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wishcamper · 3 months

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Don't Worry Feyre, Darling: the relationship anxiety to coersive control pipeline

CW: emotional abuse, reproductive abuse

Creds: licensed counselor with focus in addiction, trauma, and gay stuff; experience in group and family counseling, mandated DV clients, and abuse victim support.

Before the mob comes: I am not pro or anti Rhys, and I think his contradictions say much more about SJM than anything. I also believe it’s possible for a fandom to reclaim/rewrite a character who has been massacred by an author.

We’re going to begin at Rhys helping Feyre during an extremely dark place in both their lives. We’re going to end at him withholding vital medical information from her for the sake of “protecting her”. But first, some context.

Inside all of the (amazing) drama around the 2022 movie Don’t Worry, Darling , was a story that is pretty well worn at this point: men deciding they know what’s best for women and giving it to them whether they like it or not. In the movie, Florence Pugh’s Alice lives inside a computer simulation where she is the modern equivalent of a 50s housewife: dresses, calisthenics, martinis, “making a roast”. (She also gets eaten out by Harry Styles but that doesn’t seem to be an explicit part of the world’s design.) The problem? She doesn’t know she’s in the simulation. Harry Styles, in between all the cunnilingus, drugged her and put her in the program against her will. Yikes! Why!

The movie explains that he believed their life in the real world was miserable, and that he was saving her from that by giving her this perfect life. She should be grateful, if anything! What he doesn’t tell her, but that we see, is that Harry Styles also seems to struggle with a sense of inadequacy for not being able to provide. He is failing to live up to personal and cultural standards of manhood but, instead of dismantling those standards, he makes it his wife’s problem by kidnapping and brainwashing her consciousness. Hm. Interesting strategy. Let’s see how it works out for him.

With Rhysand, his motives in the beginning are more understandable - he initiates rescuing Feyre from the very real danger of Tamlin and her own mental decline. He feels justified breaking whatever magic law because of his own experiences being trapped and believing people should have a choice about where they go and who they are. He emphasizes over and over that these choices are Feyre’s and that she has freedom with him. We see through ACOMAF that helping her gives him a sense of purpose after the trauma UTM. His friends remark on how Feyre brought him back to life, never questioning and even encouraging this pattern.

But Rhys clearly has a lot of anxiety about his relationships and closeness in general. He mentions on several occasions that people around him tend to suffer because of him, and how afraid he is of doing that to Feyre. She is very receptive to this and puts effort into proving him wrong. He finds safety in the bubble of their relationship that probably feels pretty fucking good. The unfortunate side effect of this is that instead of processing and resolving his own anxiety, he directs it through Feyre and his love for her. Meanwhile, he keeps his anxious maneuvers behind the scenes, like not telling her about the bond, taking her to the Weaver, encouraging her to learn to read, to train. It may be genuinely helping her, but there’s also this sense of ‘I know what you need better than you do’. And again, nobody questions this.

We flirt with this tension at the beginning of ACOMAF when Rhys enforces their bargain from UTM. As the reader, at that point, we are supposed to believe this is cruel of him. He interrupts her wedding for fucks sake, throw your shoe at him girl! But over time we start to feel like it’s okay because Feyre secretly wanted it, it’s ultimately for her own good. Rhys is the most powerful High Lord in history, I’m sure he could’ve figured out a way to break the bargain, but he didn’t. In fact he engineered a situation where she'd be at his mercy. Why? Because Rhys was worried about Feyre, felt her deteriorating through the bond. Because of that, he felt justified in coming to collect. Personally, I have no opinion about whether crashing the wedding was the right or wrong thing to do. But it does set up, at least in the world of the book, that removing someone’s autonomy is okay if it’s for their own good, if the ends justify the means. In fact, that overstep ends up being the road to Feyre’s life in the NC and her love with Rhysand, a love that is so great she willingly tethers her very life to it. Even in ACOWAR we see how their relationship is a way he regulates his anxiety *cough*battlefield blowjob*cough*. He gets used to Feyre’s health and happiness being his source comfort and can continue to avoid dealing with his own shit internally.

