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#do you like soulmates aus i love soulmates aus i love ones where when you first finally meet ur soulmate and he is just a weird guy
wolfstarlibrarian · 2 days
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Hiii, I am searching for a fic I read before, but I can't find it.
It was on ao3 and was a wolfstar fic, where Soulmates have marks on their body from where their soulmates have been harmed. It also shows spell and in the fic this was how Remus found out that Sirius was harmed by his family. I think physical harm was shown in golden on the other persons body. The fic was in Hogwarts and the marauders were probably teenagers.
I would really like to reread the fic, so it would be great if youd find it :)
Hello friend! This one is proving difficult to find, so hopefully another helpful fan will help us find this fic in particular. However, the Librarian has some soulmate fics to help you fill the void in the meantime. An old list and some new additions all on soulmates.
Wolfstar Soulmates 1
Wolfstar Soulmates 2
Shackle Me by @elixirsoflife (includes feeling soulmate's pain) Soulmates aren't nearly as romantic as you think they are. Sirius knows.
nobody loves me (like you do) by @iamsiriuslyriddikulus Everybody has a TiMER on their wrist which counts down to the moment they meet their soulmate. When Remus's goes black at 16, he knows it must mean his soulmate died. Cue Sirius Black, entering his life like a whirlwind. It's just too bad that he has a TiMER.
As the Moon Knows the Stars by @mcdynamite On the day Sirius Black turned seventeen, he had his soulmark removed in order to protect the soulmate he'd never met from the wrath of his own family. In the eight years since, he's managed to make his peace with living the rest of his life without falling in love. Though he mourns his lost soulmate every day, he's confident he made the right choice to protect them, and no one has ever made him question that. Until, of course, Lily Evans brings her childhood friend along for a pub night, and Sirius finds himself utterly enamored with the kind, mysterious stranger. But Remus Lupin surely has a soulmate of his own waiting out there somewhere, and Sirius won't let himself get in the way of that. He just wishes Remus weren't so damn easy to love.
Museum of Flight by Obsessive_RS Sirius watches him ceaselessly, the motion of his long fingers visible in the silver moonlight coming through the staircase’s window. “You’re the best mate a bloke can ask for.” Sirius says, but something about it seems wrong and insincere, like an unfinished statement hanging in the air, waiting to be grabbed and fulfilled. A soulmate AU in which Sirius doesn't get his mark when he's supposed to, and neither does Remus. (Modern AU.)
I found you by @de-sire-blog On a sunny, absolutely ordinary Tuesday morning, after twenty-six years of longing, yearning, searching, Sirius Black finally finds his soulmate. He’s not a fair maiden in need of saving, he’s not a prince on a white horse. He is just a werewolf with a Welsh accent and a little too much self-loathing for Sirius’ liking. Regardless, he’s not disappointed.
Soulmates by @rpenthusiast In which Sirius Black is a Squib, yet still manages to be best friends with three wizards and the soulmate of a werewolf.
If you know of a soulmate fic where they feel each other's pain, please send it in!
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blacklegsanjiii · 1 day
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Rest in peace Perona her efforts will not be in vain… she’s having the formative sapphic experience of Definitely flirting with someone but them being too oblivious to ever pick it up so they’re just stuck in a friendship hole.
And the boys with Zoro 😭 they’re not doing any better . They miss their brother…!
Though thinking about it with what you said about not really believing in soul marks in regards to Zoro and zosan being implied to be soulmates, I feel like if that ever came up they’d tear him a new one . Zoro is entirely decked out in threes. The swords, the earrings, he prefers doing things in sets of three (new thing he didn’t know about himself that the brothers point out to him actually) , so is their three just not good enough for him??? Huh ???
Though also that leads me to ask. How are zosan in this au? I imagine they’re kinda turbulent in their usual way, but it would be fun to know more 👁️
- Wine
THIS IS SO LONG WINE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME??
(thank you this is very fun)
Perona will never be forgotten! Mihawk will also make sure she knows her failures are not her fault, but that it is quite funny to see her fail. Perona argues that it's easier for him and Sora just because they have soulmarks. Sora then tells them about their first meeting and that it was a whole event and she's surprised the guards didn't kill him. Mihawk argues that he would have just kidnapped her then and there and killed the guards if they wouldn't release him. Sora just frowning at him with crossed arms. Mihawk stares back and points out it was an entirely valid option.
Where as 124ji miss their brother and whine about not being able to talk to him or get any updates on him for two years. They look at the hilts and braids on Zoro's swords and think of their brother and his mark. They ask Zoro about his mark and he shrugs and shows them. It's a school of all different types of fish in the bluest blue they've seen but it's on his back. They ask if they know who his soulmate is because they know. They can tell who it is but Zoro has no clue and doesn't care really. So they don't tell him. When Mihawk finds out he asks Zoro why he thinks denying himself will make him stronger at some point during their training together. Zoro says he wants to focus on fulfilling his dream and making sure Luffy becomes the king of the pirates. Mihawk sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose and points out he didn't get become the greatest until he was in his thirties, after he saved Sora and started raising all the kids. Zoro shrugs and says that doesn't know what that has to do with him and Mihawk says it's a waste to ignore the power of having something to protect, that having that person, that family draws a strength greater than just wanting to be the the greatest.
Zoro shrugs and 124ji bemoan their brother going through soulmate rejection because they remember the rose colored view of soulmates Sanji had. Zoro looks at them with confusion and Niji says they were right about it when they were younger. Zoro asks what they mean and they point out the three swords, three earrings, that he does do things in three so what is about Sanji that he doesn't like so he rejects his soulmate. Zoro is staring at them. Because they're clearly fed up and they're talking about how they were right when they were younger about his soulmate not loving him as much as they do. Zoro argues he's never even seen the cook's soulmark and Mihawk chides his sons to be quiet. Zoro didn't want to know or be held back by his soulmate after all.
Zoro of course is thinking back to the cook asking him about soulmates in Cocoyashi after they saved Nami and her village and what he told the cook who nodded and stayed quiet. The agression and snide remarks. Of course it had to be the cook. Zoro always found Sanji when the blond got lost in the woods and always tailored food to him. So now Zoro, who's kinda been a dick to his soulmate for months and he's staying with his family and planning to kill his dad. The blond who has been telling people he knows his soulmate but they're not together, won't ever be together. The blond who sometimes gets a faraway look in his eye before going back to give his all to care for the crew.
Also like Sanji has to absolutely have game if Zoro "rejected" him. With all the flirting he was doing as a teen hoping to find his soulmate he has gotta have so much fucking game. So Zoro is with Mihawk and Sora and their kids and Perona as he running through the gambit of emotions of what happened up until Sabaody and he just looks like when Perona hit him with a ghost on Thriller Bark. Perona is yelling at Zoro that he's been so fucking dum and not cute because only he could reject his soulmate who is a one way ticket to Mihawk.
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sevedraws · 11 months
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WE ARE SO BACK
hehe visual pieces for the @natshigbigbang for @likezoinxman’s fic By Any Other Name
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lexalovesbooks · 4 months
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Soulmate AUs are the number one way to make me insufferable ngl
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synonymroll648 · 9 months
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absolutely evil fic idea! sophitz soulmates au where post-war they reconcile but also find out that fitz won't make it to 100 due to the severity of his shadowflux echoes and the reason sophie kept surviving seemingly impossible odds was because the black swan 'accidentally' made her immortal.
to make things extra cruel: consider how fitz canonically counts on having thousands of years ahead of him to build himself a future he enjoys, and how sophie canonically struggles w/ the idea of living forever due to her human upbringing (plus the canon-compliant possibility of her hearing ten bajillion tales growing up of how immortality is a curse) :D
#i love love love soulmate au's. usually for the fluff. but this. this...#this intrigues me conceptually so much that i think exploring it would be worth the pain#i have way too many wips rn to write this. but#that doesn't mean i can't share it w/ you guys :)#i just keep thinking of how the tables of 'fitz comforting sophie about living forever because he'll be there' will flip#and it could flip in SO many ways#it could be sophie comforting fitz about death being inevitable because she grew up around death#and knows that death can be a well deserved (fairly) happy ending if fate is kind enough and you play your cards right#but it could also be them being so so so openly envious of each other's lifespans#like we could have a screaming match in the dead of night where fitz is like#how the FUCK is it fair that we both have echoes but I'M the only one that's doomed to die young because of them? how the HELL do you have#ANY right to speak on this? on how i should deal w/ having THOUSANDS OF YEARS RIPPED OUT OF MY HANDS?#and sophie's like well i don't know fitz! how the FUCK is it fair that you're the one that gets to have a finish line? how the HELL am i#supposed to be happy about NEVER getting to stop? about ALWAYS having to be the moonlark? about INEVITABLY LOSING EVERYONE I LOVE BECAUSE#THEY'LL BE DEAD?#honestly you could have both. you SHOULD have both. imo. hurt/comfort babyyyyy#also. if you want. you can have this be a thing where the immortal falls in love w/ the same soul again#but fitz never comes back as an elf. always something mortal#also when fitz dies. having a throwback to the search and having one of them go 'fuck time. fuck death. i'll find you again and again'#less 'death cannot do us apart' and more 'death can only separate us temporarily'#also. sophie having to watch fitz deteriorate from the golden boy she knew to barely hanging on to life. and fitz having to deal w/#sophie never changing in any physical way#don't you love feeling sad guys? angsty if you will? /t#sophitz#sophie foster#fitz vacker#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc fic idea#sophitz fic idea
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smileysuh · 2 months
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Love, Cupid
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🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”
tw/cw. unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, love drunk Mingyu, fingering, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, hand-holding during sex, Mingyu is somewhat subby/switchy, mainly missionary to accommodate for his wings, sensitive wings, hand job, mention of birth control, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, etc… I pet names: (his) big guy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.4k
🍭 aus. mythical/roman/cupid au, soulmate au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this man has me in a chokehold
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Prologue - the accident
“I’m still not really sure why we needed a new cupid,” Mingyu confesses, toying with the elegantly curved, white bow in his hands. “But I guess if anyone is going to teach you how to do this, it should be me.”
It’s no secret that out of the twelve high council cupids, Mingyu is the one who is most obsessed with love. He lives, breathes and dreams of it. Every second of the immortal man’s life is dedicated to love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Out of all of Venus’s children, Mingyu is the favorite, and he has no worries that training this new cupid will lead to competition in that regard. Chan seems nice enough, but Mingyu can already tell that the kid has a lot to learn when it comes to the duty of being a matchmaker.
“Our arrows are the most powerful weapon on earth,” Mingyu explains, hovering with his new younger brother over the busy city street. They each have large angelic wings that keep them aloft, and extra cupid magic makes it so they’re invisible to the human eye. Mingyu’s favorite place to people-watch is from the sky, it gives him a bird’s eye view, and an easy way to trail his targets without anything getting in the way. 
“I thought Jupiter’s lightning bolt was the most powerful weapon on earth,” Chan muses.
“It’s not.”
“Neptune’s trident then.”
Mingyu lets out a deep sigh. “Are you here to learn or not?”
“I just want you to explain it to me. How is your bow and arrow the most powerful weapon?” Chan acts as if he’s just looking for information, but Mingyu gets the sneaking suspicion that the young cupid is toying with him. He seems to be cut from the same cloth as the likes of Jeonghan and Soonyoung, who identify as more mischievous and tricksy than most deities supposedly enamored with love.
“Love is the most powerful thing on Earth,” Mingyu states, “and our tools are the makers of love, for humans anyways. Do you know how many wars were started in the name of love? How many people have died for love? Love is the most important and powerful emotion. Without it, humanity has nothing.” 
“I’m still not sure I agree with you on this,” Chan sighs.
“You don’t have to agree with me, because I’m right, and I know I’m right. Now shut up and watch,” Mingyu shushes the younger cupid, pointing at the street below. “Do you see that human?”
Chan flies closer to Mingyu, angling his head toward the elder cupid’s large bicep, looking down his arm to the point of his finger. “The pretty girl?”
“Yes, exactly! Her!” 
“Are we going to shoot her?”
“Yes, but we can’t just shoot her randomly- when we shoot her, she’ll fall in love with the first person she sees- the first person she looks at, and we can’t have her falling in love with just anyone on the street. That would be very irresponsible of us. Once shot, a soul connection forms- our arrows can never miss, and they can never be shot nonchalantly.”
“Or what?”
“Or it would be very, very bad, and as I said, irresponsible, and just… not good. Our job is to find a good match for as many humans as possible, and we can do this by looking at their auras. You see how her aura is pink?” God, Mingyu loves looking at your aura. You’ve got one of the prettiest auras he’s ever seen, and Mingyu’s been around for an extremely long time. “Each aura means something different. Pink souls are romantics, they’re soft. Pinks do best with other pinks, other pinks make them the most fulfilled. They can also manage a red, as they’ll draw on each other’s mutual passions. White auras are also suitable for pinks.”
“Yeah, I know about arua colour.,” Chan rolls his eyes. “Blues work best with blues, they can also do well with greens or purples. Greens do best with yellows, greens or blues. Purple does blue or red. I’m not in primary school.” 
Mingyu has no clue how old the new cupid is. It’s a very human joke to make- mentioning primary school. Cupids are born, sure, but they age differently than humans, faster. Mingyu supposes that as the newest cupid, maybe Chan is a representation of the times- but if he starts bringing out Gen Z humor and saying things like “this is lit” while shooting his marks, Mingyu might just have a heart attack.
“These days, pink can be a rare aura to find in men,” Mingyu admits. “I’ve considered a few red auras for her- but she’s so soft, I wouldn’t want her to be overwhelmed. Reds are prone to anger, and a pink can soften them out, but a red aura will always be red, and I don’t think I want that for her.”
“Are you always this wrapped up in the matches you make?” Chan asks. “This shit seems easy- I see an orange aura, I match them with an orange, yellow, or red. I see a pink, I match her with a pink, white or red. It’s not that serious.”
“How could it be anything but serious!?” Mingyu groans. “I told you, our arrow is the most dangerous weapon in the world- you can’t just go around shooting people randomly!”
“But you haven’t actually explained what would happen if I did,” the new cupid points out.
“I told you, it’s irresponsible.”
“Yeah, but what does that mean?”
“It means bad things would happen!”
“Bad things like what, though?”
Mingyu loves love. He’s a soft cupid. But for the love of Venus, he’s beginning to want to strangle Chan. 
Instead of answering, Mingyu’s gaze finds you again. Chan doesn’t have to take this seriously, Mingyu’s on a mission to find you a soulmate, and he’ll stop at nothing-
“Ouch!” Mingyu flinches, tearing his eyes from you and grabbing at his arm, where an arrow is protruding from his bicep. The cupid’s jaw drops, and he looks to the younger mischief maker.
“Oops?” Chan shrugs.
“Why did you do that!?” Mingyu screams, tearing the arrow out and covering the wound before it begins to drip his golden immortal blood. 
“I wanted to see what would happen if I randomly shot a couple without doing research. She’s pink. You’re the pinkest soul I’ve ever even seen- it’s a good match, no?” Chan grins. “Like… what’s the worst that could happen?”
Mingyu can’t even speak. He can’t find the words. 
Never, in the history of the world - as far as Mingyu knows it - has one cupid shot another, let alone with the intention of binding their soul to a mortal’s. 
But to be completely fair, Mingyu can’t even find it within himself to be mad at Chan. For one, he should have never given the new cupid his own bow and arrow, and maybe more importantly- Chan might have been right in binding the two of you. Because holy shit, you’ve got the prettiest soul Mingyu’s ever seen, and he’s been hesitant to match you up with someone, worried they’d be unworthy-
What’s a better fit for your pretty pink aura than his own vibrant magenta self?
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One - the cupid council 
“And then…” Mingyu looks around at the council of Cupids, taking a deep breath as he gets to the climax of the report, “Chan shot me.”
“He shot you?” Seungcheol grins, adjusting in his golden throne as he looks at the two immortals in the center of the room.
“With an arrow,” Mingyu clarifies. “Yeah.”
The eldest cupid stifles laughter, lifting a hand to half cover his mouth as he giggles and looks around at the others. Jeonghan meets the eldest’s gaze, also grinning. There are mixed reactions from others, and it’s Soonyoung of all people who stands up as if this whole thing is blasphemy, declaring, “Take the kid’s arrows away!”
“Why did this kid even get made,” Jihoon groans, rubbing his temples in annoyance.
“Hey!” Chan declares, offended at the notion of him being a useless creation from their godly mother. 
“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol waves a hand, “take his arrows away.”
“Wait, no, I earned these!” Chan holds his bow and quiver close to his chest, hiding behind Mingyu when one of the other cupids gets closer to relieve him of his weapons. 
“You shot an elder cupid,” Seungcheol says dismissively. “How does that count as earning your bow and arrow, or for that matter, your wings.” The eldest eyes the small white protrusions that flutter behind Chan, who shudders at the idea of them being taken away along with his cupid tools.
“Okay, everyone relax,” Jeonghan sighs, standing from his throne to address the room. “This isn’t Chan’s fault. I’d heard Mingyu was having trouble with a mark, being indecisive- and I wasn’t the only one who heard about it. This instruction came from Mother herself. Chan was just following orders. He has earned his bow and arrow, as well as his wings.”
“This order came from Mother?” Seungcheol sits up in his chair, jaw-dropping.
Venus is generally very hands-off with her sons. The idea that she’d heard about Mingyu’s predicament, and stepped in with an idea like this- well, it’s completely abnormal, and it’s clear that everyone on the cupid council is shocked by the revelation. 
“She said something along the lines of… ‘Mingyu loves love, and it’s time he experiences it for himself.’” Jeonghan waves a hand nonchalantly, as if this is an everyday occurrence. 
“What were you doing with Mother?” Wonwoo asks, and it’s clear in his tone that he’s not entirely trusting of the elder, more mischievous cupid.
“She has favorites, you know,” Jeonghan grins. “To Mingyu, she gifted love, to me, she gifted the role of messenger.” 
“That’s some gift,” Seungcheol scoffs, but Mingyu gets the sense that Seungcheol wishes he’d been the one chosen to be privy to this information. “So Mother wants Mingyu to do what? Seduce a human?”
“Like it will be hard?” Jeonghan lets out a barking laugh. “This is our Mingyu we’re talking about. If anyone can seduce a human, it’s him.”
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Two - the first meet
“Ok, but what if you shoot her too?” Mingyu suggests as he and Chan follow you from a distance, flying through the clear evening sky while you head home from work.
“Why don’t you shoot her?” Chan retorts.
“Jeeze,” Mingyu rolls his eyes at the newness of his sidekick. “You shot me, so I’m bonded to her now, which means only you can make her second connection. It’s a rule to make sure cupids don’t get in each other’s way. You shot me to fall for her, and if I shot her to fall for anyone else, that would lead to unrequited love, which isn’t fun for anyone.”
“A rule? What would happen if you tried to shoot her though? I mean, unless you and all the other cupids constantly communicate about your marks, there’s no way to know which human belongs to which cupid, is there?”
“What’s with you and breaking rules?” Mingyu sighs, rubbing at his temples. “Listen, I’m not testing fate again… also, most cities are split into small zones. Cupids stick to their zones.”
“Humans don’t though,” Chan points out.
“I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”
“Okay, suit yourself.”
“So will you shoot her for me?”
“Mmmm,” Chan makes a face. “I don’t think so.”
“What?!” Mingyu stops flying, staring at the cupid that he’s supposed to be training. “But… but I’m your teacher, and I’m telling you to shoot her for me!”
“That would be too easy though, right?” Chan flashes a grin. “Plus- that would be an abuse of power, Mingyu. You’re in love with her now, so telling me to force her to fall for you isn’t very fair, now is it?” 
“I-” Mingyu bites at his tongue. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Well… we know I’m best for her. It wouldn’t be an abuse because we know I’ll treat her right.”
“The thing is…” Chan lets out a yawn, “I’m still not convinced.”
“So you expect me to just go and talk to her?”
“Yeah?” The younger cupid shrugs. “You’re supposed to be some sex god, aren’t you?”
“No one’s ever called me that…” Mingyu can feel his skin heating at the notion. “I’m a love cupid, not a sex god.”
“Same thing,” Chan scoffs. “Just go talk to her. Come on, follow me.” He takes a nose dive, approaching the ground at a speed that makes Mingyu worry for his safety- only for Chan to land like a pro, waving at him to hurry up.
With a groan, Mingyu follows the younger cupid, his feet touching down onto the pavement of the crowded street.
“You can’t go talk to her looking like this,” Chan explains, looking Mingyu up and down.
As immortal beings, they’re impervious to the temperatures of the evening. Dressed in a cream-coloured toga, Mingyu stands out amongst the jackets and hats worn to protect human skin from the cold. “Give me a sec,” Mingyu sighs, using some cupid magic to transform his outward appearance, conjuring an outfit he thinks might draw you in. “How’s this?”
“A suit? Seriously?” Chan rolls his eyes.
“Suits are in!” Mingyu insists.
“Yeah, if you want to look like a sugar daddy.”
“Maybe she wants a sugar daddy?” Mingyu suggests.
“Aren’t you supposed to be some human expert? She’s a pink soul, Mingyu, how many pink souls really value money over personality?”
“So you know more about humans than I do now?” Mingyu can’t believe what he’s hearing out of his ward’s mouth.
“I think love is blinding you, dude,” Chan says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s expensive silk tie. “You’re pretending to be someone you’re not.”
“I’m rich,” Mingyu insists. 
“Sure, but you’re not a sugar daddy, you’re a cupid.”
Mingyu scoffs. “So what would you want me to wear?” 
“Blue jeans, maybe a hoodie, something that screams ‘make me your boyfriend.’”
Mingyu has to concede that Chan might be onto something, but he refuses to admit it out loud. In fact, Mingyu buries deeper into his conviction that you’ll like the suit. “This outfit is staying,” he states.
“Fine,” Chan shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
With one final grin and giggle at his own double entendre, Chan pushes Mingyu roughly, causing him to fall back and bump directly into you. The rough contact jolts Mingyu into a corporeal form, putting him fully into your visibility as you steady yourself and blink up at him.
“Oh, uh… excuse me?” You’re a little stunned- but Mingyu supposes that's what happens when a man appears out of thin air. 
“No, that was my fault,” Mingyu assures you quickly. “I uh… two left feet.”
“Right…” You look down, then back up at Mingyu, giving him a soft smile before stepping past him to continue on with your night.
Mingyu watches you in shock, then he pulls himself out of it, rushing to follow you. “I uh- I should make it up to you!”
“Don’t worry about it,” you wave a hand.
“But I do worry about it,” Mingyu insists, putting himself in front of you this time. “Here,” he conjures a flower from behind his back, holding it out to you, “Something to say sorry.”
You stop, staring up at him and then down at the rose. “You just happen to have that?” you ask quizically. “Were you trying to bump into me or something?”
“No, I just had the flower.” Mingyu would be sweating if he was a being who could sweat.
“Sure you did,” you laugh. “Look, I’m sure whatever girl you actually had that flower for would like it more than me.”
“I swear, it’s for you- look, forget the flower,” Mingyu tosses it onto the ground. “There must be some way I can make this up to you.”
“Dude, you bumped into me on the street, we’re good.” 
Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say, so he simply says, “Please?”
You let out a sigh. “If I give you my number, will you let this go?”
“Uh huh.”
“Do you have a pen?” 
Mingyu conjures one in his pocket, pulling it out to give it to you. When you take the pen, you grab his wrist, pulling his palm close so you can scrawl across it. 
The cupid watches your every action, etching it into his memory. You’re so lovely, your pretty pink aura wrapped around you like a warm halo. When he takes in a deep breath, he can smell the touch of roses in the air, a lover-girl scent-
“There,” you sigh, releasing his hand. “Now I really have somewhere to be.”
“Okay,” Mingyu murmurs, holding his palm close. “Have a good night.”
“You too, big guy,” you say, laughing to yourself as you brush past him.
It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize he never got your name and vice versa. He’s tempted to rush after you, only for a hand to clap down on his shoulder.
“Dude,” Chan grins, “that was embarrassing to watch. You have like, zero rizz.”
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Three - the date
Mingyu is doing his best. He’d texted you a safe amount to plan your date. He’d picked you up in an expensive car, held doors open for you, and now, you’re eating at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.
Even so, Mingyu can tell that something is off with you. As you pick at the appetizer, Mingyu finally gets the courage to ask what’s wrong.
“You want the honest truth?” you laugh, leaning back in your chair.
“Always.” Mingyu puts down his fork and knife, focusing on you completely.
“I’m thankful for the date,” you start. “Taking me somewhere nice is really sweet of you and everything, it’s just… I don’t know. I think lots of men these days think all girls want is money. As nice as this is- as nice as your car is, and this restaurant, I don’t think I’m the kind of girl that fits with this vibe.”
“You’re not?”
You shake your head. “You’re clearly a guy that’s well off, and I’m happy for you about that, but… I feel like when guys take me to nice places, they always expect something in return. There’s this expectation that when money gets put down, the girl has to put out too, just… in other ways.”
“Other ways? Like what?”
You scoff, giving him a look. “You know what other ways.”
Except Mingyu doesn’t know, because he’s never actually been on a date, especially not with a human. He has no idea what sort of expectations are normal, especially in your mundane world. As a cupid, he sets up the matches, but he doesn’t really follow along with the journey and see what his marks get up to after being shot with his arrow. 
“Can I be honest too?” Mingyu asks after a moment of contemplation.
“Of course.”
“I uh…” He picks his words carefully. “I don’t really date often. So… whatever expectations you think I might have, just know that I don’t have any. I just want to get to know you. That’s it. I promise.”
You stare at him, and Mingyu gets lost in your eyes. He’s more than happy to wait patiently while you think of a response, it gives him time to appreciate your beautiful form-
“You’re serious?” you ask finally.
“Uh huh,” Mingyu nods. “You seem surprised.”
“I just... You’re all handsome and dressed well, and you have a nice car, and you’ve obviously got money- I just sort of assumed you were a sugar daddy or something. Someone used to taking girls out.”
Mingyu hates the use of the term ‘sugar daddy.’ It’s clear to him that Chan was right about the vibes of his clothing choices, and the cupid will admit that the car he conjured was maybe a tad too fancy. He’s been going about this all wrong, putting up a facade, creating a version of himself that he thought you would like.
Maybe Mingyu truly doesn’t know anything about you. He just hopes this misstep isn't enough to drive you away. 
“I’ve been single a long time,” Mingyu admits. “I guess, maybe I got wrapped up in doing the things I thought you would like. I figured most girls like to be wined and dined, but I never really asked you what you wanted to do. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Can we start over?” Mingyu suggests.
You smile softly, nodding.
Mingyu thinks about it for a moment before he comes up with a question that he thinks could redirect this whole situation for the better. “If I could go back, and let you choose what type of date this would be, what would we have ended up doing?”
“I find that first dates where we can walk around and see stuff together are kind of nice,” you admit. “Formal things like this, face to face, over food- they kind of make me anxious. And lulls in the conversation are more obvious.”
You’re very right about that. Every long moment of silence has made Mingyu’s heart race, and he’s rushed to fill it with surface-level questions that never seemed to hit their mark. It’s interesting that he’s learning about dating from you. 
Mingyu has never realized how little he actually knows about the rituals of love.
“How do you feel about me covering the bill for our drinks and appetizer, then we can get out of here?” Mingyu suggests. 
“You don’t want dinner?”
“If you want food, I’ll get you food,” he tells you, “but it sounds like you’d rather be on a walk, so let's go for a walk.”
You offer him another soft smile, and Mingyu can see the way your pink aura flutters with interest. It’s the first time you’ve really glowed for him tonight, so he knows he’s headed in the right direction with this line of thought.
“A walk would be perfect.”
Half an hour later, the two of you are walking side by side through one of the small city parks. 
You were right about the awkward pauses disappearing. Conversation is flowing steadily, and Mingyu couldn’t be happier. You tell him about your job, your friends, the things you do that make you happy, hobbies that have stuck with you since you were younger. 
Mingyu is practically overflowing with questions now, and every response you give him is committed to memory. 
“It’s such a nice night,” you say wistfully, pausing to look up at the sky, which is visible through a clearing in the tree canopy.
“It is,” Mingyu agrees, taking a deep breath and simply enjoying the moment.
That’s when a familiar cupid flies across his view, and Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest. 
“Should we sit down somewhere?” Mingyu asks, looking at a bench a short distance away. It’s next to a large Oak, and Mingyu hopes that the leaf foliage can give him some privacy with you, away from any curious eyes.
You nod, gently grabbing onto his arm as you begin to walk.
Mingyu’s breath catches at the contact, a jolt of energy running through his entire form. He can feel his heart lurching again, but this is a much more pleasant feeling than before. His throat is dry, and he swallows thickly to clear it, skin heating into something like a blush.
He’s happy you’re not seated across from each other in some stuffy restaurant. With the low light of street lamps that line the walkway, there’s no way you’ll be able to see the flush of his skin. As much as Mingyu is a love cupid, he doesn’t want it to be too obvious that he’s enraptured with you.
He’s terrified that anything he does could scare you off, and he’d hate himself if that ever happened. 
“Anyways,” you sigh as the two of you sit down, “enough about me, what about you?”
“Hmm?” Mingyu shuffles, turning to look at you only to find that you’ve angled your body toward him, your gaze fixed on his profile.
“What do you do for work?”
“Uh…” Mingyu doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the full truth either. “I’m a matchmaker, actually.”
“A matchmaker?” you repeat, surprise evident in the tone of your voice.
“Yeah. I set people up.”
“I didn’t know that was an actual job.”
“There’s lots of Korean Ajummas who want to set up their daughters or relatives with good men,” Mingyu explains, opting for a white lie. 
“I see,” you nod. “A matchmaker who doesn’t date.”
“Yeah…” Mingyu clears his throat again. “Would you believe me if I said I’m pretty good at my job?”
“Maybe,” you grin. “What makes you good at your job? If not experience in the dating arena.”
“I think I’ve just always been someone who reads people. Matching is in my blood- although, after my mess up on reading you, I’m starting to wonder how successful I’ve actually been.”
“You didn’t mess up that badly,” you assure him. “And when given the opportunity to correct your misread, you did. I’m having a really good time with you now that we’re on a walk.”
“You are?” Mingyu feels like jumping up and celebrating, but he holds himself down to earth. “I’m uh, I’m having a really good time with you too.”
Instead of responding, you simply lean your head onto his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh of contentment. 
The cupid holds very still, not wanting to move a muscle in the fear that you’ll pull away.
“Do you have any family?” you ask.
“A few brothers,” Mingyu responds.
“Are you close?”
Mingyu laughs. “With some.”
“Family can be an interesting experience,” you muse.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Mingyu admits, looking out at the dark field in front of you, where Chan does another fly-by. 
 “I hate to say this, but I have an early morning work thing,” you sigh. “I should probably be getting home.”
“Wanna go back to my car at the restaurant? I can drive you.”
“My place actually isn’t that far from here, I was thinking I might just walk… but then again,” you let out a laugh, “these heels are kind of killing my feet.”
“What if I carry you home?”
You pull away from his shoulder, giving him a doubtful look.
“You don’t think I can carry you?” Mingyu asks in shock.
“It’s not that-”
“Come on,” Mingyu gets to his feet. “Get on my back,  it will be fun, I promise.”
You give him another unsure look, but finally you stand too. Mingyu turns around, bending so you can jump onto his back. The moment you’re pressed against him, he feels like he’s in heaven. He can feel your breath along the back of his neck, and it sets every inch of him on fire.
“Hold on,” he tells you, enjoying the way you wrap your grip tighter around his broad shoulders, locking your fingers together by his chest.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you admit with a shaky laugh.
“You trusted me,” Mingyu says, “and I’m not going to let you down… until we get to your apartment.”
You giggle again, and the sound is music to his ears. 
“You’re crazy,” you tell him, and yet, your aura is buzzing so bright it nearly envelopes Mingyu with how tightly you’re pressed together.
“Something tells me you don’t mind.”
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Four - the fuck up
“You know what you said about zones the other day?” Chan asks while he and Mingyu sit on the ledge of a tall building, looking down at the humans below.
“Yeah?”
“You said that cupids stick to their zones, right?”
“Yup.” Mingyu’s so annoyed by Chan he could scream. They’re supposed to be looking at auras, looking for a target for the day, but Chan’s head is off in the clouds-
“Okay, I just wanted to be sure.”
Mingyu lets out a deep breath, turning to look at Chan. “What was the point of those questions?”
“Just that… well, that’s Seokmin, isn’t it?” Chan points, and Mingyu follows his line of sight. Low and behold, Seokmin is flying two city blocks away, and it looks like he’s trailing something.
“We’re on the zone border,” Mingyu explains, but as he gets a bearing for the auras below, one stands out to him. “Shit.” 
“I didn’t know you could cuss, grandpa,” Chan laughs, but Mingyu’s already pushing off from the ledge, his large wings unfurrowing so they can beat at the air, carrying him quickly toward the other cupid, leaving Chan in his dust. “Wait! Slow down!”
But Mingyu can’t slow down, because if he’s correct, it looks like Seokmin is trailing a very familiar pink aura that weaves amongst the muted people below. 
Mingyu’s wings are large. They’re the largest of any of the cupids, and yet, as Seokmin draws his arrow, it’s clear that Mingyu’s superior size and speed won’t help him make it to his brother in time.
“Seokmin!” he yells, catching the man’s attention just as he lets his arrow fly.
Mingyu comes to a halt in the air, breath caught as he watches the arrow. It feels like everything is in slow motion, the arrow speeding through the sky toward you-
But then, it’s as if the arrow hits your aura and the pink hue acts as some sort of protective shield. The arrow falls to the ground, bursting into flower petals that melt away into the sidewalk.
“What the fuck?” Chan has caught up to Mingyu, and his words ring true to the situation. “Did Seokmin’s arrow just miss?”
“My arrows never miss!” Seokmin insists, fluttering over. 
“But that one did,” Chan points out.
Seokmin’s eyes are wide with shock. “It didn’t! It was going to hit her!”  
Chan rolls his eyes. “But it didn’t hit her!” 
Mingyu can’t even speak. His gaze is fixed on you. The arrow missed, but you’ve come to a stop in your tracks, as if you could sense the close call you’d just somehow evaded. 
“What are you two doing here anyways?” Seokmin glares. “You distracted me.”
“That’s Mingyu’s girl,” Chan responds nonchalantly.
“Who is?”
“The chick you just tried to shoot!” 
Mingyu respects that Chan is getting so worked up about this, it’s kind of like the new cupid is trying to protect Mingyu and his love life endeavors. 
“Wait, that’s the girl Mingyu likes?!” Seokmin bellows.
“That’s the girl he loves!” Chan insists. 
“Can you both just- be quiet for a minute!?” Mingyu can’t deal with their arguing anymore, not when you’re so much more interesting.
He watches you pull out your phone-
“Do arrows even work on her?” Chan asks. “We all saw that right? It like… bounced off her aura?”
“They should work on everyone,” Seokmin responds quietly. “I mean, your arrow worked on Mingyu, for Venus’s sake.”
Mingyu’s phone rings in his pocket, the pocket he’d had conjured into his toga just to hold a line of communication with you. The other cupids turn to watch Mingyu as he lifts the human device to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hey you.” Your voice is a little off. “You busy?”
“No,” Mingyu blurts out dumbly.
“Okay, good. Uh… I wasn’t sure if I should call or text-”
“Calling is good,” he assures you.
“That’s good to know.” You let out a small laugh, tucking in closer to the building and away from the busy street traffic. “It’s the weirdest thing, but you just popped into my mind. I guess, usually I let guys ask me out for a second date, and it’s only been two days since I saw you last, but I sort of just thought fuck it, I’d call you.”
Mingyu doesn’t even know how to respond. His mind is running a million miles a minute. 
“Mingyu?” you ask. “Are you still there?”
“Sorry, yeah.”
“So… do you want to see each other again?”
“Absolutely.” 
“Good!” 
Even from a distance, Mingyu can see the way you light up, the way your aura twinkles with pretty pinks and magentas. “When… when are you free?” he asks, dazzled dumb by your beauty.
“This sounds crazy, and I get it if you’re busy, but… are you around?”
“Yeah?”
“Could we meet in an hour?”
“Yeah, I’ll uh…” Mingyu has to physically give his head a shake to speak coherently, “I’ll come pick you up.”
