during the last periods of the day just how good it felt to taste the girl's lips again. Feelings of desire, of familiarity, of belonging. All colliding and going deep into his bones.
He decided a long time ago he didn't do relationships, but if he did, it would have been with her. He was willing to break that rule for her, but she had the final decision and it wasn't him. He accidentally put himself in the perfect situation though. All those what if’s will finally have an answer.
For two weeks he can test what it would have been if Y/N Y/L had chosen him. And when he finally tries the experience he will be free. Free from all the what if’s, free from her, from her memory. And there's also the part of how much the band will benefit. The main objective of doing this, obviously.
The last hour is finally over and Luke sped off toward Reggie's truck. In front of it is Alex already waiting and he can see Reggie and Y/N also walking in the same direction. The four of them regroup and Y/N starts to discuss game plan.
“If we are going to do this, we are going to do it well. There will be a party at Finch's house this Saturday and the three of you are coming with me."
The three members of Sunset Curve make an annoyed face at the words of their friend. "That's exactly why no one supports you. You think you are too cool to hang out with the people but then you want everyone to happily buy your shirts and listen to your music."
“She has a point there.” Alex agrees, and puts his arm around her shoulder.
“Okay, let’s do this. If you all come with me, we can leave early and crash one of those places you usually play. Maybe even have some people of the party to come with us and hear you rock the shit out of that place.” All three smile with bright eyes In response.
“You got yourself a deal, pretty lady.” Reggie says in a flirting tone and winks at her. Luke gives him a light punch on the arm.
"I'll see you on Saturday in my house then, at nine. Goodbye boys." She winks at Luke and walks over to her car, making sure to do a perfect walk because she knows pretty well that the guitarist isn't going to stop watching her until she pulls out of the parking lot.
Luke gives her a perfect smile one last time before Y/N leaves school. These two weeks are going to be weird.
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The four members of the band are in the truck, Bobby decided to get out of school recently but a party and a gig sounds like a rad Saturday. Luke gets out and walks to the door to wait for Y/N to come out. When she finally comes down he feels like all the air is coming out of his lungs.
She's wearing the black Sunset Curve t-shirt that he forgot one of the many times he climbed up to the second floor of the house to see her. A short black skirt and one of his red flannels that he probably left there several months ago as well. Black fishnets stockings which he can't help but imagine ripping out with his teeth, her lips in that tone of red that drives him crazy, and her classic black boots that he hadn't seen since she started dating the cheating idiot.
“Genius huh? Is there anything that says more ‘Luke Patterson’s property’ than this? I don’t think so." She smiles proudly and blushes when she notices Luke's gaze locked on her legs. Fishnets may have been included in the outfit due to a certain weakness that the musician has towards them.
The hair that the guitarist is used to seeing in a perfect bun lately, is now loose and tousled. As rebellious as the day he met her, moving in harmonious tune to the rhythm of Now or Never.
Luke reaches out to to entwine his hand in her hair and whispers slowly into her ear “You look... fucking hell, you are not playing fair, baby.” Lightly biting her lobe when he’s done speaking.
They both linger in a trance for a few seconds, considering whether they should just walk in and lock the door. But before they can decide, the boys that already know this story pretty well and are sick of waiting for them while they flirt, get out of the truck. Reggie carries Y/N like a sack of potatoes and between Bobby and Alex take Luke by the arms, putting them in the vehicle so they can finally get to the lame party and then, the gig.
When they finally arrive, the eyes of almost all the girls go to the members of the band, who are definitely dressed for the occasion. Y/N can't help but notice how most of the cheerleaders wink at her boyfriend. Yeah, it’s not real and will last two weeks, but for now she justs wants to forget that part and enjoy the feeling of him being hers.
So she makes a small, harmless gesture to mark territory and puts her hand in the guitarist's back pocket.
Luke turns to see her, an amused smirk on his face. “Jealousy looks so hot on you, I wouldn't mind if you marked my lips with that red lipstick too."
That statement resonates in Y/N’s head. All the times Diego refused to kiss her so as not to stain himself and even forbade her to use that lipstick that for her was part of her brand returning to her head. Followed quickly by every night Luke came down after finishing playing and instantly attacked her lips with his, caring for nothing more than the feel of their tongues fighting for control.
“Not jealousy, just a quick reminder to everyone. You are all mine tonight.” She puts a little more pressure on the hand in his pocket and stands on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips.
“Dance with me?” She asks innocently while giving him a flirtatious smile.
“With you, always beautiful.” He smiles back, winking charmingly.
His hands find hers and she begins to dance and jump gracefully to the rhythm of the music as he spins her around, both singing the lyrics to each other with unmatched energy, happy to be together.
“Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through.” She sings with a determined voice, taking the musician by the hair and bringing their faces closer.
“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you.” Luke returns the verse with the same passion, just inches separating their lips. His beautiful and trained voice tends to sound like a more country vibe when he gets carried away and especially in more pop melodies like this, and honestly drives her crazy.
The fact that the rocker at heart gave in to listen to other genres for her and even remembered the lyrics was enough to melt her heart. The last time she was able to let herself go and sing at the top of her lungs like this was with him, listening to a mix of their favorite songs in his car while going for their favorite icecream. Whatever they had was a lot more deeper than what they are willing to admit.
“Did we really just see Luke sing and dance to a pop-country song?” Reggie asks the band, Alex and Bobby behind him laughing at the guitarist who blushes and kisses his date's forehead. “I am not going to discuss this. I'll go get us something to drink." He winks at her and dissapears into the crowd.
“I’ll go too, be right back.” Bobby announces leaving Y/N with Alex and Reggie, who smirk at her.
“It seems that pretending is easier than you thought.” Alex can't stop smiling, Reggie playfully itches the girl's ribs who grins from ear to ear.
"Everything always fits when I'm with him. I ruined my chance. I'm totally aware, and I'm not expecting anything from him, because I honestly don't deserve it. But I plan to enjoy every second of these two weeks that came from heaven to the fullest.”
“You should explain hi-” Before Reggie can finish speaking, Diego appears behind Y/N and tries to forcefully pull her by the arm.
The guys manage to react quickly and release her arm while stepping in front of her. But right away his teammates get behind him.
“Save yourselves the pain, she is going with me.” Diego says confidently, his face showing arrogance.
“Guys, ple-” She tries to stop them from getting hurt, but both step a little forward, determined to protect her no matter the cost.
“You are not taking her, Diego. But you are more than welcome to try.” Alex's voice sounds cool and calm, but Y/N can see how much his hands are shaking and her heart hurts at the sight.
They are all so into their own business that nobody notices the guitarist's return until his lips collide with his girl, who is surprised for a few seconds but immediately recognizes him and gives him space for his tongue to taste her mouth.
They both lose themselves in the kiss for a few seconds longer than necessary and then slowly separate. Y/N grinning from ear to ear as she tries to wipe some of her lipstick off Luke's mouth. He just smirks, as happy as ever.
"Sorry guys, do you need something?" He plays the innocent card. After that kiss, most of the people at the party are watching the scene, so Diego, who looks furious, chooses to leave without saying anything. Right away they can hear a long restrained breath from Reggie and Alex.
“You are a cocky genius, I'm not sure we could have won that one.”
“I’m not sure? Did you seriously think we had a chance?” Alex asks, clearly anxious after what had just happened.
Y/N stands in front of them and throws herself into their arms, whispering how many thanks she can say in a row. They return the hug and begin to relax in each others arms. Bobby and Luke join in the hug, and Luke whispers his own thanks to his friends.
The band decides that it’s time to go and to their surprise, when they let people know that they are going to play at a small club in the center of the city, some decide to follow them. On the way, Y/N spends her time wiping her lipstick off Luke’s face with some wipes she had in her bag, struggling not to press her lips against his every time he made her an adorable grimace or a flirtatious smile.
“You know the drill, beautiful.” Luke turns to see her directly in the eyes, concern on his face just like every time before.
“Front row, not a second out of your sight, so if I need something better wait for you guys to finish performing to get it. Better safe than sorry." She recites, proud to remember every word.
“Thank you, baby.” He smiles a little more calmly, gives her a light kiss on the cheek and starts to help take out the instruments.
They are only doing a few songs from their repertoire, but the energy they transmit drives everyone in the little club crazy. The Sunset Curve members look at a Luke they haven't seen in a long time. The energy and passion in his voice dedicated entirely to the little woman in the front row who sings with all her strength every word and melody, imitating Luke's guitar solos or Alex's drums with her arms.
The 15 students who decided to attend are close to Y/N, trying to get her attention from time to time but nothing can take her eyes off her friends. Not even she knew how much she had missed seeing them play. The look of maximum happiness on their faces.
The last song is one that the little club seems quite familiar with, but she had never heard it before. So it must have been written in the last six months.
“Had my chances, could've been where he is standing.
That's what hurts the most, girl, I came so close
But now you'll never know. Baby, I loved you first.”
The lyrics leave her breathless. Luke, who had made contact with her practically all night, now seems to avoid her eyes like a plague. She definitely has to ask Alex about this song before getting any ideas.
The four bow and get off the stage, Luke launches immediately for Y/N, some of the girls try to get his attention and even try to grab him by the arm or waist but he remains firm until his hands meet his girl's hip.
“What do you think?” Luke's fingers shaking in the grip on her waist tell her he's nervous. The fact that her opinion of them matters so much to him that it makes him feel insecure makes her heart skip a beat.
“It was amazing as always, rockstar.” A huge smile appears on the guitarist's face, who gently takes her face with his hands and kisses her nose. After all, he has to remember that they are only pretending to date and for now he has no good reason to push his lips against hers. It doesn't matter how much he needs her.
The way home is uneventful, Y/N sleeping in Luke's arms while Alex puts the guitarist's red flannel over her.
“Will they ever stop pretending they're ridiculously in love with each other?” Bobby asks Reggie as he turns his head to see the couple.
“They are both stubborn and allergic to real feelings. Especially love. They are so terrified that they have to sabotage themselves somehow.” Alex answers for Reggie who just nods without taking his eyes off the road.
"Do you really have to talk like I'm not here?" Luke asks, resting his chin delicately on the head of the woman in his arms.
Tonight felt unreal. Felt practically like one of the many dreams he has had with the girl throughout these months. Seeing her in his clothes was enough to make the night special, but without a doubt dancing in her arms, savoring every inch of her mouth and seeing her energetically sing each of his songs to end the night with her in his arms is just perfect. Reggie parks at Y/N’s after dropping Alex and Bobby, and as Luke decides how to get her to bed without waking her she sinks deeper into his chest.
"Carry me to the door hotstuff, I like to be in your sexy arms." Luke lets out a cheeky laugh in surprise, another laugh coming from Reggie.
“She’s so asleep, I can’t. Adorable though.” Luke agrees and takes her bag before walking down with her in his arms and carrying her effortlessly to the door.
“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy and complete again.” She murmurs in his ear before giving him a sweet peck in the lips and enter the house.
What the two of them took from tonight is that indisputably, they are both still head over heels for each other. But it was like that the first time and it just wasn't enough.
Days go by with the couple being the school's favorite gossip. People talking in the hallways about the special way Luke looks at his girlfriend, comparisons about the dry way Y/N used to be with Diego compared to how she is with the guitarist, always touching him somehow and spending all the time with him as possible, visibly much happier. Some also talking about how good the band sounds and wondering why they hadn't heard it before. Everything going according to plan.
On Thursday afternoon, Luke arranged to pick her up for the two of them to find him something formal enough for the dance. When Y/N opened the door she met his beautiful greenish hazel eyes, and swears that for a second she forgot how to breathe.
She knows this scene. He smiles sweetly at her, takes her hand and opens the door of the car for her. Multiple interesting memories inside this car coming back to her mind. His firm hands on her legs, his tongue testing her mouth, his hot moans after biting his lower lip...
“Beautiful? Whatcha thinking?” Luke's voice brings her back to the present, his hand goes directly to her thigh as all that many midnight drives and without saying anything he plays the girl's favorite album.
That’s it. If she wants a chance with him, she needs to make this right. “I- We really need to talk.” Hearing the tone of her voice, Luke senses what is coming. He was here before. So he turns off the car that hadn't even started to move yet and turns to look at her.
"I know we've been putting it off, but we have to talk about how it all ended, I-"
Luke interrupts her before she can finish, his voice sounds broken, sad, angry. "I really don't want to talk about how you preferred an idiot for whom you don't feel the remotest thing just because he'll get a football scholarship and this perfect future.”
She spends a few seconds processing his words. Did he really say what she thinks he said? "It wasn't like that, Luke."
"I know it looks like I can't compete with him, but I would have done anything for you. And I thought you knew that.”
She doesn't know what to do or say. She was so unconscious, so selfish, so heartless, that she didn't even think about how he could have understood the situation. In how much he must have suffered these months watching her with Diego, believing he wasn’t good enough. Believing that she chose someone who wasn’t him, because he wasn’t good enough.
He stays quiet, examining the girl who seems about to cling to tears. The anger evaporates instantly and he leans into her seat to wrap his arms tightly around her. She starts sobbing, but seems determined to talk.
“R- Remember the night we met? It was the first Sunset Curve presentation. I had just entered the little club, but your voice dragged me to the front row like a magnet. And when I was finally in front of the stage, I knew it. It was you. The butterflies that everyone talks about for the first time in my stomach. I knew I could never feel again something even close to what I was feeling at that moment.
I got carried away in your voice, dancing to the rhythm of the melody and recording every sound in my head. And when I opened my eyes again, yours were staring at me. And I understood that you felt it too. It was me, and you knew it. It was so natural, powerful, magnetic, deep. I loved you since the first day, Luke. How is that not going to scare me?
When the feelings started to get so strong they burned, I knew I had to run. You always made it very clear that relationships were not your thing, I could not continue to wait for something that from the beginning you made it clear you could not give.
Then Diego arrived at the right time to give me an exit, and I took it. I knew he just wanted to have me around to raise his good boy status, and feeling nothing was safer than feeling too much. So I lied. I lied to you, to me, to everyone. And I’m sorry, but I was so scared. I was a coward who should have done things differently.”
When she finally finishes pulling out what she's been saving for months, she pulls away from Luke to see his face. His eyes look crystal clear, his cheeks red. But his beautiful white smile lights up his face.
"Next time you love me so much that you can't bear it, let me know, please? I can step on your foot or sneeze in your face. I was literally going to ask you to be my girlfriend that weekend. I even wrote you a song."
“You were? The one you sang the other night?”
“Okay, I wrote you a lot of songs. Maybe too many. But the one I'm talking about is different. Maybe I'll let you listen to it one day. If you stick around long enough this time.”
She smirks and kiss him lightly on the lips, enjoying the feeling of being able to. He knows he reacted way too chill. But he also understands her feelings. What is the point of reproaching her for something they can no longer change? A bad decision made by a love so immense that it left her blind. He is simply not willing to waste any more time. They are finally going to do things right. Neither of them is going to self-sabotage it this time, and since he doesn't trust it, he'll put Alex and Reggie in charge to make sure.
The night of the dance arrives. Y/N is wearing a beautiful black dress and her classic red lips. Luke tried his best to look fancy and he's wearing a pretty cool suit but in a sleeveless version. His still fake girlfriend couldn't stop smiling when she saw him. Just perfect.
Dancing in his arms, letting him go only once in a while to dance with the other three members of Sunset Curve made the night amazing. The rest of these two weeks they spent it talking, laughing... making out. Enjoying the most of the time they lost. Even completely forgetting why they were faking it in the first place, until they ask the candidates to take the stage.
"And your king are queen are... Y/N Y/L and Diego Hernandez!"
They all turn to see Luke in shock. Just hearing their names together is enough to make him frustrated, but there's not much he can do right now. And that's when he remembers what he asked the boys to play for the king and queen's first dance. Great, now dance they’ll dance to his song together. Just his damn luck. He sabotaged himself again without imagining it.
They are crowned and Diego offers her his hand, not without first throwing a face of superiority to the guitarist. She walks but continues straight until she is in front of her lover.
Luke looks at her strangely, she smiles at him.
“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you. Remember?” She sings happily in his ear, and offers her hand.
“Dance with me?” He looks at her adoringly and takes her hand.
“Always, beautiful.”
They walk to the center of the floor, Alex begins to sing the first verse. Y/N rests her head on Luke's chest, her hands around his neck, as he presses her against him by the hip, wrapping her in his arms. His head bent to sing the song in her ear.
“I swear to God, I can see... you're still the girl in the club.”
Tears of happiness begin to flow from Y/N, the words that she never had the opportunity to know, finally getting revealed. Luke's sweet, soft voice in her ear. The perfect melody and the beautiful voice of Reggie and Alex in the background.
“And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast
We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love.”
The moment he sings in love, Y/N lifts her head to meet his eyes. He lifts his hands to her cheeks to wipe her tears, gently holding her face to make sure she sees him recite every word.
“And I'm not scared to say those words. With you, I'm safe.
We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love.”
The second Luke finishes singing, Y/N stands on tiptoe and pushes her lips against his. Tears of happiness continue to fall from her face, wrapped in a passionate, slow, deep kiss. He's all she wants. Her heart chose him since the very first day.
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“I can’t believe one of Luke’s random ideas it's what made them find their way back to each other. Reg, we tried for 6 months and we were never even close. Two weeks ‘pretending’ and bam! they are just fine.”
Both watch the happy couple dance now that they are official.
"You know what they say, Fake it till you make it.” Reggie smirks while watching Luke happily kiss Y/N.
“Fair. At least everything was fixed before we shoved Luke into the pool to see if Y/N would rescue him with a mouth-to-mouth kiss."
