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nichuuu · 6 months

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Dried Things & Humanity

말린 것들과 인류

Word count: 13k+ SMUTLESS FIC

"The world, after all, was still a place of bottomless horror. It was by no means a place of childlike simplicity where everything could be settled by a simple then-and-there decision" ~Osamu Dazai

Dried flowers.

They sat by your bedside, a constant reminder of how far you would go for love—A love that would never be anything more than a short-lived euphoria. They’d died some time ago, wilting rather quickly under a lack of care, but you kept them. The text that came when spring first rolled around saying hey let’s break up was not expected, neither was the part where she blocked you, nor was the part where you almost jumped off a bridge. Yet it all happened, a confusing, muddled, mish mash of events that went down over the span of a week. If it weren’t for your friends, you would be at the bottom of the river by now, joining your grandfather and maybe your family dog up in the clouds, or wherever it was that spirits wandered to. At the moment, getting out of this life didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.

You stupid child! Your mother had chided when she found out about what you almost did. What do you think you would’ve achieved with that? What good will it do?

Then she hugged you, held you tight and sobbed as she thanked god for letting you live another day. Frankly, you didn’t know what was the appropriate response for your mother. You opted to hug her back, tearfully whispering your endless apologies to her. Even though you promised to never make another attempt on your life, the fear of losing her only boy still lingered in your mother’s mind. Your mother and father were always in the office. So, in fear that living alone would drive you to the worst possible option, she sent you to live with your uncle who ran a secondhand bookshop in a small town not too far from the city. She filled him in with what happened and pleaded for him to help you “recover”.

“Don’t worry little sis,” he assured your mother. He threw an arm around you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own son. We’ll get along, won’t we?”

Park Sang-hoon—the people living in the area called him “the librarian”—was your mother’s older brother. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated from middle school, and he’d certainly aged from the last time you saw him. The hair that was once jet black and slicked back was turning white and receding. The same friendly complexion remained however, the amiable smile that you remembered greeting you when he opened the door to his house. It was a stone's throw away from the bookstore.

The house and the business had been imparted upon him by your grandparents. It was relatively small, but there was enough room for the two of you to live with your own privacy (though that didn't really matter since he’d just come barging into the room you stayed in anyway.)

The door to your room flung open. “Hey kid! Rise and shine!”

You grumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket over your head.

“Up! Up! It’s time to get up!” your uncle bellowed in a sing-song tone, “there are so many things to see and do! Get up you lazy child!”

Your blanket was yanked off your entire body.

“Is this really necessary?” you snapped. Your uncle grinned.

“No. But it’s fun,” he beamed. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your left side, you back facing him,

“Leave me alone…” you muttered, “let me sleep…”

“I’ve been letting you do that for the past week,” your uncle huffed, “now your mother is calling me, demanding to know if you’d even emerged from this room. She said some mean things to me, you know?”

You sighed and turned onto your back. “I’ll go out tomorrow…”

Your uncle sighed. “Let me tell you something…”

Let me tell you something was the signal for you to tune out. “Let me tell you something”, “Let me tell you this”—your uncle always said these before he launched into a long rambling story that really added no value to what he was trying to say. It was either that or he’d leave you with a cryptic message to decipher yourself. You never understood why he did that, it was probably just an old people thing.

By the time he was done with his little storytime, you were still in bed. With another heavy sigh, your uncle said, “fine… If you’re not gonna go anywhere today, at least come and help me with the store.”

Your mind told you to stay in bed, but your body told you that you needed to get outside. You decided to listen to the latter party for once.

The bookshop was old, one of those shophouses down a stretch of road that townsfolk usually walked past on the daily. Needless to say, the store wasn’t the most appealing from the outside. The inside however—That was something else.

You remembered visiting the bookstore with your mother once or twice. A stack of books nearly fell on you that time, and your uncle was berated rather viciously. He’d definitely made some improvements in the time you were away. The store was warm, cosy and relatively organised. The shelves were evidently a little worn from the years, but they still looked and felt sturdy to the touch. It was a welcoming environment, the interior bearing a striking resemblance to a bookstore of the early 90s.

“I’ve kept up with the times!” your uncle boasted proudly, “nowadays everyone and their mothers are all into this retro aesthetic, so I made sure to keep as much of the hip and cool retro feel.”

Your uncle definitely did his research. You couldn’t help but look upon the shelves filled with books with awe. “This is…”

“Pretty lit, am I right?” your uncle grinned. You cringed.

Your uncle frowned. “What? Did I not use the phrase correctly?”

“N-No it’s just… Ah whatever,” you muttered.

“Damn… I swear I had the meaning for that one down,” your uncle muttered, “the slang of the youth… Such an odd thing.”

After giving you a little more time to admire the place, your uncle tossed you an apron and instructed you to put it on.

“I’m alright with letting you stay with me for free,” your uncle told you as he helped you tie the strings of the apron behind your back, “but I won’t let you wallow in this post-breakup sadness all day.”

He spun you around, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You just graduated from highschool, no?”

You nodded.

“Perfect, you’ll need some job experience then,” he grinned, “from now on. You’ll work for me till your stay here is over!”

And so it began. From that day onwards, you started filling shelves, dusting books, pasting on price tags and flipping through pages of books that had been sold to the store to assess the state of the book. It was far from enjoyable in the beginning. It felt akin to the life of Andy Dufrane in Shawshank redemption, the same old routine repeated day after day in what felt like an endless cycle. You were up early in the morning to open the shop with your uncle, the brown apron on your person by 7am in the morning and the door to the shop open by 9am after you were with the opening up preparations. You had to flip the plastic sign hanging on the door from “open” to “closed” every morning, and from “open” back to “closed” in the late evenings. Lunch was usually around 12pm, where your uncle would go out to one of the nearby restaurants to get lunch for the two of you. You’d sit opposite each other in the small break room that sat behind the counter, munching on whatever he bought.

Handling customers was also another gruelling task. You admittedly didn’t have a voracious appetite for books, many authors sounding foreign to you. A good majority of the books that the store had on hand were classics from esteemed authors, varying in language, length and appeal. When customers asked you what you’d recommend, you could only shrug, earning yourself a nasty gare before they walked off. When they asked about the disparity between the prices of the same book, you could only stare blankly before calling to your uncle.The store had duplicates of some books, the only thing separating the copies being the cover art or the type of book cover.

“Let me tell you something,” your uncle had told you one fine day, “hardcover books are much more valuable than the usual soft cover books. You want to know why?”

That last part wasn’t a question, rather more of a filler. Apparently, a hardcover was typically more durable, allowing it to better protect the pages within. This meant that the book would stay in better condition for longer. Ultimately, the process and materials needed for hardcover book printing were more expensive, hence this cost is passed on to readers.

“Capitalism,” you muttered, placing the hardcover version of Greek Lessons by Han Kang on the shelf.

As for the cover art—Some covers were objectively more appealing than the other, making the book more valuable. This was the case for Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. The two covers looked about the same to you.

On some days, you wondered how such an old secondhand bookstore could’ve lasted for so long. There were days where you only sold two books for little Won each, and those were typically on weekdays where some of the townsfolk—usually on the more elderly side—would come through the doors and browse through the books. But on the weekends, you were reminded just how hectic this place could get. The youth from the city loved to flood the shop over the weekends, making the commute from the heart of the country to this small shop in a small town to browse through the seemingly endless selection of books.The line to the counter often snaked out the door and onto the street on those days, and your fingers would be aching by the end of the day—A byproduct of gripping those handles of those paper bags while struggling to get them open.

After a week or two, you got used to the whole routine. It didn’t help to remove the monotony of your tasks however, and you often found yourself wondering how your uncle could run this place on his own for so long. With the memories of your ex still tormenting your mind, you found it hard to focus on your tasks at times. Sometimes, you just didn’t want to get up in the mornings. The dried flowers by your bedside were a constant reminder of the pain. You’d bought them for her on the day that text came, now you couldn’t let go of them.

One evening, your uncle decided to close up the shop a little earlier. It’d been a slow Wednesday, so there was no harm in resting up a little earlier than usual.

“Come with me,” he told you after he’d locked the shutter in place, “I want to take you somewhere.”

You walked up the stretch with him, walking past the rows of shophouses that lined the street. You saw bookstores that looked similar to your uncle’s a couple of times, prompting you to wonder just how many people sold secondhand books on this stretch.

He took you to a small bridge at the end of the road. It was one of those old, traditional Korean bridges with the stone tiling that arched over the water. He took you up to its apex and made you look out into the water.

“What do you see?” he asked you.

“Is this one of those stupid lectures again?” you muttered.

“Just answer me.”

You sighed. “I see the water and some trees.”

“Good. What else?” he urged.

“There’s nothing else,” you told him.

“Wrong. Look again.”

You rolled your eyes and set your sights a little further. “I see Cogongrass.”

“What else?”

You were certain that this was one of his stupid little talks again. “Just tell me what you want to say, uncle!”

“Always so impatient…” he chuckled.

Gently, he grabbed your chin and tipped it up. With his other hand, he pointed out into the distance—Past the trees, water, the cogon grass and the roofs of the shophouses. There, you saw the mountains and the roads that stretched for kilometres, the faint shape of those big blue signs that pointed you in the directions to different places.

“You limit yourself to what you see in this area,” he explained, “but you fail to see past this river and this small town.”

He turned you back to face him. You were a little taller than him, so he had to look up at you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders, holding them firmly.

“You must learn to set your sights further, dear nephew,” he told you, “learn to see past the trees and the water in your mind. Then and only then, will you be able to live once more.”

The cryptic message left you admittedly puzzled on the way home. It took you some thinking to read between the lines and understand what your uncle had told you—You had to look past the memories of your ex in order to move on with your life.