“Can’t wait,” you smile. “Bye, Gyu.”
“Bye.”
You hang up, but Mingyu still feels frozen. It takes a moment before he’s able to pocket his phone.
“Dude, you’re still so lame when you speak to her,” Chan muses, nudging his mentor with a grin.
“We just watched her somehow block a cupid’s arrow,” Mingyu snaps, “excuse me for needing a minute.”
“Mingyu?” This time it’s Seokmin speaking, and Mingyu hates the way he immediately flashes a glare at his brother. “Sorry, it’s just… what’s that on your wrist?”
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Five - the red string
Mingyu can’t seem to take his eyes off the red string around his wrist. He picks at the fine threads as he waits in his car for you to come down from your apartment. In fact, he’s so focused on the mysterious new bracelet that he forgets to get out of the vehicle to open your door for you.
When you open your own door it causes him to jump, heart lurching in fright- then he remembers where he is, and he’s quick to pull the sleeve of his sweater down, hiding the red string. “Hi,” he says, forcing a smile.
“You okay? I didn’t scare you, did I?” you grin, getting into the car.
“Sorry, I was just lost in thought. Where, uh… where do you wanna go today?”
“Well, I was going to let you choose, but I didn’t want to end up in a fancy restaurant again, so I was thinking something simple like coffee?”
“Coffee sounds nice,” Mingyu admits. “Any specific place you like?”
“There’s a cafe by the park we were at last time, I’ll give you directions.” You reach over, gently squeezing his thigh. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too,” he smiles, and this time, it’s not forced at all.
You make it to the cafe. After you order, Mingyu pays, and soon, the two of you are sitting in a cute little secluded booth in the corner. As you tell him about your day, Mingyu watches you take your jacket off. He admires your choice of clothes, the way the colours compliment your skin tone and the pretty pink aura you can’t even see. 
When you settle and reach for your tea, Mingyu notices something around your wrist, and he nearly chokes on his coffee. 
“You good?” you laugh, reaching out to touch his hand.
“Yeah.” Mingyu steadies himself. “Uh- what’s that red thread bracelet? I didn’t notice that on our last date.”
“Oh, this?” you look down at your wrist, lifting it a little. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Trust me,” the cupid laughs, “nothing you say could ever make me think you’re crazy.”
You give him an assessing look, but finally give in with a sigh. “Okay, so basically, one of my close friends is a witch.”
“A witch?” 
“Still think I’m not crazy?”
“You’re not crazy, but I haven’t met this friend yet,” Mingyu teases.
“Anyways,” you take a deep breath, “she prays to Venus, and she swears on her life that Venus helped her meet her fiance. We had a bachelorette party about a week ago and she got all us bridesmaids these ‘Red Strings of Fate.’ It’s supposed to help us meet our own soulmates, or so she says.”
“Huh,” Mingyu sits back, resting his hands on the table. “I’ve never heard about ‘Red Strings of Fate.’” 
“Really? But… I mean,” your gaze dips down, “you’re wearing one too?”
Mingyu’s heart lurches, and he looks at his wrist, where the mysterious red string had appeared an hour ago. “Right…”
“Did you not know about that when you bought it? Or…?” You cock your head to the side, letting out a small laugh. “Honestly, when I saw you playing with that in the car when you picked me up, I’d kind of thought you’d gotten it to match mine.”
“I seriously didn’t even notice you had yours when we were on our last date,” Mingyu admits.
“Hmm…” Mingyu can see a glimmer of something behind your eyes, and then you grin broadly. “I guess maybe it’s just fate, huh?”
“Maybe,” Mingyu laughs.
“Where did you even gets yours?”
“It just kind of appeared,” Mingyu says honestly, only realizing what he’s said as the words leave his mouth.
“It just kind of appeared,” you repeat, looking very skeptical. Even so, you don’t question it, you simply lean back, your aura shimmering. “Guess it really is fate.”
Mingyu can’t even come up with anything else to say, so he takes a sip of his coffee.
“Listen…” you drum your fingers gently against the table, “I’ve been meaning to find a date for Luna’s wedding, but it can be hard to just run into someone you want to take to something like that. Then we quite literally ran into each other on the street, and now this whole string thing… if it’s not to soon, or too last minute, if you’d want to come to the wedding next week with me, I’d really appreciate the plus one.”
“Seriously?” Mingyu can’t believe his luck, can’t believe the cute determined set of your lips when you nod in the affirmative. “I’d love to go to this witch wedding with you.”
“As long as you don’t call her a witch to her face,” you laugh. “I think she prefers the term wicca.”
Mingyu makes a cross over his heart. “I won’t do anything to mess it up, I promise.”
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Six - the consensus
The council is silent after Seokmin and Mingyu’s testaments on the oddities related to you. The younger cupids look to the elders to come up with a consensus, and Seungcheol is the first to finally speak. 
“An arrow that didn’t strike, a red string, and a girl who thinks she’s a witch.” He lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, Mingyu.”
Mingyu stays quiet, looking at his feet as he stands in the center of the council room, Seokmin and Chan on either side of him. 
For a new cupid who stands up to his mentor all the time, Chan is being oddly quiet today. He hasn’t said a word, not even when Seokmin and Mingyu were recounting the story of how your aura had seemingly repelled an arrow. Chan’s nervousness is making Mingyu even more anxious, although he’s not sure what he has to be anxious about.
“While I’m certain we all appreciate the report,” Jeonghan says, “this union between Mingyu and his human is ordained by Mother. There’s no use discussing this further.”
“She avoided an arrow. Aren’t you the least bit curious about how a mortal did that?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in his chair. It’s not usual for Wonwoo to speak, and the fact that he’s found this story of interest makes Mingyu’s skin tingle with more worry. 
Jeonghan makes a face, shaking his head. “No.” 
“I’m more focused on this witch,” Jihoon admits, trailing his fingers along his jaw. “Magic isn’t anything new, but I wonder if this friend’s ‘connection to Venus’ is what made our mother step in.”
“I’ve never heard of a ‘red string of fate,’” Soonyoung adds. “This all seems very suspicious. Chan, what do you think?”
Chan fidgets next to Mingyu. “Uh… me?”
“No, the other cupid named Chan.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Yes, you!” 
“What do I think about what?” Chan asks dumbly.
Seungcheol sighs, Jeonghan snickers, and other cupids simply seem amused by the new cupid. 
“What do you think about all of this?” Soonyoung clarifies. “New age Venus witches and strings of fate?”
“I think…” Chan swallows, looking over at Mingyu. When he speaks again, Chan’s voice has gained confidence, and he squares his shoulders. “I think that this whole thing started when Jeonghan gave me mother’s directions to pair Mingyu up with the girl he’d been trying to match for a while. But even if I hadn’t been directed to do it, when I look at Mingyu and the human, their auras just match. I’ve never seen an aura like hers. The only aura close to it in colour is Mingyu’s. I don’t know anything about red strings of fate or witches, but I do know that nothing bad could come out of a match like this one. Or at least, that’s what my heart is telling me.”
The council is silent while they process the new cupid’s words. Mingyu can feel a warmth spreading through his chest. For a dude who’s been nothing but an annoyance and hindrance so far, Chan is growing on Mingyu.
“Chan’s right,” Seokmin says. “Her aura is just like Mingyu’s. If anyone deserves a chance to fall in love, it’s them.”
“When did you all become so sentimental,” Jihoon groans, but there’s something of a smirk under his unamused expression.
“Seokmin,” Seungcheol’s voice draws all eyes, “since you dragged yourself into this, I want you to go with Chan and Mingyu to the wedding. I trust your opinion more than Chan’s. And Mingyu, see what information you can get from the witch. Even if this is all orchestrated by mother, I want to know the ins and outs of what power this wicca believes she has.”
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Seven - the witch’s wedding
Mingyu hadn’t realized that being a plus one to someone in the wedding party meant that he’d be sitting alone in the venue while waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. He doesn’t know anyone here except for Chan and Seokmin, who are floating around eying up the singletons. Mingyu had made them promise not to shoot too many people today, but there’s already been two meet-cutes and successful matches.
The love cupid is somewhat jealous of his brothers’ ability to work, their ability to form attachments while he’s made to sit and wait. To clear his mind, he fidgets with the red string on his wrist, hidden under his suit.
The red string has become somewhat of a soothing mechanism for the cupid. It feels tangible, in an odd sort of way. He enjoys the feeling as he gently drags it across his skin, looping it over and over again-
Music begins to play through the speakers, guests turn in their seats. A young flower girl walks up the aisle, the petals she’s tossing match the soft pink dress she’s wearing, and the tie around Mingyu’s neck. You’d shown up with the fabric when he’d come to pick you up, bashfully asking him if he wanted to match with you and the bridal party. 
It was a small exchange, but it had meant the world to Mingyu. He loves the fact that he’s matching with you and your friends, loves the fact that the bride had chosen soft pink as one of the color themes. 
After the flower girl, the bridesmaids begin to file in, arm in arm with groomsmen. Mingyu studies the auras, noting that many of the people in the party have pink tones to match their outfits. He likes seeing so many pinks in one area, it’s no wonder you talk so highly of your friends, you’re all pieces torn from the same cloth. Like him.
You step into view, and Mingyu can feel his heart beginning to race. You look stunning today, even more so than usual. The joy you feel radiates off of you, illuminating your aura with shimmery glitter. 
When you walk by, you meet Mingyu’s gaze, and he feels his grin widening. All the waiting has been worth it if even for that one smile, the brief eye contact-
Venus, he loves you.
Everyone stands when the bride enters. She’s dressed in a white laced gown, with flowers in her hair, and pretty rose quartz jewelry. There’s definitely something different about her, a richness and vibrancy to her aura that screams power. 
To Mingyu’s surprise, the bride meets his eyes as she walks past, offering a small tilt to her head before she continues up the aisle. 
Mingyu thinks about the small motion from the bride throughout the ceremony. 
He hasn’t met a real witch since the dark ages. People with a true connection to the gods are few and far in between these days. Mingyu wonders what kind of power your friend holds, and what it means in regard to him and the other cupids floating around.
Even with all these wonderings, Mingyu focuses on the example of love set before him. He listens to the vows, and the grandma next to him offers him tissues to wipe away his tears. The first kiss as man and wife makes Mingyu want to cheer with joy, his heart practically exploding in his chest.
He loves love. 
When the bride and groom exit, you stand by the podium, explaining that the reception will take place in a venue two doors down from the ceremony hall. Mingyu watches you hurry out after the bride before he slowly dispurses with the rest of the guests, the kind grandma who had given him tissues latched to his arm for support.
He’s unsure of himself when he reaches the reception. There’s an entryway station that details table arrangements. “What’s your name dear?” the grandma next to him asks, adjusting some glasses on the tip of her nose.
“I don’t think I’m on the list,” Mingyu admits, scanning the seating cards. 
He tells the old woman your name and she gives him an amused look. “A plus one to the bridal party,” she nods. “Table one.”
“And where are you seated?” the cupid asks. “I’ll help you there.”
After doing his duty with the old woman, Mingyu finds himself at a table full of pink-souled love birds. They’re all gushing about the ceremony, and are more than happy to welcome the cupid into the discussion. Mingyu’s never felt so immediately at ease, and you find him this way, laughing with his new group of love-obsessed peers. 
“Hi,” you whisper, slipping into the seat next to him. 
“Hey,” he smiles, about to turn and look at you- only for your lips to press to his cheek. Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest, his body freezing for a moment before he’s able to look into your eyes. “What was that for?”
“I’m just happy you came,” you admit. 
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Mingyu retorts, and he really does mean it.
Being with you is so easy. He’d fallen for your pink vibration, and now he’s falling for the auras that your friends exude too. 
Before Mingyu even knows it, your table is being called up for food. He sticks to your side like glue as you fill your plates, and when you begin to head back to sit down, the bride waves you over. Mingyu sticks to you even as you approach your friend, who stands from the newly wed table with a grin.
“So this must be the famous Mingyu I’ve heard so much about.” The witch grins. “I’m Luna.”
She holds out a hand, and Mingyu doesn’t even hesitate to take it. There’s an immediate jolt of energy that runs through him when their skin touch, and he swallows the lump in his throat. Luna meets his gaze with a steady smile.
“Y/N, would you be so kind as to get me a glass of wine from the open bar?” Luna asks.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You squeeze Mingyu’s arm before darting away.
The cupid opens his mouth to say something, only for Luna to cut him off. “I can see your wings.”
“What?” Mingyu nearly chokes on air.
“And your friends flying around,” Luna’s gaze lifts, trailing Chan as he soars over the dance floor. “Three cupids, and yet you’re the only one with a vibrant pink aura. It’s the pretties I’ve ever seen, aside from Y/N’s, of course.”
“You really can see us,” Mingyu breathes. “My brothers, my wings, my aura-”
“I bet you thought I wasn’t a real witch, didn’t you, big guy?” Luna laughs.
“I mean…” Mingyu can’t even meet her eyes now, especially since she’s just used your petname for him. “Yeah. I didn’t think you were real.”
“Most people don’t think you’re real,” the witch retorts. “Cupids? In twenty twenty four? It’s kind of shocking, not to mention outdated.”
“We’re not outdated,” Mingyu goes to defend himself, but the look Luna shoots him makes his voice catch in his throat. 
“My first fiance was a bad match,” Luna says, capturing Mingyu’s full attention with the power of her tone. “Some white haired cupid shot me. I guess he figured I had a pink soul and this man had a red one so we’d even out. But we never did. It was bad. So bad that I started praying to Venus. When I got away from the guy, I was determined to find my next partner all by myself. A match based on actual connection. That’s how I met Jae.” Her gaze floats to her new husband, and an expression of love fills her features, her aura shimmering. “Listen. I know that you cupids try to do what you believe is right, but your matches don’t always work. That’s why I gave all my friends red strings of fate. To protect them from bad arrows… although, based off of the way you look at y/n, I’m pretty sure it’s not her who’s been shot.”
Mingyu can feel a lump in his throat. He can also feel a presence at his shoulder, and Chan leans forward to whisper, “Damn, dude, she read you for filth.”
Luna grins, looking at the new cupid behind Mingyu. “Stop shooting my guests.”
“You got it,” Chan agrees immediately. 
“Look, we don’t have much time,” Luna sighs, “but what’s the deal with this whole thing. How did you even get shot? Are you guys drinking on the job, or what?”
“Actually, Venus herself instructed I shoot Mingyu and make him fall for your friend,” Chan defends himself. “Although, he was pretty much already in love with her anyways.”
Luna’s eyes widen in shock. “Venus did this?” 
“Indirectly,” Chan nods.
“I don’t trust you guys, but I trust her,” the witch states. “I prayed to her that my friends find their soulmates, and now here you are.”
Could this really all be the witch’s doing?
Mingyu can hardly even think, he can only stand there dumbly, staring at Luna like she’s grown three extra heads and a beaver tail. 
“You have to tell y/n,” Luna says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s shoulder. “You can’t lie to her about all of this.”
“I can’t tell her-” Mingyu tries to argue, but once more, his tongue gets caught.
“You will. And we’ll hang out again soon,” Luna insists, sounding so certain that for a moment, Mingyu wonders if she has the gift of future sight.
“Hey, you two,” you appear at Mingyu’s side, holding out a glass for the bride. “What did I miss?”
“Just your new boo being adorable,” Luna grins. “He’s a keeper, this one.”
“What?” You let out a laugh, looking between Mingyu and your best friend. “But… you usually hate the guys I go out with!”
“Well, I like Mingyu,” Luna shrugs. “Something tells me he’ll be around for a long time.”
With a lift of her glass, the witch goes to sit down with her husband again, leaving you and Mingyu shocked. As you head back to your table, you cling tight to his side. “What did you even say to her?” you whisper.
“I hardly said anything,” Mingyu admits.
“Was it an aura thing? Luna always says she can read auras-”
Mingyu nearly chokes on air and it makes you grip his arm tighter.
“It was an aura thing, wasn’t it?”
“Something like that.” Mingyu doesn’t want to get into auras with you. The witch had been pretty specific about him coming clean to you, but now is definitely not the right time. 
He’s very lucky that when you take your seats, a few of your friends immediately strike up a conversation. Mingyu hides behind the discussion, staying in the peripheries while he contemplates what his life has become.
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Eight - the time to come clean
If Mingyu had been obsessed with you before the wedding, things are now on an entire other level. After his run in with the witch, you’d invited Mingyu to come dance with you. Holding you close while a slow song played had made the cupid feel in a way he’s never felt. Then, when he’d taken you home, you’d kissed him at your door step.
He can still feel the ghost of your lips pressing across his own, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine you’re still there with him. 
It’s been a distraction to say the least. Two days have gone by since that night, with you running through his mind like an olympic level track star. 
You’d invited him to come for a date at your place, offered to cook dinner, and Mingyu’s been practically holding his breath in anticipation.
He fiddles with the string around his wrist as he approaches your home, knocking lightly on the door. His breathing is shallow, and he gnaws on his lower lip while he waits.
Mingyu can’t even help himself when you open your door, he pulls you into an immediate hug, breathing in your scent and letting out a deep breath.
“Hey, big guy,” you laugh, cuddling closer, tucking your head under his chin. 
“Missed you,” Mingyu admits.
Your giggling continues. “Luna was right about you being a keeper, mister softie.”
You invite him into your home, giving Mingyu a tour. It’s hard for him to keep his focus on anything you’re saying though. You look adorably comfortable in your cute sweatpant outfit. He’s never seen you laid back like this before, and it feels like an honour that you’re trusting enough of him now to let him witness this side of you.
Soon, he finds himself in your kitchen, doing everything he can to help you prep the meal. 
If you’re the head chef, he’ll be your line cook, and be damned happy to do it.
Talking to you is just so easy these days, especially since Mingyu can monitor your aura to pick up on the topics that truly make your heart sing. He sticks to your hobbies, your friends, things that have you glowing. He enjoys when you ramble on, as it gives him a chance to stare at your lips and imagine them on his own once again.
After dinner, Mingyu treads carefully. He’s very conscious of the fact that he’s in your home, and he’d never want to overstep anything with you.
When you invite him to watch a movie, he sits a respectable distance, but when you ask him if he wants to cuddle, Mingyu can feel his resolve getting thin. 
He shuffles over to be the big spoon, watching you carefully get in position in front of him. You snuggle back, your bum brushing by the front of his blue jeans, and Mingyu’s breath catches. His hand finds your hip, keeping you still.
You look over your shoulder at him. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He swallows thickly. “I just uh… it’s nothing.”
There’s a knowing in your eyes, and your aura glimmers with a mischievous tint that Mingyu usually sees with Soonyoung and Jeonghan. 
You roll over,  facing Mingyu. Your gaze dips to his lips then back up again. “I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.”
“Yeah?” Mingyu’s voice cracks. “Thinking about what?”
“That wedding date was really nice,” you muse, reaching up to trace your finger along his jaw. “I asked a lot of you when I invited you to that, but you came through for me. Luna even likes you, and I don’t think you understand how rare that is.”
“I’m more than willing to please,” Mingyu admits.
“Oh, trust me, I know you are.” You let out a giggle, your aura practically humming with happiness. “I’ve also been thinking about that kiss.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah?” Your grin widens, and you tuck in closer to his chest.
“Can I… do you want me to kiss you again?”
“Mingyu,” you coo, “I thought you’d never ask.”
The cupid takes in a shaky breath, cupping your cheek and staring into your eyes before he closes the distance between your lips. The first kiss had been soft, and this one is just as gentle, however, as you slant your mouth against his own, it begins to last much longer than the first one had. 
You let out a small sigh, grabbing at the front of his shirt to drag yourself even closer. Your tongue darts out to lick at his lip and it makes Mingyu groan. His hand slips down to your hip, then the small of your back, pulling you the last few inches so you’re pressed to his chest.
Nothing has ever felt this good.
Mingyu’s spent his whole life matching humans, but now to be matched himself- there’s truly nothing like it in the whole world.
He gets lost in your lips, the way you let out more whimpers. He commits your sounds to memory, his fingers gently pressing at your skin. He’s doing his best not to be overbearing, he wants you to have all the control, and yet, he hopes it’s clear how much he wants you… how much he needs you, like the air he needs to breathe. 
Luckily for Mingyu, you don’t mind taking a bit of control. With an annoyed groan, you move to straddle him, forcing Mingyu onto his back while your knees press into the couch on either side of his hips.
Your hands find his chest, and you stare down at him.
You’re so beautiful it almost hurts.
“Is this okay?” you ask.
Mingyu can hardly find his voice, but he manages to let out a choked, “Yeah.”
You lean down, pressing your lips against him again. Your tongue tastes his own, and as he’s leaning up to deepen the kiss, you pull away. Your hand finds his jaw, pushing his head to the side so you can access his throat, where you pepper his skin. You lick at sensitive spots that have him shivering, grabbing at the couch for any grip that can keep him from floating away from how good this feels. 
Mingyu knows where this is going. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, which presses up against blue denim. He can even feel the heat between your own legs, an unspoken need that’s only building with each passing second.
His heart thunders in his chest. He hates to do it, but he whispers your name, prompting you to slow down your movements.
“Yes, Gyu?”
“I need…” he swallows thickly, closing his eyes in concentration. “I need to tell you something.”
“Is now the right time?” you giggle, licking his sweet spot and making a shiver run through his entire form.
“I can’t- I can’t do this without telling you everything about myself.”
“Sounds serious.” You pull away, sitting up so you can look down at him with a frown. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m uh… really okay.” Mingyu does his best to steady his breathing, but with the view in front of him, it’s difficult. “I don’t even know how to tell you what I need to tell you.”
“Take your time,” you assure him, pressing your hand gently to his chest, palm over his heart. “I won’t judge you.”
“It’s not about judgment,” Mingyu sighs, placing his hand over your own. “I don’t know if you’ll even believe me. You’ll think I’m crazy or something.”
“Try me.”
Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I told you I’m a match maker.”
“Uh huh.”
“And that’s true- but… I didn’t tell you the extent of it.”
“The extent of it,” you repeat, and Mingyu can see you trying to figure out where he’s going with this.
“I really don’t know how to say this with you looking at me with your pretty eyes,” Mingyu groans.
“Here.” You lift your free hand, covering your face. “Is this easier?” your words are slightly muffled by your palm, and the goofiness of it immediately relaxes Mingyu.
“Actually, yes.” He can’t help but giggle, and you join in with him while he takes the moment to ground himself. “Okay so basically…” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I’m a cupid.”
“Huh?” You still have your hand over your face, but it’s clear you’ve furrowed your brows in confusion.
“Luna can verify it. She’s a real witch, which…I was honestly kind of shocked at, and I’m a cupid, so if you don’t believe me about this, I get it, I really do. Listen- I was trying to match you with someone, and I just couldn’t do it. Then a cupid I was training shot me while I was looking at you, and long story short, Luna has a connection to Venus or something and Venus thought it would be a good idea if one of her sons actually fell in love, and now here I am, and it’s a mess, but… yeah.”
You’re quiet for a long moment. Your aura flutters with mixed emotions, and it makes Mingyu’s stomach twist into knots about how you’ll react.
“Can I look at you?” you ask finally.
“Sure.”
You remove your hands from your eyes, gnawing on your lip and tilting your head while you study him. “I want to see your wings.”
“You what?”
“If you want me to believe you, I think I should see your wings. You’re a cupid, right? So you must have wings?”
Mingyu considers it a for a moment. He’s never shown a human his wings before, but he’s also never fallen in love with one either. He lets out a deep breath. “Okay, but I have to be on top to show you.”
You’re quick to agree, and after a short shuffle, Mingyu finds himself kneeling between your thighs. You’re resting on your back, propped against a pillow, and you’re watching him carefully.
“I’m gonna take my shirt off,” he warns you, grabbing at the hem of his white v-neck.
You stay quiet, eyes taking in each inch of exposed skin as Mingyu slowly strips his torso bare. 
“I should tell you… I’ve been in human form when I’m with you. But when I show you my wings- when I go full cupid, you might not be able to resist me.”
You rake your gaze across his sculpted chest, enjoying the tanned skin, pretty pectoral muscles and washboard abs. “I’ve hardly been able to resist you like this,” you muse. “Dazzle me, Mingyu. I’m ready.”
The cupid takes a deep breath. When he exhales, he lets go of the walls he’s built up. He allows his full self to come into form, his large white wings taking shape behind him. When he’s human, he kind of forgets about the wings, they’re always with him, just not always physical. Now that they’re out, he can feel the temperature of your apartment, the slight cool sensation against his sensitive feathers.
Mingyu can’t help but stretch the appendages, allowing his full wing span to protrude outward from his back.
He hears a small squeak of surprise that escapes your lips, and you sit up immediately, clearly wanting a better look at the marvelous wings.
“Are you sure you’re a cupid and not an angel?” you ask, your gaze meeting his as your fingers extend to hook in the waistline of his jeans.
“I can be anything you want me to be,” Mingyu whispers.
You lick your lips, eying his wings again. “Are they sensitive?”
“More than you can imagine.”
“Can I… Can I touch?”
Mingyu stares at you for a second. No hands but his own have ever touched his wings. Cupid wings are sacred, like their bows and arrows. Mingyu doesn’t touch his brothers’ sacred things, and they don’t touch his.
But you’re not one of his brothers.
He slowly nods. He can’t find it within himself to give you a verbal confirmation, not when he holds his breath waiting for contact.
“I’ll be gentle,” you promise. It’s almost as if you can sense his hesitancy about this- although, from the tense way Mingyu’s holding his body, he supposes it’s no secret.
As one final show of trust, Mingyu adjusts his right wing, folding it around his body so you don’t have to reach so far. He watches you close the distance between your fingers and the white feathers.
When your digits make contact, a shiver runs through him. You’re quick to pull your hand away, eyes widening. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Mingyu shakes his head, catching his breath. “I just… no one has ever touched my wings.”
“You really weren’t kidding when you said you haven’t dated a lot.”
“I’ve never dated,” Mingyu corrects the white lie from when he’d first met you. 
“Never?”
“Never,” the cupid confirms. “I’ve had… interactions with other immortals, but I never let them see my wings. You’re the first human to ever see me. Like this, and in all ways.”
Your aura beats with adoration for him, and the emotion written across your face doesn’t need to be said. 
You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips press against yours. 
Mingyu flattens a palm against the arm of your couch to steady himself, half leaning over your form while the kiss deepens. 
You trail your hand from his neck to his shoulder, moving slowly and gently, another wordless communication. 
When you touch his wing again, it’s not sudden, instead, it’s anticipated, and Mingyu can’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes him.
Your fingers glide over a feather, tracing it. When you repeat the motion, Mingyu thinks he might faint from how good it feels.
“Oh my Gods,” Mingyu whimpers, breaking the kiss to pant heavily against your neck while you trail your lips along his cheek bone.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, big guy?”
“So good,” he admits, his jeans feeling painfully tight now.
It’s as if you can read him. As if he’s a book that you’ve memorized, dog earring your favourite things. Each touch has him enthralled by you, and each touch is perfection.
You drag your free hand along his chest, moving down-
His breath catches when you cup him through his jeans.
He must be as hard as a rock, and you trace the outline of his bulge, teasing your digits along the tip.
“Please-” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting of their own accord, looking for any friction he can find while you continue to stroke his wing.
“Tell me what you need,” you encourage him, applying more pressure to his cock. 
“I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.” 
“Then taste me,” you practically purr. 
Mingyu’s had his fair share of one night stands with sirens and demi gods and other beings of the like- he knows what he’s doing as he gets off the couch and sinks to his knees. 
He grabs at you, man handling you into a position that works for him before tugging off your sweat pants.
You release a giggle, leaning back against the couch cushions while he spreads your thighs. Mingyu looks up at you, meeting your gaze as he begins to kiss up your legs, taking his time to pepper your skin.
That pretty pink aura practically blinds him as he works his way closer and closer to where you need him most. He can see a wet patch along the fabric of your panties, and he can’t help but spread your legs open even more, leaning forward to press a kiss to your clit through the silky material.
You let out a sigh of happiness as Mingyu begins to lick and prod your panty clad core. He can taste you along the fabric and it’s driving him insane. 
His fingers squeeze your thighs, and he allows you to adjust one over his shoulder- then your toes brush past the base of his wing, causing him to moan loudly. You shiver from the vibrations of it, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. 
He eats you through your panties until you’re bucking against his face- until his cock is throbbing so hard he physically can’t wait any longer. 
Hooking his fingers in the fabric, he tugs your underwear down your legs, and then he’s burying his tongue in your core.
You release a squeal of delight, tightening your grip in his hair. You pull him even closer, wrapping your legs around his head as he licks your pussy like he’s never licked anything in his entire life.
The sounds you’re making now are better than all the angel songs Mingyu’s ever heard. He could listen to you whine and moan for the rest of his life.
“Fuck, just like that, oh my God- Gyu-” 
He wraps his lips around your clit and you whimper, pussy beginning to throb in preparation for the orgasm Mingyu can’t wait to drag out of you.
Your fingers tug on his hair, and the pain only makes him go harder. He sucks hard on your sensitive bud, flicking at it and groaning at your taste.
Mingyu’s eaten fruit from the Garden of Eden. He’s eaten fairy nectar and every mystical delicacy he could get his hands on. But nothing - nothing - has ever tasted the way you do. 
He could get drunk from your pussy- in fact, he already is. 
His mind is going hazy, words are losing their meaning. It’s as animalistic as Mingyu’s ever felt, he has two goals: the first, to make you cum harder than you ever have, and the second, to do it again, but with his cock.
“I’m gonna-” you whimper, rutting against his face. “Please, don’t stop-”
Your sounds get pitchier and pitchier until you let out a gasp. Your pussy clenches around nothing while he sucks on your clit, intent on drawing out your orgasm.
You begin to squirm and he holds you down with both hands, eating you out until you’re a moaning, shaking mess. 
When your grip loosens on his hair, he pulls away, looking up at you.
You’re an absolute vision. Your chest is heaving under your shirt, your lips puffy from kissing and biting. Your eyes are closed, head thrown back, body still twitching.
Mingyu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up. He undoes his jeans, pausing for a moment before pushing them down. “Still want this?” he clarifies.
You open your eyes, looking up at him with the most fucked out expression he’s ever seen. “If you don’t fuck me, so help me God, I’ll get Luna to cast a spell on you.”
Mingyu can only laugh. “Like… a love spell?” Mingyu asks as he pushes his pants and underwear down. “Because trust me, nothing in the world could make me more into you than I already am.”
“Is that so?” you grin, pulling off your shirt to join him in nudity.
“Uh huh. Which is why I can’t fuck you on this couch.” Mingyu reaches down, scooping you up into his arms. “Which way’s the bedroom?”
“Last door on the left down the hall,” you sigh, tucking close to his chest. 
You pepper his throat in kisses the entire way to your room, where Mingyu gently sets you onto the bed.
“Do we… should we use protection?” you ask.
Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I can conjure my bow and arrow-”
You let out a laugh, your aura glimmering with amusement. “No, silly, I mean like condoms.”
“Oh…” Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Should we?”
“I mean… I’m on birth control…” you look him up and down. “Your magic cupid cock isn’t gonna outsmart the pill, is it?”
“That’s a good question.” Mingyu looks down at his rock hard length, wrapping a hand around it to relieve some of the pressure there.
“You know what? Fuck it.” You hold your arms open for him. “Just get inside of me.”
Mingyu laughs, getting onto the bed. He holds himself over you with an elbow pressed to the mattress, his free palm finding your abdomen. “I should work you open a little first,” he tells you, pressing his lips to your own. 
“I don’t mind a little pain.” You reach for his cock, stroking the precum on the tip and tracing the length of it.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mingyu admits. “Ever.”
You don’t respond, you simply kiss him deeper. Mingyu takes this as a confirmation to drag his fingers down to your core. He starts with his middle digit, teasingly pushing it in and out of your wet hole.
You pump his cock while he works you open, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him on the edge. He adds a second finger and you mewl desperately against his lips, hips rutting to match his pace.
You’re practically drenching his hand. At this point, he knows you could take him- he just wants to see how much you’ll allow before your beg for it. 
Mingyu loves playing with you like this. He enjoys the act of love making, and he’s in no rush- although, his cock is starting to be something near painful with the amount of blood that has him standing at attention.
“Gyu…” you whimper, pumping him even harder. 
It’s clear you’re about to beg- but he can’t stand to actually have you do it. He gives in immediately, pulling his fingers from your core. He brushes your hand away from his length, lining himself up with your pussy.
Mingyu presses his lips to yours as he pushes inside, moving slowly so you can adjust to inch after inch of his girthy cock.
You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, gently digging your nails into his skin. No matter how hard you try, Mingyu doubts you could actually draw blood, and what might be painful to a human is nothing more than an annoying tingle, but it’s hardly a distraction from the feeling of your pussy swollowing him up.
He can’t help the groans that leave him as he kisses you, finally flush with your body. Your walls throb around him, adjusting to the intrusion. 
“Mingyu,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Please-”
He begins slowly. Mingyu’s not sure how fragile humans truly are, and he doesn’t want to fuck you so hard that your back breaks. Instead, he takes his time, adding more and more speed and power. He notes your reactions, notes what makes you squeal.
When he’s satisfied with a particular whimper, he stays doing what motion had earned the sound. The whole bed is rocking from his thrusts, and you’ve turned into a moaning mess for him again- but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Shit, you’re so good-” you gasp, breaking the kiss to lick at his throat, circling his sweet spot while he fucks you into the mattress.
Mingyu can’t help himself, he grabs one of your hands, lacing your fingers as he fucks you. There’s something intimate about the hand holding- and when he looks up, he realizes it’s the hands that have red strings on their wrists. 
However, as he fucks you even faster, he notices the strings aren’t simply their own bracelets anymore- they’re somehow intertwined. 
Mingyu can’t bring himself to think about it too hard, not when your wriggling under him, your wet pussy engulfing him with each thrust-
Your free hand reaches around his back, fingers brushing over a feather, and Mingyu almost cums right then and there.
“Fuck-” he whimpers. “If you do that again, I’m gonna-”
“Cum with me,” you whisper. “Please, I’m so close- if you fill me up, I just know I’ll get there.” 
You stroke another feather and Mingyu’s entire body twitches, his muscles tensing with pleasure. 
“Please, Mingyu!”
You’re on the verge of tears, and when Mingyu looks down at you, he’s completely overtaken by how much you’re glowing. He’s never seen a human aura glow like yours- and now, you look absolutely godly beneath him.
One more stroke of his feathers has Mingyu groaning loudly. He buries his face in your neck, squeezing your hand as he pushes his cock as deep inside of you as it can go. He can feel each heavy beat of his heart as he fills you with rope upon rope of cum-
Your pussy clenches tightly around him, and from the way you’re moaning in his ear, he knows you’ve reached your high too.
All you can do is hold each other, breathing each other in while you get lost in a pleasure that could never be topped. 
He’s in love with you, body and soul.
Mingyu’s not sure how long he cums, all he knows is that he’s practically spent as he comes down from the high. He’s breathing heavily, you both are, and he stays on top of you while you ground yourselves again.
You begin to stroke the back of his neck, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to put some distance between your chests so he can get a good look at you.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Better than okay,” you muse with a lazy grin. “And Gyu?”
“Yeah?”
“As crazy as this is… I love you too.”
It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize what you’re saying, because he hasn’t directly said those words- and yet, he’d betrayed himself multiple times without even realizing it. He’d mentioned getting shot with an arrow, Venus wanting a son to fall in love. He’d even said that no love potion could make his feelings stronger than they already are. 
Mingyu had been so lost in you that he hadn’t even known that all of his walls had come crumbling down. 
There’s no secret he’ll ever be able to keep from you, and that’s clear now.
But there’s no secret he’d ever want to keep from you.
You’re his other half. His pink aura baby. And staring down at you in the aftermaths of the best sex of his life, Mingyu knows that whatever happens, you’ll be his soulmate till the day he ceases to exist.
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Nine - the note
Hi, gorgeous. I’m sorry you have to wake up alone. Duty calls. I’ve got council meetings this morning that I can’t miss. But we’re connected now. One tug on your red string and I’ll know you’re trying to connect. There’s no where in your world or mine that I could go where you can’t reach me. I love you. I’m here for the long run. If you want, I can see you tonight. Give the string three tugs anytime after noon, and I’ll be there faster than you can even imagine.