“We still could try, you know... for science.”
“Cool. Monday works for me. Do you think that even though he didn't win, we still have a chance to win some more fans?”
Reggie raises his head before answering, a smile appears when he sees the bunch of girls and boys who are spying on them just a few meters away. Probably waiting for them to finish talking to get closer.
“I think Sunset Curve will be just fine too, Alex.”
Thank you for reading✨
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honeypiehotchner · 3 years
Text
winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader
Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).
I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.
(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)
Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love). 
Word count: 9.4k
HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.
Like she’s doing now.
“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.
The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.
You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.
You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.
“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”
“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.
You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”
“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”
“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”
“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.
She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”
“You should go.”
You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”
“Why don’t you want to?”
You give her a look. “You know why.”
“I don’t.”
She does. She knows exactly what happened there.
“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”
“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”
“So you do remember!”
“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”
You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”
You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.
+++
It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.
Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.
You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.
More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.
That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.
You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.
But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.
He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.
He was correct.
It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.
But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.
Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.
That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.
And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.
The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.
Until Aaron met Haley.
Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.
You watched your best friend fall in love.
And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.
You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.
Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.
Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).
How he thought he might want to marry her one day.
The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?
But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.
He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.
Then came the summer before his senior year.
It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.
June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.
July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.
Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?
But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.
Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.
You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.
You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.
The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.
You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.
You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.
+++
You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.
Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.
But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.
You need coffee.
You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.  
Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.
Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.
You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.
So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.
You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.
Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.
Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.
Maybe he won’t recognize me.
But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.
Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.
If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?
The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?
Who is he?
You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?
You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.
You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.
Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.
“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.
“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”
He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.
The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.
Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.
“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.
And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.
Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.
Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.
It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.
“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”
“You stole my question,” he jokes.
“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”
He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”
“The B-A-What?”
“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”
Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”
“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”
“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”
“We’re a team,” he offers.
“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”
He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”
You give him a look. “Of course I do.”
“It’s not great.”
“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”
“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”
“You what?”
He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”
“Intriguing.”
“I can’t believe you’re interested.”
“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”
“I remember,” he says quietly.
And just like that, you remember, too.
It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.
“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”
“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”
“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”
“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”
“How is she doing?”
“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”
“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.
“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”
It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”
“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”
You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.
“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”
“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”
“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”
That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”
“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”
“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”
“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”
“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”
“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”
“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.
“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.
Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.
“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”
He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”
A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.
You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”
You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.
Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.
“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.
“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”
“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.
And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”
“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”
“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.
He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”
You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”
“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.
But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”
“Lucky for you, I’m free.”
He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”
“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”
“I was going to ask,” he admits.
You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”
After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.
He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.
“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”
“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”
Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.
You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.
Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.
Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.
+++
After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.
But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.
He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.
You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.
You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.
In the end, your prediction was correct.
“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.
The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”
“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.
You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”
She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”
There it is.
“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”
“Oh, I knew that already.”
You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”
“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”
“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”
She grimaces.
“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”
“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”
“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”
“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”
“Did he seem angry when you asked?”
“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”
“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”
“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”
“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”
Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”
Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”
“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”
“Shut up.”
She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”
“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”
While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.
Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today
You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.
He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.
You try not to think too much about it.
+++
And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.
You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.
Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.
You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.
“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.
You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”
“Aaron?”
“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.
“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.
“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”
“Okay…”
You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”
Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”
Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.
“So it’s...a date, then?”
“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”
“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”
“Who says?”
“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”
“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”
“Same difference.”
“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”
“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.
+++
You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.
“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.
You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.
That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”
“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”
“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”
“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”
“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”
“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”
“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”
“They can’t be that bad.”
“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”
“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”
“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”
You blink. “They do?”
“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”
“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”
“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”
“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”
He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”
“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.
But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.
“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”
Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”
You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”
“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”
Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”
You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.
“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”
“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.
She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.
Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”
“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”
“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.
+++
You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.
You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.
Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.
Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?
You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.
But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.
It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.
He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.
You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.
You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.
Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.
Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.
But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.
“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”
“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.
When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”
“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”
“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”
“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.
Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.
After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.
In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”
From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”
“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”
He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”
“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mhm.”
The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.
+++
After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.
You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.
“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”
Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”
“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”
He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”
“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”
“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”
“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”
Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”
You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”
“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.
The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.
“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.
You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”
“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.
“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.
The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.
“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.
“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.
“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”
“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”
“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.
“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”
The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.
“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”
“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”
“In-- Wow, okay.”
“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.
“I see that,” you chuckle.
Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”
“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You too,” you smile.
“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”
“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”
“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.
She nods. “Definitely.”
Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”
“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.
“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.
“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”
“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”
Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”
You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”
“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”
You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.
“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.
“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.
You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”
For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.
Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.
You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.
Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.
+++
After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.
You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.
You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.
The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.
“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”
Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.
“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”
You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”
“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”
Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”
“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”
You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.
“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.
Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”
You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.
It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.
The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.
You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.
Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.
He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.
Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.
Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.
“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”
He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.
He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.
You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.
You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”
You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.
You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”
Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”
“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”
Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”
“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?”
You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”
This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”
“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”
Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”
“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”
“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”
“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.
“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”
“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”
“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”
You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.
“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”
“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.
He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”
You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”
“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”
“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.
And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.
His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.
From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.
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skeezsbbygirl · 4 years
Text
dive + bang chan
hello lovelies! \ (•◡•) / im sorry it took so long for me to post another scenario since i had to deal with school stuff :/ this is for anon who requested for a crush!chan, i hope you enjoy!!
REQUEST BOX IS CLOSED. 
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"-and that's why I'm never skipping training."
You could faintly hear Felix's rant in the background -- something about having to train harder and longer during the week in payment of skipping three days worth of swim practice. But your mind was too preoccupied with the sight you were met with as soon as you entered the university's swim center, and no, you weren't gawking at the intricate details -- which probably cost a fortune -- that embellished the swimming grounds, it was more of a someone who caught your attention.
"They're here!" Jisung cheered from the farther edge of the olympic-size pool. "Lix!" Chris called out for the boy beside you, who was still cursing the older male under his breath and possibly in his head too, as you could just imagine him mentally listing off ways to push the black-haired male into the pool, judging by the look on your best friend's face.
"He can swim, you idiot," you deadpanned which caused Felix to stop in his tracks, staring at you in shock. "How did you even?" he asked, voice softening as his eyebrows contorted in confusion. Instead of giving him an answer, you lightly smacked his right arm, earning a yelp from the male. "Don't even think about it," you playfully scolded him.
"Today was arm day," he complained as he rubbed the spot where your hand met his flesh a few seconds ago. "I'm sorry, but you knew you had that one coming," you replied. "Are you psychic or something?" Felix questioned, his attention still on you with his hand still rubbing the same spot.
You just rolled your eyes at him as you neared Felix's teammates, sitting beside Jeongin and Seungmin, who immediately made room for you the moment Jisung acknowledged -- well practically announced -- your presence as you stepped foot inside the swim center. You were met with a chorus of various greetings, to which you smiled and waved in return. "Hey, you haven't been visiting us for a while," Seungmin noted and the other boys agreed. And in that moment, you quickly tried to rack your brain with a plausible excuse. "I'm a med student and finals are coming up, what do you expect?" you joked.
"I think Chan-hyung can help. He has a lot of spare time nowadays," Hyunjin offered, shooting a knowing look towards your direction. You almost choked on your saliva, but you managed to regain your composure and shrug off Hyunjin's attempt to embarass you infront of the whole team, especially infront a certain someone.
"Yeah, (y/n). I took some of the courses that you have now," Chris agreed, totally oblivious to what the younger male was hinting at, which made you breathe a sigh of relief. "I might have to take your offer," you paused as you shifted your gaze towards Felix and his run away accomplices, "But it seems like you have your hands full."
Everybody, except for Chris, Minho, and Seungmin, groaned in annoyance. "You didn't have to remind him," Changbin whined.
Chris chuckled at the younger one's response. "They got an earful from coach this morning. He’ll be supervising them during training, which means I have some time to kill."
"I'll let you know," you flashed him a small smile, biting the insides of your cheek in your attempt to suppress a full grin.
At this point, Hyunjin could've just blurted out that you had been catching feelings for their team's captain.
Chris, better known as Chan to his teammates, was the swim team's captain. He was quite popular alongside his teammates as he broke records, did well in his academic endeavors, and practically looks like a living embodiment of a god -- so needless to say, he attracts a lot of attention.
A year ago, you didn't think that you'd actually have a chance at being in the same circle of friends, but with Felix being your best friend and making it on the team, you were immediately welcomed into their group. You got to know more about them, way past those senseless rumors thrown around the campus. A few months into hanging out with them, you guys looked out for each other like family, but you saw Chris in a different light. He might have dropped hints here and there, but you weren't really sure if he was being playful or serious.
Sure, he'd ask you to hang out with him once in a while and he treats you sweetly. But, maybe he was being friendly? Or worse, maybe he just saw you like a little sister?
However, the both of you had gotten even closer over the past few weeks, since Chris has been teaching you how to swim. You took up his offer in order to skip your swimming classes next semester, but this would only be possible if a member from the team taught you the course and gave you a pass. It was a win-win situation, you lessen your load next semester and you get to spend more time with Chris.
"Alright boys, let's do some laps," Chris commanded, making his teammates sigh in defeat, following his orders nonetheless. "You sure you're okay here, (y/n)?" Chris asked you as he got up from his seat. You nodded, "Yeah, don't worry."
Two hours passed and the boys were finally done, all showered and ready to head home. "Bub, let's go. I'll walk you to your dorm," Felix spoke as he approached you, grabbing your bag for you and helping you up from your seat with his free hand. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," Felix turned towards his teammates. "Bye guys," you smiled and waved, the guys happily returned your gesture and told you to head home safely.
"I'll let you know," Felix mocked you in his best impression of your voice as soon as you guys exited the building, referring to your interaction with Chris a couple of hours ago. "I do not sound like that," you gasped, faking an offended expression. Felix laughed and continued his comical representation of you. "But seriously, ask him out already, " he said, assertion evident in his tone. "If it were that easy, we'd be dating for three months now," you argued. "It is that easy. I'm pretty sure hyung likes you back," Felix insisted, still set on convincing you to confess.
"Alright, I'll think about it, okay?"
[Two days later...]
The library was less congested during the early hours and considering that it was a Sunday, most students are out cold -- either passed out in their bed due to lack of sleep within the whole week or passed out due to a hangover. You settled for a seat at the second floor, near the computer section, making it easier for you to access the printers in case you needed to print out reviewers that you missed. Once you got your stuff laid out, you started your task.
A few hours into your self-proclaimed study session, a hand gently placed a drink on your desk, causing you to look up at the owner.
"Chris."
You greeted him with a smile as you gestured for him to take a seat beside you. "I figured you'd be here," he said, a light chuckle erupting from his lips. He carefully slid the takeout coffee cup closer to you. "Chai tea, it's good for you," he claimed. You muttered a 'thank you' and sipped the warm drink, which instantly spread throughout your body, allowing you to relax and ease some of the tension that was collectively gathering on your shoulders.
"Training?" you asked as you noted Chris' attire, the team's signature sweater, black shorts, and black vans. "Yeah, I'm heading out in twenty minutes," he replied and you nodded. "But I decided to stop by and check to see if you were here, and maybe ask you to hang out later," he added and quickly averted your gaze as a sheepish smile formed on his lips.
“Yeah, I’m down,” you agreed, taking another sip of the drink that was in your possession, suddenly finding the cup interesting -- your attempt to conceal the blush that dusted your cheeks. 
Chris cleared his throat and stood up. “Cool, well I should get going before the boys accuse me of being late,” he said. A soft laugh escaped your lips, knowing full well that the boys would try anything to evade their punishment and pin it on their captain. “I’ll see you later,” you replied, flashing him a smile as he did the same and went on his way.
A couple of hours later, you decided to conclude your study session and head back to your dorm. As soon as you stepped out from the building, a message notification from your phone stopped you in your tracks.
[Chris]: 7 pm at the swim center, bring a change of clothes
[You]: another swimming lesson??
[Chris]: you’ll see ;) i’ll pick you up, beautiful.
[You]: alright, see you later :)
[Chris]: later, bub
You smiled at your phone. This is what you mean by Chris’ actions hinting at something that crossed the line of being a good friend. Sure, Felix -- even Hyunjin and Jisung -- calls you a nickname every once in a while, but with Chris, it comes off different, it feels different. You feel butterflies in your stomach every time he graces you with a sweet gesture. 
But you try to push those feelings and fantasies away, not wanting to expect anything from him and end up getting disappointed, or maybe end up hating him for not reciprocating your feelings. After all, Chris is a nice guy, you’re pretty sure he’s just looking out for you as a friend, plus he probably just wanted to get your swimming course done and over with.
The time he had set for you both to meet quickly rolled by as you were now walking alongside Chris, your bag hung from his shoulders as he insisted on carrying it for you when he came and picked you up from your dorm.
“Go change, I’ll wait here,” Chris said, handing you your things and walking off towards the bleachers where his gym bag was settled. 
Soon, Chris was leading you towards the pool, taking off his shirt before jumping into the water. He extended a hand for you to take and you easily complied, feeling his grip tighten as you sit at the edge of the pool, carefully easing yourself into the water.
As you landed, you came face to face with Chris. You averted your gaze from him and cleared your throat.
“Today’s the last day of your course, by the way,” Chris spoke, your hand still within his hold. “Really? Already?” you exclaimed, looking up at him. “Yeah, so do your best,” he answered.
You nodded earnestly, wanting to make him proud in a way and of course, getting to get a free pass for your swimming class next semester. 
Chris went over the whole course that night, asking you every now and then if you had anything that you wanted to clarify. He showed you various techniques and tips on how to swim better in order to prevent yourself from getting injured. 
“Your posture on that last lap was better,” Chris complimented as you demonstrated the last pointer he gave you. “Thank you, captain,” you teased, which earned you a laugh from the male. 
You eased yourself up on the side of the pool, with your legs still in contact with the water. “Chris, thank you for doing this,” you beamed and as you spoke, Chris approached you, his hands coming up to your knees as he settled himself between your legs. Your eyes widened at his sudden movement, not sure where your hands should go so you opted to place them at your sides.
“Anything for my favorite girl,” Chris answered.
You stared at him wide-eyed, unsure of how to respond. What was he up to?
“Chris, stop joking around,” you replied as you lightly hit his arm in a joking manner. And as you did, Chris caught your hand and placed it on his shoulder, repeating the same motion on your other hand. He moved closer, his face now inches away from yours.
“I’m serious, (y/n),” Chris stated as he snaked his arms around your waist. “You know I didn’t just sign up for this in order to help you. I did this because I wanted to get to know you better, I wanted to be close to you, I wanted your attention,” he added, his brown orbs staring intently at yours -- desperately trying to convince you that he was dead serious. He wouldn’t play with your feelings like that, no way.
“You had my attention since day one, dummy,” you breathed out. “I like you a lot, Chris.”
Upon hearing your confession, Chris broke into a cheesy grin. The tip of his ears turning red as he giggled from embarrassment. “I like you a lot too, (y/n),” he responded, leaning an inch closer to rest his forehead on yours. He stared down at your lips, making your breath hitch.
“Can I?”
You nodded and he then closed the gap between the two of you. You could feel your senses going into overdrive as he kissed you, softly at first, and then with a shift of intensity that evoked new sensations you never thought existed or at least, those that you never thought you would be capable of feeling.
You pulled away first. Chris’ eyes were hazy, his facial expression mirroring yours as you looked at him with such affection.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he planted a peck on your forehead. “Well, you’re ethereal,” you replied, making Chris chuckle. He leaned in for another kiss, but you turned away, making him kiss your cheek instead. Chris looked at you in confusion.
“I would really like to kiss you again, but I’m getting cold,” you giggled. “Right, of course,” Chris agreed as he pulled away from your embrace, easing himself out of the pool and coming to your aid as he stood you up.
After an hour or so, the both of you finally exited the center with your hands in his. You shuddered as the night breeze grazed your skin. Chris noticed and stopped you in your tracks. He gently dropped your bags on the ground as he pulled a black hoodie from his bag.
“Arms up, babygirl,” he ordered, sliding the said article of clothing over your head and letting it fall onto your frame. “Better?” he asked while he fixed your hair, tugging some of the strands that were caught within the fabric. “Yeah, thanks,” you replied, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.
“So, do I get a pass on the course?” you questioned as the both of you continued your walk towards your dorm. Chris hummed in thought, “Under one condition.”
“And that is?” you asked, raising one eyebrow at him. “You say yes to being my girlfriend,” he answered, making you blush. “I thought the answer was already obvious,” you stated. “I wanted to hear it from you, though,” Chris insisted.
“Yes, Chris. I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“What was that?”
“I said yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“I can’t hear you, (y/n).”
You playfully rolled your eyes at him and walked ahead, leaving him a few feet behind you. 
“Babyyyy,” Chris called for you, kissing your cheek as he caught up with your pace. “I was just kidding,” he cooed. “And since you’re my girl, you have to be present in all of my swim meets from now on,” he added. “First row seat?” you asked to which Chris nodded in response. “Finally!” you cheered as Chris beamed at your reaction.
“You excited to see me up close?” he asked, a cocky grin forming on his lips, certain that you would agree, but you decided otherwise.
“No. I’ve always wanted to see Hyunjin up close,” you deadpanned and Chris’ grin fell, only to be replaced with a small pout. You bit your bottom lip in order to suppress the smile that was tugging on your lips. You eventually gave in when you heard Chris’ reply.
“It’s the way he throws his hair back, huh?”