“Excellent,” your uncle had praised when you knocked on his door to ask if your interpretation of his message was correct, “I hope that you can remember this. I hate to see you moping around my store. It scares my customers away too!”

Your first step in looking past the memories was to toss out the dried flowers from your bedside. Even though it was painful, you did it. You knew you needed to.

In its place by your bedside, you bought an alarm clock—one of those old ones that still used the hammers to knock the two small bells—And a framed photograph of the town. You bought both of them from one of the nice old ladies who ran a souvenir shop just down the road.

It was the start of a new beginning. It felt like you were human once more.

***

Dried Persimmon.

That was what you were munching on when you were handed your first paycheck from your uncle.

“W-Why are you paying me?” you stammered, “I-I thought this was just something to occupy my time!”

“I may be cheap, but I won’t exploit my own nephew!” your uncle laughed, “now quit sneaking snacks on your shift and get back to work!”

You knew that your uncle was generous, but you never expected him to be this generous. With a smile, you wiped the bits of the dried fruit from the corners of your lips before pocketing the envelope.

“Thanks,” you beamed. You raised the small jar of dried persimmons and asked, “want one?”

“Tsk. I’m a professional, I don’t eat on my shift,” he sneered.

“You sure?” you confirmed, “this is a fresh batch from Miss Cho’s…”

“From Miss Cho’s?” he gasped, “gimme some of that!”

You had become well acquainted with the townsfolk, especially with the ones that ran the stores on the same stretch as the bookstore. Sometimes, the sweet old ladies from down the road would come in to deliver some gifts to you and your uncle. Everyone seemed to be friends in this town. Miss Cho was one of the many townsfolk that specialised in dried goods. A sweet lady really, a little older than your mother but not as old as your uncle. Persimmons were seasonal fruits, so they were naturally high in demand in late spring.

You let your uncle take one piece of the dried fruit before closing the lid and setting it atop the table in the break room. Your uncle stepped aside to let you exit, and you went to continue your shift.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to move on from your ex. Yes, you did share some fond memories with her, but you found these “core memories” made with her easy to forget. She no longer appeared in your dreams, neither did you think about her when you were going about your tasks. She’d become a distant pain, a pain that you never intend to revisit.

Once, she did happen to come by the bookstore on a weekend. She walked into the crowded store, hand in hand with a brand new boyfriend while you were calculating somebody’s purchase. You caught yourself staring at her as she browsed through the books, her boyfriend lingering close by as he read over her shoulder. It was then that your uncle firmly grabbed you by the shoulder. He’d seen pictures of her. He could recognise her on sight

“Look past the trees and the water,” he reminded you, before going back to checking out books. You tore away your gaze from them and continued with your work.

When she came out to the counter to pay, the look of shock on her face almost made you want to double over in laughter. Swiftly and wordlessly, you took her books and packaged them neatly in a bag.

“That will be forty-thousand Won ma’am,” you had smiled respectfully. She was still staring at you, her mouth open in the shape of an “o”. Her boyfriend had to pay and take the goods from you before directing her out of the store.

When they left, your uncle gave you a gentle pat on your hand. Well done was what he was trying to say.

True to your uncle’s lesson, once you had gotten over her, you felt like you were alive. You found that you quickly took a liking to this new lifestyle, immersing yourself in the wide array of books that were at your disposal and even taking home a few to read. It felt like a fresh new chapter had begun in your life, and you were more than ready to welcome its start. The monotony was now welcomed in this slower-paced segment of your life.

“By the way,” your uncle called to you as you set down a box of books. He’d just bought them off a guy moving overseas. “I have a feeling that business will start to pick up soon!’

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“You’ll see…” he smiled. He popped another dried persimmon into his mouth. “Damn! This batch is bussin!”

You cringed. You could get used to life in this small town, but you knew that you’d never get used to your uncle throwing out the slang of your generation. You wondered if he had Tik Tok on his phone or if he’d seen one too many Instagram reels.

With your box cutter, you cut open the tape that sealed the cardboard box, the one that housed the goods. You opened the box.

“The hell…” you muttered as you stared at the books within, “who did you get these off?”

“Some preschool principal. What’s up?” your uncle asked.

You produced one of the many alarmingly thin books from the box. “Hate to break it to you but… These are all children’s books.”

Your uncle was never one to swear, but he made a rare exception for that moment.

“Fuck!” he cussed rather loudly, “I should’ve asked what the contents were!”

You chuckled and placed the book back into the cardboard box. “Don’t worry uncle, we can always sell these to the daycare, can’t we?”

“Bourgeoisie scumbag! I paid a lot for that!” your uncle continued to ramble. You decided that it would be best to silently push the box into the storeroom while he let his frustrations out.

***

Dried leaves.

That's what you were sweeping when a black van rolled into the stretch of street. The front doors opened and a man and a woman stepped out. It was early autumn. The leaves of those trees that grew next to the bookstore—Once beautiful and elegant in nature—became pesky as their leaves had begun to wither and fall. Your uncle saw the mess outside the store and immediately got you to start sweeping it up. He couldn’t stand the sight of it.

You halted your broom as the man and woman approached you.

“Hello,” the woman greeted you, “is this Park’s second hand books?”

You nodded and pointed at the sign above you. The woman grinned. She turned and told the man to get the gear out.

You recognised the city accent in their voices.

The man wrapped around the vehicle and opened the trunk. You tried to look into the van but found that the tinted windows didn’t let you see anything. The man came back around, a heavy video camera—those ones they used to film movies—on his shoulder. The woman approached the door of the van and pulled it open.

Five girls got out of the van, selfie sticks with Gopros attached to the end in their hands as they filed out of the vehicle one by one. It took a moment for you to recognize the five of them, and another moment to realise that there were global superstars standing right before you.

In a wordless panic, you dropped the broom and bolted into the store. Your uncle was behind the counter, counting the bills in the cash register when you called him.

“ITZY is in front of the store!” you exclaimed. Your uncle cocked his head.

“ITZY?” he inquired, “is that a new slang or something?”

“N-No! T-Their idols, uncle! There are idols outside the door!”

It took a moment for your uncle to process what you’d said. Then, he simply smiled.

“Right… I forgot to tell you about that,” he said. He placed the bills he had been counting back into the register and walked out from behind the counter.

“Oooh… These girls are much prettier in person,” your uncle mused as he walked by. He opened the door to the store and stepped outside. You could hear his booming voice through the open door. “HELLO! WELCOME! WELCOME!”

You could hear them exchanging greetings outside the store. Hurriedly, you scanned around the store, looking for any signs of mess. There were thankfully none.

“Come in! It’s rather cold out,” your uncle said, “it’s much warmer in here!”

You quickly stood up straighter, your hands by your sides as the five ITZY girls walked through the door of the store.

“Welcome to the store!” your uncle grinned, “that over there is my nephew, he runs the place with me for now.”

The girls turned. The feeling of five pairs of eyes on you was nerve-wracking, and the two cameras that started to flank you on either side weren’t helping to ease your nerves. Where did the second camera come from? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You gulped, a tug of war between waving and bowing to the girls ensuing in your head as you stared blankly.

“He’s uh… A little shy,” your uncle chuckled. Then he gave you a look, one that said hurry up and say hello you dense child.

There was no victor in the mental tug of war. In the end, you resorted to an awkward half wave, half bow. The girls sniggered at your greeting.

Then and there, you wanted to shrink down and hide in the shelf behind you.

The woman from earlier started speaking to the girls. “This is the final place. Now, we will draw lots to see who goes where!”

She produced a handful of popsicle sticks. The girls started talking about how nervous they were, giggling amongst themselves as they started to draw the sticks one by one. Your uncle stood by the woman, a small smile on his face as he patiently awaited the result.

“Oh. Looks like I’ll be working here!” Shin Yuna smiled as she looked at her stick. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment that you heard in her voice.

“Excellent!” your uncle beamed. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen going twenty, sir!” Yuna answered bubbly.

“Ah! Looks like my nephew will have a friend of his age then!” your uncle laughed.

“E-Eh?” you blurted, “w-what’s happening?”

Your uncle walked up next to you. He put an arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll explain later,” he whispered.

Yuna giggled and cleared the hair from her face. You made eye contact with her.

She grinned.

You felt a burning sensation on your face.

***

Dried Pollack soup.

That was what you ate with your uncle as people came in to set up cameras around the store. Every corner, every angle, every millimetre was covered by at least one Gopro.

“They said in the email that it was for their Youtube,” your uncle told you, “they're gonna live in this town for a bit, work at some of the stores… Taking a break from their idol activities apparently.”

“B-But why the bookstore?” you inquired. Your uncle shrugged.

“I don’t know. They sent me a 30 page proposal that I didn’t bother to read. I figured that having idols in our store would help boost our business. Get people from other parts to come here—You know what I’m saying?”

You did not know what he was saying. The whole situation was so overwhelming. An idol working at the bookstore? For how long? What did you need to do?

A knock came on the break room door. You turned and saw a man standing there, Gopro in hand.

“Sorry to disturb you, but can I put a camera in here?” he asked politely.

Your uncle gave him a look and asked, “is that completely necessary?”

“I-I mean… If you guys are okay with it,” you replied. Your uncle sighed.

“Take the soup out,” he instructed you, “give them space to set up…”

***

A very, very dry mouth.

That's what you had when Yuna walked into the store for her first day of work.

She was tailed by one cameraman and another woman, both of them wearing the same shirt that read “JYP CREW”. You could feel the cold sweat on your palms as you handed her the apron that already had her name tag on it. With a rather apparent stutter, you welcomed her to her new job. She smiled, that radiant smile that you’d only seen on your phone screen now right before you. It sent a warm fuzz down your spine.