Hugs & kisses
Love,
Cupid
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! Happy (belated) Valentine's Day to all us Gyu obsessed hotties
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. You’re practically drooling as Mingyu shrugs the fabric off of his body, revealing a form that was literally sculpted by the Gods. You could stare at him forever and never get bored. He’s the sexiest person you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, earning a loud groan, you know that he’s all yours.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu loves pussy, oral (m/f receiving), big dick Mingyu, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, deep throating, face fucking, touching cupid wings as a sexual stimulus, female masturbation while giving a blow job, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, etc…   I petnames. (hers) gorgeous. (his) big guy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 150
🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
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bonus
It’s Valentine’s Day and you wake up alone, and yet, you don’t really mind.
In the few months you’ve been dating your Cupid, he’s stepped up his game when it comes to checking in on the matches he’s made. As he’s become closer with Luna, and heard her failed love story, Mingyu’s been increasingly diligent on all things human relations.
He’s left a note for you on your pillow, as he does every morning he has to work instead of waking up with you. 
You read it with a smile, enjoying all the hearts he’s drawn across the lined paper. 
You don’t mind spending the first part of your Valentine’s Day alone. Three rough tugs on the string around your wrist would draw your lover back, but you figure his job is important today of all days.
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general taglist
@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling
@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 
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@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy
@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono
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svt taglist:
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@joonsneptune - @candidupped - @cheolussy
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2K notes · View notes
lujingheswife · 6 months
Text
eyes of silver and gold
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soulmate au! everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural colour the other is your soulmate’s natural colour. once you meet eye contact, all eyes return to its natural colour.
featuring: neuvillette
word count: 1075
cw: soulmate!au, reader is a liyue adeptus, gn!reader, reader’s eyes are GOLD because GOLD, traveler can be lumine or aether (they/them pronouns), intentional lowercase, not proofread
author’s notes: super duper rushed IM SORRY,,,, this could be written better but yeah 😭😭 i’ll do better next time !!! (i love soulmate aus)
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
neuvillette blinked at the reflection of himself on the mirror for the nth time. it was not the first time he had done so, but every time he observed the eyes of the citizens of fontaine it made him question what made his soulmate so special.
because one thing for sure, he was almost certain his soulmate was not human.
the chief justice knew the eyes of a human when he sees one. their round iris, and the common eye colours of brown or blue could easily tell that they’re merely human.
however, his soulmate’s eye replacing his left one did not look like the eyes of a human. it was an unnatural colour, usually similar to the eye colours of those who wield a vision. what caught his attention though, was the pattern of his soulmate’s eye that stood out amongst the others. like how his eyes are of a dragon’s, and lady furina’s eyes are of dewdrops, his soulmate’s eye, igniting a warm colour, shouted gold.
the first thing he had in mind was the land of gold where the geo element usurper resided. he knew liyue was a land of the adepti, where many immortals who once battled in the archon war still lived in the mountains of amber.
yet for centuries living as the hydro dragon, he had never once encountered his soulmate.
was it because of the distance between them? it was understandable, after all, for an adeptus to remain loyal to their homeland.
he had visited liyue a few times but failed to find this soulmate of his. maybe they were not residing in liyue after all?
neuvillette chose to let fate decide.
he heaved a small sigh as he turned away from the mirror, back to his office desk to continue checking the documents for the next trial.
“monsieur neuvillette!” a loud, squeaky voice which he knew belonged to a certain floating alien chimed through the door. he watched as surprisingly, only paimon, flew her way into his office with an excited expression.
he blinked confusedly at her unusual demeanour. “miss paimon,” he called, “how may i assist you today?”
he allowed her to take her time as she panted heavily. “your—“ she looked up at him and he swore he saw her eyes sparkling a lot brighter than usual. “my?” he asked.
“soulmate! we found your soulmate!! they’re outside!” paimon exclaimed excitedly.
neuvillette’s world stopped for a millisecond, for he had not known that his soulmate had just traveled kilometres from the southern liyue to the northern fontaine. he did not realize his legs moved on his own, allowing paimon to drag him by the sleeve towards the outside of the opera house.
“monsieur?” he heard paimon called before snapping himself out of his thoughts. he noticed her looking at him in concern, realizing he had stopped his tracks right by the door. “are you okay?” she asked.
is he okay? he wondered the same.
he felt an uncomfortable feeling in his chest, as if someone— or something, was banging the drums inside. he felt the drums getting louder and faster, and he could not feel his legs anymore.
he inhaled sharply. “i’m perfectly fine, miss paimon,” he paused in between, “well, let’s meet my… soulmate, shall we?”
his gaze turned towards the entrance of the door, sensing the melusine looking at him eagerly as she patiently waited for him to get ready. “monsieur neuvillette! are you going out?” she asked.
he nodded. “yes, i am. thank you very much.”
the melusine by the door clapped her hands excitedly as she immediately skipped towards the door knob before opening it for him. “well then, enjoy meeting them, monsieur!”
neuvillette watched the door opens before the light outside instantly came greeting him in an embrace.
and the first thing that entered his vision was a pair of heterochromatic eyes that matches his.
you were there with the traveler, dressed in foreign attire not befitting of fontaine. your vision clinging onto your waist like a proud medal. you were by the entrance, surrounded by melusines who were saying how your eyes match their chief justice. he watched how your confused expression tries to have a conversation with the little melusines while the traveler laughed next to you.
the cute moment did not last when the melusines notice the presence of their chief justice, immediately rushing towards him excitedly wanting to ask him about his soulmate. yet his widened eyes had locked with yours, watching your eye adorned with his blueish-purple colour slowly changing back to gold— the familiar gold that greeted him every morning in front of the mirror.
“monsieur neuvillette! your eyes!” he heard a melusine exclaimed, their hands holding his sleeve as they jumped happily.
he blinked confusedly at the tugs of his sleeves when a melusine appeared with a mirror in their hands. they showed a reflection of himself where his eyes were back to his original form— the mixture of silver, blue and purple.
he averted his attention to his soulmate who seemed to be doing the same. you were looking at your own reflection, realizing your eye has reverted to its original form. he watched your surprised expression until you noticed his attention had diverted towards you.
your flushed expressions felt a little foreign to the iudex of fontaine, but he was certainly relieved at the sight of your comfortable state in a foreign region.
he gave you a sincere smile as he placed a hand over his chest as a form of greeting.
“greetings. i’m neuvilette, chief justice and iudex of fontaine. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
since birth, neuvillette never understood the concept of soulmates until he was given a chance to experience such phenomenon. from when he had awoken to a change in his appearance to encountering the partner that was given to him by fate, it was a surprise that a being like him could have one too.
in fact, his own soulmate was not mortal either. an adeptus originating from the land of gold, you began your exploration in the continent with the fellow traveler when they could not stop persuading you to follow them to meet someone.
a smile was formed on your lips in return as you introduced your name to him, which sounded nice to his ears. “and it’s a pleasure to meet you too, mister neuvillette.”
maybe he could give this concept a try.
_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
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lady-ashfade · 3 months
Note
soulmate au with percy and reader. i was thinking like reader is like a complete nobody at camp and the daughter of some not really known god. percy and reader meet by accident and they figure out they are soulmates. percy at first didn’t want anything to do with it because he had feelings for annabeth but comes around.
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Percy Jackson x Fem!reader. (Soulmate au)
-£ Pictured a older version of book Percy, but imagine them staying a camp or coming late.
-£ words: 1.5 words
-£ warnings: Angst, rejection, jealousy, I love annabeth, percy being mean? Idk. Anyway kinda short. What can I say, I love a man with dark hair who has sass?🤷‍♀️
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“Do you ever wonder who you’re soulmates is?” percy sat on the log near the cliff looking over the sunset. annabeth keeping her eyes on the forest below, smiling softly as the orange sun hit her skin.
“I’m not worried about it, they will come to me when the time is right.” she replied with a calm voice.
percy could help himself from looking down at her hand and slowly inching his hand near hers. the marking was just late. he knew that she was his soulmate. how could she not be after everything they went through? besides no one knew him like she did.
fate is a funny thing.
because the person who was chosen to be his, and his alone wasn’t the girl he sat next to. it was you. you barely had any contact with percy. never even spiking a word to each other and yet the world still twined you together.
looking back on it he wished he reacted in a nicer way then he did. anything other then what he did, even faint.
he was running a pile of arrows to the archery training ground when he ran into you. as soon as your eyes met the world was slow for just a second and colors shined brighter then they did. in that moment you both felt something that was more then the gods. something even the gods can’t touch.
“woah,” you whisper with your hands still held onto the arrows he was trying to give to you. his hands didn’t stop clinching onto the wood, he couldn’t believe it.
you blink at him for him to do something other then stand there and stare with a open mouth. sure this type of thing wasn’t normal but he didn’t even move a inch.
but you wished he had stayed quiet, “Look, I um..” he let go of the things you two shared and took a step back with hasted.
“I have to run.” you watched him run off like there was nothing important to keep him here.
At first you thought that he was just shy, in shock, and didn’t know what to say. but you soon figured out he wanted nothing to do with you. you followed him around and tried to talk to him at every chance you got but he would always slip from your fingers.
cornering him in the woods at night wasn’t the best idea but you had but there was not other choice. it didn’t feel good to have your soulmate avoid you.
“There is a mistake.” his voice echoed through the woods, “I feel nothing for you. I am sure you are amazing, but you are not my soulmate.”
he watched the tears pool into your eyes like the waves he controlled. taking a step back from the news from his lips that crushed your soul. “I am in love with another.”
Licking your lips you roll your eyes to try and stop the tears forming. “it’s annabeth isn’t it?” he couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. the silence he gave when he opened his mouth but nothing came out told you everything you needed to know.
“I do hope you live a happy life,” you walked closer to him only inches away, “especially when she finds her soulmate.” you walked past him and down the dirt path back to your cabin where you broke down.
fate was twisted and cruel for giving you him.
day and night you thought about him. and day and night you got worse. everyone could see the toll of being rejected but no one new by who. not a soul knew about you and percy and you honestly liked it that way. no pity glances when they hung out together. 
soulmate depression was a serious thing and could lead one down to a never reversible illness. your eyes lost their light, no one ever saw you smile, looking as dead like as possible. every positive feeling in your body was drained out.
annabeth looked over at you at diner time as you stared at the plate in front of you, sitting at the edge of the bench. “It’s terrible,” she said and picked at her food with a fork. “I hope they come around.”
the trio stared at you in pity, one of them feeling guilt. “It’s a really bad case, I feel so bad.” Grover looked sad as he almost cried himself. love was supposed to be for real, that’s what soulmates were for! If he had one he would never let them get like that.
Percy found himself studying the girl. Her hair messy, her face grime and eyes blank and darker then the last time he looked in them. And Percy was the cause.
“Yeah,” the black hairy boy turned and poked at his food.
It has been week since then and a weight sunk in his stomach when he thought of you, which was almost every moment now. He thought about how you would smile before and how he wanted to see that again. He really thought he liked annabeth but each day that feeling went away.
Maybe he could think things over. But how could he apologize? Would you still want him?
But as Percy thought over the war in his head you moved on. Or as much as you could. there was a sickness in your body but you tried to fight it and spent time with your friends.
one boy took you in quickly. the two of you now glued at the hip and he was the only one who seemed to make you smile now.
“Dude,” Grover knocked his shoulder with his own, “What did he do to you?”
The son of Poseidon darted his eyes lowly at some boy. The way you smiled ever so sweetly like he has been wishing to see for weeks but this- This guy could cause it easily. And those small laughed he could hear so faintly in his ears.
“Nothing.” Percy stated while still glaring at the guy heavily.
the satyr nodded but lingered his eyes on his friend for a few seconds. clearly not believing him one bit.
“I have to tell you something,” he pulled his eyes away from you and to his friend. Guilt covering his face. “You know how y/n got reflected by her soulmate?” his voice shaky.
“Of course, it was hard to watch.” He answered. It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots when Percy lifted his brows as a sign. Grover gasped loudly.
“You did- Oh my god’s. How could you?” His mouth was then covered by Percy as he shh’d him.
Percy took a big breath as he held his hand over his mouth, “I’m not proud of it. It was just, I didn’t feel like we could be. I thought me and annabeth were soulmates until they came along,” he turned his eyes back to your direction to find you laughing slightly with your friends.
“I was terribly wrong.”
As much as Grover was mad at his friend he could see the guilt and regret on his face. He helped him come up with a plan, and gave him a very long lecture about love. Annabeth found out, and cursed him out. Saying that the marks don’t lie and was overly upset he could do that for her.
it took a week of long work for him to build up the courage to finally talk to you.
lucky he knew exactly where you would be. in the same stop he saw you for the first time as his soulmate. In the training grounds. You had been walking back to your cabin looking as beautiful as always even with your gloomy change.
you had a basket in your hand. you hummed quietly and kept your eyes on the dirt path underneath your feet. you were too out of it to hear him walking from behind you. “Y/n.” He called your name.
turning around startled you are met with him smiling at you. the boy who broke your heart standing there with a warm smile on his face as if he didn’t do anything wrong.
“Percy.” You whisper and step back. “I um…Do you need something?” you were shaking almost.
He got closer slowly as he got more awkward by the second, “can we talk?” you were hesitant to expect his offer but you nodded.
“I want to apologize for rejecting you. I felt horrible watching you- Well, get like this.” He kept getting closer and you didn’t know if you should run away or scream at him.
“I was wrong. You are the girl for me.” He saw the tears flood in the corner of your eyes and your lips tremble
“you think that’s enough?” you didn’t yell but he could sense the harsh tone in your voice. And you have that right.
“No, not really.” his frowns. Knowing he needed to do more.
“But I’m willing to work as hard as I need to. If you will have me?”
His green eyes filled with sorrow. the feeling to leave him here, with nothing like he did to you. But you couldn’t. You felt better in his presence as he looked at you.
“I’ll allow it, but we take this slow.” All he could do was smile again and nod his head in understanding.
even if you didn’t trust him. he healed your heart in the matter of seconds.
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Text
Honey Girl. Chapter Two.
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Chapter One. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.
Warnings - smut. cursing.
Word Count - 4k
Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!
Masterlist. Inbox.
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Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.
You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.
You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.
That's when it hits you.
Bucky.
The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.
Your Tethering.
To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.
His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.
You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.
"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.
"Good morning, Buck."
You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.
"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."
He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.
"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"
"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"
"Perfect. See you then."
"See you then."
It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.
There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Bucky arrives at 8:45.
You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.
You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.
Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.
You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.
He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.
"Hi," you whisper.
"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"
"I'm okay. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."
"I think that sounds perfect."
He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You know nothing about sailing.
Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.
You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.
"Creep," you tease.
"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.
He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.
"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"
"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."
You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.
"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."
You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.
"What?" you laugh.
"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."
"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.
He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.
"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."
"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.
"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."
"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.
He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.
"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.
"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."
"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."
"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."
He thinks for a moment.
"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"
He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.
"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."
Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.
"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."
"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."
"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.
The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.
You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.
He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.
"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.
"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."
"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.
"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."
"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.
"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."
Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.
"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.
"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.
"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."
"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."
You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.
"I don't know where to start," you whisper.
"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.
"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."
He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.
"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."
"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."
"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."
"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."
"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"
He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.
"Trust me, sugar, you're different."
Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.
Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.
Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.
Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.
He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.
He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.
You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.
"Bucky," you whine. "Please."
He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.
"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."
"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."
"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.
"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."
"My apologies, ma'am."
He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.
"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.
He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.
He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.
"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.
You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.
He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.
"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."
He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.
"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.
"I know, pretty baby. I know."
His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.
"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."
His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.
Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.
"You okay, sugar?"
You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.
"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."
He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.
"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."
He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.
"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.
He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.
"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."
"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."
You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.
"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"
"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."
You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.
He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.
The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.
The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.
Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.
"You should go. Eat something."
"I know. I just... I like being with you."
He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.
"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.
You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.
"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."
"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.
"One step at a time."
"All the time in the world," he echoes.
"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.
"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.
He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.
You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.
"Stella? Hey - you okay?"
"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"
"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."
"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."
"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."
"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."
"Ask away, Stell."
"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."
"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.
"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."
You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.
"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"
"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."
"I... I don't even know what to say."
"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.
"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"
You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.
"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"
"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."
"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."
"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"
You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.
"Wait... what? Where?"
"In California. The café is here, in California!"
You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.
There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.
Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.
You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.
Bucky or your dreams.
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sagaduwyrm · 5 months
Text
DCxDP Idea - Tucker x Tim Soulmate AU:
Now on AO3
So the Justice League believes the Fentons and the GIW. Not completely, but enough. That’s the bad news. The worse news is that they have Danny, and are apparently planning to use him in some kind of spell to banish all the ghosts from the living plane. Which, okay, sure, not the worst idea, except that trying to banish a Liminal is a great way to kill them instead, and guess what everyone in Amity Park is? Not to mention what powering such a ritual could do to Danny.
Tucker is not having a panic attack. He might have one later, but right now he has a job to do.
So the thing about the Justice League is that they’re powerful and together they cover each other’s weaknesses, but individually they are, if not manageable, then at least survivable. They can’t take on the entire league, but Ghosts and their ilk have fangs for a reason, and every predator knows how to divide and conquer.
Technus and Skulker are using Lex Luthor’s tech to deal with the Supers. Jazz has got emotional manipulation and FrightKnight’s sword to take down the Flashes. Desiree agreed to start a mage’s duel with the Justice League Dark. Sam, Ember, Johnny, and Kitty hopefully have the watchtower in hand, with Walker playing backup to get Danny free.
Tucker has two jobs. One, work with Technus to take down the Justice League communications without making it look like anything is up. Two, for the love of the Ancients, do not let the Bats realize something is wrong.
And you know what? He’s got this. Duul Aman was the most feared sorcerer of his time. Tucker isn’t him, not really, but he’s no slouch in the magic department. Egyptian magic, the way Duul Aman knew it, was almost like code. Relearning it was as easy as breathing, but the real reason Tucker’s job is to deal with the bats is because he took it further than his last life ever could. Sure, he’s a dab hand at illusions, his curses are almost as nasty as Sam’s, and instant sandstorms are never not useful, but where he really thrives is with tech. Afterall, if ectoplasm can be combined with computers, why can’t magic?
Tucker is the world's first technomage and he’s goddamn proud of it.
It’s his saving grace now. Infiltrating Oracle’s system took weeks, and he still wasn’t able to look at or do anything important, but it was enough of an opening for his magic. He wormed his illusion through every single piece of bat-tech he could reach, whispering in their ear, Gotham needs you. The Justice League is fine. Gotham is where the problems are. 
Weeks of work and sleepless nights, and he still doubts he’ll be able to keep them from noticing anything for more than a few hours. Luckily, by that time Danny will be free and Tucker will be long gone from Gotham.
This confidence lasts until he brushes hands with another guy in the cafe. He can feel the bond snap into place, a soulmark crawling across his body. Tim Drake stares at him, eyes wide but sharp. 
Tim Drake.
Red Robin.
Shit.
Time to see whether fighting ghosts extends to fighting humans, because he is not letting this asshole mess up Danny’s rescue.
+++
The first thing Tim notices when he meets his soulmate is the rage in the man’s eyes.
They’re really pretty eyes. A bright, glowing gold, lined in kohl. Almost certainly a sign of magic. 
They look at him like the man wants to turn him inside out and burn the remains. Tim’s a little offended, beneath the shock and awe.
“Fuck,” the man hisses. Tim’s offense is starting to supersede his surprise. He’s a catch, thank you very much.
He says as much. The man laughs, and it’s almost friendly.  The cafe is empty. The people of Gotham have good instincts, and there’s something in the air around this man that puts Tim’s hackles up.
“You know, I think that’d be more believable if you hadn’t started this.”
Tim’s brow wrinkled. He felt like he’d remember starting something with his soulmate though? What was he supposed to have started, anyway? Saying ‘this’ wasn’t very specific. 
He rolled and dodged to avoid the sudden lash of golden sand. Ah. A fight. He could do that. Figure out why his soulmate was angry later, defeat him now.
He reached up to call for backup and only got static.
Shit.
He was on his own. Time to show this bastard why underestimating a bat was a bad idea.
1K notes · View notes
miraclewoozi · 3 months
Text
DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs
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the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it. 
pairing ; vernon x gn!reader.  content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3
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“What was your first kiss like?”
Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song. 
All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong. 
But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.
“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”
You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”
“Oh.” 
He was right. 
“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”
He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all. 
“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”
You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say. 
“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position. 
“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air. 
You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”
He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done. 
Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal. 
Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present. 
“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”
You snort. 
“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you. 
He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?
“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember. 
You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”
“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.  
He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter. 
You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again. 
He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary. 
The urge to just… lean in to you. 
It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—
Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—
“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees. 
True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.
But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?
“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again. 
“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.
“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”
“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”
He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly. 
Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.
“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop. 
It’s… devastatingly cute.
“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.
“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”
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It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday. 
He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare. 
Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once. 
He swears. 
“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”
Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)
“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”
His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure. 
“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting. 
“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway. 
You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t. 
Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.
And yet—
“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances. 
Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.
You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise. 
When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that. 
His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come. 
Eight seconds later… still nothing. 
“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”
“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”
It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light. 
“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”
It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”
“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”
You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug. 
His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again. 
You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?” 
“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”
“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue. 
“That was one time!”
“One time too many.”
“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“
You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before. 
He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.
“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”
“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”
He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip. 
“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter. 
“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”
You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh. 
Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair. 
He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop. 
Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders. 
Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help. 
“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place. 
“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”
When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head. 
“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…
He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”
“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?
He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in. 
I love them. Thank you, you said. 
It’s perfect. 
He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.
“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”
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Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double. 
He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.
“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.
“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead. 
“I don’t know-…”
“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”
Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”
Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.
Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue. 
On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.
“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”
Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose. 
“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.
But… It's too late. 
Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to. 
And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are. 
Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob. 
Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum. 
But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him. 
Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen. 
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It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door. 
Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important. 
You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.
When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair. 
You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath. 
“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright. 
“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”
“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”
He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened. 
“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head. 
His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop. 
“He what?”
Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together. 
He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said. 
I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)
So… you were in love. 
With someone who wasn’t him. 
He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt.  And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.
Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.
“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”
You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”
Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before. 
“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”
Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.
“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”
Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?
He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder. 
“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”
You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”
You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it. 
“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”
He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush. 
“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head. 
“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth. 
It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you. 
He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too. 
“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”
With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure. 
“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together. 
Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try. 
But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could. 
“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down. 
He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better. 
When you bumped your head in the playground, the same. 
He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved. 
And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person. 
“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”
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He’s so proud of you.
Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say. 
[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]
Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here. 
He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no. 
[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]
[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]
So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.
With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline. 
Not enough, but some. 
With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin. 
7. 6. 5.
The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky. 
Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?
4. 3.
Maybe I don’t need to see in colour. 
2.
For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough. 
1.
Happy New Year. 
As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes. 
For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you. 
You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”
“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow… 
Like you’re searching for something that might not be there. 
He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you. 
You could do it, his brain tells him. 
So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter? 
But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside. 
One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.
He’s happy, though. It’s like you said. 
Being in love is enough.
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“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in. 
He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”
In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule. 
His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all. 
But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday. 
To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you. 
You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change. 
This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. 
The pouting continued. 
Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table. 
All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right? 
He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling. 
“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together. 
“This way.”
You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features. 
“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”
You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road. 
“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.
“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess, 
He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks. 
You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer. 
“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”
“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks. 
“Close your eyes.”
You know.
Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick. 
“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.
“You really think so?”
“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”
Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?
He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone. 
“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.
“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”
“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”
Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.
It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own. 
He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block. 
Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…
“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths. 
“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.
One. 
You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…
There it all is, when you finally pull away.
Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too. 
“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”
A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again. 
“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”
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thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3
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hyunjinspark · 2 months
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star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 19
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pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader
genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers
synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 
word count: 40K (yeah....i promise it doesn't feel like that much!)
warnings: cursing, lots of casual drinking, mature content, angst, mutual pining, a shit ton of sexual tension, slight jealousy, making out, kissing, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, reference to depression, some self-blaming, whipped! hyunjin, a lot of fluff
a/n: this is definitely one of my favourite chapters, and ends with an arc I've been looking forward to for a while. it's a very hyunyn centric chapter, which is why i love it. i honestly could have worked on this chapter forever, because there's so much i wanted to include, and i hope you like the finished product. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read, and some light music to match. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!
important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.
masterlist
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The snowflakes had settled on his coat, melting slowly in the warmth of the apartment, battling the cold from the outside where he’d left the door open. His eyes were filled with confusion, gaze moving from you to the duffel bag in your hands. The wheels clicked in his head, and oh, to know what went through Hyunjin’s mind when he put two and two together. You would kill to know how his mind worked, especially right now. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you said, “What are you doing here, Hyunjin?”
His brows furrowed as some kind of epiphany sank in, “Are you going somewhere?”
It wasn’t an answer to your question, and you had no energy to justify yourself right now, “That doesn’t concern you.”
“What do you mean?” He took a step up tentatively like if he stepped too close, you’d run away. But you were, weren’t you? You were running away. You didn’t want to talk to him, not when all of your latest conversations with Hyunjin had ended in heartbreak. You had made up your mind, and you were going home. He obviously didn’t want you in your life, as he’d explicitly stated every time. So why the fuck was he at your doorstep?
You looked him in the eye, a bubbling anticipation rising within you at his possible reaction. He obviously wouldn’t care though, would he? He wanted you gone too. You swallowed, speaking clearly so he wouldn’t misunderstand, “I’m leaving, Hyunjin.”
“What?” A flash of confusion crippled his features. Just then, Jeongin’s voice carried through the stairwell, and you heard his footsteps as he ran up the stairs, yelling, “The taxi’s here! I already put your suitcases in the trunk.”
Hyunjin frowned, “Your suitcases? What is he talking about?”
Helpless, you stared at him. You had no clue how to explain this to him because it would mean admitting that you were wrong about everything. About moving here, about the classes, about Jieong… You weren’t going to be weak in front of him. His cheeks were red, courtesy of the quickly developing storm outside. It just meant you needed to get out of here as soon as possible, you couldn’t wait around for your train to get delayed because of the increment weather. It was fitting, because the snowstorm matched you. You tightened the grip on your bag, taking a step ahead, and your voice didn’t waver as you said, “It means that I’m going home, Hyunjin. To Daejon.”
“I’m sorry…what?” His eyes widened. You stepped closer, lugging your bag with you, “You heard me…” Finally, you came eye-to-eye with him in the middle of the staircase, “I never should have come here. It was my mistake. So you don’t have to worry about me being in your life anymore, and since you’re probably never coming back to Daejon then….” You swallowed, staring at him, and suddenly it was harder to speak the following few words, “Then… I guess this is goodbye, Hyunjin.”
He blinked at you, voice raising in his prolonged disbelief, “Wait…What are you talking about? What do you mean, you’re going home?”
You had no clue how to explain this to him, you suppose it was out of nowhere…but what did he expect? Right at that moment, Jeongin finally caught up to you on the sixth floor, and he stopped to catch his breath, hands on his knees, panting, “I have no idea why I just ran up all those stairs.” He straightened up, finally noticing Hyunjin, “How did you get into the building?”
Hyunjin looked back at him as if this was the last of his problems, stating bluntly, “I pushed open the door. It wasn’t locked.”
“That doesn’t mean you can just come into a stranger’s building, what the hell, dude” It should have been expected that Jeongin, obviously was unaware of and possibly didn’t give a fuck about idols. In any other circumstance, you might have found it funny. Hyunjin frowned at him, “I’m not a stranger. She knows me.”
You sighed, “Jeongin, I’ll be down in a minute. Thank you for getting the taxi.” Jeongin was still suspiciously glaring at him, then looked at you, face immediately relaxing, “Okay. The drivers really hate waiting, so I suggest you go soon, Y/N.”
Your decision was suddenly settling in and becoming more real. You gave him a nod, “Right. I’ll get going then.”
You stepped past Hyunjin, brushing his shoulder, and a part of you was satisfied that he didn’t have as big of an effect on you as he used to. You didn’t stop dead in your tracks because of him. You’d decided what you would do, and nothing Hyunjin could say would change your mind. It seemed like he was still catching up to this new information you’d dumped on him. His face was in disbelief as you passed him, and you hurriedly descended the stairwell. If you stopped to think about this decision, you might regret it, or you might cry, and you weren’t going to let either happen. The front door was in sight, and chills ran up your skin the closer you got. Your head was pounding with the weight of this hurried decision. You won’t regret this. You couldn’t. Daejon was your home, and you needed to be there.
Through the fog of your thoughts, you heard Hyunjin call your name. At first, your name sounded like a realization, and then it was more in desperation. The taxi waiting for you honked loudly, and you paused at the front door. Hyunjin’s footsteps were loud in the atrium, and he was running down the stairwell. He was running to catch up to you. It was a stupidly dangerous thing to do. He could fall or trip. That was the only reason you stopped, turning around in frustration, “What are you doing? You could get hurt.”
He gripped the rusty railing, and his coat flew behind him as he caught up to you, breathless, “What’s going on? Can you please just tell me?”
“It’s stupid to run down the stairs. What were you even thinking?” You frowned, heart calming down at seeing that he was okay.
“I’m not thinking.” His teeth grit together, and he was still breathing heavily, voice hoarse, “I don’t understand. Can you just please talk to me?”
“What part?” A sorry laugh escaped you, “I told you. I’m going back home. That’s it. There’s nothing more to tell. Goodbye, Hyunjin.”
He reached out, grabbing your arm to stop you, “No, but why?”
You weren’t going to tell him about what happened. Of course not. “I don’t know Hyunjin. There’s nothing in the city for me to stay for. Why are you even here? I thought you said you couldn’t be a part of my life.”
Hurt flashed across his face, which you couldn’t even comprehend. How could he be hurt right now after he’d pushed you out this whole time? You’d been in the same city as him for months, yet he never reached out to you, or apologized. He couldn’t just suddenly want something else when it was convenient for him. 
“But…what about the classes? What about Kim Jieong? He wouldn’t want you to leave.” He knew nothing about your time in the classes, he had no right to question you now. You squeezed your eyes shut, and all the emotions you suppressed came up. Just then, the taxi honked again, and the phone in your pocket started buzzing too. You looked at the caller ID. Felix was calling and you picked up, eyes on Hyunjin’s briefly, “Yes, Lix?”
“Have you left for the train station yet, love?” He was concerned, so full of care for you. Your heart softened, and your voice dropped as you held the phone tightly to your ear, “No, I’m on my way. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”
“It’s getting late. I’m worried about you.” He spoke. Hyunjin was staring at you as you took the phone call. Your gaze briefly flickered over him. Even now, after running down the stairs and walking through a freaking snowstorm, he looked like some kind of angel. There was snow all over his coat and his hair. His nose and cheeks were dark pink, and his lips were still bitten raw. “Don’t be worried. I’ll be home soon,” You mumbled, calming Felix’s tendency to worry about you. Felix had an unspoken excitement in his tone, “Okay. Love you. See you soon.”
You swallowed, highly aware of the man in front of you, “Love you too.” It’s as if those words changed the atmosphere. Hyunjin’s tense shoulders dropped as if resigning to a chosen fate. When you hung up, pushing the phone into your pocket, Hyunjin spoke, “So you’re just leaving? That’s it?”
“Yeah. What would you want me to do? Say goodbye? Maybe I would have, if I still had any way of contacting you,” You said. A taunt and petty jab, sure, but it was also the truth. Hyunjin wasn’t there when you needed him, so why was he here now?
He closed his eyes in regret. He couldn’t argue that. He knew it was the truth. After all, you two were practically strangers right now. You didn’t know what was going on in his life. You didn’t have any of his information. Yet he was here, in your apartment building. Curiosity tickled you, and you tilt your head, “Why did you even come here tonight, Hyunjin? Did something happen?”
His eyes pierced through yours, “I… wanted to talk to you. I would have come before, but… I’ve been traveling all month, I couldn’t help it”
“Right. Japan. Must have been nice.” 
You were aware you sounded like a bitch, but that was the only way you could distance yourself, so leaving him behind would hurt less. Except that would only work if he let you leave. He grabbed your arm again, pulling you close, “Y/N… what’s going on? Please…tell me what’s wrong.”
His eyes seemed so sincere. He seemed so sincere. And concerned for you. Your heart squeezed in worry. He must be so confused. If you really wanted to hurt him, you would leave right now with no explanation. It would show him how you felt, how it felt to be on the other side of things, to be cut off like this. But you weren’t him, so you’d at least try to offer an explanation.
“Hyunjin…” Before you could continue, the cab outside honked twice impatiently, and you realized all your suitcases were in the trunk. If the driver got pissed and drove off, your stuff would be gone too. Not that there was anything you still cared for in it. But you panicked, “Fuck…I would like to explain, but I don’t have the time. He’ll leave, and all my stuff’s with him. I’m sorry, you’re too late, Hyunjin.”
His face dropped into despair and that was all you had time to register before you turned away, walking out the door. The taxi was parked right outside with the engine running to preserve warmth. The apology was already on your lips, “I’m sorry sir. I got held up.”
The driver looked pissed as hell, and he glanced at you from his window, “You’re heading to the station? Because it seems like you’re wasting my time.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” 
He rolled his eyes, slurring words, “Either get in, or take your shit and get out”
“Don’t talk to her like that.” 
Oh god. 
Hyunjin had followed you out, obviously having overheard this. You turned to him, “I got this, okay? You don’t need to—”
“Dude, I have other customers too!” The guy yelled at him, clearly pissed by how Hyunjin talked back, “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
Hyunjin was staring at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance. You didn’t know how he’d react. You’d never seen this side of him, and you reached out to him, “Hyunjin, whatever you’re thinking of doing, please don’t”
He bypassed you, stepping up to the guy, leaning in to rest on the driver’s side window, “How much?”
“What?” The guy spat back.
“How much does she owe you?” Hyunjin repeated in a calm tone. The taxi driver was eyeing him back, “For this nonsense, three hundred thousand won”
You almost laughed, “What?”
“Okay,” Hyunjin replied, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He took out his credit card, and handed it to him calmly, “Please open the trunk”
The guy also didn’t seem to believe it, and he was wide-eyed, grabbing Hyunjin’s credit card to swipe it. And then with ease, Hyunjin grabbed your suitcases, pulling them out and settling them down on the curb.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I hope you have a good night,” Hyunjin said to him, still in a calm voice that contrasted with the drivers’. The guy looked up at him, “Yeah. Whatever, dude.”
And then he drove off in a plume of smoke and snow.
“What the fuck, Hyunjin?” 
You’d been too shocked to process the state of things. Hyunjin looked back at you, the ever-present image of calm, “Can we go inside?”
You stepped up to him, in disbelief, “No, no, we fucking can’t. That was my ride. Why did you just pay him off? And three hundred thousand won? Are you insane? He completely ripped you off! And why the hell are you making decisions for me?”
“If you really want to go, I’ll drive you to the train station, but I’m not letting you get into a car like that, he seemed wasted.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms, “You’ll drive me to the train station?”
“Yeah, I will, if it means you’ll be safe.”
“From how you’re acting right now, you seem pretty wasted too.”
“Look.” He suddenly said, “Kairi told me you haven’t responded to her texts in a week. She got worried—”
“And she sent you here to check up on me? Kairi should know better.”
Hyunjin ignored your jab and continued talking, “And clearly she was right to be worried, because you’re moving out in the middle of the night in a freaking snowstorm!”
“I don’t owe you an explanation. Not really.” You stared at him, hugging yourself tighter. The snow was coming down heavy, wind building up so you could barely even hear each other. He seemed unaffected by every attack of yours, “I know you don’t…but… she’s worried about you. The least you could do is tell her what’s going on.”
You glared at him, “So you’re only here for her, right? If I call her right now, you’ll leave?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, sighing, “No…I’m worried about you too. I…don’t understand.”
Of course, he was worried now, the only time it seemed to matter the least. You were freezing, and the time for leaving seemed to have come and gone. You could book another taxi, but the snow was only growing, and there was still time for your train, so it wouldn’t make any sense to stand outside in this terrible weather. So you said, “Yeah. Sucks not to know things, doesn’t it?”
Hyunjin ignored the taunt yet again, and picked your suitcase up, “Can we please just wait inside?”