In his seminal work Why Does He Do That?, Lundy Bancroft, a specialist in treatment of abuse perpetrators, debunks the various myths about what causes abuse and why it happens. His thesis is disarmingly simple: people abuse because they believe it’s justified. He says one of the signs of abuse escalation is “a growing attitude that he knows what is good for her better than she does”. Bancroft also notes that abuse is so hard to spot because “most abusive men don’t seem like abusers” (emphasis his) and that abusive men have periods of being charming, funny, even kind. Abusive men often don’t see themselves as such, because the strategy works for them - they feel good when they displace their emotional problems onto someone else.(1)

And then Feyre gets pregnant with a baby that could kill her. Besides the fact they really should have talked about this before trying for a baby given Rhys is mixed race (Cassian and Nesta too, but that’s a whole other post), Rhys claims a sense of ownership over his wife and child almost immediately. He’s constantly being described as smug and glowing with male pride. Even when he’s not smarmy, he’s consumed with his own ideas about protecting them and can’t hear the protests of others. We see his anxiety morph into more overt control in attempt to handle the situation. He believes he’s justified in keeping the danger from Feyre because he doesn’t want to stress her out. But that is not about Feyre, that’s about Rhys. HE is scared, HE is lost, and so he makes a decision on her behalf to lessen the burden he’s already carrying, whether he’s aware of it or not. He must keep her in a happy bubble else how is he supposed to go on.

Don’t Worry, Darling is at least critical of this ‘I know better’ motive even if the movie is stupid, and Harry Styles gets some frontier justice in the form of a whiskey glass to the back of the dome. But ACOSF condones Rhys’ actions and even insinuates our main character is deserving of death for calling him out. Bancroft writes that “part of how the abuser escapes confronting himself is by convincing you that you are the cause of his behavior”. He wouldn’t HAVE to do this if you just TRUSTED HIM.

But here’s what I think. I think Rhys has walked down a path of using his relationship to balance his internal conflict. Anxiety is a force in every relationship, but with Feyre he must maintain her beautiful life where she never worries in order to feel safe himself. I can have empathy for this, kind of - he’s suffered significant losses and it’s understandable he feels protective of those he loves. I think about celebrities with non-famous spouses, and how they avoid talking about them because they don’t want the scrutiny. I believe Rhys thinks he’s genuinely doing right by Feyre. But Rhys is so averse to his own anxiety that he can’t let himself trust anyone else to resolve it. He can’t let go of Feyre as his safe space and almost condemns her to die because of it.

And this is how, ultimately, Rhys traps himself. He tries to create a bubble where Feyre can never leave him, and ends up signing both their death warrants. I hope the world of fan fiction can redeem him, because I really don’t think Sarah can.

And yes, I know it’s faerie porn and it’s not that deep. But this is a series marketed toward an audience at risk of abuse and intimate partner violence. Bancroft lays out key points at the end of the book that feel particularly relevant to the larger conversation:

“Once we tear the cover of excuses, distortions, and manipulations off abusers, they suddenly find abuse much harder to get away with.

If Mothers Against Drunk Driving can change culture’s indifference to alcohol-related automotive deaths, we can change culture’s attitude toward partner abuse.

Everyone has a role to play in ending abuse.

If you are trying to assist an abused woman, get help and support yourself as well

All forms of chronic mistreatment in the world are interwoven. When we take one apart, all the rest start to unravel as well.”

Why Does He Do That? , Lundy Bancroft. https://ia800108.us.archive.org/30/items/LundyWhyDoesHeDoThat/Lundy_Why-does-he-do-that.pdf

#acotar #acomaf #acosf #rhys critical #feysand is dysfunctional #don't kill me #intimate partner violence #why does he do that?#prythian university #sjm critical

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caramel1mochi · 4 months

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One Hazy Winter [Iso x F! Reader] [1]

[ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 ]

Genre: Angst, fluff ‎

TW: Depression and implied suicidal thoughts (I swear it’s not all sad haha) ‎ ‎

Words: 4k ‎

Synopsis: One winter before his disappearance, you told your boyfriend Yu about a question you’ve had for so long; one even he could hardly respond to. It took many more hopeless winters for you to finally have your answer. ‎ ‎

NOTES: 'Tis the season! Ha, I rushed to get this out before Christmas was over. Christmas is still going, right? Happy holidays!! ‎ Anyway, this story is HEAVILY reliant on flashbacks and the past in general, so keep that in mind. Have a good read! ‎ ‎

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Winter, one year ago.