You let out a laugh. “You see right through me,” you gasped, placing a hand on your chest as you faked a shocked expression. Chris gave you a look which halted your comical antics. “Alright, I’ll stop,” you said.
“My eyes will only be on you, I promise,” you assured, tugging at Chris’ sleeve in order to make him lean down, grabbing the opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips as he complied with your gesture. “It better be,” he replied and pulled you closer to him.
[The next day...]
“Nice hoodie, (y/n),” Jisung noted as you approached their table at the cafeteria with Chris by your side, who was holding two trays of food. The boys immediately looked up and cheered upon hearing Jisung’s teasing. “Fucking finally,” Felix exclaimed, “I thought I’d have to lock you guys up and force you to confess to each other,” he added dramatically which earned him a chorus of laughter from the others.
“Shut up, Lix,” you whined, but you couldn’t resist a smile as you saw their reactions.
As you and Chris sat down, he gently pushed one of the trays towards you, asking you if you needed anything else. You shook your head and muttered a small ‘thank you’.
“Hyung, I need more water,” Changbin fake whined, batting his eyelashes at the older male. “Go get your own,” Chris replied, not even sparing the younger lad a glance. The boys laughed hysterically, dragging out their amusement for as long as they could. 
Soon enough, the laughter died down as you guys engaged in conversation, only to be interrupted by Seungmin who reminded everyone of the time.
“I’ll see you later, then?” Chris asked as the others took care of clearing the table. You nodded and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You missed, baby,” Chris joked, earning him a light slap on his arm. He faked a hurt expression, hissing in pain to add into his dramatic act.
“Now, I’m injured. Looks like I have to skip training,” Chris lifted his shoulders in a half shrug, intertwining his arm with yours and pulling you towards the opposite direction where his members were headed. You halted his playful attempt as you pulled away from his grip.
“Chris, no,” you giggled at his actions. “I’ll meet you as soon as my classes are done, okay baby?” you assured as you gave him a kiss on his lips. 
“Fine,” Chris sighed in defeat. 
“Hyung, hurry up!”
“Save your smooching for later and somewhere private!”
The both of you chuckled upon hearing the boys’ hollers. “One more for good luck,” Chris requested as he leaned in and gave you a peck. “Now, go,” you said, pushing him away and watching him jog towards the boys.
2K notes · View notes
bobohu4eva · 3 years
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Pink Lace - Chapter 4
Characters: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn
Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut
Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo
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When you woke up your head was pounding. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of bed anyway.
“Hey Mia” you spoke as you knocked on her door “I need a favor.” 
She opened the door just enough for you to see her tired form, bedhead and all looking back at you. 
“It’s 9am on a Sunday what the hell y/n.” She opened the door the rest of the way and rubbed her eyes. “What is it?” 
You felt bad waking her up, but you needed to tell her what had happened. And you needed your car back, which was still parked at the club. 
“I’ll explain more on the way, but Baekhyun drove me home from work last night and I need you to take me to my car.” 
You saw your roommates eyes widen “He drove you home? Are you insane?” 
“Just let me explain everything, I promise it’s not as crazy as it sounds.” 
“Okay, let me get dressed though.” She looked at you skeptically, closing the door and meeting you in the living room soon after to get going.
“So he drove you home.” She stated simply, keeping her eyes on the road as she made her way through the streets towards your work. 
“I know it sounds bad but he saved my ass last night. I was so nervous about him possibly showing up that I let some assholes get me blackout drunk. When he showed up he took me into a room to sleep it off and drove me home.” 
“You got wasted at work? You know how dangerous that is.” She reprimanded you. 
“I know, I know. And I usually don’t, but these guys seemed nice and I was so nervous that I just kept taking the shots they bought me. The assholes had me in a VIP room for a while too, from what Baekhyun told me. I can’t remember any of it though, thank god. All I remember is laughing and having a good time and then waking up with my head on his lap.” 
“Baekhyun’s lap? How do you know he didn’t just make it all up to seem like some sort of hero?” 
“Yeah.. He usually always gets there early, like 7 or 8, and when I woke up it was past midnight. He told me I was asleep for a few hours.” 
“So he just sat and watched you sleep that whole time... that’s not weird at all.” 
“I told you it’s not like that! If it wasn’t for him I would’ve been all on my own last night. I don’t even wanna think about all the fucked up shit that could’ve happened to me in there if he hadn’t taken me somewhere safe to sleep it off.” 
Mia stayed quiet. She knew you were right, Baekhyun had actually helped you. 
“I can’t explain it but it’s different with him, he’s not like the other guys there at all.” 
“Y/n, do you like him?” 
Her question caught you off guard. You didn’t know what to say. Did you like Baekhyun? 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean do you like him as more than just a customer.” 
“Well...” There was a pause, and you knew she could tell what was going on in your head. 
As you were trying to form your thoughts, Mia was already pulling into the parking lot of your work. She parked next to you, but before unlocking the doors she looked over at you. 
“You know you can tell me anything. I’m not gonna judge you if you have a crush on your professor, even if I think it’s a really bad idea. You’re my best friend.” 
“I don’t know what I feel. He’s always so sweet to me that it’s hard not to like him, even though I know I shouldn’t. I know I’m pushing these feelings down but they’re getting harder and harder to ignore.” 
She gave you a sympathetic look and you heard her car doors unlock. “Let’s get home, it’s too early to be thinking about this now anyway.” 
You got out and entered your own car, starting it and making your way back towards your shared home. When you got back you started making breakfast for the both of you, as both a thank you and I’m sorry for waking her up so early on a weekend. 
The two of you were in the middle of destroying some cinnamon rolls when she caught you off guard again. “Do you have a picture of Baekhyun? This whole time I’ve been  imagining him as a smelly neckbeard. He’s cuter than that, right?” She asked you, and you couldn’t help but crack up. 
“Yes” you laughed “he’s cute, really cute actually. Definitely the most attractive professor I’ve had in a while. Let me see if I can find something.” 
“Ooooo yes I wanna see.”
You logged into your universities website and started searching around, seeing if there were any photos of him there. To your dismay you couldn’t find anything on there, so your next guess was facebook. You typed in his full name, and what popped up was not what you had been expecting. 
There were several posts, all fairly old, and all pictures of him with his arm around a beautiful girl. His ex. 
Mia saw the change in your face and immediately snatched your phone out of your hand to see for herself. 
“What the fuck y/n...” She said as she stared at the phone, eyes wide. “THIS is him? This man right here.” She turned the phone around, pointing at him. 
“...Yeah. And I think that’s his ex in the picture too.” 
“Fuck the ex y/n this man is fucking beautiful... no wonder you like him. I would too. I’m sure half the girls in your class would love to hop on that.” 
You took your phone back, looking intently at the image on the screen. 
“She’s pretty.” 
“Who? His ex? Of course she is, look at him!” You just kept staring at the picture of the two of them together, feeling how it made your stomach twist up in discomfort. “Damn you do like him if you’re that stressed over one picture with his ex.” 
You knew she was just teasing, but she was still right. 
“Shut up, I just haven’t seen her before. I knew about her but seeing a picture of them together feels different.” 
“Y/n you have the fattest crush on this guy come on just admit it.” 
“It’s not a crush! I just think he’s an interesting person, and he’s attractive, and he likes me, soo..” 
“So what? Are you gonna try to fuck your professor?” 
“MIA” You shouted, and grabbed a pillow to hit her with. 
“Come on if I had a professor that hot I would too! And you already know he’s into you too.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, prompting you to roll your eyes. 
“He’s my professor, that’s the problem.” You sighed. “And my customer. Starting anything with him is a bad idea.” 
“It’s definitely a bad idea, but it could be really fun.” 
“An hour ago you thought I was crazy for letting him drive me home and now you’re telling me I should sleep with my professor just cause he’s hot?!” 
“Well I didn’t know what he looked like then! You should’ve at least told me he was cute.” 
“You’re so shallow!” 
“I’m not shallow! Y/n you need some spice in your life, maybe he could be good for you. And he’s rich.” Her eyes suddenly went wide, before asking you, “What car does he drive?” 
“An Audi... we still don’t know if he is though! He’s still just a professor, remember?” 
“You should try to find out how he has all this money, what if he’s secretly a mafia boss or something.” 
You only rolled your eyes. Sweet, shy little Baekhyun, a mafia boss? It was laughable. He was way too nice. 
“If he is rich, I don’t know how. Maybe he’s just a trust fund baby or something.” 
“Yeah maybe, but you’re gonna find out! Did he pay you last night?” 
That thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, you assumed your money bag was empty when you got home since you hadn’t given any dances but you hadn’t looked inside of it either. “I don’t know... let me check.” 
You got up and went to your room, returning with the bag. You sat back down in the living room with Mia and dramatically unzipped it, before holding it upside down and shaking it. Both you and Mia gasped at what fell out. Hundred after hundred fell until your living room couch was decorated with hundred dollar notes. 
“What the fuck...” You heard Mia whisper, obviously just as shocked as you. 
You gathered the money and counted the bills. Over two thousand dollars had been in that bag. You looked at your friend in disbelief. “He must’ve paid me for every hour I was asleep...” 
“Holy shit” 
“I have to give it back, this is too much.” You started shoving the money back into the bag, but Mia grabbed your wrist, stopping you. 
“Are you crazy? He gave you the money for a reason! You’re basically set for the rest of the semester now.” She was looking you in the eyes intently now, not letting you ignore her. 
“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t even give him a dance or anything I was literally just asleep and then cried a lot, he shouldn’t have paid me at all.” You said, shaking your head in disbelief.
“It’s your money and I can’t tell you what to do with it but I’d keep it if I were you. You’ll probably just hurt his feelings trying to give it back.” 
“I don’t care. I’m giving it back. Especially if he is just a professor I don’t want him spending any more money on me.” 
“It’s up to you...” She looked skeptical. You knew she wanted you to keep the money so she could reap some of the benefits as well, although she would’ve never admitted to it. Deep down you just couldn’t help but worry that Baekhyun couldn’t afford to give you that much. You had to at least try to give it back. 
The rest of Sunday went by in a blur of netflix movies and youtube videos. Sundays were your lazy days, a sacred tradition you were dedicated to keep. You knew however that when Monday rolled around, you were going to have to try to give Baekhyun his money back. You weren’t sure what that would look like, but for now the plan was to just corner him after class and tell him he needed it more than you did. Hopefully, he would accept it and that would be the end of it. 
~
Class on Monday was even more confusing than the previous days. You felt like you understood less with each passing class period, not more. The concepts he talked about only got more and more abstract, to the point where you had little clue what was going on at all. 
You were anxious about class ending as well, since you were going to have to face him to try to return his money. 
Eventually the lecture ended, and today you had to wait for several other students to talk to him first before he could get to you. They all had questions about their essays, the essay you had yet to even start. 
You knew Baekhyun saw you waiting and purposefully made you go last, although this time you were grateful. 
“Do you need help with you essay too?” He asked once he was done talking to the last student. You shook your head. 
You glanced towards the door, making sure the last student was out of the room before before pulling out the stack of cash that had been in your bag Sunday morning. “I can’t accept this.” You said, placing it on his desk. 
Baekhyun looked surprised, however he still wasn’t going to make this easy for you. 
“Why not?” He asked simply, looking genuinely confused. 
“I have plenty of money already, from you. I didn’t even give you a dance or anything and I know you don’t make THAT much as a professor and I just-”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me y/n. Just keep it. I promise I’ll be just fine without it.” 
“No. You need it more than I do, I already have enough to keep me going for a while and this was too much, I didn’t even do anything to deserve it.” 
“Y/n. Please. Just take it.” The look on his face was tired. You could tell he was telling the truth, he wanted you to have it, but that didn’t stop you from feeling guilty, and you weren’t taking no for an answer. 
“You’re a college professor, not some hotshot CEO, I know you don’t have this kind of money Baekhyun. I’m not keeping it.” You said, crossing your arms. 
Baekhyun just sighed, scratching the back of his head. He looked annoyed, but also somehow.. sad? 
“I told you there’s a lot you don’t know about me. And I’m not taking it back.” He said staring down at the wad of cash. Obviously he wasn’t taking no for an answer either.
“Baekhyun pleaaase” You looked at him again, giving him your best puppy eyes but he wasn’t having it. His face remained stoic, the only visible emotion was a twinge of what looked like sadness. 
“Y/n...” He sighed again. “I’m going to my office now. You can come with me, or you can take your money and go home.” He said sternly.
You pouted, but picked the money back up, shoved it back in your pocket, and followed him anyway. Eventually he unlocked the door to what you assumed to be his office and he held the door for you to walk in. He sat down at his desk, and you sat across from him on the other side. As you looked around, you couldn’t help but smile at how Baekhyun the office was. The space was very cozy, filled with little trinkets and lots of books, all of which you were sure would make absolutely no sense to you. Everything felt so much like him. He had pictures of him and his friends sprinkled throughout as well, and the room even smelled like his comforting scent. 
You took the wad of cash back out of your pocket and placed it on his desk. He didn’t acknowledge it. 
Once both of you were sitting down, an awkward silence filled the air. Baekhyun was sitting right across from you, but instead of the usual intense eye contact you’d grown accustomed to, he was staring solemnly down at his desk. 
He was the first one to break the silence. 
“My parents died in a freak accident last December.” He said it without looking up at you, eyes still fixated on his desk. “A semi hit them going 20 over. They both died on impact.” 
Your stomach lurched. “Baekhyun wh-”
“Between the two of them they had quite a bit of money. I inherited it. I could quit this job if I wanted to. I have more than I even know what to do with, so just keep the money, please.” 
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know...” Your voice was barely loud enough for Baekhyun to hear. Finally he looked up and you met his eyes. 
“There’s no way you could’ve. I understand why you probably thought what you did but I definitely don’t need it, so keep it.” 
“But-”
“If anything” he interrupted “I feel bad I couldn’t give you more. We were up there longer than what I paid you for but that’s all the cash I had on me and I didn’t wanna have to leave you alone to go to the ATM.” 
“Baekhyun, I...”
“You can go now, sorry if that was uncomfortable but I wanted to tell you before you insisted on giving the money back.” He said, scooting the cash back towards your end of the desk. His expression was once again blank, making it impossible for you to try to figure out what was going on in his head. 
“It’s okay. I’m sorry about your parents.” 
Although he had told you you could leave, you found yourself planted in the chair and against your better judgement, you stayed. Maybe it was the cozy feel of the room, or the comforting smell of old books and vanilla, but you didn’t want to leave yet. 
“Were you really close with them?”
He smiled at your question, and because you were still sitting in front of him, even though you didn’t have to be. 
“Yeah, they were amazing parents. They always supported the things I was passionate about. Lots of parents would get mad at their kid for studying something as useless as philosophy but they always had my back.” He sighed solemnly, the sadness making it’s way onto his face. “You never really learn to appreciate things until they’re taken from you. I should’ve visited them more often, told them I loved them more. Everything I have now is because of them.”
“I’m sure they were really proud of you.” 
“Yeah, luckily I was able to make the best out of my degree. Most people who study philosophy aren’t as lucky and end up doing something totally unrelated. I at least get to teach people about something I’m passionate about.”
“Is that why you keep working here even if you don’t need the money?” 
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “ And I know my parents wouldn’t want me to quit just because of the money. It would also get awfully boring to just sit around at home all day and not work anyway. I like having somewhere to go and feel productive.” He paused for a second, eyes meeting yours again. “And if I wasn’t here I wouldn’t get to see you.” His face turned up into a smile with his last sentence. 
At first his words made you think he was just trying to find an excuse to hit on you, but his face told a different story. His smile was so gentle and welcoming, it didn’t feel like any kind of sexual advance, just his raw emotions. Emotions that he was willing to show you without any filter. Baekhyun had always been so open with his feelings with you, it made you feel even worse for how hesitant you were about your own.
You couldn’t help the pink tint growing on your cheeks at his statement. 
“You’re blushing.” He said, now grinning. 
“Shut up.” You tried to hide your face, but with him sitting directly across from you, staring intently there was nothing you could hide.
“You’re lucky I like you enough to let you talk to me like that, any other student would be in trouble.” 
“So you admit I get special treatment?” You asked, leaning back in the chair and crossing your arms, one eyebrow raised at him. 
Before answering, Baekhyun leaned towards you, resting an elbow on the desk, halving the distance between the two of you. “Sweetheart, I’ve never even spoken to a student outside of campus. Special treatment is an understatement.” 
Your face turned an even deeper shade of red at his use of the pet name, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. 
“Y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you as casually as one would ask about the weather. Your eyes widened, not at all expecting him to ask such a thing. 
For a moment you just stared at him in disbelief, hoping he’d say something else but his expression remained the same. Eventually you shook your head, but before he could ask you anything more you had your own question for him. 
“What happened with your ex?” 
Immediately his face fell into a deep frown. You’d caught him off guard again, and this time he didn’t quite know what to say. 
“Well...” He said, still pausing to think. “After I got the inheritance from my parents things just changed. All we did was fight about money. She didn’t even seem to care that my parents were dead. She just wanted access to the money. Eventually she realized I wasn’t going to give it to her and she left me.” 
“I’m so sorry, that’s awful.” 
“But that’s how I got to meet you.” He smiled, taking one of your hands in his. “I’m glad she left me when she did, and Chanyeol talked me into going to the club that night.” 
“Baekhyun...” You felt yourself getting scared again. The things he was telling you and the way he held your hand was beginning to feel too intimate, to a point where you were becoming anxious. You felt an unfamiliar sensation blooming in the pit of your stomach. 
“I remember when he pitched the idea to me, I called him a dumbass.” He laughed. “I really didn’t wanna go but he dragged me in there.” 