Your uncle showed her around, breaking down the various jobs to her as you opened up a box of books—they weren’t children’s books this time—and got to filling the shelves. You could hear every word that came out from your uncle's mouth as you explained the tasks that the idol was to undertake, as well as the opening and closing timings of the store. He finished his run down just as you finished placing the last book from the box on the shelf.

“What should I do now?” you heard her ask.

“Go help my nephew. I think he could use a hand,” your uncle replied.

“Right! On it!” came her bubbly reply.

You could feel your heart beating faster as you felt her get closer and closer.

A tap on your shoulder.

“Hello!’ she greeted you, “let’s work well together!”

You managed to sputter out something. She asked for instructions on what she should do. You blanked out for a second. Then tremulously, you reached into your apron and pulled out the second box cutter.

“U-Um,” you began. “T-There’s a box of… B-Books in the store… Just… Just uh…”

Her gaze felt piercing even though it was gentle. It’d been awhile since you’d stood before a girl this gorgeous. Your nineteen-year-old hormones were getting to you, sweat beading your forehead as you struggled to give the idol instructions.

Then suddenly, you ran away. You didn’t know why you ran, but you just ran out of the store and down the street. Getting away from the store was your main task, and you ran quite a good distance in the chilly autumn air before you finally ran out of breath. Clammy, tense and exhausted, you rested outside one of the shophouses along the stretch.

“Fuck… What’s wrong with me?” you questioned yourself. It was like you’d never talked to a girl in your life.

It only took a second or two for the adrenaline to fade. In its place came embarrassment as you buried your face in your hands. What are you doing you stupid idiot! Why did you run? You chided yourself, beating your cheek with your own palm.

You heard someone call your name. You raised your head.

“Why are you slapping yourself in front of my store?” Miss Cho inquired. She was pushing a cart full of pears. They were probably freshly harvested.

“Oh… Hey Miss Cho,” you greeted her, “I was just… I-I don’t know…”

You ended up pushing Miss Cho’s cart back up the street.

“She’s a what now?” Miss Cho pressed.

“An idol Miss Cho,” you explained. You eventually got around to telling her the reason as to why you were beating yourself in front of her shop. The concept of someone singing and dancing for a living sounded completely foreign to Miss Cho—Someone who spent most of her life drying fruits and making snacks—So you had to explain it to her.

“Ah… I remember my daughter saying something about it,” Miss Cho mused, “so… Why did you run away from her?”

“I… Don’t know,” you told her truthfully, “I guess I just freaked out.”

“Because she’s famous?” she pressed. You thought about it for a moment, then you nodded.

Miss Cho stopped addressing you for a moment to greet Mrs Han, the lady that ran one of the restaurants on the stretch with her husband. Miss Cho gave the restaurant owner a whole carton worth of pears, telling Mrs Han to make something tasty out of them before the two of you continued moving along.

“Why are you scared of an Idol?” she continued to question.

“I-I don’t know… I-I guess it’s because she’s popular and all, so I’m scared that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of her,” you reasoned.

Miss Cho hummed and nodded. “I see…”

She stopped once more, this time in front of the sweets store. You helped her pull out a crate of apples from the bottom of the stacks of pears and handed it to the store owner. Miss Cho requested for a batch of the sweets when they were ready before the two of you got to moving again.

“So… Why does this girl being this idol make her any less normal than you?” she asked.

“P-Pardon?” you stuttered, “I-I never… I never said that…”

Miss Cho chuckled, one of those nice Ahjumma laughs that could warm one’s heart. “You did not, but the way you spoke of her implied it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. Now that you thought of it, you’d made Yuna sound like some high and mighty god that could smite you with a snap of her fingers.

“Just because someone has millions of fans doesn't mean that they’re any less of a human than you and I,” Miss Cho told you, “just because someone is adored doesn't make them more superior. If that was the case, I’d be a warlord by now!”

The dried fruits specialist cackled at her own joke. She always had a tendency to do that.

“You see… The problem with fame is that everyone places you on a pedestal,” she continued, “a mistake could cost your whole reputation. A good choice could gain you more popularity. It’s a never ending game, dehumanising in the sense that these famous people can’t afford to live normal lives. Why? Because they’re not considered normal! That’s not right if you ask me…”

You were wondering where this knowledge was coming from. You made it a mental note to talk to Miss Cho a little more. Was it normal for all the old people in this town to be so wise?

The two of you finally stopped in front of the bookshop. Miss Cho instructed you to take in a crate of pears, assuring you that she could make the rest of the journey down the street herself. You waved goodbye to her and prepared to enter once more.

“Remember,” she called to you. You were just about to open the door. “That girl is human. Treat her the way you’d treat any other human.”

She left you with that nugget of wisdom before she bade you farewell and continued with her journey up the street. You sat on her words for a moment before you entered the bookstore once more.

Yuna’s head snapped towards the door when she heard the chime of the door. You made eye contact with her.

Human.

With a smile, you carried the crate into the store and asked, “pears anyone?”

***

A dry wipe.

That’s what you gave Yuna to clean the dust off the shelves. Two weeks had elapsed since she’d started working with you and your uncle. You never got used to the fact that there were always cameras around you, nor did you ever get used to the fact that the woman and the cameraman would pull you aside and ask for your opinions on Yuna as an employee every now and then. You would always try to be as honest as possible, excluding any embarrassing slip ups she made in an effort to not badmouth the girl.

Within her first week here, she’d already clocked in late once. She apologised furiously that day, working twice as hard to compensate for her mistake. Standing tall, she could reach for the things that customers couldn’t, making her a great help to the regulars. She learnt quickly, finding the most optimal way to replenish the shelves by her fourth day and figured out the best way to assess the state of the book on her fifth.

Weekends had become more packed because of her, the word that Shin Yuna from ITZY was working at the store getting out rather quickly within the first Saturday she worked here. The next day, you had a flock of Midzy’s in front of the store 3 hours before opening. You had to guide Yuna in through the back entrance to prevent her from being swarmed. While Yuna greeted her fans that came to see her in the store with a big smile, you couldn’t help but notice the hint of tiredness behind her eyes. It was like she didn’t really want to be there, but she had no other choice

Now, she was doing an excellent job getting the dust off the top shelves.

“I think that’s good enough Yuna,” you told her. She turned to look at you.

“You sure? I think it still needs one more round,” she told you.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you told her, handing her another sheet of dry wipes while you took the blackened one from her hands.

“This is great,” she told you, beginning her final round of cleaning, “it makes me feel like I’m at home again. I feel like I’m a kid.”

Here’s the thing about Yuna—Her joy was contagious. When you saw that smile on her face, you couldn’t help but smile along with her. The silliest things could make her grin, and you’d end up grinning with her even though you didn’t find it amusing. You were convinced that it was a special skill of the sort.

Yuna wiped up whatever dust she could find, leaving no stone unturned as she completed her task. It was almost closing time, a relatively slow day for the bookstore as usual. Yuna had been completing her shifts diligently, only ever disappearing for lunch and toilet breaks.

Hell… If she wasn’t some bigshot idol, I’d have her employed full-time in a heartbeat! your uncle had told you over lunch one day. You couldn’t help but agree with him.

“There! All clean!” Yuna exclaimed.

“Could you show us the cloth, Yuna?” the lady producer asked her.

For a moment, you saw a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. Then the usual, childlike wonder took its place and Yuna presented the cloth to the camera.

“Ta-da! All clean!” she beamed proudly. You politely clapped your hands in the background. The female producer gave Yuna a thumbs up before tapping the cameraman’s shoulder. “I think we can wrap up for the day.”

The two turned and walked out of the store. Yuna waited till both of them had exited before letting out a deep sigh.

“Break from idol activities? Yea right…” she muttered, stepping off the step ladder. You stretched out your hand to take the dry wipe from Yuna. She suddenly seemed to remember that you were there, and that bright smile returned to her face. She handed you the dry wipe, all bubbly and smiley.

“I’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom, boss!” she told you. You nodded and let her go. She skipped off towards the back entrance. Your uncle walked out of the storeroom. He was drenched in sweat, his green shirt turning dark under the moisture.

“Hand me a towel would you?” he requested. You quickly walked behind the counter and tossed him his slightly moist towel. He caught it, smiled, then wiped his sweaty face.

“Who knew organising could take so much out of me?” he chuckled. He looked around. “Where’s Yuna?”

“Bathroom,” you explained. Your uncle gave you his Ah I see expression. Then he took a look at his watch. “Let’s get ready to close up shop.”

You nodded and walked over to the door. As you were about to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”, you saw Yuna walking back towards the shop. You raised an eyebrow.

Coming in from the back would’ve been much quicker…

As she got closer, you could make out the tired look on her face. Then you realised that the cameraman and the female producer were following her once more. So much for wrapping up you thought to yourself as you pushed the door open.

“Yuna!” you called to her, “come in! We’re gonna start closing up!”

The weary look disappeared in a flash. Yuna smiled from ear to ear and began jogging towards the store. You found that the cameraman and producer were far from wrapping up, following the idol back into the bookshop like chicks tailing their mother.

“H-Hey um… Didn’t you guys say you were wrapping up?” you asked the producer. She turned and looked at you.

“We need as much content as we can get. Gotta keep going,” she told you. Then she left to catch up with the camera man. You were suddenly ill at ease.

They continued to follow Yuna as she assisted you and your uncle in closing up the shop. They were like shadows, tailing the idol with every move she made. There was an unmistakable look of irritance on Yuna's face, but she only let it out when her back was turned to the camera. At the end of it all, the female producer made the idol shoot a thumbs up to the camera and exclaim, “Another job well done today!”. Only when they had gotten a perfect take of that did they truly cut the camera and start packing up for the day.

“Try to be a little more energetic tomorrow,” the producer told Yuna. You were all outside the store by then. The shutter was closed and locked. The final piece of equipment had been loaded into their van.