‎

If there was one thing you loathed with every inch of your being, it would be the winter season. It was a season that was associated with only despair and heavily encouraged death. Both physically and mentally. The death of plants, the death of animals, the death of people, just death in general.

And you hated it. You hated the overwhelming feeling of melancholy that would loom over you whenever snow would fall.

Your arms rested on the ice cold metal railing that overlooked a mystifying lake, one that had gotten frozen over the past week. The thick sleeves of your hoodie blocked the freezing temperatures like dutiful guards surrounding a castle. This comfort, however, felt like a miniscule droplet in the ocean of despondency you felt.

A tired sigh escaped you. And like a furious dragon, a vapour of pure white billowed from your lips.

‎

“Disgusting.”

‎

You muttered under your breath whilst you looked at the ice. In the distance, you heard something crack, and it took you only a few seconds to spot where it was on the icy surface of the lake.

‎

“Look on the bright side, at least.”

‎

Yu, your boyfriend, piped up from your right. He rested on the railing just as you did, with his jacket protecting him. But his upright posture and bright purple eyes conveyed something you didn’t: joy.

‎

“Like what?”

‎

“Look around you, observe the snow.”

‎

He pointed to the blankets of snow that surrounded the forest around the bridge, each snowflake collectively gathered to envelop every tree your eyes laid on. Like a mother huddled with her children on a cold night. To him, the landscape looked like a stunning painting, one meticulously slaved over by an artist who desired perfection over all else.

‎

“Isn’t it breathtaking?”

‎

Maybe to him. But to you? All you saw were dead trees, shells of the beautiful bearers of fruit and life they once were. That wasn’t to mention the corpses of animals buried under the feet of snow he was so enamoured by.

You rested your head on your arms in silence.

‎

“It’s winter.”

‎

Two words. Curt, but enough to summarise the maelstrom of thoughts that roamed your mind.

And it’s not like he didn’t know, either. He did, which was why, despite his optimism, he also started dreading this season once you both started dating nearly five winters ago. Yu placed one hand on your shoulder, the wooden planks under him loudly creaking as he stepped closer to you. Then, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer, the warmth from his body counteracting the one from the railings.

‎

“I understand.”

‎

For a moment, that was all he could say.

‎

“But… Y/N, you shouldn’t think about them every single day.”

‎

You shut your eyes and took in a deep, slow breath, allowing the cold air to be warmed on the way to your lungs.

As much as he denied it, and as stiff as his face was, Yu was incredibly expressive. Whenever he’d try to conceal how he felt, his body language simply betrayed him at every turn. He meant well, both of you knew that. Especially you. But Yu wasn’t exactly the best when it came to dealing with things like… this.

‎

“It’s difficult to get over them, Yu. It feels impossible.”

‎

Since Yu’s hands were gloved the whole way here, the slightly cold temperature of it didn’t bother you as much once his fingers intertwined with yours. Add on to the fact your hands were in your pockets, the warmth immediately cooled him down as he began gently outlining the lines on your palm with his thumb.

You lost your parents in one hazy winter. And every one after that would be a depressing reminder of that fact.

‎

“Every winter, I ask myself why I should keep going.”

‎

He paused.

‎

“What’s waiting for us at the end? Some silly award for putting up with this?”

‎

“Don’t say that. There’s more to life than baseless questions like that.”

‎

The white tint of the snow was bright. So bright, it began piercing your eyes, and you were forced to close them for a hint of relief.

‎

“What do you think?”

‎

You flipped the question on him, your words cutting through his benevolence like acid through a rotting cadaver.

Silence settled for a moment. Between it and the blankets of snow that surrounded you, you could hear Yu’s very pulse echo with each passing second. That, and how his lips parted. But for a moment, no words left his mouth, and he stayed quiet.

‎

“I… I don’t know.” He turned away. “I’m sorry. I don’t think about things like this.”

