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#everything's always ephemeral isn't it
apipefullofdreams · 1 year
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today, I hate you
because you made me believe in love,
spinning in a pretty dress at high school homecoming,
you made me believe I could be the one someday.
today I hate you because you left me crying alone
at lunch a few too many times,
because you told me I walked funny so now I
watch the ground to make sure I don’t do it anymore.
today I hate you because you made me promise
so many things a 15 year-old never should have to.
today I hate you because you took a child’s innocence
and made her compete with you in a game of
who could be sad enough.
today I hate you because I try to move on
and I still google your name to make sure
you’re not living out my 15 year old nightmares
lying on your bathroom floor bleeding out.
today I hate you because I try to find love
and I sit here with the insecurities you gave me,
because I feel like a 15 year old being abandoned
every time my heart gets broken by someone else.
today I hate you because I find you in every person
I want to kiss. they’re not you but
they’re always just like you.
it seems I want the emotionally abusive,
manipulative, piece of shits that can make me believe
I can be enough
until they take it away with a few sharp words.
so fuck you. today I hate you because I
never hated you enough.
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hyunjinspark · 4 months
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star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 18
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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: 33K
warnings: cursing, drinking, mature content, heavyyyy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, jealousy, unrequited love, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, whipped hyunjin, a big confrontation, lots of heartbreaks, mentions of diet, mentions of threats, toxic idol culture, a scene of unwarranted sexual advances! (not from hyunjin)
a/n: whew, this is another big chapter and picks up from hyunjin's pov after he moved back to the city, hope that's not confusing! there's a lot of toxicity surrounding idol culture, and features mature language and content throughout. please read the warnings to make sure you're comfortable with everything. this fic has taken a life of it's own, and im really enjoying focusing on yn's character arc, along with the obvious lovestory. this isn't a feel-good chapter, it features a lot of angst and uncomfortable situations, but i promise things will get better after this! anyway, this was very fun to write and picks up on one of my favorite arcs of this story. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. 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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Five Months Ago.
The electric blue guitar in Hyunjin’s hands felt familiar. He adjusted the strap around his body, he was getting used to the weight of it again. It had been a while since he’d touched it, fingers skimming over the strings. If he focused on this, he could ignore the blaring lights in his face. 
“Still not used to the spotlight, Jinnie?” Jisung asked, elbowing him in the stomach. Hyunjin doubled over, avoiding another attack from the man, “Ouch. The lights are brighter than I remember”
“Well, how else will they get our pretty faces on camera?” Jisung grinned, stepping in front of him, and thankfully blocking the heat of the lights. 
“I’m…really hot” Hyunjin declared, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead, “I hope they can fix the cooling in here”
Jisung sighed, lifting his guitar to help him tune it, taking the weight momentarily off his hands. As he did that, someone stepped up to Hyunjin, a little electric fan and makeup palette in hand, “Can you please hold this? Your makeup’s running”
“Sorry” He apologised, even though it was no one’s fault. The stage equipment and lights made the set far too hot, the air conditioning was broken and they’d only just begun. Hyunjin couldn’t fathom what the full day of filming would look like. He held the little fan to his face, the cool instantly relaxing his muscles with relief, shoulders sagging from tension. Jisung stood between them still, trying to tune his guitar and the makeup lady awkwardly stepped closer, patting down the foundation on Hyunjin’s cheeks, “Did you tan when you were away?”
“Um, I suppose. I was out in the sun a lot” He responded, but realised quickly that she didn’t really want a response. She was berating him because his usual foundation no longer matched him. Her lips pulled into a thin line, “You should be careful”
Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up. Careful about…what exactly? When he was in Daejon, swimming in the Creek, or lounging away in the sun, his first concern wasn’t exactly putting on any heavy sunscreen. He was away from the world of…such.
“He just doesn’t know his face would cost the company millions of won" Jisung joked. It was irresponsible, sure, but he had more important things distracting him at the time. At the memory of the bright Daejon sun, Hyunjin smiled, closing his eyes briefly to revel in the memory. If he thought hard enough, the blaring spotlights could almost replicate the southern summer sun. It was hard to get lost in his imagination though. The lady was prodding and poking at his face, turning him this and that side so she could fix him. This wasn’t the time.
“There. Try playing it now” Jisung said proudly, standing up straight and letting go of Hyunjin’s guitar. So he played a tempo to test it, and the music seemed perfectly fine now. In the end, it was futile anyway. The company didn’t allow them to play live in the music video. Apparently they had no faith that the boys wouldn’t mess up the instruments after such a long hiatus, and there was no time or money for retakes and reshoots. So, they would only pretend to play, and lip-sync the words and hopefully someone in the editing department would make it seem real. Still, Hyunjin was going to try his hardest to genuinely play. He hated pretending.
“Close your eyes,” The lady mumbled, an annoyed tone that frankly felt unwarranted. He followed the instructions, and felt the tip of a brush poking at his eyes as she reapplied some of the darker eyeshadow. The concept for this album was pop-rock, leaning heavily into the rock, and so their makeup was inspired from the 1980s world of rock.
“Did I do something wrong?” Hyunjin asked, as she used a little too much force on him, making his eyes water under the sharp brush.
“Hmm?” She was none the wiser, and he suddenly wondered if he should backtrack, but he wouldn’t be able to continue the filming knowing one of their makeup artists was possibly mad at him. “You…seem upset” He said. 
A sigh followed, “I’m not upset, I just think you should take better care of yourself. Jisung was right, you know? Your face does cost us thousand of won. I understand you’ve just come back from vacation but if you don’t do your job, it’s very difficult for me to do mine”
“Right” He nodded, sudden guilt overwhelming him, “Can I open my eyes now?”
With the confirmation, he did and looked at her, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful in the future” 
She smiled, pulling at his cheek, “It’s good to have you back, kid”
Within seconds, the set jumped back to life. Chan ran onto the stage, getting into his position, and Changbin followed. They were both visibly upset, due to the company not allowing them to sing live, but years in this industry had made them numb to some of that anger. Hyunjin took his place on the stage, as the cameras adjusted and thirty-something people gathered before them, ready to film. He wished he could sneak one look in the mirror before filming, for the reassurance that he didn’t look like a total clown, but he trusted the kind makeup lady. 
“All right, boys” Chan looked at them, microphone stand in his hands, “From the top, yeah?”
The backing track began on cue, and Hyunjin’s heart pounded like it hadn’t in ages. Maybe he wasn’t prepared to do a full-fledged music video shoot so soon after the hiatus. Did he even remember his chords right? The audience may not be looking at his hands, but he sure as hell would be. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a breath, hoping he didn’t mess up for the sake of their team. Millions of people would watch this. Thousands would instantly know they weren’t actually singing, and he had grown tired of the accusations. Most of those people would be rooting for his failure, and he could imagine the myriad of hate comments about how Hyunjin should never have returned to the band. Maybe it was a mistake being back in the spotlight so soon. Chan’s hand landed on his shoulder, startling him. He leaned in to whisper, loud enough for only Hyunjin to hear, “Forget everyone else, Jinnie. She’s going to love this”
A surprised smile tugged on Hyunjin’s lips just as the spotlight hit him, and the camera began rolling.
»»————-
Later that night, Jisung crawled into his bed. He pulled the blue comforter off Hyunjin’s aching legs, settling cross-legged across him. The filming had taken a toll on him, and he’d really let himself go when he was away. It usually took a lot more to get him this tired, and he was still adjusting to this new schedule. Jisung leaned against the wall, releasing a sigh of contentment. This had become second nature to them, a routine to sit, talk, and catch up on the past few months of summer. They’d stayed in touch through text, but it wasn’t the same. Some nights, they’d go for a walk, find an open barbecue place, and eat into the early hours of dawn. Other nights, they’d stay in the dorm and order some cheesecake, and Jisung would tell him everything he missed. Every anecdote, each funny moment, painstaking details of how many different ways he’d embarrassed himself. Hyunjin had missed a lot, so he’d sit and listen to the tales of the city that he’d pined for all this while. It was good to return to the life he’d left behind. Everything was different here, and sometimes it felt like summer had existed in a void away from the world. Jisung would also ask him about his hometown, but Hyunjin never knew where to start, so he preferred to listen to Jisung instead. He had a lot more to say anyway. 
Tonight was different. Jisung asked him about you.
And that wasn’t the routine.
“I don’t really know what you want me to tell you” Hyunjin laughed, and they were both tucked into blankets, like kids bonding at their first sleepover. 
“You’ve talked about this girl all freaking summer, and now you have nothing to say?”
“Well, yeah, you already know everything” Hyunjin mumbled, flush rising up. They never had this dynamic before, this…sharing of crushes, or whatever it could be called. Jisung was usually the one in relationships out of the two of them, and Hyunjin would never bug him about it. Not until Jisung told him himself. So, Hyunjin didn’t know what to say.
“Yeah, I know the shortened version you sent over text, but…how’d she react when you said you’re coming back?”
Hyunjin swallowed, memories flashing through his mind of his last night in his hometown, “She was really upset”
“Upset, like…didn’t talk to you kind of upset, or…had sex with you before you left— upset?”
The words sent a flush up Hyunjin’s neck, and he knew this was exactly what Jisung wanted. This was his intention. To embarrass him. To celebrate this new dynamic, when Hyunjin was the one with a stupid crush and not the other way around.
“We didn’t have sex” He clarified. Jisung’s eyes widened, “Really? Not even on the last night?”
Hyunjin leaned his head against the wall, playing with the threads of the blanket. The last night was complicated, for all the right and the wrong reasons, so he settled for the most matter-of-fact answer, “I didn’t have any condoms”
“Shut up, I know that’s not true. I sent you like a huge box your first week in Daejon. Don’t tell me you never used them…”
Hyunjin laughed at the memory, “Thank you for that Jisung, but…I’d already packed it away. I didn’t really expect anything to happen anyway. I thought she’d be too upset at me for leaving”
“So…that’s the only reason?”
Hyunjin swallowed, knowing that if perhaps they’d had an hour longer together that night, things would probably have led straight to that, condoms or no condoms, “Well…we were out of time”
“You spent months with this girl. How were you out of time?”
Hyunjin sighed, “There was no right moment. I didn’t want it to be rushed—”
“No rush? As if you wouldn’t bust a nut as soon as you’re—” Jisung was interrupted with a smack in the face by a pillow, voice turning high, “Ouch! What’d you do that for?”
“I’m not talking about this anymore” Hyunjin laughed, the red reaching the tips of his ears.
“That’s pretty unfair, you know. I used to tell you every detail of my relationship with Mae, down to the nitty-gritty details”
Hyunjin looked up at him. It had been a while since he’d talked about Mae so freely, and he swallowed, “How are you holding up?”
Jisung’s smile fell, humorous demeanour disappearing in seconds, “She’s happy now”
The statement meant so much more than he let on. Happy now. As in, she wasn’t happy before, when she was dating Jisung. Thinking back on it now, their breakup had been explosive, and it seemed like Jisung was still picking up the pieces. Was this what the rest of Hyunjin’s life would look like? Surrounded by miserable relationships destroyed by their careers. He can’t recall the last time he witnessed a love story with a happy ending. He sighed, “That sucks man”
Jisung shrugged, “It is what it is”
Hyunjin stretched out his legs under the blanket, letting out a soft groan, “Man, my limbs haven’t hurt like this in ages”
Jisung rolled his eyes, “You’re getting soft, big boy. We’re hitting the studio tomorrow at six. Album release is only a month away now”
His phone buzzed and he reached for it immediately. “Is that her?” Jisung asked, smiling.
“Yup” Hyunjin typed in a quick text to you, “She’s…telling me about her day”
“Is that all you guys do?” Jisung asked, a smirk on his face, scrolling up on their chats, without permission. He let out a dramatic gasp, “What are you writing her all these long-ass paragraphs for? It feels like I’m reading a book. Big red flag. At least break it up into multiple texts”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I mean, there’s a lot she’s interested to know about my life here. I like telling her what we’re up to. If you see it from an outside perspective, it’s pretty cool. She really loves it”
Jisung laughed, eyebrows wiggling like a kid, “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what she loves”
Hyunjin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Stop. We’re just…really close friends now”
“Does she know that?”
He didn’t like this conversation anymore and what it implied. He informed him for the umpteenth time, “I told her from the start that I don’t do relationships. She knows.”
Jisung was still scrolling through their chat, probably hoping to find something steamy but stopped at the media that Hyunjin had shared, letting out a gasp, “Wait a minute. Have you been sending her our studio recordings?” 
“Yes” Hyunjin frowned, “She likes those”
“You know, Eunwoo would have a heart attack if he knew you were leaking unreleased music”
Hyunjin sighed. Jisung was always so dramatic. “I’m not leaking anything. It’s only to her. She’s not going to show anyone”
“And how do you know that?”
“I trust her” Hyunjin’s reply was automatic, “More than anything”
Jisung smiled, eyes crinkling, tilting his head, “Even more than me?”
He chuckled, grabbing his phone back, “Shut up”
»»————-
He had been waking up earlier than usual, and he’d find himself at the kitchen table first thing in the morning, watching the sun rise through their apartment window. It was always fun to greet the boys as soon as they woke. He’d missed them for so long and he was trying to cherish every moment with them. Jisung would joke about how obsessed he was with them, often hovering like a parent around the house in the morning, waiting for their kids to wake up. It was strange because Hyunjin wasn’t an early riser, but his thirst to spend time with them overpowered his desire to lay in bed. He sat at the kitchen island scribbling ideas in a little journal Changbin bought him. It had admittedly become his diary, filled with crazy ideas, midnight thoughts, and sketches for paintings. 
The dance practices had got easier in the past weeks, and his limbs felt lighter. It almost took no time for him to get back to normal, sucked into the whirlpool of obligations that his life offered. There were so many interviews, press junkets, editorials, and he was back in the studio every night. He’d missed that grandly — getting to work on the music and, for the first time, writing his songs into the album. All of that made everything else worth it — like when they couldn’t leave their dorm because it was surrounded by paparazzi. They’d crowded around the building, hoping to get a glimpse at or any comments out of Jisung. Unfortunately, Jisung was still in the middle of a huge legal battle with the media that had leaked every detail of his personal life and relationship. Hyunjin didn’t understand how Jisung managed to still be so sane, after something like that rocked his world.
But slowly, he carved time in his life to start painting again, between schedules of course. An art shop in Hongdae was perfect for his needs. It was small and convenient, and he could be away from the public eye when he was in it. He found time for you. In changing rooms, backstage, in five-minute breathers between practice, he’d text you when he could. 
“You’re up early” Chan smiled, and Hyunjin looked up at him. He was already dressed, and he moved towards the light switch, turning them on, “You’re drawing in the dark?”
“It’s peaceful” Hyunjin hummed, “On set…it’s always too bright”
“Ah. Right. What are you sketching this time?” Chan moved over to him, glimpsing into his diary. 
“Just…a rough map of home. I’m writing down all the places, I wanna remember it. I don’t know when I’ll go back”
Chan smiled thoughtfully, “Is that your plan for the day?”
“No, actually, I was just about to head out to buy some flowers. I really want to draw some white hydrangeas, they won’t be in bloom for longer, and I’m hoping I can capture their whole life cycle”
Chan laughed, “Wow. It’s only six am and you’re already talking romance”
Hyunjin flushed, “It’s just for my drawings. I want to get better at observation. Speaking of, can I come watch you in the gym later? I…think I’ll draw you next”
Chan moved around the island, prepping a morning smoothie, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Jinnie”
“Of course not” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, continuing to add details to his little map, right now he was adding the 7/11 between your house and Aera’s. 
“Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be possible Jinnie. And…you’re probably gonna have to get the flowers tomorrow” Chan suddenly said, filling up the blender with ingredients.
Hyunjin frowned, “What do you mean?” But of course, Chan turned the blender on right then, so Hyunijn had to wait until he was done to find out. The loud whizzing sound filled the kitchen, and if the other boys weren’t up yet, they certainly would be now.
“Sorry about that” Chan apologised sheepishly, pouring the smoothie into four cups, and then eyed Hyunjin’s pajamas, “You should change into a coat, something warm. It’s chilly out”
Hyunjin tilt his head, suspicious, “Why?”
Chan slid him the smoothie, which Hyunjin hadn’t even asked for, and then grinned, “I’m kidnapping you”
“What?” He laughed, reaching for the cup anyway. He might as well start drinking healthy.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Jinnie. She’s a prodigy, she owns like a gazillion art galleries across the country, and she wants to meet you”
“Since when are you interested in art?” Hyunjin hummed, trying not to gag at the taste of the drink. It was all protein powder and whey. Chan smiled at the sight, leaning forward on the counter, “Since my best friend started drawing masterpieces, of course. Go get changed. I’ll drive us there, and if we have time before going to set, we just might be able to buy your flowers”
»»————-
The paintings in the art gallery were beautiful, and Chan was a good sport, taking just enough interest in the art that Hyunjin felt important in explaining all the techniques. They’d wandered around for a while now, eyeing every exhibition. Enough time had passed as they stood observing the room of sculptures, and Chan nudged him. He was diverting his attention to a woman with a tablet in hand as she walked around the space. The apparent prodigy. She seemed busy, pushing buttons on the tablet as she inventoried the place, a flurry of rich visitors following her around. Hyunjin had seen her before, and he asked, “Does she work in our building by any chance?”
“She certainly does. Hey, Karina!” He suddenly called out, “This is Hyunjin”
Hyunjin went wide-eyed and awkward, certainly unprepared to meet someone so important out of the blue, but Karina seemed sweet enough. Her gaze caught his, widening when she noticed them. She whispered something to her über important guests, and then walked over to them, all prim and poise. She certainly looked the part of an art gallery owner, although Hyunjin had never seen one so young before. She shot him a smile, “Ah. I’ve heard so much about you, Hyunjin”
“Oh no” Hyunjin had a funny feeling in his stomach, “What did Chan say?”
She laughed, “Nothing too bad. He showed me some of your work”
“He what?” Hyunjin cringed, “I’m sorry about that”
She laughed again, “Don’t apologise. Your work’s pretty good. Even before Chan, you were kind of hard to miss actually. Your face is plastered all across the company building”
Hyunjin cringed yet again, clasping his hands together, “I’m…sorry about that. That’s embarrassing”
She laughed, “Not at all. So…do you like the collection?”
Hyunjin looked around, nodding, “Oh. Of course! It’s beautiful. I love the exhibit, and I can’t believe you have some Monet up too. That must have been hard to get”
She tilt her head, an admiring smile on her face, “It certainly was. The job’s not easy, but I enjoy it a lot. We try to stick to contemporary work, switching up exhibits every month or so. You’re lucky you caught us during Monet. We’re having those shipped back to Paris soon”
Hyunjin nodded, hands slipping into his pockets, “Paris. Wow…”
“Actually I don’t have too much time, so I’m going to cut to the chase” She smiled, “The reason I asked Chan if I could meet you was…if you’d ever be interested, I wouldn’t be opposed to hosting an exhibition for your work”
His eyes widened, a surprised chuckle escaping him, “What? I’m literally just starting out. Experimenting…I don’t even have a specific art style yet or much original work…”
Karina shook her head as if all of that was an afterthought, “We already know it’ll be a hit. You’re very loved, especially in Seoul”
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why would an actual, real-life gallery ever want to exhibit his work? He barely had work to begin with! All he’d done was post a few artworks on his Instagram, and mentioned that he liked drawing in an interview, “But I’m not a professional, by any means, I just…do it because I enjoy it”
She smiled, “Precisely. It’d be nice to give new artists a voice. Sooner or later, some art gallery is going to snatch you up. I’d prefer if we were the first. There’s a lot of interest in you by the public. It’d be a loss to not display your work. If there’s anything I learnt from Kim Jieong it was—”
“Wait, you know Kim Jieong?” Hyunjin forgot his manners, interrupting her, especially in such an excitement, but he couldn’t help himself.
Karina laughed, eyes narrowing, “Are you a fan?”
“No, but my girlfr-“ Hyunjin stopped in his sentence, clearing his throat, and he could feel Chan’s gaze burn curiously into him, “Um…one of my friends is. He’s her favourite artist in the world”
“Well…I wouldn’t give him so much credit” Karina spoke, clutching the tablet tightly, “But yes, I used to intern with him earlier”
He was too straightforward, but he didn’t care, “Do you think you could help me get in touch with him? I’m sorry, I realise that’s a big favour and—”
Her expression changed, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. My relationship with Jieong…is complicated. But, if you’d really like maybe I could help you set up a meeting or something”
“Really?” His eyes lit up, and the conversation had completely sidetracked but it didn’t matter, “That would mean everything to me. Thank you”
“Of course. I can’t promise anything. This may be TMI, but he and I aren’t on the best terms. He is a wonderful artist though. I’ll give him that”
“Thank you, Karina” He smiled, genuinely. A security guard came up, tapping her on the shoulder. She nodded at him, and then looked back at Hyunjin, “I'm sorry I have to get going, there's been an incident involving a spill in the impressionist gallery …but the offer’s always up for the exhibition, by the way. Eunwoo could give you my contact details. I think you’d made a great addition to my portfolio, Hyunjin”
He smiled, but all he could focus on was that she knew Kim Jieong. Hope festered in his heart that maybe now he could finally get you the chance you deserved.
»»————-
The Hydrangeas bloomed beautifully on Hyunjin’s desk. He’d been drawing them all afternoon, and he looked forward to seeing their state change as he came home each night from work. It felt silly, but summer flowers reminded him of you. The vase needed fresh water, and he stopped sketching to go up to the kitchen and fill it up. The boys were gathered around the dining table, just about to head out to the studio, and Chan was preparing cocktails. Hyunijn switched on the water tap, absentmindedly watching the vase fill up, listening to their conversations. 
Karina still hadn’t got back to him, but he was holding onto hope. It had only been a week since their conversation after all. His days since then had been busy so he couldn't worry too much about it, occupied by schedules, he’d also managed to squeeze in time for himself now. It seemed like going back to his hometown had been genuinely helpful. It had fulfilled its purpose. He’d come back to work, feeling a new kick in energy and joie de vivre. There was hardly any sadness like before, and that's all Hyunjin could have asked for from his little vacation anyway.
Since his return, there had been some changes to the company too. He’d discovered a new library, hidden in their building, somewhere on the fourth floor, and he’d been frequenting it during his breaks. Every morning, he picked a new book to read and would fixate on it for the next week and a half. Barely any employees ever came to the library, other than HR sometimes, and it was a nice escape. He could imagine that you’d really love the library, full of nooks and crannies begging to be found and thousands of books aching to be read.
He discovered he had an affinity for poetry, and some poems never left his mind. There was one in particular by Kim Yong-Taek that occupied all the space in his head. 
눈 내리기 전에 / Before the snow falls,  한번 보고 싶습니다 / I would love to see you.
They felt real, as if they’d been written only for him, and shivers often ran up his skin as he stood reading them quietly, a deep ache in his heart at the familiarity of the words. It was crazy that something written hundreds of years ago could capture exactly what Hyunjin was feeling right now. He hoped he could make music that felt the same to others. The longing in his bones only got worse each day, and he was making a plan to fix it. Summer had been beautiful, even contending for his favourite season, but it was ending, and he would do anything to make autumn just as beautiful.
»»————-
Sleep clouded his vision, the song's melody blending with his drowsiness. It had been a week of rerecordings and they’d barely got any rest. Hyunjin tugged the headphones off, glancing at Chan through the observation window, “Was that a good take?”
Chan gave him a thumbs up through the window. His energy had been deflated too, but Hyunjin was hoping for a better response, “Are you sure? I can do another take. I think…it doesn’t sound as emotional as Jisung’s verse”
Hyunjin could only just about see Chan’s eyes, squinted over the mask he wore. The decision to cover his face was obvious; there was a little camera propped up in the studio, a way to film behind-the-scenes content for when the album finally released. Chan obviously didn’t want to be captured in this sleep-deprived state. Still, Hyunjin would have loved to see his expression, the microscopic changes in his face would tell him if he really loved the recording or not.
Chan nodded, weary eyes, “If you think you can do a better take, go for it, Hyunjin”
So he did, inhaling a breathful of air so he wouldn’t falter during his lines. He’d sounded too emotionless and mechanical and they were recording a love song. He had to pour his feelings into it, so he closed his eyes. The lyrics were embedded into his brain anyway. 
Chan began the backing track, and Hyunjin let his thoughts drift... They wandered into a familiar memory, one he usually saved for bedtime and when he was alone. His mind kept coming back to it. It was so fresh, but each day it was fading away, slipping out of his grasp and he felt the need to bottle up the memory and store it in a safe forever, where it would always be remembered. The twinkling fairy lights of the Château, the blue paint puddle on the floor, the paint you spilled on his shirt, the heated and frenzied first, second…and third kisses. The moment had been so short-lived. He had been so vulnerable that night. You’d seen him that night, truly seen him, and he still felt surprised at how much he’d divulged in you so easily. It was the realest he’d ever felt, like the rest of his life before and after was just a charade for his friends, for the cameras, for himself.
Maybe it was only with you that he was the real Hyunjin. The teasing and laughs over the chocolate strawberries and paint easels had been second nature and strangely familiar, like it wasn’t your first time doing this together, as if you had both been falling into patterns and habits of centuries ago. The most innocent actions felt crude, and cruel. Crude to kiss your cheek but not take it further. Cruel to give in to a desire he could never fulfil. Maybe every other moment in his life had been fabricated except for that night, that would explain why he was the happiest then. 
“Shit…what was that?” A voice interrupted him. Hyunjin snapped open his eyes to see Chan staring at him in disbelief. The backing track had gone onto the next verse now. He cleared his throat, “Um. Sorry I….spaced out. Let me record that again”
“Are you kidding me? That’s the best take you’ve ever given us” Chan laughed, in disbelief, stepping into the recording booth, “You sold that to me completely, Fuck. You almost made me tear up. You should do more ballads, Jinnie. That was amazing”
Hyunjin blinked at him, holding onto his headphones tightly, so unaware of himself, “I…I didn’t realise it was that good”
“Come on. Listen to it” Chan grabbed his arm, leading him out, and replaying what had just been recorded. Hyunjin almost didn’t recognise himself singing. He’d never sang like this before. Goosebumps rippled up his arms and neck, and he looked at Chan, “You’re right. That one turned out…really good”
“Damn. You can convince the audience that you’ve lived a thousand lives, been through a hundred heartbreaks. You convinced me. That was so real”
Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, and he pushed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, “It felt real to me too”
Chan wrapped up the recording, and then happily turned the company camera off, “Do you know what this means, Jinnie?”
“What?” Hyunjin asked, grateful they weren’t being recorded anymore. 
Chan stepped closer to him, a growing smile on his face, “We fucking finished this album, baby”
»»————-
Hyunjin was changing the water in the vase. He’d been desperately trying to keep the Hydrangeas alive, but that had been a failing task. So he’d found some time to buy some Cosmos, hoping he could draw them instead. It was almost autumn now, and the flower in bloom had changed, so he kept trying to adjust to it. It was harder than he thought. Chan's voice distracted him, “Are you coming to dinner with us? We’re thinking of trying that new Italian place”. Hyunjin looked up at him, “Shit. Is it okay if I bail? I was going to call Y/N later tonight. She wanted to paint together”
His eyebrows shot up, a small smile on his face, “Paint together? Is that a euphemism?”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, switching the water tap off, “No. It's obviously not”
“Wouldn’t you love if it was?” Jisung smirked at him, walking into the kitchen. It seemed like all their serious, and unserious conversations often took place in this kitchen, their one common space. Chan laughed, “So how long will your paint date last? Should we bring you any takeout pizza?”
Hyunjin shrugged, glancing at the clock, “No, that’s okay, I’m not hungry. It’ll last a few hours maybe. Next week we’re going to be so busy with the press tour, I was hoping to finish a whole painting tonight. It’s easier if I’m doing it with her. I’m just more motivated then”
“There’s a word for that, you know?” Chan leaned forward on the counter, a teasing smile on his face, “She’s your proper muse”
Hyunjin laughed, not expecting him to say that, but he had been thinking about it. After all, that’s what had made the recordings so much easier. He was singing with you in mind. He denied it, “That’s really cheesy, even for you, Chan…”
“Eh, but it’s true. You should tell her that tonight”
Hyunjin smiled, already imagining your reaction to such a thing. He wouldn’t even know how he’d bring it up. Wouldn’t it be too much? Would you be embarrassed? He could recall all the times he’d catch you off guard with his compliments back in Daejon, your expression as if he’d said the most insane thing ever when Hyunjin was just appreciating you. Fuck. He really needed to see that reaction in person again. 
Every perfect summer memory only added to the weight of his longing in fall, and he decided it was time, “I’m gonna invite her to come to Seoul”
Changbin stood across the hall, having just come out of his room to catch the last bit of conversation. His eyebrows shot up, “You are…?”
Hyunjin swallowed, catching the boys' reactions as he revealed the plan, “I just bought the train tickets for her this morning, and while she's here she can stay in an apartment I rented out for her. It’s a few blocks away from ours, so she’s close enough to me, without it being suspicious”
Jisung frowned, “But if you rented it, your name would go down in the record”
“No, I already thought of that. I asked to use my aunt’s credit card, and she’s not a Hwang, so there won’t be any trace back to me”
Jisung leaned back in his chair, “You really thought of everything, huh? No loopholes?”
“No loopholes” Hyunjin nodded, hoping they’d approve of it because something like this would put them all under scrutiny and risk, “Well, as long as she says yes”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Changbin frowned, crossing his arms, “If I was her, I’d jump at the chance”
“Yeah, I know you would. There’s an apprenticeship she wanted in the city…but she didn’t get it yet. She may not want to come here anymore…in case it reminds her of that”
“Is there any chance she can still get it?”
Hyunjin shrugged, placing his palms on the counter as he thought over it, “I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to figure it out”
Chan sighed, seeing his dilemma, “Hey, if it’s in the stars…she’ll get it. She seems talented enough from what you tell me about her”
“She’s hellbent on believing she can’t get it. I’m going to try to convince her to apply again. It’s kind of frustrating. Without connections, it’s so hard to make anything out of it. I mean, when we were at the gallery, you introduced me to Karina. It was so easy. She saw my work, and immediately agreed to a fucking exhibition. Sometimes it feels kind of unfair. What did I do to deserve that? I know there are hundreds of artists better than me who should be getting exhibitions, but…I’m getting it just because I’m famous. It feels weird and privileged”
Chan sighed, “Hyun…I know what you mean, but…it’s unfortunately how things are. And it’s not like you’re misusing this. The fact that you recognise it in the first place is sometimes all we can do”
Hyunjin let out an exhale, staring off into the distance, when his phone pinged. It was a text from you.
hey! im all set up here. ready when you are :)
Chan grinned, handing him a cocktail he’d just made, “Go on then. We’ll head to dinner and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Hyunjin smiled, rushing back to his room. In anticipation of this call, he’d already set up his work area. Ever since he’d been back, he hadn’t gotten too much time talking to you, so he would make the most of it. He set his glass down next to his MacBook, and laid out his canvas. Through the computer screen, he could see a glimpse of your room, which was messier than his. It had more personality, and it was more lived in. He realised he’d never had a chance to come to your place. He had a sudden urge to see how you set up your room and things, your little knick-knacks, the big teddy he won for you, your artwork curated over years. But from hundreds of miles of away, he could only see a little square of your life. You were biting down on a chip when he spoke, “I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan”
Your face changed, lighting up, “Yeah?” 
The connection wasn’t great, so all your responses were delayed, but Hyunjin hummed, proud, “It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”
“When can I hear it?” 
He laughed at your eagerness, “We’re still writing it”
You nodded, going back to painting. He would surprise you soon with the ticket he bought you to Seoul, but he wanted to build up to it. Perhaps he could do a grand gesture, or leave you little hints to keep you wondering. He could only imagine how happy you’d be. He could show you his favourite places in the city, introduce you to the boys and you could finally see his life, in all it’s glory. It only felt fair after you’d let him into yours so warmly. He had fit into your life in town so easily, a puzzle piece falling into place, and he hoped he could make it the same for you. Obviously, there’d be less freedom, more restrictions but at least you wouldn’t be a stranger to his lifestyle anymore. Hyunjin took a moment to sip his drink, staring at his own work. getting the courage to say it, “Can I say something cheesy?”
“Yeah?”
He leaned over the webcam, so he could be infinitesimally closer to you, cheeks reddening, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”
He watched as you sat on your knees, curious, “What do you think about?”
He flushed, regretting how this made him sound so romantic when he wasn't trying to be, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”
He saw your eyes widen, and a deep emotion overwhelmed you. He didn’t see you react more, and he wondered what this meant to you, what he meant to you right now, even so far away. You didn't say anything back. You must be holding it all in, just like him. Maybe you didn’t know how to put your thoughts into words. He couldn't blame you. Even after reading all the poems in the world, Hyunjin didn’t have the words either. Not enough anyway.
»»————-
It was supposed to be an informal gathering to celebrate the album, but it felt more like a full-fledged party. Their manager’s apartment had been completely transformed, no empty floor space as everybody from the company had gathered around for a hurrah. Hyunjin had a few drinks in his system already, enough to get him really going. He stood away from the crowd, tucked into a corner, phone pulled out, typing in a ridiculously cheesy message to you. The party was great, and he was so happy to have finished the album. All that was missing was you. The text started sounding far too cheesy, inspired by the love rot that the poetry books had filled in his brain, and slowly, it became more and more unhinged. The wine Chan brought must have got to his head, but he couldn't stop, all of his thoughts pouring out in a mixture of sentences that didn't really make any sense.
I want you here with me at this party. Fuck, it’s so dull without you. If you were here, we could just sneak off and…I would kiss you. Positively. My manager is here, the scary one, but he doesn’t have to know. Earlier, I was reading a book and there was an English word in it that reminded me of you. Saudade. I looked it up because I was so curious and it said it’s a state of melancholy for a beloved someone or something. I think that explains this ridiculous feeling I have when I think of you. I have it even when I’m not thinking of you. Like last week, when we were recording this one song. It’s like you’re here with me in everything. I guess what I’m saying is, I just want to kiss you really really badly and fuck I’m really drunk so I’m sorry for how this may sound but I just really need to feel you—
The phone was snatched from his hands, Changbin squinting to read the message, “Who are you texting in the middle of our party?”