“Got it!” Yuna beamed. The producer nodded and wordlessly got into the van with the camera man. The van pulled away, leaving the three of you to breathe in its exhaust as it became smaller and smaller.

“This street was never built for cars…” your uncle grumbled. Then he turned to Yuna and told her, “good job today. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

Yuna smiled—this time a little less bright and more weary—and bowed. “Thank you for today! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The idol turned on her heel and walked off towards the small house that she and her members stayed in for the time being. You couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to slump.

“Are we overworking her?” your uncle asked. He must’ve noticed too.

“I’m not sure,” you answered, “I feel like it’s not the work…”

Your uncle raised an eyebrow. “What else could wear her out today? She’s been cleaning and stacking all day!”

You pursed your lips. Then, you turned to your uncle and said, “go home without me. I need to do something.”

You set off after the idol. She hadn’t walked too far over the course of your conversation with your uncle. You caught up to her in a matter of seconds.

“Yuna!” you called her. She turned.

“Hm?” she hummed.

You stopped before her. “Could I… Take you somewhere?”

You only realised how weird that sounded after the last syllable left your mouth. Inwardly, you cringed and hoped to god that she didn’t find that creepy. Thankfully, she gave you a smile and said, “sure!”

You took her to the bridge where your uncle had imparted his wisdom upon you. The walk there was filled with awkward silence, only broken erratically by your comments on the different shops. In the chilly Autumn air, you walked side by side with Yuna till you reached your destination.

“Wow…” Yuna muttered as you stopped at the apex of the bridge, “this is…”

“It’s prettier in Spring,” you told her.

“I can imagine that,” she whispered.

She placed her hands on the railings and leaned her body weight against it. You silently stood next to her, letting her take in the breathtaking scenery without disturbance. You had a hunch—The fact that cameras were always on her had been taking a toll on the idol. You figured she needed some time away from the cameras, a moment where she didn’t have to live with the fact that she was perpetually in the frame of a lens that was recording her every move.

You didn’t know what to do when the first teardrop came rolling down her face. When her body started to shake, you started to panic internally. That wasn’t part of the agenda. You awkwardly fumbled around, patting your pockets to see if you had any tissue to give her. By the time you had pulled out the small tissue packet from your pocket, the girl was already seated on the bridge, knees tucked in and arms locked around her legs as she bawled and bawled. Awkwardly, you sat down next to her. You maintained a distance from Yuna and silently slid your tissue over to her. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability.

You gave her time. Breakdowns like hers would never be finished in a matter of minutes, you knew from experience. The sheer internal bedlam a human could experience under certain circumstances was no joke.

It took some time, but her shoulders eventually stopped heaving so violently, her breaths becoming more uniformed in nature.

“I-I’m sorry… I-I just…” she started to apologise.

“It’s… It’s alright,” you assured her, “it… It must be tough for you.”

You gestured to the packet of tissue next to her. She gratefully accepted it, pulling out a couple of pieces to dry her eyes. There were no more words spoken between the two of you, only an odd, comfortably awkward silence in the air as you both sat with your backs to the railing. Yuna sniffled intermittently, and you could hear her drawing tissues to blow her nose.

You didn’t say anything to comfort her. But that day, you unwittingly made her start trusting you.

***

Dried apple slices.

That’s what Yuna had bought to share with you. She’d gotten them from Miss Cho’s, and had asked to eat them with you on the bridge after your shifts had ended.

“These are so good!” she exclaimed.

“Miss Cho’s family spent lifetimes perfecting their formula. It’s gotta be good,” you told her.

Yuna squealed happily as she dug her hand into the container and pulled out yet another slice. You could pinpoint the exact moment where the flavour of Miss Cho’s apple slices burst forth in her mouth. Her wide-eyed silent glee was your indication. On the railing of the bridge you sat, side by side with the idol. There was an unexplained affinity between you two since that day she cried next to you. Your interactions in the bookstore had increased, becoming friendlier in nature. It was like something suddenly clicked between the two of you.

“Man… These things make me want to live here forever!” Yuna laughed, kicking her legs like a child as she dug her hand into the container for yet another slice. You smiled as you watched her. She seemed more carefree that day.

“You’re from the city, right?” she asked you, popping another slice into her mouth.

“Yep… I’m just staying here for a while,” you explained to her.

“Don’t you have to search for a university?”

You kicked your legs and sighed. “I do… But that can always wait.”

Your truth—You didn’t want to leave this town. Life was much simpler, slower. You’d originally come here to recover, hatred and bitterness brimming in your heart. Now that it had been purged from your being, you found a connection with this humble, small town. You knew that you’d eventually have to leave, go back into the hustle and bustle of the city when you got back to your life as a city boy. You dreaded the arrival of that day.

You told this to her. A look of understanding crossed her face.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Since early Spring so… About a month now?” you replied.

“Ah… And what’s this bitterness that you had?” she pressed.

You took a dried apple slice and popped it into your mouth. You munched on it a little before replying, “I had to recover from a breakup.”

Yuna chuckled. “Ah… I suppose this place seems like a nice town to get back on your feet.”

You were glad she understood you.

“You know… This spot is really something,” she told you, “it’s so beautiful and calming… I really gotta thank you for showing it to me.”

You waved it off. “No problem.”

Yuna folded one leg up. “I came here with the girls once after that evening. It was a good break.”

She sighed heavily. You wiped your hand on your jeans.

“It must be tiring,” you said.

“Hm?”

She turned to look at you intently. You stared at your sneakers. The once snow white shoes had been dirtied by gravel and all sorts of elements, but you didn’t really mind.

“It must be tough living with no breaks… I imagine it can get pretty overwhelming,” you told her. Yuna stared off into the distance for a moment.

“When they told us that we would be coming here to take a break from our idol activities, I thought that we’d actually be able to rest…” she muttered, “then we saw the cameras and got handed those damn selfie sticks… That’s when I knew that we were just making more content while we’re supposedly ‘resting’.”

You could hear the spite in her voice. Your heart went out to her.

“I hate this,” she continued, “I just want to have a moment where I’m not dancing, where I’m not singing, where I’m not being recorded by some stupid fucking camera while I keep some pretty smile on my face.”

Her truth—There were times where she wondered whether the idol life was meant for her. While they existed, she couldn’t recall the last moment where she was just Shin Yuna, a regular nineteen year old girl finding her way in life. She liked the bookstore, it made her feel human. While she was going about her tasks, the sheer monotony of it all brought some semblance of regularity into her life. For a rare moment, she wasn’t just some money making machine for a company, she was just a regular human, like you. It gave her an unexplainable joy, a joy that was quickly stripped away when she turned and saw a camera being pointed right at her.

She told you this in hew own words. You bit your bottom lip.

“But of course, I can’t let that show, can I?” she laughed bitterly, “gotta be pretty preppy princess Yuna. Can’t be angry, can’t be annoyed, allowed to cry only in concerts or in interviews… Fuck all this idol shit.”

Her life didn’t sound as great as you’d imagined. You admittedly thought that many idols lived in luxury, showered with love and attention from fans worldwide while earning big bucks doing what they always aspired to. In reality, their lives were the most cruel and unforgiving, an endless cycle of practice, classes and content. They were always being watched and monitored. They maintained a happy, cheerful image for their fans, but deep down they just want to take a break for some time before coming back to this life of theirs. It sucked. It sucked big time, but they all lived with it.

The harm that humans could bring upon each other was frightening, yet the world was as such.

“I think you’re incredibly strong Yuna,” you voiced your sincere thoughts, “it takes a lot to be you. I don’t think many people can confidently look me in the eye and tell me that they’re fine with being watched twenty-four-seven, let alone pretend like everything is great with their life when it really isn’t.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “I… I think I really needed to hear that. You summed it up really well.”

She shot you a sincere smile. You chuckled softly and scratched the nape of your neck. There was a warm sensation on your face.

“You’re… Welcome I guess?” you told her. She laughed at that.

“You’re funny,” she remarked, “I like your company.”

The warmth on your face was now more of a burning sensation. You looked down at your sneakers, feeling a grin plastered on your lips. Her smile was as contagious as her joy.

“How… How long are you guys gonna be here for?” you asked her.

“I forgot... I only know that we’ll go back for Chuseok, then come back here for a few more weeks. We’ll be out of here by the middle of November if I recall correctly, then back to comeback preparation in early Winter,” she replied.

Time was a funny thing. It could go by so fast when you wanted it to be slow, but it could also drag on like a snail when you wanted it to be a rabbit. Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

In your heart, you prayed that Yuna’s time in this town wouldn’t be fleeting. In your heart, you prayed that time could show mercy on this girl.

***

Dried anchovies.

That’s what your uncle needed from Miss Lee, the general store owner, to cook the stew for that night's dinner. You shrugged on your jacket that evening and headed down to go buy what was needed. Mrs Lee greeted you with the usual warm smile, though you could tell that the Gopro on the counter was making her ill at ease.

The ITZY girls were there, talking amongst themselves as a camera man and a different lady producer stood behind them. You did your best to slip by undetected, snagging the bag of dried anchovies and a bottle of water without being spotted. You didn’t know that they’d follow them till this late.

You paid for the good and exited quietly. On the way back, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around to come face to face with Yuna.

“Hey,” she beamed. She must’ve seen you. How did she get out?

“Oh. Hey,” you smiled back.

“Can we meet at the bridge later? I’d like to get some fresh air after my dinner,” she requested.

You smiled and agreed. You set a time, then split off in your own separate ways to go about your evenings. You couldn’t really focus on your uncle’s rambling that night, you mind drifting to Yuna’s smile while your uncle said something about the stock market.