‎

It figures, you thought. Nevertheless, he began outlining the lines on your palm all over again, and the sound of the shuffling in your pocket as he did this started to stick out to you.

A few rapid clicks caught your attention. And once you lifted your head, you noticed a peculiar sight.

A bird had landed on the lake’s icy surface. Though it was a few dozen feet away from you, somehow, It felt as if all the sound waves were channelled in one direction just to reach you, and you could see it with clarity that would rival a telescope. With each step, you heard a loud click. And each time it pecked at the ice under it, you heard a little pick that accompanied it.

You wanted to ask why there was a bird here. Around this time, they’d usually disappear and leave the grey sky more dreary and lifeless than it ever could be. So… why?

You diligently watched it stretch its stunning wings, shades of blue reflecting off of the sunlight and complementing each other. Somehow, it spawned various new shades on its wings. Like ballet dancers, the colours played off each other's movements gracefully.

You lifted a hand and pointed at the bird.

‎

“It looks just like you.”

‎

Yu stopped to get a glance at what you were looking at. Then, he chuckled.

‎

“You think every bird looks like me, Y/N.”

‎

“I...”

‎

Your words were interrupted once the bird’s feathers reached outwards. For a moment, it puffed and formed a fluffy ball of white, blue and black, before it rapidly shook its head and relaxed all over again.

‎

“There. Did you see that?”

‎

“See what?”

‎

“It puffed up.” You met his gaze. “It looked just like you whenever you’d wake up.”

‎

Even on the hottest days of summer, Yu would have at least three blankets wrapped around him whilst he slept. That wasn’t to mention how messy his hair would be whenever you had the pleasure of catching him in this way. Yu grinned, pulling you closer as you both watched the bird for a few seconds.

A few short-lived seconds, until it flew away and disappeared into the clouds, cutting the enjoyable moment short.

But before melancholy would dare set in once more, Yu immediately turned to meet your gaze, his purple eyes glimmering under the bright winter sky. Just like the bird’s wings, the colours mixed with each other in a captivating manner.

‎

“How about we go home and watch a movie? I’ll even make you hot chocolate. What do you say?”

‎

“Movie?”

‎

A moment of silence settled.

But just as Yu thought he failed in his endeavour to cheer you up, all of his doubts evaporate once he saw a smile form. The sensation of such a move, though weak, still felt foreign to your face.

‎

“Can we take the movie out of the equation?”

‎

…

‎

“Definitely.”

‎

Before another word could be uttered, he suddenly pulled you much closer, trapping you in a warm embrace. And you couldn’t help but grin at such an unexpected yet sweet move.

‎

“Yu, we’re in public.”

‎

“You don’t know how much I missed your smile, Y/N.”

‎

“Be reasonable. It couldn’t have been that long.”

‎

You said, your words muffled as he had your face pressed up against the inside of his jacket. Your arms were wrapped around him to allow the heat to pass on over to you.

‎

“It has.” He muttered. “Longer than you think.”

‎

The pleasant fragrance of lemons entered your nostrils. Familiar, especially since it was the only type of musk Yu ever sought after. Other than yours, of course.

‎

❤ฺ·。

Winter, present day.

‎

You hadn’t seen or spoken to Yu once the week after that conversation. He didn’t answer his phone, and, like you, none of his acquaintances knew where he went. Even with the police alerted, he was still legally considered missing.

On your way to work that dreadful morning, you’ve had your eyes stuck on your phone the whole time you walked down that repetitive path. You were calling Yu for the umpteenth time in hopes that he’d miraculously answer. But just as expected, your call was sent to voicemail again.

He was gone.

And you didn’t shed a tear. Not that you didn’t care, quite the contrary, in fact. You lost a ton of people. He was just another added to the list.

With a deep sigh, you pocketed your phone and looked up at the sky, a group of clouds concealing its previously blue colour thanks to the season. White and pale, just like bones.

‎

Your fingers wrapped around the cold golden handle. And with one swift push accompanied by a cheerful ding of the bell above you, you’d entered the café you worked at. The warmth hit you like a slap in the face once you’d fully entered the café. The boring music inside, and not to mention the decor you were borderline sick of seeing every day.