“Well I’m glad he did too.” You responded shyly, before you could think twice about your own words.  
Now it was Baekhyun's turn to blush. He was already shocked enough that you were willingly staying in his office, hearing you say something that flirty to him sent his mind into chaos. 
“Y/n...” He grabbed both of your hands now, looking into your eyes with that familiar intensity. “Do you.. like me? Not as a customer or a professor, but as a man?” 
He had been wanting to ask you since Saturday night, but couldn’t find the courage. He knew how terrible of an idea it was to be having this conversation with one of his students, but when it came to you all rational thought seemed to fly out the window. He had stayed up all night torturing himself with the thought. He needed to know. 
But you could only stare back wordlessly. Not because you didn’t want to tell him no, but because you couldn’t deny to yourself that you did like him. You just couldn’t get the words out. It was one thing to feel something deep inside your heart. It was another to be able to say it out loud.
Baekhyun quickly noticed your discomfort and withdrew his hands. “You don’t have to answer that, sorry. But you know how I feel about you. I just need to know. Whatever your answer is, whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll accept it. If you want me to leave you be, just tell me and we can act like we never knew each other before last Monday.” 
But you didn’t want that, not at all. Your feelings for him had only grown and you couldn’t see yourself ever going back to only seeing him as your professor. It was too late for that now that you knew what his arms felt like wrapped around you. 
“I know I don’t want that.” You said so quietly, it was almost inaudible. But Baekhyun still heard you.
His eyes widened in surprise, but his smile found its way back into his face as well. “I really hoped you wouldn’t choose that. But whatever you do decide, will be fine by me.” 
“Okay.” You spoke, as you got up out of your chair. “I should go. Thank you for explaining everything.” 
“Don’t forget this” he said, holding the wad of cash. You sighed, and took it from him, shoving it back in your pocket “and thank you for listening.” 
Baekhyun waved you goodbye as you exited his office, shooting you another gorgeous smile that you couldn’t help but return. As you walked back home you felt that same unfamiliar feeling still blooming in your stomach. You tried to ignore it, but it was unmistakable. This is what people were talking about, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you talked to someone you liked. You’d felt it before with past flings and crushes, but never as much as now. 
And the more you let yourself think about it, the clearer it became to you. You were becoming just as fucked for him as he was for you. 
Next Chapter
252 notes · View notes
koreanmadeingreece · 3 years
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Why, why, why (2)
University student!Yuta x reader
Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups
Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.
A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). Also, wow I never thought I’d post this. I hope you guys like it. Also I thought I’d update every Sunday but I couldn’t restrain myself. Welp. 
Warnings: n/a
Part 2/? Previous / Next
Word count: 1.3K (so far I’ve written about 15K words in total. help.)
Taglist: @melitadala you didn’t ask for this but I’m tagging you anyway (also please let me know if you’d like to be tagged)
You went outside in the small balcony that was equipped with a simple table and a few chairs, since the weather was nice that day. You thought it would be best to calmly drink your coffee before starting, and the others agreed. But the minute you all sat down, the doorbell rang and Taeyong had to get up and answer the door.
“Hey, guys, look who’s here!” He returned a few moments later, bringing two of his friends with him. “Y/N, this is Taehyung,” he said and one of his friends gave his hand to you for a handshake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung,” you smiled.
“Taeyong, she’s one of us now. Y/N, was it? You can call me V.” He smiled back.
“Sure, why not?” you laughed, and Taeyong shoved him away, so that he could introduce to you his other friend.
“And that’s Johnny.”
“Nice to meet you, Johnny,” you said.
“Welcome, Y/N, we’re more than happy to help you find your way around the city. Feel free to ask us about anything, alright?”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
“The new girl is here, and you don’t even bother looking at me, huh?” Yuta laughed, talking to the two guys that had just arrived.
“Exactly,” Johnny didn’t even hesitate to say, “Now, Y/N, tell us. Do you have any embarrassing memories of Taeyong?”
“Cutting to the chase, I see. We have all the time in the world for that, Johnny. I’ll be staying here for the next four years, assuming I’ll pass all my classes in the first try.” Everyone laughed at your comment, and Taeyong went back inside to bring V and Johnny their coffees.
“Aw, you got us coffee? How sweet of you…” V pouted.
“It’s to bribe you for volunteering to help us with the house,” Taeyong said. And that was how the rest of the morning went by. You got to know the guys better, which truly was exactly what you needed, considering you had just moved into a new city and started a life from scratch. Taeyong’s friends never hesitated to ask you about how you managed to stand him for so many years, since he was making their life hell with all his drama and personal life chaos.
“Look, it’s quite easy if you think about it. He’s an amazing friend, so I didn’t really have anything to be bothered about besides him occasionally freaking out about his upcoming date or about someone he liked. I can’t complain. I guess I’m used to it…?” You thought about it a little more. “The truth is that you can be a bit overdramatic sometimes though. Do you remember that one time you came over and just started pacing around my house, freaking out about that guy you liked and asking advice from my mom? Pure gold.”
“Ah, come on! We’ve spent so many years together! How can you keep trashing me like this?” He exclaimed.
“I’m not trashing you. It’s the truth! Don’t you guys believe me?”
“We do,” Johnny said, and V shook his head in understanding. “Yuta, don’t you agree?”
“Hm?”
“Did you zone out again?” Johnny asked.
“Ah, sorry. Something was on my mind. What did you ask again?”
“Never mind. Y/N, tell us more!” Johnny pleaded and you continued sharing embarrassing stories of Taeyong, always making him blush, but not anything too personal that he’d mind if the others knew, of course. After a while, you had finished your coffees and started heading inside to clean the house and put everything into place. You stayed behind for a while, until the others were gone, and you were alone with Yuta.
“Everything okay?” you asked.
“Yeah, why are you asking?”
“Nothing, I just saw you zoning out a lot today and I don’t know if that’s your style or if you were thinking about something. Just checking.”
“It’s fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” Was it just a feeling, or was he acting weird? You had no idea, since you had just met him that day, but it was a hunch of yours that you couldn’t shake off. Either way, this guy was someone you hoped you’d get to know better. He seemed far too interesting to pass by. “Should we go inside?” he said, and you followed.
Cleaning with the guys was something worth doing, honestly. How many times you thought they’d burn the house down can’t be counted. At some point, V even plugged his phone into the speakers and played music that made the crew quite energetic, which made you grateful, concerning that all of you were tired as hell.
“So, I’m buying all of you food today,” you said as you saw how late it was.
“No, Y/N, we can’t let you buy food for so many people,” V said.
“It’s okay, guys. You’ve done so much for us and look how many things we’re done with. One more day and it’ll be perfect. It’s the least I can do.”
“Fine. How does pizza sound?” Johnny suggested, and the others agreed. “Just no onions please.”
“Sure. I’ll go get it,” you said and grabbed your wallet, but everyone soon realized you had no way of knowing where you could go, since it was your first day there. “Um, where do I go?”
“Ah, I’ll come with you,” Johnny offered and turned to Yuta.
“Forget it. I’m not giving you my car keys.” Yuta had started sounding a bit harsh, nothing compared to this morning, the very same morning you met him.
“Then you should go with her, if that’s what you prefer,” Johnny suggested. “I just said it in case you didn’t want to leave the house.”
“Ah, just shut up. Y/N, let’s go.”
“Uh, sure, I guess.” And you left with him.
You didn’t really know what to say as you were heading to his car. Should you be thanking him for driving you there, or for helping you with the house? Should you be asking him if he’s okay again? You soon decided that it wouldn’t lead anywhere if he didn’t want to talk, so you just settled with asking him about the university.
“Taeyong must have said it before, but I’m completely out of it right now. What are you studying here?” you decided to ask.
“Film studies and screenwriting. Third year.”
“Really? Same. Do you have anything to say to someone who’s entering right now, as someone who’s been here two years longer?” You hoped that, if you kept talking to him, he’d start opening up a bit.
“Um, not really. Just that you should try and pass the first-year classes with the highest grade possible, since it’s going to get more difficult as time goes by. If you get good grades in the first semesters, you’ll be fine even if you barely pass in some classes.”
“Thanks. Are there any teachers I should be careful of?”
“Probably professor Song. His projects are the weirdest, if you want my honest opinion. He asks for too much. You’ll manage.”
“Thanks for the advice,” you smiled, and he nodded. He seemed as if he didn’t want this conversation to continue, so you sat quietly in the passenger’s seat as he drove, until you reached your destination. You got up and returned fifteen minutes later with three pizzas, ready to go back in silence. But he had a different idea in mind.
“Since when have you known Taeyong?”
“Since I was like, seven? I met him on the first day of school, because he saw me crying and came to help.”
“Oh my god, were you one of those kids who cried on their first day?” he laughed.
“Don’t make fun of me! I really didn’t want to go to school, you know.”
“And he helped you find your way around, right?” he asked.
“Yeah, he did.”
“That sounds like him.” He paused for a second. “Did you like the others? I know they can be a lot sometimes, but I promise they’re good guys.”
“Oh, I’ve liked them a lot. Maybe a bit too much, honestly. And I don’t even know you guys. I just met you today and I hope we’ll manage to get along.”
“I hope so too.”
79 notes · View notes
gukyi · 3 years
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the love project | jjk
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summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.
{college!au, friends to lovers!au}
pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!
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These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 
At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.
Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 
Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 
Your best friend would have to disagree.
“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”
“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”
“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”
He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.
Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 
Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 
But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.
“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”
Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 
He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 
“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 
“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”
“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”
“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”
“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”
“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 
“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”
Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.
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There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 
The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 
So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 
“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 
It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 
“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 
“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.
“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”
“What do you have to do?”
Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”
You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 
“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”
“Oh,” You say dumbly. 
“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”
“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 
Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”
“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”
“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”
“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 
“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”
He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 
Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 
“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”
“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”
He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.
“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”
“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 
“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”
“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.
You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 
Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 
Click.
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“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?
From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 
“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”
“Well, how many do you have now?”
It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.
You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 
“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 
“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 
Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 
It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 
He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 
“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?
“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”
“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.
Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”
You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”
“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”
“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”
 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 
“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”
Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 
The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 
When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.
“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.
“I never want to miss anything.”
“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”
“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”
“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?
“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”
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At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 
You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 
Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 
Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 
This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 
It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 
“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 
“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”
“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 
You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”
“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.
“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”
“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 
“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”
“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.
“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”
Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”
“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”
“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”
“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 
You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 
The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.
“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 
“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 
You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”
You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 
“Y/N!”
You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 
Another voice breaks you from your trance. 
“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 
The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 
“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”
“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 
Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 
“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”
The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”
Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 
“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”
“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”
“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 
What do you not know?
By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.
This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?
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Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.
You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 
Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 
Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.
Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.
So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.
An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 
And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.
The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.
“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.
You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.
The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 
“Whoa.”
“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 
“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”
“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”
“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”
��Yeah.”
It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 
“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”
“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”
“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 
“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”
Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”
“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”
“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”
“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”
You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 
“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”
“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 
Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”
He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 
Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 
And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 
Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 
You wonder what he sees. 
(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)
“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.
You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 
“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”
Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 
“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”
There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.
“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”
Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 
For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 
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The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 
You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 
[November 7th, 8:48PM]
You: you still game for that movie?
[November 7th, 8:50PM]
Jungkook: you finished your date already?
You: is that a yes or a no
Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that
You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over
The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.
Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 
But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 
Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 
“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 
“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 
“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 
You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”
“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 
“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”
Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 
Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 
“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”
“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”
To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 
He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 
“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.
Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 
Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”
The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 
“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 
“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 
Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 
“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 
The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 
“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 
“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”
“I want to see it.”
“What? My project?”
“What else?”
“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”
You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”
“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”
“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”
“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?
“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 
“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 
You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 
“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.
Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”
And that’s good enough for you. 
You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.
You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.
“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”
“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”
“How do you know what feels right?”
Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 
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The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 
So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?
Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 
The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 
Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 
Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 
Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?
Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 
“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”
“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 
Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 
You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 
Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 
As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 
The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 
There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 
What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?
Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 
What?
Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?
Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 
This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 
This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?
Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 
“Y/N?”
You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 
“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 
“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 
“Uh—”
“Were you reading my computer screen?”
It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 
“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 
(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 
If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 
I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)
“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 
“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 
“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”
“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 
“So you are hiding something?”
“That’s not the point, the point is that—”
“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”
“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 
He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 
“Jungkook—?”
“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”
“Know what? What would I know?” 
Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”
The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 
“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 
“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”
You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”
Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”
“And you are mine,” you remind him. 
“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”
“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”
And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 
You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 
But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 
He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 
He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 
By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 
“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”
Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”
“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.
“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”
Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 
You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 
“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”
“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”
“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”
“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”
“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”
“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 
It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 
“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”
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What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?
Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.
Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?
Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 
This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?
Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”
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↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!
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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years
Text
BSD x university au hc’s | pt. 1
hi i am an absolute slut for university au’s in case you couldn’t tell so i just had to write some for my first BSD post. also this is going to be slightly ooc because i am a crackhead
check out pt. 2 here
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Atsushi Nakajima:
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he’s definitely the kind of guy who still had no idea what he’d take up in university even after he was accepted 
either wants to not major in anything at all or just major in everything because he’s also scared that he’ll eventually not like what he’s majoring in
so for his first two years you’d probably find him jumping around different classes 
also he still calls the professors ‘teacher ____’ like a high school student and everyone laughs but thinks its cute
eventually, because of his *cough cough* traumatic childhood he decided he wanted to help children by becoming a guidance counselor
he ends up taking Child Psychology and bOY does he love it so much
well he actually just loves all of his classes because Learning is Fun
although because of his *cough cough* traumatic childhood he’s the one in class that people are all like 👀👀
atsushi: *talking about children’s responses to fear and emotional abuse by talking about his own emotional abuse*
the professor, under their breath: wait, do you need help?? 
i can definitely see atsushi as a Roommate of the Year kind of guy. he’s just so polite and tidy with his room. also he’d definitely be the type to take care of plants inside the dorm room and put them on the windowsill
in terms of extracurricular activities, he’s definitely a sporty type of person so i can see him joining a varsity (something like Frisbee because he likes things that go whoooosh) but he’d probably join a student org that does stuff like community outreach
because of all this, he is a Very Busy Boy but his friends do manage to drag him out to parties once in a while
although atsushi would probably sit in a corner and drink only one beer for the entire night 
he’s notorious for helping drunk people though. most of the time he’ll be putting blankets on people and making them drink water
if he knew how to drive he’d definitely be the designated driver
Akiko Yosano:
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omg i’m so excited for this i love yosano so much 
she’s the friend who’s just effortlessly awesome all around and a fricking MED STUDENT to top it all off
she gets a bit too excited when it’s dissection time but it’s alright she has good intentions 
probably the only one in your class who doesn’t go and throw up whenever a cadaver is being used (actually do they still use cadavers i have absolutely no idea)
she also interns at the local hospital as part of her degree program but OMG yosano will not stop telling disgusting stories about the patients she’s had
everyone: *eating lunch peacefully in the dining hall*
yosano: so i pulled a guy’s toe out of a meat grinder this morning
everyone: sHUT UP
for some reason she still has a social life despite being a med student and it’s one of the mysteries of life i guess
yosano LOVES going out clubbing on friday nights. if you have the fortune of being her roommate, be prepared for make-overs and being dragged with her out to the city
she’s such a social butterfly like at every bar you go to, the bartender knows her name and her regular order. she’d probably end the night befriending a couple more people
also she’s amazing at karaoke i kid you not
as for extracurricular life, i don’t think yosano’s the type to join an org that’s related to her major cause like ‘what’s the point?’
instead, she’d probably go wherever her friends are because to her, she’ll enjoy any activity as long as she’s with people she loves
but when it comes to her own interests, i can definitely see yosano as someone who loves the outdoors, especially hiking after having to be cooped up inside clinics
it just makes her love and appreciate the value of life more
Kunikida Doppo:
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ok, i KNOW he was a math teacher before he joined the ADA bUT i can’t help but think of him as a political science major ??
i can definitely imagine kunikida as someone who’d want to become a lawyer someday and would take political science as a pre-law
he does like the idea of following in the footsteps of great men but omg kunikida would absolutely hate the exclusivity of white, male political theorists
he is such a good student except for when his professor has some sketchy values then kunikida will !! fight him !! every !! chance !! he gets !!