9pm. That was the time you’d arranged to see her. On the pretext of taking a walk, you slipped out of your uncle's house and journeyed down the street towards the bridge. She was there by the time you’d gotten there, a bright smile that could light up the darkness gracing her features when she caught sight of you. She let you walk over to her before handing you something. It felt like a stick.

“What are these?” you asked.

“Lanterns,” she answered, turning hers on, “Chuseok is coming up. The Chinese like to carry lanterns and take walks on that day. I thought we should do something while I’m still in this town, make some memories, you know?”

The lanterns she had purchased were from Mrs Lee’s general store. Mrs Lee had always been obsessed with Chinese culture, particularly in terms of decorations and practices. She sold those lanterns all year round, even though no one really bothered to buy them.

You and Yuna walked around the town with your lanterns, talking and laughing, laughing and talking… It was a night to be alive. It was nice to see Yuna in this light. You’d grown out of your 2 dimensional perception of her, discovering the multitudes she possessed. On the surface, she was simply Shin Yuna, ITZY’s maknae and visual. Beneath that, there was Shin Yuna, the nineteen year old girl who could easily make someone smile and blush. Then beneath that was Shin Yuna, a nineteen year old girl who craved regularity, a nineteen year old girl who wanted to be momentarily freed from the glitz and glam. You were happy that she trusted you enough to be comfortable around you, and you were more than happy to have that gut feeling that she was truly being herself with you.

“This town is amazing…” she remarked as you found yourselves before the bridge once more. You’d walked a full round around the town by then, lost in conversation as you took turns down the roads on a whim.

“Maybe you should just move here,” you joked.

“Oh how I wish I could!” she sighed, “everything’s so nice here… I wish I could just stay here forever…”

I wish I could stay here forever. She always had a tendency to say that. While working in the bookstore, she’d let it slip. When you were talking with her on the bridge, she’d say it at least once. She struck you as someone who was vocal with their opinions, someone who would freely speak her mind if she could. You enjoyed listening to her long, rambling talks about her various life stories. Though you could never bear to listen to such rants from your uncle, you found hers enjoyable to listen to. There was a certain way she drew you in with her voice, your attention becoming captive to her tone and intonation while she went on and on…

When you parted ways with her that night, you found that you wanted her to stay and talk with you a little longer. Of course, you never vocalised this desire. She’d already broken rules to come out and see you that night, the last thing you wanted was to get her in trouble.

As you walked home with your lantern that night, you wondered what it would be like to date a girl like Yuna.

***

Drier air.

That’s what you felt had changed that late October morning when you stepped out of your uncle’s house.

“Aish… Winter is coming already,” your uncle grumbled, “time passes so fast these days… I ought to keep a better track of it.”

It was Yuna’s final weekend in the town. She was due to leave by Tuesday next week. As expected, Midzys showed up in front of the door, prompting your uncle and you to wrap around to the back entrance, where Yuna was waiting. The female producer and the cameraman were right there with her, asking the idol some questions in front of the backdoor as you and your uncle approached. Her eyes seemed to light up upon the sight of you, the smile on her face growing wider as she waved to you.

“Yuna, focus on the interview,” the producer reminded her sternly. She quickly set her gaze back on the camera. Your uncle waited patiently for them to wrap up with their questions before opening the backdoor to the bookshop. As you walked in, Yuna walked up to your right and whispered right into your ear. “10pm. Bridge. Don’t be late.”

You’d never wanted a shift to end so badly.

That night, you met her at your usual haunt. Her smile—Usually brimming with joy—was noticeably sadder, dimmer under the moon’s beam. It felt hard to accept that her time in this town was running thin. You wished that there was a way to extend your fleeting time with this woman, find a way to make some more memories with her. Alas, time could only move forward at a rate unknown to you. Autumn was slowly becoming Winter, and Yuna would soon be gone from this town. Every moment was now more precious than ever.

The truth you kept to yourself—Though your heart fluttered around her, you knew that you and her could only remain in this stage of friendship. Progressing forward to a new stage of a relationship would be hard. You could only hold on to her as a friend, hoping that she wouldn’t forget you when she returned back to the big city.

The two of you stayed out late that night, eating dried fruits from Miss Cho’s and drinking some Makgeolli that Yuna had bought and snuck out.

“My last day as a human,” she told you that night while cracking open the bottle, “then it’s back to being a doll…”

Human… Why could she never seem to prove to everyone else that she was human as well? The fame, the shining lights, the pedestal that she’d been placed on… They all created a false image for her. It brought forth a notion—She was privileged, someone who could receive the attention of fans and brands alike. There was no room for blemishes, her body “perfect” and her personality flawless. She had to accept all that, live with it without a fuss or hassle.

When she rambled about this, tears flowed freely from her eyes—Years of pent up anger, sentiments of unfairness and many other emotions coming forth in moonlit steaks that ran down her face. You poured her another glass of Makgeolli. She tossed it back to soothe the pain.

“You know… I always feel so comfortable with you,” she whispered, “it’s like I’m talking to an old friend… Someone who actually understands me.”

Under the stars that night, the two of you admittedly got a little tipsy on the bridge. Under the stars that night, Yuna had let slip her true feelings towards you. Under the stars that night, you two shared a kiss, one that would change the complexity of your relationship, spurred by the raw emotions of the night that had manifested through the catalyst that was alcohol.

As your fingers ran through her hair and her hands held on to your waist, she leaned on your shoulder and whispered some words into your ear. They weren’t words that you wanted to hear, but you knew that you’d just have to accept them.

It pained the both of you to know that you could never truly love each other the way you wanted to. The expectations of her company and of society set a boundary, one that kept you two so far yet so close. While you saw her as a regular human, she still had to abide by the rules and regulations of the company that controlled her. Those rules defined her, the regulations moulding her into something no longer human. It made her life strict and unforgiving.

She was like an unwilling puppet, trying in vain to resist the commands of those who had power over her. A sisyphean task it proved to be.

To them, she was an idol. And according to them—Idols and humans were not to love each other.

***

Dried flowers

That was what you held behind your back that morning where you saw the ITZY girls off. You and your uncle waited outside the house they stayed in, dried flowers tucked away behind you. Then they came out. The five of them, rolling out their luggages, dressed warmly to combat the rapidly dropping temperature. She caught sight of you. A sad, warm, gentle smile crossed her face. The bosses of the shops that the girls had worked for respectively had all come to bid farewell to them, giving you some time to talk to her one last time. The goodbyes were tearful, full of hugs and “I’ll miss you”s. Yuna gave your uncle a hug, then she turned to you. Surprisingly, neither of you shed a tear as you stared at each other.

You produced the dried flowers that you’d gotten from the florist and presented them to her.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she accepted them.

“Glad you like them,” you replied, “try and keep them alive okay?”

She stared up at you for a moment.

When the first teardrop rolled down her face, you didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She cried into your chest, a million and one apologies bursting forth as she held you tight. It was as if it was her fault that the two of you could not start a proper relationship. It was as if you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you as tight as she could.

When it was time to go, you dried her eyes to the best of your ability. She gripped the dried flowers tight, a grim look on her face as she said, “I’ll take some time to think about us… When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there.”

You smiled. “Alright then, I’ll wait.”

She fiddled with the wrapping of the dried flowers.

“Till then,” Yuna requested, “could I be selfish and ask you to hold on to these feelings?”

You smiled and assured her that you’d try to. When we meet again, I’ll let you decide if we should kiss or not, she told you.

In the cold morning air, you made a then-and-there decision to share one last kiss with her, not caring about the fact that staff and her other members were present at the scene. As the van took her away from the town, your uncle placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked you.

You wiped a tear from your eye and whispered, “I hope those dried flowers won’t die as quickly as they did last time.”

***

The cold snap hit when you came back to the town. A fresh, fluffy and thick sheet of snow covered the streets. Your boots made a satisfying crunch with each step you took, the frigid winter air biting your face as you hurried towards the bookstore. All around you, people walked up and down the street. City people—you recognised their accents.

You found it hard to adjust back to life in the city. The roar of the traffic was jarring, making you yearn for the quiet of the town streets. The pavements were jam packed with people, making you long to return to the empty streets of your uncle's humble town. The subway was packed like sardines, making you think about the times where you could get to wherever you wanted on foot. It was safe to say that you had some forms of withdrawal symptoms, but you eventually got over it. Then university came. The workload was immense, the readings mountainous. It took you some time to figure out a way to efficiently cover all the content you needed to, but you eventually found your footing. You were in your last year now. Time was truly so fleeting, a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

Now that you were back in this familiar place, a sense of comfort filled your being. Not much had changed over the course of your four year absence. Aside from the fresh coats of paint and increase in tourists, everything was just as they were when you left.

The bookshop was teeming with life when you entered. You were pleasantly surprised. You remembered your uncle telling you about how good the winter crowds were, but you ever imagined it to be this good. You hurriedly removed your scarf and coat before approaching the counter. There, your uncle was busy packing book after book into paper bags. You hung your coat on the coat rack and grabbed an apron.

“I’m back,” you said, taking your place next to your relative. Your uncle cast a glance towards you.

“I’ll greet you later. Busy now,” he mumbled. You chuckled and tied the strings of your apron behind your back.

It didn’t take long before you settled back into that old rhythm—Open, pack, take the bills. Open, pack, take the bills. It brought an odd sense of joy into your heart. You’d missed the monotony of this life.

The bookstore closed a little later that day. You waited till the last customer had slipped out into the cold evening air to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”. Then you shut the door behind you.

“I should really employ a part timer,” your uncle mused. He beat his lower back with a clenched fist. “The crowds are only growing these days… I’ll need some help.”

Then he waddled over you. With a warm smile, your uncle pulled you into a warm embrace.

“Welcome back, nephew. It’s good to see you again.”

You hugged him back. The usual old people's statements ensued—How have you been? You’ve grown taller! Jeez… You’ve gotten a little more plump! Have you been eating well? The same old questions were hurled at you. You were happy to answer them all.