Hyunjin flushed red. He was really drunk but he still noticed their manager to the side, and hushed, “Keep your voice down, Binnie”
He looked up, eyes wide, “Is this your idea of a sext?”
“What? no— it’s not a sext. I’m not sexting, what the hell”
“You’re like…weirdly poetic when you’re drunk”
Hyunjin closed his eyes, “Just…give me that”
He deleted the message. 
It was a bad idea to be sending you drunk messages anyway. He should just call you instead. Yeah. That sounded like a smarter, much better idea. Before he could dial your number, Changbin pulled him to the living room, and Hyunjin let himself be tugged along. Jisung was standing shirtless there, liquid smeared down his chest and abs. He was laughing, hair all messed up, clearly very tipsy, “Come on! Who’s next?”
Hyunjin did not intend to be a part of whatever this was, but Changbin pushed him ahead, “He’s up” But they were surrounded by company employees. Even the girl from the art gallery, Karina, was here and he flushed from the embarrassment. “I don’t even know what we’re doing” Hyunjin chuckled nervously, as Changbin hoisted him up over the table, handing him a quick shot to get the nerves out. Hyunjin downed it in a single sip, the liquid burning his throat. The state of his sobriety stopped him from protesting too much, until Jisung explained, “Body shots, of course. Pick your contender, Jinnie”
Hyunjin’s eyes widened, looking around the bunch of people, none of whom he felt comfortable touching him, but he saw a few of the women shy away, “I…I don’t know”
“I’ll do it” Chan laughed, stepping ahead from the crowd, “If that’s okay with you”
Jisung certainly seemed to have enjoyed it, and he wanted to give it a shot. He could be chill with this, but he would definitely blame the alcohol in him for how easily he went down on the table, and how easily he let Chan unbutton his black shirt. The overhead lights were too bright and Hyunjin closed his eyes, and his head was spinning. The music was pounding in his ears, the marble countertop cold to his back.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this” He laughed to himself, swept up in the environment as Changbin dripped tequila over his stomach. The chill liquid tickled him and he immediately squirmed, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt embarrassed for his reaction. Clearly, he was a novice to this party celebration, but he was also enjoying the attention.
“You ready, Jinnie?” Chan asked, looking up at him with a comforting smile. Chan was definitely drunk too in order to pull a stunt like this in front of the employees. They were absolutely loving it though and he could hear them all cheer them on. They never got to see the members in a more unprofessional environment than this one, and Hyunjin hoped none of them changed their opinion of him after this. He gave a quick thumbs up, facing the ceiling as he felt Chan’s mouth near his stomach. He sucked in a breath in anticipation, cheeks flushing from all this attention. He was used to people’s eyes on him, but this was so different and intimate. Somehow, his self-conscious part disappeared just as Chan licked a stripe of tequila up Hyunjin’s torso. He squirmed, a giggle escaping at the ticklish feeling, and Chan held him down, hand on his thigh, laughing, “Stop moving! You’ll get it on the table!”
Hyunjin stilled with the threat of ruining their manager’s table, eyes still closed as Chan finished licking the rest up until his chest, and his stomach was in knots. He couldn’t help but imagine this situation differently. Would you have partaken in this with him? How would that have looked like? If it was you doing this to him, instead of Chan? The little party activity would definitely have turned into something else by the end of it…and he knows he definitely would not be able to resist, not when your tongue was on his stomach and you were so close to him. The image sent a rush of blood through his body, thoughts that he should definitely not be indulging in when his best friend was doing body shots off him, and Hyunjin immediately sat up, bumping his head right into Chan’s. “Ouch!” Chan exclaimed, clutching his forehead, “Careful, Jin!”
“Um, sorry” He swallowed, jumping off the counter, embarrassment lingering from how he'd stupidly turned himself on in front of everyone he knew, “I felt sick”
“No worries” Chan laughed, oblivious to his friend's thoughts, patting his shoulder as everybody around them continued cheering them on, “You did good”
Hyunjin walked away, feeling sticky now, and he tried to wipe off the remaining with a kitchen towel. If it was you, he would have let you go all the way, until every stripe of tequila was gone from his body. And then some more.
He buttoned his shirt up again, hands shaking from the buzz, blood rushing to the parts that needed his attention. He needed to hear your voice. You didn’t even know he was at this party. It was so inconvenient to be so far away, trying to convey all that he felt through a mere text or phone call. He stood to the side, shaky fingers pulling up your contact until he heard your voice on the other end. “Guess what?” Hyunjin grinned.
“What?” Your voice was soft on the other end, so calm, grounding him in his drunkenness. A stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of his party and he could think straight again. Hyunjin smiled, “We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready. We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”
He felt excited to hear your reaction. He was grinning ear to ear, as you congratulated him. He’d heard that today many times, but hearing it from you was incomparable. You were proud of him. He giggled, stumbling out of the hallway, blood rushing to his head, “Jisung made me drink…far too much. I liked the wine, though; Chan found it in this cool store, but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of —” 
“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him.
Hyunjin nodded, walking around, trying to avoid anybody being able to pick up on his conversation. So many people were in this tiny apartment, and he wished he had more peace and quiet to talk to you. “It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”
“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke.
“Sorry” He apologised, walking off towards the balcony, “Can you hear me now?”
“Yeah, I can”
“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He mumbled, voice dropping, and the rest of this party was fading from his vision, tunnel vision to you and your voice on the other end, “Why aren’t you here?”
Hyunjin thinks the only way he can stop missing you is if you start visiting him in your dreams. He wonders what sorcery he needs to do for that to happen. Could he visit you in your dreams? So you never grow apart, and find each other every single night. “I miss you too….but you should get back to the party—”
Hyunjin failed to notice Changbin creeping up on him, taking the phone away, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?”
“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin sighed, all his poetic declarations disappearing into the void. At this point, he thinks he needs to maintain another diary just to write all the things he wishes to say to you but never does.
“Hey!” Changbin was talking to you, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”
“Stop!” Hyunjin exclaimed, realising their managers stood nearby and the commotion had caught their ears, “Don’t announce it to the entire party.” Changbin laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”
“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin tried to grab it.
“Let me finish!” Changbin laughed. Hyunjin’s head began to ache when he saw Jisung approach their chaos, “Fuck. Is that her?”
“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” He sounded like a broken record, like all his primary functions had ceased and wouldn’t function until he heard your voice again. “Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?” Jisung asked, loudly. It was loud enough that their managers heard it, ears perking up and glancing at Hyunjin. One of their managers, Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. This was the first he’d heard of this, and goosebumps rippled up Hyunjin’s neck at what this could mean.
His voice dropped, stepping back towards his meddling friends, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”
“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted, oblivious to his surroundings. Hyunjin yanked the phone back, and he was pissed, but he wouldn’t blame them. They were only messing about. He let out a breath, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”
Your voice sounded far away, resigned, “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You should enjoy the party, Hyun” Panic built up in his throat at the thought of you leaving, “No, no, I called you because I missed you”
“I can’t really even hear you,” You said, crushing his heart and soul to irreparable pieces. Maybe he was being dramatic, but perhaps he needed you to breathe, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”
Hyunjin was ready to protest, bear his heart out to keep you a little while longer. What was the point of celebrating his success if he couldn't share it with you right now? Isn't that why he'd pushed himself so hard this time? So he could impress you with all the songs he'd written with only you in mind. He’d leave the party if he had to, just so you wouldn’t go. Before he could declare his insanity of wanting to talk to you, Eunwoo stepped closer to him. His eyes were narrowed, a tell-tale sign, disapproving head tilt. Hyunjin had lost the opportunity, and he said, “All right. I’ll call you later”
With no qualms about destroying the party's vibe, Eunwoo asked curiously, “Who are you talking to?”
“Nobody” Hyunjin panicked, hanging up. He shoved the phone into his pocket, and it burned into him. Eunwoo sighed, “I heard Jisung mention a girlfriend. Is there something you want to share?”
He shook his head, unease settling into him or maybe he was just about to throw the fuck up, “Can we…not talk about this right now? I mean, we’re at a party”
Eunwoo stared at him, as if dissecting all of Hyunjin's deepest, darkest secrets, gaze burning through him. Then he nodded with a smile, “Of course, Hyunjin. You should celebrate”
Hyunjin’s nerves calmed down and he began walking away. Maybe now he could return to enjoying the rest of the night.  But of course, Eunwoo stopped him, hand over his shoulder “We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning though. I want to see you seven AM, in my office”
Hyunjin suppressed a groan, bile rising up his throat at what this could possibly mean, “Oh. Okay”
Eunwoo patted his shoulder, before walking back to the party, “Don’t be late, Hwang”
»»————-
He definitely didn’t feel human stepping into the office, a mere three hours later. He hadn’t got any sleep. He had just enough time to head home, shower, and wipe the remnants of tequila off his stomach before heading here. The body shots didn’t sound like a great idea now. His shirt was sticky and ruined. His head hurt, and he was surprised that Eunwoo wasn’t hungover. He’d probably gouged on hangover soup last night, and he sat in a crisp suit-and-tie across the table. He looked up at him, cheery smile, “Morning, Hwang”
Hyunjin sat in the uncomfortable office chair, squinting against the lights that hurt his sensitive eyes, “Good morning…”
“Did you have a good time at the party last night?”
Hyunjin nodded, putting on a smile, “Yes. It was nice”
Eunwoo was their nicest manager, he’s the only reason Hyunjin had been able to go back home and he certainly liked him the most. He was miles better than Kim Soohyun, the guy who basically decided Hyunjin’s life. But now…it seemed like Eunwoo had been sent by his higher-ups to sweet-talk Hyunjin, “You certainly seemed to enjoy it, but sadly, I didn’t see too much of you. We would have liked to get a drink with you”
“Ah, I was with the boys most of the night” He answered. Could this meeting not have been an email? His head was pounding and he couldn’t focus on anything.
Eunwoo tilt his head, picking up on his irritation, “Say it. Whatever’s on your mind”
“No disrespect. I…just don’t understand why we need to talk about this right now”
“Why? Because it’s a Sunday and most people don’t have to go to work today, or because you drank too much last night?” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. There was a stress ball in his hands and Eunwoo kept tossing it back and forth. 
Hyunjin bit his lip, “No, I’m fine. I’m just a bit tired”
“Because it may be a day off for everyone in the country, but not for you. I’m sure you’re aware of that. After all, superstars don’t get to where they are by slacking off”
Hyunjin frowned, “I understand. Is there a specific reason you wanted to see me today?”
Eunwoo put down the stress ball in his hands, expression suddenly turning serious, “Look, kid. If I could turn a blind eye to this, I would. Trust me. I hate doing this as much as you hate hearing it, but Kim Soohyun was at the party too. He overheard things. I’m accountable to him, and you’re accountable to me”
Hyunjin sank into his seat, “So…am I in trouble or something?”
Eunwoo clasped his hands, “Depends…did you do something to get you into trouble?”
“No, I didn’t, Eunwoo”
He leaned forward on the desk, hands folded under his chin, “There was quite a lot of talk about a girlfriend last night. You never mentioned that to me”
Hyunjin let out a sigh, “There’s no girlfriend. The boys were dicking around”
Eunwoo gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Then, who were you talking to? On the phone when I saw you? Surely your parents wouldn't be awake that late”
“Just…a friend from back home. They’re not important”
“Look, Hyunjin. I hate to pry. Your personal life is entirely yours but not when it concerns your image or the company, or god forbid, the media. If you are dating somebody, you have to let me know so I can be prepared for when it eventually gets out to the media”
Hyunjin’s head began to hurt exponentially more and maybe he should never have called you last night, “I’m not dating anybody, Eunwoo”
Eunwoo nodded. Clearly, he didn’t believe him. He’d known and managed Hyunjin for years. He'd known him since he was fifteen. He could see right through him and wished he was a better liar. “You’re gonna have to give me more than that”
Hyunjin sighed, sitting up straighter as if that could convince him better, “She’s just an old friend, from back home”
Eunwoo raised an eyebrow, and then leaned back in his chair, “Okay, I’ll believe you. I hope you’ve already passed along the contract to her”
He frowned, “What, the NDA? I’m not dating her, why does she have to sign it?”
“Well yes, you’re not, but clearly you and her are close if you’re drunk calling her from a work party. She could have the wrong idea, if she goes around telling people a different story…that’ll be a problem”
“She is not going to tell anyone”
“You don’t know what girls can be capable of to get fame. An argument with you, if someone bribes her, if she sees any opportunity, she could go to the media—”
“Y/N is not like that” Hyunjin interrupted, a surge of bitterness ripping through at the assumptions.
Eunwoo’s eyebrows shot up, “Y/N…that’s her name”
He wished he could take back that information. It was too late. He released a breath, “Look, you’re not making her sign any contracts. We’re not romantically involved. There are no legal obligations. Am I not even allowed to have fucking friends anymore?”
Eunwoo closed his eyes, “Don’t get angry on me, Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. This is how it’s been for years. The rules won’t change for you. It’s going to be difficult to manage these rumors after you already took half a year off to yourself and with Jisung’s trial and Chan and Kairi’s…whatever the hell they’re doing. You say you’re not dating this girl, I’m going to trust you on that. But if at any point that changes or the girl goes to the news, the company will have to step in. For example, she talks to somebody about her…special friendship with you. Kim Soohyun won’t think twice before suing her for defamation”
Hyunjin saw red, and he clenched his fists as to not react. Defamation? “I get it, Eunwoo”
He nodded, putting a document on the table and sliding it to him, “If anything changes, you have to let me know. I have to be ready to release a statement”
“What, a statement…for what?” Hyunjin stared at the files. An NDA and a press release statement. This was absolutely insane. Nothing had even happened, and they were preparing for the worst case scenario. No, they were waiting for it. 
“You’ve been in this industry long enough, Hwang. We must inform the public and fanbase…if you’re in a relationship. If we keep it to ourselves and it gets out anyway, the backlash would be immense. Now, don’t worry. We can always try to keep her identity secret if you’re worried about her safety and with threats and everything, but—”
Hyunjin stood up in panic, blood rushing to his head, “That’s not happening. There’s not gonna be any threats to her…or announcements”
Eunwoo looked up at him, blinking blankly, “Okay… I appreciate the sentiment but that’s not entirely in your hands. The press tour starts today. All eyes are going to be on the four of you. The whole damn country is talking about you, Hyunjin. We can’t afford a scandal. Kim Soohyun has me in a tight grip. I have faith in you that nothing happens to throw that off”
He swallowed, nails digging into his palm from his emotions, “Yeah. It won’t”
Clearly, his plans of bringing you to the city to visit him were down the fucking drain. He’d be lucky if he could even get a phone call with you anymore. 
“Also if you’re using the company phone to stay in contact with her, I suggest you change that. It shouldn’t be traced back to us”
Hyunjin nodded, and he wasn’t even dating you but the worst was already happening. This was what he’d feared the whole time. There was no point. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he asked, “Is that going to be all?”
Eunwoo nodded, “You should take these documents with you, just in case. HR were happy to print them out for me this morning. They also told me you’ve been hanging out in the romance section a lot in the company library”
So he had absolutely no privacy anymore either. Hyunjin snatched the folder, carelessly holding the files in his hand, with no intention of ever using them. He wouldn’t let the press statement or NDA document anywhere near you. In fact, they’d be tossed in the trash as soon as he was home. He headed for the door and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He needed to decompress. He couldn’t show up to practice this pissed and this wound up. He’d explode, and the boys didn’t deserve that. 
Eunwoo’s voice stopped him, “Oh, and congratulations, Hyunjin”
Hyunjin turned around, gripping the doorknob in blind fury. It felt like a taunt, a joke. There was nothing to congratulate him for. He couldn’t even keep his friends close without it exploding into a big deal. What did he even have to be grateful for? He looked right at Eunwoo, and his lack of sleep made him more irritable, “For…what?”
Eunwoo smiled warmly, his entire demeanour changing, “The album pre-sales are the biggest we’ve ever seen. You’re a global superstar now. You should feel very, very lucky, kid"
»»————-
“Can you stand still for me, please?” The assistant responsible for touching up Hyunjin’s face asked. He nodded, letting her put rosy tint on his cheeks, blending it with the contour. He’d been here for what easily felt like hours, and through the mirror he could see that Changbin was just about done with his makeup. 
The week leading up to the release was always the hardest. Somebody tugged at his hair and he resisted the urge to grimace. They didn’t deserve his terrible mood; they were only doing their job. The hairstylist apologised, noticing Hyunjin’s sour expression, “Sorry. Eunwoo said we need to get started on your hair right now; the other boys are already ready.” Hyunjin nodded, letting himself be manhandled by three different women as they struggled to put his hair into braids, “Have you been using the product we gave you?”
“Hmm?”
“Your hair’s thinning out, especially the bleached roots” The lady mumbled, disappointed.
“Yeah, I have” Truthfully he’d forgotten, a grave mistake for someone in his industry, but he’d been too caught up in everything else. His stomach rumbled and he hadn’t had time to grab breakfast this morning, so he looked around until he spotted one of their assistants, “Rowoon, could you please get me some honey butter chips—”
“Stay still, please” The makeup assistant repeated. Hyunjin straightened up, speaking through his teeth, “…or ramyeon?”
Rowoon looked at him through the mirror, eyebrows shooting up, “Um. Are you sure? You have a pre-recording tomorrow”
“I…haven’t eaten since last night” Hyunjin replied.
“Last time you ate it…your face got pretty swollen, and you were pretty beat up about not looking great in the music show” Rowoon said, grimly smiling.
Hyunjin nodded, gut hurting at that memory of his swollen face, “Right. Never mind. Forget it. Thank you”
“How long are we filming for today?” Jisung asked, adjusting his headset in the back. Rowoon looked between them, “Well, you guys are booked until 4 PM”
Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at his phone. 6:43 am. Fuck.
Changbin walked by, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder, slipping toffees into his palm, “That’ll fill you up before the interviews”. The candy looked less than appetising, but it was his only option, and he reached to eat some, just as the lady stopped him to apply lip tint to his mouth. Today was going to be a long fucking day.
They were almost done with his hair, braiding it at the top of his head, secured with glitter barrettes. It was an elaborate hairstyle, and he feared he’d ruin it if he moved. It was like walking on eggshells, like his slightest touch would crumble things. Well, everything already seemed to be crumbling. Hyunjin hadn’t been in the best of moods since his talk with Eunwoo, and the possibilities of how everything could go wrong loomed over him. The worst he’d feared for was already happening, things set in motion and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it from worsening. The company knew your name. They knew of your existence. They’d already restricted him. There’s no way in hell Hyunjin would be able to bring you to Seoul, much less meet you in this city without a hundred documents or cameras being thrown at you. Slowly, all his happiness that had been built up carefully and precisely, was turning into bitterness.
“Have you seen Chan?” Rowoon asked, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Hyunjin shook his head. He’d been sitting on this chair for forty five minutes straight. How the hell would he know where Chan was? The hunger and frustration was getting to him, and he shook his head, calming himself down.
“May I go now?” He looked up at the hair assistant.
She nodded, “Just no quick movements. The hairspray is still settling in”
Now that he could properly look at himself, it looked good. Having longer hair always set him at the mercy of experimentation for new styles, and often crazy accessories. He smiled at them, pushing the chair back to stand, “Of course. Thank you so much for your hard work. It’s beautiful”
In other circumstances, he’d snap a picture and send you, but…he’d been on eggshells with you too. Inadvertently, the conversation with Eunwoo had created distance. Hyunjin hated that because none of this was your fault. You shouldn’t be subject to this silence from him, but he was constantly looking over his shoulder, paranoid that he’d be caught and it was getting tiring. His carelessness at the party had led to this. He wanted to fully blame himself for not having any self-control when he drunk called you. Yet, a part of him knew that even without the doomed phone call, somehow everybody would have found out anyway. It was only a matter of time. Things never stayed stable for too long in his life.
He walked into the hallway, hoping to find an empty room. There were usually a few reserved for stage props. He could have a few moments to himself, just to talk to you. That could calm him down, and he could apologise for his distance. He didn’t know how he’d begin to explain what was happening to you. To anybody else, it’d seem like he was pushing you away and he hoped you understood that it was never his intention.
A door was ajar, sliver of light leaking out into the hallway. He stopped in his tracks, familiar voices inside. He didn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they were so loud, “What do you want me to say? I’m doing absolutely everything I can! Jisung’s trial is already—”
“Don’t bring Jisung into this…” Kairi’s exasperated voice interrupted, “What’s going on with him is different. You always do this, Chris! Why are you making this your problem?”
“I’m sorry? They’re my bandmates. They’re my friends. Of course I’m going to take their burden!”
“Jisung is an adult, he’s perfectly capable of—“
“I made a promise to all of them, Kairi. I’m not jumping ship when they need me the most” Chan sounded so frustrated.
She groaned, “I’m not asking you to jump ship. But Chris you haven’t slept in three fucking days! You’re…barely eating. This is not living”
Hyunjin didn’t know that, and his blood ran cold at the information as Chan replied, “This isn’t your problem Kairi. It’s…my problem to deal with. I have to make sacrifices—”
“I had to quit my job because of you, Chris!” She trailed off, Hyunjin’s eyes widened, and he flinched at the aggressive tone. He wasn’t new to their arguments, especially over the last month, but none were like this. This felt like the culmination of something that had been building for months, even years. Kairi was always so sweet, and her volume returned to normal, “I mean…I had to quit because of us. I made sacrifices too. So yes, it is my problem”
Chan’s voice dropped, “Well, I don’t want you to make sacrifices for me”
“That’s what people do when they love each other. I’m sorry but that’s just a reality you’re going to have to accept Chris”
“Do we…have to talk about this now? The interviews start soon, and I can’t focus on them—” 
“I’m so worried about you, Channie. I don’t know how you’re going to make it through the morning”
Chan groaned, “I don’t know either, but I have to do it for the boys. I can’t…let them down”
Hyunjin’s chest ached now, a different kind of pain settling in. Why were they all making sacrifices for each other? They were only in their twenties, pushing for their dreams; this instability shouldn’t be normal.
Kairi sighed, “See, that’s exactly the problem. Why do you always take the blame for everything? Even when Hyunjin was gone, you made it your mission to do damage control for him. Not everything has to be your burden”
At the mention of his name, he really should walk away and learn to mind his own business, but he couldn’t help but overhear, feet rooted to the floor as Chan’s voice softened with a new desperation and frustration, “They mean everything to me. You know that”
“They do to me too, Chris. I know this is a horrible time”
“Hyunjin?” He heard Jisung’s voice call for him in the hallway. He needed to head back. An entire press and interview team was waiting for them, only a few rooms over and if he listened any further, he’d be in no state of mind to answer questions. But of course as he stepped away, he picked up on the last bit of conversation, “Did you know HR gave Hyunjin the papers?” Chan laughed bitterly, “They’re already prepared for the worst”
Kairi sighed, and he could hear her footsteps as she moved closer to Chan. Only dread filled his stomach as he heard the next sentence out of her mouth, “That’s their job. You have to not make it your problem this time, Chan, I’m…so worried about your health. And that’s Hyunjin’s responsibility. He knew what he was getting into when he started seeing her. It was bound to happen. It always does.”
Hyunjin didn’t stick around to hear Chan’s response.
He had heard enough.
»»————-
“Hyun, can I come see you?”
The question was expected, but Hyunjin was shocked when you said it anyway. He froze, choking at his words. A few days ago, he would have been overjoyed at this. After all, he’d already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements for you to come see him, but…things had changed. It was too risky. He didn’t have the heart to tell you about his conversation with Eunwoo. What was the point after all? Hyunjin let out an awkward fucking chuckle, “W-what?”
“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help.” Your voice was far away, drenched in longing.
It wasn’t out of nowhere, it was only what Hyunjin had been planning since forever. But nothing went to his fucking plans, “I…I’m not sure, Y/N”
Your voice deflated, disappointed, “Yeah?”
His heart broke, but it had become increasingly clear that it would be the dumbest idea ever to have you come visit. If anybody saw them…if anything got out…he wasn’t prepared to deal with that, “Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…”
“Yeah. I understand” Of course you understood, no matter how shitty Hyunjin kept behaving. For once, he wished you’d actually yell at him.
“I’m sorry” He swallowed, and he could feel the life being sucked out of him.
Your response was sweet as usual, “It’s okay. It’s bad timing”
“It’s bad timing” He repeated, and Hyunjin suddenly had a horrible feeling that maybe this was the last straw. Things had slipped out of his control. Soon, eventually, you would too.
»»————-
The seasons were changing, but flowers bloomed all year long in Seoul, and so Hyunjin had prepared early. He’d bought the Camellia seeds so he could grow winter flowers on his own, and see their life unfold before his eyes. Even if everything else seemed to be falling apart, at least he could try to be consistent and paint his feelings away. The yellow falling leaves and orange tree cover taken over the city inspired his many paintings. Usually, you’d send him pictures of every little detail from back home, especially of changing landscapes and beautiful natural sights of town, but you hadn't shared anything the past week. He wondered what autumn would look like in Daejon. Now that his conversations with you were thinning out, he had an irrational fear that he’d never find out. 
“Everything okay?”
“Sorry?” Hyunjin snapped out of it, and Changbin looked at him, concerned. “You’re in your head again. Is something bothering you?”
Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “No, I’m good”
Changbin clearly wasn’t convinced, because his expression softened, and he reached a hand out, “Hey, why don’t you go wait in the car? I’ll bring the Americano out to you”
But he was so past being taken care of or worried about. So Hyunjin shook his head. The idea of waiting in the car sounded absolutely horrible right now. He needed fresh air, and he was perfectly capable of getting his own cup of coffee.
“No, I got this. Why don’t you let me get this for us?” Hyunjin asked, pushing his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. It was getting colder by the day, and even in this temperature-controlled cafe, he was cold to the bone. Changbin grinned, shooting him a cheesy wink, “Well, I’ll never say no to being treated by you”
A smile tugged at Hyunjin’s lips. Changbin could find the brevity in each situation. Hyunjin walked up to the cashier, placing an order for their usual. “Could I have two coffees, black, please?” He asked. The cashier, a girl probably in her 20s, smiled wide at Hyunjin, “Is that all?”
He glanced at the pastry counter, and everything looked so appetising. Yet he was on a diet and couldn’t afford to do this. Everybody would be so disappointed in him, “No, that’s all”
“Sorry, but do…I know you?” She asked, punching in his order. Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he thought he’d concealed his identity enough with the hat, but clearly the rest of his expensive outfit was a dead give-away that was he was some big shot. They had another schedule after this, so they were dressed up and he was draped head-to-toe in luxury items, “Um. I just have one of those faces, I guess”
The girl didn’t look convinced, “Right…I’ll have your coffee out in a few minutes”
He stepped aside, joining his friend to the side. Changbin had a huge grin on his face still and Hyunjin was thankful to have his positivity surround him, “That chick was totally flirting with you”
“What?” Hyunjin shook his head, pushing the receipt in his coat pocket, “She barely said two words. You think everyone’s flirting with me”
“Well, why are her and all her friends giggling and looking at you?” Changbin rolled his eyes. Hyunijn looked back, and sure enough, the cashier and her coworkers were looking at him. Maybe they shouldn’t have come in here today. It was too close to the comeback. He shook that thought from his head. He was desperate for coffee.
“Excuse me, sir? Your coffee is ready” The girl said, and Hyunjin stepped back up. She was smiling, flushing red under her uniform cap, and as she handed them the cups he noticed a piece of paper stuck to it. Changbin glanced at it, eyes widening as they stepped away, “Is that her number?”
“I don’t know” Hyunjin mumbled, unfurling the paper. This definitely was the most romantic way he’d been asked out. It was her Instagram handle, and a note was stuck to it, Hope you liked the coffee, handsome. Maybe we could get a stronger drink later tonight? 
“Wow” Hyunjin’s brows shot up, and he pushed the note into his pocket too. It’d be thrown away later, “That’s…certainly a bold move”
“Please tell me you’re going on that date”
Hyunjin shook his head, amused at how light-hearted dates and budding love could be for Changbin, “I…have plans”
“What plans? You’re a recluse”
“I was going to talk to Y/N tonight—” He trailed off, eyes landing on someone familiar in the crowd. Hyunjin’s breath hitched.
It was a while since he’d seen her. Years, at this point.
She was sat at a far table, laughing over a cup of coffee and croissants. She seemed better than she had in years. Happier than she’d ever been around Hyunjin. Right now, she was glowing. The cause of her happiness seemed to be a boy sitting across her. A guy dressed in flannel and suit pants, chunky glasses on his face. Hyunjin couldn’t look away as the boy leaned forward, kissing her cheek quickly. She smiled, and then the cashier called out, “Coffee for Yujin”
She kissed the boy before standing up. She walked towards them, and Hyunjin was still standing stupidly at the counter. She noticed him, eyes widening, coming to a stop. Almost instantly, the life drained from her face. 
A stark difference from a moment ago, when she was so happy. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do; he raised a hand; a small, non-threatening wave. Things between them had ended in peace, after all. Yujin’s face traversed many expressions before she settled on a calm look, “Hyunjin. Wow…hi. This…is such a surprise. Hello…Changbin”
Hyunjin nodded, hoping this interaction wasn’t being watched, “It’s…been a while, Yujin”
She was still beautiful, smiling to diffuse the tension, “I didn’t expect to see you around here”
Hyunjin nodded, hands squeezing his coffee cup, “Yeah. I…don’t come here too often”
She nodded, familiarity returning to her gaze, “Ah. Too easy to get recognised?”
Hyunjin nodded along, even though that wasn’t the reason. He hated how his life seemed to revolve around his fame, and not his choices, like maybe he didn’t come here because he just liked another coffee shop more. Changbin took over, noticing the awkward shift in Hyunjin, “Um, so how have you been, Yujin? You look good!”
She smiled at him, “I’m great. I’m actually doing really well… I, uh, moved out of the city, closer to the outskirts”
“Really?” Hyunjin asked. He wondered why she would make such a decision. She’d trained with him for years, until she’d suddenly dropped out of the idol industry, but back when Hyunjin knew her and dated her, they had the same ambitions. The same thirst to be recognized, to be respected, and known for their talent. That’s why they had got along so well.
“Hmm, the city got too much for me sometimes. Anyway after I met Haru, it just seemed like the right choice to make”
“Haru. Is that…your boyfriend?” Hyunjin asked, noticing the boy back at the table. 
“Well…” She giggled, lifting her hand up to show them the glittering, gorgeous ring, “Fiancé, actually”
Changbin’s eyes widened, “You’re engaged?”
She nodded, a dimple in her cheek, “Haru asked me a few months ago”
Hyunjin forced himself to smile, but there was a deep pit in his stomach, recalling the conversations they used to have back in their days as trainees. They were never that serious to talk about weddings, or marriage. They both knew it was only an attraction between them and would stay that way, but he remembered a specific conversation where Yujin had said that the only disadvantage of becoming famous was the love life they’d be giving up. He was happy for her now. She hadn’t had to give it up after all, “Congratulations, Yujin. That’s…really good”
“Never too early to settle down, am I right?” She laughed, “What about you, Jinnie? How have you been?”
“I’m…good too. So…what are you doing these days?” He redirected the conversation back, curiosity brimming at him. What did someone do once they’d left the idol life? They were free to do absolutely anything, the choices were limitless. He’d never known a life without rules. He’d been training since he was fourteen, after all. She shrugged, “I’m doing a bit of everything. I volunteered at an organisation for a while, I tested my hand at photography, modelling even, but then I realised I really don’t want to be around cameras of any kind” She laughed, “I teach now, though”
“That sounds really nice, Yujin. I’m glad you get to do something you love”
“Well, you too! You’re absolutely thriving, Hyunjin. I see you every day with all your brand deals and advertisements. Does it ever get tiring being pretty all the time?”
Hyunjin smiled, “It’s…part of my job”
“Well, you deserve it. I remember how focused you used to be. You were my motivation, you know? It should have been obvious that life wasn’t for me. I hated everything. My favourite part of the academy used to be seeing you” At those words, the boy, Haru joined her, slipping an arm around her waist, “Everything all right, baby?”
She glanced at him, “Shit, I totally forgot to get the coffee. Just ran into some old friends”
Haru laughed, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it for us, babe.” He kissed her again, with no hesitance of being seen by so many people, and went to pick up the drinks. Changbin conversed with Haru, as Yujin asked Hyunjin, “I read that you went on a break for a couple of months. That must have been…wow, relieving?”
He swallowed, “Yeah, it was really good, but…I’m back to work now”
“That must’ve been nice. I don’t know how you do it, Hyunnie. I remember when we training together, you wouldn’t leave the practice room for days. Still the same?”
Hyunjin nodded. Yujin had changed so much from when he’d last met her. Had he changed at all?
Haru smiled at him, “Thank you for taking good care of her then. She tells me about those days a lot. It must have been thrilling to keep it a secret from everyone”
Hyunjin shook his head, smiling politely at him, “It was terrifying actually” 
They laughed. Haru pulled Yujin into his side again as she said, “Well…this was unexpected, but if your schedule permits, you and the boys are always welcome to the engagement party. It’s the end of December”
Changbin sighed dramatically, “Unfortunately, we’re working the whole month”. Yujin frowned, “That’s terrible….I would suggest catching up after that but…me and Haru are going to be gone for three months”
“Oh, where are you going?” Changbin asked.
“Backpacking through Europe” She responded chirpily, “Haru’s really into art and sculptures, so we have this silly idea to visit every museum in Paris”
“That sounds really good” Hyunjin smiled, but he was drowning so deep in his thoughts he could barely focus. What a nice life. It was strange, the last time he saw her, she was in the same boat as him. Training to be an idol, like him. But their paths had diverged, and envy settled in him. He was so lucky to have his life, but he wished he could just take off like that too on vacation, no questions asked. Changbin’s phone buzzed and he apologised, ”Um sorry to stop this, but we gotta go. Eunwoo’s calling us back in to work”
Hyunjin nodded, “Oh, of course. It was great to meet you Yujin, and you too, Haru. Congratulations again, on the engagement. I hope you have a good time in Europe. I’m really happy for you”
Suddenly the expensive bracelets he was wearing felt like shackles around Hyunjin’s wrists. 