raises his hand constantly to contradict his professor if they even tRY to defend thomas hobbes and authoritarianism
but other than that he’s probably the most diligent student out there. kunikida genuinely enjoys doing the readings for class and writing essays
also has such a balanced schedule that he can make time for anything and everything
except for when his friends dazai drag him out to parties and get a social life
despite how rigid he is, kunikida has absolutely no problem helping out others with learning. he often holds study sessions in his dorm room or in the library before exams
he also likes to volunteer in tutorial centers because he’s just like that
OH OH some of his ‘students’ suggested that he make crash-course type videos for political science and it took some convincing but eventually kunikida decided to go for it
he’s not the most tech savvy or photogenic person so it took some time for him to get used to things but after seeing all the comments from people who benefited from it, he decided to continue with his crash course videos
whether or not he’s the best or worst roommate is completely up to you. if you like someone who’ll basically micromanage your life from your daily schedule to your study habits, you’ll absolutely love him
he doesn’t like to go out for parties that much but he will if his friends convince him enough (kunikida’s an utter lightweight when it comes to drinking though)
Osamu Dazai: 
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i genuinely have a hard time thinking about what this guy’s major would be and tbh even his friends have been wondering what dazai’s major was for TWO YEARS
that’s because he keeps taking the most random ass classes like Basic Pottery or Intro to Molecular Biology in the same semester
idk how he even plans to graduate at this point
although to be honest, i can definitely see him as a philosophy major despite the fact that i LOATHE every male classmate i’ve had who’s a philosophy major (idk they’re always so condescending)
i feel like dazai’s just taking that because it’s somewhat challenging for him but to him, university life is just more of crazy experiences rather than learning
and oh my god has he gotten up to the weirdest shit
the number of times he had to climb gates or sleep on benches at three a.m. is too many to count
dazai also loves volunteering for random things like people’s thesis projects (once, he offered to be a snake venom tester to a bio student and they told him that was illegal) or even being the school’s mascot in games
also he and kunikida probably met each other in freshman year at an intro to philosophy class and oh my god did dazai get on his nerves
what’s worse was that they had to work on a group project together and dazai was MIA most of the time and it drove kunikida crazy
that is until dazai showed up last minute to pull an all-nighter with him for their paper and kunikida just couldn’t help but be impressed by dazai’s ~~intellect~~
they don’t exactly get along but they do have some mutual respect for each other enough to work on projects well
omg if dazai ends up being your roommate I WISH YOU LUCK 
the first time you walked into your room dazai was microwaving a metal bowl and you had to run to stop it in time
also he has a tendency to wear his headphones and sing his favorite double suicide song out loud 
kunikida please come pick him up
Edogawa Ranpo:
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i love this one man so much i swear to god 
ranpo is definitely the kind of person who just didn’t like school so when college applications came around he was just like ‘why bother though ???’
his friends did convince him by saying that he wouldn’t have to do subjects he wouldn’t like and just focus on his major (this is a lie btw)
is it a surprise that ranpo would choose forensic science ?? NO
he thinks its cool that he can learn about something he’s already super good at and it just gets him really pumped up to show off how good he is
LOVES getting praised by his classmates and professors
ranpo probably thinks lectures are boring as hell so sometimes he just,,, doesn’t,,, come,,, to class
if attendance IS required you can bet he’s bringing snacks and game consoles with him and sitting WAAAAY in the back of the room
Mukbang at a Lecture Hall with Edogawa Ranpo
his classmates think its cute that he puts on glasses before doing exams or answering his prof’s questions as a way to hype himself up
everyone calls him ‘The Greatest Detective’ and ranpo LOVES IT
despite that, he’s not too overly social he just likes being with his close group of friends UwU
he’s also someone you can drag around to places like the fair or an aquarium, but he’s not into clubbing or drinking for that matter
he DOES enjoy seeing his friends get drunk and mess with them though
ranpo isn’t into joining student organizations BUT he gets scouted a lot by detective agencies and he likes interning for them
i’m saying detective agencies because police are gross
ranpo did end up joining a baking club with the assumption that he would just be EATING the cake and not BAKING the cake
yeah he was just there for less than half a semester
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taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @tpwkatsumu @laure-chan​
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cudan2 · 3 years
Text
We’re Only Human
Spring Break Shadowing Part 4
Carlisle Cullen x Reader
Word Count: 2,040
Summary: It’s the last day of shadowing with Dr. Cullen, but you’ve come to realize a little more about how you feel towards him. Cue crushes and a little bit of chaos along the way.
A/N: I finished the semester and can actually dedicate time to writing this again because instead of being on spring break, I’m now on winter break. I also chopped this part in half because it was probably going to be over 6,000 words otherwise and that’s just a lot compared to the previous ones. Bear with me, guys. Another note - I’m thinking about posting this on Ao3 but will rewrite it because I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this in present tense lol. 
Anyways, this is #8 on my headcanon list.
Masterlist
XXX
You don’t know how it happened, but time is on your side and you’re running early this morning. The sun has just risen and casts a warm glow across the hospital as you make you way to the Starbucks, determined to be the one to buy Doctor Cullen his drink for once.
Meeting him here every morning has become a tradition, a tradition that involves him getting you breakfast every day you’ve shadowed him this week. The two of you would chat about various topics while walking to where ever he had to be next. Sometimes you would prod his brain with more medical-related questions, occasionally he would tell stories from his past, but regardless, his every word had you captivated.
Alright, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to finally admit that you may or may not have developed a tiny crush on Doctor Cullen. To be fair though, this is your last day shadowing him and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again anyways. You feel a pang of disappointment at the thought, but it soon disappears when Emily greets you at the counter.  
“Hi, Y/N! Where’s the doctor today?”
“I was running early today, so I figured I’d grab both of our drinks.” You place your order and ask the barista what Doctor Cullen’s “usual” was.
“Oh that?” she laughs. “He gets boiling water. It’s a little weird, but I just assumed he makes tea with it.”
Boiling... water? You think back to the last several days and try to remember what Doctor Cullen even did with his drink. He definitely never made tea with it. In fact, you don’t think he’s ever taken a sip out of the cup before throwing it away.
“Then I’ll be adding a grande boiled water to my order,” you tell Emily and thank her before she moves on to the next person in line.
You wait to the side for your food and see Jaime standing there too. He’s wearing a backpack and a faded college sweatshirt thrown over his scrubs, and you’re reminded of how many years left of school you have before you can even call yourself a doctor. You wave to him, and he pulls an earbud out from his ear with a sleepy smile.
“Hey, what’s up?” he greets you.
“Nothing much, just grabbing something to eat before the day starts. I’m surprised to see you here though. What happened to morning rounds?”
Jaime lets out what you can only discern as a mix between a hollowed laugh and a groan and tells you about forgetting his coffee at home. “Don’t even get me started on this morning. My car died on me, so I had to get an Uber. Lo and behold, there weren’t any Ubers around either, so ya boy eventually took not just a taxi, but a taxi and the train. By the time I got here, I realized my coffee was still on the counter at home, and so now I’m here.”
Damn, and you thought mornings were rough for you.
“Sorry to hear that! Did you get in trouble for being late?”
“I called Doctor Cullen myself and told him what was happening. He was so understanding, god bless, so I’m in the clear for now.
At the mention of the doctor, your thoughts instantly go back to blond tresses and a brilliant smile you already know you’ll miss when you leave the hospital for the last time today.
“Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?” you say a little too dreamily. Jaime gives you a knowing look and you rein it back in, hoping you haven’t exposed yourself already.
“You know, I think he’s going to miss you the most when you leave.” You don’t even get the chance to react when Jaime continues on, “Don’t get me wrong, Lily and I will definitely miss having you around, but the man really took a liking to you a lot faster than he did with us.”
“What do you mean?”
“He always kept us at an arm’s length before you came around. All of that personal stuff you get out of him would have taken him weeks to tell us before, and that’s if we’re lucky. He just seems more comfortable around you,” Jaime shrugs. His coffee is then called out, cutting off anything he wanted to say next. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you later!”
You take a moment to mull over what Jaime said. From your perspective, Doctor Cullen has treated you exactly the same way he does with everyone else. You don’t dare to over think what Jaime could be saying – over thinking never leads to anything good. And yet, the damage is done. The seed has been planted and now you can’t help but wonder about what made you stand out to the doctor.
Your own order is called, and you’re pulled from your thoughts with the smell of warm food.
Now armed with two beverages and a pastry bag sandwiched between your fingers, you make your way to a nearby table to wait for Doctor Cullen. Your wait is soon cut short though, as you see him walking towards you out of your peripheral vision. The clouds shift and the sun shines through the windows again. Its golden rays pass over the doctor, and for a second, you swear you could see him shimmering in the sunlight.
You squint strangely and blink a few times. Get it together, you tell yourself. Over thinking is clearly playing some weird psychological tricks on your eyes, and you still needed to be on your A-game.
“Hey you,” he flashes that familiar smile once more when reaching the table you are settled at. “You’re early today.”
“I am. It even gave me the chance to get you your water.” You hand him the cup with a smirk, having made sure to put a sleeve on it earlier because unlike Doctor Cullen, you actually have hands that hold the risk of being burnt.
“Ah, I see Emily has divulged one of my secrets with you. Thank you, Y/N, you really didn’t have to.”
“It’s nothing,” you insist. Seriously, water is free at Starbucks. “Think of it as a small thank you present. It’s the least I could do for the amazing surgeon that let me follow him around for the week.”
“Hmm, I think you may have meant the amazing, extremely kind, highly skilled, and not to mention, quite dashing–”
“Okay! No need to flatter yourself,” you laugh, trying your best to refrain from rolling your eyes. In all honesty, you can’t describe him any better. Add in attractive, intelligent, compassionate, way too humble sometimes, and it would be the perfect recipe to recreate another Doctor Cullen.
From there on, your daily routine at the hospital continues without a hitch. It’s a morning filled with back to back surgeries and question after question thrown at you from the doctor. There is no doubt that he is keeping you on your toes – literally and figuratively. You have to admit though, you are pretty proud of yourself for being able to answer the majority of his questions.
Your feet swing aimlessly while you spin around in a padded chair in Doctor Cullen’s office. Your laptop is open on his desk, displaying a blank document that’s meant to be your personal statement. It has been a little over an hour since he left you here to attend a mandatory meeting and you are starting to get antsy.
Aside from several stacks of files and other various papers, the desk lacks the small trinkets you would expect to see. As a matter of fact, the office itself is surprisingly void of anything personal. There aren’t any pictures of family, friends, pets, not even of a possible wife. There are no decorations on the wall either, and if it weren’t for the leather briefcase leaning against the side of the desk, you’d never believe this office belonged to him. No wonder he spends as much time as possible outside of this dismal room.
As you continue spinning in the chair, you bring up a paper fortune teller made earlier from a sticky note. You choose a color, two subsequent numbers, and flip open the flap to reveal the fortune.
Brunch date with Dr. Cullen.
The things you do to kill time. Your friends would never let you live this down if they could see you now.
Just as you’re about to go another round with the fortune teller, the door opens and Doctor Cullen walks in. The fortune teller goes flying out of your hands and onto the floor next to you as you jump in surprise and halt the spinning.
“Sorry about the wait, Y/N. I’m afraid the meeting took longer than expected,” he says, his words laced with a hint of bitterness. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice you nearly jumping out of your skin. Not wanting to draw attention to the fortune teller on the floor, you leave it there for now and start packing up your stuff.
“I presume you found a way to entertain yourself?”
“Kind of? I tried starting my personal statement again. It’s really not coming together,” you laugh dryly. Too preoccupied with turning off your laptop and putting it away, you don’t notice that Doctor Cullen walking around to the head of the desk where you are until it’s too late.
Oh crap, the fortune teller. Of course, he just has to notice it too and picks it up with a curious expression. You look up, and he’s standing there with it in his hand.
“Did you make this?”
You leap up from the chair and snatch it out of his hand before he can examine it any closer. There is no way in hell you’re letting him open it.
“Uh, yeah... It’s just something we used to make in elementary school – nothing special!” You try to play it off as cool as possible and slip the fortune teller into the small trash can underneath his desk. “So what’s next on the schedule?”
He takes a moment before answering you. You see his eyes study the way your fingers nervously fidgets with a loose thread on your shirt. He seemingly brushes off the interaction that occurred and responds, “Pre-op. I believe this one will be much different than the others you’ve observed this week.”
“What’s different about it?” you ask. Doctor Cullen starts to leave and holds the door open for you.
“You’ll see.” You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking.
He shuts the door and you start walking towards to the surgical department when a hand abruptly pulls you back just a little too hard. You trip over your own feet in the process and in some miraculous, but also really unlucky, sadistic, cruel-of-the-universe sort of way, land in Doctor Cullen’s arms. Goosebumps form up your arms where he’s holding you, and you can’t tell whether it’s from the temperature difference or the fact that your face is only an inch away from his chest.
You are absolutely mortified to say the least. Heat begins crawling up your cheeks and if there was a witness, they would have seen you quite literally jump out of the doctor’s arms.  
“I’m so sorry, Doctor Cullen! I didn’t mean to trip and fall and–”
“No, no, please, Y/N. It was of no fault of yours. I admit, I wholly underestimated the extent of my strength in that moment.” You stare at him, still dismayed at what happened, but it seems you aren’t the only one feeling like a deer in the headlights. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?” he asks, smiling meekly.
“It’s fine, these things happen. We’re only human after all, right?”
“...Right.” There’s a moment of silence that goes on for longer than you prefer, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the punchline of some inside joke. You don’t dwell on it though. There’s really only so much social embarrassment you can handle in one day. “Now, if there aren’t any more near-accidents,” he points in the opposite direction and says, “we’re headed to the children’s hospital.”
Oh.
121 notes · View notes
flying-nightwing · 4 years
Text
Damn Him
Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!
More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader
Word count: 4798
Warnings: None
Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought
You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.
Call me when you can - B.
Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.
"(Y/N), how are you?"
"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"
"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"
"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.
"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"
You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.
"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"
"As soon as you can"
"Aight, see ya"
You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.
You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.
You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.
"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"
"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"
"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"
"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"
You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.
"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.
"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"
You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"
"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"
"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"
"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"
"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.
"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"
He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"
"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.
Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.
"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"
"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"
"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"
"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"
Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"
"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"
"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"
Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"
"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.
"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"
This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.
"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"
"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.
You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.
"Yes?"
"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"
You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"
"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"
"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"
------
You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.
"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"
You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"
"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.
"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"
Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"
"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"
"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"
You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.
"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"
"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"
You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.
"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"
Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"
"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"
"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.
"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"
For once? Was he serious?
You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"
"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"
"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.
"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.
He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.
"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.
"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.
"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"
"Crystal clear" 
"Good. Let's go"
While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.
"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.
"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"
You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now. 
"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"
"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"
"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"
You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"
"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"
"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"
"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"
"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"
"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"
"I was just reminding you"
"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"
"Come on, that's not–"
He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.
"Trouble in paradise?"
You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.
"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"
You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.
"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"
"Aleka" You shook her hand.
"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”
You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"
"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"
Oh shit.
"It's B" You replied instantly.
"Bee?"
"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"
"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"
She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"
"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.
"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"
You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"
"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"
"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"
"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”
You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"
"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"
You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.
"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.
"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"
You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.
"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.
"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"
"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"
"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"
You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"
He pouted.
"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"
"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"
You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"
The bright grin returned.
"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.
"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.
"See, I told you"
This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.
"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.
"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"
They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.
"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.
"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"
Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.
"That would be absolutely lovely"
272 notes · View notes
floatinginwords · 3 years
Text
Saved by the Devil (12/?) - Tommy Shelby
Summary: One week before Epsom you or tommy can get your minds off one another
Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (romantic)
A/N: sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. this semester is just killing me. i really hate online school dude. oh and fair warning i did not proof read this so there might be mistakes please be forgiving towards them. Hope you enjoy and have a fantastic night.
One week before Epsom. A lot was going through your head as time seem to go faster and faster. Tommy hadn’t called you or seen you since you were last in Birmingham.
‘Probably busy with May’ you thought to yourself. You rolled your eyes as you recount her giggles and flirtatious behavior.
 “What was that?” Trinity asks. You almost forgot she was in the same room as you. You almost forgot you were in her house. Giving her the last of what you needed for when you were ready to runaway from the country.
 “Sorry, just thinking.” You say, going back to sipping your tea.
 “Okay, is there anything else I need to worry about or hide for you.”
 “Well hopefully I wont need to have so many fake ids, and I can get a legitimate one.” You say sighing.
 “Hows that going?”
 “Its going.” You say, though you weren’t really sure if helping Thomas Shelby ensured you for what you wanted. Its why you had a backup plan. You always did.
 “When are you leaving, (Y/n)?” Trinty asks.
 “next Friday hopefully.”
 Trinitys eyes almost pop out of their socket. “That soon?!”
 You nod. Right after Epsom you were gone. You needed to make quick moves and this one seemed the quickest and smartest. You were starting to recognize faces on trains and buses. Men were following you. You didn’t know who these men were and why they casually followed you places but it helped you make an important decision that it was time to leave. And soon.
 “What are you gonna do about Thomas Shelby?”
 “What about him?”
 She wiggles her eyebrows at you.
 “No.” You say.
 “oh cmon, you want him a little bit at least.”
 “Not even.” You lie.
“Oh cmon he calls you and you rush to him like a puppy and vice versa. Ada told me that when she called him when you were missing he dropped everything to help you, even rushed over himself.” She says
 “Trinity please drop it. Hes just someone good to have around.”
 “Yea he is.” She says suggestively.
 “No.” You say but the two of you end up giggling at Trinity’s antics as you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.
  Thomas Shelby stares across at the empty seat that not too long ago held a sitting Grace. It felt like years since he had seen her. And he thought that the same emotions from before, from every other time he saw her would brew back up and he’d be in love with her again. But as she talked about America and her new husband all he could see was the woman who betrayed him and his family. She left, nothing happened between them, though it easily could have. He sits and thinks about the woman in his life. He thinks about Greta how he held her hand as he died, Grace the way she had made him smile for the first time in years and then broke hi heart as if it was the first time ever, May who was charming but he knew he would never talk to her after (seeing as he was only using her). And there was you. No amount of words can describe you accurately. They wouldn’t do you justice. Tommy smiles as he recalls the last time he saw you. The flustered look as he said the word ‘date’ as you left the pub. Polly had demanded answers on what he was doing with you. Which he calmly replied, “Business pol, don’t worry about it.” He saw the tension between the two of you when he had walked in. He knew that polly would grow to love and trust you the more she got to know you. You were just that type of person.
Without thinking he picks up the phone, calling adas house. Lucky for him, its you that picks up.
“hello?”
“(Y/n).”
“Mr.Shelby. Are you calling for Ada?”
“No, I was calling for you. How do you feel about Charlie Chaplin?”