So, you didn’t argue for once and let him follow you back inside. It was just a matter of time, but this meant you’d need to have an actual conversation with Hyunjin, and you were dreading that. 
“You live on the top floor?” He asked, looking up the atrium. You took your bag from his hands, “Yup. I’ll take that.”
“What, no” He didn’t let you, pulling it back, “You’re not carrying that up.”
It wasn't even heavy but you gave in, too tired to protest, letting him follow you up the stairs to your apartment. You were so annoyed that you only just realized that this meant he’d see where you live. You suddenly felt embarrassed. The stairwell was rickety and shabby. Your apartment was so small, it felt like a joke. And he’d see it. Maybe this was a bad decision, but it didn’t matter anymore what he thought. He probably already thought terrible things about you. He certainly wouldn’t have ignored you for months if he didn’t.
You pushed open your door, and he stepped in tentatively. There wasn’t really much for him to see, yet his eyes traveled across the entire space and all your furniture as he took it in. He’d never even seen your room in Daejon. So he must think you live like this all the time. Poorly and with no taste. It was laughable how different you two were.
“No art?” He questioned, staring at the empty, barren walls. A pang hit you as you realized, “I got rid of it.”
He glanced at you, eyes wide, “Oh.”
You sat on the armrest of your couch, facing him, and he still stood at the threshold, processing your apartment. He seemed weirdly fascinated with it and asked, “Can I come in?”
“You’re already like, halfway in, so yeah” You mumbled. He stepped inside, for real, shutting the door behind him. This all felt so insane. Hyunjin was in your fucking apartment. Why? You thought you’d got rid of all the anger in you, but you certainly hadn’t. Your conversation with Minnie and Jamie came back to you too. He used you, because you’re so fucking nice. They like the thrill of the chase, and when they actually get the girl, they’re bored of her. Is that why he was interested in you again? That’s probably why he was chasing you again.
“So…um, I know you don’t owe me an explanation, but what about your friends? Kairi…and the people from your classes. Do they know why you’re leaving in the middle of the night?”
You stared at him, observing his expressions. If you told him about Kim Jieong, you’d have no idea how he’d react. You mumbled, “No. They don’t. It doesn’t concern anybody but me.”
He nodded slowly, hurt flashing through him, “Okay. Can…we talk about something else then?”
You crossed your arms, unsure what he even meant, “Yeah. We can talk about how my train leaves in three hours, so I have to be at the station before then.”
He swallowed, “You’re…not going to show me around your place? This is the first time—”
“From where you’re standing, you already saw all of it,” You replied, feeling embarrassed despite not wanting to care. He nodded, “Oh. So…you sleep on the couch?”
You let out a dry laugh at that. Obviously, he was right to assume that based on what you said, but it was still funny because it could have actually been true. You’d been so stupidly fucking desperate for the city you’d have literally slept on a park bench if you had to. Hyunjin frowned at your laughter, “I…I was just asking. Sorry”
“No, I sleep in my bed, which is in my bedroom and I don’t really see why you’d care about that, so…can you cut to the chase and tell me why you came to my apartment in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm?”
He swallowed, resting his head against your front door, “It wasn’t snowing when I left…”
“Oh, right. That’s inconvenient for you. You wouldn’t have come if it was.”
“No, I still would’ve come.” His eyes narrowed, “Please…just…can you talk to me normally?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I understand that you’re pissed at me, but I just want to have a conversation. I came here because I was worried about you. I would have come sooner if I could, but with my work it’s impossible. So please…can we just talk?”
No, you couldn’t because if you 'just talked’ to him, you’d remember how crazy in love with him you still were, after all his repeated rejections and ghosting, and not wanting you. You changed the topic, “You know that cab driver ripped you off, right? That ride isn’t worth that money.”
Hyunjin swallowed, “I know. But…he was drunk, and it’s not safe for him to drive anyone. With that amount, he wouldn’t have to take any more customers for the night. It’d be enough for the week.”
So he was still kind to everyone except you. Even to your wasted taxi driver. Good to know.
“There. I answered your question. Are you going to be answering mine?” He spoke, for once matching your fervor and energy. You stared at him, “Which question? You asked me, like ten.”
He sighed, stepping away from the door, and closer to you. He was so tall, he really did make your apartment seem small. He was almost as tall as your couch. You gripped the sides of the armrest, looking up at him. His face traversed many expressions like he was struggling with the right thing to say, and then he spoke, “Are you okay?”
You chose to be honest, chewing on your lower lip as you admitted, “I will be when I get home.”
His face fell, like he’d been expecting something else, and his whole body seemed tense. You suppose it was a valid reaction because this had been your dream, so he couldn’t possibly understand why you were running away. “But…”
“But what?” You asked, looking up at him, not wanting to leave any breathing room for emotions because now was not the time. If you went down that spiral, you’d never come back out, “It’s your turn to answer now. I still can’t understand why you’re here, after our conversation in the car.”
He contemplated for a second, looking away, and then back at you, saying, “I came here to make sure you were okay… that’s why I got on the first flight back home.”
You stood up, staring at him, “Flight back from where?”
“Bangkok.” He stated, a tinge of embarrassment in his features, “We had a schedule there…a show, but Kairi told me that you hadn’t responded to her texts, she was really worried…I had to come back.”
You stilled, and he surprised you for the first time that night. “What about the others?”
“The rest of the band is still there.” He spoke, “I just… couldn’t wait”
“You…took a flight for this?” You were having trouble processing this. He nodded, resignation and disappointment in his voice, “But clearly I should’ve come sooner.”
For a second, you allowed yourself the luxury to wonder if things would be different, had he come sooner. If things had been different, had he never left you at all. You couldn’t even imagine the other side of things — a reality where he stayed with you all this, and maybe all those bad things wouldn’t have happened to you. You couldn’t blame Hyunjin for everything that went wrong in your life after he left, but it sure seemed convenient to blame him. A myriad of thoughts overwhelmed you. He was confusing you too much. You needed to get out of this city, far away from here, and it felt like you were suddenly leaving with no good memories. Hyunijn was looking at you so deeply, so you swallowed your pride, “Can you do me a favour, Hyunjin?”
“Anything. What is it?”
“Can we just…stop by the Atelier before you take me to the station?” You asked, hoping he would oblige you in this last request since he seemed far too eager anyway, “Please.”
“Oh. Okay.” Defeat sank into his shoulders as he realised you had indeed made up your mind. Maybe he expected to hear something else from you. He didn’t protest though, because he had already agreed. In deafening silence, he led you to his car, which was parked around the block. When he opened the trunk, you saw his own suitcase. A simple black suitcase. He really had just come from the airport. It shocked your heart in a way you’d craved for all this time. When Yeonjun had come home to make up with Hana, you’d wished that someone would love you that much, to fly across the country for you. And Hyunjin did even more than that. He flew from another country… Yet you didn’t know what to make of it. He only came because Kairi was worried for you.
He carefully placed your bags next to his, as if anything was fragile in them but your clothes. He was uncannily quiet as he drove you, and you had nothing left to say. You watched the passing skyscrapers, and craved for the quiet of the mountainside back home. The Atelier wasn’t too far from your place, and he already seemed to know the way.
“So why are we here, Y/N?” He asked, as you both stared up at the towering glass building that was home to your classes. Seeing it now in the dark, it was one of the prettiest buildings you’d seen, built like art, for artists. You remember seeing it on the front page of the brochure you’d found years ago, and it had decided the trajectory of your life. It was still snowing, flakes falling on the two of you, and it was so cold in the parking lot. You owed him an explanation so you spoke, “This last week, I was working on a painting. It was becoming something really special, but… I forgot it in the classroom. I’d like to take it with me when I go.”
“Oh.” He simply nodded like it made all the sense in the world, not questioning this stupid request, and followed you to the front door. Obviously, nobody was here. It was after hours, and no security guards were in sight. You stared at the revolving doors, trying to figure out a plan. “Is it locked?” Hyunjin asked you, sounding impatient in this weather, “You don’t have the access card?”
If you entered the building with your keycard, it’d send a notification straight to Kim Jieong. That’s how he’d known you were here the last time. The memory sent you a shudder, and the last thing you wanted was to bump into him. You bit your lip, “Wait. I’m thinking.”
The cold was making you do stupid things, like shifting closer to him, so your shoulder would brush his. Simple body heat. Even through your thick coat, and his, the touch sent a flutter to your stomach. Hyunjin glanced at you as you did that, and his lips were becoming icy cold, “Well… it’d be nice if you could think faster. I wouldn’t want to die of hypothermia before you figure it out.”
You looked at him, surprised by the sudden sass in his tone, “Are you done?”
“Give me your keycard, let’s just go in.” He let out a breath, fog leaving his mouth. You frowned, not wanting to explain the whole story, “I don’t have one. It’s deactivated.”
“Okay…” He sighed, looking around the facade, “Is there another entrance we can use?”
You thought over his words. You had an idea. It was a stupid idea. You shrugged, hands deep in your coat pockets, “The back door.”
“Well, why don’t we just use that?” He asked. You shot him a tight smile, “It’s technically off-limits.” It was the emergency stairwell. You’d heard enough lectures about it, but you didn’t care right now. That was the only way to get into the building. You’d just have to suck it up. “I’m going to have to…technically break in.” You stepped ahead. His eyes widened, and he reached out to stop you, “What?”
“Only technically. You should probably go back to the car, because if someone comes here, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. It could hurt your…reputation.”
“No, it could put us in jail.” He stated matter-of-factly, and the cold must make him more sassy or annoyed or something. You didn’t have time for this. You sighed, crossing your arms, “That’s exactly why you should wait in the car. I promise I’ll be quick. I’ll grab my stuff and come.”
He let out a forced laugh, and there was a shiver in his voice, “What are you talking about?”
“I’ll be quick,” You reassured him. He stared at you, deadpan, “You’re not going in there by yourself.”
You frowned at his displaced concern, “It’s just an art school, Hyunjin, nothing’s going to harm me in there”
He glanced up at the towering building that did look kind of ominous right now, “You don’t know that. I’m not taking any chances.”
You felt frustrated because he was only protesting and not offering any solutions, “Well, you’re not stopping me, Hyunjin.”
“No, I’m coming with you.” 
“What?” You scoffed, “I’m breaking in. If somebody finds out, you’re going to get into trouble—” 
“I don’t care.” He interrupted you harshly and then took a breath, repeating, “I don’t care if I get into trouble. I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.” 
Your eyes widened, watching him. Did he really not think of the consequences? He spent all his life protecting his public image, and now he was willing to risk it for you? His words sent an unpleasant feeling down your spine. He cared. He cared about you to the point that he was okay with being caught. That was a new kind of feeling you couldn’t process. All this while, you’d prioritised Hyunjin’s needs and the consequences in his life because he was so much more important than you. This was new.
“Are you sure?” You asked. He glanced at the building and then around the abandoned parking lot as if he was seriously reconsidering this absurd request. You saw the hesitation in his posture, his lips parting as if to say no he was only joking, and he would never do something as stupid as this. Then his eyes landed on yours. They flickered over your face, the cold in his gaze melting into strange tenderness, “Of course I’m sure. I can’t let you go alone.”
“Fine.” You nodded, breath coming out in a cold puff, “We should be quick.” He followed you to the back of the building, the big glowing EXIT sign, and the notice that read, ‘This is not an entrance. Please use front door access’
You sucked in a breath for good measure, pushing the door open, and when no immediate alarms rang, you stepped in. Hyunjin followed you into the darkness, and you switched on your phone's flashlight to guide you. You were still shivering. There was no heating in here, and he asked, “Now what, Y/N?”
“My class is on the top floor,” You whispered, just in case someone was in the stairwell.
“I’m guessing we can’t use the elevator?” He deadpanned. You gripped the handrail, “Yeah. Using the elevator’s too risky. If someone’s still in the building, they’d realise.”
“This painting must be really important to you.” He spoke, following you up the stairs into complete darkness. The Atelier was fancy, but this stairwell…was not. It was industrially exposed, the sound of a loud generator buzzing and a flickering light above you. There was a constant banging sound that you guessed was from the pipes in the wall. You tried not to overthink this situation, where Hyunjin was breaking and entering with you in your dream academy. Each little sound was putting you on edge. You heard him mutter, “This is really creepy.”
Over your shoulder, you peeked at him. He had his flashlight turned on too, and it shone into his face, dark shadows over his jaw and lips. “Are you afraid?” You asked. He shook his head, “Let’s just get this over with, Y/N.”
You climbed the rest of the floors in silence, preserving your voice and breath. It was still freezing in here, and you did feel bad that you’d dragged him along for this. But out of everything, this was the least he could do. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to come here alone, not after what happened the other night with Jieong. You were glad he insisted to come with you, even if you never would have expected him to in a million years. Finally, you reached the landing for the highest floor and stopped to catch your breath. There was a door marked ‘Rooftop Access’, that led to the greenhouse-studio. 
“Do we exit here?” He asked, reaching out to the knob. As he pulled the door open, light flooded the stairwell from outside. The lights in the studio were usually always turned off, but if they were on.… The cogwheels in your brain clicked just in time.
“Stop!” You whisper-yelled, grabbing him by the coat and pulling him back towards you. He stumbled, losing his balance in the dark and you steadied him. He braced himself against the wall, unintentionally pressing you to it.
“What are you doing?” He whispered, eyes wide.
“The lights were still turned on. That means someone’s in there.” You breathed, heart racing fast. You could have easily been caught. You weren’t really worried for yourself because you had nothing to lose, but Hyunjin…you really didn’t want to get him into trouble, even if he was completely okay with the consequences. He squeezed his eyes shut, “Oh. Okay”
He stepped away from you, and you could hear his heartbeat. “You scared me” He mumbled, after a while. He reached up to fix his messy hair, moving it out of his eyes. “I didn’t know you were scared of the dark, Hyunjin.” You mumbled. He narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m not. I’m…scared of people yanking my arm suddenly in confined spaces.”
“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” You touched his arm, brushing over the coat, wondering if you’d grabbed him too hard. Had you bruised him? He didn’t stop you, as if he enjoyed being fawned over and then spoke, “So what is our plan? Are we going to stand in the stairwell forever? I thought you were in a hurry to get to the station.”
“We’re waiting for them to leave, whoever it is” You mumbled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall to rest, “I don’t want to run into anybody.”
“What if they decide to stay here the entire night?”
“They won’t. It must be a janitor. They’ll leave soon. Nobody even comes in after hours. The other night when I was—” You cut yourself short, not wanting to tell Hyunjin about the events of that night. He picked up on it though, tilting his head, “When you were what?”
You cleared your throat, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
His lips pursed, but he didn’t question further. Suddenly, you heard footsteps. Hyunjin’s head whipped to the door, then to you, “Are they coming in here?”
Clearly he was still scared of being caught, despite all the talk of not giving a shit about the consequences. In panic, you pressed your finger to his lips, “Can you please be quiet?”
He instantly shut up, not that he had a choice with you shushing him like this anyway. His lips were soft to your fingertips, and you stared at each other in the low light of your flashlight. The footsteps sounded again, and you heard the elevator ding. Whoever was in the studio had just left. You were in the clear. 
You retracted your hand, his saliva sticking to your fingers, and if it had been anybody else, you would have wiped it off immediately because that was gross. But with him…you didn’t care. You’d lick your own fingers to taste him, if he wasn’t standing right here. The thought crossing your mind was insane and you felt annoyed at yourself for trudging into that territory again. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with you the last time you met, and the time before that, and before that. Why were you so fucking weak around him? All your frustrations with him couldn’t seem to damper the attraction you felt. “They’re gone now” You mumbled, hoping to sound as emotionless and detached as you aspired to be, wiping your hand on your coat, and Hyunjin noticed that, his cheeks tinging pink.
“Let’s go” He slowly followed behind you into the elevator lobby, where the massive glass doors led to your studio. He looked confused, “I thought we were going to a classroom”
“Yeah. We are.” You replied curtly, pushing open the doors and walking onto the metal walkway. Plants drowned you on both sides, and your company's only telltale sound was his winter boots loud on the metal grate. Hyunjin was looking around in awe, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes would always give him away. He was awestruck. A small part of you was satisfied. You’d been dreaming of this reaction ever since you’d joined these classes. At least you got to see it before you left. He reached out, touching the petals of a dozen different flowers as you passed them, until you entered the studio space. You used to feel so much joy stepping in here. But it had always been coupled with sadness too —you’d been moving on from Hyunjin in this very space, and here he was, none the wiser. 
“Shit. This is your classroom?” He stepped into the centre, doing a full circle, head tilted up to the glass ceilings. The view was so pretty at night, revealing the beauty of the lit-up skyscrapers. The famous city lights that Hyunjin loved. 
“Yeah.” You nodded, walking over to the storage cupboards. You tried not to think of Kim Jieong and what had happened the last time you were here. You had a mission, a singular focus, and you ripped open the cabinets, rifting through them to look for your painting. It was a massive canvas, but maybe somebody had rolled it up and put them here. There was no way they’d throw it away, right? You’d been working on it so deliberately. They’d have to know it wasn’t trash. Kim Jieong wouldn’t do that to you either. But after looking through every cupboard, your heart sank. There was nowhere else it could be. Maybe he did throw out your artwork, because none of the paintings you’d made in the last few months were here. Shockingly, it seemed you knew nothing of him. 
In defeat, you leaned against the desk, staring into the empty cupboard. You…had just wanted your unfinished canvas, as a stupid souvenir or something to take home with you so your time here didn’t feel wasted. You’d poured so much energy, hours of research and experience behind it. It was the first art piece in the city you’d genuinely been excited about, and now it was just…gone. Like it never existed in the first place, and you’d only been gone a week but it felt like you were already being erased.
A short laugh interrupted you. You turned to see Hyunijn bent over a telescope that looked out into the city, “This…is a dream. Holy shit.”
“I’m glad you like it” You mumbled, fiddling with your coat as you stayed in place. At least someone was having a good time. He glanced at you, cheeks red, and stood up straight, “This…is the coolest art studio I’ve ever been in.”
“Yeah. It is pretty cool”
“The range of this thing…is insane. I actually think I can see a planet from here” He spoke, focusing on the telescope again. It was cute, his tall frame bent over the telescope that was meant for much shorter people. He was so easily excited about things, like he had forgotten you’d broken into this building, and that you’d been arguing with each other less than an hour ago. It reminded you of how fixated he would get on the things he loved. 
“A planet? Wow…” You mumbled.
“Do you ever use it in class?” He asked, excitement in his tone.
“No…I never got the chance to.” Your voice dropped, trailing off at the what-ifs and your missed opportunities. You were running away from the place you’d dreamed of for so long. All because of a stupid man. It wasn’t fair to you. Nothing about this was fair. Why had you worked so hard for it to be thrown away? He blinked at you, as if he noticed the sadness in your voice, “Do you want to?”
“I don’t really know how it works.” You swallowed, staring at the empty cabinets, and your heart felt so heavy, like a huge weight was pressing down on it, and you couldn’t breathe right. All of the anxiety bubbled up in your throat, filling your lungs with it too. Your lip quivered, a tremble traveling through your spine, and the heaviness in your chest was only getting worse as reality set in. You were never going to be in here again. So much for chasing that dream.
“Come here.” Hyunjin’s soft voice broke your avalanche of despair. You sucked in a breath, hoping any tears would disappear and glanced at him. He stood against the large floor-to-ceiling window, hands around the telescope, the city as his majestic backdrop. You didn’t want to protest. This was your last night in the city, you might as well indulge in it. You walked over to him, and each step felt like so much effort, your boots loud in the quiet room.
“Stand over here” He said, his voice low but filled with excitement. “Did you forget we’re in the middle of committing a crime right now?” You couldn’t help but say, wondering if it’d snap him back to reality, if he would stop being such a romantic. His lip curled up into a smile, and Hyunjin was so pretty in the moonlight, voice dropping into a secret, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
God. His words sent chills down your body, momentarily displacing that heaviness. A secret night with him. The temptation was screaming. You stepped up to the telescope, bending down to the eyepiece. Hyunjin grabbed your hands without hesitation, placing them in the proper position on the metal tube. His voice was tender as he explained, “Now, put your hands here, and try to look through the eyepiece in that direction.”
Had you completely derailed from the plot? Your train home was in a few hours. Each second being here was literally a crime. Still, you indulged him, squinting to see where he’d pointed it. You could only see black and perhaps you weren’t special enough to see magnificent things such as celestial planets. You felt frustrated, trying really hard to see, but it was a big blob of nothing.
“Do you see it?” He asked, voice a whisper. You saw nothing of significance. 
“No…never mind.” You breathed, standing up straight with disappointment. “Wait…” He spoke, quick to want to fix it, “Can I…?”
You shrugged, not understanding what he was asking. He grabbed you by the waist, adjusting you slightly. His hand curled around your thick coat, and you wished he was touching your skin. He was so close to your body. Your breath was stuck in your throat, and then he said, “Can you try now? Bend down again.”
You followed his instructions like they were the words of god. You tried not to fog up with the eyepiece with your breath and to focus on the view, but Hyunjin was touching you and standing behind your body, so how could you possibly focus? You mumbled, “I just see…a big white spot.”
“That’s it” He whispered, leaning down, his mouth brushing against your ear, “That’s Jupiter, Y/N.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, and you gripped the tube tighter for a better hold, “But it’s just a speck of light…”
He chuckled, breath warm on your ice-cold skin, “I know, we’re so far away from it, but it’s bigger than we can ever imagine. You see those two circles in the centre? Those are the cloud belts.”
“I see them.” You spoke, suddenly feeling so small. It was so huge, a real-life planet, and from here it was just a speck in the sky. Your place in the world felt even more trivial. It was so majestic. You tried to imagine all the pictures of Jupiter you’d seen, placing them into this context. Hyunjin’s hand was still on your waist, not that you could feel it much through the clothes, only a ghost of a touch. You straightened up, and he left his grip on you as you asked, “How do you know so much about this?”
He shrugged, like it was no big deal, “I’ve been doing some reading. We’re lucky the snow stopped. Usually, nothing is visible. The lights and cloud cover are too much.”
You stepped away from the telescope, wondering where he found the time to read up about this between his very busy life, “I see.”
He had a hint of a smile, “What did you think? It’s surreal, right?” 
It was. It was so beautiful.... 
You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, “My painting isn’t here. We should go.”
The smile on his face dropped, and he nodded, voice returning to a normal octave, “Right. Where do you think it could be?”
“I don’t know” You sighed, and the weight on your chest was back, and you couldn’t look at him right now, “I checked everywhere. They probably threw it out. I should just go to the station, it’s getting late.”
“Oh. Right.” His voice sounded hollow. You didn’t want to leave him. But he wasn’t even here, was he? He was just…doing you a favour, and then he’d go back to not wanting you in his life. 
“I can…help you look for the painting” He suggested, “Couldn’t it be in other places? We can check the rest of the building.”
“No, it’s gone. We came here for nothing. Please, let’s just leave.”
His shoulders dropped in disappointment, “This studio is beautiful. I’d…actually do anything to have a space like this to paint in, feels like I’d never run out of inspiration.” 
You stared at him, wondering what point he was trying to make now. Then he said, “Why do you want to leave this, Y/N?” 
You didn’t answer him, a horrible twisting in your gut, and glanced at the exact spot you’d been standing when Kim Jieong cornered you against the table, making all kinds of suggestions to you. You felt sick to your core again.
“It’s not because of me, right?”
You looked at him, feeling overwhelmed, and suddenly, the weight wasn’t pushing down but pulling you instead. You felt like you were drowning, lungs crushing with the force of being dragged down and you had tunnel vision, overwhelmed with everything, “What?”
“You’re leaving. Is it…because of me?” His voice was low, and his words were not helping. You couldn’t tell if Hyunjin was drowning you, or savi you right now.
A lump formed in your throat, forbidding you from speaking as you processed those words. Were you leaving the city behind because of him? Maybe. He was a big part of it, but you’d never run away from Hyunjin. You’d chase him forever if you could. How could he even think that it was cause of him? You bit your lip, “If it was because of you, I’d be gone a long time ago, Hyunjin.”
You turned to leave, and Hyunjin’s next words echoed through the large room, “Please don’t go.”
Your eyes widened at his…blatant, crude request. He’d done nothing but push you away. How could he ask you to stay?
“I know… I’m the last person who has the right to ask you to stay, but… there’s so much for you here. I know you would love it.”
You turned to face him, “Like…what?”
It’s like he didn’t expect you to actually humor him, and he blurted, tripping over his words, “You can’t leave without having seen Christmas. Everything’s…a blanket of snow, and it’s lit up, and the city lights…are so beautiful, Y/N. You can’t miss that. You can’t not see them.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, and you wanted to cry at this. What kind of reasoning was this? Hyunjin was asking you to stay, and you must be dreaming, right? 
“Christmas is really far away, Hyunjin…”
He took another step closer, more confident like he'd found his reasoning now, “I know, but it’ll be so worth it. It’s my favorite time of the year. You’ll fall in love with it too. It seems like you hate this place, and it feels like my fault, but there is so much for you here. I’ve only been back a few months and I’ve already seen a hundred things you would love. You would appreciate them more than anybody, and I’ve thought of you every time. You belong here, not…in that town back home.”
It was so tempting, especially when he said it like that. “I can’t stay, Hyunjin”
He stepped even closer, “Why?” He asked, a desperation slipping through. He cared so much. You wish he had shown it before. It didn’t matter now. Things had immeasurably changed, in this very room. You had been trying so hard to not feel the weight of everything, but it was impossible. Not when he was looking at you like that.
The dam broke.
A single tear at first.
Then a sob. “Hyun…”
Immediately, without any question or hesitation, he closed the distance between you and pulled you into his arms. 
His touch brought on a wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest, pitiful sobs bubbling to the top. For the longest time, he just held you in his embrace and you cried. All you could register was his hold on you, and his heart racing against your ear. He squeezed you tightly, hugging you to him to pull you even closer to his body, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“He…he tried to—” You sniffled, unable to form the words.
“What?” He tensed in your grip. He clearly hadn’t expected to hear anything of that sort, but his hand still ran circles over your back, “Who did what?”
“Kim…Jieong.” You mumbled, eyes squeezed shut in his chest, not wanting to burden him with this knowledge but your throat felt clogged with emotion that you couldn’t contain within yourself anymore, “He…said I could convince him”
You were aware that you made no sense, but it was enough for him to understand. Hyunjin pulled back, hands holding your shoulders as he looked at you, and his eyes were wide, “What? Did he touch you?”
“No…” You sniffled, lip trembling, “He…just…”
Hyunjin’s hand came up to your face, holding your chin unbeknownst that your professor had tried the same. You were only filled with terror when Kim Jieong did that, but right now…you felt the safest in the world. Your face was hot, his hand was warm on you. His thumb wiped your tears, the other hand holding your face tight, “What did he do?”
You shook your head, vision blurry from the tears in your lash line, and you had no idea how to explain this, “Hyunjin. I… don’t even know how to deal with this.”
“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.” He said. You looked up at him, eyes blown wide, “What do you mean?”
He took in a breath, still holding you strongly, as his thumbs gently wiped the tears streaking down your face, and his soft gesture was a stark contrast to his next words, “Tell me what he did. I’m going to talk to that piece of shit.”
“No, you can’t. I…I don’t have any proof, Hyunjin and I don’t even know if he was trying something—” You trailed off, struggling with your words but he wasn’t even listening. He was staring into the distance, “I have to go talk to him.”
“What?”
He started walking out. What the fuck was he doing? You ran after him, tugging at his arm, “What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the night.”
He turned to you, his eyes were dark, and his jaw was clenched. and there was more emotion in his face than you’d seen in the past hour as he said, “He…he fucking touched you. He can’t… do that.”
“Oh my god, you can’t go after him” 
“Why?” He asked, eyes searching yours. You weren’t equipped to deal with whatever anger he held in him. It seemed like Hyunjin had quickly forgotten who he was in this world. A world-famous celebrity who definitely couldn’t go after a renowned artist, especially not at this time of night. As much as you appreciated the gesture, it wasn’t thought out at all, and it pissed you off, “You don’t even know what happened, Hyunjin!”
“It doesn’t matter. I know enough.”
“Can you please just…calm down?” Your eyes widened, regret soaring through you, “I…I knew I shouldn’t have told you. It was a mistake.”
He frowned, stepping closer to you, “Fuck. Don’t… don’t say that. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to react. I just wanted you to listen.” You said. He let in a deep breath, like he was physically calming himself down, running his hands over his face, “Okay. I am listening. I just…need a second.”
You could see the anger surging through him, and you mumbled, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, I’m…not thinking straight. I’m sorry, I just…”
“I should never have brought you here. I could have been on the train home already. You were right, okay? I am running away.” You admitted, lip trembling, “I’m sorry.”
His voice softened at your state, “What are you apologizing for? Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong”
“Yeah.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, and you realised you’d have to tell him the whole truth now, because you’d stupidly brought it up. You wiped at your face with your sleeve, but he reached into his coat pocket, handing you a tissue, “Let me…”
“You…carry tissues with you?” You vaguely registered through your clouded judgement, wiping your face. He was quiet for a minute, and you tried to collect yourself. You were embarrassed, and your face was burning hot from crying, and from the shame, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry…I ruined your coat.”
“Come here…” He led you to the nearest table, pulling you to sit next to him. He hesitated before reaching out, hand on your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry for reacting. I…I didn’t expect to hear that, but you can’t understand how this makes me feel. I know you don’t want to talk about it but I’m going to drive myself crazy if you don’t tell me what happened.”
He was right, and you probably would have reacted worse if someone had hurt Hyunjin. You would have lost your mind. You had thrust this information upon him unwillingly, and he did deserve to know the truth of it. Now that you tried to recall it, most of it felt like blanks in your mind and you muttered, “There’s an art scholarship that we were told about. It was a big one. If we won, it would pay for the rest of our year, and we could present our work in this gallery. It was supposed to be a huge honor. I was working on a painting for it the other night. I was here by myself…and…Jieong saw me working. I don’t…know how it led to that. I don’t remember most of it, but he said he liked that I was… desperate.”
“What?” Hyunjin interrupted you. You swallowed, “He said that I was desperate to be liked and respected and that I could go a lot of places in the world, if I…convinced him somehow. That all I had to do was ask him…and my dreams could come true.”
He scoffed, “By sleeping with him?”
“I don’t know. I left after that.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, “I was really confused.”
“He hurt you?”
You shrugged, a fresh wave of tears springing up, “No…at least not physically”
His hand reached out to yours, “I’m…really sorry that happened, Y/N.”
You pulled your hand back before he could touch it. You weren’t here tonight to seek Hyunjin’s comfort. You were just offering him an explanation so he wouldn’t be left in the dark after you were gone. You said, “But nothing even happened, Hyunjin. Nothing I can prove anyway. Except that he’s cancelled my scholarship.”
“He can’t do that” He said. You mumbled, “I missed out on an entire week of classes. He…has valid reason now.”
“Did you tell anyone?” He asked, “Any of your friends from class?”
As if having this conversation once wasn't embarrassing enough. You didn't plan to tell anybody else about it. It would be a secret you'd take to the grave. If you told people, all they'd question was your obsession to come here in the first place. After all, why would a married man come on to you at all, risking his career? You must have come on to him -- at least that's what everyone would think. You shook your head, “Nope…Just…you.”
“I’m…sorry that this happened. I wish I could…do something to help.” He spoke. You looked at him, unable to comprehend that he was being kind to you again. He was so tender and caring right now, but how long could this really last? The last time he was this tender was in the storage closet, and he’d kissed you so passionately and then immediately cut you off. Wasn’t this compassion just temporary? You stepped away from him, running a hand over your face to wipe away the dried tears, “Yeah. No biggie.”
He noticed the change in your demeanor, dropping his hands to his lap, but said nothing of it. You stared at the place where Jieong had tried to make a move, and where your canvas had been. You wish you hadn't come here that night at all, then you could have been blissfully unaware of his behaviour and stayed happy. The longer you stayed here, the sicker you felt. 
“We should talk about this in my car.” Hyunjin said, offering his hand to you again. You stared at his soft palm and inviting touch, but you didn’t take it. If the rejection hurt him, he didn’t show it. You just hugged yourself, “Okay”
You followed him into the elevator lobby, about to head for the stairwell again, but he pressed the button for the elevator. You frowned, “We can’t go out the front door. If they see you—”
“I really don’t give a shit about that right now” He spoke, pushing a hand through his hair, and you noticed how tense he was, “If they catch me, I’d have a lot to talk to them about anyway.”
“But… this is not worth it.” You spoke, as the elevator doors opened. He took in a breath, facing away, running another hand through his hair, you realised he always did that when he was nervous, “I just… can’t believe they let an artist like that work with them.”
You steadied yourself against the elevator wall, as the floors went by. The doors opened into the lobby. You prayed that nobody was in there. No matter how much Hyunjin didn’t care, you didn’t want to cause a scene and you definitely couldn’t handle jeopardizing his job. If anybody saw you two… they could call the cops and he couldn’t afford to be put under scrutiny. It would risk his career and everything else that mattered. Uncaring of this, he stepped into the lobby, footsteps loud as he walked towards the front door. You followed, looking around and thankfully, the front desk was empty. The odds were in your favor, perhaps. He almost looked disappointed that there was nobody to confront as you exited the building. He was walking so fast, and you struggled to keep up as you made your way to the parking lot. Once you were sitting inside his car, you asked him, “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”
“I don’t know. He…needs to be fired. He can’t just get away with what he did to you. Once he gets fired, they’ll put in a new teacher, and…you can continue the classes. And for what they’ve put you through, they should grant you a new scholarship anyway, no questions asked. He should be the one to leave, not you.”
Before you could think about his words, your phone on the console buzzed, and you both glanced at it. He read it the same time as you. There was a text from Felix. have you made it to the train station yet, baby?
Hyunjin looked up at you, eyes that were suddenly devoid of anger, but…a new desperation, “Do you…still want me to take you?”
You swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of everything on your shoulders again. Your suitcases were packed and waiting in the trunk. Your train was booked. You’d made your decision. You stared at the window, “Your…plan sounds fine Hyunjin, but… I’m not important enough for them to fire their biggest artist ever. Nothing good can come out of me staying here with that false hope.”
His eyes flickered over your features before turning away. He started the engine, and said nothing, pulling out of the driveway. You tried to gather your emotions, watching the snow piled up by the sides of the street. Your first and last snow here. You imagined being home already. It would help so much. Felix, Minho and all your friends. You'd go back to working at the art shop. Maybe you could pay a grand and enroll in the classes at the Chateau, and practice art under Seungmin. Nothing would come out of it but at least you’d be occupied. Some people weren’t built for greatness, and you could be okay with that, unlike the boy next to you. Hyunjin suddenly spoke, hands gripping the wheel tightly, “It’s not false hope. Something like this can have serious repercussions. You should’ve told me the second he did that. He would already be out of his job by now.”
He was redirecting the conversation to him, when it was about you. Your head hurt at this faux chivalry. Did he really even care about Jieong or did he just want someone to pin his anger on? You stared at him, “I don’t even have your fucking phone number, Hyunjin.”
He stopped the car, bringing it to the side of the road. You hadn’t reached your destination yet, and you were in the middle of a random neighbourhood. You stared at him, unsure of what was going through his mind, “What are you doing?”
He reached into his coat pocket, took out two identical phones and handed one to you, “I was going to give you this tonight.”
You grabbed it from him, “What is this?”
“It’s…a phone with my number on it” He said, looking right ahead, “I bought it for you.”
Your brows raised, “You…bought me a phone?”
“And this one…” He lifted his own identical phone, which also seemed brand-new, “This is mine. The only thing on it… is your number.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s so we can talk to each other” He turned to face you, “And nobody can trace it back to us, The phone isn’t connected to anything else, except…to each other.”
You blinked, trying to process this, “Oh”
He looked frustrated as he spoke, “I know what I said to you last time. I know that I said we can’t be in each other's life, but… I’m trying my real hardest to find a fucking way around it. What I did and said was uncalled for. I realize that…it hurt you, but you have to cut me some slack, Y/N. I’m…really trying to figure it out.”
“I’ve cut you more slack than I ever would with somebody who’s made it absolutely clear they don’t want me around them” You blinked. He sighed, “I’m sorry. I understand that what I said hurt you, and…I really didn’t mean to. You know me, Y/N, better than anyone in my life and…I would never want to hurt you like that.”