»»————-
A fire burned within him, a quiet inferno consuming his peace. He couldn’t stop thinking about Yujin and what her life was like now. She’d rebuilt it to something so special. She would never have that peace of life if she’d stayed in her company or with Hyunjin. He sat at the company table, signing albums, and it was a monotonous task so his thoughts kept drifting. 
“Jinnie. Your phone” Jisung mumbled, poking him with a pen. Hyunjin lift his head to see it buzzing across the table. You were calling. He took a breath, walking out to talk to you. You were the only thing that could make this horrible fucking day better. He hoped you weren’t still upset at him rejecting your offer to come to the city. Hopefully, you’d understand. Everything was too treacherous. Hyunjin…was too treacherous for you right now. Still, he listened to you about your day, and how you’d apparently made up with Yongbok. He smiled, lowering his voice as employees passed him in the corridor, “What did you guys do?”
As you told him everything he wished he was doing with you instead, Hyunjin faded into thought again until you said, “Um…and something else happened. When we were talking, Yongbok said something…He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”
He wished he was more surprised.
A cynical stupid part of him was happy at this. So Yongbok finally told you. Bitterness settled into his veins, scorching him from the inside out, and Hyunjin found himself thinking that maybe with Yongbok, you could finally have the life he couldn’t give you.
When he got home that night, he realised the hydrangeas in his room had withered away completely.
»»————-
He woke to fresh flowers on his desk. Baby blue, lilac, pink and white. All shapes and colors. The scent is what woke him up. It starkly contrasted to the dying hydrangeas that he still hadn’t thrown away. He’d been meaning to draw them in that state. A cruel render of their destruction. 
The comeback was in a few days. Their album would finally be out to the public. There was so much to do today, and he lay in bed just a little longer to enjoy the temporary peace. A press conference was underway soon, and he would have to put on his best self. It was going to be live-streamed and there were no doubts that he’d be asked about the hiatus. He worried if the music would be well received, if it would surpass everyone’s expectations. Hyunjin finally crawled out of bed and read the little notes attached to the bouquets. Congratulations on your 4th successful studio album. Never forget how lucky and blessed you are~!
He walked into his kitchen, sweatpants hanging low, sleep clouding him, to see even more flowers on the island. “Who sent these?” He asked, rubbing his eyes.
Jisung looked sorrowful though, ignoring the bouquets entirely.
“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asked, the worst scenarios playing in his head.
He swallowed, “They broke up”
His stomach was a pit at the news, “When?”
“Late last night. Chan…still hasn’t come home yet. We have no idea where he is”
“What? How do you know they broke up?”
“Kairi texted Binnie. She was worried. We can’t find him anywhere…”
“I’m going to call him" Hyunjin said, rushing to his room.
“We already tried that, Jinnie” Changbin spoke, “We’ve been trying since an hour”
“Maybe he’ll pick up my call” Hyunjin hoped, as the ringer rang in his ear. After eight rings, Chan did pick up. “Hello, Chan?” Hyunjin asked, voice soft. Jisung and Changbin moved closer, eyes wide as they observed him. Chan sounded low on the other end, “Jinnie…? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay. Where are you, Channie? Are you all right?”
“I’m…fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for the conference”
“No, can I please come get you? Let me” Hyunjin pleaded. There was a pause, and a sigh and then Chan said, “I’m at the old dorm”
“I’ll be right there” Hyunjin hung up.
“No, we’re coming with” Jisung said, stepping ahead.
“Guys. Let me…just do this on my own. Eunwoo would kill us if none of us are here. Me and Chan will make it to the press conference, I promise”
Hyunjin couldn’t drive fast enough. For a second, he worried he would forget the way to their old house but it was embedded into him. It’s where they’d had their whole beginning, and Hyunjin got there in record time. Kairi meant everything to Chan, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d be feeling right now. Chan was always there for him, and he felt personally responsible to make sure he was all right. The old dorm building looked run-down; it had been falling apart for years, even when the boys lived there, and he chose the stairs over the rusty old elevator. On the fourth floor, there was an alcove. It was hidden behind a door that was sometimes locked, but he pushed it open. Chan was sitting inside, on the window seat, a soft smile on his face when he saw Hyunjin approach.
“Just you?” He tilt his head, seeing nobody else follow, “I thought the cavalry would show up”
Hyunjin shot him a soft smile, leaning against the door, “Just me….can I join you?”
Chan pat the empty seat next to him, and Hyunjin sat down. This is where Chan was always found, back when they still lived here. It’s where he came to think. To write their greatest hits. To ponder about life’s biggest mysteries. It was always his place, and Hyunjin could see why he loved it so much. It was hidden, like a secret room. Ignoring the cobweb in the corner, it was cosy. A faded old painting hung on the wall, rickety floorboards that probably hid treasures inside, a window that looked out onto an alley. The alley was something special in itself. It was between two apartment buildings, and a little bakery was carved into the side of the building. The few times Hyunjin sat here with Chan, he’d seen bakers arrive at three in the morning, loading powdered sugar and other ingredients in, creating storms and clouds of sugar. It was always a beautiful sight.
“What happened, Chan?” Hyunjin ended up asking, cutting to the chase. They both knew why he was here. Chan swallowed, looking wistful, “I’m fine, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m going to be okay. I just needed…a day to let the sadness out”
“You can take more than that” 
“Not really. I can’t afford to, not this week. I gotta put on my best self”
“We’ll understand if you don’t.” Hyunjin frowned, admirable of Chan’s resolve, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here” Chan glanced at him, a smile on his face, “I know you are, Jinnie. You’re actually the best, and the worst person to talk to this about”
“Why the worst?” Hyunjin frowned.
Chan laughed, “You don’t want to hear the good part first?”
“No…”
“The worst because…I know what you felt about me and Kairi… I feel responsible for how you see the world, crazy as that sounds. I know you had to hear our arguments the past few weeks, I’m sorry about that. I feel like I took away all your hope.”
Hyunjin swallowed, “It’s not your fault. I’ve had minimal hope to begin with”
Chan laughed, loudly, “God, Jinnie, that’s really fucked up, you know? It shouldn’t be this way. We should be out there, showing our girls the best time”
“You shouldn’t apologize to me for your break up, Chan,” Hyunjin emphasized.
“Wow. Breakup. That sounds insane to say” He breathed in a sigh, as it was finally settling in, “To think I was going to ask her to marry me in a few months”
Hyunjin felt emotional. He’d known and adored their relationship for the longest time, “I’m so sorry, Chan. I don’t know what to say, I wish I could…make this better”
“You don’t have to. I’m…happy you’re here. Kim Soohyun asked to see my phone last night. I don’t know why, but I deleted every conversation with Kairi. I suppose I panicked. I shouldn’t have done that, because now all my best memories with her are just that…memories”
Hyunjin swallowed, and maybe all the reading poetry had rotted his brain. His heart was starting to shrivel, just like the Hydrangeas that were out of bloom. Once he got home, maybe it was the right move to erase his chat history with you too. A small way of shielding himself from the damage that could follow. His memories with you would be lost, but his carelessness would only hurt the boys more.
Chan reminded him far too much of you, the way he held onto memories, objects, and tangible things with an iron grip. He recalled how sad you’d felt erasing the little star you’d drawn from Hyunjin’s face. It had meant so much to you. Maybe he was becoming more like you every day too, which is why the dying flowers still rested on Hyunjin’s desk when he should have thrown them out weeks ago. He ended up saying something that only halfway made sense, “I want to say that…the things we’re meant for will always come back to us, but… I stray further from that thought every day, so I would be lying if I tried to convince you of that” 
Chan smiled sadly, and he held something within his hands, “You’re the most romantic person I know, even without trying to be”
Hyunjin laughed, bitterly, “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed”
Chan turned to him, “Don’t say that, Jinnie”
Hyunjin shook his head, facing him, “I came here for you, not to talk about me…you know you have me, always, right?”
“I know” Chan leaned in, wrapping his arm around Hyunjin. It was an awkward half-hug but Hyunjin relaxed into the embrace, whispering, “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out with Kairi”
Chan pulled away, a sincere smile on his face, “Thank you. We should probably get going if we want to make it in time for the conference”
“You’re right” Hyunjin nodded, but they made no attempt to move, trying to lengthen this short-lived peace.
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.” Chan muttered, and it’s only then that Hyunjin realised what he held in his palm. A diamond ring. The one he was going to propose to Kairi with.
“What?” 
“What our lives are like. Do you never question that?” Chan asked. Hyunjin had never heard him talk like this, and he couldn’t comprehend this. Chan had built them up from the ground up, worked his ass off to get them to where they are. In fact, he couldn’t bear to see this side of him. He shouldn’t be questioning all his hard work, or that all would have been for nothing. Out of all people in the world, Chan couldn't be the one to lose hope. He was their rock.
He felt for Chan. So much. Yet, this train of thought was so dangerous. What would happen to them if they all started hating their job? They had never been forced into this career, they’d made their choices of their own volition, even if it was done as a teenager who didn’t know what he’d be giving up, but they’d gained so much too. The lifestyle Hyunjin led…people would kill for. 14-year-old him would kill for this. And he’d be so proud of him for it too. So, why was he questioning everything now? 
“No, I don’t” Hyunjin said. It was a lie, but he would sell it to Chan, for his sake, “We’re doing something impossible for most people to even imagine in the world. The impact that you have on people is…unreal. Millions of people love you, and you inspire them. You inspire me to work harder everyday. So, I don’t question if it’s worth it, and you shouldn’t either, Chan”
Something in Chan’s eyes changed, as if he had never expected him to say this. Hyunjin, the romantic, would never have said that. Love felt like the core of his life. He was hungry for it, but there was more than one kind of love.
So later that week, when Hyunjin stared at his phone in his hands, it was filled up with memories of you. Every phone call, each picture you’d sent him, each sweet thought he’d scribbled in his notes but never had the chance to send you. The press tour had already begun, and the boys were knee-depth in stress, and Hyunjin could never let himself add to that. Kairi had talked about sacrifices, and he finally understood it. Maybe it was cowardly to never explain to you what was happening, but it was easier. He didn’t have the heart to delete the past few months, so he took Eunwoo’s advice and changed his number instead.
Sorrow settled in his chest as Hyunjin realised that he would go to the ends of the earth for you, but perhaps that wasn’t still enough. He wasn’t willing to give this life up, and this was a sacrifice he was going to have to make.
»»————- Present Day. 
You only had the moonlight to guide you tonight.
There were hardly any streetlights this far out. It was pitch black, and the glow of the moon fell upon Hyunjin’s face, tracing each contour perfectly. You were trying real hard to not look at him. He was drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel and it was annoying. It kept grabbing your attention, and you’d glance at him only to remember you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t spend time marveling at his little mannerisms because…things had changed. 
All you could do was listen to the conversations of the backseat. Chan was mumbling something to Kairi, and their voices had dropped in volume since you’d pulled out of the parking lot. Each syllable was spoken in a whisper, like it was a secret between them, and you felt like you were eavesdropping. Still, there was not much else to focus to. You definitely were not going to focus on the boy sitting next to you.
“I know that it could’ve been better…but I hope that you still had a good time today” Chan said softly, and through the rearview mirror, you saw that they’d laced their hands together. Kairi was leaning into him, fingers interlocked, and you looked down at your hands. The empty spaces between your fingers bothered you. 
“I did, Chris” Her eyes were closed, but she smiled, “Honestly, it was a pretty special birthday”
You averted your gaze, giving them privacy. Hyunjin kept glancing in the mirror briefly before looking back to the road. There was a small smile on his lips. He used to talk about them so much. He must be happy with this outcome. You didn’t know the details of what had gone wrong with their relationship, you’d never pried, but it must have been hard getting back together after all that heartbreak and pain.
“I’m…really fucking tired. I might pass out any second” Kairi announced, followed by a yawn.
“Don’t worry. Hyunjin is a smooth driver” Chan reassured, “Isn’t he?”
Hyunjin nodded, eyes flickering to Chan’s, “Of course. And um, Kairi, if you’re cold, I have an extra jacket in the backseat”
There was rummaging and then Kairi gasped, having found the jacket, “This is so stylish. I missed your clothes, Jinnie”
“Hey, hey. What are you trying to imply?” Chan complained. Kairi giggled, and Hyunjin laughed, “Your girlfriend is a fan of color, Chan. That’s not my fault”
“How predictable of you” Chan mumbled, and you could see him rolling his eyes. You drifted out of their conversation, looking out the window at the passing landscape. Trees drifted by in a blur and there was hardly any civilisation out here. Miles and miles of nothing. 
“Don’t you agree?” Kairi laughed, hand landing on your shoulder, and she was talking to you.
“Sorry?” You asked, “Agree with what?”
“Fuck. Did I wake you?” She apologised, “I didn’t realise you fell asleep”
“No, no, I’m up. I was just distracted….” You replied, clearing your throat. This conversation warranted another glance from Hyunjin, as if he was checking to see what you were distracted by. You returned his gaze with indifference, raising your eyebrows. He immediately looked away, back to the road.
“Well, I was telling Chris that your friends, Minnie and Jamie are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever met. I mean, I hardly see relationships that strong here; people are usually just serial daters” Kairi explained.
“Oh. Right” You nodded, thankful to have the context, “They’re…really cute, yeah”
“A serial dater?” Chan asked.
“Yeah. Dating apps will do that to you, especially in midtown. Take my advice now, never get on one, you’ll be fighting in the trenches” Kairi laughed. The trees were whizzing past so fast it made you dizzy, you mumbled, “It’s funny. Dating apps could never work back home”
“Cause you know everyone? Is that really true?” She asked. You nodded, “I mean, yeah. You go to school with the people technically in your dating age range, and there are only five restaurants and hang-out spots, so you’re always bumping into each other. It’s impossible to not know everyone”
“Was that ever weird?” Kairi asked, “Like seeing your ex at dinner or something?”
A small laugh escaped you, “It actually sucked. You couldn’t escape them”
“Did you ever run into her exes?” Chan asked, and it took you a second to realise the question was directed at Hyunjin. It took him a few seconds and he sat up straighter, mumbling quietly, “No.”
You blinked at his nonchalance, trying not to let this phase you. This could be a normal car ride if you just let it. Suddenly your gut was hurting with anxiety and you looked out the window again, away from him.
“Well, thankfully, I’ve never had to deal with that,” Chan spoke, “Eunwoo would have a heart attack if one of us was found on those apps. Although there’s quite a few fake profiles out there with Hyunjin’s face on them”
“Eunwoo?” You asked, ignoring the second part of his statement. It sent jealousy surging through you. Why did you feel jealous by even the thought of Hyunjin being on a dating app? You needed to get a grip on your emotions. 
“Ah. Hyunjin didn’t tell you?” Chan asked, so casually, “Eunwoo’s…our manager, of sorts”
Without thinking, you spoke, “I thought your manager was the lady in the shop”
“What shop?” Chan frowned, confused, “Wait, hold up. You’ve met one of our managers, Y/N? Where was that?” You stayed silent, for only a second, wondering if Hyunjin would answer this question. After all, he knew the manager and they were in the shop for a reason. The one where he had ignored you completely, as if you didn’t exist. You were only there by accident, after losing your way trying to find the Atelier. To your relief, Hyunjin did speak, “Yeah. That was Mrs. Giwon…she was accompanying me on one of the snack runs”
“Ah” Kairi exclaimed, “She’s…the worst one”
“Hey” Chan spoke, “She’s really helpful sometimes”
“Anyway…moving on” Kairi rolled her eyes, “She kind of traumatised me after she busted us”
“Busted you?” You turned, intrigued. Kairi laughed, “She walked in on me and Chan making out in the studio! God, that day was hell. She like…actually yelled at me for not maintaining a professional attitude in their building”
“And that, of course…led to the no-girlfriend in the studio rule,” Chan mumbled, and through the rearview, you saw him roll his eyes. That seemed like an insane rule to have, especially for adults. You stole a glance at Hyunjin to catch his reaction. He looked straight ahead, as if he couldn’t even hear this conversation, laser-focused on driving the empty streets. Kairi laughed loudly, “Changbin was the most pissed about that!”
“He has a girlfriend?” 
“No. That man’s a serial dater, through and through. He’s too busy producing insane music to have a full relationship anyway. He goes through NDA’s faster than you can say hookup, but honestly…he enjoys himself so much. He’s…very popular with all the girls”
You wanted to ask so much more about that. NDAs…? So that was a truth and not a rumor. Hyunjin had never mentioned those to you. At the paint and wine event, Sakura and Yeosang had asked him about it, and he’d been cautious about answering. But it was true. All of it felt so silly. Their words came back to you. Imagine sleeping with someone and then signing a contract instead of some aftercare.
If you and Hyunjin had hooked up back in Daejon, would he have also made you sign an NDA? But he fingered you. He let you touch him. He let you cut his hair and give him a handjob in his little bathroom. Did that not ask for an NDA? Or did he just trust you enough? All the possibilities floated through your head, and stupidly, like a stupid girl, you blurted, “So what all does that NDA cover? Is it just sex or…is it like, making out and other things too? And it's legally required?”
At your question, Hyunjin’s grip on the wheel tightened. His shoulders tensed up. 
You’d struck a nerve. 
Good. 
It was satisfying to know you had some sort of impact on him. Till now, he was just pretending you didn’t exist. 
Kairi paused, pondering over it, “Um…pretty much just sex, but like…I didn’t have to sign an NDA every single time. It’s only if it’s with a new person"
“Right”
Chan laughed, “I know. It sounds crazy. Especially in the 21st century, but with the internet and everything, you can never be too careful what people will say in a public forum. Hyunjin, didn’t you hate them too when we started out?”
Hyunjin cleared his throat, “Yeah. It’s stupid”
So he would sign them too? How often did he sleep with a new girl? You didn’t want to think about this any longer. There was no point wondering about his past when you wouldn’t be in his future. Your phone buzzed against the console and you grabbed it, positioning it on the seat between your legs so you could read it. It was a text from Felix.
hey. i was just talking with minho and man, i miss you I know you’ve likely forgotten all about me but call me later please…I think ill die here without you
A smile pulled at your cheeks, and you typed in a quick reply.
im getting back from a party lixie. It was kairi’s birthday. i miss you guys too :(
“Who are you texting at this hour?” Kairi piped up, leaning ahead, “Nate?”. You immediately clicked your phone screen black, even though you had nothing to hide. You just shot her a smile, “Just… a friend from back home”
Hyunjin probably knew exactly who you were talking about, yet he didn’t react. His stone-cold demeanour was really beginning to bother you.
“So where were you guys, at the party? When we found you, you two were at the cabins” Kairi spoke, breaking the tension. You swallowed, wondering if he would answer but he obviously wasn’t interested in speaking so you said, “I was dancing. And then…I hurt myself. So Hyunjin took me to the cabin to find a bandaid”
That wasn’t exactly what had happened. You had conveniently skipped over your argument, and the two of you spying on them, but Hyunjin nodded along, following your lie, “Yeah. There were no first aid kits there though”
Kairi nodded, “Shit, yeah. We didn’t think anybody would use the cabins for anything other than sex…anyway, I was thinkingggg we should play some game. It’d be nice to kill the time.”
Chan reminded her, “I thought you were about to pass out, baby”
Kairi was full of energy now as she suggested, “Well, I’m wide awake now! I kind of want the celebration to last a little while longer. Y/N, you can pick a game, since you're my guest of honour! Do you know any good ones?”
It seemed like Kairi and Chan had absolutely no fucking idea what happened between you and Hyunjin. They knew you weren’t together, but it seemed like they knew nothing more than that. Hyunjin hadn’t told them any of the details. They only knew you’d ended things, but not why. By their ease, and comfort…it seemed like they didn’t even know Hyunjin had been the one to end things with you. The memory of that made your chest clench, with hurt.
The heartbreak felt so one-sided. Everything seemed so easy for him. Had you got everything wrong this summer? Had you read too much into his actions? You felt embarrassed, thinking back to the kind of things you’d said to him. You didn’t tell him you loved him, but you pretty much said everything else. He knew more about you than anybody else in your life, and now he wouldn't even talk to you. You’d been willing to move to the city for him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Being in Seoul suddenly didn’t feel worth it anymore.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“We still are two hours out of the city. It’d be fun to play something” Kairi said, glancing at the GPS on the console. Play something? Like a road trip game? This hardly felt like a road trip, it was far too depressing to be one. “I’m…good with anything” You spoke, “I’m kind of really tired”
“How about word association?” Chan suggested, “I used to play that with my family as a kid”
You realised he was waiting for your response so you nodded, “Sure. How does it go…? Is there a way to lose?”
“Only if you take longer than three seconds to answer. We go in a circle, Kairi can start with any random word, you have to say a word related to the previous one, and the person who can’t come up with something loses”
You weren’t really in the mood to play, but you would need more energy to protest. Plus, any time interacting with the back-seaters was time removed with the boy in the front seat. Kairi quickly explained the rules, and that it would go clockwise, starting with Hyunjin. He still hadn’t reacted to the idea of the game so you weren’t even sure if he was playing. Kairi hummed loudly, looking around for inspiration. Dark clouds were forming on the horizon so she naturally said, “Thunder!”
“Storm” You immediately said.
“Well, Hyunjin was supposed to go” Kairi laughed, “I’ll go again. Eclipse?”
“Cosmic” Hyunjin replied. A curt, short, emotionless answer. You realised you had to speak now. You mumbled, “Um…the stars”
“Marilyn Monroe” Chan said. Kairi laughed loudly, “Chris. What the hell?”
“What? She’s…a star” Chan defended. You smiled at their bantering. Kairi rolled her eyes, “No. That’s what’s called a Freudian slip”
“Excuse me?” Chan giggled, “Don’t psychobabble me. What even is that?”
Kairi laughed, “It’s this theory that if you accidentally say something wrong, you were thinking about it subconsciously. Most people are thinking about sex, so that’s what a lot of Freudian slips reveal”
“So what… you’re accusing me of wanting to sleep with Marilyn Monroe?” Chan frowned. She giggled, “No, I’m just saying that’s how it works, smartass. It usually reveals your repressed thoughts”
You glanced back at her, “Yeah. I guess that’s what this entire game is about. Although I really don’t think Freud has had the best ideas. Some of them are…really regressive” 
Kairi grinned at you, nodding aggressively and she was still tipsy from before, “You’re so right, honestly. Most of the people I played this game with had no idea what a Freudian slip was. You know, this is why we’re friends. You’re…so fucking cool. You’re just like me”
“Y/N is not just like you” Chan laughed loudly.
“Excuse me?” She gasped, offended, “You just met her. How would you even know what she’s like?”
Chan chuckled, “Yeah, but I’ve been hearing about her all summer—” He suddenly stopped, realising what he’d said. An awkward silence enveloped the car and you did everything not to look at Hyunjin. So… Chan had been hearing about you all summer. You knew Hyunjin had told the boys about you. You just wondered what he’d said. What did he know of you? Chan cleared his throat, embarrassed by his slip of the tongue, “I mean….never mind. Should we continue the game? Hyunjin. Why don’t you start?”
Hyunjin swallowed, adjusting his hands on the wheel, “Um. I don’t know. Sin?”
Your eyes widened at his word choice, and it was your turn to go next. Sin? What was he even thinking of? Your mind went through the seven deadly sins that you knew of, and you only had three seconds so you blurted, “Lust”
It was Chan’s turn now, and he blanked, eyes widening, “Uh…passion?”
You didn’t like this tangent of thought… and you waited for Kairi to say something. Chan teased, “Are you serious? You’re gonna lose”. She yelled, “Wait, wait. I know. Yearning!”
It was Hyunjin’s turn to play. His mouth parted, and he was about to say something, but instead he chose not to. He just shook his head, “I don’t know…I can’t really focus on the game when I’m driving”
Kairi sighed, “Can’t believe you lost on yearning, Hyunjin”
“Yeah. My mistake” He mumbled. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. You didn’t really want to play this game anymore. You stared out the window, your reflection flickering in the window. You wanted to be home already, and not in this car where you felt like a stranger.
There was so much brevity and lightheartedness in the conversations between Chan and Kairi, and here you were…struggling to even get a proper hi out. You felt like a stranger, even to Kairi. You’d only known her for a few weeks, compared to them. The three of them felt like a unit, like a family that was finally complete again. Hyunjin had sang praises of their love, and you could see it now. It wasn’t anything grand or impossible, it was so casual and effortless. Kairi and Chan fit together like puzzle pieces, so perfectly, but even more than that, they enhanced each other so simply. There was no fear of misunderstandings, or betrayal. They were giggling in the back, laughing about some inside joke you’d never be able to understand. Perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted this ride. Kairi was your friend, but you weren’t really welcome here. You were an outsider. Chan must have wanted to keep the conversation going so he said, “So, Y/N, you were about to tell me about yourself when we got in the car” 
You swallowed, “Um, I didn’t know I was going to be doing that”
Kairi teased, “Yeah, Chan. I thought you knew all about her, and how me and her are so similar”
Chan giggled, “It was a figure of speech. No, but seriously, Y/N”
You bit your lip, and a deep sadness was overwhelming you. One you’d been trying to escape for months but it seemed impossible now. You’d genuinely enjoyed the party, until he’d showed up. He’d ruined everything. It had taken so long for you to not think about him. Now you felt like you were sinking again, “Um…what do you want to know? I came here to study art. There’s not really much to tell…You’re the one who has a really interesting life."
Chan frowned, “Come on. That’s not a real answer. I wanna know you, not answers you’d type in on some Facebook page”
You were at a loss for words, and you mostly just felt conscious around Hyunjin. You always hated introductions like this, and icebreakers, especially around someone you wanted to like you. Chan seemed amazing, he was brilliant so how could your little life possibly impress him? You’d done nothing that would have an impact on anyone, unlike them. Anything you say would be so boring. So you settled for a basic fact about yourself, a preface to your personality, “Well…I used to work in an art—”
“She’s a really good artist” Hyunjin suddenly interrupted you.
Your gaze snapped to his.
“Oh yeah?” Chan asked, surprised.
“Yup” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “She’s in the most prestigious program of the country” 
Chan smiled, “Wow. That’s…amazing, Y/N. You should be bragging about that stuff”
“There’s only like…25 people that get in from across the world” Hyunjin continued talking, staring right ahead so casually. There was a knot in your stomach, and he had the faintest of a smile on his face as he talked about you. It was more than he’d given you in the past hours, “She’s one of the few domestic students”
“What? You didn’t tell me that!” Kairi exclaimed, hand reaching out to tap you. But you were speechless, staring at Hyunjin. Why did he just do that?
“Well, now you’ve got to show me your art, Y/N!” Chan grinned, “Hyunjin’s got pretty high standards when it comes to those, so I’m curious”
You nodded, forcing a smile at him, “Yeah…um, maybe later”
“Well, I hope you taught Hyunjin something too” Chan laughed. 
Hyunjin nodded, and there was a hint of emotion as he spoke, “She did”
You chewed on your lower lip, fiddling with your jacket, thinking about his words, even long after he’d said them.
The barren highway enveloped the car in darkness, and the tiny GPS screen was the only light source. You stared ahead, watching the road lit up in the headlights, uncovering more of the unknown every second. There was nobody else out here. It was spooky, and you hated the feeling. You felt trapped in this metal contraption. Hyunjin’s fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel, a familiar rhythm, probably calming his nerves down. The backseat noise had died down, and it seemed like the tiredness had finally hit Kairi. The only indication of passing time was the clock on the dashboard. You watched it tick down every second, hoping it would go faster. The city was still so far out. You leaned back onto the seat, watching trees whiz past in silence. Hyunjin was so quiet you’d almost think he fell asleep. The only surmountable sound was the heating, and the tapping of his fingers. You closed your eyes, hoping the time would pass faster.
You couldn’t help but think of what was waiting for you. There was no lingering excitement. This party had been the only thing you’d been looking forward to for a while. There was so much work back in class, starting Monday. Kim Jieong was expecting so much from you. You felt emotionally drained. He was your only motivation, pushing you to get better. After all, there was nothing else waiting for you back there. 
Suddenly Hyunjin cleared his throat, drawing your attention. From your peripheral vision, you saw him reach for the radio, fingers hovering over the console, and then he looked to you, “Um…mind if I put something on?”
You blinked, distracted by how he looked in the glow of the light. His glasses were thin, hanging on his nose bridge, and his lips were pursed. He’d bitten them raw. Maybe you weren’t the only one anxious in this car. You shook your head, “Go ahead”
He pressed a button, and life filled the previously stagnant car. An announcer was talking, probably at an all-night radio station, and you asked softly, “Wouldn’t this wake them up?”
Hyunjin looked at you again, over the rim of his glasses, eyes meeting yours for another torturous split second. In the dark, they looked like pools of black, a darkened gaze as he spoke, “Uh, don’t worry. I turned the speakers in the back off. It’s only the front ones that are working”
Oh. You didn’t even know that was possible. They obviously had access to the best cars with the best technologies. Music began playing, a rock band from the 80s, and you rest your head again, closing your eyes to savour in this newfound peace. It was strange to sit next to the man you desired the most yet have no conversation. For the past few months, it had been impossible to separate you, and the irony of this moment didn’t fail to surprise you. You’d come all the way to Seoul for him. Yet the only sound in the car was Bon Jovi on the radio. 
“Um—”
“So—” You and Hyunjin both spoke at the same time.
“Sorry,” You apologised, “What were you about to say?”
He glanced at you, hand reaching out to the radio again, and you noticed he had new rings on his finger. They looked so expensive, glittering sparkles, and he must have bought them recently. He seemed nervous and he spoke, “I can…uh, change the music if you don’t like it”
Your eyebrows shot up. That clearly wasn’t what he was going to say. “No, it’s nice. I like him”
He nodded, retreating his hand and putting it back on the console. You wondered about the unspoken, but wondering would only kill you. So you shut your eyes again, hands warm in your lap, wishing to be somewhere else. The tune was thrilling. 
“80’s music is actually one of my favourites”
You opened your eyes to look at him, “Really?”
“Yeah. I think….their songs are pretty incomparable. I actually got a lot of inspiration for our album from them. I don’t know if you heard it; it’s very pop-rock heavy, which isn’t what we usually do” He spoke, a nervous wavering in his voice, as if you two were just getting to know each other. 
You observed him, “Is that what you were going to say earlier?”
“Sorry?” He looked right at you, dark eyes flickering over your features. You felt conscious of how you looked. You were still in his sweater, and your hair was still wet from the swim. You said, “Um…you were about to say something but decided not to. Was that it?”
Realisation sank into his face, lips parting, “No, I was…going to ask you how you met Kairi”
“Oh…” Disappointment filled you. What were you expecting to be said? An apology would be nice actually. Something to start with. You were having trouble grasping that things between you and him were truly over. They couldn’t be. Hadn’t he only come into your life yesterday, uprooting everything you thought you knew about yourself? Or maybe you were just desperately clinging on to a summer dream that wasn’t real.
“Sorry. Should I not have asked?” Hyunjin said. 
“No, that’s fine. It was just a crazy coincidence. We were at a bar…me and my friends, and somebody spilled a drink on her, I just happened to be there. I offered to help her. Obviously…I didn’t know who she was. Later, I realised it was Kairi”
“That’s…” Hyunjin’s fingers adjusted on the steering wheel, he spaced them out, glancing at you again, “That’s really nice of you”
“Yeah”
“Are you cold?” He asked.
“What? Um, no.” You shook your head awkwardly. His sweater was keeping you plenty warm.
“Okay”
The silence drowned you again, and you focused on the song playing, replaying the previous conversation in your head, clinging to it for life.
“I…tried Gouache” 
It took you a second to register that Hyunjin was talking to you, again.
Why was he making an effort after what went down earlier? You’d argued and fought, and now he was…trying to be nice? Was he trying to make amends? Did he finally realise what an asshole he’d been? Or were his memories of summer coming back to him too? Because every time you looked at him, all you could remember was the calmness of each moment you’d spent with him, and how his skin had felt to touch, and how his body had felt against yours, warm and comforting. How could he not be thinking of that?
“Sorry?” You glanced at him. 
He straightened up, hands clasped before him, “I…taught myself Gouache. I hadn’t explored it much before, but I had some time between schedules last month and I decided to give it a shot”
You didn’t know what to say. Gouache was such a difficult pigmented paint medium to work with. You stayed quiet, which somehow… he took a sign to continue speaking, “It was hard…but I found the supplies and tried many styles with it. I couldn’t get it right for the longest time but then realised I had the wrong brushes. I…think I prefer it to watercolor”
“Are you serious?”
He glanced at you, almost surprised that you’d replied even though he had been telling you all of this. He nodded, his lips a thin line.
“Gouache can never have the same effect, or…even replace watercolours. It’s…so much more intense. It loses all of its softness” You ended up saying.
“Have you worked with it before?”
“In class. I do all the time” You answered, “I don’t like it. I prefer acrylics or oil”
Hyunjin nodded, eyes zeroed in on you again, “Do you have the freedom to choose?”
“Choose what?”
“The material you want to paint with” He stated, simply. 
“Yeah. It’s up to us” You said.
Hyunjin just nodded, and then silently turned away. As did you. Queen was playing on the radio now, and you liked this song. Somebody to Love. It seemed like Hyunjin enjoyed this song too, because he reached ahead, his bracelets clinking together and he increased the volume just slightly. You glanced in the rearview mirror, and Kairi and Chan were still asleep, cuddled up to each other. Hyunjin was softly singing, under his breath, but he knew all the words. His voice brought a strange calmness to your body, warming it up.
“I can’t believe you tried Gouache” You mumbled, still thinking about it. You didn’t want to initiate conversation with him, not after everything he’d done to your heart. But you were so curious. It was really hard to work with, especially if someone was a beginner.
“Can I show you something?” He asked.
“What?”
He looked at you, a newfound energy in him, “The…paintings I’ve been working on”
“Unless you’re going to pull over—”
“They’re in my phone. You can just…see them there”
You glanced at his phone that lay on the console.
“Um…are you sure?” You reached for his phone, and it was strange that he completely trusted you with it.