*******************************************************************************************
 It was only two hours ago when you had gotten back from Trinitys when the phone rang in you and Adas shared house. You picked up naturally not expecting to hear the sweet deep voice of Thomas Shelby. He had invited you out, which you accepted without thinking.  He had picked you up in a car after telling you to dress nice which you did finding a dress you never worn. It was a lovely shade of green. A pity for it to go waste.
You kept telling yourself its just business as you applied a bit of lipstick to your lips. Its just business you think as you rush down the stairs when you see his car pull up in front. Its just business you think as you open the door and see him standing there looking amazing.
 “You look exquisite.” He says And a thought sneaks up through the cracks of your mind, ‘its not just business.’
When the two of you arrive at the party, the two of you have a grand time as you mingle with famous people and eat little appetizers on plates. You ignore the drinks and the bar not wanting to get drunk.
 “Would you care for a dance?” He asks you. The two of you were sat at a table when a slow song comes on and all the couples rush to the floor.
 “I’m afraid to say that I’m not much of a dancer.” You say embarrassed by your lack of skill.
 “Im sure we can remedy that with some practice.” He smiles, taking your hand and leading you away. And you cant help but follow entranced by the way he guides you and holds you gently. The music is lovely and awfully romantic. You look everywhere else but his eyes. Knowing that you’d just end up lost within them. You watch the couples dancing, wondering which ones were in love or not. You stumble a bit as you attempt to not step on his toes. You do a good job at following his lead although you’re incredibly stiff.
 “Hey, are you okay?” Thomas voice breaks you from your thoughts. You lock eyes a time seems to stop. For a moment you think he’s gonna kiss you.
 He continues speaking, “C’mon lets get out of here.”
 The two of you head back to tommys, the silence comfortable. Though you didn’t have anything to drink, you feel drunk off his presence. You wish  now that you have talked to Trinity or Ada about your conflicting feelings because at this moment as you sit down again on his couch you had no idea how to act.
 “So Epsom…are you ready?” He says
 “As ready as ill ever be.”
 “You’ll be there right?”
 “Of course. I said I would.”
 Another smile falls on to his face as he moves to his vinyl, playing a record that was on it. He holds hi hand out again like at the party.
 “What are you doing?” You ask
 “Asking to dance, do you not want the practice.”
 You smirk and grab his hand. He pulls you in closer than before. His hand resting on your hip and his other hand intertwined with your hand. Again you try to look away from him but then fingers guide your chin to his eyes.
“Keep your eyes on me.” He says.
And you do. And for a moment you feel this gravitational pull. You see him lean forward; you close your eyes. And then…
 RING the phone rings terribly through the apartment,
 “Fuck,” he mutters the edge of his lips barely brushing over yours, he leans back, “stay right here.” He leaves to pick up the phone.
 You take a deep shaky breath as he leave you standing by yourself. You hear him pick up the phone and quietly talk into the receiver end of it. You sit down on the couch replaying what just happened in your head. Your heart beats fast against your skin and you know no doubt that your flustered as can be. You sit to catch your breath and hopefully steady your beating heart.
 Two small knocks on the door. You think to get Tommy but he sounds aggravated you decide to not bother him. You open the door yourself revealing a beautiful blond woman. You blink confused of what she could want, she looks at you equally confused.
 “Hi is tommy here,” her Irish accent is clear as day, “You know what never mind that I just need to get something real quick.”
She pushes pass you and goes immediately to the couch digging her hand through the cushions. She pulls out a ring and sighs in relief.
 “Imagine going home without this.” She says to you.
 “Im sorry I-“  You  finally find the words to speak but she interrupts you.
 “Its okay he probably didn’t tell you. Im grace. I was here a couple hours ago. he’s always been one to move on fast.” She says with a tone of disapproval as she looks up and down at you.
 “Did you meet Chaplin? Hes one of my favorite actors.” Grace continues.
 You feel scrutinized under her gaze. She walks past you with a smile. She knows her words cut you deep even if you don’t show it.
 “Tell Tommy I said bye. Enjoy your time.” And then she’s gone.
 You stand in the same spot by the door. You finally met grace. The one he was with a year ago. The one he named his horse after, the one he kept unopened letters, the one he didn’t like talking about. She was here and she was beautiful. Were you just a second choice for him? And easy get since he couldn’t have what he wanted?
 “(y/n) why are you standing by the door?” you hear tommys voice from behind you.
 “I think I should go home,” Before he can ask why, you answer that question, “Grace came by.”
 “(y/n)..”
 “No this is good before we do something stupid, right?” You say trying to laugh it off, though on the inside your hurting.
 “Lets talk about this..”
 “Mr. Shelby we’re both drunk and not thinking clearly”
 “You haven’t been drinking all night and I’m as sober as I’ve ever been.”
 You shake your head, “Why did you bring me out tonight? Was it cause she said no?”
 “I-I” For the first time Thomas Shelby was at a loss for words.
 You sigh, “Ill see you at Epsom, Mr.Shelby”
 And then you left.
Read pt.13
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@babylooneytoonz @captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034  @ms-dont-care  @owenniasstars @shikin83 @lauren-raines-x 
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jjpmoans · 4 years
Text
t’aimer sans cesse
↦ song: Hesitate from Eyes On You 
↦ lyrics: 'Yes, you, why are you making me this confused?/ I don't get you any more' 
↦ word count : 9k+
↦ genre : roommates to lovers
↦ warnings : fluffs, angst if you squint really hard
↦ summary : Park Jinyoung. You. Jeong Jaehyun. As complicated as it seems, you’d be honest when you said, you didn’t expect to be involved in this whole love triangle. Have you been missing signals or have he been sending you absolutely invisible signals? Is your radar broken? How have you not know? How have you been so dense? How long have you been foolishly hurting him?
↦ a/n : Hey everyone! I’m back with a new fic! I’m soo sorry it’s been a drought here on my blog. But i’m back and looks like Mr Jeong is joining us this time~ Anyways, this fic is written for the GOT7 Alive Fest on twitter and if anyone is interested, go check it out on @/GOT7_Alive_2020. They have both artists and writers joining the fest! Most of them post on ao3 and I am probably the only one who post on tumblr. Nevermind that, I hope you love the fic! Thank you for reading!
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Morning classes are by far, the most hated part of your schedule. You don’t like waking up early, which explains why you’re not a morning person. You don’t remember when was the last time you met the morning birds and the sunrise since you usually wake up after ten in the morning and the sun is already up. You missed the chirping and the first ray of the morning but you’d trade anything for sleep at the moment. 
“Jinyoung.” you groan when you feel a finger poking your cheek and pinching it. You know it’s him, who else is patient to wake you up? Bambam and Yugyeom have long given up trying to wake you since you refused all their advances, even coaxing you with food. “I don’t want to wake up.”
You heard a few rustling and you exhaled in relief. Perhaps Jinyoung will let you off the hook and let you sleep this once. You don’t have that many morning classes, to be honest. You only have one, and that’s on every Tuesday. Usually you wake up and sign the attendance then go back to sleep since you had online learning for this semester, but since the situation has toned down and the university has reopened, today marks the first day of on-site class. 
“Hey, sleepyhead.” you hear his voice and a few seconds later, you feel your face getting wet and his palm softly applying cold water all over your face. Another dip into the basin and he returns his palm to your face with another round of wiping the cold water all over your face which he carefully presses it on your eyelids. “Wake up. You have class at nine.”
You grumble, turning away from him to continue sleeping but at this moment, you’re almost wide awake after he technically washes your face for you. You can hear Jinyoung chuckling and you’re positive now that he has successfully woken you up. “Urgh. I hate how you wake me up easily.”
“Not my fault that I’m an expert.” he laughs upon seeing you getting out of his bed and into the bathroom. “Hurry up. I’m taking you to breakfast.”
“For what?” you appear again with your toothbrush inside your mouth. 
“To eat, you dummy. Your class ends at eleven and you’d be starving by then.” he picks a book out of your shared bookshelf, flipping it to the page he left before. “Hurry up! I’m giving you ten minutes!”
You stare in disbelief at him and when he sees you’re unmoved, he throws you one of your small pillows to get you moving. “Tik tok, y/n! Move fast!”
“I can’t believe you shove me into the bathroom.” you frown when Jinyoung just laugh at your complaint. He indeed shoved you into the shower after you’ve been standing for too long while brushing your teeth. “We aren’t even late!”
“You’ll thank me later.” Jinyoung grins, walking into the busy cafe. People are getting their first coffee supply of the day and so do you. Jinyoung and you are both coffee people, it just made sense to start the day with a cup of iced Americano.
As usual, Jinyoung will queue up so you can find a seat for both of you while waiting. It’s easy to catch a spot in the cafe during the morning since most people pack to-go breakfast. So you carefully choose a table for two, a bit far from the counter and hidden from the excessive sun exposure but still be able to see people entering the cafe. 
It’s just an unconscious habit of yours, to watch whoever that passes through the door. It’s just amusing to you how most people fall into the same time schedule, about fifty people probably have the same class to attend and twenty seven of them need coffee before class. 
“Here.” a tray of drinks and food appears before you, you make space for Jinyoung to place the drinks out of the tray and put the tray away. It’s so obvious which one of the food is yours and which one is Jinyoung’s. He prefers to have croissants for breakfast while you prefer egg sandwiches since you’ll be fuller and can last until lunch time. “Saw anyone you know?”
You shake your head before taking a big bite of your sandwich, munching them happily. The man before you just laugh at your behaviour, fifteen minutes ago you were wrestling with him to get into the shower and now you’re just behaving like a child, eating her breakfast with joy.
He sees the corner of your lips smudged with the mayo and his heart skips a beat, wondering how can you be so adorable being so messy. He can’t stand someone munching loudly but here he is, watching the corner of your lips moving and the sauce is still there. So he extends his hand, wiping your lips and retracts to lick his thumb back, before going back to eat his own croissant.
You didn’t mind, it’s not actually out of the ordinary. Jinyoung smiles, knowing how comfortable you are with him. Sometimes he wishes you don’t, because right now he just wanted to let you know how badly he’s in love with you. 
But of course he can’t. As best friends, he can’t. His feelings aren’t worth the awkward encounters or the cold treatment you’ll be giving him once you learn that he’s in love with you. 
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“Alright so for the assignment partners,” your professor announces, indicating the class is ending in ten minutes. During the quarantine, he has decided that all assignments will be graded individually since the quarantine was expected to run longer. However with the on-site classes coming to life again, he wanted to make the last assignment graded in partners, so that he can actually provide better materials for the lecturers audit session. 
You heard your name being called and you swear your breath hitches when another name follows yours, loud and clear. “Jeong Jaehyun.”
“Oh my god.” your friend next to you gasps, utterly speechless at revelation of your partner. You as well, are shocked and completely blank out. “Oh my god. You got the golden boy.”
“Oh my god.” repeating the phrase over and over again, your friend taps you multiple times and you feel your throat dried. One of the reasons why she’s so excited is because you’ve developed a crush towards the golden boy from the start of the semester and she knows. She, who goes by the name Mina, is your only friend from the same course.  However it was short lived since you only got three classes with him and the quarantine started. Either way, you’ve completely forgotten about your crush until he was brought up again, 
You took Mathematics as an elective just because you thought it was fun and you wanted to try it. Jinyoung couldn’t make it, Psychology students are always packed and you, as the Language student, have too much time to spare.
“Mina. this is insane.” you are having a minor breakdown and Mina isn’t helping, squealing when she sees Jaehyun walking over towards your seat, nudging you not so subtly. “My lord, don’t nudge me like that-”
He stops in front of you and for a second you forget how to breathe, extremely mesmerized by his presence. Here’s why he’s the golden boy.
You knew from a classmate that he comes from the Engineering faculty, taking Mathematics as one of his complementary subjects in order to fulfill his credit hours requirement for this semester. It’s a given that he excels in mathematics as he’s an engineering student but his other achievements make him even more dreamy and absolutely golden. 
Jaehyun is also very popular in sports, he’s one of the baseball club players, the one and only sport club that is making names for your university. It doesn’t need you to attend their matches to know how well he’s been playing. His fame makes up for it. They have been winning almost every match and well, he contributes about two third of the scores. Above all of that, he’s apparently a member of NCT frat, where every single member is magnificently handsome, carved and painted by god himself.
In short, he’s the standard boyfriend you’ll never get.
“Uhm.” okay he has a bit of a flaw — no, not a flaw. Despite how famous he is, he’s apparently an introvert. He gets shy quite easily, more reasons to like him. The tip of his ears will be red if he feels nervous or shy and you don’t know what is cuter than that. “Hey.”
You forgot how to talk just by looking at him. Never would you have thought you’d be able to talk to him, well given the situation and his social status, you have no doubt you’re out of his circle. It’s only when Mina secretly pinches your thigh that you manage to find your voice, clearing your throat to reply to him. “Hi. Sorry, I’ve been so rude. I’m y/n.”
He offers you a smile. Jeong Jaehyun offers you a smile. You can finally die in peace. “I know. I’ve heard a lot of things about you.”
Oh. What is this? How does he know about you? Scratch that, why would he know anything about you?
“Wha- what? Excuse me?”
He chuckles and Mina’s gasp is completely audible to your ears now, you have no idea if Jaehyun catches that. But you know he does, after all his ears won’t lie to him. “I know you. You’re Jinyoung’s girlfriend.”
Even nothing comes out from Mina, you know she’s laughing. Of course, your reputation is affiliated with Jinyoung. There isn’t any person on the campus who doesn’t know about you and Jinyoung. To say you’re Jinyoung’s best friend is absolutely underrated, so they upgraded your status to Jinyoung’s girlfriend. You’re so close to Jinyoung that it made a lot of his fangirls mad. Why? Because just like Jaehyun, Jinyoung is a member of a frat. 
GOT frat specifically.
Things got complicated and you got his fangirls harassing you to the extent of harming you in your own house during your first semester. After much consideration, Jinyoung figured that it is safer for you to stay with him instead. No one will be able to harm you in a frat house, mainly because he is there but also, his members are very protective of you too. 
Hence he got Jaebeom to go to the administration and arranged your residency exchange. You have no idea how Jaebeom managed to convince them since no girls are allowed to reside in an all boys frat. However he powered through and the news spread as fast as they could, making you officially Jinyoung’s girlfriend and off market.
“Lord, not this again.” you mutter quietly but goodness gracious of course he heard it. Jaehyun’s laughter resonates again and this time you decided to just fuck it. “Firstly no, I’m not Jinyoung’s girlfriend. I’m his best friend and I have no idea why people keep saying I’m his girlfriend.”
“Maybe because you act like a couple?” Jaehyun offers his thoughts. Probably it’s true, Jinyoung has a soft spot for you. Maybe because he feels sorry for what you’ve been through, however you don’t mind. You love when Jinyoung is being protective of you. It reminds you of how much he cared for you.
“Yeah. Nevermind that. Do you want to talk about the assignment?” you hate to ruin the moment but you figured he needed to go somewhere and you’re already holding him back. If you want to chit chat, you can do it when you meet for the assignment.
“Oh yes.” he quickly whips out his phone and scans the task given, quickly sliding his phone to your direction. “Okay so I’ve done question no 1 and just need you to look over them in case I did them wrong-”
He- what? He already did the assignment? Screw it, you’re in love with him already.
“So we just need to work on the second question.” he finishes his sentence and looks up to you, flashing his dimples away. Ah right, his deep dimples are exactly the reason why you’ve taken a liking in him. Whenever you have online classes, a strand of his luscious brown hair will naturally parted away from the others, his dimples showing up occasionally when he’s solving questions. Out of every single window on the screen, you’ve been intently watching his window, mesmerized by his good looking face. “I guess we can set the time and place for us to work on this?”
You unconsciously nod, before quickly snapping out of your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m actually fine anywhere. I’ll check my schedules and we can try to set any time for it?”
Jaehyun hums, hesitated before asking, “Will you be comfortable if we do it at my place?”
Another quiet squeal makes you roll your eyes, at this point Mina isn’t trying to be subtle anymore. Jaehyun has been laughing whenever she lets out any kind of noises, which embarrass you even more. “Wait- you mean NCT frat!?”
You can’t believe she just asked that. 
“Wow, y/n. Spare me some of your luck, please.” she tugs on your arms to which you shrug her off easily.
“Shut up.” you tell her before catching Jaehyun’s attention again. “I’m okay with NCT frat. I’ll text you before I come over?”
“Yeah,” he replies distractedly when his phone shows an incoming voice call, seeming important since he freaks out, whipping his head to the door. “Sorry, the boys are having some meeting and I need to go now.”
He hands you his phone, his dial pad showing up. “Put your number in. I’ll text you.”
If someone ever tells you that Jeong Jaehyun will offer his phone to get your number, even for an assignment, you’d definitely assume that they’re insane and tell them to stop giving you false hope. But now you’re filling your phone number in Jeong Jaehyun’s phone and it feels more like a dream than a reality.
Only when he’s out of the lecture hall that you’re able to breathe, accompanied by Mina’s never ending teasing. Lord, why are you being extra kind today?
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Unknown Hey it’s Jaehyun :)
You almost drop your phone before making unrealistic noises, your heart jumping in joy. You don’t wish to disturb Jinyoung who’s studying at his table but this calls for celebration. 
“Oh my god!” you decided to let it loose and quickly dance in the middle of your room out of giddiness. Jeong Jaehyun has officially texted you and he’s waiting for you to reply. “Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh!!”
Jinyoung stares at your dancing figure with an eyebrow raised, his pen in between his teeth. To say that your sudden dance abnormal is an understatement, he’s been watching you do even crazier and dumber things in the middle of the night during examination weeks but that’s out of stress. So he lets you cool down – not really since you’re still grinning while holding your phone. Definitely, something is wrong.