Your boss, Ying, and another one of your co-workers were chatting behind the counter. But your entrance immediately halted the conversation and shifted their attention towards you.

‎

“There you are! I was getting worried.”

‎

“Hi.”

‎

Ying earned a boring greeting from you. Just like every other day. And just as you turned back to the counter, you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug.

‎

“Y/N, how have you been? Here– would you like me to make you something?”

‎

She pulled away and held your shoulders in hopes of catching a change in your expression this time, but there was naught.

Ying, despite being your boss, had been treating you like her daughter for the longest time. And with Yu’s disappearance, her treatment was laced with worry and an overwhelming desire to tend to your needs. But every time, she’d earn the same response accompanied by the same vacant look on your face.

‎

“I’d like to clock in.”

‎

“Would you like to take the day off instead? Take a moment to catch yourself?”

‎

Though you had no circles under your eyes or any other noticeable blotches, she still noted the subtle gaunt look on your face. Pale, lifeless skin, and that wasn’t to mention the dull heaviness in your pitch black irises. A massive contrast to Yu, whose very presence brought life to any location lucky enough to bear his presence.

You shook your head.

A sigh escaped her and her gaze turned to the ground for a moment. Then, an idea popped up.

‎

“How about some passion fruit juice? We still have some in stock from yesterday.”

‎

Ying said with that kind smile as she looked back up at you. It almost widened to a full-blown grin once your lids slightly lifted at this random offer. Passion fruit was your favourite. And she remembered, even though you mentioned it offhandedly many winters ago.

You still shook your head.

‎

“I’m not too fond of the artificial flavour.” You held her wrists and put her hands down. “Thank you, nonetheless.”

‎

It took you only two seconds to walk away from Ying’s benevolent aura and move behind the counter where the sickening one lay. The very creaks of the floorboards and the ticking of the machines churned your stomach.

‎ ‎

“I’m leaving. You need any help in here?”

‎

Your co-worker exclaimed, earning the same response you gave Ying twice. And with that, he immediately tossed the towel on the counter and walked out, leaving your boss in the awkward position of asking the same question.

‎

“Y/N?”

‎

“I’ll be okay.”

‎

Juxtaposed to the loud slam emitted from the door once your co-worker left, as if to announce his departure, for Ying, it was a gentle woosh of the wind, followed by a click once she’d closed the wooden door. You didn’t even realise she left until you lazily glanced at the exit for a moment, then turned to the task at hand.

‎

You grabbed the towel and began wiping the counters. The hum of the refrigerators around you remained as the only thing that broke the heavy silence that encapsulated the small café.

Everyday was the same routine. Wake up, go to work, go home and wait for sleep. At this point, the only thing amiss today was Ying’s offer to make you passion fruit juice. A delightful offer, but the juice here was artificial sugar. If anyone would know that, it was you.

You jumped once you felt a hand on your shoulder, looking over to see Ying.

‎

“Oh, Ying, I– I assumed you left.”

‎

“No, I merely closed the door.”

‎

Your pupils dilated as you took in her soft features once more. But before you could allow this conversation to blossom, you turned away and continued wiping the counters.

‎

“Y/N, are you okay?”

‎

“What makes you think otherwise?”

‎

“Every day, you look more and more like a zombie. I… I cannot help but worry every second you’re not with me.”

‎

With a loud clunk, you set down one of the cups on the marble counter and stared at the wet towel in your hand, its temperature combining with the one around you to freeze your bare hand. But that didn’t matter to you. There was only one thing that caught your eye; its colour.

Purple.

A deep sigh escaped you, but you didn’t dare lift your chin to look at your boss.

‎

“When are we opening?”

‎

Ying held herself and watched you continue working.

‎

“Please, just speak to me. I fear the day you won’t walk through that door, and I feel as though it’s coming very soon.”

‎

“Enough with the fear mongering. I just don’t want to talk, okay? I don’t even want to look at you.”

‎

She opened her mouth, but the words were lodged in her throat. Clearly, though those words escaped you without second thought, Ying was still taken by surprise.

You needed to act fast.

‎

“Everything reminds me of them, Ying. And you remind me of him now. More than ever.”