“Yeah. I don’t mind. There’s nothing I have to hide from you. The password…I can just type it in” He grabbed it from you, entering random numbers that you couldn’t grasp the significance of, before handing his unlocked phone back to you. The wallpaper was a pretty sunset. You recognised the landscape instantly. It must have been the pictures he took on the Ferris wheel with Seungmin, back at the summer carnival. Memories of that flooded through you. It had been a perfect day. You recalled the photobooth pictures that lay in your sketchbook, Hyunjin had put them there for you to find. You still didn’t understand why, or how he got a hold of them. As far as you knew, he’d deleted them in front of your eyes. You glanced at him; his eyebrows were knitted as he concentrated on driving, still occasionally mouthing the words to the song. You may never get this chance again. “How’d you get those pictures?” You broke the silence.
It took him a second to comprehend your question, and he turned casually, “Hmm?”
In this angle, confusion on his face, nose scrunched up, he looked so tame, so innocent. You already wished to take back what you’d said, in case it ruin this strange peace. It was too late to back up now as he stared at you so you said, “In my sketchbook, I found the photobooth strip. The pictures of us kissing. I…thought you deleted them”
His eyes widened, and he turned back to the road, voice dropping low, “Oh… It doesn’t really matter, Y/N”
His response irked you. It reminded you again that this was futile, whatever you chased for with Hyunjin. “Yeah. It doesn’t” You agreed, looking back at his phone in your hands. You opened up his picture gallery. Everything was divided into little folders, and his entire life was so organised. If you were his girlfriend, would there be a folder for you in it too? You clicked on the one which was so fittingly named ‘Art’. You were annoyed at him but you couldn’t pretend, “Oh. These are…really good, Hyunjin”
He clearly gravitated towards drawing flowers and landscapes. Some of them were familiar, most of them were new. There were so many pictures of flowers, at all stages. He must be drawing from life. It seemed like he’d developed a lot of art ever since he’d come back. They were all so intense and bold, no softness to them that watercolour provided. You’d always thought that Gouache was something in between watercolour and acrylic, a strange midway compromise, yet Hyunjin had made masterpieces out of it, “You did all of these in Gouache?”
He only nodded in response, as you scrolled through the gallery.
“You’re crazy” You said.
Hyunjin let out a laugh, “You really hate it that much?”
“It’s just difficult to work with, but you’re actually really great at these” You stared at the art, and how his technique had improved. All his lines were more confident, pronounced, bolder. He’d gotten so much better in your absence. You’d only gotten worse in his.
“So…how’s the apprenticeship going? Is Kim Jieong as nice as you thought?” He asked. You put his phone back on the console, even though you urged to see everything he’d felt worth storing in his phone. He had asked you a question so you tried to focus on that, “Yeah. He’s really nice. He is so talented. I, um, asked him about the painting, by the way. The one we were talking about”
“The one about the lovers drowning in moonlight?”
You nodded, hands feeling jittery, unable to stomach this casual conversation, “Yup. He was surprised it was my favourite. He thinks I have morbid taste. And… the day he took us to your work building, he wanted us to meet some gallery curator”
“Must have been Karina”
“You know her?” You glanced at him, hoping your face didn’t give anything away. How petty of you to be jealous that he knew another girl. Another artist at that. 
“She’s the prodigy I was telling you about. She wants me to…exhibit some of my work at a gallery next month”
Your eyes widened, and you fiddled with the zipper on the jacket, “Oh. That’s…a big deal. Are you allowed to do that?”
He looked at you, “Yeah, the company and Eunwoo’s really supportive. The fans love it, so he thinks it’s a great stream of revenue and publicity. Any press is good press. He couldn’t care less about the art” 
“Right” You nodded, watching him, “Well, maybe Kim Jieong will make it a field trip for us again. Your exhibition”
Hyunjin’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’d be really embarrassing. I wouldn’t want all your professional artist friends to judge my work”
“Well…they’re not as pretentious as you might think. My friends…they’re really nice. Everybody’s not bad. I mean…it was hard settling in, but…I think I like it now” You were rambling, without meaning to share so much with him. Maybe you’d just been craving to have a real conversation with him all this while. After all, he was the only person in your life who understood, “And Kim Jieong is my favourite part of it anyway. Even if everybody sucks. I look up to him a lot. He…even calls me sweetheart. It always throws me off” 
“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”
You frowned, not expecting that response, “No…he has different nicknames for everyone”
“I see” His reply was curt, like he didn’t believe that. He cleared his throat, “And um…your friends? The other students? Are they cool?”
“I mean, you’ve already met Jeonghan”
“Is that the boy who you were dancing with?”
“Yeah, that’s him”
Hyunjin stayed quiet for a minute and then he said, “He has two left feet”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry” He chuckled dryly, “When you were dancing with him, he almost dropped you…like ten times”
“He only came to the party for me, because I didn’t know anybody. Don’t make fun of him. He was kind of the best part of my day”
“I’m not making fun of him. It’s just an observation” Hyunjin mumbled, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes and he looked at you, “And I saw your face. You were worried he’d drop you too”
“I was not” Your eyes narrowed, but a stupid smile tugged at your lips, “Anyway. You’re one to talk. You’re probably worse”
He laughed properly this time, looking at you over his glasses, “Oh, am I?”
You shrugged, “We’ve never danced together so it could be true”
“I think you’re forgetting that I’m a professional dancer, Y/N” His tone was cocky.
You sighed, facing away to look out, “Ugh. Do you always have to bring up the idol card?”
“The idol card?” He repeated, “That’s my job, what do you mean?”
“Just seems like an unfair advantage”
Hyunjin chuckled, “Fine. Okay. Even if I wasn’t a professional dancer, I bet I’d still be able to take Jeonghan in a dance battle”
“I’m starting to think that you’re obsessed with him…”
Hyunjin laughed, “I guess I see why you chose him now”
Your gaze darted to his, “What?”
You arrived at a railway crossing. The signal was loud, and he stopped the car, foot on the brake as he slowed down. “He is your boyfriend…isn’t he?” He said, so surely. 
You stared at him, wondering how he could ask that so casually, so unaffected. You’d probably die if Hyunjin had a girlfriend. Did he think you’d move on so fucking fast? You woke and fell asleep to the thought of him every day still, months later. You thought of him every waking second. Maybe you should take a book out of Hyunjin’s ability to be vague, “Are you seriously asking me that?”
He looked at you, eyes heavy with emotion. He swallowed, “Yeah. I am”
You stared right back at him, heart pounding fast, “Yeah. I am dating him”
“Oh” He shifted in his seat, “That’s nice…how long have you known him?”
You couldn’t believe he could be so…casual about it. You looked out, “It doesn’t matter”
Hyunjin nodded, “Well. For what it’s worth, Nate seems like a nice guy”
You just couldn’t comprehend how the fuck he could be so casual about this. As if you two had just been an inconvenient situationship and your lives and souls hadn’t completely intertwined this summer. As if you’d just move away, and get a new boyfriend and fall in love. As if you could ever truly move on from Hyunjin. As if he didn't know that you'd been in love with him this whole time. It wasn’t that simple. It could never be.
“So…you really don’t give a fuck?”
“I’m sorry?” He looked at you, feigning innocence, “About what?”
You could have said so many things. Bitterness clawed out of you. “Well, for what it’s worth, Nate’s a great kisser”
His eyes widened, and he nodded, voice falling low, “I’m sure he is”
You couldn’t stop. You wanted your words to stab him like little knives he’d dug into your skin all this while, “And for what it’s worth, I actually trust him” 
Hyunjin tensed up, fists clenching at the wheel. The train was just passing by, and the signal was so loud but you knew he heard you. “I’m…glad you trust him” He ended up saying. 
You watched him, observing every micro-expression. You could have played along, egged him on, made him believe it. He should hurt too, like you were, but you couldn’t wrap your head around this. Was it really so easy for him to move on? He was pretending like nothing ever affected him. Were you seriously the only one who had been invested in the two of you? You let out a laugh, “So that’s it?”
“What?” He looked at you.
“You don’t care? You really think I would just date…a random guy from my class? Because if you think that, you don’t—”
His brows shot up, “I’m sorry, so you’re not dating him? Why would you tell me you were?” 
“Do you care if I was?”
He frowned, eyebrows furrowing, “Seriously? You know I still care about you, right?”
It pissed you off. He had no right to say something like that when he didn’t give a fuck about you. He had just abandoned you, with no intention of ever making up things, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I mean…everything you’ve done to me the past few months has shown me quite the opposite. That you don’t care”
His eyes widened, “Everything I’ve done to you?”
A scoff escaped you, and you were losing it, “I’m sure you had your reasons for never wanting to talk to me again. I, personally, would have just liked a goodbye or an explanation before you decided to leave. That’s just me though. But you know what? Maybe I read too much in what happened this summer”
He swallowed, shifting to look at you, “Look, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. I didn’t know how to explain and I thought that you would understand—”
How the fuck could he expect you to understand? Your voice shot up, and everything you'd wondered over the past few months bubbled to the surface, “You…pushed me away, Hyunjin. You completely got rid of me! I’m sure you had your reasons, but I wasn’t okay. I’m still not fucking okay. It was a complete asshole move to block me for months with no explanation. I didn’t even know you’re capable of something like that, but you know what, it sucks to find out. In my head, I built you up to be some angel on a fucking pedestal. That was obviously my mistake” 
He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing, and you could see him grappling with what to say. It felt good to render him speechless. It took away from your embarrassment of knowing that Kairi and Chan could probably hear each second of this conversation. 
“Things were always going to end this way. You knew that, Y/N” The way he spoke pissed you off, like he had a rehearsed answer in his head and no real fucking emotions. Why could he just not tell you what he truly felt? Why was he trying so hard to be someone he was not?
A dry chuckle escaped you, and it was better you take out your anger on him because you felt like crying with each word you said, “No, I didn’t know that. if I knew that you were just going to disappear, I would have preferred never to know you”
His gaze burned through you, “Y/N…”
Somebody suddenly knocked on Hyunjin’s window, and you shook away your building tears. It was an officer, and Hyunjin rolled down the window, “Yes?”
He leaned in, not knowing what he was interrupting, “Excuse me? The signal’s running at a delay. There’s going to be a ten minute hold-up”
Hyunjin nodded, “Oh okay”
He rolled the window back up, and looked back at you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even look at him. You hated him and his fucking nonchalance. You swallowed, “I need some air”
Before he could say something, you opened the door, stepping out. There would be a delay anyway, and hardly any cars were behind you. You walked to the side of the street, taking in a breath, willing yourself to not start fucking cry.
Another car door slammed shut behind you, and Hyunjin followed you out.
“Y/N—” He said, walking around the car, following you to the side.
Your emotions were brimming to the top, and you couldn’t keep it in. It would be petty, mean, childish but you deserved to get some answers.
You turned around, voice raising, “If I hadn’t moved to the city, you would have never met me again” It wasn’t a question. You knew he had no plans of returning to town anytime this century, “And you were just okay with that? With never seeing me again?”
He closed his eyes, his body towering over you, “It’s…not that simple”
“Yeah. It is. You didn’t even think I was worth an explanation…or a proper goodbye?”
“I…didn’t know what to say. You just have to believe when I say I’m doing this for your own good”
“Really?” You scoffed, “You expect me to believe that…? You could’ve said anything.  Anything would have been better than what I got. Just tell me what's going on, please”
“Anything I said would have hurt you” His voice was shaking, like he was going to cry. How could he ever explain that he had picked his life over you? That you were the sacrifice he had decided to make?
You loved him, and you couldn’t bear to be the reason he cried but you had so many questions. Your voice was loud, in disbelief and frustration, “How is this any different? You cut me out of your life like it was nothing”
“It wasn’t nothing. It was just as hard for me as—”
“No, I’m not done talking. After losing you, moving to the city was the hardest thing I ever did. Leaving Daejon behind, all my friends…the only life I knew, and this place where I don’t really fit perfectly, but I’m trying so hard to. It is so hard. The only thing I love…I can’t even love that anymore because I can’t fucking stop thinking about you when I’m painting! It’s not fair. You had a choice, Hyunjin. I didn’t” Your voice broke.
“Before I saw you in the shop, I was this close to calling you up” He held up a small gap between his fingers, “I just…always ended up talking myself out of it”
A scoff escaped you, at the ridiculousness of his response, “I really have a hard time believing that”
“I don’t expect you to believe me anyway” He mumbled. You stared at him, crossing your arms, wondering how everything led to this, “I thought you were different, Hyunjin, from every other guy I’ve known in my life… but you…”
He stepped closer to you, running a hand through his hair, “What was I supposed to say to you, Y/N? That I never want to see you again? Do you think that would be easy for me to say?”
“I don’t know, Hyunjin! I don’t fucking know, but anything would have been better than what I got, because the person I knew would never have acted this drastically. So, were you just pretending in Daejon? Or are you pretending now? Because I’m having a real hard time telling who the real you is, Hyunjin—”
His eyes widened at those words, as if they personally struck him. He grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him in the process, “Y/N— Stop. I’m not…I never pretended with you”
His grip on you was firm, but enough that you could let go if you wanted. You looked up at him, and you were already so emotional, “Then why are you being so cold? You’ve been acting like you don’t care, but I don’t even know if you’re acting anymore. I feel like…I never saw the real you. That’s what you’re making me believe”
His closed his eyes, shaking his head at your words like they were the worst thing he could hear, “I’m sorry”
Your eyebrows knitted together, voice fading, “For…what?”
“For…changing my number and not telling you” He swallowed, and his hands held yours in between them like a prayer, “For…trying to push you away. For ignoring you in the shop”
His eyes glimmered with incoming tears, but he cleared his throat, and blinked them away, “I’m sorry I didn’t apologise until today”
You swallowed. You’d been waiting for an apology this whole time, but your heart still hurt. There wasn’t any explanation. You couldn’t…just believe him. Your heart squeezed so bad, it felt like a heart attack. You blinked away tears.
“There’s…a lot I want to talk to you about, but I can’t do it here” He swallowed, and there was a cloud of smoke when he talked, it was freezing outside but your heart felt dead, “You just have to believe me when I say I’m doing this for your own good”
“I don’t understand…”
He closed his eyes, and the train at the signal crossing was still passing, giving you a few more moments of his vulnerability, “I’ve told you before. If we didn’t stop talking when we did…it would have led to something more that I can’t deny. I’m not going to regret my choices because I know why I made them. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I will always fucking care about you, it’s insane to even think anything else but…I can’t be in your life, and you can’t be in mine”
Tears threatened to shoot up, but you had some dignity clinging on so you said, “Then what is this? Why are you still being nice to me, making conversation? Why did you show up tonight? Why are you driving me home? If you don’t want me in your life, then just…stay out of it, Hyunjin”
He blinked, glossy eyes, and suddenly the car behind you honked. The train had passed, and you were free to cross.
His voice was shaking and this was the most emotion you’d seen in him in months, “I…couldn’t leave you at the party. It’s not safe…of course I had to drive you home. I would go insane if something happened to you”
You ripped your hands away from him, “Then I guess it’s a good thing that it’s not your responsibility anymore”
»»————-
The rest of the ride was fucking horrible. You stared out the window the entire time, and Hyunjin didn’t say anything else. Maybe it really was over now. What was left to salvage? You don’t know how much Kairi and Chan had heard, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were probably getting back together, which meant you couldn’t be a part of this anymore. If Kairi started hanging out with Chan again, you would obviously not be invited. Not after they witnessed you being such a bitch to their best friend. They were friends first, after all. You were the stranger.
“The next right turn” You mumbled, as you approached the street you lived on. Hyunjin brought the car to a stop. They were now awake in the backseat. You didn’t even know what to say. You unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbing your bag of things, avoiding eye contact with anybody, “Thank you for the ride home”
“I can walk you home” Chan offered.
“I’ll be fine. It’s a minute away” You replied, holding your bag to your chest.
“It’s really late out” Chan replied, insisting. You didn’t want to argue with him any further. The longer you argued, the longer you’d have to stay in this car, next to Hyunjin. He was looking at you, but he was pretending real hard not to. The eyes flickering back and forth, it couldn’t fool you. You’d become an expert on all things him. These secretive glances were all you had back then, so how could you not notice them now?
“Don’t worry about it, Chan” You replied, shooting them a smile so they believed you. Chan nodded, and you glanced at Kairi. She looked tired, but she was in his arms, so she was clearly very happy. She smiled warmly, and you wonder if they’d heard you breaking down. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Thank you for a perfect birthday, Y/N. You had a good time?”
“Of course.” You nodded. You were suffocating in here. You reached for the doorknob, but then you heard Hyunjin’s voice, “Good luck with class”
You couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but you’d die for it. You stepped out into the cold, glancing briefly back, “Yeah. Thanks.”
It didn’t matter because he had already looked away. It’s like he couldn’t bear to see you anymore.
»»————-
“Do you want to talk about it?” Your neighbour, Jeongin, stood in the doorway. You had been standing in the cold for a while, staring at the spot the car had been. It had driven off a while ago, but you could still picture it where it stood. The humming of the engine, the heat, the stupid 80s music stuck in your head. You had been so mean to him. He didn’t deserve it.
You looked at him in surprise, “You’re awake?”
“I work on European time” He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. It was freezing cold, and you could feel it in your bones. It had never been this way back home. “Let’s just go inside” You spoke.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea” He smiled, pulling you in by your arm, “I was wondering how the party went”
You followed him up the stairs, feeling like a zombie in each step, “It was good. I missed you at it. You should have come”
“I’m sure Nate kept you plenty company” Jeongin laughed, “Are you going to go to sleep now?”
It was almost six am, and the sun was rising. You don’t think you could fall asleep with these thoughts in your head. You glanced at him, “Why? You got something in mind?”
He grinned, like he'd been waiting for you to ask him this. And so you spent the dawn with Jeongin, in his cosy apartment, struggling over a 1000-piece puzzle and downing the red wine he’d brought you. He didn’t ask you any questions, which was nice. You wouldn’t even know where to start. He was sweet and he was always smiling, telling you about his work and all the new video games he’d bought. You prolonged everything, asking more questions, anything to keep the focus on him. You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment and face your thoughts.
“How long have you been living here?” You asked. The window in his apartment was bigger than yours, facing out at the busy street, as the city woke up and came back to life.
“Almost my entire life. Moved here when I was twelve” He told you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be excited about this anymore, or about anything else. You missed your friends, the familiarity and comfort of them. You missed the diner, and it’s cheap coffee.
“Does it ever get easy?”
He laughed, “Honestly, no. Seoul…is hard to fall in love with, but once you do…you never go back”
You sighed, placing the final piece of the puzzle. You missed your art shop. It had always kept you safe and happy. If you knew it was going to be this hard leaving that behind, you would have thought twice, “I think…some people probably never get used to it. That makes me sad”
“Yeah?” He asked, “But you’re used to it now, aren’t you? You once told me it was written in the stars for you to come here”
“I don’t know if I believe in that anymore”
He relaxed on his couch, “I’m sure things will change. You’ll find something worth staying for”
You shrugged, pushing the puzzle to the side and it fell apart, all the pieces getting jumbled up. He didn’t complain about you ruining your hours worth of hard work. He just watched you grapple with your thoughts. You looked up at him, feeling hollow inside, “I think I made a mistake, Jeongin”
»»————-
Kairi had apparently found the best dessert shop in the city. She had pleaded you for hours until you’d decided to come. There were no seats inside the place, it was so busy, and so you and Kairi sat on a patio table outside. You looked around, as you swirled your hot coffee around. There were no leaves on the trees anymore. Winter had finally come.
“I’m going to bring Chris this when he gets back” She spoke, through a mouthful of brownie, “He doesn’t really have a sweet tooth, but I know he will love this. I once baked the boys this cake for Jisung’s birthday, and Chris said he hated it, but I saw him eat all the leftovers later. He literally stole mine too!” She laughed.
“When he’s back from where?”
“Oh, right. They’re in Japan. They had a flight the morning after my birthday, remember? Well, they’re supposed to show up at an event in Tokyo, and then they come back home for a few days, until they go back again. It’s the end of the season so there’s a bunch of award shows” She told you, sprinkling sugar crystals into her coffee. You didn’t know that they were in an entirely different country, “Must be hard. All the flying back and forth”
She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, “Not really. They’re used to it at this point. It’s tiring, but…in their line of work, they have to learn to adjust”
Maybe that was your biggest flaw. You couldn’t adjust. To a different life, to new friends, to a new bed. To a life without him. 
“I’m sorry if I ruined your birthday”
Her eyes widened, and she kept her cup of coffee down, “What are you talking about? You’re the one that made it perfect. You made it happen in the first place!”
“Yeah, but…” You trailed off, feeling embarrassed, “You must have heard us”
She swallowed, “I didn’t hear anything. It wasn’t my business to.”
You looked up at her, “Chan must hate me”
“What? Why would he?”
You looked down, “I’m…an asshole”
She reached ahead, grabbing your hand, “No one thinks you’re an asshole”
You let out a sigh, and you didn’t believe her, but there was no point arguing. 
The next week, the boys flew back home. You only knew because Kairi told you. She had been counting down the days till they returned. She invited you out to a small get-together, but they would all be there. You said no. 
Slowly, all your plans with Kairi became into plans with Kairi and Chan. You wouldn’t mind at all, because you loved Chan. You just hated that he almost always came with Hyunjin. So you never went to any of those. He would be grateful. He probably never wanted to see you again either. Your time with Kairi became divided. You didn’t blame her. She was in love, and you wouldn’t deny her any time with him. It became obvious how much happier she was around him.
A week later, you realised you still had Hyunjin’s sweater that he’d given to you at the party. So, you washed it and returned it to Kairi, hoping he wasn’t angry that you kept it with you for so long. You’d truthfully forgotten. You wouldn’t want to keep anything of his longer than you had to anyway. 
»»————-
Nate was staring in awe at your painting. It was balanced on the easel, and you stood next to it, embarrassed at the attention it got. Nate laughed in disbelief, “Holy shit. That’s…beautiful. When did you get the time to make that?”
It was show-and-tell day. You were almost in the middle of your semester, and you were supposed to display your best work in class. You looked back at your painting. Ever since Kairi’s birthday, you hadn’t left your room. You’d been fixated on this. There was only one good thing left for you here, and it was this opportunity. You’d do anything to grasp at it, and maybe all your sadness and heartbreak had ended up being perfect inspiration. You had been endlessly inspired, each brushstroke came to you so easily. Perhaps all good art did come from suffering. Your best work to date you’d done when feeling your worst. You’d sniffled, and cried and fought your way through it.
“I…found time” You shrugged. Your hands were folded behind your back as you explained it to every single person who passed it. All the easels were set up in a circle, and it was almost like those expensive Château classes you could never afford to go to. Nate smiled at you, tilting his head, “You’re so mysterious. It suits you”
“I’m really not trying to be” You replied, “It just…came to me”
His eyes trailed over you. You’d tried to dress your best, an outfit you’d bought off the fancy boutiques, and it had cost you a fortune but none of your own clothes would fit the vibe. Nate’s voice dropped, “Is it weird if I say that you being coy is a turn-on?” 
You smiled at him, wondering why his words had no effect on you. He made you feel wanted. He flirted with you endlessly. He was attracted to you. He actually wanted to talk to you. 
But you knew that was all. He didn’t want to date you. He certainly didn’t have any intentions of a relationship. Perhaps, you didn’t want to just be wanted anymore. 
“Mmh. It’s…a little weird” You teased him.
Kim Jieong approached you, and you straightened up, pulling Nate to the side. He glanced at your painting, and he certainly looked impressed. There was a small smile on his lips, and he was observing your art with all the focus in the world, “How many hours did you spend on this?”
“Maybe…twenty”
He laughed at your feeble attempt of lying, “That looks like…it took a hundred, at the least. Is it all you did this week?”
You nodded, “That’s what I’m here for”
He looked at your painting again, “As your professor, I have to say that I wish you hadn’t sacrificed sleep for this, but…” He leaned in closer, voice dropping, “This is exactly why I picked you, sweetheart”
Your eyes widened, not used to this proximity, but you felt so special. He hadn’t said this to anybody else. He was far too close to you, but you blinked at him, “Are you proud of me?”
He laughed, lifting a finger up, “You’re not there yet”
Your face fell.
“I’ll be proud of you if you can get that done in a day” He smiled wide, hands clasped behind his back, “You should start preparing for next week. I want you to make something special. If you win, it’d mean a lot for you, Y/N”
You nodded, remembering the assignment. The best painting in the class would be chosen for a prize. A scholarship, and the chance to get your work displayed in Seoul Museum of Art. It would certainly make everything much easier, taking the burden off you, and you’d also get a perfect start. You would finally be able to prove your worth here.
»»————-
You’d been painting all day, and your clothes were ruined with stains. You were working on the assignment for next week, it had to be perfect to win, and you hadn't got much sleep, completely immersing yourself into this. In a little break, you laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the call to go through. Yeonjun picked up your phone call, and he sounded so happy on the other end. It had been a while since you’d talked to him and he apologised, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work. There was a company retreat last week, and we went out to these cabins in the woods. It was straight from a horror movie, and there was no network there. I took some pictures for you though”
“How did it go? That sounds nice, to be away from everything”
He laughed, “It was. I missed you though. But…I have some news to tell you…something happened”
“Yeah?”
“Remember the girl from my work I said was cute? She…kissed me. We actually, ended up making out in the hot tub. It was really fucking nice” You could imagine him smiling on the other end, and it warmed your heart. You sat up, smiling, “Are you serious? That’s so…amazing. So…you guys made out? Is that all that happened?”
He laughed on the other end, “No. We…slept together. Every night of the retreat”
Your eyes widened, “You’re kidding me. So, you really really like this girl”
“I mean, yeah, things with her are so…simple and easy. She gets me, and she’s so fun to be around. Sometimes that’s just how it has to be”
You thought of the polaroids on his desk of Hana, “Did she never ask about the pictures on your work desk?”
Yeonjun laughed nervously, “I…ended up taking those down. It’s easier to move on that way. I mean, I won’t ever be over her, but…it’s a start”
“Yeah. You’re probably right”
“I may have discovered a new kink about myself” He joked, “I have an urge to just move to that cabin and live in that hot tub forever”
You smiled, “Maybe you should”
“How about you though?”
“Well…I’ve been trying to make my magnum opus. If I have the best painting in class, I get to win this insane amount of money for a scholarship, and…it’ll be perfect”
“Well, you’re obviously going to win. I already know you’re the best in class”
You smiled, “I appreciate your faith in me…I think I’m going to start working on it in the classroom. It’s going to be a really big canvas, and there’s not much space in my apartment”
“That makes sense. And um, I wanted to ask, how are things with…Hyunjin? Did you guys ever talk after you saw him in the shop?”
You lay back down, and the lie was on easy on your tongue, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since then”
“Wow. He…hasn’t even reached out to you?”
You shrugged, echoing his words from before, “I don’t care. It’s easier to move on that way”
»»————-
Your canvas lay across multiple tables, occupying most of the space in your classroom. You’d joined them all together, it had taken a lot of strength, but it was worth it. Now, you sat on top of the paper cross-legged in the center. It was easier to work this way, as if the entire floor was your painting. You hope you weren’t breaking any rules by being in the classroom after hours. You’d just wanted some time to work on your painting, and you weren’t exactly inspired at your place. Your anger from the past few days had manifested into this; an insane obsession to make this your best work ever. You would prefer that over sadness. This, after all, was the only reason you’d come here. Not for him. It was almost midnight, and you scooted across the canvas, filling in more details of your sketch. Your plan was far too ambitious, but you were going to have to go all out to win the contest. It was the only thing you cared about right now.
“I didn’t know anybody was in here” The voice made you jump. Nobody was supposed to come in here right now, the building was shut down. You glanced up, watching Kim Jieong walk in, and you smiled at him, “Professor. Hi”
His eyes narrowed in on your silhouette, and a familiar smile across his face, “Oh, it’s you. What…in god’s name are you doing on top of the tables?”
“Um, my canvas is pretty big, so I thought it’d be easier to work like this” You explained. He laughed loudly, “You’re adorable, Y/N. You know that?”
You sat back down comfortably, realising he would let you stay here, “Um. Thank you, professor”
He looked around, “Oh, please don’t let me interrupt you. Why is it so dark in here though? I can hardly see you"
Adjusting your canvas and brushes around it, you spoke, “I like it that way. I think much better in the dark, the lights were too bright. Plus, the moonlight looks really nice”
You think he smiled at your words but you couldn’t tell in the dark. You could barely see him, just his silhouette and you heard him laugh. You heard his footsteps as he approached his own desk, “So, we’re far from the final project. I’m curious why you’re in the studio”
You bit your lip, feeling anxious about all this effort you were putting in, “I’m working on the contest painting. The scholarship…I really want to try my best. I also don’t work too well at my apartment, I thought maybe I could work here”
“When I got a notification that a student was still in the studio, I was curious. I had to cut my dinner short”
“Oh” You blinked, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it notified you…”
“Of course, it’s for the safety of our students” He smiled, stepping towards your workspace, “Would you indulge me in what you’re working on…or is it a surprise?��
Your canvas wasn’t ready to show, “I’d prefer if you see it when it’s finished”
He laughed, and asked, “May I sit next to you?”
“Oh, you won’t be getting back to your dinner?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, I’d like to stay here with you”
He was perhaps the only person in the world you wanted to be around right now, so you didn’t mind. His presence would calm and comfort you, “Of course. That’d be fine with me, professor”
He pulled a stool up close to your workspace. The greenhouse-studio was deathly quiet and he inched closer to your table. You stared at your big sketch, “I’m really sorry about interrupting your dinner. I thought it’d be fine if I let myself in”
“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. My wife was pretty tired anyway. Just gave us a reason to end the night early”
He was at dinner with his wife? You didn’t even know he was married, but he was in his late thirties so it made sense. You continued adding details, but you couldn’t focus when he was observing you so close. Thankfully the dark could conceal your expressions and embarrassment. You ought to feel proud. The greatest artist in the country was here to watch you paint.
“Have you…eaten dinner yet?” You heard him ask. You glanced up, gesturing to the side of the classroom where your leftovers lay, “Yeah, I had some chinese takeout. Although when I’m painting, I don’t get hungry for hours.”
He just hummed in response. You were grateful that your mentor wanted to sit with you so badly that he skipped dinner with his wife. But the other part disliked the supervision, and you did want some alone time. Still, he was the greatest living artist, so you’d learn to adjust to it. After everything that had happened, he was also your only hope of making it big in the city. He was the sole reason you were still here, spending thousands just to stay in Seoul so you could attend the classes. You looked at him, and he was admiring you while you worked, so you said, “I might be here all night. I wouldn’t want to keep you"
He frowned, “I don’t mind staying. I could get some work done too”
“Oh…sure” You looked back at your sketch, erasing off a mistake. He stood up, walking towards the cabinet, sifting through canvases. Usually, you weren’t awkward around him, but right now it was really late and you were tired to make small talk. But it’d be weirder if you just stayed quiet. You felt a need to fill in the silence with anything, “So, Professor, um…your wife. How did you meet her?”
He shrugged in your peripheral vision, not particularly excited to answer, “The usual. We were high school sweethearts. Got married as soon as we graduated. I was too focused on my art to pursue other women anyway”
You nodded. Well, that made it even more awkward. So you kept going, “Right. Wow. High school, that’s really cool. Was she…any of the inspirations for your paintings?”
“Some of them, yes”
“That’s really nice.” You smiled, sketching out the boundaries for the stars. The idea for this painting had come to you after waking from a dreamless sleep. You’d ended up researching for it for hours, making sure you were portraying accurate art. You couldn’t wait to present your concept next week.
“What about you?” He asked.
“Sorry?” 
“You have a boyfriend?”
You blinked, a nervous laugh escaping you, “Um…not currently. I’m also…I guess, trying to focus on my art, and build a career from it”
He smiled at you, crossing his arms, “Guess we’re more alike than I thought”
You looked back at your canvas as he walked closer to you, “The temptation to understand your sketch is a lot. Can you give me a hint as to what it’s about?”
You slid your sketchbook towards him, where you’d drawn up a miniature version of the sketch, “All I can tell you now is that it’s…a landscape, inspired by my time in the city so far. I was walking home the other night and I couldn’t help but notice the night sky. I’ve always liked it, and I know it’s been overdone in art, but I wanted to explore a new side of it. Someone once told me that there’s no stars in the city, which just…sounds so sad. I was thinking along the lines of that. What do you think so far?”
He pushed his glasses up, a proud smile on his face, “I think that…I’m incredibly lucky to have you. I can't wait to see what you'll do with this”
Your eyes widened, unsure how to respond, “Um…I mean, we’re the lucky ones. We get to study under you, Professor”
He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty studio, “Stop calling me Professor. I think you and me are way past that, don’t you?”
“It’s…only appropriate.” You frowned, going back to work. That was weird. You don't think you would feel comfortable calling him by his first name. And then, you felt another stupid need to fill in the prolonged silence. He was here watching you after all, you could just ask him all the things you’d wondered for years, “Um, I wanted to ask. The painting about the moons. Celestial Fatality. Did you paint that when you were in college?”
He hummed mindlessly, not really answering your question, then he grabbed your sketchbook off the table. Eyebrows furrowed, he stared at it, "I think you can work on your perspective, but these are nice. These hands. You’ve drawn them countless times”
“Yeah” You felt embarrassed, and climbed off the table so you could also see what he was looking at, “It’s a friend from back home”
“Did you draw these from observation?” He asked, as you joined him at his side.
“Hmm. He really wanted me to draw his hands,” You said, recalling the time Hyunjin made you observe them.
Kim Jieong laughed, “Can’t blame him”
A nervous laugh escaped you at those words, “Yeah.” What did he mean by that? You reached to get your sketchbook back. Instead of handing it to you though, he sat down on the desk, turning the pages of your book, “These ones are pretty good too”
“Yeah” You nodded, taking a seat next to him, unsure of what to do, “I made those a while ago”
As he turned another page, something drifted out, landing on the floor. Your eyes widened, and you reached for it. The photobooth strip pictures of you and Hyunjin. You felt embarrassed, but thankfully, Kim Jieong didn’t notice or see them fall out. You grabbed them, hiding them between your palms on your lap. There was nothing wrong with him seeing them, but…it was embarrassing and stupid to carry around pictures of a boy who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 
“You’re very talented” Kim Jieong spoke again, voice dropping low.