“Wait how do I reply-” you fumble with your keyboard, thinking of a proper sentence. It’s been three minutes since his text and it’s the perfect time to reply back. You have to act like you didn’t wait for him to reply.
Y/n Hi! Yeap, y/n here.
What do you say more? Did the meeting go well?
You contemplate writing another sentence when his reply comes in, startling you in the process.
Unknown Have you checked your schedule? What day are you free?
Y/n I did and I am free on monday and wednesday afternoon, then friday evening. Hbu?
Unknown Oh crap. I’m only free on wednesday evening 
Golden boy curses too? Oohh, hot.
Y/n Uh… I don’t mind doing it on the weekend? If you don’t have practise or anything.
Unknown Unfortunately [Sticker] I have baseball practice in the morning. But
Y/n But what
Unknown Can we make it at night? We can do the assignment in the next two weeks.  I have an upcoming submission and I’m fully booked this weekend. I’m sorry I promise you I’ll provide you snacks.
Y/n What am I? Five years old? [Sticker] I don’t mind. The due date is still far away.
Unknown Oh so you don’t want snacks?
Y/n Shut up. Give me McDonalds.
Unknown Deal. A princess will get what princess wants.
Your heart skips a beat. He calls you princess? From the first text? This sounds like a frat boy attitude. For a moment you laugh at yourself, of course he is. He’s technically a frat boy.
“Okay you’re creeping me out.” Jinyoung finally stands up from his study table and proceeds to sit on his bed. Your study table is next to his bed while his study table is at the foot of his bed. “You’ve been smiling creepily while texting. Who’re you texting with?”
You quickly reply to Jaehyun with a sticker and lock your phone, facing Jinyoung who’s still confused about what’s going on. You can’t handle this alone and you need to tell Jinyoung. If anything, Jinyoung is the first person that shall know.
“You know Jeong Jaehyun?”
He gives you an incredulous look, of course, who doesn’t know Jeong Jaehyun? One must be blind and deaf if they don’t know the golden boy. “Really? You’re asking me this now?”
You dismiss him immediately, moving to sit next to him on his bed. “He texted me.”
“He texted you?”
“Yes!” you almost screamed at him but hold back and throw yourself on his pillow, kicking the air. “We got partnered for an assignment and he texted me!”
Jinyoung is absolutely clueless because he stares at you again, confused. “So? Why are you so happy about it?”
“Oh god Jinyoung! You don’t understand!”
“Then tell me! And for god sake stop kicking already!”
You sit back up and watch Jinyoung carefully, before explaining, “Jinyoung. A handsome boy, from NCT frat texted me. And he’s not just any NCT member, he’s the golden boy. The standard boyfriend-you’ll-never-have. The Jeong Jaehyun.”
“And he texted me. And he calls me princess!” You watch Jinyoung’s face contorted with disgust and you push him away roughly. He would never understand. He’s not having a crush on Jaehyun.
“So what? I can call you princess too. What’s so special?” Jinyoung has now moved higher on the bed and his hands are crossed. This is why you need a girl best friend. When you have a boy best friend they are so dumb and they can’t understand this joy.
“Oh god. Because he’s so dreamy and I got a crush on him!” you lunge towards Jinyoung and shake him, forcing the information to sink inside his brain. “My crush just called me princess, can you believe it!!???”
“You have a crush on Jaehyun?”
“Urgh. You’re so slow.” you get up and reach for the door, yanking it open. “I’m going to Jackson. He’ll be more enthusiastic to listen to my story than you.”
You close the door and leave Jinyoung alone, stoned and unmoved on his bed.
You didn’t realise it but the previous sentence left Jinyoung speechless, sending him into a shock.
You like Jeong Jaehyun? Oh shit. Jinyoung is in a deep deep shit.
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“Hi.” the door opens, revealing Johnny who looks like he’s been expecting you for a while. 
“Oh! Y/n!” he screams, well not screaming but definitely a higher octave than usual conversation tone. “Come in! Jaehyun told us that you’re coming over.”
Like you have agreed, Jaehyun invites you to come over two weeks after You enter the house, a fresh smell greeting you softly. The layout of the frat is just like yours, except that it is bigger, well to accommodate 21 people in one house. There’s only a few minor differences from your house, like how the kitchen and the living room looks extremely bigger.
You spot someone at the kitchen and you nod timidly, showing your respect in someone’s house. Lord, you feel overwhelmed.
“Who’s at the door- oh!” a high pitched tone yell from the fridge and you see Lucas hugging a jar of milk, probably taking it out. “Jaehyun hyung! Your pretty partner is here!”
You blush at the nickname, quickly trail behind Johnny who offers to send you to Jaehyun’s room. You agree, you can’t possibly manage to find his room by yourself. Actually, you take your words back. This house has a different layout than GOT’s frat, definitely you won’t trust yourself around here. One mistake and you’d probably end up in a room with at least three naked men.
“I have no idea why you’d yell, Lucas.” Johnny comments, ascending the stairs. “Jaehyun can’t even hear you.”
“I know. I just want to call her pretty.”
“Oh god.” your face reddens when Lucas continues to tease you that by the time you reach Jaehyun’s room, you’re as bright as a tomato.
“Heyyy you’re here- wow what happened? Why are you so red?” as soon as he opens his door, Jaehyun bends over to see your reddening face, scanning for any suspicious injury. Johnny however, starts laughing and he’s lucky you just met him today or else you’d already jab him with your fist. “Come one, Johnny. Who did this to her?”
“Lucas that kid. He’s teasing her all the way up the stairs.”
“Oh.” Jaehyun laughs as well, beckoning you to enter his room. “Shut that one up for me.”
“Aite, golden boy.”
You manage to tone down your redness after fanning it while watching Jaehyun’s minimally decorated room, all in black and white, three beds lining up next to each other, the study table at one corner and their closet at the other end. It’s a big room and with three people living in it, it still has spaces to work on the floor.
“Sorry if you find it messy.” Jaehyun rubs the back of his head sheepishly when you seated yourself on the floor, in front of the folding table that he has prepared. “I forced Jungwoo and Jeno to clean the room since you’re coming over.”
“So if you find anything suspicious, just ignore them okay?” you chuckle at his choice of words, as if you’d probably find something. The whole room looks clean, or so how it looks. You doubt you can find anything.
“I’m serious. I always find questionable things and you don’t want to know what they are.”
“Oh.” now that is something you didn’t think of. You know how they always hold parties and a lot of people come over, but you definitely didn’t think of that. “Okay now I’m afraid to move.”
Jaehyun lets out a hearty laugh, seating himself next to you comfortably. “Don’t worry. Nothing can harm you here.”
“Knock knock!” instead of knocking, Haechan chooses to enunciate the sound and in a split second he opens the door, posing at the door frame. “The delivery man is here and I’m not rich to pay for it.”
Jaehyun sighs as he pulls out his wallet, throwing it to Haechan. “Swipe it.”
You turn to Jaehyun, halting in your calculation. “Did you really order McDonalds?”
“I promised you.” he says softly, looking back at his own paper. “What my princess wants is what my princess gets.”
You swear the air suddenly gets hotter and Jaehyun turns super flirty since his first text. You kept texting back and forth, the awkward texts have long forgotten, now it’s always him asking you about your day and sending memes he found on the internet. 
“Are we flirting now?”
“Depends on how you define flirt.” he smiles and that damn dimples show up again, impossible making you even more giddy. “I’d say, I’m being me.”
“This is how you are?” you look at him up and down, giving him a disapproving look. “Do you flirt with every girl you meet?”
Jaehyun comes closer to you, looking at you straight in the eye. “I’ll have you know one thing.”
“I never bring any girl into the frat. Not even hookups.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t do hookups.”
“But I’m just an assignment partner.”
“Definitely not for me.”
You later learnt that Jaehyun has ordered every single meal on the menu because he doesn’t know what you like. You almost got tricked when you came downstairs and saw the food untouched when all the boys were practically circling the dining table but no one touched anything. It’s only after you picked your burger, fries and drink together with Jaehyun’s food that Haechan sprinted towards the table and started the food war with others.
“You just have to ask me, you know.” you tell him while he walks you home, smiling sheepishly while getting scolded. “You wasted a lot on the meals.”
“It’s not wasting.” he defends himself. “I let everyone eat the remaining. It’s not wasting.”
“Yeah, that’s one thing.”
The walk home is silent, a comforting silent. His house and yours is just a few houses apart but he still insists on sending you home. It feels so short because just in five minutes, you fall in step in front of your house. Tonight, you experience something new. You experience another set of happiness, surrounded by Jaehyun and his friends.
It’s different from being with Jinyoung and the boys, it just feels like it. With GOT frat, you feel like home while with NCT frat, you feel exhilarated.
“Hey.” you hear Jaehyun calls, making you turn to him. “I want to let you know that I enjoy talking to you.”
Your features soften, of course, you like talking to him too. “Same here, Jaehyun.”
He grins, walking backwards. “Talk to you later!”
“Good night pretty girl!” you shush him when he shouts a bit too loud. He laughs, running to his house while screaming the same sentence, absolutely madness. You love talking to him, perhaps a bit more than he does.
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“Jinyoung.” he calls, trying to shake the said male into reality. However he gives no response, staring into space making Jaebeom sigh in frustration. “Stop making that face. It’s obvious enough that you’re jealous.”
“What face?” Jinyoung glares, putting his Americano cup down and exhales shakily. He knows what kind of face Jaebeom was referring to. His annoyed face. “I am not jealous.”
“Oh really? Geez, I would never know,” Jaebeom rolls his eyes sarcastically. If looks can slice, Jaehyun must have been slaughtered by the Jinyoung’s total concentration water breathing form and poof! He’d be a verified demon slayer. 
“Shut up.” It’s been an hour and you are still there, sitting at the table by the window, talking to Jaehyun. He has been eyeing you since you entered the cafe and was about to call for you but realised that a certain male has followed you after, seating both of you further from people. He’s not mad, no. He’s a tad bit sad. He doesn’t like this unsettling feeling and it hurts even more when he sees Jaehyun’s concentrated eyes gazing on you.
He knows that gaze. That’s just how he looks at you.
Ever since you first told him that Jaehyun texted you, something has changed. You start spending less and less time with him and more time with Jaehyun. You start waking early and rush downstairs, just to go on a morning walk with Jaehyun. At night when it’s supposed to be your time with Jinyoung, you’d spend it talking to Jaehyun, if not texting all night.
You haven’t realised it but Jinyoung is extremely jealous. 
He never had you that enthusiastic with him. You’re always you, nothing special you’d change just for Jinyoung. And the thought of it makes him sad, sad that he’s actually just a friend. 
“I think you should tell her, you know.” Jaebeom starts. Ever since you revealed that you had a crush on Jaehyun, Jinyoung has been constantly broken. It’s like you pressed a switch inside his brain and he malfunctioned himself. It’s rare to see Jinyoung acting out of character but this is what love does to people. It made you go insane. “What’s the point of torturing yourself watching the woman you love talking to another handsome man with heart shooting out of her eyes?”
“So you agree he’s handsome?”
“Jinyoung.” Jaebeom shakes his head exaggeratedly. “It’s Jeong Jaehyun we’re talking about. We all know that NCT house has some magic shit going around because every single member from that frat is drop dead hot and handsome. Now don’t avoid this. Tell her before it’s too late.”
Jinyoung has officially gone blank. He wanted to tell her, he really does. Jinyoung can’t count those nights where he has drawn a perfect plan in his mind, watching you sleep while mouthing unsaid words to you. He really wanted to tell you that he loves you. He had been in love with you for so long, he has forgotten when exactly he harboured his feelings for you. All he knows, one day he woke up and he felt his heart threatened to burst at the sight of you. 
However every single plan has its flaws and Jinyoung’s plan involves throwing your friendship into the mix. If only he’s not afraid to risk your friendship, he would have tried his damn luck. He would have confessed and he wouldn’t give any damn whether you’d be awkward or not. Things will be easier if he has no attachment. Yet, this attachment is the thinnest line he wouldn’t dare to cross.
“I can’t, Beom-ah.” he sounds helpless, the most helpless Jaebeom ever heard and they are childhood friends. He knew Jinyoung since they were eleven and nothing, nothing  ever broke Jinyoung this bad. Jinyoung is never a quitter but this time, Jaebeom sees him quitting. “I can’t risk our friendship, Jaebeom. I can’t. I can handle her fawning over someone else but I can’t afford being apart from her.”
Jinyoung is never helpless but somehow, he’s helpless when it comes to you.
“So you’re going to let her date Jaehyun?” Jaebeom, though his heart wrenches seeing Jinyoung so broken, he’s not going to let Jinyoung give up. “Because I’m telling you, Jinyoung. Jaehyun isn’t playing. We know how someone looks when they’re in love. I’ve seen it on you and believe me or not, I saw it on Jaehyun.”
Jinyoung has never been unconfident. He’s always that one student who is constantly positive that it will turn out well in the end. He believes that even if it’s bad now, it will be better soon. Beat him but now, he sees nothing like that. He can’t bring himself to think that if he confesses to you it will turn out good. That even if something happens, even if you distance yourself from him, you will be okay in the end.
Because it won’t.
“Tell her before it’s too late please.” half pleading, Jaebeom just can’t see his friend being this lost. “Tell her even if it risks your relationship.”
“What if I lose her?” he can’t answer that, of course Jaebeom can’t. It’s not his place to make an escape plan, it certainly is not his place to come up with your answer. But there’s one thing he is sure of.
“Then she certainly doesn’t deserve you.” 
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“I need to talk to you.” Jinyoung starts, watching you focusing on your screen. Like always, you are grinning, probably laughing at some TikTok videos that Jaehyun sent you. 
“One second, Jinyoung.” you quickly type a reply and lock the phone, setting it face down. Another thing that has changed ever since you started talking to Jaehyun. Before, you had nothing to hide but now? Jinyoung doesn’t know you anymore.
You’re now totally focused on him, your eyes staring straight into his eyes but it’s different. It doesn’t feel the same. It feels like you’re someone else. You’re not his girl anymore. 
“Jinyoung?”
“Hm?” it’s bothering him how foreign his name comes out from you. It’s been a month and if he counts, you probably utter his name only twice a day. “Oh yes. The talk.”
You are sitting cross legged on your chair, waiting patiently for Jinyoung to start. You realised it too, that you’ve been spending less time with Jinyoung. You do feel sorry for him and you have an inkling that he wanted to talk to you about it. Jinyoung rarely needs to have a talk with you unless he feels bothered, and now you can see how bothered he is.
Taking a look at him, you suddenly feel your heart wrenches. How long have you stopped giving attention to Jinyoung? He has this frown on his face now, sometime you never see before. His hair is a bit longer and his hair colour is a lighter shade of brown. 
Who dyed his hair for him? After all, it must have not been you, since you’re busy hanging out with Jaehyun. But usually, you dyed his hair for him, saying you’re the only one who knows how to dye hair properly. Now that you look back, this concern is probably bigger than you expected.
You’ve abandoned your best friend and you knew about it but you did nothing.
“Uhm.” Jinyoung clears his throat, snapping you out of your trance. “I don’t think it’s like- like a big concern.”
“And you know I don’t like complaining either.” he stops, gulping nervously as he continues, “I just feel like we’re too far away.”
“I came home and we’re roommates but I can’t feel you here.”
“You’re so near yet so far.”
You know it will hurt. You know Jinyoung’s choice of words are already the softest he would have chosen, yet it stings. It reminds you of how ungrateful you are, leaving him for someone you have a crush on. He is telling you how he is sad, sad that he gets nothing like before. Your attention is now unavailable for him. It hurts him and now he’s projecting them in words.
Now it hurts you.
“I’m sorry if you feel like I’m demanding. But I just don’t know you anymore. I don’t know how you are, or what you ate for lunch. We’re drifting apart and it hurts me.” he continues as you stay silent, feeling the guilt eating you alive. “I know you have someone new…..yet is it so easy to leave me behind?”
Jinyoung is officially breaking apart. He feels like he’s childish, pouring his heart out but this is about him. This is him demanding you to be fair. He can’t stop you from liking Jaehyun, he can’t force you to love him back. He just wanted to remind you that he’s there. He’s there and please do something. 
“Jinyoung.” your voice cracks, slowly the tears fall on your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m so sorry I made you feel this way. I was too blinded by the newfound happiness and I forgot you. I forgot you who have constantly made me happy.”
“I’m so sorry.” you cried harder, reaching Jinyoung and hugging him. “I’m so sorry I made you feel this way.”
You feel his body shakes and you know he’s holding back from crying. You hated yourself for making Jinyoung cry. 
Jinyoung isn’t weak, no he isn’t. He’s been too strong that it breaks his limit. He wanted to let go. He wanted to let go for once and he’ll be fine. If nothing goes right after tonight, he’s done tolerating. 
A few quiet sobs and some awful jokes later, both of you are lying on Jinyoung’s bed, holding each other close. 
“Jinyoung.”
“Hm?”
“Can I sleep with you here tonight?” you ask Jinyoung, rubbing his arm. It’s been too long since you sleep in his bed and now you feel nostalgic. You’re overreacting but really, it feels too long. 
“I thought you’re going to talk to Jaehyun?” he teases, earning himself a slap on his chest. “Ow! What was that for?”
You laugh, settling yourself comfortably in his embrace. “Say Jinyoung.”
“Hm, what?”
“Do you approve Jaehyun?”
He looks down to you, questioning eyes boring into yours. You know it’s too soon, you know perhaps it’s not the best time to bring it up. But you just want to know his answer.