You helped your uncle close up shop for the day. To celebrate your return, he took you down to Mrs Han’s to have a barbeque. The restaurant owner greeted you with her wrinkly, warm smile and welcomed you back to town. The meat was fresh, well marbled and tender. Freshly imported Mrs Han had told you, they just came in today! You came back at the right time!

It was safe to say that your belly was filled that night. Mrs Han had kindly put the cost of the meal on the house, and your uncle hurried you out of the restaurant when you insisted on paying.

“It’s rare for her to be this generous. Accept it while you can,” he told you. You rolled your eyes. He was as thrifty as always.

Your uncle took you to the bridge that night. Proper lighting had been installed on it, small yet powerful lamps illuminating the path as you and your uncle stood side by side on the apex of the bridge. The river was frozen over, the trees around it bald and bare.

“You should’ve came back in the spring,” he remarked, “there were more flowers this time. It was beautiful.”

“I can imagine that,” you replied.

Your uncle sighed heavily, a sizable cloud forming before his face. “You know… She came back this spring.”

“Is that so?” you replied alarmingly calmly. Your voice betrayed your emotions. It felt like a small ball was caught in your throat. “How is she?”

“She seems alright, definitely grew a few centimetres,” he told you.

“Is she healthy?” you pressed.

“She definitely looked a little more plump in the face. She’s seemed a lot stronger,” your uncle replied.

Silence hung between the two of you. Then your uncle inquired, “You never managed to see her in the city, did you?”

You lowered your gaze to the frozen water.

“No…” you grimaced, “I… I could never find a way to see her.”

The truth—It felt like fate was against you. You could never secure a ticket to any of her performances, nor could you ever get into any of her fanmeets—Online and physical. You never expected that you’d face such difficulty in trying to see Yuna, but you persevered nonetheless. When the university workload came in however, you found your free time had been stripped from you, tossed out to the wind as assignment after assignment plagued your days. Yuna couldn’t be your top priority no matter how much you wanted her to be. You didn’t know why the idea of getting her phone number never crossed your mind while she was with you. Then again, exchanging phone numbers could have landed her in trouble…

You told this to your uncle. He nodded silently.

“I guess we were never meant to be a thing,” you whispered dejectedly, “I was a fool to hold on to those memories”

Your uncle sighed and patted your shoulder. “Some memories never heal. Rather than fading with the passage of time, those memories become the only things that are left behind when all else is abraded…”

“Han Kang,” you muttered. It was one of the quotes from her book Human Acts. You had a paper on that book coming next term. Your time at the bookstore made you discover your love for books, hence you pursued a degree in Literature in university.

“You remember,” your uncle chuckled. It was one of the first books that he’d made you read. “Your memory serves you well, nephew.”

The quote he’d recited could be interpreted in many ways. In the context of the book, the protagonist spoke of their memories in the bloody Gwangju massacre in 1981. The sights, sounds and horrors left them scarred for life, so scarred that they’d take them to the grave—hence the usage of heal in memories never heal. Healing meant forgetting.

For you, healing meant forgetting too. The only difference—You didn’t want to heal. You wanted to keep those memories carved into your brain, make them a permanent part of your being. You wanted to ingrain that smile in your vision, keep that voice playing on loop in your ears. You were more than willing to take those memories to your grave.

“First a breakup, now this,” you muttered, “am I not built for love, uncle?”

“Everyone is built for love,” came his instant reply, “it’s just a matter of finding the right person to receive love from.”

The right person…

Your parents were meant to follow you on this visit back to the town, but last minute work held them up in the city. They’d found an Airbnb house in the town for the three of you, but now you had it to yourself. As you laid down on the bed, you found that the silence was deafening.

Silently, you wondered what’d be like to date a girl like Yuna. She felt like the right person.

Maybe all of those emotions were just teen hormones. Maybe the feelings were just bright out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you didn’t actually love her, maybe it was more of an infatuation. It all sounded logical and reasonable to you.

Yet when you saw her again, all of that no longer seemed to make sense.

There she stood in the cold winter morning, scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs atop her head. In her gloved hands, a bright pink tote bag, a bouquet of flowers sticking out from the opening. She stood before the store, staring at the closed shutter, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hair—Red when you first saw her—Had been returned to its natural colour. She was as beautiful as the day you said goodbye to her.

You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. When she turned her head, you were convinced that her jaw dropped open as wide as yours when the two of you locked eyes.

Then in the next moment, she was in your arms. She had her ear pressed to the left side of your chest, as if she needed to hear your heartbeat to verify that you were truly there.

“Hey,” was all you could manage.

“Hi,” she whispered back, “it’s been awhile.”

Her eyes gleamed with the same childlike wonder. Her smile was as genuine as you’d remembered. You wanted to kiss her to see if her lips would feel the same, but…

When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there…

She did give you the freedom of choice to kiss her when you reunited, but you decided against it.

Catchup was done in the warm respite of the bookstore. With aprons adorning your bodies, you filled each other in on what you’d missed in each other's lives. This was all done to the backdrop of filling in shelves and rearranging stacks of books. Lunch came and your uncle left the two of you on your own. You got some tteokbokki with her from Mrs Han’s—to go of course—and hit your old spot.

“Even without the leaves, this place is still so stunning,” she mused, staring out at the frozen water.

“I still prefer it in Spring,” you told her, “I like it better when the trees are less… Bald.”

She laughed at that.

When the sun started to set on the small town, your uncle made the executive decision to close up early. The sun may be gone, but the night is young he told you with a wink. You gave him a grateful smile and took off your apron. He let the two of you go off early that day.

Dinner that night was once again at Mrs Han’s, and she wasn’t so generous that night. A walk around town was what she asked for afterwards, both of your footsteps seemingly synchronised to produce rhythmic crunches in the snow. At one point, she’d stopped walking to gather up a handful of snow, forming a hefty snowball to chuck at you. You didn’t hesitate to fight back.

“University sounds tough,” she mused, munching on some grapes from Miss Cho’s.

“I think it’s just my course,” you remarked, “the rest of my batchmates seem to be having a relatively good time.”

“Literature is demanding,” she agreed, “but what do you wanna do with it in the future?”

You sighed and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I’m still figuring that out…”

“Maybe you can become a writer,” she suggested, “write some screenplay… Make it different from the usual stuff.”

“I’d probably need to save up some money before I do that,” you chuckled, “I have a degree that guarantees a higher chance of living on the streets than living on someone’s couch.”

She laughed at that too. Then she said, “hey, maybe you should come work for my company when you’re done with university. That way, we can see each other more often too.”

You chuckled. “That’s a possibility… I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

“I’ll make sure to vouch for you,” she declared, “the big boss likes me enough to listen to me…”

You laughed and nodded. Silence hung between you two.

Then it was time for the hard question.

“So are you seeing anyone?” you asked her. Yuna licked a grape seed off her lips before answering.

“I’d like to think so…”

Your heart sank, but you still cocked your head in feigned curiosity, “oh? What do you mean?”

Yuna bit down on her lip. “I mean… I like him, but I’m not sure if he still likes me.”

“Ah,” you mused.

“Yea…” Yuna sighed. She looked up at you and asked, “what about you?”

You took a moment to formulate an answer. “I think… I’m just waiting for love as of now.”

“Ah,” Yuna parroted, “well… I wish you the best in that then.”

There was a sudden tension in the air. It was like your respective cryptic messages had conjured a rubber band of the mind, pulling it out to its maximum length as you continued your silent journey down the street. Perhaps your hopes were set a little too high—You’d expected her to remember the love that existed four years ago, run back into your open arms so that you could shower her with kisses. But you’d forgotten—No… Chose to forget what she’d told you on the bridge that night.

I love you. I know that it’s too late for this, but I love you. I’m sorry we can’t love in the same way others do, but do know that deep down, I wish to love you in the same manner that you love me. It’s confusing, I know… But my life doesn’t allow us to share the life we want to. I’m sorry.

It was a painful thing to hear, but you still kissed her right afterwards, and you still kissed her the morning after. You now realised that perchance, you’d gambled a little too much, gone all in with the chips of your heart only to lose. You didn’t understand why she couldn’t date freely, be with someone that truly made her happy. She was a human, a human deserved to give love and be loved.

She got a call a few minutes later. It’s my manager. I gotta go now.

She gave you a small wave, handed you the last few grapes from the container. Then, with a it was nice seeing you again, Yuna turned on her heel and walked off. The grapes felt oddly heavy in your hands. Again, she was to disappear from your life. Like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy, she spilled through the gaps between your fingers once more. This felt like a scenario you’d read in books a thousand times over, and frankly, it sucked.

But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today.

Osamu Dazai had said that. You weren’t sure why you thought of it as you watched her back get smaller and smaller by the second.

Hoping faintly for happiness? Is that what I’m meant to do? You asked yourself. She was getting further by the second. Hoping faintly for a chance that she’d turn back, you stood there. She never did.

Hoping faintly…

No. You wouldn’t settle for that.

The grapes fell from your hands as you ran towards the girl that you’d so hoped to see again. Four long years you’d tried and failed. Now, with the opportunity right in your grasp, you were certain that you had to make something out of it.

In three more bounds, you were right behind her. Yuna you called, grabbing her by the shoulder. You didn’t give her time to say anything before you turned her around and planted your lips on hers. She yelped, her body tensing as you held her cheeks in the cradle of your palms.

A quiet smack resonated when your lips parted. Yuna trembled in your grasp, teary eyes gazing into yours.

“I’ve been waiting for your love Yuna,” you admitted to her, “for four years, I tried to see you again but I just never could. We said that we wanted to sort out what we meant to each other when we met again, but we failed to do that today. Tell me Yuna—What am I to you?”