“Then why did you say all those things…?”
He let out a sigh, turning to look at you, “I was only thinking about myself. I guess… I was running away too.”
You stared at him, the irony of tonight striking you. You were blaming him for what he’d done, when you were now doing the exact same thing.
All the fight died down in you.
“We’re more alike than I thought.” He mumbled. Maybe now you could finally understand where he came from. The urge to shut down and cut everybody out had felt far too tempting. You glanced at him, holding the phone tight in your hands. This could be the last time you saw him. He’d never come to Daejon, and you couldn’t afford to come back here. Was this really it? The last time you ever saw Hyunjin. A new emotion overwhelmed you, and you weren’t ready to say goodbye so soon. “Can you please just tell me something before I go?”
His hands rest on the steering wheel, and it seemed like he’d already given up on convincing you to stay. His question came out defeated, “What do you want to know?”
You stared at his side profile, “How did you get the pictures? The ones from the booth.”
“I…went back.” He responded, not questioning the randomness of what you’d just said. You were confused, “What? Went back here?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, “Later that night, I went back to the summer carnival. After you’d already left. When we were in the booth, I deleted our pictures before they could be printed, but…they were still saved to the database. The machines have a backup server, they keep the data for a few hours before it’s overwritten.”
“How was that even allowed?”
“The guy that works there, I…asked him for a favor…and he obliged because well, it’s stupid…”
“Tell me.” You breathed, itching to know the story you’d been wondering for so long. His lip curled up into a reminiscent smile, “I promised to sign this album for his little sister. She really liked our band. Anyway, the guy, he let me access the backup, and…I printed them out.”
Your heart jumped at all of this effort, “Why did you do all of that after deleting them?”
He swallowed, “I changed my mind. I told you, Y/N…I wanted to remember that moment. I needed to.”
You looked away into your lap, “Oh…well…thank you for putting them in my sketchbook, but I’m sorry… I lost the pictures.”
“You what?” He looked at you. You breathed, feeling guilty, “They got ruined…so you did all of that for nothing.”
“Oh.”
There was no way for you to get them back. The summer carnival was long over, and the pictures were erased. It was strange how you two talked about them, clinging to a memory that was long gone, and he never questioned you and why you wanted them. He didn’t question why you were so fixated on them or what they could possibly mean to you. Hyunjin nodded, eyes glazing over you as if he lost deep in thought, “How did they get ruined?”
“They got wet in the rain.” You swallowed. He still seemed shocked at your previous statement, “So…you had them with you? I thought that you would throw them away, after we stopped talking…I thought you hated me.”
“You know me. I hold on to things stupidly, even if I was mad at you. Anyway, not that it matters now…” You shrugged. He nodded, like he was still in his head, and then he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it, pulling out a strip. Your eyes widened. 
He had them. In his wallet.
“You made a copy?” You couldn’t believe it. He let out a laugh, saying, “I went to a lot of effort for these, Y/N. Do you really think I wouldn’t have made a copy?”
“And… they’re in your wallet.” You realised. He swallowed, “Yeah”
“Have they been in your wallet this whole time?”
He blinked, “Yeah. In hindsight, it was a really stupid decision because if I ever lost it, anybody could have seen these. Guess I haven’t been thinking straight, but…you can have my copy”
You delicately grabbed it from him, and it was only worth a few coins but you handled it like it was worth millions. It was a treasured memory. A moment when you’d given in to each other completely, and you had been so happy then. You'd give anything to have those secret moments again, even if they stayed a secret forever. Nothing had felt as rewarding as his lips on yours, making you feel like he wanted you just as bad.
His copy was wrinkled, like he’d taken it in and out of his wallet a million times to look at it. Your copy used to be pristine, it stayed in your sketchbook but his…it was tattered with use. There were folds after every image, and you slowly moved your fingers over them. Your voice was soft, “Have you really changed your mind?”
“About what?” He asked, curiously. You looked at him, “You showed up at my doorstep. It must have been…for something.”
“I changed my mind about a lot of things…” He spoke, the dim streetlights reflecting in his eyes. Curiosity overwhelming you, your voice was a whisper, “You said you were running away too. What made you stop?”
In the darkness of the car, the shadows on his face were intense, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “That night in the car. You said that… all this time you haven't been okay, and that you still aren’t and I couldn’t stop thinking about that. You said you didn’t know the real me, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Who I was in Daejon, that’s…the best version of me, and it took me a really long fucking time to realize that. It was an asshole move that I did. I know I apologized to you, but I wanted to do it again tonight. I’m…really fucking sorry for pushing you away, Y/N. I should have just explained what was going on.” He paused, “But…I guess I’m too late since you’re leaving anyway, right?”
You looked away from him to the snow on his windshield, “Yeah, what will I do in Seoul anyway?”
“He should be the one that’s scared of you, not the other way around”
“Why would he be scared of me?”
“Because you can literally ruin him, and his career. Who knows if you’re the first person he did this to?”
“Well, clearly nobody spoke up against him yet. He’s a legend. Nothing I say will change that, and I…really don’t want to deal with the repercussions of this. I just…want to stay away from it and pretend it never happened.”
He sighed, “I have to tell you about Karina”
“What?” You looked at him.
“She’s…a friend, I guess. A couple of months ago, I asked her if she could get me in touch with Jieong. I wanted to talk to him for you, but she said she isn’t on good terms with him. Something about the way she said it makes me think that she’s been through something similar, like you, and that’s not fair. He doesn’t just get to do that and still have a fucking platform where people worship him.”
Frustration crawled from your chest, “What am I supposed to do about that, Hyunjin?”
He squeezed the steering wheel, “I don’t know, but I’ll help you figure it out. You’ve wanted to come to the city your entire life, you even hid it from your friends, you worked every summer for it. You can’t just give that up so easily. You have to stay.”
“Stay and do what, Hyunjin?”
He turned to face you, shifting closer in the little space, and his voice was quaking with nervousness, staring right into your eyes, “I don’t know. We’ll figure that out too, but…I know you, and this isn’t you. What you did, coming here all by yourself, getting into the program, that wasn’t easy. You did something most people can only dream of, and I know I didn’t express myself well, and that I should have told you sooner but I’m… I’m so fucking proud of you. My first few years here, the only reason I could survive was the members but you…you did that all by yourself. But… you’re not alone, not anymore. If you want to report Jieong, I’m going to help you. If you don’t want to do that, I’ll respect your choice.” He swallowed to breathe, lip trembling, “If you want to stay away from that drama, I’ll understand, but please…please don’t stay away from me.”
Your eyes widened, hearing his plea, and your heart was beating so loud you feared it’d burst out of your chest. Your gaze searched his, and all you saw was honesty and…fear. 
For the first time ever, you recognized the look on his face. 
He was scared of losing you. 
He had flown all the way here just to say this to you, and despite how horrible everything seemed…he was here with you. Your heart was shaking, unable to comprehend this side of Hyunjin, and you found yourself saying, “Tell me about the Christmas lights.” 
His eyes lit up, “They… they’re beautiful. They cover the whole city with them, it looks like a dream and…you have to see it. If not for long, at least stay till then, and…you can make your decision after that.”
Your eyes flickered over his form, and the desperation in his face that made your heart beat faster than it had in a while, “Okay.”
He let out a breath like he couldn’t believe your words, “Okay?”
“The lights better be worth it, Hyunjin.” You spoke, and he laughed, at your words in slight disbelief and relief. You felt a strange sense of relief too, as he drove you back.
»»————-
Hyunjin was in your apartment again. He helped you bring the suitcases up, and he was breathing heavy as he shut the door. The snow had stopped, but the temperatures had dropped more. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them. Your apartment wasn’t much warmer, but it was still a relief to be indoors, after the long night you’d had. You looked at him from across the room, standing in your little kitchen, “Do you…want tea?”
He stood out so much in this little space. He looked at you, “I can make it for us.”
“No, that’s fine…” You declined his offer, turning to your cupboard to bring out the little box of specialty tea you’d procured from a nearby market. In your peripheral, he simply nodded, looking around the living room. You’d unknowingly put as much distance between the two of you. Him being in your space made you so nervous. Earlier, you were in such a rush, but now…he could actually see things for what they were. You’d ripped your art from the walls, but other traces of you were still here. Your little tray of knick-knacks on your coffee table, the fluffy pink blanket on your couch, and the little plants that decorated the space. You hadn’t bothered packing them up, and now you were glad you hadn’t because you wouldn’t want to redecorate all over again. He stood still near the door, taking everything in. 
“You can take your coat off.” You realised belatedly. He seemed uncomfortable in it, and it was wet from the snow. He looked at you, “Right. Okay.”
You’d taken yours off, and you stood in your white sweater. He slipped his coat off, and he wore a black turtleneck inside. He seemed so awkward. You were too. You knew that things wouldn’t just go back to normal, you couldn’t just pick up where you’d left off. Instead you watched the water in the pot boil, bubbles coming to the surface. 
“Have you been to Myeondong yet?” He suddenly asked. You looked at him, stirring the water, “Uh, not yet. What is it?”
“You haven’t? It’s a popular street here. They have a lot of shops, boutiques and food. They have really good street food. I think you’d like it.”
“Do you go often?” You asked, and stopped yourself from suggesting that perhaps he could take you. He replied, “No, it’s…too crowded. I can go but the company doesn’t recommend it.”
You nodded, turning back to the pot, glad you hadn’t asked only to be shut down by him. It was stupid to think otherwise, “Right. You need their permission. Do they know you’re here?”
You heard a soft sigh, and perhaps you’d offended him, “No… I know it doesn’t seem like that but we can still do whatever we want. It’s not like we’re under constant supervision…it just feels like that because they’re not the only ones watching us, we also have to worry about the media, about…anybody with a camera who might see me.”
“I saw Baekhyun at a club once.” You blurted. His eyebrows shot up, “You did?”
“Mmh. He was making out with two girls at the bar, and nobody really seemed to care” You elaborated. He nodded, “Yeah. He’s famous enough to get away with it.”
You bit back a scoff, “Get away with what…? Kissing? You make it sound like a crime, Hyunjin.” 
You were clearly more honest with him than you had been in the past, ridiculing all the crazy stupid standards of the industry he was a part of. Since when did people like him let a commercial, capitalist corporation decide how they live their lives? It irked you that Hyunjin gave into it so easily. Why didn’t he challenge it? Why was he just settling for it?
He seemed to have no response to your accusation, and instead said, “I thought you understood why things are the way they are.”
You did understand, at a point. When he kissed you for the first time, he had very kindly explained to you that he couldn’t let this become anything more. Yet it had. The phone he’d given you lay on the countertop, and you eyed it, “It seems like you really thought things through when getting me this phone. So what exactly happened…?”
“My managers found out about you.” He stated. You glanced at him, surprised how he said it so calmly when it had been his biggest fear, “What? How?”
“Yeah, they…overheard me and the boys at a party.” He said. You blinked, “You were talking about me at a party?”
“Be careful, the water’s going to boil over.” He stepped closer. You looked back at the pot, realizing this, and turned the stove off. He continued, “And yes. It was at the album release party. I called you that night”
“Oh” You recalled, and he had been drunk on the phone that night and you had wished to be next to him, “I remember…”
“So, anyway…they found out about you that night. It was my mistake…and they gave me a bunch of documents, and I don’t know I guess I kind of freaked out.” He came to stand opposite you, crossing his arms against his chest. His sweater was so tight on him and his arms bulged when he crossed them. You couldn’t help but notice.  It was tucked into his pants, a thick belt holding them up. You leaned against your kitchen counter, facing him, “What kind of documents?”
“A…press release statement, and an NDA.” He cleared his throat, “I guess they thought we were dating.”
“Oh. So is that what happened then? Why you acted the way you did?”
“Some of it. I didn’t want to involve you in any of that legal stuff, and they didn’t believe me when I said we were just friends. Things were spiraling with Chan and the others, not that it’s their fault, but I…I guess cutting you out felt like the easiest choice to make at the moment.”
You looked away from him, a pang resonating in your chest at those words, and bitterness filled you. Maybe it was a mistake calling him here. Maybe he should leave. He noticed the drop in your expression, “Did I say something wrong?”
“It was easy?” Your voice was hollow in the little apartment, heart-shattering at his admittance.
“What?”
You glanced at him, “Cutting me out was easy for you?”
He gulped, staring at you and his eyes burned through you, as his lips parted to say, “No, it was…the hardest thing I ever did.”
For some reason beyond your understanding, you believed him. Everything in you wanted to believe him. It was a genuine response.
“The tea,” You said, realizing you’d forgotten it. You wanted to ask him a lot more about how the past months had been in your absence, but you’d take it slow. This was a lot for one night. 
He stood up straighter, “Yeah.”
You turned around, reaching into your cabinet to take out two little mugs. You didn’t have much crockery, you hardly had people over much, and Hyunjin stepped up to help you. “Is everything you own pink?” He asked, taking the little mug from you.
You looked at him, embarrassed, “Just the mugs…”
“And the blanket…” He pointed out, looking at you. A little, teasing smile tugged at his lips. You fought your own smile, “Just drink the tea, okay Hyunjin?”
He nodded, smiling still, and poured the water into yours and his, levelling them the same. He dropped the tea bags in it, and handed it to you. You grabbed it from him, loving the warmth on your hands, “Oh. This is hot.”
He agreed, testing out a sip, “It’s nice. It was freezing outside”
You nodded, “You can sit, if you want.”
“No, that’s okay.” He shook his head and walked over to your kitchen window, bending down to peer out, “Do you keep it open always?”
“Yeah. I…like the sounds,” You told him, taking another sip, but you ended up burning your tongue, and you sighed, putting your mug away, “I heard you were in Japan. How was it?”
He had his hand out the window now, tracing the melted snowflakes that lay on the ledge, and he spoke, “Tiring, but…beautiful.”
“Kairi told me you were there for an award show?”
He turned to you again, snowflakes disintegrating in his palm, “We were”
“Did you win?”
He laughed, smiling at you, “Yeah. We won…a few. Album of the year.”
“That’s really nice.” You said, warmth blooming in your chest, “You deserved it, I’m sure.”
He laughed again, “You don’t even know who we were up against.”
“Well…” You traced a circle on the kitchen slab, “I don’t, but I heard your album. The day it came out. It was…really nice, Hyunjin.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know you listened to it.” He had a little smile as he spoke. His hair fell into his face, but some of it was tied up behind his head. Him standing with the tea in his hands, in the dim lighting of your kitchen, made him look like a dream.
Your phone buzzed, dragging both your attention to it. Felix was calling. 
“Uh, I should take this.” You told him. Hyunjin’s smile fell, giving way to another neutral expression and he just nodded, “I can head out, if you want me to.”
You looked at him. You wanted him to stay but…for what? Things were awkward, and you were so overwhelmed. Plus, it’d probably be a long call explaining to Felix that you’d actually decided to stay, and that you’d only panicked beforehand. You didn’t look forward to that conversation. Hyunjin was ready to go now though, and you wished he would stay. You wished he would once again ask you to stay. All of his passion from earlier had settled into…awkwardness, like he didn’t know what to do with himself after such a heavy confession, after begging you to stay. 
You spoke, “You haven’t finished your tea.”
He looked down at his mug, and he’d been drinking extra slow or maybe he’d poured more tea for himself just so he could stay here longer and find an excuse to talk to you, “But…Yongbok…”
Your phone kept buzzing, vibrating on the counter. You didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat, “You should talk to him, he must be worried. I… think it’s best if I go, and I should be back at the dorm before morning. I don’t want to raise any suspicion. When I took the early flight here, I told the company it was because I was sick, so…they’d be expecting me to be at home.”
Your heart deflated, and you agreed, “That makes sense.”
There was such a strange bond. You could be angry at him all you wanted, but he was the only person you could be yourself around. The only one who brought you comfort, just by his mere presence, even if he said nothing. You had no idea what the two of you were right now, but you were warming up to him again, and things could almost be okay if this continued.
“But if you want me to stay here with you tonight, I can.” He added, “I don’t…want you to feel alone, not tonight.”
But what about every other night? You would always feel alone without him. Your eyebrows shot up at his suggestion, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I…I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
He nodded, “You’re right. I should go. That’s probably the right thing to do.”
“Okay.” You swallowed. He put his mug away, unfinished tea, and then approached you, “If you…need something, my number is on that phone. You can call me, anytime. Don’t worry about disturbing me or anything.”
“Yeah. Okay”
He exhaled a breath, “I’ll see you soon, then. Goodnight.”
He was so close to you that you could smell the cologne, and you could smell him. His shampoo, or whatever it was. It smelled so good. You forced a smile at him, “Goodnight, Hyunjin.”
He walked to your living room, grabbed his coat, and slipped it on. 
You stood where you were, not wanting to be that close again, not trusting yourself with what you might do and regret. He looked at you from the door, “I’m…really sorry about what happened, with…Jieong, again. You don’t deserve that. Nobody does, but…yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s…not your fault.” You told him, the constantly buzzing phone not letting you think straight. 
“I know, but…I should have been there for you. I’m sorry about that too, but…call me if you need me, please.”
Your heart was crumbling, not being able to comprehend this. After all these months of sadness, was he really in your life again? None of this felt real. It was like a dream you’d conjured up to stop yourself from being so sad, but he was here, right now in your apartment. He turned the knob, and you blurted, “Wait—”
He looked back at you immediately, eyebrows raising in hope, “Yes?”
You stepped up, eliminating the distance between you, looking up at him, “Do you really mean it?”
His eyes searched yours, “Yeah.”
“You won’t get in trouble? If I contact you? What if…your managers find out about the other phone? Will you have to block me again?”
Hyunjin stared at you, and there was a determination in his eyes that you’d never seen, and a confidence, “They won’t find out.”
“If they do?”
He swallowed, gaze falling to your mouth briefly, “I’m willing to take that risk.”
“Oh.”
Your phone kept buzzing. He spoke, “You should really take that call. He would be worried.”
“You’re right.”
He glanced at you one last time, before leaving. 
You picked up your phone, voice shaky. You told Yongbok you’d decided to stay and when he asked you why, you didn’t know what to say. All your reasoning had blended into a mush of emotions and longing. Hyunjin must have said something really convincing back in the car, but you couldn’t remember what any of it was. You just knew that it had worked. You talked to him for the rest of the night. It was chilly and you should have gotten into bed, but you lingered in the kitchen for hours. It still smelt like him.
»»————-
You were woken up by a ringtone you didn’t recognise. Sitting up in bed, a heavy feeling settled in your chest. This had been happening for the past week. Each morning was compounded by sadness. As soon as you were conscious, you’d remember what happened with Jieong. Today, disorientation overtook the sadness. 
A phone was ringing. 
The ringtone…was a stupid silly love song that you were obsessed with back in Daejon. You reached for your laptop, pausing a rerun of The Vampire Diaries. You must have fallen asleep watching it, and you couldn’t comprehend what episode you were on now, having missed most of it in your asleep. Grabbing the blanket around your shoulders, you trudged to your living room, and sure enough, your new phone was buzzing. There was only one person who had this number. It was still baffling how Hyunjin bought you a flip fucking phone just so you could talk to him.
hyunjin hey, i just wanted to make sure it was working so i guess this is a test message you yea. its working. hyunjin oh im sorry. did i wake you up? you yup  hyunjin sorry…i hope you got enough rest. how did yongbok take it? you he was disappointed. he really wanted me to come home.
hyunjin i can imagine. did he ask why you changed your mind? you why? you want me to tell him that it was because of you? hyunjin it was? you i don’t know hyunjin. im still trying to figure it out. im kind of all over the place. hyunjin i understand
You stared at his texts, and this must have been the millionth time he had said sorry, but did he even know what he was sorry for? So much had happened in his absence, and it seemed like he had no idea what his loss had meant to you. Every conversation still felt like walking on eggshells, you didn’t know what he wanted from you now. Did he still have feelings for you? The night in the Atelier, he had said everything to get you to stay, yet nothing at the same time. All of his words were so carefully constructed for you, and you wish he’d been clear about what he wanted. Your heart was so fucking torn and confused. A part of you was still pushing Hyunjin away, and perhaps your anger was still lingering. But oh, you missed him so much.
He wanted you to see Christmas. You found yourself searching through search engines for pictures of Seoul during that festive time, and it sure looked beautiful and pretty, but it didn’t seem like a big enough deal. He must really love Christmas or something. You glanced over at your suitcases that lay at the edge of your bed, second-guessing everything when your phone began ringing, and you didn’t have the heart to ignore him. You crawled over to where it lay on the nightstand, and put the phone to your ear, listening quietly.
“Hey.” He spoke, a relief in his tone, “You picked up.”
You lied back down, pulling your covers over yourself, “I did.”
“What are you doing right now?” He asked. You stared at your ceiling, “I was watching a show…” You hadn’t been the most responsive tonight or this past few days. You were having trouble figuring out what this new relationship between you and Hyunjin meant. “You…haven’t unpacked?” He asked. You shrugged, “No. I’d prefer having it ready to go if I change my mind.”
There was a pause on the other end, “Right. Well, if you do plan on leaving, I hope you don’t do it in the middle of the night again. It’s not very practical.”
He was joking about it, but for some reason it made you smile, “Yup. I’ll be sure to wait until dawn next time.”
“Back when I was at the academy, I always had my suitcase packed up under my dorm bed, and I hid it there, just in case I needed to leave one night.”
“Why would you need to leave?” You frowned. He chuckled, harshly, “Um, training was hard. I almost quit…a lot of times.”
“Why was it hidden?” You sat up. It felt weird that you’d known him all this time but never known this. He laughed, “I was too nervous to admit I was scared. If I thought of quitting, it would make the other trainees think I was weak. I couldn’t let them see that. That’s the fastest way to be targeted.”
You heart hurt at the thought of a younger Hyunjin being scared, “You never told me that…”
“Yeah, it’s…something I don’t really like to talk about.”
“I’m sorry for making you think about it.” You bit your lip, feeling guilty for reminding you of a worse time. His tone was light to reassure you, “It’s not your fault. I guess seeing you the other night reminded me…of me.”
“Yeah. Why are you up at this time though?” You glanced at your bedside clock. He spoke, “I’m waiting for the guys to get home. They’re coming back from Bangkok tonight, and they have a late flight. I hope you’ve been getting enough sleep though.”
It was a strange feeling, knowing you and him were in the same city, unable to fall asleep. This was a first. You wish you could call him over, and maybe you could help each other fall asleep. Holding him would definitely help all your worries, and you could imagine how warm his body would be to cuddle. Would he even fit in your bed and on your cheap mattress, or would you have to be on top of each other? The thought made your heart squeeze. You were so tired of holding back all these thoughts, you wanted to be able to say them out loud. There was no point keeping these feelings to yourself, but for now, it didn’t seem appropriate for this new friendship you two were discovering. You swallowed your desires, saying, “I have to go to the Atelier this week to withdraw my application.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“What?” Yes. Yes. You wanted him with you all the time.
“I just thought that you might feel anxious, and…I can wait for you. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you can let me know and I’ll take you home.”
It was funny how he always knew the right thing to say, pushing all the right buttons that made your dopamine go batshit insane. It was funny that he was perfect for you, yet you still weren’t together.
“But you can’t even be seen in public with me.” You responded, and you hated thinking with your head and not your heart. He was quick to offer a solution, “I’ll…be in my car. It’ll be fine. Nobody will know I’m there.”
You chewed on your lip, considering your options, “You don’t have to go through all of that effort. It just sounds like an inconvenience for you to be there.”
There was silence on the other end, and Hyunjin spoke, “I don’t want you to be around Kim Jieong by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine.” The idea of Hyunjin accompanying you sounded tempting, but you couldn’t take responsibility for something like that. You’d caused him enough trouble in his life as is.
»»————-
Later that week, the receptionist of the Atelier was staring at you, a disapproving look on her face, “Are you sure? Once you input this request, you can’t change your mind.”  
“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m…positive” You spoke, hands flat on the front desk. She frowned, “You’re… positive that you want to withdraw your admission?”
The words sent a pang through your chest, a cruel reminder to your predicament, but you nodded, “Yeah.”
A familiar, comforting voice suddenly rang through the lobby, and you turned to see Jeonghan run up to you, a huge portfolio bag in hand. He was a sight for sore eyes. He looked so relaxed in his bucket hat and an oversized mint-green cardigan, with a smile on his face, “Y/N! Are you feeling any better?” …Right. He thought you were sick. He thought that’s the reason you hadn’t shown up to any classes. You smiled up at him. You hadn’t seen him in a while, “Yeah. Can you just give me a second? I’ll finish up here.”
“Sure. I'm just waiting for my friend anyway.” He nodded, slinging an arm around you, pulling you close. The receptionist blinked at you, unfazed by Jeonghan’s affectionate arrival, “And you’ve spoke to Mr. Jieong about this?”
“Yes, I’m sure he knows” You spoke, “Spoken to him about what?” Jeonghan asked, looking at you. You bit your lip, glancing up at him, “I… it’s not important”
He frowned, a sassy look on his face, “That’s not suspicious at all.”
“I can’t withdraw your admission unless you get your professor's signature" The receptionist said, handing you back your documents.
“I’m sorry, what?” Jeonghan laughed. You sighed, stepping away from the front desk and he tagged along, “I’m fucking tripping, right? Or did she just say you’re withdrawing your admission?”
You shrugged, staring at the documents in your hand, “I don’t know, I can’t afford it anymore. I have to talk to Jieong. Do you know where he is?”
“Probably in his office.” He said, “But are you not going to explain what’s going on?”
“I can’t get into it right now. Will you please come with me? I don’t want to be by myself.” You asked. He spoke without hesitation, “Of course I’ll come with you.”
You felt a different kind of terror and disappointment when you entered Jieong’s office. Jeonghan was right next to you, holding your hand and he didn’t even know what was happening but you were glad to have his support. Kim Jieong was hunched over his desk, looking through what seemed like portfolios, until he noticed the two of you walk in. He smiled brightly at you as if nothing had ever happened, “What brings the two of you in?”
You stared at him, figuring out what you could possibly say. Jeonghan’s hand was on the small of your back, and he squeezed you lightly as if encouraging you, and he said, “Just accompanying a friend.”
You looked at Jieong, and the way he sat like a king in his chair, and spoke, “I…needed your signature on something.”
“Nate. Do you mind if I speak to Y/N alone?” He asked, sending him a sweet smile. Jeonghan nodded, “Sure, of course.”
You could say nothing as he left you two alone. Jieong took off his glasses, staring at you, “This is ridiculous, Y/N.”
“I can’t do the classes anymore” You told him. His eyebrows shot up, “After everything you did to get in, you’re giving up like that? I know it’s hard, but don’t be so temperamental.”
“I’m not giving up. I’ll…still paint” You mumbled. He tilt his head, “For yourself? Where is that going to get you? I just think you’re making a big mistake.”
You swallowed, “So what, I come just back to classes and pretend nothing happened?”
“Well, what did happen, Y/N?” He chuckled, “I came to check in on you. As a concerned adult, I am responsible for my student, and you just ran away. And then you decided to skip classes for some reason. Now you’ve lost the chance for the scholarship, but you can still continue in the program.”
You stared at him, not even realising that of course he’d deny everything. You wondered if you should address it, but maybe now was the only time you could. “You…you said I should convince you.”
He leaned forward on his desk, “By making your greatest painting yet, of course. How…else? You are an artist at the end of the day, aren’t you?”
“Can you please just sign my document so I can leave?” You spoke, more venom in your tone than you intended. He was pretending it didn’t happen. He frowned, clicking at his pen, “You’ve already paid for the next few months classes. You’re just going to let that go to waste?”
Were you making a big mistake? You were acting too much on emotion. Yet you couldn’t imagine being in the same room as him again, and feeling comfortable. He had ruined this for you.
“You used to be my favourite artist...” You said, almost accusatory. He stood up, the sound of his chair dragging against the wood was loud, “Used to be? Does someone else have your heart now?”
Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, Hyunjin must be calling you, and Jieong stepped around his table, walking closer to you. You hated this. You hated looking at him, and feeling this fear and anxiety when you should only feel admiration. “Please. I just need your signature and I’ll be gone. I haven’t said anything to anybody and I’m probably moving back home anyway, so please just do this for me.”
He crossed his arms, talking so nonchalantly as if this were a casual conversation, “No. If I let you withdraw, that’d be wasting your talent and potential.”
“So you want me to stay in the program?”
“That’s all I’ve wanted since day one.” He laughed, “You’re one of my most talented.”
Your head was beginning to hurt, “Then why did you cancel my scholarship…and why are you being like this?”
“I’m not being like anything. I’m just asking you to consider staying in the program. I don't know why you're so insistent on running away.” He stepped closer, and a month ago, his tone would could comforted you but not anymore. You made sure you were near the door so you could leave if you needed to, and you tried to find the least offensive way to say what you felt, “What do you mean? You made me uncomfortable the other night.”
“What did I do? Am I not allowed to check up on my students anymore?” He was acting clueless, and it pissed you off.. You felt insane like you were speaking to a child who couldn’t comprehend anything, “I don’t know…you tried to grab me.”
“No offence, Y/N, but you’re not exactly my type. In case you forgot, I’m a married man.” He held up his hand, showing you his wedding band, “If anything, you’re the one who’s been coming on to me.”
“What? No, I haven’t.”
“Really?” He didn’t seem like he believed you, and you didn’t have to justify yourself anyway. You felt frustrated by the way he was addressing this situation, making you feel crazy. “I’ve …never come on to you. That’s…insane. I have a boyfriend. I would be crazy to do that, not to mention how…inappropriate that is. Do you think I’d risk my—”
“You have a boyfriend? What you told me the other night was different.” He tilt his head. You were only going in circles and not going anywhere, as you said, “I try to keep my professional and personal life separate.”
“What’s his name?” He asked, clicking the pen in his hand, the noise driving you mad. You almost ended up saying Hyunjin’s name, until you realised you obviously couldn’t fucking do that. Hyunjin couldn’t be the convenience in this case, you don’t know what Jieong could do with that information, especially if he found out who Hyunjin really was. You swallowed, “Nate. Obviously.”
Jieong’s expression shifted, “I see.”
You weren’t sure if he believed you or not, but you wouldn’t stick around to find out, “I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you. I just need you to give me my documents, so I can leave.”
“I’ll think about it.” He spoke. Your eyes widened, “What?”
“You can come collect them later, in case I change my mind.” He said, returning to his desk and sat down nonchalantly. You stared at him in disbelief, not wanting to start an argument or make him mad. This was pointless. You left his office, feeling worse than before, informing the receptionist that you couldn’t even fucking resign right now. Everything felt harder than it should be. A hurdle for everything. Getting into this program had been impossible, and it seemed like getting out of it was just as tough. 
The phone in your bag kept buzzing, and you stepped into the bathroom, picking up his call, “What?”
“Y/N…” Hyunjin seemed surprised at your tone, “I…was trying to reach you. What happened?”
Your eyes brimmed with tears of frustration, “Nothing. I’ve had a bad day. Why were you calling me so much?”
“I was going to come to the Academy. Are you still there?”
“You’re what?” Your voice shot up. His voice was calm on the other end, “I can’t let you speak to Jieong alone.”
“Where are you right now? You can’t come. They keep a record of every visitor and… you can in trouble with your company for being here. And I already talked to him so there isn’t any point.” You spoke. It was also frustrating how you wanted Hyunjin to be there for you, but you had to think of his life and his job always first, before yourself. It had always been the case though. He was quiet for a minute and then said, “You were alone with him? Where are you right now?”
“Nate was with me.” You said, staring at yourself in the mirror, and you looked like shit, in a hoodie you had worn for three days straight, “He’s…waiting for me outside.”
“I see…” Hyunjin responded, “I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you.”
You sighed, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Hyunjin. I’m fine. Jieong was absolutely useless though. He didn’t even let me withdraw! He was…being cryptic, and frustrating. I had to tell him Nate’s my boyfriend just to get him off my back.”
Hyunjin’s response was dry, “Oh. Okay.”
“I mean… I was lying.” You were stupidly justifying yourself, and he mumbled, “Yeah. Makes sense…I haven’t been able to focus on anything else but you since I woke up, so I just thought it’d be better if I came over there.”
“You don’t have to leave work for me, Hyunjin." You suddenly felt guilty, "I’m sorry we haven’t talked much. I just haven’t been in the best state of mind.”
“I just…want you to know that I’m here, if you ever want to talk about it. I’m sorry that you’re having a bad day.”
“Don’t worry about it, it's not your fault or anything.” You mumbled. He said, “I’ve been thinking and…I want to take you somewhere. I think it’ll take your mind off things.”
The request excited you, but coming from Hyunjin’s mouth, you couldn’t really believe it, “Somewhere in the city?”
“Yeah.”
“But is that allowed? For you to be seen with me in public?” It was the only question you had. You didn’t mean for it to sound so cold. It came out harsher than intended. Allowed as if Hyunjin was a child who needed permission to do anything he desired. He was quiet, and you feared you’d crossed the line, but then he suddenly said, “I…asked my manager for permission.”
At those words, your eyes widened. That was certainly something you hadn’t expected. “And what did you say?”
He let out a nervous chuckle, “I may have lied and told him my cousin was visiting from America and that it was my… responsibility to show them around the city. He obviously can’t stop me from hanging out with family, even if it’s in a crowded place.”
“So…I have to pretend to be your cousin?”
He laughed, “No. God, no. You don’t have to pretend to be anything. You can…be yourself. It’s just gonna be me and you.”
“Really?” You didn’t know what this was. Hyunjin was…definitely opening up to you in a way he hadn’t in months. You had no idea what to make of it. Perhaps this meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he was only being friendly to make up for his behavior.
“Yeah. Is that okay with you? If it’s just…us?”
Just you and him. You’d craved for him this whole time. He seemed nervous since you hadn’t answered, “Y/N?”
“I’m here,” You said. He must have expected that you hung up. “Oh,” He replied, his tone relieved at hearing your voice. 
“So where did you want to take me?”
“You said that you haven’t been to Myeon-dong, and… that’s a crime. I was hoping to show you around.” He added, “But I… don’t know. I would understand if you were still pissed about… what I did, and if you don’t want to go.”
“I’m not pissed…” You thought about his words, “I’m just kind of confused, Hyunjin.”
“About me?”
“No, actually, let’s not discuss this over the phone…things get misinterpreted and… I’m really tired right now,” You mumbled. Hyunjin suddenly wanted to hang out with you again and this was a lot to unpack and shouldn’t be done now. He agreed, “You’re right. I'm sorry again that I couldn’t see you. I really didn’t want you to feel like you had to do that alone. Because I’m here, for you. I know I haven’t been but…yeah.”
When he said stuff like that, your stomach twisted. You’d been trying to maintain a line between you and him, a boundary based on all of the recent events, yet it felt futile. Your voice dropped, “Yeah, thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
You nodded, and a part of you already felt lighter at this proposition, “See you then, Hyunjin.”
You stepped out, making your way to the entrance and Nate spotted you. He ran up to you, pulling you into a half-hug, “How’d it go with Jieong? I can’t believe he kicked me out of his office.”
You shrugged, squinting under the sun, “I may have told him you were my boyfriend…”
He laughed, a smirk on his face, “What? Is that your way of asking me out?”
It was kind of nice that he had no idea what was going on. You could still pretend that things were normal. You felt embarrassed, pushing your hands in your pockets, “Jeonghan…no.”
“I know. I know. I’m kidding” He smiled, then took off his bucket hat, placing it on your head to protect you from the sun, “You need to get yourself a pair of sunglasses.”
“Thanks” You smiled. It was nice to be distracted from your disastrous exchange with Jieong. He looked around at all of the art students walking to classes, then back to you, “So are you coming back to class on Monday? You know it sucks without you, right?”
“Really? I take it you guys miss me a lot then.” You smiled. He rolled his eyes, “Of course I do. Honestly, you were my favorite thing about it, especially this last semester. Jieong’s got a stick up his ass for some reason. Anyway, me and Minnie miss you. Well, me more than her. I don’t have anybody to teach me your crazy ass techniques anymore. I mean, you’re the only one who can make me get my hands willingly dirty and paint with them.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him, “They weren’t crazy. I thought you enjoyed painting with your hands. You’re a dick.”
He grinned, tapping your hat, “Only for you.”