“For what?”
“To be my boyfriend.”
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Jinyoung wakes up feeling empty, his eyes stare blankly at the ceiling. You’re still sleeping in his arm yet he has this unsettling feeling inside him. Recalling your last question before you sleep, he inhales a deep breath.
Will you be happy? Will his approval make you happy?
Jaehyun is a nice guy, Jinyoung knows that. Looks aside, he has full potential to be the best boyfriend for you. Jaehyun is caring and also when he loves, he’ll love you to the fullest. It’s not a problem to approve Jaehyun, he won’t hesitate if that’s the only case.
However it’s not.
Will Jinyoung be happy with his decision? It feels like the burden has increased tremendously, from jealousy to pain in just one night. It seems like the one month is just a trial for Jinyoung, now he needs to be prepared to lose you for good.
With his fingers raking your locks, he watches you sleep soundly. This is probably the last time he watches you sleeping in his embrace. This is probably the last time he’ll see you wake up in his arms.
Lord, can you help me stop the time?
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“Nope.” 
“Jaebeom-”
“Nope. I won’t let you be as stupid as you are.”
Jinyoung lifts his eyebrows, offended by Jaebeom’s statement. He’s just offering a suggestion yet Jaebeom calls him dumb? “Hey! What do you mean as stupid as I am?”
“Jinyoung.” Jaebeom sighs exaggeratedly, holding Jinyoung’s shoulder in place. “When I told you tell her, I mean tell her your feelings your dumb ass. Not just telling her how you feel when she forgot about you!”
“I’m not a dumb ass.”
“Well you look like that to me now.” It’s another evening where you went over to Jaehyun place to finish the assignment and Jaebeom has no other way than to confront Jinyoung about how weird both of you have been.
Yes, both of you have been weird. Specifically, Jinyoung.
The morning you woke up in his embrace, you didn’t notice something was off. Probably because you forgot how it felt waking up with Jinyoung but definitely, Jinyoung was different. As if he had a switch in him, he started avoiding you, keeping your conversation minimal.
You thought it’s just you but one day Jackson asked you why you were both eating separately, one person at the other end of the table, then you realised that Jinyoung had avoided you. Yes, he made it subtle and you never noticed it until someone pointed it out.
Jinyoung still let you sleep with him and still woke you up like any other morning. He just doesn’t talk as much as he did before. And you brush it off, thinking it as another awkward change that you brought upon your friendship.
“You’re not a dumb ass?” Jaebeom asks. “Y/n has been at Jaehyun’s for hours and you’re still here, like a wife waiting for her cheater husband? Oh you’re just unable to think rationally.”
“Shut up. She’s not a cheater.”
Jaebeom had enough of these awkward encounters. It seems like none of you figured this thing out and he needs his lively frat back again. “Then I suggest you do something about y/n. It’s almost eleven and she’s not home yet.”
“Like what?” Jinyoung is now irritated. He doesn’t have any control over what you’re doing and even if he wants to, he can’t. “I’m not her boyfriend.”
“And Jaehyun is not her boyfriend either. So go get her.”
“What?”
“You heard me. As the house leader, I’m ordering you to get her ass from that NCT frat and bring her home.”
“She can come home by herself. Jaehyun will walk her home.”
“Park Jinyoung.” Jaebeom grits his teeth, pulling the said man towards the door and without hesitation, throws him out of the house. “Don’t let me put up ‘No Jaehyun is allowed’ in front of the door. Go fetch her home by 12. I mean it, Park.”
Then Jaebeom slams the door shut, locking it from inside. Though Jinyoung clearly has the key, he knows Jaebeom probably locked the door using the other lock instead. So he stood outside, leaning against the wall.
What is he going to do? Knock on NCT frat and ask for you? No shit he’s not going to look like a desperate man. 
But indeed, Jaebeom is right. Jaehyun is not your boyfriend either and he has a valid reason to be worried and to go get you at his house which is only five minutes away. Yeap, valid.
“I must have gone crazy.” Jinyoung mutters as he exits the compound and starts walking on the sidewalk in a painfully slow pace. “I must’ve looked crazy too.”
Five minutes turns fifteen, courtesy of Jinyoung walking around the neighbourhood and standing like a stool against the lamp post, contemplating whether he’s going to knock on the door or not.
“Well.” he sighs, walking up the NCT house and stands nervously in front of their door. “Aite, fuck this.” he knocks, slow at first but gradually the third knock is loud, followed by fourth and fifth. He did it on purpose, he knows how boys can be. Yugyeom and Bambam can be so focused while watching Netflix that they can’t even hear any other noises.
Jinyoung fiddles with his hoodie sleeves, his heart beating nervously as he waits for someone to get the door.
“Who is- oh, Jinyoung!” Thank god, Taeyong shows up, not Lucas or Jaemin or else Jinyoung would have a hard time being less suspicious. “Why are you here?”
Now that’s another hard question? Does he simply say ‘well my roommate is here and it’s already 11.20 and why the fuck is she still here’? Or does he say ‘i’m jealous so i’m picking up my girl’? Nope. Nope.
“Uh. Is y/n here?” He hopes he doesn’t sound like a desperate man asking for his crush’s whereabouts because he feels like he’s one. “It’s- it’s 11.20 and uh Jaebeom is kinda mad? She’s not yet back.”
Taeyong takes like- 30 seconds to let the information sink in, before frantically shouting for Jaehyun. “Jaehyun! Tell y/n that Jinyoung is here to bring her home!”
An awkward silence follows him, well of course it’s awkward. All pairs of eyes are watching him from all directions, curious of why he’s here to bring her home? You have been patronising this house for like, two months now and suddenly he’s here to remind her of her curfew?
He hears you come down the stairs, shock paints your face as you see him at the door. Firstly, well since Jinyoung avoided you, you don’t know why he suddenly came to take you home. Secondly, since when do you need someone to take you home?
“Jinyoung.” you reach the door, Jaehyun trailing behind you equally as confused. “Why are you here?”
The amount of ‘why are you here’ irks him that by the time you ask him the same question, he feels like his blood is boiling. Why is it so hard to believe that he’s here to take you home? Don’t you realise what time is it already? Why are you still at Jaehyun’s? These voices inside his head are shouting at the same time and he just- can’t stop himself anymore.
“Why? I can’t come here now?” his question, as soft as he wanted to sound, didn’t come out well. It sounds plainly rude, like he’s picking a fight with you. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Not that. I’m just confused.”
“Jaebeom told me to come and get you.”
“But I can go home by myself.” you point at Jaehyun behind you, who stays silent between your conversation. “Jaehyun can walk me home.”
At this point, Jinyoung feels anger bubbling up inside him and if everyone squints really really hard, one can see that his jugular vein almost pops. All this ‘Jaehyun this and Jaehyun that’ is starting to get to him and honestly? He’s tired of listening to it.
“Can we just go home?” as much as he wants to scream at everyone, he doesn’t want to make a mess at someone’s frat. He knows how Jaebeom works hard to maintain a good relationship with other frats and how hard it is to clean after messes. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation here.”
You silently agree, bidding the boys goodbye and step out of the house. Jaehyun’s eyes follow you worriedly, as if he knows that you’d probably end up fighting with Jinyoung.
In your eyes, Jinyoung is irritated by the fact that you asked too many questions but in Jaehyun’s eyes, he recognises those emotions as anger and jealousy. He’s been asking you about your true relationship with Jinyoung, knowing that it’s impossible for one to be that close without any feeling involved. Tonight, he found out why. 
Jinyoung is in love with you.
“Taeyong.” he whispers while watching both of you getting further away from his house. “Fuck, Taeyong.”
“What?”
“I messed up.”
“What??” how come Jaehyun didn’t realise it from the start? Of course, when he first got close to you, he thought that you and Jinyoung are just best friends and given he never really gets to talk to Jinyoung, well he just didn’t think of that.
“Taeyong.” his frantic eyes find Taeyong, who is as clueless as ever. “Jinyoung loves y/n.”
The leader’s vision switches to the couple on the street, looking at them with wide eyes. “Oh fuck.”
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“I don’t understand him!” you throw your hands, ruffling your hair. It’s been four days and Jinyoung avoided you like a plague, refusing to talk to you even if you cornered him every time you got him. “He’s like, really confusing.”
Jaehyun bites the apple, listening to your story intently. You have told him through texts but here you are again, ranting about how Jinyoung is the most useless communicator and it’s impossible to take the words out of him if he decided to give you cold treatment.
“So you said he’s been weird after you asked him if he approves me to be your boyfriend?” he asks again, making sure he had his point right. Just like four days ago, Jaehyun has concluded that Jinyoung indeed, has been in love with you for so long but you’re just dense to realise it. It’s been proven true, you have the audacity to ask Jinyoung about it and not feel guilty at all.
“Yeah.” you sit on the foot of Jaehyun’s bed, settling yourself comfortably. You hang out more at Jaehyun since Jinyoung looks like he’s about to become mute whenever he sees you in the house. You figured you could give him some space. “I’m so confused right now.”
Jaehyun nudges you with his foot, making you look right up to him. Jaehyun has been too comfortable with you, becoming close just after two months. He’s at that stage where he just calls you with his feet now. 
“You wanna know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think that Jinyoung is in love with you.”
“What the-” Shock is not enough to portray your feelings right now. It’s a mixture of shock, disbelief and suspicions. You don’t know if Jaehyun is playing around because right at this moment, his face shows no hint of joking. “Jaehyun! It’s not funny!”
Jaehyun rolls his eyes, annoyed with your ignorance. You’re the most clueless person he ever knows, and he knows Mark Lee! “Girl, listen to me.”
“What did Jinyoung say when you said I texted you?”
“He said, ‘so?’”
“And what did he say when you said you like me?”
“Is this another session to feed your ego?” you don’t trust Jaehyun, he has a lot up in his sleeves and you just knew him for two months. “I fed your ego too much, don’t you think so?”
“Shut up and answer me. What did he say?”
You roll your eyes. “He said nothing. Why are we doing this?”
“What did he reply when you ask about me being your boyfriend?”
“He didn’t reply. God, I don’t know where you are going with this conversation.”
Jaehyun takes another bite of his apple, munching while talking at the same time. “You see, he didn’t reply when you told him you like me. That’s fine, maybe he didn’t care. But when you ask him about me being your boyfriend, why didn’t he answer right away?”
“Well-”
“Because he doesn’t want to! Come on, Jinyoung can’t possibly tell you no right? You’d be too nosy and asked why.”
“Hey!”
“So what I think is, he likes you.” Jaehyun concludes, snapping his fingers in triumph. “Now the real question is, do you like him back?”
You shut up, eyes running away from Jaehyun’s. You don’t know, well you have no idea. You never thought about liking Jinyoung because you don’t want to risk your friendship. It might have crossed your mind a few times but you ignored the curiosity, you figured it’s the best to stay being friends.
Not that you don’t want to invest your feelings in Jinyoung, you’re just too afraid that it will backfire you. You don’t like rejection and you certainly don’t want to become awkward afterward.
“I don’t know.” you answer truthfully because really, you don’t know.
“Then find it out.”
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You close the door to your room, putting down your bag on the floor and sit down on your bed. Jinyoung is at his study table, unmoved.
“How long are you going to give me cold shoulders, Jinyoung?” you ask, your feet kicking the air. You know he’s listening, even if he has his earphones in. That’s just Jinyoung style, to wear earphones so that no one bothers him, especially Jackson. Whenever Jackson comes over, he’d retreat when he sees Jinyoung stuffing them in his ears. “I know you can hear me, Jinyoung.”
“Let’s not fight anymore.” you look down, suddenly you feel sad. You feel like you’re losing Jinyoung. Is this what Jinyoung feels before? So near yet so far?
“It’s been hard without you, Jinyoung.” 
“The mornings are extremely cold without your laugh and the lunch is plain without you cracking up lame jokes. Dinner is boring because you avoided me and night…the nights are even colder without your hugs.”
“I know you’d say, ‘so what? You have Jaehyun so go and ask him to eat with you, crack up lame jokes and give you hugs.’ but I don’t want Jaehyun. I want you.”
Jinyoung has stopped writing, listening to you intently. You noticed this, which is why you continue, “Jaehyun told me that he thinks you like me.”
You didn’t realise it but Jinyoung stiffens at the mention of his crush on you, catching him off guard. He knows that someone will eventually tell you about this but he definitely didn’t think of Jaehyun of all people.
“I don’t know if it’s true. Jaehyun isn’t exactly the best fortune teller so I definitely can’t gamble with his words.”
“I just want you to know that you’re extremely important in my life. I never thought of putting you second just because I found someone new. In fact, I decided that I’ll stay as friends with Jaehyun, I don’t find him that attractive anymore.”
You stand up and walk over to his side, sitting on his bed just beside him, forcing him to face you. “So if that’s the case, can you please stop being jealous now? I don’t have anything to do with Jaehyun. We are not dating and can I please have my Jinyoung back?”
Jinyoung is frowning, his eyes scan you from the top to the bottom. “You don’t find him attractive anymore? Really?”
“Well-” you grin, crinkling your nose up playfully. “He’s still handsome. I can’t deny that.”
You feel more at ease, now that you’ve told Jinyoung what you’ve been wanting to tell him. It feels lighter, your brain and your heart. You hated the days where Jinyoung ignored you and you’re left imagining what you would do without him in your life. The thought alone scares you, the fact that you’ve been so comfortable with Jinyoung beside you and you never thought he’ll leave you for someone else someday.
“So you still like him.” Jinyoung confirms and turns around to his note again, picking up his pen. 
You scream, pulling him away from his work and tugs him nearer, trying to have all his attention on you. Jinyoung struggles to escape from your grips but fails miserably, laughing along the way. You join him, laughing together as you bring him nearer.
“Let me go, oh god. Since when you’re so strong?” he wrestles his way out of your grip again, hoisting you up and throws you on the bed easily. “Did you practise lifting Jaehyun’s dumbbells?”
“Yeah, I went there to exercise.” you reply deadpanned and laugh when Jinyoung tickles you as a revenge.
“Hey.” you call out, trying to get his attention again. Jinyoung’s arms have you caged, he’s on top of you while you lie comfortably on his bed. “Is it true?”
“What is?” Jinyoung’s eyes rake you face up and down, like how his thoughts are running wild inside his brain. He doesn’t know what to do, does he confess now? Does he confirm that it’s true? Does it mean you’ll be his? Can he do that? Can he kiss you?
“Is it true that you like me?” just as Jinyoung, you’re nervous. You’re conflicted. What if he doesn’t actually like you? What is Jaehyun really bad at guessing? You’re not surprised, nothing surprises you about Jaehyun anymore.
“What if it’s true?” 
“I’d be so happy.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been thinking for a while and I don’t think i can ever end up with someone else other than you.”
“Oh yeah?” Jinyoung’s heart stops at your confession, then beats harder as he feels his adrenaline pumping his blood faster. “Can I kiss you now?”
You shake your head, watching Jinyoung’s eyes grow and a cute frown appears on his face. You wanted to laugh but you held back, looking straight into his eyes.
“Why not?”
“You haven’t said you like me.”
“Oh my god.” he curses, turning away from you when he feels his face grows hotter. “Fuck- fine. I like you. Are you satisfied?”
You laugh, nodding furiously. Jinyoung doesn’t waste any more seconds, diving right then to press his plump lips to yours, taking the perfect shape of your lips in his. 
Finally. His mind says, Fucking finally.
“God. finally.” he mutters to himself, somewhat trying to convince himself that indeed, he’s kissing you. “Oh god.”
“Do you know how long I have been dying to kiss you?” he reaches down to press another kiss on your temple, another on your cheeks, nose and your chin, then pressing the last one on your lips once again.
You chuckle under him, pressing your palms on his chest to hold him. “How long?”
“Too long, I’ve forgotten already.” his reply earns another laugh from you. 
Jinyoung moves to lie beside you, watching you play with the string of his hoodie. It’s funny how time works. About fifteen minutes ago you’re sitting on your bed, trying to fix things up and now you’re lying beside him after he kissed you breathless.
“I thought you’re dating Jaehyun.” he did. He really thought that after what happened, you’d hate him. “I hated myself for screaming at you.”
A strand of his hair falls on his forehead and you reach to swipe it away, pushing his locks behind. “Yeah, you’re quite rude.”
“Very rude.”
“I thought our friendship is ending.” you confess, eyes on his chest instead of his face. “I thought it’s the end of us. That you got fed up with me.”
“Then it turns out that you’re just a jealous boy.”
Jinyoung pushes your chin up, making you face him. “Just a jealous boy? You didn’t know how jealous I am when everything is about Jaehyun! Have you ever heard I talk about other girls? No right? See who’s rude now?”
Another laugh escapes you and you caress his face, calming him down. “I didn’t know, okay. I thought you were fine with it.”
“Yeah right.”
“But we’re here now, right? You don’t have to be jealous anymore.”
“Really?” Jinyoung’s finger finds your lock, playing with the strand. “Do you like me too?”
You really want to make him suffer a bit. Just a bit since he’s being a pain in the ass for ignoring you for one week straight. 
“Hmm, I need to think about that again.” you grin, sending Jinyoung into a series of screams.
“What the- out!” he pushes you off his bed with you hanging onto him while your laugh fills the room. “Get out of my bed!”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe you! Did you just play me?”
“Is my feeling that easy?”
“Get out of my bed!”
“Jinyoung!”
“Out!”
You don’t know about your feelings, just yet. But there’s one thing for sure. You love Jinyoung’s kisses. You can deal with that. But his petty ass? That calls for a serious mental discussion.
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