She let out a shuddery breath, the smell of grapes saturating the air.

“I-I have to go,” she muttered.

You were tired of waiting.

“Yuna please,” you begged.

She looked away, as if contemplating if she should give you her answer.

“You… You are who I want to love,” she whispered, “I-I thought that… Maybe I was too selfish to ask you to keep loving me for all these years. I-I guess I didn’t expect this selfishness to be rewarded.”

“It isn’t selfish,” you corrected her, “it’s… It’s human Yuna. The desire to want someone to keep loving you, that’s human.”

Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Right… I can only feel like a human when I’m with you.”

Suddenly, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. You pulled her in once more, holding her as tight as she did on the day she left your life. You kissed her, tender and passionate as she gripped the fabric of your jacket. Her perfume was sickly sweet, intoxicating and lulling you deeper into her body as she reciprocated the kiss. Her hair, cold and slightly damp from the snowball you threw at her, was silky, smooth to run your fingers through. The repeated dying of it had definitely affected its quality, but only in the slightest.

Her voice was strained when your lips parted, but you could clearly make out what she’d said.

I don’t want to go back tonight. I want to be here with you.

When the first teardrop rolled down her cheek, you didn’t hesitate to wipe it away.

“You’d be breaking some rules won’t you?” you questioned.

“I’ve broken them before. I can always break them again,” she replied, “humans were made to break some rules after all…”

With a smile, you let your hand slip into hers. It was warm, just like any other human. In her eyes, there was a gleam that every other human could possess. In her smile, there was a sincerity and joy that any other human could show. Sure, the Dispatch article that posted the photo of you kissing Yuna did call it the unexpected relationship between a top idol and a civilian.

But in your eyes, Yuna was as human as anyone could ever be.

Dried things and humanity—An unlikely combination for a love story, but it was certainly fit to start the first chapter of your story with Yuna.

_______________________

Hello! A rare, smutless Yuna fic has mad its way onto my blog. I know it'll disappoint a lot of you guys, but this is what I wanted to write, so here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this one. Take a break from the horny and have some simple love <;3.

~Lots of love, Nichuuu

#shin yuna #itzy yuna #fanfic #writing #kpop #fluff #itzy fluff #kpop fluff

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novelizt · 7 months

Text

PEERING EYES OVER WROUGHT-IRON FENCES ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ childhood friends (to estranged friends) to lovers. angst w/ a happy ending.

WC ➺ 12.2k

SYNOPSIS ➺ to uncover the mystery of iris griffith's murder, it's time to face the music, cross the fence, and talk to a friend you never expected to become a stranger to.

WARNINGS ➺ mentions of the lockwood family tragedies, strained family dynamics, discussions and descriptions of murder

DISCLAIMER ➺ fem! reader. lockwood & co. are aged up to about 18-years-old, I try to shoe-horn forensic science into psychical investigations (I am not a professional so... it's unrealistic, sorry.), and Lockwood calls reader cherry/cherry cheeks

NOTE ➺ I can't remember if Portland Row has wrought-iron fences. In case it doesn't, it does now — this is fan fiction. Also, this is the first time I've finished a story this lengthy and I feel really proud of myself. I hope you enjoy!

The first time Lockwood had laid eyes on you, you were a set of peering eyes over a wrought-iron fence. He could barely see over it, but he could remember how round and shiny your eyes were. All doll-like and unrealistic. Honestly, it scared him. You couldn't blame little Lockwood for scuttling back to his sister.

That same day, your parents had brought you over and formally introduced themselves. Between your parents's statuesque figures, stood you.

Contrary to your encyclopaedic eyes, your mannerisms were timid. You looked miniscule in your Sunday dress. You looked like a breeze could knock you over. Anthony couldn't help but feel bad for running from you earlier.

Following introductions, a terse dinner ensued. Your parents were doctors, the kind who would scamper about in hospitals in scrubs and white coats — people who believed in science. His were researchers who dabbled in spiritual devices of different cultures — people who preferred to find the emotional aspect in the supernatural. Suffice it to say, the conversation was very one-sided.

Even then, Anthony was determined to be your friend. He thought having pretentious parents, like yours, would spoil the fun in things like spinning tops or fencing or enjoying pie with ice cream after supper. (Your parents had insisted the sugar would make it difficult for you to sleep.)

Anthony had made up his mind before you even uttered a word to him.

The instant the adults had dismissed you to the living room with Anthony and Jessica, he had snuck you a pie with extra ice cream on top. He and Jessica had their backs to the door so in the unlikely event that your parents came in, they wouldn't see you breaking their rules.

You weren't much younger than Anthony back then, but with cherry smeared across your cheek and ice cream clinging to your lip, he thought you were as cute as a button. He wasn't aware that he had been smiling at you so widely.

He missed the knowing glint in Jessica's eyes.

Across the peaceful months you'd spent as friends, Anthony and Jessica would tell you about their parents' most recent findings and you'd tell them the most bizarre concepts you learned at the academy.

At night, Anthony would sit by the window in his attic room, flagging out written messages on a sketch pad. Across the way, you would poke your head out to read it.

lots of apples are falling these days. want some?

my parents won't let me

that's because an apple a day keeps the doctors away. i think they're scared

no way... papa says he cuts people open. how could he be scared of apples?

ew... and I dunno, cherry. do you want apples or not?

stop calling me that

apples?

sure...

come down

ARE YOU MENTAL??

He was, indeed, crazy. He had tiptoed all the way downstairs and grabbed his mother and father's favorite jackets on the way out.

In the bite of night and the glow of ghost-lamps, he looked up at your house to see your head poking out of of a different window, a crazed expression on your face. 'What are you doing?' you mouthed.

"Hurry!" He yelled back. He chuckled when you'd flinched and checked behind you. He held up the jackets and took a breath, watching in amazement as fog formed from it.

All while you tapped the window sill in thought. You took one more contemplative glance behind you, then shut the window.

You were vaulting over the fence in no time. He caught you, cushioning your fall with the jackets he'd taken and greeted you with an incandescent smile. Even in greenlight, your little heart skipped a beat.

"Here. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold. We'd both be in trouble if you did."

He threw his mother's coat over your head. It was so big, it enveloped you like a gown. You tried to slip your arms through the sleeves but you only got halfway before you wiggled the limp fabric in his face. He swatted you away but folded them up enough so your palms could come through.

His father's jacket was huge on him, too, but he had the kind of air that made him look natural in it.

In his efforts to help you, his own hands had turned red from the cold. You seized them and stuffed them in your pockets, since your—his mother's—jacket had the lined pockets.

After huddling for warmth, you two grew warm enough to walk further into the backyard and pick up handfuls of apples. You found that you could only fit three apples in each pocket, so you held more by tucking your shirt into your pants and shooting them into your shirt. Anthony had done the same. You didn't realize how ridiculous your actions were until you saw how puffed his figure looked with that many apples stuffed down his shirt.

You snorted so loud it hurt, slapping your hand over your mouth to kill any more laughs that could alert the sleeping adults.

He turned his head to you, like an owl. It made more apples fall from your shirt as your shoulders shook. He shushed you, frantically glancing at the house. "What's wrong with you?"

You shook your head, riding the wave of maturity before it crashed. Little laughs and apples spilled from you. "You look like a pufferfish!"

He looked down and examined himself then, indignantly, he pointed at you. "You're literally spewing apples, you're just as bad!"

Restraint crumbled. Your hand came away and your laughs filled the silent night air. Anthony's laughs began to dance with yours until the pair of you were reduced to shaking stumps surrounded by fallen apples.

"Don't look at me! You're making me laugh!"

"Your face is funnier!"

"Stop it!"

"Cherry— You're only making me laugh more!"

It was no surprise that his parents had woken up and scolded you two accordingly. While they tutted at you, you two sat under the same blanket. Elbowing each other when they began to question who'd initated it.

You weren't a snitch. You did not tell, and they never found out who caused the trouble.

Jessica later rewarded you both with a cookie under their noses. You cracked your cookie in half to share with her. Anthony did the same to his, giving his other half to you.

—

Those memories were a far cry from the present. On some days, they felt like dreams. Now, all you are to him is a pair of peering eyes over wrought-iron fences.

Lockwood would catch glimpses of you on the way back from a case. He would nod, you would nod. Then both of you would continue on with your lives like the era of cherry pies and fallen apples had never happened.

Some days, he would turn the newspapers, checking to see if student doctor you had earned any new accolades in your scholastic journey to saving lives, but he never had it in him to say hello to you.

That morning's issue had you on the front page. You with your resplendent eyes and smile finally sporting a white coat at the ripe of eighteen, the first one of your age to earn 'Doctor' as a suffix to your name. Apparently, you'd applied your studies on forensic science to aid psychical investigations involving mummified body parts.

Seems you were doing well.

He placed the paper face down on the thinking cloth, ignoring Lucy's questioning gaze as he took a sip of tea.

"What's happened now?" Lucy asked, stretching her neck to see what made him so upset. She settled back into her seat after she set her eyes on the crossword puzzle, unable to glimpse the front page. "Kipps's crew?" she guessed.

"No, he would have his brow furrowed like this–" George turned to show his brows knitted together so hard they looked like they were drawn on with marker. "–if it was Kipps. It's got to be something else."

"Oh, right," Lucy said with bite, smacking her head like that made sense. "How could I forget?"

George shrugged, grinning like he had a secret on the tip of his tongue. "I don't know, Luce. Maybe it's the letters you've been receiving from one; Norrie White."

Lucy's chair scraped as she stood, gaping at George with anger tightening her mouth. "You went through my mail!"

"She wrote her name in marker. Red. Marker. I would have to be blind to miss it."