“Oh…thank you. It means a lot hearing it from someone like you” 
He finally put your sketchbook to the side, looking right at you. He did look kind of intimidating in this light, towering over you, “This scholarship means a lot to you?”
You swallowed, feeling embarrassed, “Yeah. I could use the help. It’s an expensive life here, and I’d really appreciate it. Plus, the exhibition would be a great kickstart to…a career”
“The others don’t need the scholarship. They just want it so they can win” He said, then leaned forward, “Don’t the rich kids get on your nerves sometimes? They don’t act out of necessity, but you…” He pointed a soiled paintbrush at you, “You’re wonderful because… you’re desperate”
“I’m sorry?”
“Desperate to be seen, and respected. As an artist, I mean. I don’t mean that badly, but all great inventions are born out of necessity. I think that’s why you stand out from the rest”
You didn’t know how to take this compliment, “I guess”
“You know you have the potential to go so many places?” He asked, tilting his head, waving your sketchbook about in one hand. It was so dark in here, and the building was completely empty except for the two of you. This…felt increasingly inappropriate. You were in the studio after-hours with your professor and he was far too close for comfort. He was your favourite artist…but he was still a grown man and you didn’t want to overstep as a student.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged and stepped closer to you, caging you against the table, “I mean, the right people can get you into any exhibition you dream of in the world. Paris, New York, Seoul. Isn’t that what you fantasise?”
An awkward chuckle escaped you. He was far too close to you, “Yeah. That’s the end goal. The scholarship…would definitely make it easier to get there”
Suddenly, the sound of roaring thunder distracted you and you looked to the windows. The clouds had now hidden the moon, casting a dark shadow over the entire art studio. A chill ran up your spine, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable at his proximity.
“Um..I think the last bus home leaves in twenty minutes. I’ll try to catch it” You stated, shooting him a smile and standing up.
You took your bag, but Kim Jieong grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him, “You can always convince me”
“Sorry?” You fumbled, stupidly. You…had to have heard him wrong. What was he talking about?
He smiled sweetly, and in the dark, his glasses glittered, “If you won the scholarship, the other students wouldn’t question it, you’ve already proven your worth to everyone”
“Right” You were unsure what he was trying to say, or hinting at. What the fuck did he mean by saying that you could convince him? “I should really go”
“It’s pouring. You’ll catch your death out there, Y/N” He stated, pointing to the storm outside. You swallowed, his grip on your arm foreign, “That’s fine. I have an umbrella”
“Ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride home” He shook his head.
“You really don’t have to. I already feel bad for ruining your dinner”
“Oh, stop apologising, Y/N. Your sweet talk drives me mad sometimes” His hand moved from your arm to your waist, wrapping around it and he pulled you closer to his body, "You stress too much. You need to learn to let things go”
You took a step back, unsure how to process this, “Professor…”
He closed the distance, and his other hand grabbed your chin, voice low in the dark room, “Why do you seem so nervous? You don’t have to be around me. We’re just talking, aren’t we?”
“Right” You were having a hard time breathing, panic surging through you. He was right. Of course. He was your professor. He would never hurt you or make you uncomfortable. He was a living legend. You shouldn’t be nervous. He was just being kind to you. He was the only person you’d looked up to your entire life, the reason you’d tried so hard to come here, and he would never do something wrong.
“I can see you struggling in class, and I know you’re doing everything you can to prove your worth. I’ve asked you this before, about what your dream is. ” He spoke, voice as low as a whisper, fingers gripping your jaw. 
“I…I don’t know what you mean” Your voice was shaking from the nerves, with no fucking idea how to navigate this situation. If you pushed him away, you’d lose all chance of winning the prize.
“Well….whatever it is” He smiled sweetly, and in the low light he looked less like the mentor you’d grown up loving and more menacing, “All you have to do…is ask me”
His eyes flickered to your lips, and back to your eyes. His grip on your waist was so tight, it felt like his palm was burning into your skin through your shirt. Had you somehow given him an alluded hint? He took a step even closer.
“I’m sorry….” You pushed him just enough so he wasn’t holding you anymore.
He looked surprised, eyes wide, and he laughed, “Y/N…What are you doing?” You grabbed your bag in a hurry, “I’m sorry. I should really go. The last bus…”
He called after you, but you rushed through the glass doors to the emergency stairwell. You didn’t want to be stuck in the elevator with him. You couldn’t breathe, legs moving off their own accord. A flash of lightning through the glass windows scared you, and you all but ran down the emergency stairwell, bag hanging off your shoulder, fists clenched. What the fuck. He obviously wasn’t making a move on you, right? You were just being paranoid. He was your professor. He was…the most famous artist in Seoul. He was the kindest person ever. You had to have been reading into things. 
You pushed the heavy door open, walking out onto the street. It was pouring rain, and you let out a breath, taking in the air. The rain soaked through your clothes, and you were shivering. You wanted to call Hyunjin so he could pick you up and so you could cry in his arms, the only place where you'd feel safe, but he'd never even given you his new number. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. You looked down at your hands, and in your tension…you’d completely crushed the photobooth strip to pieces. 
Raindrops slowly trickled down, tracing the ruined paper in your palm. The only memory left of you and Hyunjin was now gone.
»»————-
You didn’t show up to class the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.
You were still trying to wrap your head around it. Were you stupid for declining his advances and whatever he was suggesting? You couldn’t go back to class and face him. You’d be too embarrassed of your reaction. Maybe he wasn’t even suggesting anything and you jumped to conclusions. You had to have been imagining things. After all, he didn't actually do anything. Still, you’d ruined all your chances of getting the scholarship and succeeding in his class. What if he brought it up in class? What would the others think?
Your body was shaking from the cold. The heating in your apartment wasn’t working, so you sat on the floor, back to the kitchen counter, knees pulled up. You’d forgotten your huge canvas in class too, and it was probably in the garbage by now.
Your phone buzzed loudly, and Felix was calling. You picked up so he wouldn’t worry, but your voice sounded hollow, “Yes?”
“Babe. Where have you been? You’re not answering any texts the past week”
“I’m sorry…I got caught up in things. Is everything okay, Felix?”
“More than okay” He smiled on the other end, “I’m at the diner. They’re throwing a big party tonight! Apparently, it’s been ten years since it opened! Can you believe it?”
“Wow…it feels like we’d been going there our whole life”
“That’s what I said!” His excited voice came in, “So anyway for their anniversary celebration…all the drinks and food is free. You best believe I’m making full use of it”
You could hear so many familiar voices in the back, “Who all is there…?”
“Umm…well me and Minho, obviously. Hana’s here too. Seonmi, Eunbi and the others. Seungmin’s here as well.”
“Wow…I really wish I was there, Felix”
“Mm, I wish that too. Your apprenticeship better be worth it, Y/N. You’re missing all the good stuff. And everybody in Daejon misses you a lot. Mrs. Aera came up to me today and said the shop’s a mess without you haha”
“Really? It is? Mina isn’t taking care of it?”
“Ah, you know how Mina is. She can’t organise for the life of her. That shop was basically running because of you” He laughed, and you could hear him chew something.
“What are you eating?”
“Blueberry-chocolate waffles. There’s this new recipe Seonmi is trying out, and it’s so good. You should have it when you come back. How about you, love? Are you missing me a lot?”
“So much” You mumbled.
“Kim Jieong better be worth it” He sighed, “I guess I forgive you because you’ve been obsessed with him for years. Is he as dreamy as you imagined?”
“Um…” Your gut hurt, the memory of that night flooding through you, “Yeah. He’s…great”
“I’m sure he is” Felix chuckled, “I still remember how you stole all the magazines in the library that had his paintings in it”
“I didn’t steal them” You protested, “I just…borrowed them for a really long time”
He laughed, “To fawn all over your artist crush. I get it. And…what about your other lover? You accidentally bumped into him yet?”
You forced a smile, not having enough energy to protest that he wasn’t your lover, “No…I haven’t seen him”
“Well. Seoul isn’t that big, I’m sure you’ll find him. Or he’ll find you. Oh, I also forgot to tell you! A new cafe opened up in Daejon last week. It’s some fusion book-and-coffee cafe. They actually have the best coffee in town, no you didn’t hear me say that Seonmi” He started laughing, and you could hear them in the background. Suddenly, the past few months felt like a joke.
There were only two reasons you’d uprooted your life and come here. Now, you’d lost them both. 
So why were you still here?
Maybe you had acted rashly. You thought you’d fit in here, and that this was where you were meant to be. You’d felt stuck there, but here you weren’t any better. You'd probably only found the courage to come here because you knew Hyunjin was here too, and that was clearly...not the right thing to do. He didn't even want you near him, or anywhere in his life. He had made that plenty clear.
“I think I made a mistake” You whispered.
“Sorry?” Felix asked, still laughing loudly, “What mistake?”
“Moving out…I shouldn’t have done that”
“Wait…what? What do you mean?”
“I think I should come home”
“You’re messing with me. Right?” Felix laughed, “Didn’t you want to move to the city since you were fifteen?”
“But I was a kid. I didn’t know anything. I had no idea what to expect”
“Y/N…what are you saying?”
“I was happy in Daejon. I should never have come to Seoul” You stood up, moving to your bedroom.
It was like a parasite, an idea festering into your brain and heart, that maybe this was the reason for this unhappiness. Things were perfect in Daejon. Why had you been complaining all your life? All of your happy memories were there, so the logical thing to do…was go back to where they were created. Then you’d be happy again. You hadn’t learnt how to be happy in this house, in this city, in this new life. 
“Babe. I would be the happiest boy in the world if you came home to me, but maybe you should think this through. Did something happen? Why are you being like this?”
You grabbed your duffel bag off the shelf, “I can’t go back to class, Felix! I can’t. I messed up, big time”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t. You could never—”
“You don’t even know what happened!” You yelled. He fell silent on the other end, “Love. Just…what’s going on?”
You stared at your empty bag, “I’m…coming home. I should never have come here”
“Is that Y/N?” Minho’s familiar, comforting voice came in. You wanted to hug him and never let go. They were so far away. “Yeah” Felix responded to him, voice falling, “She says she’s…coming home”
“Give me the phone” Minho mumbled, “Y/N. What’s going on?”
You tossed your clothes in your bag, messily zipping it up, “I can’t stay here, Min”
“But what about the art classes?”
“If I don’t withdraw, I’ll probably be kicked out anyway” You mumbled, “I didn’t go to classes all week"
“You should think this through”
“I have thought it through! It was a stupid fucking mistake. One I needed to make. You know what they say anyway. The grass is greener on the other side. I just fell for the charms of the city, like everybody else”
“No disrespect but you’re making no sense” Minho’s voice was harsh, “You can’t just give up”
“Can you give the phone back to Felix please?” You asked.
“Fine” You heard it being passed around and then his voice came in, “Love. I’m here”
“Lix” You swallowed, “I know it seems like I’m being irrational, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I know it’s embarrassing and stupid, but maybe I was never supposed to be here”
Felix’s voice was so soft, calm, encouraging. You just needed to be near him, in his arms. “I believe you, Y/N. I’m gonna be okay with whatever you decide. I just really want you to think about this”
“I…I want to hug you, Lix” A sniffle escaped you, “I don’t want to go back to class” The idea had completely taken over you.
“Are you sure?”
“Nothing can make me stay” You swallowed. There was a sigh of resignation on the other end, and you knew he wouldn’t fight with you. He would agree with whatever you decided, and that’s what you needed right now. That’s why you called him, and not Yeonjun, or your other friends. Felix was the one person who wanted you home more than anything. He wouldn’t talk you out of it, even if this seemed like the stupidest decision you might be making. 
“What do you need me to do?” He asked, voice soft on the other end. Relief spread through you, and you stopped to look at the window outside your apartment, “A train ticket.”
You could sublease your apartment. You could figure the rest out from the comfort of your real home. You could go back to Aera’s, and get your life in order. You’d find a way to love Felix back. After all, he was the only one who wanted you the way you needed to be wanted. Maybe you were destined for that kind of life after all, where everything stays the same everyday. But that’s good, it was safe. The boy you loved had made you think that you belonged in the city, but he couldn't be more wrong.
That’s what you told yourself, at least, ripping your paintings off the wall. In your short-lived time here, you’d made and put them up to feel less lonely. There’d be no room to carry them back, so you bunched them up, carrying them to the garbage disposal in your apartment. As you shoved them in the disposal, you felt nothing. The hallway was warmer than your apartment and it made you feel a tad better.
Your phone buzzed again, and Felix had sent you something. The train ticket he’d bought for you. It was for tomorrow morning. You knew that you could always trust Felix, with anything. He would always be there for you, if nothing else. Perhaps you'd taken your friendship with him for granted this whole time.
“Need some help?” Jeongin asked. He was coming up the stairs, probably after having heard your struggle with the garbage. You shot him a smile, nodding. He came over, helping you, “Are you redecorating?”
“You could say that…”
“Wait. Are these your paintings?” He realised, stopping halfway.
“Can you help me with something?” You looked at him. He looked confused, and he was frowning, “Um. Sure. What do you need help with?”
“My suitcases…I don’t think the elevator is working”
“Are you going somewhere?” He tilt his head, further confusion scrunching his face. In another life, you and Jeongin could have been really good friends. 
“I’m just going home for a while” You mumbled, shutting the garbage door. For a while would be forever. He didn’t need to know that. It’s not like he would be sad, or miss your presence. 
“Oh. Okay. Of course, I’ll be there in a bit”
Back in your apartment, your phone buzzed again. It was your groupchat with Jeonghan and Minnie. You skimmed through the messages, feeling regretful.
yn are you sick? what’s going on? professor jieong told us you weren’t eligible for the prize anymore
You turned your phone off, staring outside the little kitchen window. The traffic wasn’t as loud as usual. It was a quiet night.
You hugged yourself, trying to find a singular reason to stay. Why had you wanted this life for so long? It had given you nothing but heartbreak, yet a part of you was so sad about leaving tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes shut, a single tear escaping. Maybe you wanted a sign to stay, despite everything in you screaming to leave. When you opened you eyes, your reflection mirrored on the glass pane and then you saw it.
A snowflake drifting down. It twirled in place and your eyes followed its path before it settled on your ledge, quickly crumbling into nothingness.
And then more followed, a flurry of snow falling like stardust. It was beautiful, a cloud of white enveloping everything so quickly, covering the street below. 
Your first snow in the city. 
A bitter smile tugged at your lips. 
The doorbell rang.
Jeongin was already here to help you with the bags. 
So much for a sign.
You grabbed your duffel, and your suitcase, wheeling it out. The quicker you moved with things, the easier it would be. Reaching for the rusty brass doorknob, you pulled the door open.
“Can you take this one? I’ll bring the other” You mumbled, pushing your things out. He nodded, still seemingly confused but he asked no questions, “What time’s your train?”
“In a few hours” You glanced at your phone, “But if there’s going to be a snowstorm, I’d prefer being at the station early…”
He grinned, still so happy and you wish he could share his secrets of eternal happiness, “Smart move. If it was me, I’d probably miss my train. Can’t tell you how many times that’s happened”
You smiled at him, “I can’t afford that”
“I called a taxi cab for you” He said. You nodded, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Thank you, Jeongin”
You stepped back into your apartment. There wasn’t much you’d brought with you, so there wasn’t much you had to take back. You’d never grown fond of this apartment. It had always felt like an inbetween place, while you waited your life to be perfect. Waiting was doing no favours for you.
You shoved your sketchbook into your duffel, putting on your coat before closing the apartment door behind you, and your throat closed up as you realised what you were doing. This was so fucking stupid, and this was rash but what else could you even do? Maybe you could come back to the city in the future if you wanted, but right now it was a terrible decision. You would go back home and you would hug Felix, and maybe you would kiss him and the ache in your heart would be better. The thought of his arms around you, as someone who genuinely cared about you, already made you want to cry.
You unceremoniously dragged your bag across the landing, and the taxi must have arrived already because you heard a loud honk.
It was freezing in the otherwise heated hallway. Your breaths came out in soft mists.
The door downstairs must have been left open, sending cold winds and flurries of snowflakes up the apartment. 
Jeongin would never forget to do that…
As you approached the top step with your bags, you realised who’d left it open.
Draped in a beige trench coat, cheeks red from the cold, Hyunjin stood at the bottom of your staircase.
»»————-
masterlist ⇒
please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 
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dreamlovetarot · 9 months
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☁️「𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑」🏹
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left to right: pile 1, pile 2, pile 3
Welcome, 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟,
as we embark upon a journey through the veils of time. In this celestial reading, we shall unveil the whispers of what your destined beloved shall hold most dear in you. Embrace this ethereal dance with an open heart, and may the stars above sprinkle their magic upon your path.
𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑚 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠, 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠,
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝒆𝒇𝒇𝒚 ⁓
Enchanting Disclaimer: Let it be known that Tarot's realm, found within these pages, is one of whimsical entertainment. What transpires is my personal interpretation, a delicate thread weaving through the cards' tapestry. Each portrayal, though bathed in speculation, seeks to capture your imagination. As you tread the starlit path of this reading, the harmony between your heart's song and its melodies shall guide you. Tarot's allure, an ethereal waltz, rests upon the tendrils of choice, where your intuition casts its own spell.
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꒰ 🪼 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 01
The cards of your destiny: 7 of cups, child: orphan, the sentinel, the twins
Within the realm of your being, an enchanting tapestry unfolds. Your future spouse is drawn to the radiance of your imaginative spirit, finding allure in the way you perceive the world. Your ability to discern opportunity in even the most intricate patterns of life, and your unwavering understanding of choice, create a symphony of admiration.
Your essence weaves dreams into reality, infusing purpose into each step you take. There's a delicate magic in your willingness to dream without restraint, to paint your life with the hues of possibility. This mystical aura you carry isn't tinged with negativity, but rather a sparkling optimism that kindles fascination.
Yet, beyond the ephemeral, your independence shines like a distant star, guiding you to gather knowledge on your own terms. You're a self-sufficient learner, a wanderer across the cosmos of wisdom, and your partner cherishes this self-reliance.
In your stride, your beloved sees a warrior spirit. Your unwavering faith in yourself and your capacity to conquer any challenge bestows you with an aura of courage and resolve. This inner certainty sets you on a path of endless possibilities, a journey your partner deeply admires.
The Twins card whispers of your multi-dimensional nature. You're a puzzle with pieces that delightfully don't always fit together. Your unpredictability paints your journey with intrigue, offering a constant sense of discovery to your partner's heart.
This fusion of dreaminess and autonomy creates a unique alchemy. You master the art of emotional balance, a dance between grounding and flight. Your independence is the armor that shields you, and your dreams are the wings that let you soar.
In this cosmic dance, you embody a spectrum of hues, and your beloved admires everything about your essence, encompassing green, beige, and even the occasional red flag. You are an enigma with layers that continue to captivate. As you navigate your journey, remember the charm that emanates from your fusion of dreams and self-reliance, as it is casting a spell that keeps your partner forever captivated.
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꒰ 🪼 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 02
The cards of your destiny: the moon, angel, the aspirant, the runaway
In the tapestry of your future, your beloved finds fascination in your intuitive nature and your profound self-awareness. Your thoughts, akin to twinkling stars, intrigue their curiosity. They are drawn to your emotional transparency, where you fearlessly share your worries and anxieties, offering a glimpse into the depths of your soul.
What truly enchants your future partner is your selflessness, a trait that shines with a brilliance of its own. Your willingness to extend your help without seeking anything in return casts a radiant glow upon your being. You embody a magical essence that radiates empathy and compassion, pulling them into your orbit.
But you're more than an angelic presence; you're a dreamer with aspirations that stretch toward the cosmos. Your ambition and tenacity in pursuing your dreams are evident. Even in the face of challenges, you approach them with open dialogue and a spirit that marches forward undeterred.
The Runaway card, cloaked in mystery, adds a layer of intrigue to your essence. While you're resolute in facing difficulties, there's also a yearning for personal freedom. Your desire to keep certain parts of yourself hidden imparts an air of enigma. This doesn't hinder your ability to connect; rather, it adds a layer of complexity that draws others in.
In your journey, you may momentarily retreat from challenges, but your determination never wavers. Your reliability shines through, especially in supporting others through their tribulations. Your partner is captivated by the unique harmony you embody, a symphony of strength, compassion, and an alluring aura that casts a spell upon their heart
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꒰ 🪼 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚𝑃𝑖𝑙𝑒 03
The cards of your destiny: ace of wands, warrior, the heir, the enchanter
Within the enchanting dance of your destined union, your future partner is captivated by the radiant bloom of your creativity. You are a wellspring of inspiration, a vessel brimming with untold possibilities. Like a star yearning to blaze brighter, you embrace growth and new horizons, ensuring that every moment shared is a tapestry of exploration.
In your presence, the strength of galaxies twinkles. Your spouse admires your unwavering fortitude and adeptness, where discipline and unyielding determination harmonize effortlessly. An aura of power surrounds you, untainted by the trappings of ego, allowing you to navigate both your internal landscape and external connections with an elegant grace.
Your self-awareness casts a gentle glow, illuminating both your strengths and vulnerabilities. The Heir card alludes to concealed potential, a treasure trove of abilities awaiting discovery even by you. This interplay between modesty and untapped gifts weaves an enchanting allure that draws your partner closer.
Occasionally, hesitation may cast its delicate shadow upon you. Doubts may cloud your perception of your talents, questioning whether you truly measure up or possess the necessary capability. This humility, coupled with a touch of uncertainty, forms an irresistible magnetism that pulls your partner into your orbit.
In your essence resides the art of transformation, a symphony of alchemy. Your mastery lies in transmuting the mundane into the extraordinary, crafting new dimensions from the threads of everyday life. This isn't manipulation in the conventional sense, but a kind of enchantment that breathes fresh life into situations, relationships, and your artistic pursuits.
Be it as a designer, an artist, or a weaver of light, your innate talent to manipulate and shape scenes entrances your future partner. They're captivated by your ability to reshape perspectives, inviting others to see the world anew through your unique vision.
In their eyes, you shine like constellations in the velvet sky, a mosaic of brilliance. Your creativity, your potential, and your artistic flair are celebrated and cherished. They stand as your most ardent supporter, unwavering in their belief in you. In their gaze, your essence swirls like stardust, a mesmerizing fusion of potential and artistic magic.
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© dreamlovetarot 2023 — where every right is held in delicate embrace 🤍 I kindly ask you not to appropriate, replicate, alter, or disseminate my ethereal content.
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slowlymyavenue · 2 months
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THE BIMBO BOUNCE
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As the title suggests, this will be a bit of a departure from my usual fare.
I am, as always, very interested in feedback on this piece (and any other.)
Alliteration is a useful hypnotic tool. It gives sentences a bit of extra potency, makes mantras easier to remember, and improves the lifespan of a suggestion pretty considerably. That's the operating theory, anyway. Shall we explore?
Bounce for me; that's simple enough to start things off.
Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.
The phrase sticks, somehow, even though it sounds a little silly. Something seems to make it linger in your head. It has a unique feel to it, a quality you can't quite put your finger on. The syllables seem to echo: bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.
But how does a bubbly brain behave? Like a bubble, as you'd expect, with something creating a volume of empty space inside while thoughts slide smoothly across the expanding surface, oily and slick. At first, it feels like your thoughts have more area across which to spread. Your thoughts shift slightly, glistening and growing ever more thin. At least, until the bubble pops.
Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.
Bubbly brains are bound to burst.
And burst it must. Bubbles are ephemeral entities, aren't they? It's alright; you'll scarcely notice. When the bubble pops, your thoughts that are currently floating on the surface will splash to the floor. The empty space inside will rush rapidly outward, turning you into a bit of an airhead. Seems fitting, doesn't it?
Bursting bubbly brains blow pink
Bounce, and pop.
You'll feel the splash like a sudden surge of lust and arousal coursing through your body. The rush of air inside your head might cause you to get light-headed, so you'll spread your legs to steady yourself. Of course that's what you're doing, isn't it? Steadying yourself, not putting yourself on display. Right.
Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly.
Bubbly brains are bound to burst.
Burst bubbly brains blew pink
Bimbos brainlessly bounce.
As you begin to bounce to a silent rhythm, it occurs to you that some bubbles have a kaleidoscopic sheen when you look at them, but others have a very solid color within. Your brain-bubble was bubblegum pink, now that you think about it.
Well, as much as you can presently think about anything. That pop did more than just fill your head with empty air. You can feel your intelligence leaking into the space around you, escaping...your absent brain can't contain it any longer.
Bimbos bounce their brains away.
If your brain was still intact, you might think to stop bouncing so you'd be better able to think. But your brain exploded in a flash of pink and wet, and now you're as blank as a bouncing bimbo should be. You're able to understand my words out of some remnant of intuition, but if you pause to try and think them through, everything just goes pink and pops again.
Blank bimbos bounce brainlessly
That seems sensible enough, especially since bouncing feels pretty good. The splash of wet pink thoughts from the pop made your body more sensitive, perhaps by providing you with better things on which to focus. You certainly feel blank, and you are bouncing. Are you a bimbo, though?
Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos
A side effect of the bubbly brain from before is that you're finding all of this pretty amusing. Certain bits of sentences make you want to giggle and smile, even when you can barely understand them. Might've let too much of your intelligence leak away, but it's all just so silly, isn't it?
Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce
If you were a bimbo, would you be able to tell? Would you find the situation you're in far more amusing than you should? Would your body be becoming progressively more sensitive as your empty head adjusts to having no thoughts to contain and feeds all that focus to your hungry nerves? Would the bouncing be this arousing all by itself?
That depends primarily on what sort of bimbo you've become, but the answer should be clear by now. Each bounce produces a wave of pleasure, each wave pushes more of the remnants of your brains into the air. The less brains left in your head, the more you smile and giggle. The giggles produce flashes of pink that remind you how very silly and simple this is. All you did was bounce.
Bouncing blank bubbly bimbos are brainwashed
Bounces can take all sorts of forms. You can bounce bits of your body with your hands, bounce up and down in a chair, bounce with the aid of the springs below the bed...all to the same end. Everything is turning pink and wet and silly for you.
This leaves you with only two options: You could let yourself settle, riding the high of the blank bubbly brainwashed bimbo until your brain somewhat reluctantly returns to your head. I won't stop you, you'd simply wake after a few minutes of coming back down.
Or the blank bouncing brainwashed bimbo could shift the energy from bouncing just a little and satisfy that lust your body is feeling. The only real hazard is that your head is already full of air, and cumming your brains out when they've already mostly evaporated could leave you pretty dumb before it's all said and done.
But you've already made a choice, or it's already been made for you. My words could be passing by almost invisibly as the bouncing subsides, or you may already be excitedly picking a toy to bounce on or a rhythm to use while you stroke yourself senseless.
Either way, everything will fade into a yummy pink haze before much longer. I wonder how much bimbo brain you'd need to bounce away before the condition became a bit stuck...
Bouncing your body makes your brain bubbly
Bubbly brains are bound to burst
Burst bubbly brains blow pink bubbles
Blank brainless bimbos bounce
Bouncing brainwashes blank bimbos
Blank bouncing bimbos are brainwashed
Brainwashed blank bimbos bounce
Go on, up and down, bouncing yourself all brainless and bubbly. You'll drift awake awhile after you've finished following my instructions.
Do let me know how silly, brainless, or dumb you felt...if you are comfortable expressing it, of course.
A message:
Hello yes I’m back, I took a break but now I’m here, please follow reblog and share, dms are open x
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whirlybirbs · 11 months
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I DIDNT ASK YOU TO CARE ABOUT ME 😭😭 YOU KNOW WHO
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;   —   webs && whispers    |    miguel o'hara
summary: set pre-atsv. he's the hero. you're the villain. but, that's been changing, hasn't it? pairing: miguel o'hara / villain!reader (gender neutral) tags: pre-established 'situationship' aka hero v. villain, enemies to lovers, sexual tension thick enough you can cut it with a butter knife, established reader pseudonym a/n: ... the people asked, so the people got *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
EARTH-928B. NUEVA YORK. MANHATTAN. WEST & 13TH. 11:56 PM.
"You're a hard spider to find these days."
Miguel feels irritation slip up his spine long before the phantom shift of your voice meets his ears. It's a hazy sound, like a chorus of susurrations converging into one. 
In the last few months, he's grown accustomed to it. 
Miquel, however, isn't sure he'll get used to the way you slip in and out of space like the flea on the tightrope. Here nor there, always lurching between the frames in reality, always ephemerally present. And the sound — voices of past, present, and future all overlapping at once, then: silence.
In a disjointed stutter, you're suddenly close — encroaching on his personal space in a way that makes his lip curl. A flash of fangs emerges beneath his mask. 
His back is still to you.
"I'm not in the mood, Whisper."
Beneath your mask, your face twitches. He sounds exhausted — though that isn't entirely new for Nueva York's un-friendly borough-stalking Spider-man. 
"Are you ever?" you quietly chirp as you stalk up beside him; you cross your arms, "I'm inclined to think you're avoiding me."
Up here, on a penthouse roof backlit by the nightlife above and below, you watch tension ripple into his shoulders as he rolls his posture back. That black mask hasn't left the horizon. Tar-black eyes stare out over the city, only narrowing slightly at your accusation. 
"We aren't friends."
He turns to walk away.
In a rush of hushes, you appear directly before him.
"Mierda—!"
"Sorry."
"We talked about that, Whisper," Miguel leans his weight onto one leg, reaches up, and pinches his brow through his mask, "It's called personal sp—"
You roll your eyes. You straighten up and move to step back, but — instead — shift a meter backward. You talk over him.
"Personal space, right, sure, Spidey," you slip towards the edge of the building, planting a boot on the lip of the ledge. You wind your arms tighter around yourself, "You're ignoring my question."
"You never asked one," he grits; against his better judgment, he moves to your side at the ledge.
"It was implied."
"I've been busy."
"Too busy for your nemesis?" you tsk and click your tongue. 
He's looking at you now. 
"Please. 'Nemesis' is hardly the correct title."
You scoff. Your shoulders bob. "Oh? C'mon then, Spider-bite, what is?"
It's a fair question — one that Miguel wasn't sure he has the answer for. 
In the beginning, this little tango was rife with explosive violence, scalding anger, bloodied knuckles, and sworn endings. You were a terrorist, fated to exploit and destroy the people whose mistakes made you: Alchemax. He was the hero, destined to protect and serve the people of Nueva York. Good and bad. 
Constant. Like the rise of the sun and the fall of the moon. Spider-man versus Whisper. Frontpage headlines. Time and time and time again.
Then, something shifted. Miguel can't remember when it began, or why... But, the collisions of fists became a tandem of fists. A team-up brought on by — was it Mysterio, maybe? You never liked the guy. 
Lyla remembers. She remembers everything. The footage from the incident is shaky — blame the multiple CCTV views all meshed together in a hot tangle of the canon-relevant plot. 
Spider-man is down on his luck. On his knees. Mysterio: laughing. Vitals: dropping. Three ribs: broken. Mask: compromised. Lyla's footage swivels inward, the sight of Miguel's one eye. A rageful carnelian smithed hard into a pained gaze. 
Then, you. Standing: tall. Voice: rageful. Fists: lit with power and already cracking across the opalescent globe of Mysterio's helmet.
SPIDER-MAN IS MINE. 
Yours. 
When did that happen? When did you begin to see his side, when did you begin to admire the safe consistency he built in this city? When did you envy it? When did the rage fade at the thought of him? When did something more tepid, more comfortable crawl in?
You turn your face upwards; there's a when moment your masked gazes connect. For a moment, things are still. Slow. There isn't danger here, nor hatred nor anger. The tension is different. Palpable still, but it feels like swallowing roses more than blood.
He looks away first.
"Try 'Number One Annoyance'."
His voice is distant.
You hum. "Care to enlighten your 'Number One Annoyance', then? You've been gone. People have noticed."
He was afraid of that.
Miguel exhales tightly. "Get out of here, Whisper."
He can feel your scowl. Then, your physical form flickers for a moment. A wash of emotions is present — a tell. In the past, that was how he knew you were going to snap. Now, in this context, he isn't quite sure what to make of it. There's a rush of voices, smothered quickly by a grounding inhale. 
You're quiet for a long moment then. Miguel's chest is tight — it's guilt.
"I'm only asking because I care," you finally say; it's like it's been wrenched out of your chest by his own clawed fist. It's an admission as quiet as the shadowed hushes that follow your every warp through space. 
He reacts coldly. The only way he knows how to these days. "I didn't ask you to care."
The claws twist. 
Another fast crackle, transparency pulsing quickly through your spine and nerves. Here nor there. Ephemerally calm. Like the ocean before a storm. Your face twists fast to his. Mask be damned. Miguel can see anger. 
Guilt. And the dawning realization this was a mistake. 
"It's better if I do this alone," comes the follow-up. It's... gentler. Still cold. Harsh. 
You look away. "Do what?"
Your eyes stay affixed to the horizon. Spider-man doesn't move. The stirring in your chest hurts. Hurts worse when you realize he's right. After all, he's the hero and you're the villain. You both have roles to play. Parts to act. The show must go on. 
"...A part of you knows I can't tell you that."
You sigh, rolling your neck, "You're right."
"...And a part of me wants to tell you."
It's quiet. Nearly inaudible. But you hear it. And you can't help the loose grin that flashes across your face at the admission. Your scoff is more like a huff. Gloved palms slip to your hips as you step back from the ledge. 
Suddenly, the tension is different. Lighter. Like it was a handful of weeks ago before he disappeared into the woven stream of time. 
Miguel follows suit. Beneath his own mask, his expression has lightened. 
"Yea?" you ask, stepping back like a prey recognizing the hunt. 
Miguel steps forward, shrugging easily. His voice is almost playful. "Yea. But, y'know, last I checked you're wanted on a new charge of grand larceny—"
"Oops. Sticky fingers," you chitter with a waggle of your hands. He watches you slip downward and through the fabric of space. You emerge behind him in a whisper of wind. 
Miguel is quick, he catches your hand with a web and tugs. You let yourself land in his grip — his black-gloved hand wraps around your wrist. He knows you're allowing this. You could easily wash away through the air, manifest around him in any three-meter radius. 
The closeness is tight.
"While the Spider's away..." he tsks.