‎

“I… I understand. What you’re going through is horrible, nobody deserves to experience anything like this. But, Y/N, please,” she cupped your cheeks in her hands, “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

‎

You were forced to look up at the tall woman to even meet her gaze. And that, you hated. You hated how her features somewhat matched Yu’s. The more you scrutinised her, the more similarities you found. Their nose, lips, their height, and the way their silky black hair framed their face. Hell, even their soft voices matched.

‎

“You haven’t eaten breakfast today, have you?”

‎

Her amiable voice suddenly took on an incredibly stern tone, one alien to someone like her. And to say you were caught off-guard would be a massive understatement.

‎

“Pardon?”

‎

“You’re pale. Your blood pressure is low.”

‎

“Pressure…?”

‎

You watched Ying immediately pull away and rush towards the fridge, a gust of cold air hitting you like a whip. On another note, it was winter. Why the hell was the fridge still on?

‎

“Ah, I meant sugar, Your blood sugar. We need to get you something to drink!”

‎

You eyed the passion fruit juice she took out of the fridge, golden fluid swirling inside in a hypnotising manner. And with a slam of the fridge’s door, its movements grew more rapid and dramatic. Then, you met her gaze with a vacant expression.

‎

“Ying, I’m fine.”

‎

"For the love of God, please accept some help and get your sugar back up. Just this once, at least!"

‎

She desperately held out the juice for you. And, although you were incredibly reluctant, you gave in and grabbed it from her.

‎

“Fine, but if I’m going to drink juice, I might as well make it myself.”

‎

Ying’s eyes bore into yours whilst you twisted the green plastic cap. Then, a particularly contagious smile lifted her pink lips. That statement must’ve evoked something within her.

‎

“Do you still remember how?”

‎

“What? Of course I do–”

‎

“Wonderful! Then I’ll take out everything you need.”

‎

She lit up and trotted over to a nearby counter, her large black ponytail swaying with each step. Ying immediately bent down and took out a few dusty slick grey boxes from inside, but your eyes were only focused on the dust that fell to the ground with every box she took out.

A mess you’d have to mop up.

Nevertheless, you took a sip and immediately grimaced at the unnatural flavour.

‎

“I bought a container of passion fruit yesterday, but I was afraid you’d be offended had I asked you to make some again.”

‎

"Why would I be offended by that?"

‎

With a huff and a loud thud, she slid out the blender’s box onto the ground. Then, she fixed her posture and grabbed it on both sides, ready to lift it.

‎

“I did not wish to pressure you into making this again. I understand your circumstances, however…” she lifted the box and set it on the counter, meeting your gaze with a smile, “your products are very addictive!”

‎

You took another sip in silence and set the drink next to the cash register, before moving to the fridge to take out the container of passion fruit.

‎

“Do you need any help with those?”

‎

You shook your head and took out a spoon and a bowl. It didn’t take long for her to catch on to what you were trying to do, clasping her hands together nervously.

‎

“Are you going to wash and scoop all those seeds? Alone?”

‎

“Are there people outside?”

‎

She glanced at the wooden double doors. If the massive windows on the walls weren’t enough, the doors allowed an even wider view of the sidewalk outside. Thankfully, the snow didn’t obscure much of her vision, either.

‎

“Ah… No, not quite. This morning is as idle as the others.”

‎

“Then I’ll do it.”

‎

She smiled and nodded.

‎

“I admire your patience.”

‎

That was all she said before she turned to unbox the blender. Thankfully, she let the silence in the air settle and allowed you to work alone. At this point, the conversation already grew exhausting enough. You couldn’t be bothered to say another word.

‎

❤ฺ·。

‎

Winter, three years ago.

‎

At first, it started out a chivalrous act.

One day, Yu, your co-worker at the time, randomly offered to escort you to and back from work with a peculiarly red set of cheeks. You said yes. Not that you needed the protection. And quite frankly, looking back, it was clearly a thin veiled attempt for him to get close to you; but you still entertained the offer and walked with him. It quickly became a day to day thing.

First, you’d see him by the gates every morning and head to the café.

Afterwards, once you both went back, you’d part ways at said gate. He’d go to the bus to return to his house, and you’d go up to your apartment. But after you started dating, he started sleeping over. Then, he began spending more time in your cramped home instead of his lavish abode.