You then noticed the black and gold bags at his feet, “So, what’s in the bags?”
“Unfortunately, nothing for you.” He sighed. “I was shopping for a tuxedo. Actually, now that you're here, I did have a crazy favor to ask you.”
You looked up at him, in anticipation, “Yeah? What’s the favour?”
“My sister, she lives in Busan, I told you, right? Well anyway, she’s getting married next Saturday, which is crazy in itself but…long story short, you’re coming with me. There’s no way I’m surviving that alone.”
“You want me to be your plus-one?” You asked. He shrugged, “I mean, you already told Jieong you’re my girlfriend…so it doesn’t hurt to keep up appearances does it?”
“I mean, I have to think about it. Do I have to dress up fancy and all?” You asked. He nodded, “Yeah, a formal dress preferably, but if anyone can pull that off, it would be you. You being by my side would actually make it bearable. Will you think about it and let me know? If you absolutely can’t go, that’s okay, I’ll take Minnie along, but… I’d…really prefer if it was you. After all, I can’t make out with Minnie when I’m drunk.”
You rolled your eyes, “It’s almost like you’re trying to convince me not to go.”
He smiled, “Please let me know about it. I gotta go meet my friend now. I’ll hopefully see you next Saturday?”
Maybe going to a fancy wedding would take your mind off things, and you smiled as he kissed your cheek goodbye, “No promises.”
»»————-
This was the Seoul you’d seen in the movies. It’s as if you’d stepped into a full spread of a magazine that you’d fawn over in your school library as you stared at Myeon-dong street. A seemingly endless alley of shops, food, and anything a person could want for. It was the afternoon, and it seemed to be the busiest time as throngs of people filtered in and out through the streets. Your gaze fell upon families, couples, and teenagers filling the streets still in their school uniforms.
There was a newspaper stand set up next to you, selling magazines and papers of all kinds, it even had some pop merchandise, random objects with pictures of idols on them, ranging from socks to mugs to paper fans. It was bizarre. The lady at the shop smiled at you, “Looking for something in particular?”
“Um, no, I was just looking.” You shook your head. She was dressed really well, and she smiled at you, “What’s your favorite group, sweetie?”
Your eyes meandered over the merchandise, and for a moment you considered saying the name of Hyunjin’s band but quickly decided against it, “Uh, I don’t listen to…” Just then, a teenage girl and her friend came behind you, filming a vlog of some kind, and the lady asked them the same question, her attention switching in a millisecond away from you, “Looking for something?”
To your surprise, the girl enthusiastically nodded, “Yes, please! Could we get a Hwang Hyunjin and Changbin necklace?”
Your eyes widened, and you stepped away from the stall to hide your reaction. You could see the lady reach into her supplies, pulling out several decorative items, along with t-shirts and necklaces. Hyunjin was on half of them, and a strange sense of pride and wonder filled you. That must be so fucking weird for him, but you suppose it also must be satisfying to be this famous. The teenage girl immediately reached for the Hyunjin necklace, a pendant with his name carved out in silver, and it was actually pretty, and not tacky, and a part of you wanted to get one for yourself but he’d think you were crazy if you did. She immediately put it around her neck, a big smile on her face. You stepped away, a strange jealousy building in your stomach.
It was almost the time he said he’d meet you here, so you walked to the junction, hands pushed into your deep coat pockets, looking around for the familiar face.
In the midst of the crowd, he was waiting for you.
He stood tall in a suede trench coat, a turtleneck, and a bag slung around him. He wore a black mask, obscuring his face from the onlookers, but people were still looking at him. Of course they were. He didn’t need to show his face to be the most beautiful man in the room.
He was looking around too, and you waited for him to notice you. Would you stand out to him too, like he did to you? Could he pick you out of a crowd of hundreds?
You pulled your phone out of your pocket, wondering if he would call and ask where you were. But then he noticed you. Even in this distance, you saw his eyes light up in recognition, and immediately, he stepped ahead, pushing through the moving crowd to get to you. You waited where you were, as he got closer and closer. Your heart pound to a different beat now. You had no idea what today would be about or what any of this meant to him, and one of the reasons you’d agreed to meet was to find out. He finally approached you, and his eyes crinkled as you imagined the hidden smile under his mask, “You’re here…”
You nodded, looking up at him, “Have you been waiting long?”
He shook his head, voice muffled, “No, don’t worry about it.”
You wish you could see him without the mask, but too many people here could recognise him. “There’s a couple of places I wanna show you.” He said, gesturing you to move. You walked next to him, and the tight space pushed you two together, arms brushing mistakenly. You looked around, “There’s a lot of people here”
“Mmh. It’s one of the busiest times of the day.”
“Why did you pick this time then?” You glanced up at him. He looked at you, “Well…Right now, we can just blend into the crowd. If there’s less people, we’re more likely to be noticed, and draw attention.”
So he had thought of that, and he was right. You weren’t really looking at other people because there were just far too many to keep track of, so they likely wouldn’t be looking at you too. To them, you just seemed like a normal couple on a day out. Your arms brushed against each other the whole time, and his hand hovered over your back. You kept sneaking glances at him, and it was harder because you were moving so fast, and he was taller and there was only so much of him you could see. Every time there was a change in the crowd, he’d quickly switch sides, grabbing your arm to keep you close. When you looked at him, his eyes crinkled as he tried to justify, “Just making sure I don’t lose you.”
The words sent a flutter through you, and you asked him, trying to be heard over the cacophony of sounds, “Did you know shops here sell merchandise with you?”
He looked back at you, distracted. He was seemingly too focused on finding his way through the crowd, “Um, yes, I’ve seen a few. Wait… this place has the best fried chicken, you need to try it. If we come later in the evening, there will be a really long wait for it. Changbin once made me wait two hours for it.”
“Oh, wow. Was it worth it?” You asked, stopping at what looked like an inconspicuous stall. He laughed, “I don’t know about that, but I’d do anything for Changbin, so I definitely wasn’t complaining. Anyway, the last time I was here, I could’t help but wonder what you’d think of it.” He then ordered a plate for the two of you, and you watched the vendor prepare it. It already smelled amazing, and you eagerly waited, hands in your pockets, “So do you come here with the guys often?”
He shook his head, “No, we haven’t gone out in a while. We’ve been so busy with promotions….and the album, haven’t really found time to relax.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds stressful. Do you not get any vacations?”
The vendor had finished preparing the chicken and was now seasoning it, sprinkling all kinds of spices over it. Hyunjin shrugged, “I think I used up my lifetime of vacations in Daejon.”
“Right.” You recalled all of his months there, “I hope you still got paid for it.”
He shook his head, face buried in the front of his coat, “It was still worth it though. I got to meet you.”
You blinked, wondering how and why he said such soul-changing stuff so casually. Like at a fucking chicken stall on the sidewalk. How did these things come so easily to him, but love so difficulty? You shrugged, “Right. I guess that’s why you didn’t need me anymore when you came back home.”
It was a joke, obviously, but Hyunjin’s eyebrows crinkled, “Y/N…”
“Oh, look, our food is ready.” You changed the topic, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing it up, and not wanting this to be awkward. He didn’t protest at your lack of subtlety, “Yeah. Come on, we can go into this alley so we’re not in everyone’s way.”
You followed him into a nearby alleyway. It was less crowded, so Hyunjin seemed more at ease at not being recognized yet you could see he was still a bit on edge as he kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with any passerby. He leaned against a brick wall, and you stood opposite him, savoring some of the chicken. He asked you, “You like it?”
To be honest, you couldn’t even process what you were eating. It was kind of hard to focus on other things when he was here, and this could have been the best chicken in the world but your internal monologue ran on a loop of Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. It was annoying, and you wish you could focus on the environment you were in, on the other people around you, on the street food. But you nodded, your crazy urge to be a people-pleaser and said, “Yeah, this is so fucking good. Are you gonna have some?” 
He shook his head, laughing, “I’m good. I’m just glad you like it.” You hummed, “Thank you for making me try it…”
You hated that the mask obscured his face. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you anxious. He didn’t say anything for a while as you ate, like he was building up the courage to ask, until he finally did say, “So…how are you feeling, really? And please…don’t just say you’re fine. I want to know how you’re really doing. And how you’ve been the past few months. I’ve been wondering that for a while.”
Your eyes searched his, and that certainly didn’t seem like street side conversation but it was all you had, “That’s a pretty loaded question, Hyunjin, but I guess it’s good to be out of my apartment. Thanks for bringing me out here. I was kind of getting sick of my routine.”
He nodded, “I can imagine. You hate routines.”
You laughed, surprised that he knew that about you even though at this point, he probably knew you better than any human in the world, “Yeah.”
“Did you tell Nate that you’re thinking of withdrawing? I hope he convinced you to not do that.” He asked, hope in his tone. You shook your head, “No, he was in a really good mood, I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“He seems like a really good friend, and I know I didn’t really have the chance to talk to him, but he seems cool.”
“Yeah. He definitely helped. Seeing him had definitely put me at ease.” You reached for another piece of fried chicken, “When I was about to go back home, he didn’t really even cross my mind…but I realized, yeah, it would have been unfair to him if I just left without a word. I would definitely miss him. He was…such a big part of my last few months. I wouldn’t have adjusted to living in the city without him.”
Hyunjin was quiet, and then he spoke, “What do you mean?”
“Well,” You laughed, feeling embarrassed at the memory, but Hyunjin was the one who wanted to know all about your life the past few months, “I was so lost when I moved here. Everything seemed so…scary, but he made it easier for me.” Hyunjin was still staring at you so you elaborated, finding the need to explain, “He…made me meet his friends, he took me out to some really cool bars, and going to class was scary but he’s probably the reason I didn’t go back home sooner… now that I think of it.”
“Oh.” He pushed off the wall, choosing to walk along the alley, and you followed him, trying to keep up with his footsteps. Little hair salons and souvenir shops surrounded you. As you walked, you observed how your feet fit in the cobblestones just so you wouldn’t feel so nervous around him as you replayed the last few months in your head, “Yeah. Wow, I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until you asked. I mean…he had no reason to be so nice to me, especially because…this is embarrassing to talk about—”
“What?” Hyunjin asked, looking at you. It felt weird to think of all those months, but you were only talking about this because he asked. You’d been crying almost every day, because of…well, him. Everything had seemed so hopeless without him in your life, and now…you had bigger problems. Such as your dreams of a lifetime being absolutely fucked and burnt into the dust. So perhaps you had made your peace with what Hyunjin had done. Nothing could have made him change his mind, and there was…no point crying about it. 
You snapped back to reality, realising he was waiting for you to answer and you wonder how honest you should be. Something about how detached he’d been the past few months made it easier for you to open up, “It’s embarrassing because I was really all over the place. I was kind of…depressed? I don’t even know, but…Nate didn’t mind. He was so nice about it.” You then laughed, suddenly remembering the blind date Minnie had set you up on, “Oh, and I had this horrible fucking date, man it was so bad. Some people can be such assholes.”
“You were…depressed?”
You looked up at him, realizing how serious that could sound, “Um, I mean…that’s a big word…I guess.”
“Why…?” He looked at you, confused, eyebrows knitted together in sadness, “You weren’t happy about the apprenticeship?”
The happiness of that could never have compared to the sadness of losing him. You’d really dug yourself into a hole. You wondered how to say this without making it all about him. How could you tell him that he was your favourite thing in the world? You swallowed, “Uh…I…I was kind of lonely, I guess.”
Hyunjin stared at you, something flashing through his eyes, and it looked like…regret, or guilt. You immediately felt bad, gut sinking. He looked away from you, and cleared his throat, blinking, “So…you had a date? With Nate?”
“No, this other guy,” You explained, “A date with Nate would have been a million times better, but no, it was with this total ass. He…just wanted to get into my pants, I guess, and on top of that he also had horrible taste in beer. Nate did rescue me from it.”
“So…then what happened between you and him? At the party, you were…” He trailed off, staring at the ground as he walked, “You guys looked close.”
“I don’t know. We were just…fucking around. It doesn’t mean anything. He kissed me, and I guess that’s how it started.” 
Hyunjin glanced at you, “He kissed you?”
Why did it even matter right now? You clarified, “Technically, I kissed him…after my terrible date. And he returned it. Then, I guess we just…were casual friends who kissed.”
“Oh…Okay” 
“Yeah. You missed a huge chunk of my life.” You chuckled, and you’d finished all the chicken, so he threw the plate away in a trashcan. He then asked, “So…what else did you do in the city ever since you’ve been here?”
“I…uh…not much.” 
“What were your favourite moments?” He asked, “You must have had some good ones, right?”
You drifted off, trying to remember the times you’d been happy, and it was weird how you couldn’t think of many, “Well, when I got accepted. I was the happiest then. Then…when Jieong told me that I was talented, and when my paintings got complimented on in class. I was happy when I discovered a thrift store near my house, and…they had the cutest skirt in my size. It looked really cute on me.”
Hyunjin must be smiling, because you could see his eyes crinkle over the mask, “And?” 
“And…I was happy when I was with Kairi. We found this cute cafe we would go to. They had these really, really good sandwiches. I was happy when…” You stopped.
“When?”
You looked up at him, pushing your hands in your pockets, “When…I saw you, in the storage closet.”
He was quiet, processing your words, and then he said, “We’re almost here. Come on.”
You thought you’d just been walking aimlessly, but it seemed like Hyunjin had a destination in mind this whole time. There was a brick building hidden between K-marts and department shops. It looked abandoned. “Can we even go in?” You asked. He laughed, “Of course.” There was an incognito entrance, hidden from the public as you stepped in through the doors, “Are you sure? It feels like we’ll get murdered in there, Hyunjin.”
He glanced at you, “That’s a funny way of saying you don’t trust me.” 
You shrugged, playing along because it felt nice to pretend that things were normal again, “So, if there was a serial killer in there, you would fight him for me?”
He let out another laugh, looking at you, “I obviously would, and no there isn’t anybody in there, but maybe I should be asking if you would do that for me?”
“Nah, I think I’d sacrifice you so I could get away.” You smiled at him, and he laughed as you entered a fancy corridor. There was a huge map on the wall with different levels marked on it, and far too much detail than you’d expect. You still had no idea where you were. You tried to read it but Hyunjin walked ahead, and you caught up to him asking, “So…where are we?”
“It’s this…really cool concept store, for mainly streetwear. It’s one of a kind, all their clothes are inspired from the 90s and the coolest part is nobody really knows who the designer is. People speculate and such, but it’s anonymous and because their identity is hidden from the world, they can pretty much get away with anything, controversial designs and stuff. Ever since my stylist told me about, I knew I had to bring you here. It’s like…if Banksy made fashion, you know?”
The thoughtfulness of that didn’t miss you. He’d been thinking of you for a while, it seemed, and it looked like he was right. The first room you stepped in was already breathtaking. Cool technology surrounded the open floor plan, a suspended spaceship hung from the center, and clothes of vivid colors were displayed on racks amongst art installations and paintings. It seemed more like a museum than a fashion store. “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding.” You spoke, taking in all the futuristic displays,  “How much are these clothes even worth?”
Hyunjin laughed, “Just the same as any other high-fashion store.”
“So… insanely expensive,” You mumbled, running your hand through the variety of jackets hung up. They were the coolest designs you’d seen, and the precision that must have gone into designing them was obvious. Each had something that made it unique: different fabric patches, pockets of uncanny shapes, and neon colors that you couldn’t imagine pulling off. But in Seoul, there was an outfit for everybody, and these definitely weren’t for you. Each of them felt expensive to the touch, and you probably shouldn’t be touching them like so. 
“I wore something like this for a stage performance last month, and I was so stressed about ruining the sequins the entire time. Do you like any?” Hyunjin asked you, browsing through them too. You laughed, “Um yes, I love them, but I shouldn’t.”
“This one is really cool,” He spoke, eyeing a purple jacket, with lavendar fur on the neckline and sleeve loops. It looked like something aristocrats or royals would wear in Buckingham palace or something, so you laughed when Hyunjin asked, “Do you want to try it on?”
“If I get a speck of dirt on it, would I have to sell my soul?” You raised an eyebrow. Hyunjin scoffed, “You’re allowed to try them on. Come on. There’s a mirror somewhere here.” He grabbed the jacket off the shelf so casually, walking through the maze of displays until you reached a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror. He held the jacket up to you, and you couldn’t take this seriously, “That is so not me. It would look good on like Gigi Hadid or something.”
He rolled his eyes, “Just try it on.”
“Sure. I’ll humour you this once, but after this, I get to pick something ridiculous for you to wear.” You took off your winter coat. Hyunjin grabbed it for you, and you slipped on the purple jacket. Immediately, it felt like you were wearing millions of dollars, rich and thick fabric. It hugged your body perfectly. You turned to the mirror, running your hands over the fur, it was so soft. Wearing this would definitely make anybody feel confident.
Hyunjin hadn't said anything yet. Your eyes darted to his, and he was staring at your reflection. His eyebrows were raised, eyes wide, but you couldn’t see the rest of his face and that bothered you. You held your arms up, turning to the side to observe it, “It’s like a work of art.”
“Yeah. You make it look like one.” Hyunjin spoke. You glanced at him, feeling shy suddenly. He was so observant, so fixated on you.
“Well. Anyway. It’s my turn.” You walked to another section of the store. Hyunjin followed you through all the abstract installations. There must be a narrative behind it, but you were just happy appreciating the visuals. Silver water fountains, clothing displays that moved on their own... everything about this place screamed future. It was inspiring just to be in here. Hyunjin was sifting through a rack of streetwear. A sunglasses case rest next to it, and you stared at them, grabbing a design off the rack.
“You should try this,” You told him, offering him the glasses. His eyebrows shot up and he laughed, “Really? You don’t think they’re tacky? The gold borders?”
“I think they’d look good on you” You mumbled, but kept them back based on his reaction, “But fine, you don’t have to try them if you don’t want to—” 
“I’ll try them, Jesus” He interrupted you with a laugh and put them on. There were mirrors everywhere and he looked at himself. You wonder if he fell in love with himself too each time he saw his reflection. He pushed his hair back, a smirk playing at his lips, “Huh. I actually kind of like that. Makes me feel like a rockstar.”
He sparkled under the store lights. You’d only wanted him to wear it as a joke, but he actually made them look so good. He looked expensive, and... so out of your league. He was absolutely beautiful, and you mumbled, “You are kind of a rockstar. You should get them.” 
He glanced at you, eyebrow raised as if it was even a question. Those glasses seemed to be made for his perfect face. He pulled them off, observing the frame, “You think?”
You just nodded, not trusting what you might blurt. Probably something embarrassing along the lines of how hot he made them look, even though they were just fucking glasses, but him in them was doing something unnatural to your body.
“I can’t remember the last time I bought something for myself” He stated, pushing the glasses up over his head. You leaned against the mirror, looking up at him, “Is it because you always have to wear sponsorships and stuff?”
He nodded, “Yeah. It’s easier in a way because I don’t have to pick out much of my clothes.”
“That’s such a first-world, rich person problem, Hyunjin. I can’t believe you just said that.” You rolled your eyes. He laughed, “Hey, I’m just being honest with you, sorry.”
“You’re pretty lucky. I wish someone would buy my clothes for me” You sighed, “Unfortunately, I don’t have a stylist, and a make-up artist, and a personal shopper and a manager—”
“Stop” Hyunjin laughed, interrupting you, “I think what you pick out for yourself is pretty fantastic.”
“Yeah, I know it is.” You smiled, “So, is there any other cool stuff in this store?”
He nodded, stepping back from the mirror, and his hand fell to your lower back again as he guided you, “Yup. There’s a cafe. That’s where I was initially going to take you until you got distracted by all the jackets.”
The cafe was a beautiful rooftop establishment, looking out at the views of Seoul. You had to hold back your gasp when you walked in. There were hardly any people in, just a few men that looked like CEOs seated at far tables. Your eyes fell to the menu that hung over the counter, where every bakery item was easily more than 30,000 won. Everything was so expensive, and probably explained why this place wasn’t buzzing with people. Not everyone could afford this taste. “You should try the Pain au Chocolat. It’s one of the best in the city.” Hyunjin nudged you. You looked at him, “That statement indicates that you’ve somehow tried all the chocolate croissants in the city.”
He laughed, “Not nearly. I come here with Changbin and Jisung often though. A few weeks ago, I tried it and I just…kept imagining how much you’d like it.” 
You looked back at the menu, feeling giddy at the thought of being on his mind so often, in your absence. You stepped up to the counter, ordering two coffees and croissants. You’d come all this way after all.
“Hey, I got this.” Hyunjin said, stopping you before you could pay. But if he paid for your coffee, it would increasingly make this feel more like a date, which this wasn’t. You couldn’t make yourself feel delusional by thinking it was. 
“Don’t worry about it.” You dismissed him, handing your card to the cashier. He frowned, clearly not happy with the outcome, but you wouldn’t let him buy it for you. The cashier also seemed expensively dressed, with good taste, and she input your order and then said, “Unfortunately ma’am, you can’t wear the store merchandise around.”
You realised you were still wearing the lavendar fur jacket, loving the feel of it on you just like Hyunjin had loved it on you. Gosh, you wish you could never take it off just to see the look in his eyes again. Except you weren’t just playing dress-up. This was probably worth hundreds of thousands. You felt so embarrassed, and you immediately reached to unbutton it, “Shit. I’m so sorry…I can go put it back now.”
Were they going to charge you a lot for this mistake?
“Oh. It’s not merchandise, ma’am. We’re taking it home.” Hyunjin interrupted, and then looked at you, “You can keep it on.”
The cashier just smiled, “Oh, of course. My mistake then. Your order will be out in a few minutes. Have a nice day!”
You gaped at Hyunjin, “What?”
He laughed, tugging your arm to pull you away from the counter.
“Are you insane?”
“Oh, don’t hurt my feelings, Y/N” He joked, leading you to a table in the corner. He sat down, comfortably stretching his legs. You were still processing it, “This cost a fortune, you can’t just do that on a whim. I’m not okay with that.”
He sighed, gesturing at you to sit opposite him, “Come on. It’s not a big deal”
You crossed your arms, “Is this a way to get back at me because I paid for our coffees?”
He laughed, “Only you’d think someone’s getting back at you if they buy you a gift.”
You frowned, sitting down, “Well, I don’t like feeling like I owe someone something. This is far too expensive and I did nothing to earn that”
“Hey. You don’t owe me anything” He leaned forward, “I wanted to buy that for you. You can’t stop me.”
“Why?”
“Because…you look beautiful in it. It’d be a shame for anybody else in the world to wear it, and…” He looked embarrassed, “Because I saw that a few weeks ago and imagined it on you."
His compliment made your heart jump, and you wish you weren't so weak and crumbling over a boy of all things, but you didn’t want to feel ungrateful, “Oh….Thank you…Hyun.”
“So… you’re not mad at me then? You haven't called me that in a while.” He laughed. Your voice fell, touching the expensive material of the jacket, “No…I really love it. It’s beautiful.”
His smile grew, eyes crinkling, “I know. You look great in it.”
You eyed his mask, and that certainly could't be comfortable and you felt brave enough to finally say, “Are you going to wear that thing all day? I can’t even see you...but I guess I understand if you need to.” 
He looked around the cafe. He must have deemed it safe, because there weren’t many people on this floor, so he reached up, slipping his mask out finally. And god, he looked so fucking perfect under it. His nose was red from the cold. His lips were just as plush as you remembered, and they curled up into a beautiful smile for you, “Is that better for you?”
“I hate that you have to hide yourself.” 
His eyes widened just a tad, and perhaps he hadn’t expected you to be so candid, but you just nodded, “Don’t make a big deal out of it or something. Everybody in this country is in love with your face.”
The waitress then brought a tray of your coffees, and croissants, placing them between you. The view of Seoul from here was beautiful. Your heart soared, watching the sun fall on him, and he slipped on his brand-new sunglasses. They really did make him look like a rockstar, with the reflection of the glass buildings in them. He pushed his hair back, but it was a useless gesture because the strands fell back into place, bangs covering his forehead, and his hair had grown out much more. You looked around at the few businessmen in the cafe and asked, “So your managers really don’t mind that you’re out with a girl…on a random weekday?”
He nodded, cutting into the croissant with his knife, “Yeah of course. They don’t have to know.”
You sipped your coffee and then realized what he’d said, “Wait, what? They don’t know you’re here?”
Hyunjin glanced up at you, mid-bite into the croissant, chocolate creaming his lips, “What?”
“You told me you asked him for permission, so you wouldn’t get into trouble.” You stated. Realization sank into his features, and he nodded, “Um, yeah. I did”
Clearly, he was lying…and the fact that Hyunjin lied to his company about today put you on edge. He clearly noticed that. A sigh left his mouth, “Please don’t worry about it, Y/N…I thought everything through. I wanted you to have a good day.”
You couldn’t understand. A few months ago, Hyunjin let go of everything just so it wouldn’t risk his job, and now he was willingly doing this? What changed? Was it that he noticed your desperation to leave and thought he was at fault? Was he doing this all out of guilt, because he asked you to stay? You wouldn’t get any answers out of him right now, so you just decided to enjoy the chocolate croissant. 
“I am having a good day, don’t worry.” You remembered, “By the way I saw some shops out front. They had a lot of merchandise with familiar faces on them…”
“Oh no. What did you see?” He laughed, covering his face in his hands. He was so cute. You smiled, trying not to get distracted by how adorable he looked, “It was cool but I just… couldn’t wrap my head around it. How does it feel having your face literally everywhere?”
He took a long sip of his cappuccino, “Well…it takes some getting used to, but after a point you do.”
“I don’t think I could get used to my face being plastered everywhere, and people having it in their homes and stuff? It makes me anxious just thinking about it” You shuddered at just the thought, “You’re very brave.”
“Well, yeah you’d have your artwork in people’s homes instead.” He shrugged. You looked up at him, surprised, “That’s so far in the future, I can’t comprehend that”
“Maybe I could be your first buyer” He leaned back in his chair, “Would youu sell me one of your paintings for…a half a million won?”
“If you spend that much money on my shitty paintings, people would definitely think you’re sleeping with the artist.” You mumbled. He lift the mug to his mouth, eyes on yours over the rim, as he drank, “I suppose.”
If you could record your heartbeat in the moment, it’d cross inhumane levels surely. You stared at him, fighting the urge to smile, “Unfortunately, you’re fresh out of luck. All my paintings are in the trash as of last week…including the one I was actually proud of…the one I was working on for the prize.”
He grimaced, “Can I ask you what that painting was about?”
“Um. It was just based off this scientific theory… it’s silly.” You felt shy explaining the concept — it was completely inspired by the things Hyunjin had told you in the comfort of the night skies of Daejon. He frowned, putting away his food, “Tell me”
“I remember you telling me that there weren’t any stars in the city, and I was wondering…what would happen if there weren’t any for real. At all. In the world.”
He seemed intrigued, “And what did you find?”
“Just a bunch of theories, but… it’d make the universe a pretty bleak place. Most life would cease to exist…and I was trying to paint the ruins of the universe, or what would be left when everything was gone. I was trying out this new watercolour technique, for it to be abstract enough that it was up for interpretation but also concrete enough that…people felt despair when they looked at it.”
“That’s…depressing.” He blinked. You laughed, “I guess. You inspired me, I suppose.”
“Well, it seems like that painting would have been really beautiful. I’m sorry you lost it, but…I don’t understand why you threw the others away. I thought…you liked keeping all your old paintings, and holding onto those memories…”
For some reason you found yourself being so truthful with him, digging deep into your psyche to how you felt, “Man, I don’t know…everything in my life kind of feels stupid and meaningless right now. I wasted years of my life trying to get into that apprenticeship, only to basically be kicked out one semester in… it’s funny. And now I’m sitting in my apartment in my dream city with nothing to do. I guess holding onto things just feels stupid now. There’s no point. I don’t even feel like painting anymore.”
“You… shouldn’t feel that way, Y/N.” He suddenly sounded so sad, looking at you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be sad anymore, you’d already lost everything. You shrugged, “It’s fine honestly… I’m sure I’ll eventually find some new dream to die over. I’m obsessive like that. I know there’s something out there…that’s meant for me. Probably.” The conversation seemed to have changed the mind though so you apologised, “Sorry for killing the mood.”
“You didn’t.” He responded instantly, and there was a deep emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place. You’d seen glimpses of it before, in moments when he’d kissed you, when you’d talk to him back in Daejon, but you’d never seen it like this. It was ever-present now, and prominent, like he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. Your eyes traveled over his face, and he was gazing at you in a way that made you want to curl up into yourself. It was too much.  
You bit into the croissant, aware of the messy chocolate on your lips, and glanced in the window hoping to catch a bit of your reflection. You wanted to make sure you looked fine, especially sitting across someone who looked perfect, croissant crumbs on his lips. No wonder his face was in every shop here. You were seriously sitting across Hyunjin on a rooftop cafe in Seoul, for real. It felt like a dream. This wasn’t a date. Yet everything about it felt like one. It was hard to wrap your head around this reality. Hyunjin was draped in sunset light and casually sipped his coffee, looking at you like that — like he was simultaneously trying to figure you out, and like you also held all the answers to the universe.The sky was a beautiful hue of pink and orange, casting a bright glow over the entire top floor. He looked out the window, and you observed him, and then he swiftly reached into his little book bag, taking out a camera. He must want to capture the beauty of the sunset, but instead he surprised you, “Can I please take a picture of you?”
You stiffened up, “Right now..?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, pushing his sunglasses up so he could look through the camera viewfinder. You glanced at your reflection again, and you looked fine but your lipgloss was smudged. You felt conscious, “Do you mind if I fix my lip—”
“No” He immediately interrupted, sitting up, “I mean… Don’t fix it, please. I like it the way it is.”
You frowned, “But it’s all messy…”
“I know.” 
His gaze pierced yours, sending shivers down your spine. And hell, you were supposed to be mad at him for a million things but you don’t think anybody had ever made you feel this beautiful before and he hadn’t even said anything. It was just the way he looked at you, the depth of his gaze, the intensity in his expression and his eagerness to capture you like this.
“Oh…okay” You nodded, and his lips spread into a satisfied smile. He lift the camera up, snapping a few and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wish you were capturing the way Hyunjin looked at you instead. You could be a hundred years old and never get tired of that expression. His smile had given way to concentration, and he continued taking pictures of you. You wonder if you would ever get used to how he made you feel. 
You think all of this had to mean something. You weren’t stupid. He’d been flirting with you the entire day, and you hadn’t stopped him, or questioned it. After all, his way of talking didn’t feel like anything new. It was just how he used to be with you. Every compliment spoken so… easily and tenderly. After being away from his adoration for months, it felt like being plunged into an ice-cold bath. He had no qualms about being too direct or straightforward. He wasn’t sugarcoating anything. Had he finally given up on the charade of not wanting you in his life? Because right now, you were very much in his life. He put the camera down as if he’d heard your private thoughts, “Thank you for today. I was worried before that I had somehow ruined everything…” He paused, as if he was struggling with his thoughts, “With you. I know I dug myself into that hole…but…it feels good to be here with you. Feels like nothing changed since summer.”
Your heart constricted at those words, making you feel uneasy, but you smiled, because he seemed so happy in the moment. Except you didn’t want it to be like summer anymore though. Summer was beautiful, but it wasn’t enough. You desired and wanted more. You needed more of him with you, on you, in you, and now…after everything that had happened, after today, you somehow felt brave enough to not shy away from it.
»»————-
Your little evening with Hyunjin had already ruined you. You’d been home for just a few hours, and you’d already started reliving the events in your mind. You hadn’t even taken off the jacket he bought you, even though it would get crumpled the longer you wore it. You tried to distract yourself by cooking dinner so the scent of food could fill your apartment instead, but it still couldn’t rival the lingering fragrance of his cologne that clung to the jacket draped over your chair. 
Only an hour had passed and you gave up trying to distract yourself and sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about him, and you should probably try to protect your heart. You knew you should probably take off this jacket that cost hundreds. You’d worked so hard to try to move on but now that he was fighting to be in your life, it was like all your efforts had been for nothing. You ended up pulling up his videos, watching all of his performances from years and years ago, seeing the way he grew over time into the performer he was. All of the comments were in love with him. Millions, just like you, watching him in their bedrooms. You knew for sure, that you couldn’t let things go back to what they were: just fleeting moments of passion, and waiting on the edge of your seat for the next kiss. You knew now, that you needed something real from him.  You’d changed and pretending that your feelings hadn’t deepened in his absence would only be a useless task. 
»»————-
There was a voicemail in your inbox from Kairi. It had been a few days since you’d gone out with Hyunjin, and he’d unwittingly inspired you to step the fuck out of your apartment. You’d been walking through the market, browsing the collections of knick-knacks and shops, trying to find something Felix and Minho would really like. You wanted to mail stuff home that reminded you of them. You pressed your phone to your ear, trying to hear Kairi’s voicemail over the noise of the streets. She started out saying, “Hey, Y/N. I tried calling you, but I think you were busy so I just thought I’d leave you a message, and you can get back to me whenever. I know a lot is going on with you, and I haven’t exactly been the best friend I could have. I’m sorry, I guess I was still trying to readjust to having Chris back in my life.”
The electronics store you stepped into was huge, spanning almost five different floors, featuring tech that you hadn’t even heard of. The aisles were full of inventions and gadgets that Daejon could only even dream of. Kairi’s voicemail continued, “So what I was getting at is that there’s a…dinner party at my apartment. It’s…sort of an annual thing, I do it every year. My parents used to host them, but I've been doing them ever since they moved out. It’s fancy for no reason at all, but I love doing it because it’s a tradition? It’s not a lot of people, usually just me, the boys, and some of Chan’s friends. I’m going to make a six-course meal, and that sounds crazy. I guess it is, but I like doing it. Anyway, I guess this is just a long-winded way of me saying that…I would really like if you were there.”
You stopped in the middle of the aisle, listening to her continue, “I know that probably sounds like a lot for you, and… I’ve had these parties each year and I never really invite anybody, because it’s just…a really small gathering. The boys have been overworked too, so this would be perfect for them. I completely understand if you don’t want to come, but please consider it. I really want you there, and…you can bring Nate. I know that might put you at ease. Just think about it and let me know.”
Despite how warm her invitation made you feel, it was this Saturday. The same night you were going out with Nate. You had already long promised him you’d be his plus-one to the wedding reception. He was your friend and you couldn’t bail on him, no matter how much you craved to see Hyunjin and Kairi, and the others. Meeting him would just have to wait.
»»————-
Jeonghan’s arm fit perfectly on your waist, and he was all smiles as he introduced you to the rest of his family. Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous about tonight at all. His presence brought you ease. You’d bought a new dress, the color of cherries, a bow decorating the back, hoping it would match the vibe of everybody else at the reception. It made you feel confident enough to tackle tonight. It was a cold night, and the dress fell to your thighs, but nobody else seemed to care about the weather as they danced in strappy tops, and short skirts. Jeonghan, on the other hand, made you feel confident too. He’d proudly introduced you to everyone, and for a while there, it almost felt like you were going out together. He leaned into your ear, breath warm on your neck, “So, how are we feeling?”
You spoke through a smile, watching the guests on the dance floor, “Well. I’ve certainly never been to a wedding reception this fancy…people here really spend money on everything.”
He shook his head, “Nope. They just like to show that they can.” You glanced at him, “You know you are talking about your own family, right?” You had known Jeonghan was well-off, but truthfully, you never knew he was this wealthy. The wedding reception had been grand, and ice sculptures decorated each table setting. It was all a bit much, you could appreciate the grandeur though. He rolled his eyes, “Mum and dad have been planning this day their whole lives. I’m surprised they didn’t fly us all out to an island in the Bahamas.”
“Well, I would’ve loved to be your plus-one for that.” You laughed. He shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe for my wedding."
It was a beautiful location anyway, even if it wasn’t the Bahamas. An outdoor garden setting, hundreds of twinkling lights lit up the trees, and a dance floor where all the guests were letting loose, clearly very tipsy. You looked up at the canopy of trees, which were decorated with lush wildflowers, “Those alone must have cost you millions of won.”
“Much like your company tonight” He mumbled. You laughed, looking at him, “Whatever do you mean?”
He turned to face you, both hands grabbing you by the waist, “You know I really thought you’d ditch me tonight. Don’t you have your friend’s dinner party tonight?”