Your glove slips around the web and tangles it tightly in your fist. You push back and move around him. He's allowing this. His arm crosses behind his back. You absently admire the ripple of muscle there. 
Then, you unceremoniously kick the back of his left knee and he crumples. The grip on his hand is tight. Miguel grits his fangs. 
"Play nice," he warns.
"I've known you long enough to tell when you're stalling, you know," you let slip the chirp with a sly look at the black and red Spider-man. 
On cue, there's the hum of a patrol copter over your shoulder. A few blocks away, still, but it's coming. Somewhere, in the bowels of the city, sirens begin. 
[ BOLO ALERT, MOST WANTED. ALIAS: WHISPER. ]
"If you leave now, you'll beat them by a minute," he says slowly, "Sixty-five floors is quite the trek."
You loosen your grip and gently shake the web from your hand. Miguel rolls his shoulder. You slip through time, landing before him in a low squat.
Your voice is sincere. 
"Try not to be a stranger."
"No promises."
"I'd never ask for one," you call over your shoulder as you stand and move towards the far ledge. Your costume, as pitch-black as the darkest night, is light in red and blue from the arriving patrols.
Just like that, in a haze of voices and a whisper of time, you're gone. 
And Miguel is left to himself on that rooftop, again.
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seelestia · 1 year
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A Blessed Imperfection [1/3]
(submitted by: @/hermosacolibri. all credits go to them, this work isn't mine!)
SYNOPSIS: Many consider your disability as a burden, but he finds a way to make it a blessing in disguise. What makes us flawed is what makes us unique, and that is what he considers the most beautiful thing about you—an imperfection he dearly adores. Nevertheless, he knows of your lingering sorrows and thus seeks a way to support you in the best way he could.
WARNING(S): symptoms of chronic/terminal illness, implications of mental instability, mentions of past trauma resulting to severe injury, possible triggers, panic attacks, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, etc…
CHARACTER(S):
Aether (as Traveler & Abyss Prince), Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Dainsleif
NOTE: I copy-pasted this from my Quotev so if the format turns bad, that’s why lmao. Part 2 will have the Zhongli and Ayato version I submitted with some other characters from the same nations. Part 3 will be Sumeru boys and Harbingers. I will submit them at a later date lol. Anyway, I would like to leave a shameless promo here for those interested in my writing. HERE is my Quotev. For those who wish to read about my collab story here on Tumblr, it is posted by my co-writer: @intothegenshinworld
AETHER is like a star in the abyssal sky, constantly in sight yet far out of mortal reach. He carries the wishes of others, granting them in acts of what shall be seen as miracles or blessings. When time arrives for departure, he shoots across the cosmos with a trail of light that leaves witnesses mesmerized. Alas, he whom was born half of a whole, the name of this Traveler is forever bound to that of another—his dear sister, Lumine. Due to these same ties, he undergoes a quest across Teyvat to find her. The promise of a reunion always uttered by his lips, hopeful and eager yet never taking for granted the steps he took.
The lonely young man is at odds with the world. He could barely trust anyone after some god caused him to separate from his younger sibling. However, this humble Viator continues to treat others amiably in hopes to be treated the same way. From nation to nation, the blond adolescent sought answers from this peculiar world that felt so nostalgic yet still so foreign to him. There are trying moments of grief and frustration, but also blissful days of celebration.
Throughout this path, it was entirely unexpected for him to develop an intimate attachment.
Aether was not a stranger to bittersweet partings, as someone whom has always hopped from one world to another. For this same reason, he and Lumine try not to get too invested in any realm they visit. It was better for them as well as for everyone else that welcome them so affectionately. There must always be a particular distance to maintain, since there can be no guarantee of their stay or return. A deeper tragedy is the knowledge they can easily outlive the dwellers of any world. Witnessing the birth and death of many stars since their youth, the twins have grown rather desensitized to friendships that would not last as long as their lifespan.
That is why this separation hits them where it hurts enough to leave a scar.
Then, there was you.
As a mere mortal in a world governed by gods, you are content to live your life the best way you know. It is a lifestyle that can change at your will. One day, you can be exploring as an adventurer. The next, you are a seamstress earning your keep for the week you plan to stay with the spinsters. Every other month, you do a variety of odd jobs that you have learned throughout your lifetime. As a human, you are most hyperaware that everything can be ephemeral…
…and someday, even your soul shall be relinquished to the judgment of Celestia.
Until then, it is yours to do as you see fit.
For this reason, you felt torn by the Pyro Vision that had been bestowed upon you. While most of your peers seek the blessing of the divine gaze, you have subconsciously sought to avoid it. Many saw it as a gift but you were raised under the notion that most presents come with strings. Earning the “eye of god” meant that you are under Celestia’s watchful gaze, thus binding you to the Heavenly Principles. Their elemental blessings taunt mortals to dare reaching for the stars, and gain a place amongst the divine if they are deemed worthy of it.
Well, you personally believe that only thineself can determine one’s worth—no other, not even the gods.
Nevertheless, you move forward. Keep going on a quest without a destination, as you always do, until this fleeting life comes to its inevitable end.
Needless to say, there is one thing you genuinely did not see coming—
“I am so sorry, Miss!”
—and that was meeting your soulmate.
“It’s fine.” You replied.
Aether scrambles to collect your things while you do the same at a more relaxed pace. Your satchel had become so worn that it took a small bump to finally snap the strap. Now, all your possessions have been scattered across the ground. Fortunately, the blond stranger is a very kind and considerate young man.
Once you got everything, said stranger wasted no time apologizing profusely again.
“I should have been looking where I was walking! It was my fault.”
You tilt your head, “You could just make it up to me and we can call it even.”
His aureate eyes beamed as he nodded with an eager smile. At that moment, you wonder if he is the personification of the sun.
You smiled serenely, “I’m [Name].”
He pauses, a flicker of doubt passing through his gaze. Quick as it came, it disappeared as he smiled back—a tad softer.
“Just call me Aether.”
That day, he bought you a new satchel.
When you were younger, your parents always said that one moment is the same as a thousand—you only need one. It was a proverb that both confused and unnerved you. After they died together due to sickness, the words were haunting as you buried them before leaving your village. Every moment was cherished by you, each one unique in the best and worst of ways. However, as both you and Aether keep crossing each other’s paths after one meeting, a part of you finally thrums to life in understanding.
At one point, Aether even sought you out for a joint commission together.
“Don’t you have a travelling partner?” You asked.
He laughs sheepishly, “He’s a bit busy doing other things. Also…”
A light blush colored his cheeks, looking away as he scratched his nape lightly.
“…I wanted to spend some time with you.”
You found him cute so you agreed.
On that particular day, Aether learned something new about you. It was the little things he had been noting every time you met. The way you sometimes slur even though not a drop of alcohol can be traced from your scent, how you try so hard to keep your emotions under a certain level of control, how your eyes randomly droop even when you always look so adequately well-rested, and the pills he saw you sneak into your meals/drinks—you were ill. Perhaps, it was not the traditional ailment that left you weak and bedridden. The scariest symptom has been the occasional hallucinations that distract you, since the more vivid ones tend to set off your Vision. Anything within a meter radius is either set aflame, or rises up in temperature. It is why you always remind him to keep a certain distance whenever you tend to space out. He never prodded because you gave him the same respect of privacy by never prying into his life, even if he saw the incessant curiosity he adored about you. Still, he looks after you because he had to admit he truly grew fond of you.
Then, on your way home, you just abruptly collapsed as if your entire body went boneless.
“[Name]—!!!”
Aether caught you just in time before your head hit the ground. He checks your temperature for a fever, and then searches for some wounds you might have missed. You have a high pain tolerance, which can sometimes be a disadvantage whenever an injury goes unnoticed. There was a time a scratch almost got infected, or even when you nearly bled out because a poison prevented coagulation.
When he saw no signs, the outlander lifts you up in his arms and calls for the nearest doctor.
Thankfully, nothing was amiss and you just needed to rest while adjusting your diet.
Aether witnessed the true horror of your condition when you abruptly woke up half past midnight. He was already passed out on your bedside, sat on the ground and his head resting on his forearms. The chaise lounge would have been practical, but the blond felt the urge to be near you. At some point, he just dozed off.
On the other hand, you jolted awake with a choked gasp and widened eyes of terror. It was not due to any frightening nightmare. This is just how it always goes every time you wake up: frozen stiff, terrified, and barely breathing. Your pupils dilate as your iris moved wildly to make sense of your surroundings, pointedly ignoring the shadows manifesting into something monstrous. The candle on the nightstand was unfortunately almost fully spent, flickering to its last embers of light. With every dance, the shadows seem to get closer and slithering to get their clawed hands on you.
Alas, the candlelight spares you one last hope of salvation amidst this merciless night.
Sunshine golden hair glowed, emitting a silver halo as moonlight peeked from the half-open blinds. As much as you are able, you desperately crane your neck to see your companion. Tears blur your sight but the silhouette is unmistakable to you. His warm breath blew against your fingers, centimeters away from his lips as he breathed. Chilling goosebumps ran across your skin yet you welcomed it, hoping to regain mobility from this nightmarish paralysis. Your hand twitched, wishing to get ahold of this precious little sun—uncaring if it burns.
If you are to be like Icarus, then you would prefer an end embraced by warmth and light…
…instead of ice and darkness.
Perhaps, pyro suited you for this reason.
Your lips purse, crying in anguish to speak.
“A…Ae…A-Aether…”
To your relief, that seems to be enough to awaken the young man. However, respite is all to brief as your chest seizes up. The mere act of breathing gets difficult, and your heartbeat grew alarmingly slow as it echoed alongside the tinnitus in your ears.
Aether blinks awake, expecting the grace of morning light. Instead, he was met with your agonized gaze in a darkening room. In an instant, he snaps into full attention as he cups your face. You cannot hear him but you can guess that he must be firing questions out of concern.
“[Name], what’s wrong?! Are you in pain? What can I do? How can I help?” He exclaimed.
You gasped and hoarsely coughed.
“C-Can’t…breathe…I…”
The blond quickly thinks back to whenever Lumine experienced minor panic attacks. He assumes this is relatively similar, so he hopes his next actions will help rather than harm. Gently and carefully, he takes you into his arms. Back against the headboard, the new position situates you comfortably on his lap as one arm is secured around your waist. He takes both of your trembling hands with his free one, directing them to rest against his sternum.
“[Name],” he says softly yet firmly, “I need you to focus on me, okay? Focus for me. Hey—”
He catches your frantic gaze around the room and mindfully tilts your head back to meet his stare. They are brimming with steadfast reassurance, not at all deterred by the dark beasts. Your head rests against his shoulder, as you do as he told—closing your eyes to only relish his warmth, consume his scent, and listen to his voice.
“Breathe with me. Inhale, exhale…”
His chest rises and falls, to which you mimic the rhythm in return.
“Feel my pulse, and use it as your center.”
One hand keeps hold of his and the other seeks his heart, obeying the instructions.
The hand connected to the arm securing your back drift to your hair. At that moment, you realize that Aether’s hands are ungloved. Wandering fingers comb through your strands, calming you down with a soothing pet. Little by little, you regain movement in your limbs yet you rest limply—content.
“That’s it.” Aether whispered, “You’re doing great. Just keep repeating the exercise with me.”
“Aether…”
“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
You wept and sobbed, “Aether…”
“I know.” He murmurs as he cries with you, “You’ve been so strong, [Name]. Everything’s fine. You’re not alone anymore.”
You look up, “Promise?”
He looks back, “I promise.”
The hand on his chest reaches for his white scarf as you pull him down. He obliges as his grip on you tightened, holding you close while your free hands adjust to interlace with each other.
That was the first kiss of many.
Day or night, Aether stood by you. Every battle was fought together. Every quest was finished together, sometimes with his elusive partner named Dainsleif whom was later introduced to you. On the journey to search for his sister, he even renewed his vows.
“When we find her, you can come with us.”
You smile teasingly, “I don’t have world-hopping powers.”
He narrows his eyes at you, unyieldingly headstrong and determined.
“I’ll find a way to bring you with us anyway.”
He raises your hand to his lips with a sly grin.
“You’re not getting rid of me~!”
Aether cradled you in adoration as if you were an endless summer amidst the cold loneliness of his sister’s absence. You beheld him as if he was the sun bringing life to the paradise of your evanescent mortality. The pair of you were thriving happily, hand in hand, even after discovering the truth of this world—and dictating the journey’s end.
Then, your Vision broke mysteriously, and you were condemned to an enchanted sleep.
Aether cursed the divine and all of Teyvat for it. He figured this was his price for learning the truth, but taking you will be their gravest mistake. He severes his ties with Dainsleif, whom tried to console him into taking the righteous path. He viewed you as his friend as well, and he knew you would not want this for your lover.
Now, the Abyss Prince sits by your bed—waiting in forlorn hope. His ungloved knuckles caress your cheek lovingly. You were dressed in a nightgown with abyss colors, outlined by satin ribbons of silver and gold. A crown of inteyvat rested on your head, petals scattered across your spread locks draped over silk pillows. They have grown after the past centuries but he dutifully trims them to an acceptable length.
“Your Highness,” the Abyss Herald called, “it is time.”
Aether paused. His honey gaze hardens and his aura turns cold. He breathes deeply, eyes closed to lean down and leave a chaste kiss on your brow.
“I will return shortly, my love.”
He puts on his gloves, taking leave resolutely.
Even if the sun turns black, you will both find your way back to each other. Even as the moon is painted red, goodbye shall never be an option. Every star in the sky—false or otherwise—shall bear witness to a union that even the Heavenly Principles would dare not destroy. Should this world be torn asunder, the reckoning cannot spell departure for either you or Aether. This is the eclipse that will pave the way to a new world, as the Abyss Order entails.
For if fate can only be accepted, thy vows shath be sworn by royal decree—
“You are my predestined person, the one I will always choose.”
ALBEDO discovered that there is beauty in what the heart perceives which the eyes cannot see. As an artist, he can grasp onto the concept yet is unable to truly understand it since he heavily relies upon his sight. As an alchemist, whatever eludes him may come into being by his own hands and thus enable him to attain it. The pursuit of truth is a mere matter of time and place, preordained even if hidden. As the most prized creation of Rhinedottir, he was given the task of uncovering the truth of this world for himself as a purpose in life. Even if to exist is a sin in the eyes of Celestia, he must endure and keep moving forward to reach his answers.
Amidst such dedicated research, there was little time and effort to be spared for attachments. The Chief Alchemist of Ordo Favonius finds it much too difficult to maintain. Of course, exceptions has been made throughout the years. Aside from his master, he had bonded with Alice and Klee as family. He had also made friendships with his colleagues amongst the Knights of Favonius and his subordinates, whom he taught the art of alchemy. Alas, as an artificial human created by a sinner, he feels as if he can never belong anywhere. Regardless of these bonds, the Kreideprinz feels as if a part of his heart remains hollow. 
It came to him that this place was reserved for you, the apple of his eye.
Ever since Albedo met you, a new muse began to live within his heart. People consider it as seeing the world through rosy lenses; but for him, it felt as if everything appeared clearer than facts…
…and it was beautiful.
The sun shines brighter. The wind blows cooler. The grass looks greener. Therefore, life is that much greater and sweeter. He is still in pursuit of truth, yet he felt as if the magnum opus was already in his hands—molded in the shape of you.
His only lament was that you could not see it alongside him.
You were not born blind. It happened from an act of jealousy and unkindness. Before you came to the City of Freedom, you were a noblewoman dwelling in Fontaine and worked as an artist. Much like him, you love to paint and draw but Albedo always argues that you were better at it. He had seen your works long ago, and every single piece has never failed to inspire him. It was as if each painting can bequeath aspirations, letting it blossom from the hearts of the people that view it.
Then, news spread that your entire atelier was set on fire while you were still in it…
…and then, you lost your eyes.
The Hydro Vision in your hand may have been the sole reason you even survived. Many speculated that you can never make art the same way again.
You came to Mondstadt, wishing to break free from the suffocating experience. You struggled to regain your passion, overcome your sorrows.
Then, you met Albedo; and one thing led to another.
It started when you were taking a stroll in Springvale with your guide dog, Vincent. He is a very spirited Golden Retriever, protective and responsible. You both stumble upon a young girl named Klee, whom was busy fighting a bunch of hilichurls. You opted to stand aside and calm your snarling canine friend, petting his head. When your keen hearing detected irregular breathing and racing heartbeat, you realize that the little girl was getting overwhelmed. She must have fought other hoards before your arrival, and now you hear slimes joining the fray. Thus, you order Vincent to keep his distance and engaged.
Sword unsheathed from your walking cane, you attack the ones behind Klee. Her bombs startled you when they exploded too close, but your hydro shield easily deflected any friendly fire. Vapor damage is then redirected to the monsters, tempering the girl’s mines and lasers so your skin will not be singed by the building heat. Vincent was barking wildly like a supportive cheerleader, growling whenever you get nicked or whenever the other girl yelped.
Soon, the fight was over.
The pitter-patters of tiny feet went towards you, and stopped at an arm’s length. You look down, smiling kindly yet not sheathing your blade.
“Thank you for helping Klee!” She chirped.
You chuckle, “You’re welcome.”
Vincent came running towards you, shamelessly  nuzzling your legs. He then licks Klee’s hand in his own way of befriending her, causing the girl to giggle from the ticklish sensation. She hugs him around the neck, and you can only tilt your head in amusement.
“What’s your name, Miss?”
“You may call me [Name].”
The hairs at your nape rose. Although you can see nothing else but darkness, your eyes also snapped open with a dark glower. By instinct, you swung your sword to strike whomever snuck behind you.
A resounding clang echoed in your ears, as metal struck against metal. Another sword has parried yours skillfully yet makes no move to counter.
“Brother Albedo…!” Klee exclaims.
Upon realization that this is no stranger, you swiftly disengaged with a soft apology. The gesture was returned as the man apologized for startling you. To your amazement, Vincent did not seem to be wary of this newcomer. The dog merely barked gruffly, a bit admonishing, instead of growling defensively like he always did.
“You dropped this.” Albedo said.
You hesitantly presented your hand to receive whatever he was giving. A familiar cloth is placed on your palm. You belatedly realized that it was your blindfold. It is a durable silk fabric that kept your burn scars from showing. Your disfigured face has been exposed all this time for Klee to see.
It must have been a horrifying sight—
“Your eyes are very pretty, Miss [Name]!”
Your breath hitched at the unexpected compliment, turning away shyly. As you wore the blindfold again, Klee notices Albedo smiling in awe at you. She put up her hands to cover her mouth and muffle her mischievous giggles.
“I agree.” He murmured.
You nodded, “Many thanks.”
Albedo never told you, but for him, it was love at first sight the moment his eyes met yours. There have been solitary days spent in Dragonspine where he wondered tirelessly:
Would it have been a mutual feeling if you could have seen him back then too?
From then onwards, the mysterious alchemist had turned into a close friend. He acted as a personal pillar of support in unexpected ways. The little ball of sunshine that is Klee turned into a source of lighthearted joy for you as well. They tend to visit your home in the city together, offering gifts and knick-knacks. The habitual meetings resulted into some new friends who helped you settle down in Mondstadt, especially Eula. Her own aristocratic lineage helped you two bond about a lot of things, even when she vehemently rejects hers—which is frankly for understandable reasons. You both share the sentiment that genuine nobility upholds the belief of noblesse oblige above all.
Albedo, most of all, enabled you to regain the love you thought had been lost forever with your sight.
Although life still hit hard with how you struggle to create art, your appreciation for it was reborn and you are experiencing everything all over again as something new. Regardless of the burns and scars that made you insecure, the Kreideprinz made you feel nothing less than desirable and deserving of love. Though the blankness of your gaze saddens him, and sometimes even angers him due to the injustice you were dealt—he saw beauty in all that is you, and everything that blossoms from your hands.
Just for a moment, he wanted to show you what he sees the only way he knew: to create.
Vincent guided you into Albedo’s personal art studio in Mondstadt. The canine looked more excited than you. He nipped at the alchemist's white coat, tail wagging as he sat by your feet but paid attention to your lover. Charming eyes swept between you two as if awaiting praise and treats for a job well done.
For a moment, Albedo was reminded of Klee and it made him smile. He kneels down before the dog, patting his head. After a few minutes of petting, he relinquishes the promised treat.
Vincent then ran to his corner, satisfied. Usually, he is very protective and ends up hovering next to you; but with Albedo, he knows you are safe.
You giggled amusedly.
“Sometimes,” your lover sighed, “I think he only likes me to get treats and headpats. He also only comes to me by whining to play.”
You smirked teasingly, “Sounds familiar.”
Albedo paused before giving you a scolding look, yet the twitching smile betrayed him. He was then taken aback when you presented him a small gift bag and a bouquet of cecilia flowers.
“Happy Anniversary~!” You said.
He smiles, accepting your gifts to greet you back.
“Happy Anniversary, [Name].”
Per usual greeting, Albedo takes your hands in his to let them settle. Then, you let go to just feel as they glide across his skin. He closes his eyes to relish your caresses, nuzzling when you reach his face and touched his cheeks. From there, you felt his smile and it spurned yours.
However, as the alchemist opened his eyes, he had witnessed the spark of sadness in yours.
On your first anniversary together, Albedo crafted a special gift. A wooden easel held a blank canvas, or so it seems. If not for the colorful palette and wet brushes, nobody would spare it any glance or even thought. He guides you in front of him, encasing you in his arms and pressing his chest to your back. His lips whispered instructions almost seductively, soft and sensual as he lifted your hands to move them forward.
“Go ahead.” He implored your touch.
Fingertips make contact with what seems to be a canvas, but with bumps on it that definitely felt like braille. Your brows furrowed in confusion, unable to interpret it as anything. You can decipher some sort of pattern, but nothing in the braille alphabet comes to mind that makes sense.
“Don’t think in words, love.” Albedo advised, “Imagine it as you would paint a landscape.”
He is familiar with your art technique. After all, he has always been a fan since he first purchased your work at an auction. His keen observation noticed that the colors bloom from the center. Then, multiple layers come to refine the structure and control the shades. Once the painting is complete, the basic foundations are harder to notice but details never escape Albedo. To him, it felt like he was seeing two images in a single painting: one perceived by sight, and another perceived by heart—dual masterpieces for the price of one.
You follow his words and thus you begin to deduce a work of something.
The braille patterns made you think of Mondstadt’s flower meadows, petals of cecilia and seedheads of dandelions fluttering in the breeze. An orb that seems to be the sun is raised eastward with what appeared to be outlines of birds, aflight in the cloudy horizon. There are faint marks connoting mountains in the distance, and flowing swirls that felt like wave patterns along the coast. To further understand his message, you sought the center much like how you used to paint.
Albedo detects your newfound focus, aware that an image has been imprinted upon your mind.
“[Name],” he murmured tenderly, “I need you to keep your hands on the canvas. I will guide you in this next step. Do you trust me?”
You smiled meaningfully, “Always.”
A loving caress upon your skin is accompanied by a chaste kiss on your crown.
“I cannot give you the world—”
Then, the brailles moved.
“—but I can leave a piece of it in your hands.”
You quickly realize that the brailles were not made of ordinary material. Days and nights of listening to your lover’s random alchemy ramblings allowed you to learn a thing or two. This braille painting has been constructed with special elemental crystals. From the feel of it, they respond strongly to elemental energy—particularly yours and Albedo’s combined, both currently being channeled. Depending on the crystal, it can resonate with other elements.
Beneath your hands, the patterns moved in looping motion to signify that it was animated. Furthermore, the energy that resonated from every shard is almost alive. Anemo can be felt from the swaying of the dandelions, and dendro amplified the scent of the scattered cecilia across the grassland. Even the painted sun emits a comforting warmth due to hints of pyro, as if bathing the scenery with its light. The waves along the shoreline felt moist due to hydro, which resonated strongly with you—and for a short second, you actually miss Fontaine. The mountains are the familiar cold of cryo, which then registered for you that it was likely a reference of Dragonspine.
Just from this, your mind’s eyes can almost envision the outline of a city—one founded by Barbatos.
In Albedo’s eyes, the special formula for the paint which Sucrose helped him concoct had finally revealed itself. To outsiders, the canvas is nothing more but a lumpy surface. In truth, the blind will see its true form; and when given life via elemental energy, the rest will be unveiled. To you whom once knew the colors of the world, the simple animations of the image form a kaleidoscope that provides you melancholic nostalgia. By your fingertips, it certainly felt as if Albedo had given you a piece of the world that only you can see.
For this one moment, he and you can perceive the same world.
Tears gathered in your eyes yet a heartfelt smile radiantly shone upon your face. A sob of genuine happiness wracked your throat. As your knees begin to weaken, you leaned on the man that helped you see again—
—even if only a few seconds.
Albedo also smiled in relief, fully embracing you around the shoulders in support. He let you take in the moment while he basked under the blessing of your presence.
“If there is anything else you wish to see again,” he solemnly swore, “I will be your eyes and shall piously present its sights to you.”
At his oath, you abruptly let go of the painting and turned. Cupping his face in your hands, your lips eagerly meet his. Albedo returns your passionate amor with fervor, ever delighted to please you. He wishes to someday discover the truth of this world, as his master bade him to do. His one desire is that you would be there beside him when he does.
Even if destruction came by his hand, he already knows one truth by heart—
“The beauty of this world forever pales in comparison to you.”
DILUC RAGNVINDR is an uncrowned king raised as a noble gentleman of chivalry and gallantry. From the fiery red of his hair to his stern crimson glare, he upholds his aristocratic lineage with dignity. The cumbersome title of lord dictates the gravity of his obligations to Mondstadt. Whether as a nocturnal vigilante or as master of Dawn Winery, those who dare to threaten his home will face the wrath of his flames. Sinners who refuse penance shall have their blood paint the mighty blade of his claymore, as a furious firebird sends the wicked to retribution.
As a man coveted by many, he keeps his circle small and tightly knit. An outsider’s only chance to ever earn his favor is to either make themselves useful to Mondstadt, or by earning the approval of his more compassionate wife.
That woman is none other than you.
Diluc met you as a playmate in his childhood. His father, Master Crepus, was both a close friend and trusted business partner of your parents. Like the Ragnvindrs, your family specializes in the wine industry—specifically the medicinal values that are incorporated in liquor. Although your own father is from Mondstadt, he settled down in Liyue upon marrying your mother. Secretly, you and Diluc were arranged to be married. Everything worked out well since you both actually liked each other a lot. He was a very protective yet supportive friend, while you were a tactful and encouraging listener. When Kaeya had joined the family, the three of you became quite the inseparable trio.
Then, Crepus Ragnvindr died.
Everything happened so fast. Before you knew it, your fiancé chose to disappear and left only a single note for you as goodbye. It was not even a proper farewell, at least not the kind he made sure to give you every time. Even if there was little to no sincere romance in your engagement, you both respected each other as equals. However, his final note had completely staggered you.
“Don’t wait for me.” It said.
Such a heavy message in merely four words…
You understand what he means by it. He has made a decision wherein he would prefer to not involve you, and thus opting to let you go. The contract regarding the engagement was never too binding. Crepus had assured that either of you can break it off if you both reach such a consensus. However, the former head of the Ragnvindr Clan did not just choose any girl to be paired with his son. He specifically took interest in you because he always knew—if any woman can ever match his son and heir in terms of headstrong stubbornness, it can only be you.
With the patience of a saint, you graciously accepted Diluc’s decision. However, it did not mean you would back down so easily.
Honestly, you see it as poor manners to just leave things with a note. You have to just wait in the Dawn Winery so you can give him a proper scolding upon his inevitable return. Until then, you were more than willing to manage everything else on his behalf. The servants are ecstatic to find out you meant to stay despite their young master’s wishes. Your parents are also very considerate, only ever wishing for your happiness since then and now.
Under your supervision, Dawn Winery flourished and maintained dignity after the loss of its masters. You hold the cunning and integrity of any businessman worth their salt. Adelinde, Elzer, and the entire staff can attest that you are more strict than even the late Lady Ragnvindr—wife of Master Crepus.
Kaeya never confided to you whatever caused the fallout between him and his brother. However, he seemed so relieved and touched when you did not treat him differently. If anything, you seem to dote on him even more now—like a real older sister. He thus returns your kind and loving care equally, a bout of protectiveness that rivals your absent fiancé.
Years later, tragedy struck once again.
You were mistaken as the official Lady Ragnvindr by whichever enemies Diluc had made. They aimed to lure him out by means of threatening his supposed wife, taking you hostage. Despite being Visionless, you were far from a pushover. You did not go down without a fight and worked to plan your escape.
In the end, your captors thought you to be more trouble than your worth…
…and so, they aimed to kill you.
It is only due to Kaeya’s timely arrival this instance that you did not follow Crepus.
However, you did not get out of the incident perfectly unscathed. The brutality you suffered had caused a critical and permanent injury on your spine. It is with heavy hearts that the doctors informed you of the grim situation: you can never walk again.
Diluc promptly returned to Mondstadt when Kaeya relayed the news to him via letter. He had been so devastated to realize that you almost died because of him. He wanted to protect you by letting you go, but he underestimated your resolve. In his mind, he knew the only way to truly get you far away from him is to make you hate him. Upon finding courage to visit you, he doubled down on his determination when he left you years ago. You deserve better, and the life he could give you as Lady Ragnvindr will only be a disappointment. You deserve so much better than waking up to a cold, empty bed and waiting on late nights.
He opened the door to your room in his manor, ready to break your heart so you can leave him.
However, his hardened goal fell short.
You sat by the window, as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Even confined to a wheelchair, you remain smiling so warmly. Your enchanting gaze meets his crimson pair, and he melted at the sheer adoration you bestowed upon him. Your cheeks took a rosy glow, and your smile widened—lips moving to utter words of welcoming him back home, yet he cannot hear a thing. His only thoughts revolved on how badly he wanted to kiss you right now.
Diluc missed you so much, and hence he realized that he really is a fool.
How can he ever survive if he truly broke your heart, the most precious thing you entrusted to him?
“Marry me.” He said.
Much to his surprise, you only laughed and accepted—as if you always believed he would return to you.
It was truly laughable how easily you can weaken his resolve with a mere smile.
“It took you long enough, Master Diluc~!”
You winked at him as you laughed. Despite your lighthearted cheer, the redhead can see that the years apart took a toll on you. He crossed the room in graceful strides and he saw you more vividly. The bags under your eyes did little to dull their sparkle; the hollowness of your cheeks worried him but the rosy hue amplified their glamor; and your pallor was a little too pale for his liking, yet the freckles across your nose reassured him that you get enough sun on a daily basis.
Then, he bends down to hold you close and buries his face at the crook of your neck.
Your heart skipped lightly.
Then, you hugged him back—more tightly.
Diluc said nothing as he felt his shoulder get wet, and you did not make a sound as yours trembled.
“Welcome home.” You whispered.
He grits his teeth to fight against the tears.
“I’m home.” He murmurs.
The marriage started a little awkwardly. Three years had been a long time, and you both had changed in ways that put a strain on your dynamic. However, as you both learned to trust each other the way you did as kids, everything else flowed smoothly. You relied on him as he relied on you. Thanks to your endless patience, you managed to help your dear husband in anything that troubled his heart. At times, it is only by your gentle interventions that his overprotective tendencies can be quelled. It had become norm for the people of Mondstadt to see you at a cozy corner of Angel’s Share—beside the bar, whenever your husband took a shift. Any shenanigans are put to a stop by a warning glare that seemed more scathing than any other nights. None of the patrons—drunk or otherwise—dare to start any ruckus as long as you were present in the tavern.
There is nothing that Diluc kept from you anymore, as he claimed no more secrets. Although, he was curious when you steered clear if the topic is Kaeya.
“It’s not just your secret to share.” You reasoned.
The redhead felt his love and respect for you deepen at the claim.
Now, you sat in your husband’s office. While he was busy doing paperwork, you did embroidery on a silk pillow that got torn. However, there was a stifling air in the room that bothered him.
“What is it?” Diluc asked.
You raise a brow, “What do you mean?”
He stared back knowingly, “You have been redoing the same stitch for the past half hour. That only happens when you’re distracted; and you’re only ever distracted when something is troubling you.”
The redhead leans back on his chair, dropping his quill to cross his arms.
“So,” he continued, “what is it?”
You blushed at the fact you were caught so easily, but also flattered by how he is so attentive to you.
Diluc is then worried by your prolonged hesitance, gradually standing up from his chair. He walks up to you leisurely, kneeling by your side. His gloved hands take yours, mindful of your needlework as he placed it on the table. His vibrant eyes implore you to share your burdens, waiting and encouraging.
“I lied to you.”
He frowns at your blunt confession but said nothing, tilting his head to let you continue.
“On our wedding,” you reminisced, “you asked me what I wanted most so you could provide it. I replied that there was nothing more I could ever want since you asked me to marry you for real.”
Your right hand carefully broke free from his, rising to tuck his fringe away. Your palm rests on his cheek and your husband savored it with fondness. He then recalls being ready to arrange a grandiose wedding that day, remembering how much you rambled about being like a princess in your shared childhood. As a young boy, it used to grate on his nerves; but as your fiancé, Diluc found it necessary to pay attention.
Back then, he did not question it when you asked for a simpler celebration. After all, a lot has changed between him and you—for better and for worse.
“However,” you murmured, “there was one thing I had truly wished to experience with you.”
Your eyes stray away from his, drifting towards the unfinished embroidery pillow. His own eyes follow, and he immediately understands. The picture’s basic design depicts a pair of lovers dancing under the moonlit night. A gazebo frames their silhouettes while lampgrass grew around its base structure.
A wedding dance.
Diluc looks back up to you, smiling in exasperated affection. He then leans forward, taking you into his arms as he stood up. A mild squeak escapes your lips as your own arms clung to his neck, caught off guard by his sudden movement. Your husband steps out of the room while carrying you, yet offers no explanation whatsoever. Although you felt confused, it did not stop you from relaxing in his embrace and just leaning against him.
The redhead took you to the main foyer, and headed straight towards a small library corner. He dismisses the maid stationed to clean it, leaving you both in privacy. First, you were placed on the recliner near the fireplace. Then, he walked towards the old yet pristine gramophone. It belonged to his mother, he vaguely remembers. His father told him that she always loved to collect vinyls, a bittersweet sheen of unconditional love shining in his eyes.