Then… Well, to say he simply ‘took over’ would be an understatement.

‎

Once the both of you had arrived at the entrance that would lead to your dwelling, you took off the earbud and handed it back to Yu, promptly pushing the thick door to your apartment open. Back then, whenever you’d enter, the gust of air that enfolded you used to have a… melancholic feel to it.

Now, it was anything but.

‎

“Every day you visit, this place looks less and less like the house I live in.”

‎

You randomly commented, not bothering to glance at him as you spoke. An audible creak echoed through the small area. Then, with a loud flick, the lights switched open and allowed the comfort of familiarity to finally envelope each of you.

‎

“How do you mean?”

‎

“Look around. Look at what you’ve done to my home.”

‎

You haphazardly gestured around you whilst turning on more lights. And it was only after a moment of confused silence did he finally respond to your comment.

‎

“I’m not following.”

‎

You turned around, and both of your eyes bore into each others’. Judging by the blank expression he carried, he truly looked lost. So… you’d show him.

You held his hand and guided him down the entrance hall towards the living room, and pointed at the couch that faced the television mounted on the wall. Just looking at it proved your point, seeing how it was covered with blankets.

‎

“Two blankets,” you then pointed at the armchair on the corner where another one sat, “three,” the other armchair, “four,” the heaters, “and five.”

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You turned to face him with crossed arms.

‎

“And the three on my bed.”

‎

By the time you finished pointing everything out, both of you had stopped at the doorway that led to the corridor. He knew by the way you pursed your lips; you definitely weren’t done yet.

You took a deep inhale, finally taking in the air that lingered around you like a lovesick ex.

‎

“It smells like the inside of a lemon, as well.”

‎

Yu smiled politely once you had finalised your sentiment. Sure, your tone was dry, but he wasn’t insulted. In fact, judging by his upright posture, he seemed quite proud of how he unwittingly changed up the place.

‎

“I... hear you. On another note, it's been three years and I still haven’t gotten to the balcony yet.”

You raised an eyebrow. He just couldn’t be subtle even if his life depended on it.

‎

“I’m not giving you the keys to the balcony, Yu.”

‎

“Just a peek?”

‎

You turned away and began taking off the heavy jacket you wore, earning a particularly endearing huff from him. The shadows on the ground let you know he crossed his arms and turned his gaze away to the living room. Probably eyeing the blankets on the couch you pointed out just a few minutes ago.

He muttered something under his breath. But before you could ask him what it was, he immediately moved over to the couch. Huh. Your hypothesis was correct.

‎

Not paying him any mind, you began slipping off your boots and taking off the hair tie that started to give you a headache.

Then, your eyes widened once you heard a distant spray. You immediately turned around.

“Yu, we don’t need anymore–”

‎

The words were lodged in your throat once you realised he wasn’t spraying the room with his lemon mister again. He wasn’t doing that at all, no. Instead, he was misting the potted plant set in the corner of the living room. Holes lay in the edges of its dull leaves. And thanks to the weak sunlight that bled through the windows, you could see that the soil was dangerously dry, as well.

You stepped up solemnly, watching him mist it.

‎

“How long has it been since you last watered this?”

‎

Judging by the curious tone, you knew that he wasn’t mocking you. He just wasn’t as knowledgeable as you were when it came to plants. You nervously clenched your fists and turned your gaze away, eyes landing on the dark vinyl flooring.

‎

“I… must have forgotten about it.”

‎

Of course you did. It was a miracle you even slipped out of bed every morning, let alone take care of something like this.

A gentle pat on your shoulder snapped you out of your maelstrom of thoughts, and you hesitantly looked up to meet his gentle gaze.

“That’s okay. You were busy.” He chuckled. “It’s probably why the smell of lemons is so strong, right?”

‎

You playfully flicked his forehead with a vacant expression, before grabbing the mister from his hands and aiming it at the plant. That’s one incentive for you to take care of the plant, that’s for sure. Oh, but you’d never tell him that.

Nevertheless, you continued misting. And spraying water on it felt so… weird.

But also relieving.

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