“Well…you asked me first. I made you a promise. I happen to be a good friend.”
Jeonghan smiled prettily, and he looked handsome today in the tuxedo, his hair swept back. He pulled you closer, hands on your bare back, “Thank you. Tonight would have sucked without you.”
“It’s your sister’s wedding. That’s not very nice to say” You frowned, teasing him. He chuckled, “Precisely. It’s her wedding, and I had no say on the guest list. You’re the only one I picked to be here tonight.”
You smiled, uncaring of the fact that you were in a very public space with almost all his relatives watching your intimate exchange, “I’m honored to be there for you.”
His eyes drifted over you, cheeks darkening, “You really do look pretty tonight. The other guy is definitely missing out.”
You rolled your eyes, the mention of Hyunjin stinging you a little bit, but all the wine you’d consumed tonight made it more bearable. 
“Nate, honey, can you come here a second?” An older woman interrupted, stepping over to you. One of the guests, who he’d introduced to you as his aunt, smiled at the two of you, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I need your help with something, sweetie.”
Unwillingly, Jeonghan let go of you, fingers brushing the bow on your back as he did. “I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.” He spoke. You laughed, “Don’t worry. Take your time.”
He leaned in, pressing a cheek to your kiss before following his aunt through the crowd. You smiled as he left whilst complaining about whatever task she put him up to. Being here with Jeonghan felt intimate, but it was never uncomfortable. You felt relaxed around him and his family, and he never pushed your boundaries. The reception had also been beautiful, and even though you didn’t know the wedding couple, the hopeless romantic in you craved for the kind of love they held. They’d been high school sweethearts, and the idea of that itself felt crazy to you. How must it feel to be so sure of your choice, and to have been in love for so long? You held your purse tightly, watching the couples on the dance floor. It was sweet. It was only ten minutes until Jeonghan was running back to you, “I’m sorry that took me so long. She wanted me to take pictures of her. Again!”
You laughed, “She must think you’re a real good photographer.” He rolled his eyes, “She just wants a new Facebook profile picture. I think I need more tequila.”
“That doesn’t sound like a smart idea.” You mumbled. He tugged at your hand, pulling you to the open bar, “Just one more wouldn’t hurt.”
You gave in since this was his party after all and you were only a guest, letting him lead you as he ordered you both a round of shots. He leaned against the bar, rolling his sleeves up and admittedly that made him look hot. You glanced at your phone, noticing a few messages from Kairi. You don’t know why you expected a text from Hyunjin, but in your hurry, you’d stupidly left your other phone at home. The one he bought you, where he’d text and call you. After all, keeping track of two phones was hard.
After a quick round of shots, you settled on the bar stools, watching all his drunk relatives, laughing about the stories he told you about them. The hours passed, and you were both tipsy, sitting so close at the bar. You could have easily kissed him. But you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. It’s like Jeonghan knew that too. He was holding your face, thumb brushing against your mouth as he mumbled in a drunk-haze, “You know what I think?"
"Hmm?"
"I think you should really get to that dinner, Y/N. I’ll be fine here.”
“I can’t leave you alone. I promised you.” You spoke. He laughed, “And I’m glad you came, but…wouldn’t your friend feel bad if you don’t show up?”
“She knows I have…prior obligations. They wouldn’t miss me.” You frowned, and suddenly the anxiety was back in your stomach. You were a little tired, and the thought of showing up at the dinner, where Hyunjin would definitely be, paralyzed you. Yet you also told Kairi you’d try your best to make it, even if only for a little while to grab dessert and you had to be a good friend to her too. Jeonghan nodded, “Just show up for her. I’m sure she would want you there. Plus, you look…really hot tonight. It’d be a waste to only wear that dress in front of my traditional old relatives. I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”
He was right. The formalities of the reception was over and now it was probably just going to be a never-ending party until dawn. It would be nice to see Kairi and the others tonight, even if you weren’t mentally prepared for it at all. You hadn’t thought you’d get a chance to get there at all. You cracked a smile at his consideration, looking up at him, “I guess I should get going now, if I want to make it in time for dessert. Only because you’re forcing me.”
Jeonghan nodded, helping you jump off the bar stool, and you looked back at the reception party. Everybody was having so much fun, you wish you could stay the entire night. You let Jeonghan lead you to the street, where the taxi waited for you. He thanked you for showing up and kissed you a short goodbye. When you sat in the taxi, you sent Kairi a simple text that you were on your way, and you hope that you were still welcome there.
»»————-
Of course things weren't going to go your way. The cab driver dropped you off on the wrong street, and after a long struggle in your kitten-heels you finally made it to Kairi’s doorstep. The cold had definitely sobered you up a bit, bringing back your nervousness about being here, but Kairi had clearly felt comfortable enough to have you over so you’d suck it up. Her place was inside a lavish apartment complex, and you rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently. Your stomach was already twisting at the prospect of meeting everyone, and at seeing him again. It was Chan who answered the door, and for a second it felt like you had no idea what to say, until he grinned, “You’re here!” He stepped forward and pulled you into a half-hug, on his doorstep. You were taken aback, definitely not expecting the physical contact. After all this was only your second time meeting him, but you bought your arm up, hugging him back briefly. His hair was curly, and he smelled nice. It was all you registered before he stepped back, inviting you in. 
“I’m sorry I’m so late. I was at a wedding…” You began to explain, and he shook his head, curls bouncing, “Don’t apologise! Kairi told me you had plans already so no hard feelings. We’re just glad you could make it in time…let me take your coat.”
He grabbed it from you, hooking it on a coat hanger as you looked around. It was a decently sized place, far bigger than your apartment. A set of stairs led to another floor. Dinner must have been really good, because you could still smell the aromas. Chan said, “And…I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but sorry for my behaviour the last time we met, at Kairi’s birthday. I was really drunk and emotional, I’m not usually like that.”
“No, you were just really fucking desperate.” Kairi’s voice interrupted, and she ran over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Relief surged through you at seeing her here. She looked beautiful, in a midnight blue corset, and high-waisted black pants to match and you smiled at her, “You look so good. Thank you for having me over. ”
“Me?” She laughed, raising an eyebrow, “Look at you. You’re all dolled up, like a fairy.”
“I’m really sorry I missed dinner. It smells amazing.” You frowned. She sighed dramatically, “I missed you to death, but I’ll live. This just means we need to do another one of these soon. Come on, everybody’s in there!”
Before you could mentally prepare, she’d pulled you into another room, Chan following behind. You tried to register everything. It was a cosy living room, ambient purple and orange lighting cast over everything. A popular pop song was playing at a low volume in the background. There was a lot of seating, a couch, and a bunch of unique, colourful chairs surrounded the coffee table. There seemed to be a lot of people in the room, and maybe that last round of shots had been a bad idea as you tried to register all of their faces. They were all busy in conversation, wine glasses in hand, not having noticed you yet, and you hoped it stayed like so. That way, you could just slip into conversation with no embarrassing announcement of your arrival. This was the first time you’d be meeting the band. There were two other people here that you didn’t recognise. They were both dressed casually, in cargo pants and a white beanie, and you felt a bit overdressed. “They’re some of Chan’s friends, and they work with the band. That’s Hanbin and that’s Sunmi.” Kairi leaned in to whisper. Somebody in the corner was playing the piano, a beautiful low melody, and Kairi tapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Hey. She’s here.”
Immediately, he stopped playing. Jisung — the one on the piano — burst into a smile and stood up, “Shit. You’re actually like, here!” He pulled you into a hug, just like Chan had, and they must all be touchy or very drunk. As he stepped back, he continued smiling, extending a hand, “Han Jisung, by the way.”
“We’ve met before…kind of.” You said, meeting his hand with yours. Realisation sank into his face, and all his expressions were exaggerated as he nodded, “Right, right, we have. In the company building when I dropped all your coins at the vending machine…I was an idiot.”
“When are you not?” Somebody joined you, slinging a strong arm around Jisung. You recognized him from the pictures, “Hey, Y/N…You must know who I am, right?” Changbin had a coy smile on his face, dressed in a navy button-up that only he could probably make look this good. You smiled at him, “Yeah, I do. It’s nice to meet you in person.”
He smiled, gesturing to someone, “I don’t think you’ve met Hanbin.” At those words, the boy you didn’t know stood from the couch, and you regretted pulling them out of their comfortable conversation circle, “Oh, you don’t need to get up for me.”
In the midst of the chaos and onslaught of introductions, your eyes finally found Hyunjin. He was standing by the couch, a drink in his hand, at the far end of the room, laughing about something with a girl — who was probably Sunmi. Your stomach jumped, goosebumps rippling up your entire body. He looked absolutely fucking insane. In a good way, in the best way. His hair was tied up into a low ponytail, but strands of hair fell into his face, framing it perfectly. The purple light cast rhythmic shadows on his face. He stood in a black sweater, and tight denim-wash jeans, one hand tucked into his pocket. He was only standing in a living room, but he could just as easily have been posing for a Vogue photoshoot, by his perfect stance. He hadn’t realized you were here yet, or maybe he was pretending to not notice. You didn’t have time to think about it before Hanbin stepped ahead, blocking him from your view, “Kairi would not stop talking about you the past three hours.”
You flushed, “Oh… I wish I could have been here for the entire dinner. Knowing her, it must have been great.”
“We did save you some.” Chan added. You murmured a thank you, feeling dizzy from all the attention. They were almost all talking over each other, and you were already so overwhelmed. Jisung gestured to you, “Grab a drink and sit with me.”
“No, let her eat first. Baby, you mind heating up the leftovers for Y/N?” Kairi asked Chan. You shook your head, “Please, there’s no need for that. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
Kairi rolled her eyes, “Girl, you’re my guest of honor.” Chan smiled at you, “You can follow me.” 
So, you went with him into the hallway, passing by a doorway. A door was left ajar, a glimpse into a room. It was only half a second, but you saw a wooden bed frame and a sliver of a wall of art, “Is that Kairi’s room?”
Chan shook his head, “It used to be, but she made it into a guest bedroom. Hyunjin mostly sleeps in there now. Come on. The kitchen’s through here.” He said, his strong voice guiding you through the corridor. “Right, sorry,” you said, turning away from the door and following him to the kitchen. The kitchen was big too, and set up beautifully, with marble countertops and a small kitchen island. Chan reached into the sink, rummaging through some dirty dishes, “Sorry. We’ve been meaning to run the dishwasher. Kairi kind of goes crazy at these dinners.”
You leaned against the counter, “That’s fine. No judgement.”
“Thank you.” He laughed, looking over his shoulder at you, “We’re usually much more organized than this, I promise.”
“You have a lot on your plate already, Chan. I completely understand.” You told him, with a smile. He laughed, “You’re sweet. I’m just heating up some of the chicken and fondant potatoes for you. That good?”
“Could I actually have some water? If… that’s okay” You asked. He smiled, “Of course it is. Make yourself at home. There are some clean mugs in the cabinet. You can just grab one and help yourself.” You walked around the island, opening up the cabinet. Mugs of different shapes and sizes were arranged precisely in there, and Kairi’s unique taste was definitely recognisable. A cerulean blue mug made of porcelain rested in the very back. You rather get a mug they sparsely used, so you reached for it, pulling it out. Pushing it under the tap, you began filling it with water. Chan glanced at you and your selection, “Oh. That’s Hyunjin’s favorite.”
You stilled, “Oh. Sorry. Should I pick another?”
Of course it fucking was. Why did you have to pick that one amongst all of them? “No, no, go ahead. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Chan smiled, pushing a button to start the dishwasher and then crossed his arms towards you, “I’ll just go see if the guys need any more drinks.”
“Sure.” You responded, taking a slow sip from the mug, and the knowledge that it was his favourite mug made you feel jittery. Doing all those shots before coming to see Hyunjin had been a terrible idea. You grabbed your water and held it tight, returning to the living room, where you could hear loud laughter from. They were all back in conversation, and Changbin was imitating a silly dance, making Hyunjin laugh. You stood under the archway, watching them. A few seconds went by, and Hyunjin was still laughing, crinkled eyes, and he reached up to tuck his hair back absentmindedly, and that’s when he saw you.
You don’t know what you were expecting. He stilled, eyes widening, trailing off in the middle of his conversation. He really hadn’t known you had arrived. His lips formed a small smile, and that was so fucking attractive, and from across the room, he mouthed, “Hey.”
The tension within you dissipated. You had to fight your smile, feeling lovestruck and lovesick by a smile word. All he said was hi. Then why did your knees already feel weak? Why did it feel like the first time you had seen him, unable to comprehend anything except his absolutely, insane beauty? You shot him a soft smile, mouthing back, “Hey.”
He sidestepped his friends, walking over to you, and you felt shy under his intense gaze. His stance was casual and so confident, and in another universe you could imagine meeting him at a college party like this. “You came.” He spoke, and you tilt your head up to look him in the eyes, “Yeah. I did.”
His eyes fell to the mug in your hands, and you realised there was a lipstick stain on it. Your lipstick stain. On his stuff. You apologised, “Um, sorry, Chan said I can—”
“Don’t worry” He interrupted too quick, eyes flickering over your form, “How are you?”
You’d already decided this was your time to be brave, and you weren’t going to hold back tonight, “I’m okay. I’ve been wanting to reach out to you and I—” 
“So, what took you so long tonight?” Hanbin asked, stepping up to the two of you. You glanced at him, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you but he was being polite so you spoke, “Oh, I was at a wedding reception. I promised my friend I’d be his date.”
“Ahh. That’s why you’re dressed up so pretty. Was it a good reception?” He asked. You smiled at his compliment, “Yeah. I…had a great time actually. It was definitely a fancy event.”
“Can I see the pictures? Please tell me you took some!” Kairi asked, overhearing the conversation. She was perched on Chan’s lap, and you shot Hyunjin an apologetic smile, you’d just have to speak to him later and you handed your phone over to her, “Yeah, actually I did. Jeonghan is kind of obsessed with taking pictures, so we took a lot.”
She scrolled through your gallery, and Jisung leaned in over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the pictures too, “Wow. That shit looks…expensive.Your friend’s loaded.”
You laughed, “I guess his family is pretty rich.”
“He took a lot of pictures of just you.” Kairi teased, scrolling through, “I mean, I don’t blame him. You look like you stepped out of a fairytale.”
“Um. You should have seen the bride.” You laughed. Jisung was still nosily peeking into your phone, “So, who’s Jeonghan?”
“He’s a…friend.” You explained, while Chan handed you a drink. It seemed like one of his famous cocktails Hyunjin had told you about, but nothing could beat the drink he had made you on his last night in Daejon. Despite how much you wanted to try this, you really didn’t want to be drunk tonight, “Um…I shouldn’t. I already drank more than I should have tonight.”
“I mean, objectively, the best thing about weddings is the open bars,” Changbin pointed out. You laughed, “You’re right and Jeonghan used that same excuse to force me through five rounds of tequila.”
Jisung’s eyes widened, “You’re fucking kidding me. You must have a high tolerance if you’re so sober after five shots.”
“I think the walk in the cold definitely contributed to that” You joked, and then explained due to his perplexed look, “I must have put in the wrong location because the cab driver dropped me off a few blocks away.”
“In those shoes? I would have given up.” Changbin asked.
“So you took a cab alone?” Hyunjin suddenly asked. Your gaze darted to him, surprised he’d spoken up and you hadn’t realised how much you’d insanely missed his delicate voice. You nodded, “Um, yeah.”
“Your… friend sent you here in a cab when you were drunk and by yourself?”
“I mean…yeah. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Nate couldn’t have dropped you here?” He asked. You frowned, “It’s not like I was gonna ask him to bring me here, it was his family’s party.” His eyebrows shot up, “Isn’t he rich? I’m sure he could have figured out a way.”
“These pictures are beautiful,” Kairi spoke, cutting the tension in the room as she handed you your phone back. You were staring at Hyunjin, and at his misplaced concern. Changbin had also clearly picked up on it, because he nudged him in the stomach, “If you were so worried about her, you should have offered to pick her up.”
Hyunjin took a sip of his drink, nonchalant face, “I did.”
Your eyes widened. When did he offer that? You showed your honest surprise, “I… didn’t know.”
The room was quiet, and Jisung chuckled, “Must be the first girl in history to ignore your texts, Jinnie”. 
The others laughed, but Hyunjin genuinely looked hurt that you hadn’t taken him up on his offer. In all truth, you never saw that text. If you did, you would have said yes. You’d forgotten the phone he gave you at your bedside table, and you couldn’t be blamed for not being able to keep track of it when so much was going on. You shook your head, “No, I just…had a lot on my mind, I was with Jeonghan the whole day, I must have missed it.”
Your response satisfied the room, but seemed to be the wrong answer for Hyunjin by the slight hurt in his eyes that only you noticed. It sucked because the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like that tonight.
“So how do you know Kairi?” Hanbin asked, smiling attentively at you. You couldn’t focus, hoping Hyunjin wasn’t genuinely hurt and spoke, “Oh…it was just a coincidence. I met her in a bar.” Kairi nodded along, “And she offered to give me her jacket! Some fucking loser had thrown his drink on me.”
Hanbin laughed, adjusting his beanie, “I see. I see...So I take it you’re not a fan then?”
“Sorry?”
“You ain’t heard these guys’ music before?” He gestured towards the boys. You nodded, realising he was asking if you liked the band “Oh, some of it, yeah.”
“Oh, you’re hurting my feelings, Y/N.” Changbin pouted. Sunmi rolled her eyes, “No, it’s a breath of fresh air to see you not fawning over them. I like you already.”
Oh, if only she knew how much you did obsess over one of them. She would be concerned for you, if she could read your mind around him. You forced a smile, “I just honestly… hadn’t heard of it until a few months ago.”
Her eyes widened, “You’re kidding. How do you live in Seoul and not hear of them?” Then Chan leaned forward, adding to explain to you, “Sunmi’s one of our producers, by the way. She’s been with us since our second album. One of the best.”
“And Y/N isn’t a local.” Kairi added, “She moved here a while ago.”
“Yeah the music scene back home is….not the biggest.” You said briefly, not wanting to talk about yourself too much. You had been hoping to blend in, not be the centre of attention tonight and Sunmi asked, “And where is… back home?”
“Okay! A pause on the questions. I need Y/N for something.” Kairi interrupted, coming over to you and leaned in to whisper, “Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I’m getting another drink.”
You nodded, relieved she could pick up on your body language. As soon as you were out of earshot of the living room, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. They ask you a lot of questions. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being interrogated.”
“No, I don’t mind, I’m just kind of tired and feel like I may not be at my best social energy right now.” You apologised, leaning against the counter, as she made a cocktail for herself. Her eyes wandered over you, “You really do look beautiful. I love the glitter eyeshadow.”
“You like my bow?” You smiled, twirling to show her. She laughed, “It’s the cherry on top. So, how was it tonight with Nate? As far as I remember…. he has the biggest crush on you, or he’s just a very sincere… fuckboy.”
“Regardless…I had a really good time with him.” You said, running your finger along the marble slab. You could hear Jisung and Changbin’s loud laughter from the other room. They seemed like a lot of fun, and you definitely wanted to relax for the rest of the night. You wanted them to like you too, so perhaps you could do with a little liquid courage. As if she read your mind, Kairi finished mixing her drink then tilt her head, “You suuure you don’t want one?”
But every other time you’d gotten tipsy around Hyunjin, you’d ended up doing something stupid. “No, I…think I’ll stick with water.” You decided. She let out a sigh, taking a sip of her vodka, “Did you two kiss tonight?”
“Me and Jeonghan…?” You were surprised at the question. She hummed, “Yeah, sorry if that was weird to ask. I just know…things between you and Hyunjin…aren’t the best.”
“Did you hear us? The other night in the car?” You ended up asking, even though it was embarrassing for you to bring up that argument. She looked up at you, “Bits and pieces.”
“And what’d you think?” You bit your lip. She sighed, “I think you both…have a lot of pent-up feelings. It’s good you got them out.”
“It felt…immature to fight him. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I’m usually not…that vocal”
“There was nothing wrong with what you said. I mean, trust me, I’ve had a hell of a lot more aggressive fights with Chris. We end up saying a lot of stuff we don’t mean.”
“Well, that’s the thing. I meant everything. I don’t really regret any of it.”
“Then he needed to hear that.” Kairi agreed, “I didn’t know he cut you off like that completely. I would have been devastated if I was you. I’d say you handled it pretty well… Hyunjin doesn’t really talk to me about you, and I wish I could be more helpful. How do you feel now?”
You shrugged, “I don’t know if I mentioned it to you, but he took me shopping last week… I don’t know how I feel about it. It felt a lot like a date, but it wasn’t. I just…wish I had some surety from him, you know?”
Her hand landed on yours comfortingly, “Well, you don’t have to decide right now. I’m just glad you chose to come tonight.”
“Are you girls gonna spend the entire night gossiping without us?” Jisung interrupted. You turned and saw him in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. You hope he didn’t overhear anything. Kairi laughed, “What do you need?”
Jisung grinned widely, “Well, actually. I was gonna go get ice from the fridge upstairs, if any of you want to accompany me for that? Make you feel helpful.”
“I could come with.” You offered, smiling at him. He did a small fist pump, “Exactly the outcome I was hoping for. No offence, Kair”
As you followed him up the stairs to the storage room, he reminded you, “Be careful, your heels. I’ve fallen face-first on these steps more times than I’d admit.” 
Your heart warmed at his concern, and you grabbed the bannister to keep your balance.“Cool place though, right?” He asked, looking back at you as you observed the framed pictures on the wall and he continued, “Me and the boys used to spend a lot of our weekends here.”
“Oh? That must have been nice….” You walked into a storage room, of sorts. A mini-fridge stood in the corner and Jisung pulled it open, grabbing the ice box as he looked back at you, “Yeah. Kairi got so sick of having us over, she ended up turning her study into another guest room.”
“Of course she did.” You laughed, “Do you still come here often?”
He shook his head, reaching for more ice, “After Chan and Kairi broke up, we obviously stopped for a while, but… I’m hoping to get back to normal. Couldn’t be more thrilled that they’re back together.”
“Me too. They seem pretty…perfect for each other.” You smiled. He stood up straight, his ribbed top riding up, and you looked away. All of them were so attractive it was hard to comprehend such a pretty friend group existed. He grinned at you, “I should thank you for that.”
“Me? I… didn’t do anything” 
“Do you mind holding this?” He handed you the ice box momentarily, “Well, Hyunjin told me that you helped them meet up at her birthday.”
“Oh. Right.” You nodded, gripping it within your hands and it was freezing, condensation making it slip in your palms, “I…guess I did.” You had the urge to ask him what else he talked about with him, but this was your first time meeting Jisung, and that would be weird to ask. “Sure sounded like a fun party. Hyunjin told me you organise those a lot.” Jisung continued, taking back the ice box from you, “And tell me about it downstairs. I would love to talk to you in this storage room all night, but… let’s get this ice to them before all of it melts, and before Changbin threatens to kill me again.”
Back in the living room, the music seemed louder when you returned, and Hyunjin was engaged in an intense conversation with Sunmi and Changbin. Kairi was showing Chan something on her phone. You settled on a seat, and Jisung naturally pulled up a chair to be closer to you. He clinked his drink with yours, before he took a big mouthful, cheeks full of the liquid before swallowing. “So…what was I saying?” Jisung asked, dropping his voice so only you could hear him. You took a sip of your water, already feeling more at ease around him, “About how I’m a really great party planner.”
He smiled, “Right. That. Have you ever thought of doing that professionally?”
You laughed, “Honestly, I don’t know what Hyunjin was talking about. I’ve only organised two parties in my life…my best friend's and Kairi’s…they both ended in a disaster.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, I’m sure.” Jisung rolled his eyes, “So… he also happened to mention you’re real good at art. Can I see some of it or are you going to be shrouded in mystery forever?”
You giggled, reaching for your phone, “There is absolutely nothing mysterious about that, Jisung. You can see it, but… it’s not the best.”
He peeked into your phone gallery as you showed him a few paintings you’d made over the past few years, and Jisung probably wasn’t interested in art, but he still smiled, reacting overtly to each of them and even pointing out which ones he liked. He reminded you a lot of Yeonjun in that sense, where he took interest in something just because of his friends. He was playful, and it was nice to see the physical manifestation of all the stories Hyunjin told you about. You glanced up and Hyunjin was looking at you, probably curious about why you and Jisung were peeking into your phone, so you explained, “I was just showing him some of my paintings.”
He nodded, making brief eye contact with Jisung before he said, “Ah. I’m uh…going to check on the dessert.”
“Do you want my help?” You asked, already moving to stand up. He shook his head, “No, don’t worry. I wouldn’t wanna pull you away from the conversation.”
Disappointed, you settled back down, and Jisung spoke, “Can I ask you something, honestly though?”
“Yeah?”
“Why’d you leave your fancy wedding date to come here?”
“I…promised Kairi I’d try to make it here.” You replied, staring at the liquid in your glass. Jisung hummed, “Right, right. I see.” You were glad he didn’t push you further, seeing as how he was Hyunjin’s best friend and any answer you could come up with would be embarrassing. Before you could say anything further anyway, Changbin started talking about an incident on their trip to Japan, and you let yourself be swept up into the conversation. He was a great storyteller, and so charismatic. It wasn’t too hard to imagine why they were so famous. You’d only been here an hour or so, and you could listen to them talk for hours. Almost mesmerised by their dynamic, you watched the boys talk, losing track of time… and of how long Hyunjin had been gone. Your mug lay empty on the coffee table, and you stood up to refill it, when Changbin asked, “Where the fuck is Jinnie?”
“Probably hyper-fixating in the kitchen. Y/N, do you think you could call him out?” Jisung replied, looking at you expectantly. You blanked, feeling taken aback by the question. Kairi noticed, moving to stand, “Um, I can get—”
“No, that’s fine.” You spoke. You were braver than that and it would finally give you the chance to talk to him by yourself, “I can just get him.”
“Okay…” She settled back down, shooting you a comforting smile. You walked over to the kitchen, and your heels were so loud on the tiled floor that he’d definitely hear you coming. The door was closed, and you knocked lightly, not wanting to interrupt him. 
“Come in.” His voice carried to you. You pushed the door open, eyes falling on him. He was leaning against the counter, drinking from his glass, staring into nothing. Well. He was staring at the oven, but why was he alone in here? He looked over his shoulder, eyes flickering over your form, “Oh. Hey.”
You stood awkwardly by the door, hand holding it open, “Hi. Um. The guys were…asking for you. I thought you were getting dessert.” He looked around, at the mess of things, “I was. It’s still not ready, so I decided to wait for it. You can let them know I’ll be there soon.”
“Oh.” You spoke, wondering if you should leave… but you were curious, “You’ve been in here by yourself for really long.”
“Yeah. Just wanted to be by myself for a bit.”
A tinge of hurt hit you, “Oh…do you want me to leave?”
He let out a sigh, putting his glass on the counter, and turned to face you, “No…you don’t have to do that.”
“But…you just said you want to be by yourself.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at you, amused look on his face, “That…obviously doesn’t include you.”
You’d been standing on the threshold the entire time, but at those words, you stepped in, letting the door shut behind you. You looked around the little kitchen, “Sorry I used your mug.”
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “That’s fine. I’m surprised you ended up picking mine. Guess we like the same things.”
“You could say that.” You breathed, hands behind your back. His gaze felt so strong on you, and it was so quiet in here compared to the chaos of the outside. He smiled lightly, when you asked him, “So…what dessert are we having tonight?” 
He glanced at the oven, “A…strawberry tart. You like those?”
You thought about it, “I don’t know. I haven’t had one since I was a kid anyway.”
Hyunjin put his hands on the counter, tilting his head, “Really? Felix never baked one for you?”
“He was kind of obsessed with chocolate…I had too much of that.” You recalled. Hyunjin smiled, nodding, “Right. I remember trying out the treats he made us…when we went to the Creek for the swim.”
“Wow…that feels like it was ages ago.” You remembered. Hyunjin nodded, “It was. I guess. Feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Do you miss it?” You ended up asking. His expression softened, “I…do. Your friends were fun to hang out with.”
“Aren’t they your friends too?” You laughed. He shrugged cutely, “Right, but I don’t think I would’ve talked to anybody in town if it wasn’t for you.”
You smiled, “I think you’re giving me too much credit. That was all Hana. She’s the one who…introduced you to us.”
“You miss them? Your friends?” He asked. You sighed, leaning against the door, crossing your arms to keep warm as you thought about it, “Yeah. Recently I’ve missing home so much and my friends, well at this point they’re…like my family. It sucks being separated from them. Kind of like…how you felt when you were away from the boys.”
“I’m sorry if I forced you to stay.” He suddenly said, “I realize that…it may have been my emotionally clouded judgment, and I feel like… I guilted you into staying here. Maybe it was selfish of me.”
Your eyes narrowed, a realisation sinking in as to why he seemed a little distant, “Is that why you’re in here by yourself?”
He nodded, “Yeah. Just needed to take my mind off things. I guess honestly, I just…miss spending time with you, like we did back home. The other night, I was learning a new routine and realised you’ve never even seen me dance. Not in person, at least. I mean, isn’t that crazy? We’ve known each other so long, but there’s so much of me you don’t know. The thought freaked me out, and then…”
“And then?”
“Then I started thinking that it goes the other way too. There’s so much of you I still haven’t seen.” He said, “Like the other day, when you wore the jacket, I realised…I only know you in the summer. I haven’t seen you in winter."
Your heart squeezed at his confusing but thoughtful words, and you smiled, “I’m the same in all the seasons, Hyunjin.”
He was looking at you from across the room, “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Did you know I was coming here tonight?” 
He shook his head, “I didn’t think you would. Kairi told me you had a wedding date with Jeonghan…”
“Yeah, I did. He understands though…this was just as important.”
He nodded, “Right.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I would love to see you dance…if you feel comfortable.”
He looked at you at that, smiling slightly, before a short embarrassed laugh, “Yeah."
The oven let out a ding, interrupting whatever you might say. He smiled wide, and his demeanour already seemed lighter, “It’s done. Do you wanna do the honor?”
“Oh. Sure”. You stepped over to him,, and he pulled open the oven door. He was standing so close now that you could see the perspiration slide down his jaw, droplets cascading down neck, and he must have been nervous this whole time. You bent down to see into the oven, and it smelled amazing, but before you could grab the handle of the hot pan, you felt a firm grip on your arm stopping you, “Wait—”. 
Startled, you looked up at Hyunjin, his hand circling your wrist tightly, “What?”
His eyes searched yours, “It’s burning hot. Y/N. You’ll hurt yourself.”
You then realised you weren’t wearing any mitts, and you were just gonna grab the baking dish like so, with bare hands. How stupid. Your hair fell into your eyes, making it harder to see Hyunjin, but you mumbled a pathetic, “Oh.”
He reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear, then let out a chuckle, voice soft, “What were you thinking?” 
You swallowed, staring at his lips, “I wasn’t.”
He smiled, standing up tall, “I got this.”
Your face felt hot, and you were only a little mortified. Carefully, Hyunjin placed the baking dish on the kitchen counter, taking off his oven mitts; they were red and matched your dress. He nudged you, elbow against yours, “You wanna be the first one to try it? I’ll let you have an extra piece and if you end up liking it and want the whole thing, I can just tell the others I burnt the dish.”
You laughed, looking up at him, “You’d lie to your friends so I could have more pastry?”
A knock on the door pulled your attention to Chan. He peeked in, “Hey guys. Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt…but Hanbin’s leaving, so he wanted to say goodbye.”
“Oh. Of course” Hyunjin said, and you followed them out into the foyer, where Hanbin and Sumni stood in their winter coats already and everybody was gathered around them. Kairi was hugging them, when Hyunjin spoke, “You’re not staying for dessert? Come onn.”
Hanbin smiled apologetically, “Dude, it’s gonna snow again, and the traffic’s terrible. If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it home until morning.”
“Oh, you should still take some of the strawberry tart some with you” Kairi said, running back into the kitchen, “I have a few takeout containers.”
You looked at Sunmi, “You said traffic’s going to be bad?” She nodded, “Yeah, Seoul basically shuts down in bad weather. We don’t wanna risk it. It’ll only get worse, but …it was really nice meeting you tonight, Y/N.”
You glanced at Chan, realising they were probably right, and your stomach sank, “Oh. I guess I should probably get going too then.”
“What?” Jisung complained loudly, “You just got here.”
“We can drop you off.” Hanbin suggested, “Our car’s parked out front.”
Jisung let out a dramatic sigh. You didn’t really want to leave, you were just getting to warm up to Hyunjin, but you didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t leave, you could be stuck until tomorrow. You reached for your coat, “That sounds good Hanbin, as long as it’s not an inconvenience.”
Kairi walked back in with takeout boxes in hand, and her eyes narrowed, “What’s going on? Y/N’s leaving too?”
You slipped your coat on, tossing your hair out of it, “They said they could take me home. The snow’s piling up....” Kairi shook her head, “Nope. You’re not leaving.”
You laughed, stepping closer to grab her hand, “What do you mean? I don't want to leave but I I don’t exactly have a choice.”
She squeezed your hands, “Babe, you just got a few hours ago. Stay a while, and if things are still bad when you want to leave, you can just sleep in my guest bedroom. I mean, that’s what it’s for.”
You considered it, and then Changbin spoke, “See? You have no excuses. So if you still decide to leave now, that just means you hate us.”
You laughed, “Okay, I guess I can stay a little.”
Kairi squealed, pulling you into a hug. Your heart warmed at the idea that they all wanted to spend more time with you. It was only the first time you were meeting most of them, but they still reacted like that. It made you feel wanted. You’d only been craving that all this while. From the corner of your eye, you caught Hyunijn’s reaction. He wasn’t dramatically expressive, unlike Changbin or Jisung, who wore their emotions on their sleeve. Hyunjin was watching this exchange quietly from the corner, arms across his chest, leaning against a pillar. He seemed calm, like he was okay with whatever you ended up doing, but he was gazing at you so intently it made you want to stay just so he’d look at you like that the rest of the night.
»»————-
In a matter of an hour, the strawberry tart had been cut up and shared, and remnants lay on porcelain plates decorating the coffee table. Kairi had beautiful crockery. She had a beautiful home. She had beautiful friends. Changbin was funnier than you expected — Hyunjin had never talked about his humour before, and you were glad you were discovering it on your own now. He was also touchy, he’d find excuses to touch Hyunjin and Jisung every now and then, a giggle on his face when they unwittingly pushed him away. You’d only been here a few hours, but watching their dynamic unfolding was wonderful.
After Hanbin and Seonmi had left, you’d moved over to the couch, which was much more comfortable than your earlier seat, and Hyunjin had surprisingly stayed where he was…which happened to be right next to you. He was manspreading, leaning against the couch arm, a drink in his hand. The music playing was much softer now, so it was easier to have the conversations and listen to them, and Jisung was playing the piano again quietly. Kairi animatedly explained something to him, and Chan was just listening with a smile on his face, while he stroked her back. They were so cute it made you want to die. You snuck glances at Hyunjin to your right, every now and then. He was still calm as ever, but his cheeks were red from all the drinking. His hair was messier too, and it made him look hotter than you could ever imagine. It was hard to look him in the eye, when he looked this good, so you focused on everything else. You were so engaged in another one of Changbin’s crazy stories, you didn’t realize when you reached to pull your dress down, you accidentally put your hand on Hyunjin’s thigh.
You don’t know what you were thinking. You’d severely miscalculated the distance between you. It was only for a second, but he noticed. Of course he fucking noticed. Instantly, he tensed up, pausing in the middle of his sip. You wondered if he’d push it away. If he’d tell you to stop, or ask what you were doing. Instead, he lift the drink to his mouth like nothing happened. You pulled your hand back before anybody else noticed. It was only an accident after all.
Changbin’s attention was all on you; he’d been telling you about his favorite records and artists in the music industry. He was enjoying the strawberry tart Hyunjin baked, leaving crumbs behind, and paused to ask you, “So now that you’ve been here a while, what’s your favorite place in the city?” You tilt your head, mulling over it, “I’ll have to think about that…I haven’t seen all of it yet.”
“Nobody’s seen all of it, Y/N” Jisung rolled his eyes, punctuating it with a laugh, “Even though some of us have been here our whole lives.”