The young lord wonders if the two of you would also remain as in love when you get older together.
“Diluc, what is this all about—”
You trailed off as waltz music began to play.
“When my wife wishes to dance,” he says, “what kind of husband am I to refuse?”
A suave smirk on his handsome face leaves you so utterly breathless. Your heart races, bursting with an unspeakable joy to call this man yours. Captivated by the sight of him, you can only watch as he strides back to you—charming as a prince straight out of a fairy tale book. His gloved hand is presented with a chivalrous bow, his rare theatric side being shown only for you—always only for you.
“May I have this dance, Milady?” He asks.
You gape speechlessly for a minute. A part of you was reluctant. How can you possibly dance in this circumstance? Nonetheless, you trust Diluc more than anything so you accepted.
“You may.”
Diluc gives a dazzling smile at your faith in him, and gently pulls you up. He expertly places your feet on his shoes, carrying your weight as you swayed. One of your hands is on his shoulder while one of his arms is wrapped firmly around your waist, holding you close. Your respective free hands are entwined, inseparable and perfectly at ease.
The marital couple moved fluidly and gracefully. You entrusted your body completely, to be moved in this dance he led confidently. Your patience and trust are returned by his warmth and protection, cradling you in a chrysalis that hopes to let you flourish. He even dares to help you twirl, making the skirt of your dress flutter like the petals of a wild rose in bloom.
The dreamlike sequence ends as he dips you into an intimate position. Heartbeats skip in sync, never of fear but of exhilaration.
Your hands leave his, believing he would never let you fall even if you let go. His grip transferred to your back and your nape, eager to be your support. You caress his face and pull him down for a searingly passionate kiss. He indulges you wholly, taking all that you have willingly given him. Your fingers shook as they entangle with his red mane. With the ease of a man who wields a claymore, he lifts you up. Your arms held tight around his neck, tilting into a new angle to not break the kiss. The fervor is returned a hundred fold, as if Diluc wishes nothing more than to fuse his soul with yours.
You are the one who empowers his flames, igniting his heart as your chosen Ifrit.
He made a vow at the altar, and not even death can do you part anymore—
“The privilege to call you mine is an honor I cannot surrender to fate.”
KAEYA ALBERICH is someone painfully aware of the power in words, and uses it to his advantage. He is as mysterious as he is efficient at being the Cavalry Captain of Ordo Favonius. The charisma he exudes can be as menacing as the frigid coldness of his Cryo Vision. The swiftness of his blade can be more merciful than the secrets he ruthlessly exploits. As much as he is admired by his peers, everyone can unanimously agree that his enigmatic ways leave them a little wary to trust him entirely. Nevertheless, the cunning of a flightless bird is just as deadly as the venom of a pit viper. A reluctance to comply is merely a sign to delve deeper.
In the carefree city of Mondstadt, only one has squared up to his level and defeated him—
—in every sense of the word.
You are the dainty little assistant of Lisa Minci, the resident librarian of Mondstadt. She slyly evades all attempts of divulging how and from where she met you. It is rumored she just found you sewing some of her worn books one day, and then decided that she has to have you as her assistant. The only other thing known about your relationship with her is that she can be extremely protective to the point of territorial. Similarly, nobody can fully understand the eccentricities demonstrated by the Witch of Purple Rose as much as you do. Since your employment, a peaceful synergy can be observed in the workings of the library and even the Knights of Favonius HQ.
The most notable thing about you is how you never limit your goodwill to work. Anyone you can reach is always on the receiving end of compassion. As such examples, Lisa has proudly introduced you to many of her prestigious friends. Since then, it had become a norm for them to see you.
Jean always ends up a little more relaxed with the cups of coffee you brew for her. You serve her tea as a silent insistence when it was time to rest. Albedo and Sucrose now have a habit of asking your referral in finding the best locations for any ingredients they would need. At random times, you appear around the corner to help Noelle in the most menial tasks and labors. Whenever Amber returns from her daily outriding, she would find you welcoming her by the gates with some food and water. Lastly, even Eula has begun picking you up to join her for lunch on weekends. You are the only civilian that never treats her differently, and actually seems to like her very much as a friend.
In a bout of poetic irony, the only one that seems to rarely receive your kindness was Kaeya.
Of course, you were far from unkind or cruel. You still greet him amicably every time you cross paths in the hallways or city streets. However, his shrewd gaze can detect your hesitance to interact with him for prolonged periods of time. Politely asking you about it did him no good as well. You only stared at him skeptically before shrugging, as if he should know the answer. A part of him questioned why it even bothered him so much, but perhaps it was a matter of ego. He knows himself well enough to be aware that it could be the reason he kept persisting on gaining your favor.
When Kaeya decided to tell Lisa about his situation, she had the gall to laugh at him.
“It’s because she sees right through you.”
Kaeya raises a brow, “I beg your pardon?”
Lisa smiles sharply, “My darling [Name] is an astute judge of character. It’s one of the reasons I adore her so much. Like you, she also knows her way with words. The more you talk while she listens, the more she compares the character she sees in your eyes and the persona that speaks with your lips. If they don’t match up, she will consider you to be too dangerous.”
For a moment, the Cavalry Captain felt his eyes darken defensively. A second later, they return to being detachedly bemused.
The Witch of Purple Rose catches the slip but does not comment about it. In fact, she willingly closes her eyes to let the man have his moment. However, she did continue to speak her piece.
“You’re not a bad guy,” she states, “and she knows that well. However, [Name] is the type who does not like to converse with people that refuse to respect the weight of the words they speak.”
A beaming smile is given by the librarian as she pats her colleague on his shoulder.
“Try speaking a little more honestly! It might earn you some brownie points.” She said.
Kaeya wanted to claim he is not going to bother and that he will just leave it at that. Alas, it seems he had found his match and could not resist your allure. In the end, he nodded before taking his leave.
To Lisa’s credit, her advice worked.
Obviously, Kaeya did not lay everything out in the open; but he became more sincere in his efforts to befriend you. To his pleasant surprise, you may be taciturn and reserved but it did not make you shy at all. If anything, you were quite bold for a pretty little damsel. He playfully flirted with you a few times and you were barely fazed. You even flirted back with teasing glances and fleeting touches that—he was impressed to admit—flustered him in shock. Your dollface can be deceiving as well. He had seen you pettily tattle to Lisa about patrons that give you a hard time. In turn, the mage trusts you to be the one to remind her of anyone who is late on their book returns. Thus, he watched you just peacefully sip tea while your employer terrorized the poor souls that earned her wrath with an innocent smile.
You rewarded the Cavalry Captain’s honest efforts by opening up to him a little.
It is here that Kaeya learned you were mute.
The cause was a very unfortunate birth defect when you were born prematurely. Your vocal chords did not grow correctly and almost suffocated you. The doctors were forced to remove it entirely via surgery so you can survive. Growing up, you became quite the bookworm because of this disability. You found solace in the immersion of reading the words you can never speak. It gradually turned you into a very talented scholar worthy of Lisa’s attention. Your nurturing ways with books and your preservation of comfort amidst the silence certainly gained merits.
Of course, your reserved nature did not mean you are to be underestimated.
The Witch of Purple Rose chose you as her personal assistant and sole substitute for a reason. It can be argued that you are potentially more frightening. You are the calm before the storm; and when you strike, no one ever sees it coming. Whenever hooligans think they can just steal books from the restricted section, every single one will be found hogtied and gagged on the Knights of Favonius’ doorsteps. A damsel you may appear but the only distress that can be felt is by the drunkards, who think they can harrass you without direct consequences. In fact, you made it your personal vendetta to discipline every member of Barbara’s fanclub and their stalker tendencies. A failure to comply forces them into public humiliation by wearing nun attires, and then prostrating themselves in front of Barbatos to beg for forgiveness.
Venti had an interesting view when he woke up from his nap on the statue’s hands.
The job of Cavalry Captain became that much more entertaining, and easier too.
Public ordinance is now easy to handle for all the patrolling knights, whom often need to tread lightly just to appease the common folks. Although the Acting Grandmaster would never say it outloud due to her soft nature, she was thankful for this subtle measures you have been making—especially in regards to her sister’s privacy and safety. Even the stoic Master Diluc seems to respect you since he actually makes effort to greet you more than he does any other stranger in the streets. Your drinks in Angel’s Share are discounted too, which is always a plus after a long day of work. Lisa took advantage of this perk just to tease.
As he got to know you, Kaeya finally arrived to a profoundly frightening conclusion.
He was falling in love with you.
No, he may have already fallen the moment you had turned into his newest fixation. The icy captain can recall Lisa’s words—how you judge people based on the character in their eyes, if it matches the persona that speaks. You actually looked at him and saw him with just a single glance; and when his words blurred the truth, his facade was already unraveling before your piercing gaze. You rejected him because he was denying the lost boy you see, and you embraced him when the charismatic captain found felicity in your companionship. You accepted both sides even if you knew nothing about either of them.
However, for all his clever ways in manipulating the feelings of others, Kaeya is powerless at the face of his own emotions.
Hence, the reasonable thing in his perspective is to simply run away from you.
It hurt you but it was something you also understood quite well. As mentioned, you were aware of Kaeya’s true character from the get-go. It was fine if this is really what he wants. You both lived your lives just fine when keeping your respective secrets. That should not change just because romantic feelings are now involved.
Lisa and your friends firmly believed otherwise.
Your doting older sister figure tells you one day that the elusive captain left a message. He says to meet him in Windrise, where Jean had put him on patrol for suspicious activity of the Abyss Order. In a twist of fate nobody expected, they even managed to get Diluc involved to make the information appear to be legitimate. The redhead claims he was getting sick of Kaeya's face brooding over you in Angel’s Share.
All else, as they say, was history when you were both given a chance to confront the truth together.
Now, Kaeya watches over your sleeping form on his bed—tuckered out from today’s work.
You are curled up to his chest, nuzzling his clavicle like a kitten. A delightful shiver ran through his spine every time your warm breaths hit his skin. Your left arm is draped over his waist while your right hand rested over his chest. His own arm cushions your head, bent by the elbow to poise himself up while he ran his fingers through your hair. The other one holds you close by the waist, legs intertwined so no space remains. The moonlight peeks through the curtains, basking you in afterglow that left him mesmerized every night. Leaning down, his lips tenderly kissed your brow as his embrace tightened possessively.
He grins as he felt your fingers move drowsily on his back, crumpling the blouse.
“Why are you watching me sleep?”
You drew special patterns to speak, blinking your eyes open to stare blankly at your lover.
He chuckles, bending down to give you an eskimo kiss while tracing words on your back as well.
“You look too beautiful to be true.”
You hummed in the form of a soft exhale, observing your beloved closely. Your hand leaves his back and reached up to his face, tucking his fringe behind his ear to see both of his eyes. It no longer concerns him to let you see his normally hidden eye, which flickered for a fraction of a second. He disclosed everything long ago. He has nothing else to hide, not from you at least—never again from you.
In fact, the language you were both using to silently communicate is from Khaenri'ah.
Kaeya invented the sign language of it and taught it to you. In public, people think it is just a cute secret between couples; but you knew better. There is a power in words, and Kaeya had entrusted you this in particular—a piece of his true self that only you can keep. Not even Diluc knew this much about him, as their bond of brotherhood shattered before he could make an attempt. Henceforth, you use this sign to talk with him privately and send messages only for your dear captain to decipher.
As you caressed his cheek, Kaeya sighed in perfect bliss. He leans towards your touch, turning his head to press a loving kiss on your palm. His own hand reached up to keep it in place. Delicately, his index finger traces another message on your knuckles.
“You’re not just a sweet dream, are you?”
Your eyes softened in understanding, smiling in hopes to alleviate his insecurities. Your hand directs his to your heart, much like how your other one stays above his own. Two hearts beat as one, delivering a mutual confession beknownst only to you and him.
Your lips moved and his unique eyes read them as if they held the meaning of life.
“I’m real, and I’m yours.”
Unable to help himself, Kaeya changes positions to loom over you. He pins your hands by the wrist on either sides of your head. You let him, locking eyes to wait until he regains his anchor to reality. As he straddles you, he leans down and his scarred eye glows with an unknown power. For a moment, the star in his misty blue orb sharpened into a slit. Then, his grip eventually loosens. Your arms soon take the chance to slither around his neck. You pull him down to your level, sensually slow to leave him in intense anticipation. Once he is a mere breath away, you lean up and forward.
Kaeya never fails to find sanctuary in your embrace, and salvation in your kiss. The taste of ambrosia is as addictive as the first time. He wanted more—needed more, even if it meant unequivocal demise.
One of his hands seeks one of yours, pressing against the mattress to interweave. A final message is traced as you both succumb to the passion that has waged wars since the dawn of creation.
“I love you.”
If the day of reckoning ever comes for him, the last hope of Khaenri'ah knows he does not stand alone.
Kaeya will always remember to seek out your light, and savor the hour of respite in your shadow. He holds faith in no god nor archon; but before you, he shall bend the knee in devoted worship.
This lost prince of sinners may be predestined for damnation, but he prays in your name—
“You are my northern star, the light that guides me back home.”
VENTI is a bard whose secrets are guarded by the lullabies of yesteryore and evermorrow. He holds the face of jubilant youth, yet his eyes tell a tale as old as time. While his voice mellifluously sings of tunes so spirited and free, his heart weighs heavy with the burden of an untold sacrilege. A couple thousand years can be a long time, yet the agony remains as fresh as the memories of a lucid dream. As he dons a smile that hopes to brighten the days and luminate the nights of Mondstadt, his soul belies the image of a nameless friend long gone. At times when the winds blew too coldly, he relies on the burning heat that drips down his throat—a taste so fine yet so bitter, like the freedom he idolizes.
Memories remind people what matters most, a life’s purpose to never forsake. However, more often than not, they come with the cruel regrets of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Henceforth, in tiresome days, the expense of living gets a little too much; and in sleepless nights, the weight of existing gets a little heavier.
Alas, when stars align just right, the wind will lead a pair of soulmates to find one another.
In Venti’s case, you found him.
It is actually very difficult to get him drunk, even if he acts otherwise. To be precise, he recovers quicker by getting sober minutes after he felt tipsy—and then, he would be downing another bottle. It is annoying for someone who just wants to forget his problems, but that is partially why he became accustomed to binge drinking. His rate of alcohol consumption would kill an average human, via alcohol poisoning, by the time he actually blacks out.
Amidst this cold and lonely night, the windborn bard was spared an ounce of warmth by a kind muse.
Venti woke up in a peculiar cottage that smelled of pollen and varnished wood. He heard the chirping of bluebirds, rousing him further away from his drowsy haze. A ray of sunshine peeks through the hanging cheap fabric used as curtains. He sits up, braids all messy with a very entangled bedhead.
As he stumbled out of the bedroom, the familiar sounds of Der Frühling beckoned him to the front porch. His veteran ears can attest that the notes are undoubtedly produced by a musician's hands, but a mere novice in the ways of the lyre. There was a harmonious flow in melody, yet the tone and pitch held little to no finesse in-between transitions. A sense of sheepish uncertainty distorts the song, but there was a certain charm in its dissonance.
He turns a corner, and there he saw you—
—a young dame sat upon a rickety swing, taming the bluebirds that sang for her strings.
The amused bard leaned against the doorway to watch the free show. His gleaming teal eyes stared blatantly, mesmerized by his supposed hostess. You wore an outfit that resembled his, but more modest and somewhat mismatched in color palette—an odd choice for a fellow bard. The only flashy thing about you is the Anemo Vision pinned onto your hair as it tied up your headband braid. It functioned as a hair ornament surrounded with cecilia and windwheel aster petals. A teal silk ribbon was mixed into your braid as its curled tail fluttered under your Vision ornament.
You seem to be inexperienced with the lyre, as Venti had confirmed upon seeing your performance; but you are still quite precise in your play. In theory, you hold enough knowledge to figure out which note works for a particular measure. Before he realized it, his own voice begins humming alongside the chirps of the gathered songbirds.
Alas, joining your small choir of avian creatures had startled them into flying away.
You also stiffened with a surprised jolt, practically snapping your head to look back at him. He does note that it was the birds’ exit that had shocked you, and not his soundly abrupt entrance.
“Ehe~!” Venti giggled nervously, “Sorry about that.”
You fumbled for a moment yet held the lyre firmly, careful to keep it steady. Standing up, you then walk over to him even though you shook in anxiety. Ever so tenderly, you returned his dearest Der Frühling as if handing over a precious baby.
Venti finds this heartwarming and endearing, having not met a fellow bard as considerate as you. He thus receives his lyre with gratitude, tracing its frame and plucking the strings. He marvels at the fact you even polished the instrument and retuned the strings.
“Many thanks, fellow bard~!” He chirped, “My name is Venti. May I know yours?”
You stared blankly at him for a moment, as if taking a few minutes to decipher his words. He spoke a little too quickly on purpose, patiently observing if you would prove his suspicions. As soon as you finally understood, you replied with some stutters in-between your syllables. It seemed more like a sound of uncertainty rather than a speech impediment.
“I-I am…[Name].”
A deaf virtuoso—the windborn bard believes you will make an interesting friend.
Ever since that day, Venti developed a habit of either visiting your abode or seeking you to hang out in the city. His consistent presence helped you be more comfortable in conversations. There was little to no stutters in-between your sentences now. As a bard whom prided himself in knowing all music of the past and future, the art of sign language is a helpful skill he utilized to pleasantly astound you.
The bard had never seen any mortal beam so bright when you smiled at him that day.
While you have gotten comfortable with him, Venti has also grown comfortable with you. There have been many incidents wherein his smiling mask just naturally came down around you. By your side, he felt more freedom than he has ever experienced in the past centuries. He knew it was dangerous to let this continue. The god in disguise has always been meticulously aware of his own feelings; and he was more than aware that he is falling for a mortal he will someday outlive.
However, he found you hard to resist.
Neither Venti nor Barbatos can hope to deny your profoundly unconditional love. What kind of god could reject such a heartfelt offering?
Despite your penchant for playing any available instrument, you preferred not to take center stage. In fact, your hidden knack for taming avian creatures is how you earn a daily living. Every songbird in the City of Freedom knows your tunes and can chirp them on command. This is due to your Anemo Vision, which has a unique ability that enables you to interact with the birds by means of frequency. Depending on how you control the vibrations in the breeze, they will follow like a choir does with a maestro.
You once dedicated a performance to Barbatos and the Four Winds. On that day, Venti heard his wisp brethren amongst the thousand winds croon at you in delight. He witnessed the silhouette of Vennessa’s falcon form hovering above you appraisingly, and a resounding roar can also be heard from Dvalin in his proclaimed lair. There were even the echoing howls of Andrius and his pack in Wolvendom.
This leads him to discover that your true talent lies in writing music. He had seen and read your musical compositions, grinning at every single one. With your permission, he even played a few in your home as payment for your gracious hospitality.
“You can negotiate with bards for this, you know.” He proposed, “I’m no businessman; but even I know letting other musicians play this will earn you a hefty sum of mora.”
You smiled sadly, “N-Nobody…w-would acknowledge music…composed by a deaf girl.” You confessed.
Venti turned solemn as he gazed at you. Although intimidating in its rarity, you are not perturbed by this abrupt change of mood. Your darling bard wears a mask on a daily basis that blurs truth and deceit.
You have become acquainted with them all.
He hummed playfully, “Now that just won’t do.”
You tilt your head confusedly, blinking in surprise when he suddenly takes hold of your hands.
“Ehe~!” He giggled, “Let me play…all of your music, [Name]. In fact, I’ll write…a lyrical ballad…for each of them. We’ll be the best duo…in Mondstadt!”
He had to slow down his speech a bit since he could not use his hands to help you keep up.
Thus, a new routine began for you two.
Venti kept his word. For the next few months, he only sang of the tunes you composed. A few of his regular listeners heard the slightest change in his playstyle. A part of him wished to smile bitterly as other bards and occasional playwrights praised his talent. He pettily made sure to charge thrice from them when he was requested for encores. These fools had rejected you just because of your disability yet they literally sing praises when he played your creations. Any artist worth their salt should have been able to see your potential at a glance.
Nevertheless, he ensured to always come home to you with bags full of mora whenever he plays your music in particular. You deserve nothing less than that, and he refuses to settle for anything else.
Regardless of this success, Venti recognized the melancholy in your eyes. You used to smile radiantly every time you watched him play. Your ears cannot hear the notes but you can feel the vibrations in the air. Your beguiling eyes relished the perfection of just watching Venti play to his heart’s content.
However, he was not blind to your inner turmoil and thus sought to relieve it.
“What’s wrong, Windblume?” He asked.
You hesitate, looking down at your feet. Gently, he props a finger under your chin to raise your head. A tender smile of encouragement implored you to speak your thoughts freely.
“I’m…frustrated.” You replied.
He says nothing but his smile does falter to a glaze of concern, waiting patiently to let you finish.
“I feel…so happy and grateful…when you play my songs.” You confided, “It’s finally being heard…and not just through the songbirds. People are now listening…to how it is supposed to be heard, and how I envisioned it to be played.”
Tears gather in your lovely eyes, overflowing with emotions too much for your heart. Your darling bard does not waver. He raises a hand to cup your cheek in his palm while his fingertips swept your sorrows.
“I want to…” you sobbed, “I want to hear you too!”
Venti held you protectively close, wishing more than anything else to shield you from this wild tempest of emotions. Alas, he was more than aware of the truth that the loveliest of rainbows can only come after the harshest storm. These are the feelings that must have festered for so long within you. People who can hear cruelly turn deaf to the ones whose worlds have been rendered silent. It was as if they do not deserve a voice if they knew not how it sounds. The thought infuriates the bard, reminding him of your beautiful songs discarded as nothing more than the passing chirps of songbirds.
He used his talents to let your ballads be heard.
Perhaps, he can use a different set of talents to let you hear his own?
You gripped onto Venti as if he was your lifeline, a part of you crumbling in sheer relief. He has always encouraged you to never be ashamed of what and how you feel. Whether it be deemed good or bad, all of it belonged to you. They make you human, the reason why he adores you above all. His gentle hand carded through your hair, skillful as when he plucks and strums the strings of Der Frühling. Pulling away slightly, his lips rested upon your temple and then your forehead. They stray towards your cheeks, a taste of salt from your tears.
Lastly, they hover above your own lips—centimeters apart, just a breath before they touch.
Teal eyes glow a shimmering green, both of you becoming enraptured by each other.
Venti needed you to say no more.
He takes you in his arms and spreads his wings. He delivers you to Windrise and its special tree, trusting him so wholly that you did not question him. Instead, you melted in his arms and enjoyed the warm breeze that wrapped around you like a blanket.
Once he sits you down beneath the tree, Venti sits in front of you to place one of your hands right above his heart. It beats steadily yet faintly, present yet not quite—like the wind he controls. He summons Der Frühling and smiles lovingly at you. The crystalflies illuminate his youthful features, providing a mystical glow that enthralls his dearest muse.
“Eyes on me, meine liebe.” He mouths.
Closing his eyes, he begins his private performance.
You frown, wondering what he means to prove with this. Still, you obliged his wishes and kept your eyes solely on him. Your hand remained where he placed it, right over the constant beating of his heart.
Then, you finally noticed the gathering streams of energy around yourself and your lover.
Your Anemo Vision began to glow alongside Venti’s iconic braids. The winds hummed together with him, united under his influence. It is an enchanting image, dazzling you into stunned admiration.
Then, you finally hear him—vocalizing the precious melody you dedicated to him alone. He sang of his past, his present, and his future which are now all intertwined by the whispers of you.
/Gales of song, please stay by my side/
He opens his eyes and releases his lyre. It plays as it floats, and you are mesmerized by how you can hear it all. By power of anemo, he merges your heart with his while enabling your psalm to be immortalized amongst the winds. He reaches up a hand to keep yours on his chest while its pair entangles with the other. His forehead leans on yours, gaze softening as you wept in bliss.
White feathers rained down on the landscape of green and blue. Floating lights illuminated the dark, be they stars or crystalflies. The Statue of the Seven sung in accompaniment to the intimate confessions of Barbatos—to you and for you.
/Winds of love, breathe into my life/
You can hear him so clearly—his regrets, his woes, his dreams, and his love. You hear it all through the song you composed at the thought of him, which he plays at the memory of you.
A fated parting shall occur someday, but he will love no other the way he loves you.
Therefore, with a passionate kiss, he makes you a promise—
“Come what may, you are the melody my heart will always sing.”
DAINSLEIF perseveres as a maverick shaped by his resolutions and driven by conviction. After enduring five centuries, he has earned a fair few titles as his new names. However, these remnants can never piece together his whole existence. As the Twilight Sword, there is no longer a Khaenri'ah to consider as his homeland to protect. As the Bough Keeper, there is no true grace to his purpose while burdened by a curse that shall someday rob him of his own mind and soul. In the eyes of Celestia, he is no more than a sinner doomed to a fate which can be argued as worse than death. As for the rest of the world, he is no more than a listless wanderer whom holds an obsession with stopping a disgrace known as the Abyss Order.
To honor those he had failed in his homeland, he can only move forward in the best way he knew—even if it is against those he had formerly served. Souls of the condemned hold no genuine hope of ascending to Celestia, for they amount to nothing more than heretics that do not worship any god. Therefore, for those who dare to remember, erosion will befall upon them as a final kiss of damnation. Before that day comes for him, this foolish score must be settled so he can meet his demise without regrets.
There is no genuine reward at the end of this tedious and lonesome quest. He is aware.
Nonetheless, the accursed immortal human refuses to falter under the taunt of judgment. If damnation is what shall meet him at the end of this quest, then he shall do it on his own terms. For if he must also end without his resolve, then there will truly be nothing left of him and Khaenri'ah.
There had been instances aplenty wherein the divine is likened to the flowers blossoming across Teyvat; and as a lonesome wanderer, he has grown accustomed to these tragic folklores.
The God of Dust named Guizhong left behind a quiet legacy amongst the glaze lilies. Songs which keep them abloom become tributes to her name.
The Goddess of Flowers known as Nabu Malikata had left her remnants within the padisarahs. Even if not as they were anymore, they serve as a memoir.
Godless they may have been, the glorious nation of Khaenri'ah also held pride over a particular flower—the Inteyvat. Alas, nobody but the former Twilight Sword retains the awareness to recall whom they represent the most.
“My memory has all but faded completely,” a voice murmurs piously, “but I will always remember how much she too loved these flowers.”
Dainsleif spoke not of Lumine here, although she does remind him of the one he reminisces. He dares say travelling with her had been the closest to home, a feeling of warm comfort. However, it never was the same exact happiness he sought in another—a mere ghost in his past. The lost historical relics in Sumeru speak of her as the last Eclipse Princess, whom was hailed as the Heretic Saintess. However, to him, she was the woman he dearly cherishes to this day…
…and the one he laments most for failing to protect in the bout of cataclysmic calamity.
Indeed, the Bough Keeper realizes; this accursed immortality is a fitting punishment for what Celestia deems a sinner. For he can forsake everything, but anything he has left of her will vividly linger. The doomsday of his own reckoning shall be when that too is ripped away from him.
Until then, he will dream of her. Until then, he will foolishly hope for the day they meet again.
Then, like a prayer to a nonexistent god, answers came in the ethereal form of you.
You met Dainsleif on a stormy night. In fact, he just found your cabin in the woods to seek a temporary shelter—injured and knocked unconscious. He was already half-delirious from a high fever, and it did not take a genius to know the man had a rough week. It is not out of kindness that you nursed him back to health, but due to a selfish motive to figure him out.
“Who are you?” You mumbled.
It seems he was not entirely out of it since he still managed to respond clearly.
“Dain…sleif…”
As soon as he muttered back, he eventually fell limp in your arms. For those brief seconds, there was a swelling ache upon your chest—nostalgia. A chilling tingle ran through your spine, like the touch of an invasive ghost on your skin—melancholy. Then, it spreads as smoldering heat to your veins as if to ignite your bloodstream—passion.
“Dainsleif, huh?”
The name felt like velvet on your tongue. His clothes and features were all too familiar to you—a fellow kinsman from Khaenri'ah. However, your eidetic memory never once brought you to a conclusion about this man’s identity. Regardless, your body reacts as if begging for your mind to catch up in recognition.
Even as you tended to him, nothing clicked.
“Your Highness…”
His voice weakly called, raspy and strained as if to choke it out. Your star-shaped pupils dilate as they meet his own hazy glare. His hand was reaching out to you, looking yet not truly seeing.
Alas, you made no move to truly stop him and remained awkwardly staring back.
“You’re dreaming, Sir Dainsleif.”
As if hearing his name from you brought comfort, he settles down again. His eyes start to close but now his hand found yours resting by his bedside. You recoiled yet his grip was oddly firm for a deeply ill patient. Perhaps, you can allow this until he gets some real rest.
When he recovered, Dainsleif vanished as abruptly as he barged into your life.
The next time you met again, it was your turn to be the one in need.
Dainsleif finds you in a clearing of soot and frost, holding a young man desperately. It was as if a clash of fire and ice had occurred under the rain. You look up to him, stars in your eyes shimmering with panic and sorrow. Without a word, he aids you by carrying the unconscious male and leading you back to the cabin. You made no reaction other than grasping onto his cloak tightly, like a lost child.
Despite not wishing to overstay his welcome, the Bough Keeper chose to stay for the night. You were unresponsive to him, as if your mind had shut down completely. A vague memory of a person so similar to you made Dainsleif familiar to the situation. Thus, the task of healing your patient fell to him until you could regain your composure.
“Please be well, Kaeya.” You murmured.
Dainsleif did not pry about your business, giving you the same respect you had done for his privacy. It did, however, astonish him when you took hold of his wrist and dragged him outside with you the next day.
The man named Kaeya stirred awake.
Befuddled, the former Twilight Sword kept silent as he watched from afar with you. Kaeya ate the warm meal you prepared on the table, and mixed emotions flickered in his eyes as he did. His head turned to observe everything in the cabin, searching almost as desperately as you appeared last night. Numerous dreamcatchers and embroideries decorate the walls in a contradictingly systematic manner. The more he analyzed, the more he remembered his childhood—as if your crafts gave him pieces of long forgotten memories. Then, he slowly stood up and made his way to a periwinkle dreamcatcher designed with a pavo ocellus constellation.
A single silver-blue eye gazed out the window, nearly catching your own gaze—
—but you ducked down behind the huge boulders and pulled Dainsleif with you to hide.
Kaeya got his things back and left a small note of gratitude for your care. Wordlessly, he left the cabin with the dreamcatcher now hanging on his belt—right beside his Cryo Vision. He looked back over his shoulder only once to give a bittersweet smile.
“Farewell, sis.” He whispered.
A humming zephyr delivered his message, and then he went back to Mondstadt.
Dainsleif sat down beside you for an entire hour, a mix of pity and empathy. When clarity returned to your eyes, he rose to take his leave. Once again, he was halted on his tracks by your hand grabbing onto his own gloved one.
“Hey,” you said, “do you mind if I go with you?”
Against his better judgment, the cursed immortal agreed after a minute of contemplation.
This newfound journey together has a very tedious beginning, mostly attributed to you. Everything was strange and nothing felt safe, which was expected because you both never stayed in one place. You, whom sought solace in consistency, were always forced to adapt to something new. Sleeping became a chore because you felt every small pebble and thin blade of grass pressing against you. It is by the mere thoughtfulness of your companion that you got a semblance of rest. Dainsleif always covered you in his cape and was willing to hold you soothingly, as if he knows just how to calm you down. There has been moments wherein you had tantrums, and some meltdowns that delayed some plans. Other days, you shut down completely and only wake back up to reality after a day or two.
Dainsleif was shockingly very patient with you, never berating and ready to soothe whenever you are in distress. He never once pushed you to go back. Only once, he offered to take you somewhere to settle after a very bad episode.
“No, I can’t!” You exclaimed, “I have to keep moving. I have to…keep going. Make sure…nobody finds me.”
It was unspoken that you were specifically running away from the City of Freedom, all for avoiding your your younger brother. There is a destiny that kept you both apart even when you mutually wish to be reunited. As children of Khaenri'ah, the former knight can take a guess what that sort of fate presents.
Since then, your travel companion did not question your decision anymore.
Without prompting, Dainsleif seemed used to your symptoms. It was almost eerie how he knew exactly what to say and do in every situation that involved your condition. He makes effort to prepare the same meals that you wish to have every day, and only light fruit snacks at night because you get very restless otherwise. At times he wanted to keep going, he stops himself to make camp for you first on the same evening hour before scouting ahead. He only allows himself to be gone for exactly 45 minutes, which was your limit to being alone whenever you both decide to camp out rather than checking into an inn or hotel. Whenever a wave of unease hits, he keeps a bag of materials that either lets you weave dreamcatchers or tinker an antique you scavenged in the ruins you passed. Every time your mind begins to close off, he sits down with you and holds your hands to meditate. When you need space, he keeps his distance; and when you need companionship, he keeps you close.
“How?” You ask.
Dainsleif raises a brow as he looks down at you. It was in the middle of Lantern Rite as you both watch the festivities from a nearby hill. After indulging in a few stalls, you calmed by playing with his fingers as your head rested on his lap. He knows the meaning to your one-worded inquiry, and he wonders how to answer you truthfully.
“I knew someone similar to you.” He said.
You sat up before blankly staring into his eyes, stars meeting stars. Tilting your head, a flash of curiosity brought light to your emotionless gaze.
“The princess…?” You asked.
The Bough Keeper blinked in surprise.
“You dreamed of her a lot when we first met.”
Your statement made him look away bashfully, a bit embarrassed to be reminded.
“Was she important to you?” You asked.
At this, he looks at you in the eyes. His star-shaped pupils practically gleam with an emotion you could not read—or perhaps, could not comprehend.
“She is my dearest one.” He declared.
Normal people probably would have felt jealous at that confession. He even used a present tense to show that his feelings have not wavered.
You and Dainsleif never gave a label to this peculiar relationship, but you hold a mutual understanding that it had grown to more than just friends. It was a development nurtured by meaningful exchanges and secretive affections. The sentiments are far from platonic or familial, that much is sure.
That night, when you released a lantern, you made a fleeting wish—
—not to the gods, but to the princess.
“Please look after Dainsleif.”
Meanwhile, the Twilight Sword fondly gazes upon your form. The image of your past self overlaps with the present. He recalls the ever sleepless nights of guarding you in the tower. Starlight showered upon your figure leaning by the windowframe. Delicate hands reach out to set free artificial crystalflies that glow as wisps of moonlight. A breath of laughter is echoed in the lonely room, and then he is blessed by a smile more divine than Celestia.
The memory flickers as the silver starlights are replaced by golden lanterns, and your humble self stood in place of the estranged saintess—
—but that smile remains.
Morning welcomed Dainsleif with the strange sight of you looming over him. With practiced ease, he resumes calm as he let you do as you please like it was nothing unusual. He knows of your quirks just as you are aware of his boundaries. There is mutual trust of consent that tells which actions would be acceptable anytime. He did gulp a little nervously as his drowsy eyes analyzed you. His hands twitched but he willed them to stay in place despite his inner yearning.
Disheveled, you were straddling him while still in your nightgown. Your hair was messily draped over your shoulders, creating a curtain around the blond man beneath you. A glazed veil engulfs your eyes like a dreamy countenance of a faraway reverie.
“Dain…”
“What is it, [Name]?”
“I had a dream last night.”
“A dream, you say?”
You nod, leaning down almost conspirationally yet the expression on your face remains unreadable. A gasp hitched in his throat as your lips strayed to his ear, whispering shakily—
“I remember, Dain.”
Realization struck him.
Dainsleif switches positions with you yet he receives no protest. His ungloved hands cup your face in order to meet your eyes with his own beseeching pair. You see his visage, unmasked and vulnerable, that longingly wish for your approval.
You nodded.
Dainsleif claims your lips in ardent greed, and you responded in eager devotion.
Intertwined, redamancy is bliss for the reunited knight and his only princess—
“Your heart is the only other half that can ever complete mine.”
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sporesgalaxy · 2 months
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wanna be clear that like I get WANTING to engage with stuff that you cant bring yourself to engage directly with. For most of my life, my OCD made it nigh impossible for me to engage with most horror, or anything with sexual themes/violence. There's games with themes and messages that sound amazing, that I feel wouldn't be a complete experience if I don't play them myself, and that I know I won't ever play. I ravenously enjoy other people's discussion and analyses of these things, but I know I'll never know everything I want to without experiencing it for myself. And either someday I manage to pull through and do it myself, or I just live in secondhand fascination.
Argh, I'm trying to explain why I don't find this depressing because it just sounds depressing!!!!!! But it's not!!!!! It's the beautiful ephemerality of experiencing art!!! It's intense appreciation for every piece of art you HAVE experienced, and how impossible to imitate those experiences all were!!!!!!!!!!! It's Courtly Love for a piece of art!!!!!!!!!!!!
And I know I've talked a lot about robbed experiences, but on principle I DO see value in every way a person can uniquely experience art. But I can still have a preference based on my OTHER principles....and that preference is really just consuming the source material for fan work at SOME point, the ORDER isn't even that important to me, I just think it's always worth the effort to understand things as fully as possible. I'm talking in circles again. Thanks for listening to me philosphize about art for the 20th time
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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 3 months
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Galileo Galilei Main Story
Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.
TW: Violence
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Man with purple eyes: "........."
A man was putting bright red petals into his mouth, where crimson flowers covered the pure white garden.
The sight was strangely beautiful and ephemeral, and I stood there frozen, unable to look away.
Man with purple eyes: "........."
Eventually, the red flowers fell from his lips to his hands, and he blinked his eyes slowly and gazed at me.
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Man with purple eyes: "What are you doing here?"
(What?)
For a moment, I was stunned into silence.
It was as if a character from the painting I was observing had suddenly spoken to me, and my mind struggled to catch up.
Mitsuki: "U-Um, I..."
I stumbled over my words, and the man approached, taking hold of my wrist.
Mitsuki: "Ah..."
Man with purple eyes: "Answer the question."
Man with purple eyes: "Why are you here?"
His touch sent shivers down my spine, and his gaze pierced like needles.
The fleeting atmosphere had dissipated, and quiet anger emanated from him.
(He seems totally different from before. Is he really the same person?)
But it was definitely him who was eating the flowers.
Confusion washed over me as I glimpsed the two contrasting faces within such a short span.
Mitsuki: "I'm sorry for intruding! Excuse me!"
I shook off his hand and hastily ran away from the spot.
Man with purple eyes: ".........."
The man watched Mitsuki's retreating figure intently.
Then he heard a light voice.
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???: "That surprised me. Isn't she the girl who lives in the mansion?"
The man who arrived in the garden had a half-up hairstyle.
Man with purple eyes: "Seems like it."
???: "Did you bring her here by any chance? You're surprisingly quick, Galileo."
Galileo: "Is that supposed to be a joke, Drake?"
The man named Galileo glared at the other man.
Drake: "Yeah, yeah, I'll stop joking."
Drake: "But if you really met her by chance, then maybe that means something."
Drake: "She might really be that fated woman after all."
Galileo: "........."
Drake plucked a single pure white flower at his feet and toyed with it with his fingers while leaning against the wall.
Drake: "It seems like those resurrected vampires have really stirred up some chaotic yet amusing fate."
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Galileo: "Then that girl showed up."
Galileo gazed again in the direction Mitsuki had left.
Drake: "She may have a harmless, innocent face like a fawn, but her involvement might change fate once again."
Drake: "If she becomes a hindrance in the long run, wouldn't it be better to just kill her now?"
Galileo: "No."
Galileo objected to Drake's dangerous proposal.
Galileo: "We haven't yet determined who that girl really is."
Galileo: "We shouldn't bury her in darkness before touching the truth."
Galileo: "Everything depends on unraveling the truth."
As if to emphasize that point, Galileo uttered the word "truth" more profoundly.
Drake glanced at his profile for a moment and let out a small sigh.
Drake: "I get it. I respect your opinion."
Drake: "But it’d be troublesome if they started suspecting us."
Drake: "For instance, the true identity of this flower. Did she notice something about it?"
Galileo: "Who knows? It's unclear unless we directly question her."
With those words, Galileo turned his back to the garden, and Drake watched him disappear into the depths of the building.
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Drake: "Perhaps another fate has started moving again."
Drake muttered to himself and dropped the flower he had been holding onto the ground.
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I hurriedly ran away from the mysterious garden and finally arrived at the mansion.
(That man, was he a resident of the building?)
(Well, I did trespass, so it's only natural for him to be mad at me.)
Taking a moment to calm down, I realized it was understandable for him to confront me like that.
Sighing, I stepped into the entrance and reflected on my actions.
Arthur: "You're finally back. Welcome home, Mitsuki."
Mozart: "Geez, you're always making us worry."
Mitsuki: "I'm back. Did something happen?"
Mozart: "Well, we were just talking about picking you up since Sebastian mentioned that you were coming back later than expected."
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Arthur: "It's dangerous for a girl to be walking around at night."
Napoleon: "You didn’t seem quite yourself before you left. Are you okay?"
Mitsuki: "Ah..."
Napoleon gently patted my head.
(Right. I was feeling lost after hearing from Comte that I still wouldn't be able to return to my world.)
(They really cared about me.)
The warmth coming from his hands and seeing all the faces waiting for me warmed my heart.
(Just having everyone here makes me feel so relieved.)
(My life here is truly irreplaceable.)
I sometimes thought about my former world, but everyone in the mansion was like family to me.
Seeing the people in front of me, I was reminded again to cherish this precious time with them and make more memories.
Napoleon: "Mitsuki, is something wrong?"
Mitsuki: "No, I just felt relieved seeing everyone's faces."
Mitsuki: "I'm sorry for worrying you. And thank you."
Mitsuki: "I'm really glad to have met all of you."
I spoke sincerely, expressing the emotions welling up inside me.
As I expressed my emotions openly, everyone seemed slightly surprised before smiling.
Arthur: "Hey, Mitsuki, if you say things like that out of the blue, you'll embarrass me."
Mitsuki: "Hehe. I just wanted to convey my feelings properly."
Mozart: "It's not bad when you express your feelings so straightforwardly like that."
Arthur: "Wow, Mozart is giving compliments!"
Mozart: "I just said what I honestly thought."
I chuckled, seeing them playfully teasing each other.
Napoleon: "Sebastian already prepared dinner. Let's go."
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Mitsuki: "Okay!"
We headed to the dining room and had our usual lively dinner.
Eventually, the night grew late, and the crescent moon shone brightly in the sky.
Mitsuki: "Phew, what a day."
I changed into my nightwear and settled into the soft bed.
Suddenly, the scent of the soap coming from the sheets grazed my nose, triggering memories of the mysterious garden.
(The scent of those flowers was more vibrant and intense.)
(I still don't know what kind of flowers they were.)
And then another memory surfaced.
(His purple eyes.)
(It felt like I had wandered into a different world at that moment.)
The image of that man with his fleeting yet chillingly cold touch was vividly etched in my mind.
(I'll probably never see him again.)
(I worried everyone today. Maybe I should make some apology snacks for tomorrow.)
As I thought about fudge, chocolate, crepes, and everyone's favorite snacks, my eyelids grew heavier, and my consciousness drifted away.
Deeper and farther into the dream, where time and place were unknown一
Girl: “*pant* *pant*”
Father: “This way, hurry! We need to run!”
In a dense and lush forest, “I” desperately ran hand in hand with my father as something terrifying chased us.
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Father: “Hurry, or the hunters will catch up to us!”
After what felt like forever, we found an old, dilapidated shack where we hid while holding our breath.
Girl: "Papa, I'm tired and thirsty."
Father: "I'm sorry. I never meant to put you through this."
(Why? Why are we being chased?)
(Neither I nor Dad did anything wrong, so why?)
At that moment, the silence was broken by a loud noise as several men dressed in cloaks came into the hut.
Vampire Hunter: "Found you, you monsters."
Father: "Please, spare us. Neither I nor my daughter have harmed anyone. We just want to live quietly, that's all!"
My father held me tightly, shielding me from the hunters, but...
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Father: "Gaah!!"
Girl: "Papa! Aaah!"
The hunter, who had thrown my father aside, seized me by the hair, thrusting the terrifyingly sharp tip of his sword against my throat.
Father: "Please, at least spare my daughter! She's done nothing wrong! She was simply born as a dhampir!"
Vampire hunter: "This girl also carries the blood of vampires. You both are abominable creatures that should not exist in this world."
(Abominable creatures?)
Vampire hunter: "In the name of God, I will make you and your father disappear!"
The man's raised sword gleamed under the moonlight streaming through the window.
Father: "Stop, don't kill my daughter. Please, stop!!"
Then the cruel gleam tore through my vision, and everything turned red before me.
Mitsuki: "!!!"
At that moment, I jolted awake in bed.
Frantically looking around, I realized I was not in a forest or a cabin but in my familiar room.
Mitsuki: "*pant, pant* A dream?"
Even though I understood it was a dream, my hands were shaking and my forehead was drenched in sweat.
(What was that dream just now?)
In my dream, I was a little girl, and both me and my father were chased, caught, and killed.
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Mitsuki: "That was terrifying."
My pounding heart reassured me that I was indeed alive.
But the suffocation, the fear of being chased, the feel of the sword against me, and the smell of blood—all of them were so vivid that they made me tremble again.
(Why did I have such a dream?)
I tried calming myself down by embracing myself, but I couldn’t go back to sleep anymore.
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Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part
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messy-gemini1 · 10 months
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Hellsing incorrect quotes :)
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*at a zoo* Alucard: What are they in for? Reader: Alucard, this isn't prison. Alucard: So they can leave? Reader: No, but- Alucard, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone. ______
Reader: So, are you two friends? Seras: Yes. Alucard: No. ______
Integra: Why is it when something happens it always you three!? Alucard, Seras and Reader standing in her office looking down. Reader: Believe me, Sir Integra, I've been asking myself the same question for six years ______
Reader running into the room: Walter, I screwed up, big time. Walter: , given your daily life experiences, you’re gonna have to be more specific. ______
Reader, laying in bed: Get out of my room. Alucard, standing just outside of the door frame: I’m not in your room. _____
Reader: We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare. Seras: Scrabble? Scrabble’s great. Reader: Not when you’re playing with Alucard, it’s not. They put words like “ephemeral” and I put “dog.” _____
Integra: Today, Reader said a swear word, so Alucard said that they were going to wash Reader's mouth out with soap. Reader replied, “It’s okay, I like the taste of soap”. Turns out, they’ve been putting soap on their lips to blow bubbles. _____
Walter: Are you drunk? Reader: Only on the spirit of Christmas! Seras: And the spirit of whisky. ______ Walter: Dammit, Reader, you ruined everything! Reader: You’re welcome. ______ Integra: Where have you been all day? Reader: Oh, just dealing with things way beyond my maturity level. ______
Alucard: I can’t believe we have to be stuck in this room together! Reader, swallowing the key: Truly unfortunate. _____ Reader: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun. :3
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theerurishipper · 4 months
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Hi~ Hope you have a lovely day. I want to get your opinions on my rant lol and ask.
Marinette is such a disappointment of a lead female character in a western magical girl cartoon. She isn't a good leader and all her team consist of yes men and women and sidekick Chat Noir where her real partner Alya is standing over to the side. I liked her in the first two season and maybe some in s3 but the s4 and onward just got to me ngl. It's her world and we're all just living in it. Miraculous is so weird when it comes to team dynamics because I get she's guardian but I really wished it were someone else and not her because she chooses people she already get along great with. It fun for team dynamics to add be different and broader.
The whole she's just 14 the fandom spouts only goes so far how many messes do you do until you realise you need to own up to them even at that age when you should know better on your conduct ?
I get it hard to communicate but onwards I always thought the bigger of the two in the conflict was her because of her secrecy and her controlling tendencies. I disliked it so much in the ephemeral episode and her betraying her partner disgusted me. Sorry to those who like or defend her character this much but I can't stan or like a character that does this much crap to a friend let alone a love interest and then gloss over or minimize it and not be called out for it. Like, are people standards that low they think she's a good leader or a good proper representation on feminism when this show reeks of misogyny and misandry. She's the ultimatum voice for Astruc.
A communication issue with her Chat was fine a long time ago but now in s5 she crossed it hell nah how do people still support a ship with her knowing she followed Hawkmoth command for Adrien. I literally can't anymore with this show. Every guy she likes gotta be so 100 percent in effort and like in the Shadybug special him always comforting her makes me so jaded whenever she cries what about a change in dynamics had we ever seen her comfort him in turn how are people invested in this ship? Like that time in the bench and she just thought of ways to woo or give presents instead of just comforting him is so sad to watch.
She really followed in Master Fu steps. The bar is in hell and she crossed it in the finale. There is no excuse no handwaving it away and i know in my heart they gonna minimize it for Adrien own good. Everything is for his own good huh? What good is it rooting for a ship that just reeks of pity points. Like, she was never my favorite but who knew 8 years ago she'd pull a stunt like this and people bending over and doing mental gymnastics to rationalise this insanity. She really is a good foil to Gabriel ironically to bad she has no sway in this family drama we call the Agreste.
I know she has good intentions and it's not wrong for her to wish to save her prince but like thats all that is intention. Her actions are also important and the effects she's done is so bad that if she weren't the Main character and we haven't spent the chunk of the majority in her pov alone she'd be disliked.
I feel like compared to other respective series Winx Club s1-3 Bloom, Danny Phantom, Ben 10, Totally Spies they have it much more harder and so many more all show the consequences of your actions and how you do them right and they're her age. I feel like whenever someone bring up consequences it's like people in this particular fandom think we do it to punish Marinette but no I just never ever saw it properly done in this show because she's very coddled in the narrative. I don't see other MC as coddled as her before in a show where when they MESS UP it's actually integral and important.
Rant over.
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You encapsulated all my thoughts perfectly, anon. I've said so many times before that I loved Marinette from Season 1-3 and even during Season 4 as it aired. What made me fall out of love with her character post Season 4 was the utter lack of acknowledgement of her actions and the insistence in portraying her as in the right at all times. Like you said, it's not just your intentions that matter. Your actions and the effects that they have on the people around you also matter. The writers don't seem to understand this, and it hits Marinette's character worst of all. She had so much potential to be such a great character, which is why I feel so sad seeing just how badly the writing failed her. Marinette deserved better.
Thank you for your ask!
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theinnerunderrain · 6 months
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Fleeting Love [Gojo Satoru x Reader]
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Warnings: none? Angst kinda, Satoru is still hungover over first love; in flop era
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Ephemeral - lasting for a very short time.
You were fully conscious that Gojo Satoru's sentiments towards you were sporadic. A phenomenon that would flourish in the darkest hours of the late night, only to fall apart in an instant during the daytime.
Delicate grazes of his soft lips across your neck as he speaks his words of "I love you." In the depth of the late night, he connects with you, his large hands wrapping around yours as he quietly confesses his feelings. Each time he moves his hips, the lingering odour of his white locks invades your senses and strands of hair brushing against your cheeks. You were the sole recipient of his admiration, affection, and love.
At least that is what you would like to believe.
You're a fool for permitting yourself to disintegrate and succumb beneath Satoru Gojo's declarations. You knew that everything he said about your dark locks and piercing eyes were nothing but adulation. You knew his feelings for you were never genuine, and that they were always focused elsewhere. It felt as though his ocean-filled eyes were penetrating completely through you, yet they never appeared to be peering at you squarely. It seemed like he was searching for someone else—someone who was of greater significance than you.
His one and only.
The one he is perpetually in love with and will remain so for eternity. Perhaps you may have gone so far as to refer to this man as a curse—a persistent scourge on Satoru's life.
Suguru Geto.
An accessory that of Satoru's and your early years, a spectre that bridges the disparity between you and your love and serves as a remembrance of your adolescence. You momentarily emerged from your reverie, your brown eyes meeting Gojo's sapphire ones, and another kiss settled upon your lips.
“What are you thinking about?”
With a look of curiosity that eventually turns into a subtle smirk, Satoru asks.
“Must be important if you're ignoring the Satoru Gojo.”
His remarks make you chuckle a little bit, and you never find his haughtiness to be any less amusing.
“..Ah, nothing. I must have been blanked out for no reason.”
You reply, feeling Gojo shift somewhat and press you into the couch before leaning over you and planting another, longer kiss on your lips. His strong fingers encircled your waist as your chests were placed in close contact to one another. The way you melted in his embrace and the way your heart races, you nearly wonder if he could be sensing that? Who knows.
“Well, whatever it is. You should be focused on me.”
With a gentle huff, he kissed you on the lower part of your throat, sending electrifying surges throughout your whole body. You could tell what he wanted when you noticed his one hand go from your waist and slightly slide under your shirt.
Maybe this situation is simply a fleeting phenomenon. Maybe this is merely an idyllic fantasy from which you longed to never awaken. Maybe Satoru saw just Geto in you, or it's possible he never noticed you at all.
But so what?
Even if it's only a momentary spark of love brought about by the attraction that exists between bodies that isn't intended to survive long, you'll take it. After all, you continued to have a chance to win his love now that Geto was out of the way, right?
Even if his love for you was ephemeral.
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anticmiscellaney · 1 year
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no pressure to answer and im sorry if you've said this before but where did the title new/old/rare come from?
It's named after a very average record label compilation that I bought way back in 2002 because it included a song I couldn't get anywhere else by a band I used to go see all the time. I always liked the title and it seemed appropriate for this project for a range of thematic reasons, but also Blueline Medic came from a band called Caustic Soda, who wrote a song called Photocopied, which was the first song I successfully turned into visual artwork, and I discovered Jawbreaker from the sticker on the bass guitar when I saw that video on Rage one night as a teenager, and then when I finally saw Jawbreaker in April 2022 I came home and wrote this comic about Louis seeing them in March 1996, which led to me figuring out the overall story of what had up until then just been a series of loosely connected drawings.
Before everything was available on the internet, releases being old or rare often meant you couldn't get them, you might not ever hear/see them, and new releases may take months or even years to become available to you. Part of being into film and music was searching, archiving, collecting, sharing, bootlegging, waiting, and speculating. These days I likely wouldn't have to buy a whole CD just to hear one song. Smalltime local band singles are available on Bandcamp, not just at their shows. Archives of old or niche films are often hosted on streaming sites, or even lovingly restored and rereleased. This is all cool and I enjoy it, but it's new. Please remember that it's new, that in my relatively short lifetime it has changed hugely.
People have always cared and now it's so much easier to share these things, but there's still value in things being tied to times and places, in parts of life being ephemeral and transitory. I think you need external markers of times in your life that you can revisit or avoid as you choose, otherwise you'll end up adrift. Something being rare or limited isn't always bad; of course we don't get to experience everything we'd like to and it's important to pursue and value what you can. I pursued live music single-mindedly from when I was 12 or 13 until I moved overseas at 19, and while I've never stopped going to see bands or being very into music, that particular time of my life was unique. I can't replicate it and I don't want to because as much as I joke I've not changed (and wear band t-shirts I bought in 2001), I'm not the same person. I still remember though.
This story is partly about the balance between digging through the past and making space in your life for new things, about handling change and choosing what to let go, what to archive, what to keep, what to keep looking for. It's also literally about music and film.
Most of the places I used to go are gone now of course, and most of the bands have broken up and moved on. I'm gone too, I live on the other side of the world, but I like to put references in my work. I guess it's my way of saying this happened and it was important to me, these things other people made, those places, that time, they were small and brief but they mattered and I remember. Some things don't come back and all you have is memories of them, but sometimes bands who broke up in 1990 do a reunion show and you score a ticket.
Don't count on it though. Enjoy what you can when you have it, and if you miss it, don't dwell too much. Looking for the next thing to be excited and intrigued by is the best way to find it.
In the comic linked above, when Neil says they'll have a chance to see Jawbreaker together soon, he's wrong: Jawbreaker broke up a few months later and didn't play again until 2017. I think they would have gone together then though, I think they both remembered.
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kisilinramblings · 10 months
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I don't know if you've seen the last two final episode yet but if you have, any thought?
I actually like it?
Sure, I was disappointed that Chat Noir didn't join up the fight. At the same time, I understand Adrien's reasons for not turning into Chat Noir in order to break himself free.
Not only was he hunted by the nightmare of him as Anti-Chat killing everything he cared about, but he was very self-aware at how emotionnally vulnerable he was to be akumatized and making that nightmare come true. This season made him realized he can be so angry to the point of he wants to cataclysm people. It almost happened with both Darker Owl AND Dark Humor this season. Adrien backing off, remaining in "prison" and taking off his Miraculous so Plagg put it in safety for the time being was not him giving up. It was him trying to protect his loved ones. And he was also unaware this was a Monarch attack going on that needed Chat Noir.
Also, everything was made so Adrien doesn't find out for now that his father was Monarch. I don't consider Marinette was in the right even if Gabriel asked her to make sure Adrien doesn't learn the truth. And unbestknown to Gabriel, his dying request landed exactly on Marinette's nightmare territory. Remember the nightmare she had at the beginning. In it, Marinette accidentaly "kills" Gabriel after vanquishing him, right under Adrien's eyes which upset him, asking her why did she did this to his father.
So all ingredients seem to be there for this secret to come back to bite them if it is ever discover. The fact Gabriel has a statue, even if it built on a lie, means that something of him remains even if he is gone. And lately, we have seen that statues IRL can be toppled. But yeah, as long as Gabriel's statue is standing high, his shadow still is present. That is how I view it.
Outside of that, the fight between Bug Noir and Monarch was satisfying. I love that she swung a shovel at Monarch's face sending him flying and the use of Lucky Charm in succession was actually interesting.
I liked that La Résistance try to help however they can. I'm not sure on how pertinent it was for Gabriel and Tomoe's last attack to be international, but I didn't mind. DC and Marvel both have heroes from their respective IPs coming together to fight when there is a global threat affecting more than one city. And it is no secret both Jeremy Zag and Thomas Astruc desire to create their own Zag universe of superheroes.
Also, Tomoe is so up to no good.
Luka was a surprise. I didn't expect him to be trained by Su-Han, however, considering that Su-Han was able to repel an Akuma and since Luka does know both LB and CN's identity, and that Su-Han and Luka already have met once during Ephemeral (as that part wasn't erased), that ending is not that weird if they wanted him back in the story eventually (and reminder that Mirakungfu is meant to disarm Miraculous Holders who went rogue). Anyway, with Luka, a side story about that would have been welcome. But fun detail, Luka's martial style is based on the Snake!
Love the true form of Tikki and Plagg and seeing them fuse into Gimmi was something.
"You humans always summon me to complain. Never to rejoice".
Yeah, feels about right.
Lila's intervention in the finale was pretty tame, but the conclusion is what we expected : she gets the Butterfly Miraculous. But it is probable she might have seen Ladybug untransformed alongside witnessing how to summon Gimmi (although there is no way to know for sure right now). Plus, Lila will have help which I didn't expect. And it seems it is someone who knew where to find here.
Btw, can we have more politician like Mayor Bustier, please? I know it is very utopist, but sign me up for that future.
So yeah, that finale closed a book BUT this isn't the end. There is something uncanny going on during the pool party. It's the illusion of a perfect ending.
Sign me up for S6. o/
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Hiii!!! Could you maybe do like, a reader with a familial relationship to Rocky (can be parental or sibling like whichever) who like invites Rocky to stay with them since I’m 90% sure that the car did NOT survive the pilot so he kiiinnndaa needs a place to live for the time being?
love ur writing btw!!!
Whoops, didn't necessarily tie it in perfectly to the pilot, but here we go anyway:
Maybe the car broke down (again). Maybe he was chased out of the closed speakeasy with a broom (again). Maybe he's on the run from the cops (again).
Whatever the case, congrats Y/N L/N: Rocky is moving in! Please baby proof absolutely everything.
There are no first day jitters with Rocky Rickaby. Once he's through the door, so is his crazed tornado. I really hope you locked up your crockery. 
Not only that, he sees you as a parental figure: you can't exactly kick him out. You'd be a fool to pretend he isn't like your own little toddler—except that this one is well into his twenties and knows how to man a gun. 
It's a baby with a gun, if you catch my drift (and reference). A baby with multiple guns. Yep, he's brought them all to yours for "safekeeping". There's a high likelihood half of them aren't even his, but who are you to judge?
If the cops did ever raid your house, however, you vow you'll throw Rocky under the bus for a cornchip.
You won't, but you'll definitely think about it.
You'll also think about it when he leaves hair and claw-marks all over your sofa, or when he doesn't wash the dishes like he promised to, or when he clogs the drains, or when he makes you a bulbous, slimy form of charcoal and sauce he calls "dinner"...
They're small little things, but still important enough to address for the long run.
It's an accomplishment to have managed to sit Rocky down long enough to put down some boundaries and ground rules, and even more of an achievement that you did so in a way he actually seemed to have listened.
He tries his best, bless him, he really does.
Part of you wonders if there isn't some sort of long overdue trauma talk behind that. You know he's lived a relatively unstable life, but you haven't realized how ephemeral until you have him under your wing.
He would probably avoid the question if you brought it up, but still. Maybe one day down the line…
Until then, you promise him on the regular that no matter what, he'll always have a place to stay with you.
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darkestprompts · 10 months
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Would love to hear your take on things each hero secretly (or not) likes!
Here's a mixed bag of silly and serious secrets :)
Abomination: has a bit of a Victor Frankenstein thing going on where he's fascinated by frankly outdated models of science that are more speculative philosophy and esotericism than anything. He's afraid Paracelsus or Alhazred will find out and make fun of his planetary correspondence charts.
Antiquarian: in her longest journey yet, she saw fireworks. The ephemeral beauty, impossible to capture and preserve, made her more than a little emotional.
Arbalest: plushies, cutesy things, bunnies. Thinks others won't take her seriously as a medic and sniper if she enjoys soft "childlike" stuff.
Bounty Hunter: big sweet tooth. Likes funny plays and skits. Terrified Sarmenti will find out he actually finds his jokes funny.
Crusader: doesn't hide that he loves animals, but is a little embarrassed of how silly he gets around cubs, pups and kits of all kinds. You've never heard his voice go so high.
Flagellant: of all of life's pleasures, he finds it hardest to resist a long hot bath. The feeling of cleanliness scratches a particular itch on his brain... And it was very hard to keep good hygiene when he lived on the streets.
Grave Robber: cheap, greasy festival food. Very unrefined, but she can't help what tastes good. On top of that, it always makes a mess of her lipstick!
Highwayman: canonically, poetry. Has been engrossed in more than one cringe romance novel too.
Hellion: the Church of Light got everything wrong... except for organ music. She loves the loud imposing sound, the deep reverberations, the dramatic highs and lows. She wishes she could play it, at least for fun.
Houndmaster: embroidery. His ma taught him to keep him still when he was a lad, now he finds it relaxing. His old colleagues would never let him live it down. Audrey thinks it's rather lovely.
Jester: likes collecting things but doesn't indulge because of how easy it is to lose it or have it taken away. If he had a safe place to store it he would collect coins, novelty dice (NOT for cheating, Dismas!!), masks and the like.
Leper: it isn't necessarily something he loves, but back in the day he made a point to once in a while try "commoner activities" like cooking, cleaning and gardening (he wanted to relate to his subjects). He was, more often than not, terrible at them.
Man-at-arms: used to be the best quadrille dancer in the army. Really misses dancing but thinks he'll look like an old fool and that he's probably lost the skill anyway.
Musketeer: ever since the saw the Thing beyond the veil, she tried to draw and paint it many times, even though she wasn't artistically inclined before. They never look quite right, but she can't bring herself to throw her attempts away.
Occultist: usually sneers at rural nature cults, but one time he participated in one of those rituals where everybody's got their breeches off under the moon and he had to admit it was pretty fun. There was great food and drink afterwards too. Look, the academy is very stressful, okay??
Plague Doctor: owns a rosary of wooden beads. It's just the right weight and texture for her to play with when her thoughts are idle. When Junia catches a glimpse of it she's excited. "Oh, so you ARE a believer!" "No, fuck off, that's my stim toy."
Runaway: once she found an abandoned place to bunker down and there was this chest full of moth-eaten costumes inside. She played theatre for hours. Envies Sarmenti's ability to act in public without embarassment.
Shieldbreaker: not exactly a secret, but she never expressed to anyone that she has a fascination for automata. The first time she saw one, she was a little girl and a merchant was showing off this tiny mechanical dancer. The image stuck to her mind, a perfectly crafted body, endless moving to one purpose as the crowd watches...
Vestal: we know it. It's the porn. Additionaly, she's more curious about pagan tales and theology than she lets on. Boudica noticed but in a uncharacteristic show of restraint has kept this knowledge to herself.
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lurkingshan · 8 months
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I've been following your discussions on ephemerality vs permanence, control & voyeurism, and on that theme I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on Boston having that video of Mew and Ray. It seems odd that he'd hold on to it for two years, without their knowledge, only to use it in a power play that isn't even fully about Mew. What do you think is happening there? I feel like it has to play into the power dynamics in his relationship with Mew, the way they hold each other in apparent contempt but stick together, as well as Boston's voyeurism and how he'd delight in holding some sort of compromising secret against Mew without his knowledge, but I haven't got any fully realised thoughts about it yet, so I'd love to hear your perspective.
Hi anon, thank you for asking! I have mentioned before that it feels like we're still missing a lot of information about this friend group and their history together, so there may be some information coming to give context to this particular incident and why Boston felt the need to record it. But my current suspicion is that his decision to record and keep this was not initially that deep or sinister.
Boston is a photographer; his instinct is to document what he sees. In the very first episode, he was walking around with a camera taking pictures of the surroundings. In the second episode, after he asked Nick to pose for some photographs, we saw how serious he is about this when it was revealed that he has his own private dark room. Most student photographers would use a dark room at school (think Ink in Bad Buddy), but Boston has built his residence around his photography, indicating this is much more than a casual hobby for him. He tells Nick that he likes to have mementos of certain people and moments in his life, and he hangs on to the photo strip from his first hookup with Top (I don't think it's a coincidence that his first time with Top has a connection to his love for photography; that's a signal that this was meaningful to him).
In accordance with this interest of his, Boston is a natural voyeur and keen observer of other people. He notices everything that is happening with his friends, and he is always documenting it, even if just in his own mind. He knows about Ray's feelings for Mew; he also knows Mew does not feel the same. He knows Mew has a chip on his shoulder about his virginity. He knows Top needs to feel like an alpha. He knows Nick can be appeased with some vague weasel words and a small bit of affection. And he uses all of this information to his advantage when the need and opportunity presents itself. He seems to have little to no qualms about doing so; Boston ruthlessly pursues what he wants and he doesn't really have any sense of loyalty.
On top of that, I tend to agree with you that Boston has some kind of longstanding issue with Mew. The way he digs at Mew about his virginity is hard to miss. It might just be that Mew's self-righteousness about sex grates on him on principle, and he wants to knock him down a peg. Or it could go deeper. I have been reading it as something of an inferiority complex, given that we know Mew is also a top student. Perhaps sex is the only arena in which Boston feels superior to Mew, and so he wants him on his playing field so that he can beat him at something. When he first hooked Mew up with Top, he clearly expected Top to sleep with him once and then move on, like he did with Boston; the fact that Mew actually got Top to pursue him seriously threw Boston off and pushed him into a bit of an obsessive spiral over Top.
So, back to your question: why did he record Ray and Mew doing whatever it is they did a couple years ago? At that time, it was probably simply because he saw it, and his instinct is always to observe and document. Boston is someone who likes knowing things and keeping a record, and he always has a camera ready. I'm not sure there needs to be any deeper reason than that. I doubt he recorded it with the conscious thought that one day he would use it to humiliate or expose them, though depending on how early this issue with him and Mew and sex popped up, he may already have been thinking that Mew is a hypocrite and here was his proof. But even if that wasn't the case then, when he saw an opportunity to use Ray's feelings for Mew to his advantage in his play for Top, he pulled this up from the archives and recognized it was the perfect ammunition. And as I mentioned above, he has no qualms about using it to his advantage.
Tagging in @chickenstrangers who I know also had a lot of thoughts about Boston's photography, and @ranchthoughts @waitmyturtles in case you have anything to add on the voyeurism thread.
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