That was hard for you to comprehend. You knew every inch of Daejon, every rock, every tree, each house. You’d eaten at every restaurant, shopped in every boutique, and knew everybody. “This might be a stupid question but do you never feel like exploring more of it?” You asked. Changbin shrugged, “It’s not really possible. Nobody has the time or the energy, or the money.”
“Yeah.” Hyunjin spoke, surprising you. You glanced at him, and he paused from drinking to address you, “I feel that…people here get stuck in their little convenient routines and never feel a want for more.”
Your eyes searched his, “What do you mean?”
He swirled the drink in his glass, “So many people here…get so comfortable. Not that there’s anything wrong with comfort, but when you live in a city like this…I don’t understand. They only go to the same coffee shop for fifty years, the same restaurants, not really trying anything new.”
“I hate that.” You spoke up, before he’d even finished speaking. You hated the idea of that, of an endless routine, and an unchanging life. It was one of the few things in life you were sure about. Hyunjin was looking at you and only you, as he spoke, “I know. So many people here…build their life around a few places, and those places become their life. Even though the city is so much bigger than that, and I guess I hate…the idea of settling for whatever there is.” 
Changbin cleared his throat, “Well. I think I’m too drunk for this conversation.”
A tissue box lay on the end table next to Hyunjin. Turning back to the room, you asked, “Is it okay if I have the last piece of the pastry?” It was a unanimous yes, and when you bit into the tart, little crumbs fell to your thighs, and between your thighs. It was a mess so naturally, you said, “Sorry, could you pass me that, Hyunjin?”
He looked around, noticing the only thing next to him, the box of tissues. He nodded, “Yeah, of course” and reached in for a few, passing them to you. You took them from him, fingers brushing against his. Your stomach flipped at the sensation. His hand was so warm, and your fingers lingered on his a while longer — as long as you could without making it weird. Then, you simply wiped away the crumbs from your thighs, drawing Hyunjin’s brief attention to them. After all, you’d only been this messy with the pastry so you’d have an excuse to talk to him.
You wonder if he picked up on that. You hadn't been too subtle about it, being as messy as you could possibly be just so he'd have an excuse to give you the tissues. Hyunjin was so close to you, after being so out of reach. Being in the same room as him wasn’t enough, sitting on the same couch as him wasn’t enough. You wanted to touch him, be on him, and for him to be on you. You did feel kind of insane, but this was so much more than how crushes or boyfriends had ever made you feel. The desire you felt...you never even knew that was humanely possible. You were so lost in him, and his warm body sitting next to yours that you wouldn’t notice even if the room around you disappeared completely. Still, you owed something to the rest so you asked, “Um, what about you Changbin? What’s your favorite place?” 
He lift his glass up, a wide grin on his face, “That’s easy. The recording studio.” Chan laughed, picking up on your conversation, “I second that answer.”
They really loved what they did. You wonder why your favorite place wasn’t automatically the painting studio. Shouldn’t it be that, seeing as to how that was your biggest purpose in life? But ever since the past few weeks, you dreaded returning to a studio. The thought made your stomach sink. If you weren’t an artist, what even were you? It sent you into a spiral, and you were dissociating from this party, just thinking about it.
“You okay?”
You could drown in the softness of that voice. A gentle touch to your shoulder, and you looked at Hyunjin as he lowered his voice, asking again, “You feel fine?”
You nodded, gripping your dress tightly, “Yeah, I was just…thinking about something.”
“Good, or bad?” He whispered, not wanting to interrupt all of the conversations in the room. You stared at him, “I don’t know. Bad.”
“Do you want to step out of here?” He asked. He was so attentive. Maybe he could be the solution for your predicament too. You shook your head, “I want to ask you something but it’s kind of…random.”
“I’m listening.” He spoke, an amused smile on his features. You swallowed, fiddling with the glass in your lap, and it was easy to filter out every noise in the room when he was next to you, “We always talked about painting together. Would you still be up for something like that? Or…are you too busy with your schedule?”
“If that’s something you want to do, we can do it together.” He replied, “I have a personal studio…you could come to my place, or…I could come to yours.”
“Maybe I should come to yours. I…wanna see your room too.” You spoke. He cracked a smile, “We can make that happen.”
In the midst of all this, you shifted, absentmindedly inching closer to Hyunjin on the couch, until your leg was completely touching his. You felt like a school girl finding excuses to touch her crush, and even just this little touch sent fireworks in your belly. He didn’t move away this time either, and that was a triumph in your book. He just sent you a comforting smile. Of course, the bubble popped, and Jisung said something, pulling your attention back to him, “You should really visit our recording studio, Y/N. I think you’d appreciate the…precision and organisation of everything.” 
“How do you know that’s something I like?” You laughed. He shrugged, “I’ve only known you for a few hours, but you definitely give off that vibe.”
“Well, that’s pretty accurate, I’d say,” Kairi laughed, then looked to you, “I think you’d appreciate the way Chan organized my record collection.”
“You have a record collection?” You were surprised. She rolled her eyes, “Of course I do. I’m pretentious like that.”
“I can show you. They’re right by the TV.” Chan proposed, standing up. You didn’t want to leave Hyunjin’s side and warmth, but you didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity, so you stood up, “I’d love that.” It was in the same room, so at least you wouldn’t be too far from Hyunjin, and Chan began showing you the TV cabinet and how he’d arranged all the records in order of release and by band. He was giggling, explaining something, and you told him how much this reminded you of Yeonjun - he also had a similar collection of DVDs. Chan’s eyes lit up at that. He was surprised that people still bought DVDs, and you mentioned that he should meet Yeonjun. It was a crazy thing to suggest, but you didn’t think too much of it. Your two worlds colliding. You think they’d like each other. Thinking of it, Chan would probably like Felix, too. As he sifted through the records, you glanced back over to the couch where Hyunjin and Jisung were having an animated conversation. He seemed so happy, laughing loudly, eyes crinkling. You’d missed seeing him like that. You’d been getting used to meeting the tense version of him, and this was a welcome change. Around the people he loved, he seemed like the truest version of himself.
You wanted to catch a subtle glance at him for another split-second. But you caught so much more. He was staring at you. He was speaking to someone but his gaze kept flickering back to you, and he wasn’t even subtle about it. At least you had tried to not be so obvious, but he was blatantly checking you out. His gaze would flicker from his friends, to you, to your dress, to your legs. It made you feel dizzy, and you tried to not react.
You couldn’t still be upset at him for what happened all those weeks ago. He’d apologized, and he already said it was the hardest thing he had done. He had more than made up for it, hadn’t he? He had convinced you to stay. You’d tried so hard to move on, to force feelings for others, you’d kissed another boy, but it was impossible. Ever since he left Daejon…you’d tried to not think about him, but he was everywhere and in everything you saw. In your good moments, and in your bad. Even after he broke your heart, he was all around you.
Chan started telling you about his favorite records, and you got lost in the conversation until Kairi called him back, whining cutely from the empty armchair. So with a few top-tier record recommendations by Chan, you made your way back to the couch, and Hyunjin was still laughing over a silly joke. He shifted so you could sit, and as soon as you did, he asked you, “Find anything you liked?”
“Quite a few. I’m excited to hear them.”
And just like that, with a small smile and a nod, Hyunjin’s hand moved to your bare thigh. Your dress had ridden up as soon as you’d sat back down, and he had jumped at the opportunity with no hesitation. Your heart raced at the realisation. Anybody could see this, but he didn’t seem to care. He inched upwards, settling comfortably on your upper thigh, right where the hem of your dress ended. It sent a wave of arousal though you. Jisung began speaking again. Trying to be nonchalant was hard, when your heart was jumping up and down at this little development. A part of you was so happy he’d forgotten any and all unsaid boundaries that he had set himself months ago. Things had changed with him, and you wanted to dig into his brain to find out what led to this behaviour. What happened to not wanting you, to not taking risks, to not wanting a relationship or love? 
The others didn’t seem to care that Hyunjin was touching you so openly, or that he’d completely checked out of the conversation. He was too preoccupied with touching you. His thumb drew circles on your bare skin, and it was comforting, it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but how could it also not be? You’d been starved for this, so you couldn’t help the sensations through you at his simple touch. Chan spoke to you again, “You should really come to the building. We can show you around. Eunwoo would probably be okay with it.”
You guessed that Eunwoo was their manager’s name, and you supposed that Chan was directing that to Hyunjin, but Hyunjin had completely stopped participating in this discussion, forgetting that he held a purpose to this gathering other than touching you like this. But no purpose could be greater than that, could it? 
Each circle he traced sent a shiver down your spine, strokes of lightning down your thigh, between your legs. Jisung started talking about something else, and you couldn’t keep track. You were lightheaded. You were dying. Each second that Hyunjin’s thumb brushed against your thigh, you screamed a bit inside. He was so nonchalant with it, holding your leg at a party like you were his. You were his. Despite everything. His metallic rings were cold on your skin, and Hyunjin's hands slipped between your thighs. All of his friends were here, but nobody was looking at that. Hyunjin was talking to Chan, smiling occasionally, and groping your thigh at the same time. You wish he'd never stop. It was so fucking hot. Your head was spinning, and your heart felt like it might collapse from beating too fast. It couldn’t be normal for it to pound so loudly in your chest. Could everyone in this room hear you? Could they hear the insanity within you for him? Why couldn’t he should just drop this charade, take you away and fuck you right now?
A drink. You needed a drink. You interrupted the conversation, perhaps speaking far too loudly, “Han, could you please pass me the bottle of wine?”
Han nodded, reaching over with the bottle clumsily, and it was fine until it wasn’t. He was too drunk and preoccupied as he handed it to you. The wine spilled over, landing right on your lap and soaking your dress. “Fuck!” Jisung exclaimed, standing up, “I’m so sorry!”
Hyunjin pulled his hand back from your thigh, at the sudden sensation. It was like a cold shower, snapping you out of your daze. The liquid ruined your dress, and it was an expensive one, but it wasn’t Jisung’s fault. You wouldn’t blame him when it was entirely your fault. You didn’t want to disrupt the party, so you quickly stood up, “Don’t worry about it.” You glanced at Kairi, who’d vaguely registered that this had happened, “Could I use your bathroom?”
“Of course. Do you need me to bring you a change of clothes?”
“No, it should be fine. Excuse me…” You made your way out of the living room. You went up the stairwell, the music fading in the background. Your heels were muffled on the carpeted staircase, and your legs felt shaky. Jisung had informed you the bathroom was to the right. You stepped in, catching a glimpse of yourself in the reflection. Your hair was messier than it should be, but it was still fine. You hadn’t drank anything in the past few hours, but you definitely felt drunk. Opening the faucet, you splashed droplets of water onto your dress. The wine had completely spread out, staining the skirt, and your only respite was that it was red wine on a red dress. You braced yourself against the countertop, letting out a sigh, wondering if this had been a stupid idea.
A soft knock pulled you out of your despair.
“Come in.” You unlocked the door to Hyunjin standing there. He was leaning against the doorway, hands tucked in his pockets, “Hey…you okay?” His concerned gaze fell to your dress, “What’s the verdict? Will the dress survive?”
“You tell me.” You laughed, lifting it up to show him the wine stain. He grimaced, “Shit. You need help?” You didn’t. After all, what could he do that you couldn’t? But you nodded, “Yeah”
He stepped in. The bathroom was tiny. It was cute, with a marble countertop and Kairi clearly had a flair for decoration. Hyunjin pushed his sleeves up, wetting his hands in the sink and grabbed the hem of your dress, fingers rubbing at the stain. He was bent over, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated. He must be trying a new cologne. His scent was so strong, infiltrating your brain, your body, your being. It was sexy, and it was so him. It didn’t help how dizzy you felt.
“I don’t think it's going to come out.” You said truthfully, so he wouldn’t engage in a losing battle. He seemed determined though, “I’m sorry. Jisung can be…such a klutz sometimes.”
“It wasn’t his fault.” You said, as Hyunjin suggested, “There must be something in the cabinet that would help, like a wine stain remover or something.”
“I doubt it.” You laughed, leaning against the counter and Hyunjin dejectedly let go of your skirt. He was frowning, a stupid pout on his pretty face, “It’s a shame… That’s a beautiful dress.”
You smiled, accepting this loss and crossed your arms, “Don’t worry too much. It’s only temporary. I’m sure it can be fixed.”
“Maybe I can step into Kairi’s closet, and grab you another dress?” He suggested. You shook your head before he could finish, “You don’t need to do that for me.”
Yet he was about to leave, determined to get you out of this sticky situation. A surge of panic rose through you. You grabbed the front of his sweater, pulling him back in, “Wait, Hyunjin.”
He stumbled back to you, confused, “Yeah?”
Your voice fell to a lower tone, a little embarrassed at your urgency, “Don’t go just yet.”
His eyes met yours, an intense look in them, “Why?”
Your eyes closed, and you were still gripping onto his sweater, “My head is spinning.”
“You drank too much?” He realised. You opened your eyes to look at him, and he was much closer than you’d anticipated, “I guess I was trying to deal with being in the same room as you.” You joked, with a dry chuckle. He seemed amused, “You really can’t stand me that much?”
You bit your lip, glancing up at him, wondering if he missed all the obvious signs tonight, “You know that’s not true.”
“And I know that your head’s not really spinning.” He said without pause. You frowned, straightening up, “How could you possibly know that?”
His lips curled up, and he could probably hear your pounding heart, “You didn’t even have a single sip tonight. I was looking at you the entire night.”
So he noticed that all you drank was water tonight, but you had to keep up appearances, “You’re accusing me of lying?”
“Maybe you’re just trying to keep me in here with you.”
Your voice dropped, “Why would I do that, Hyunjin?”
His eyes crinkled, an amused expression on his face which was so cocky that it pissed you off and turned you on at the same time. He said, “I don’t claim to know your secret agenda.”
“I don’t have an agenda.”
He shrugged, a smile playing at his lips, “Spilling wine on yourself on purpose sure makes it seem like you have one.”
“What are you talking about?” You gasped, laughing in disbelief at his accusation, “Why would I do something so stupid?”
“Because you knew I’d follow you.” He gripped the marble counter behind you, caging you between his arms. You lost your words, heat rising to your cheeks, and suddenly reality was settling in. He was closer to you every second, and you could see every detail on his face - you could see yourself in his eyes, and his lips were so close to to being on yours. The situation seemed all too familiar, and you had to think straight. You couldn’t let yourself be driven by lust again, you couldn’t just be conveniently kissing him, no matter how much you wanted it, without knowing what it meant to him. You mumbled, hands reaching up to his chest, like a physical barrier between your bodies, and it took you strength to do and say so, “Hyunjin…you can’t kiss me if you’re just going to leave again.”
His voice was soft, “I think for me to leave you tonight, someone would have to kill me."
Something in you shifted, and your body was buzzing and tingly all over. He never had trouble leaving you before so you couldn't understand, “What... changed?”
He paused, as if finding the right words, “Even when you were gone…you were everywhere.”
His gaze fixated on yours, like he could see right through you, into your soul, and maybe he could this entire time. Maybe that’s why everything he spoke was thoughts you’d kept hidden, and every touch felt like coming home. When he was gone, he was everywhere too. If you ever needed more of a sign...then this was it. There were so much you could say to him in that moment, but you just settled for saying, “You were right.” 
He was incapable of looking in your eyes, gaze fixated on your lips, “About what—?” And in the same second, you pulled him to you, unable to keep any of this charade up longer, fists knotted in his shirt, crushing his lips to yours. 
A surprised noise left his mouth at your urgency but Hyunjin was a lover before he was anything else and so he recovered within seconds, grabbing your face to kiss you back. His grip was tight, and desperate, and you pushed him until he was against the door. His lips tasted of a strange combination of red wine and of strawberry tart, and he pressed his mouth to yours so hard it could bruise, one hand around your neck, the other gripping your jaw, and it wasn't enough. He only pulled back to breathe, and let out a breathless chuckle, “I was right about what?”
“I did drop the wine on purpose.” You admitted, wondering his reaction, but he just immediately grabbed you again, crushing your mouths together again. It was stupid but you just needed to be alone with him, and it was the only way you could think of. He laughed in between the kiss, “That’s so stupid.” He pressed you to the counter, hands tight on your waist, knocking over whatever Kairi had so perfectly curated on the countertop. Your head spun with desire, and he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He accommodated you so easily, tilting his head to kiss you better, falling back into this rhythm like it was natural to your body. You let go of his shirt, leaving it crinkled, so you could tug at his hair. His hands were everywhere. Around your neck, in your hair, at your waist. He groaned, pulling away for a second to mumble, “I missed you so much. You could have just asked me... And I thought I did stupid things to get your attention.”
“I missed you too.” You breathed, hands resting at the nape of his neck, sifting through his hair as you looked up at him, doe eyes, and since he wanted you to ask him, you would, “Please kiss me again.”
He didn’t hesitate, pressing his lips to yours and grinning into the kiss. Your hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans, and you tugged at them, trying to unbutton it. He must have sensed your urgency, a whine mixed in between your pecks, so he grabbed your thighs, lifting you onto the marble countertop. He didn’t stop kissing you for a second, fingers skimming your skin, sending a rush through your body, and his tongue slipped into your mouth again, and you wish you could swallow each other whole.
You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, so reminiscent of the first time you’d kissed him. It had been on a night like tonight, and the longing had built up so much it was pouring out of you. All of this pining certainly couldn’t be good for the two of you by the roughness of your touches, like you were both afraid to be pulled away from each other. You tugged at his sweater, pushing it up to his chest, so you could touch his skin. Your hands were cold, and he shivered at the touch, but he didn’t stop you, kissing your jaw at the same time you felt him up. Your head tilted to the ceiling as he trailed kisses down your neck, you let your hands explore his body, feeling the muscles in his abdomen and tightening your hold on him. He was so compliant. He was so desperate. You felt him undo your bow, unzipping the dress. A fire burned within you, and his name was a familiar moan on your lips, “Hyun…”
“Yes, baby?” His voice was hoarse, and his mouth and his face was covered in your red lipstick. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. A giggle escaped you, and you brushed your thumb against his lips, “You have some of me on you.”
He shook his head, unbothered, leaning in to kiss you again, “I have all of you in me.”
It meant something deeper than red lipstick. It meant so much that you could probably wonder about it for days, but you just grabbed his face in your hands, cupping his soft cheeks. All of him was in you too. He was a part of who you were, and you couldn’t recall a time before Hyunjin in your life. He kissed your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck. It was hard to think straight when his mouth was sucking on you, and the bulge in his pants was pressing against you. You're sure Kairi kept a condom in here somewhere. You would let him fuck you. Right here. Right now. But a familiar worry festered within you, and it was physically impossible to pull back from the kiss as you whispered, “Wait.. you’re sure about doing this?”
He opened his eyes to look at you, and he looked so lovesick, eyes-half lidded, breathing heavy, hair messy and your spit and lipstick coating his lips, “About what?”
You touched his face, tracing your fingers over his cheeks and his pretty mouth, tracing it all to memory again after it had been ripped away from you for all this time. Perhaps you were ruining the passion of the moment, but you couldn’t let yourself go through that heartbreak again, “I don't want you to regret this. You said you didn’t want to start something that could put you…or the band at risk. So are you sure about…what we’re doing?”
It seemed to be Hyunjin’s biggest fear — a relationship, falling in love, somebody finding out about you. His company. His managers. His fans. The press. The rest of the world. 
“I was sure the minute I asked you to stay, Y/N.” He whispered, kissing you again, “You’re…everything to me.”
The confession seemed drastic from the Hyunjin who had pushed you away countless times, from the Hyunjin who kissed you only to tell you he could never want a relationship. Yet you still didn’t know what he actually wanted. Would he wake up and regret this? He kissed the corner of your mouth, like he couldn’t get enough of you, squeezing you in his grip, and said, “I’ve been doomed for you ever since I saw you. Nothing changed. I just…decided to stop fighting it.”
His words implied a sense of… inevitability and fate. You were doomed for him too. No matter what pulled you apart, something pushed you together always. It felt like an endless cycle…a trajectory you two were on that neither of you could control. Your eyes widened, and you'd never been this happy, “You’re…not just saying this because you’re drunk?”
He smiled at your words, cupping your face, “I’m not drunk, Y/N. If you really want to know what changed…the past month, I’ve just been feeling so fucking stupid. Seeing you with somebody else. I think I wanted to die when I saw you kiss Nate…and not being able to talk to you about everything, god, for the past few months, I couldn’t get you out of my head and I would have so much to say and no one to say it to…and then on the other hand, I see Chan the happiest he’s ever been, and I feel…so fucking stupid.”
His eyes seemed so sincere, so genuine and you whispered, “So…what are we doing to do now?”
“I guess... now we have to go back downstairs, because our friends are waiting for us…and you’re still soaked in wine.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, and he pulled you closer, like he didn't want to let you go.
“Right…” You trailed off, tightening your grip on him, “That’s probably what we should do.”
“Yeah. That’s the right thing to do.” He mumbled, but he was already eating up his own words, swallowing your breath, and pressing you to the mirror. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer in a starved, hungry kiss and it didn’t feel humanely possible to be closer than this. He let out a moan, pressing kisses to your lips, “Fuck, I missed you so fucking much.”
You nodded, matching his every frenzied kiss, “Me too. I want you so bad.”
This rush. It seemed to always consume you, and Hyunjin squeezed your tits through your dress, pushing the skirt up and you were both losing control again. He pulled back, restraining himself, “I…we shouldn’t do this here.”
He said that, but he still kept kissing you, and this was a vicious cycle you would always find yourself in. You had wanted him for so long that you didn’t care where you were, but surely…this wasn’t the place. Your first time being that intimate with him shouldn’t be on top of a marble bathroom countertop, with so much opportunity to be interrupted by your friends. You’d just be setting yourself up for failure if you continued. You pulled back from the kiss too, “I think somebody needs to physically separate us for that to work.”
He laughed, and his voice was hoarse from all the kissing, and his lips were swollen. You were capable of waiting a while, instead of jumping each others bones right now. You were both adults, and you could restrain yourself. It was hard to take him seriously with imprints of your lipstick on his mouth. It made him look romantic. It made him look like yours. You wish you covered all of him in it, lip prints over his whole body, leaving no spot un-kissed. You’d missed him so much, it just felt dumb to stop now, but you did. He breathed in, calming himself, “You’re right. We…don’t have to rush.”
“Yeah.” You nodded, “I want to rush though.”
He laughed, fingers caressing your jaw so softly, “I just…I have to ask you something, before we go back downstairs—”
“Yes?”
“I know that I’ve acted stupidly about this in the past, but when I told you all those things, when I said that it’s a risk, that’s still true, Y/N. It’s still dangerous. You don’t know how wild it can get, if…anybody finds out about you. People are just looking for an opportunity to hurt us, me, the other guys, and…if you’re around me, then that includes you too. I can’t let anything happen to you, or hurt you. I would never forgive myself.” Hearing him talk made you afraid again. This was where it had always ended. This would be the last thing Hyunjin would always say to you, after kissing you. It always ended here, like a dead-end to your perfect dream, and you dreaded his next words, heart pounding like you'd pass out. You expected it.
But instead he said, “I want you. So much. I know that now, that nothing can replace the feeling of you.”
Your eyes were wide, and this was already a different direction than it. had ever gone last time, “What are you saying, Hyunjin?”
“I’m saying that…if we…really do this, there’s going to be a lot of…discretion. It’s probably going to be difficult and frustrating as fuck, and we’re both going to have to be really careful. Is that… really okay with you?”
You understood what Hyunjin was asking you. If you and him were to be together, it could only be a thing of secrecy. 
It wouldn’t be a relationship you dreamed of. Nothing about it would be normal, or usual. It would only exist behind closed doors, and in storage closets, and in the privacy of your bedrooms. If you and him were to continue this…it would always have to stay a secret. 
It would be hard to restrain your love for him, but in all honesty… you had done nothing else since you were fifteen and saw him in the art shop. You had loved him since then, and you could love him in any circumstance, even if it was in secret. Going back to not having him in your life was impossible. You leaned in to kiss him, to remind yourself of how real this was, and how much he was worth to you. An excitement bloomed in your chest from what was to come as you whispered against his lips, “I guess it’s a good thing then that I’m good at keeping secrets.”
»»————-
masterlist ⇒
please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 
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glassrowboat · 20 days
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Daydream in a Nightmare
Authors note: I read a soulmate au where with dream sharing. Everytime you fall asleep you and your SM would meet in a world that would reflect your consciousness and who you were. So down below are the boys and what I think the places their dreams would depict.
Mondstadt
Diluc: The cathedral. His mom, back when she was alive, used to play during service and afterwards Diluc ran over greeting her with the biggest smile, asking her to play him one more song. She never failed to. Maybe that's why there's always a gentle melody playing whenever you see him as he rests his fingers over the same white tiles, simply trying to remember how to play.
Kaeya: The Dawn Winery. Or at least parts of it. Behind closed doors there's the scent of grass, of dirt, and the faintest smell of ash. He says it's simply the vineyard that in the real world would be right outside, but he knows well as he pulls your hand from the doorknob that it's ruins of a fallen nation haunting him right on the other side.
Albedo: Glass walls. A maze of mirrors and reflections. If you ever have stopped to bother to count between Albedo’s musings as he shares with you the secrets of the world, you'd notice that for some reason he always has more reflections in the walls around you than of your own figure. Like there's more of him than there is of you.
Venti: Old Mondstadt. Back before the revolution, back when there were people in the streets wishing their God weren't so unjust, but in his dreams that wall of spiraling wind is never there. A warped perception of a life he wished to have lived as he sits in your lap not as Venti the bard, but a wind sprite trying to bury into your clothes for warmth. Just don't call him pipsqueek or he'll try and bite your fingers. Playfully. You think.
Liyue
Zhongli: A place that no longer exists, one torn away by this world during the archon war. It's unlike him not to comment on a place, a trinket, an item, as you pick something up and fiddle with it, but this place he never goes into full detail on. However, he will tell you all about the artisanship of the table you two are sharing tea over.
Baizhu: His home back in Chenyu Vale, back before the illness hit his village, back before his parents passed away. Just a modest home that shows signs of being truly well lived in and loved. Mindlessly while you two talk he'll be cleaning the place, just the way he always does at the pharmacy. Though it does help give him something to fill the silence. It turns out he's a lot more used to Changsheng chiming in with comments than he thought. He just hopes you two get along when the time to meet in person finally comes about.
Ga ming: A festival. There's water kicking up at everyone's feet, up to everyones ankles as people with their face covered in all manner of masks walk you both by. Ga ming would pull you along from booth to booth, trying his best to win prizes despite the fact you both know they'll be gone by the time you wake.
Xiao: A Chinese pavilion in the sky. You walk among the clouds as you follow the path of the street, looking over the accents that seem somehow both rich in color and dull, muddied all at the same time. Something you've noticed from his dreams compared to yours, his always have a lingering black fog creeping in at the corner of your eyes. It makes you feel like someone else is in this world with you, like there's eyes waiting to do more than just watch.
Inazuma
Kazooha: A meadow. The wind passes you both by, stirring up pages of books you two sit reading in silence. You can't help but wonder if these are all books he's read before, especially the ones that wax poetry or something else. His thoughts, perhaps? Maybe Kazuha's very own writings? But that matters little as his head is resting on your shoulder as you try to catch words between the fluttering sheets of paper.
Itto: A kabuki play. It always ends up in you two hiding away in the back room where the performers would get ready before getting back out on stage for the next act. You would see the brightest of colors, richest of fabrics, and practiced movements so fine tuned that you can't understand why Itto is so focused on taking the makeup on the vanity in the back simply so he can paint your face with red marks just like his. To each their own you suppose, and who are you to complain when it means drawing hearts on his arm when Itto isn't paying attention?
Gorou: A tea house. It's a small place, simple, but certainly not lacking charm as Gorou pours you a cup. At first the fact you could actually taste the rich herbs on your tongue in this dreamscape threw you off, but now it's just another part of this odd reality. But saying that, the first time you spat out the drink he offered as soon as the bitter taste hit you. Apparently he never expected you to not already be used to green tea. The poor fella was apologizing for the rest of the night, ears laid flat on his head and tail tucked between his legs. It's okay though, you made it even by trying to give him dog treats. It was you having to beg for forgiveness then.
Thoma: It was different this time. No glowing blue flowers and a forest that you two would stroll through mindlessly while chatting for hours. No, this time Thoma was sitting on a wooden platform below a giant stone statue. Intriguing, yes, but mattered little compared to the rope burns around his wrist. He tried to tell you not to worry about it. That it was an accident. But that mattered little as your lips pressed to the red, irritated skin and he gave you a strained smile. You knew better than to ask about it more from there.
Ayato: It's ever changing. It's like he is constantly thinking of something whenever He falls asleep and it reflects in his dreams. Once it was a Japanese styled room the next it was some room in Fontaine's architecture. But it's always a bedroom. A place of relaxation as Ayato buries his head in your lap like it was a pillow. He'll whine about being overworked until you're tempted to pull on his hair just to make the man shut up for once, but last time you did that it led to the bed being used for a lot more than just rest. For now just pat his head and let him vent, the man needs it.
Sumeru
Kaveh: A sketch brought to life from his mothers blueprints. One he saw his mother sketching back when Kaveh was a boy and she would let him sit on her lap, let him comment on the drawings. She would always find some way to incorporate his addictions into the sketch. Nowadays he knows the building that was actually constructed in the end to be simpler, duller than the one his mother wanted, but in his dreams with you it stands tall and proud.
Al Haitham: An attic. It's dusty and it clearly had a hole in the roof that was covered over by some wooden planks and nails. A patch work job that needs to be fixed but if you ever take the time to bother with it while Al Haitham sits in an old rocking chair covered by a quilt reading the night away it will only be there the next dream cycle. It pisses you off. He pisses you off. All nonchalance and an apathetic look even as you plop yourself in his lap and take that book away. And what pisses you off even more? How he dares to call you needy as he holds you close. It's best to ignore the fact he started reading over your shoulder.
Tighnari: Pardis Dhyai. He'll sit on the walkway watching you kick the water of the ponds around, paying no mind to when you splash at him. Not anymore at least. He's learned quickly if he makes a snarky comment you'll give one back and it'll go on and on until somehow it ends in him getting dragged into the pond with you. Both dripping algae filled water as he wondered what gods made this numbskull his mate.
Cyno: Lambad's Tavern. Everytime he would come back from treks in the desert he would go there, get a drink, and play a round of cards with whoever was willing. It was a pattern. Work, work, rest, and more work. But now he didn't have to constantly be on work mode as he sat with you in the old booth shuffling cards as he tried to explain to you how TCG works. So far everytime you lose you've thrown those elemental dice and him, and with a smile he lets them hit him in the head despite being fully able to dodge them. His soulmate is such a sore loser.
Wanderer: Shakkei Pavilion. He hates it. Hates that this is the place his unconscious has chosen to sink onto so stubbornly. His wooden fingers would slide over the paintings depicting Scaramouche’s past that has now been severed from him in everyone's eyes but Nahida and the Traveler. If you knew, would you still hold his hand? Would you still trace the details of his joints and comment that you find his pretty face such a stark contrast to his sharp words? He's afraid to find out, the idea that you might be his fourth betrayal always lingering in the back of his mind.
Fontaine
Neuvillette: Under the water where the currents would carry stray bits of seaweed and fish swimming past. The first time you shared a dream with him here he had to calm you down as instinctively you held your breath, taking your hands in his and assuring you if he can talk like this, you can suck in air just as well. It took some time getting used to, but now he watches as you grab starfish off the ocean floor and bring them over to him like a prize to be presented. This is what humans must be like Neuvillette tells himself as you braid them into his hair.
Worcestershire sauce: A home. A nice one at that. Big, had decent furnishings, pictures of kids hung up on the wall. If you listened closely enough you could even hear children playing outside from the cracked open windows that showed the brightest sky outside. Wriothesly would walk behind you as you would watch the grass blowing in the wind, not saying a word as he rested his chin on top of your head. He never thought he'd be back here again. The very place made him feel sick to his stomach, but with you? It was bearable. Even as you tried to grab his handcuffs from him.
Snezhnaya
Childe: His childhood home. Back before the renovations he bought for the place with his money as a harbinger, back before the redecorating of rooms to fit more children, and back to what the house was like when he was just a boy yet to fall into the abyss. Back when everything was simpler. He would pick up toys that have gone missing, never to be seen again and stare in wonder how it all is exactly how he remembers it. It makes it so much easier to be Ajax with you, rather than Tartaglia.
Dottore: The hospital he was working in when trying to help Eleazar patients. For the life of him does he hate it, being back in the desert always having to tip his shoes out of sand that never seems to fully clear off. It doesn't help you try and pour sand down his shirt, but in a way he supposes it's better you two stay out here under that blistering sun than you going inside to be met with the smell of death. No, you don't need to know about that side of him just yet.
Pantalone: His office. It always makes it hard to tell at first if he's awake, not when the same scene greets him either way. You always joke about him being married to his work and you're the mistress in this relationship. At this point he counts on the comment as soon as his eyes flutter open and he's greeted with the sight of you sitting on the desk he's been using as a pillow. Still, he can never help the genuine smile at seeing you once again.
Captain: A flower field. The snowdrops peek out from under the fluffy blanket of white powder, crunching under every step he takes. Even in his dreams the cold of Snezhnaya is ever present, ever biting. It only makes sense you are shivering behind him even as he lets you steal his cloak that is more of a blanket on you than anything. This field, he knows it well, knows that what waters these flowers is more blood than anything else, but that matters little as he wraps his arms around you. Maybe he can find a way to dream you a proper jacket.
Pierro: A grand hall. It reminds you of the way ballrooms are described in romance stories as the couple depicted would dance the night away. Columns so high you have to tilt your head back just to see where they meet the ceiling covered in paintings you've never seen before. That is until Pierro steps into your view. He always offered his hand to you before you could ask, and as your fingers interlocked he would tell you about them. Always ready to answer your questions. It meant someone was curious about a part of his long lost nation. So, of course, he was always happy to share.
Scaramouche: A never ending fire. It's a small shack, engulfed by flames that never seem to dwindle or burn out the wood it feeds on. Like this place was stuck in time in his mind. He doesn't talk to you, not any more than a sharp shut up. The only time that glare he showed you disappeared is when you pulled your hand back from the curious fire with a hiss, not expecting it to actually hurt in this fake reality. For a moment you could have sworn he took a step towards you, but he never came any closer than that as he hissed at you to be careful. Dumb mortals should at least know not to burn themselves.
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rageserenity · 1 month
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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luveline · 8 months
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Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?
Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done
thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve
cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress 
Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.
He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin. 
"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly. 
You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had. 
"Steve," he corrects. 
"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?" 
"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more." 
"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress." 
"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?" 
"It wasn't gross," you say softly. 
"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring." 
You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it." 
"You're too mean to yourself," he says. 
Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble. 
It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches. 
Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again. 
"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches." 
Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency. 
"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?" 
"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake." 
"Did someone say that to you?" 
"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.  
He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week. 
You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists. 
To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does. 
"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?" 
"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers. 
"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock. 
"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask. 
"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?" 
Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.
There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met. 
"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile. 
"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional." 
"And you as mandatory?"
"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."
You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife. 
"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages." 
He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.  
if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing
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2hightocare · 2 months
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LOVE WAGER! 01
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Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?
Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.
Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!
a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌
★ masterlist!
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3 years ago…
You were a hopeless romantic.
Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.
The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.
The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.
It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.
You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?
You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.
Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.
Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.
You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.
“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.
“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’
Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.
“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.
“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.
“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.
“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.
“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.
“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.
“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.
“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.
“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.
“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.
“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.
“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.
“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.
“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.
“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.
“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.
2 years ago..
The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.
You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.
“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.
Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.
“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.
“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.
“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.
“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.
As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.
“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.
He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.
“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.
“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.
You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.
“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.
“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.
“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.
“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.
“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.
His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.
“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.
“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.
“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.
“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.
“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let’s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.
He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.
“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.
You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.
A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.
“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.
Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.
“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.
“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.
“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.
Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.
He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.
Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.
Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.
He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.
He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.
Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.
Present day..
Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.
As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.
You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.
As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.
While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.
“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.
He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.
“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.
Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.
“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.
“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.
“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.
“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.
“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.
You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.
“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.
“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.
“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.
“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.
“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.
“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.
“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.
You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.
For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.
“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.
“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.
“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.
"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.
Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.
You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?
As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.
What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?
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Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)
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