Lockwood kicked back and watched the drama ensue, a smile easing itself back on his face. Lucy and George's petty squabble was always a shot of espresso on a rather depressing morning. They made an excellent stopper to all his wonderings about the past.

"That was none of your business!" Lucy shrieked. In her fury, her hands itched to do something... to throw something.

Lockwood realized too late. He vaulted forward to pry the newspaper from her fingers, but Lucy's rage made her a savage. She chucked the newspaper at George with the velocity of a racing car.

The headlines collided with George's face with a resounding thud.

His glasses fell and landed with a unceremonious noise. Thankfully, unscathed from the impact.

The same could not be said for his nose.

George's face pulsed like he had been stung by the world's largest be. He splayed his hand over his nose to check for bleeding and groaned.

"That hurt..."

"Of course it did. I intended it to," Lucy huffed. She scooped up George's glasses and the paper. "That ought to teach you about looking at my correspondence."

"Didn't have to thump me that hard though," George grumbled, snatching his glasses back.

He looked like a dartboard bullseye wearing glasses. Lockwood couldn't focus on it though. His eyes were honed in on the newspaper Lucy was currently unraveling.

He bit his cheek and decided to finish his tea in one gulp. "Well," Lockwood started, fixing his collar as he stood. "I'd better see what we're taking on tonight. I'll be—"

"Hey, this is that girl next door." Lucy pushed her face closer to the paper to reassure herself that she wasn't seeing wrong. She'd seen that blouse and trouser combo on you a few days ago. "Yeah! That's her!"

George showed a rare kind of expression. A raised brow aimed at Lockwood. "She's a doctor now. How could that be upsetting?"

"Don't tell me you have a rivalry with her because she poked you in the bum when you were little," Lucy joked.

Lockwood's face flushed. He looked at the kitchen door, contemplating escape, then back to his friends. He leaned on the doorframe, attempting to look lax but coming off as stiff as a board. "Who said I was upset?"

"You were quiet over tea," George said.

"What of it?" Lockwood pushed.

George gave him an are you kidding me kind of look. "You never shut up when you can help it."

"And you did this." Lucy copied his pondering face, and Lockwood grimaced—reminding himself to school his expressions better.

"Please. For all things good, never do that again, and I am not upset at her—"

"Defensive now? You so are," George chuckled.

Lockwood's jaw ticked. "I am not—"

Saved by the bell. All three heads turned to the door with interest. It was still early in the day, so a new client was unexpected.

"I'll get it," Lockwood said. He left a prattling Lucy and George in the winds of his coat.

The doorbell rang again before he got to it. "Keep your shirt on—"

George and Lucy idled at the foot of the stairs as the door swung open. George let out a gasp, Lucy elbowed him to keep quiet.

Speak of the devil and he will appear. Though, you were more seraphic in that white dress, innocently festooned with embroidered cherries. Your smile was as disarming as ever. It was even brighter than the light haloing your hair.

"Hello."

Lucy tripped over air at the sweetness of your voice, now understanding how the word 'mellifluous' came to be.

Lockwood was indifferent.

Just staring at the back of his head, Lucy knew he was sporting an expression reserved just for Kipps and his crew. It made her want to kick his shin and tell him to get himself together.

"Hi," Lockwood finally greeted, tone bleak. "What are you doing here?"

"Lockwood," George finally intervened. Seems he was taken by how you carried yourself, too.

Both your and Lockwood's heads turned to him.

"Oh, you must be George Karim." Your smile widened, outshining the light above the door. "And Lucy Carlyle. Pleasure to finally meet you."

Lucy and George rarely agreed on things, but they spoke like they were on the same wavelength then. "Pleasure is ours."

A little laugh escaped you, just as graceful as the swish of your skirt. You introduced yourself, discounting your new title. "My parents asked me to invite friends to my celebratory dinner tonight but I don't have people I'd really consider friends." Your honeyed eyes drifted back to Lockwood, trying not to wilt under his blasé gaze. "I was thinking you three could drop by. No need to bring anything but yourselves. We have pie and ice cream for dessert."

Hope was alight in your eyes. The insider statement flew over George and Lucy's heads, and apparently, Lockwood's too. Your expression dampened as it struck you.

"That sounds nice," George said pleasantly.

Lucy nodded in agreement. "And it's not every day we get invited to a free meal."

"With pie." George was already dreaming about it.

Lockwood let out a breath. "Sorry. We have a case tonight."

"No, that's for Friday night," George interrupted. "Isn't that right, Lucy?"

"That's right," Lucy doubled down.

Both of Lockwood & Co.'s best simply blinked and grinned at Lockwood's taut form.

"Great," you quipped. Your eyes lingered on Lockwood but moved to George and Lucy when he showed no interest in being civil. "I'll see you tonight, then. Have a nice day!"

"You too!"

Lockwood gave you a sufficient nod and lipped smile as he closed the door. The moment you were out of sight, the room turned sepia.

Silence for a moment, then George.

"There is definitely something going on here."

—

Despite Lucy and George's joint efforts to pry answers from him, Lockwood did not bend. When the light began to die outside, they retired to their own rooms to prepare. Finally leaving him in silence.

Lockwood chose to wear his usual get-up. The only difference was his waistcoat. It sported a thin, stylish red stripe down it's right side; George had worn an unstained shirt for once, so he did put a bit more effort into his looks that evening; and Lucy wore her best skirt and sweater to put her best foot forward.

"Now," Lockwood said as they all spiraled down the steps. "You have to remember a few things about our neighbors."

"And that would be?" George rolled his eyes.

"They're doctors," Lockwood answered like it was a sin.

"All of them?" Lucy asked with interest.

"Yes, the entire family," Lockwood confirmed. "You have to remember that when they start getting weird about our work."

"Why?" Lucy flicked a crumb left on George's shoulder once they reached the last step. "We get help from hospitals when we need to examine post-mortem documents. It's not like our professions are worlds apart."

"You mean I get help," George corrected firmly. "Not like either of you do the grisly work when it comes to research."

"Well, you're the best at it," Lucy said placatingly.

"'Course I am," George nipped.

Lockwood shushed them. "Regardless of what they say, do not loose your cool. They think getting you worked up means they win.

"They can't be that bad. Your girl was nice enough," Lucy said.

Lockwood's brows furrowed then unfurrowed. "She's not my girl," he said, opening the door with zeal.

"Sure," Lucy grinned as she slipped past.

—

34 Portland Row looked the same as 35 from the outside. The interior decor made it clear that the home was made up of doctors. Successful ones, by the looks of it.

You greeted them at the door with the same radiatant smile from the papers. Your dress was marvelous but Lucy and George could not help but look over your shoulder, into the opulence of 34 Portland Row.

Like always, Lockwood greeted you with a nod and addressed you by name. It wasn't much but you accepted it with cheeks strained from practicing your smile.

As you lead them to the dining room, their eyes wandered at their own volition. Lockwood couldn't help but do the same.

The crystal chandelier in the living room was as decadent as ever; the doorknobs had been changed to be made of glass and silver; the bookshelves were packed with newer books—likely yours; the wall next to the stairs still held your height measurements from years ago. He caught your eye as he did so, trying not to flinch at the waves of melancholy that crashed over him. He chose to look at the back of your head as the light of the dining room enveloped them.

Like every room in this house, a chandelier sat in the middle. Everything was gleaming. Not a speck was out of place, except maybe him. Perfect, just like the family that lived here.

The table was already set with steaming meals of steak, veggies, and mashed potatoes. There was a pitcher of juice in the middle but Lockwood noticed that he, Lucy, and George's glasses were already filled with water. Your mother had just finished filling the last one when she offered her most deceitful smile.

"Anthony Lockwood and friends..." your mother greeted. Her tone was eloquent but the drawl in it sent an unwelcomed pang of anxiety through Lockwood, he tensed then forced himself to relax. "Haven't seen you around lately, Tony."

"Running a business does eat time, unfortunately." He spared her a terse smile and sat at the chair you directed him to — just across from you. Lucy sat beside you, and George had the misfortune of sitting next to your father. Lockwood cleared his throat to break the silence. "You haven't aged a day, Mrs.—"

"Doctor, actually. We've had this conversation before," she chortled with a furled smile you would only expect from the devil's mistresses.

Lucy and George found sudden interest in their food. Your shoulders sunk, but like times before, you didn't say anything. Lockwood tried not to look surprised.

"Right... Doctor. My apologies." He straightened himself in his seat. "You two look swell. How has the winter been treating you?"

"Oh, it's absolutely tiring," your father said. He had the kind of tone that suggested that he was always pouting. At least he wasn't spitting venom while he was talking about himself. "Patients coming in but rarely being able to make it out. Terrible thing, really."

"Sorrows to those who have passed because of the upstart," your mother chipped in. "Our little darling saved some lives in lieu of her recent graduation, and she's only been a doctor for a few days!"

Your mother smiled at you. You refused to look up from your dinner. "All I did was administer CPR. The hospital was understaffed that day. I work in a different department, mama."

Her smile faded before her eyes snapped to Lockwood, her grin sharpening.

"Can you imagine that? Not even a day as a doctor and she's already on the papers. Real talent gets recognized straight away, everyone knows."

Your father did not finish chewing his steak before he joined in. "Kids these days run around wasting their time on things other than their academics. What do they expect to do after their talents fade, huh? Our girl has no worries in that department."

George pushed his plate away after a blob of spit landed on his potatoes. He thought it was best to put down his utensils as well. His grip was turning his knuckles white. Lucy had resorted to pushing her asparagus to calm the anger beginning to stoke in her mind. They were beginning to see why Lockwood did not want to come. The aforementioned remained with a practiced smile on his face.

Your eyes conveyed your apologies yet Lockwood refused to look at you. You were as meek as the girl Lockwood first saw over the fence. Your voice was weaker when you used it in this house. "Mama, papa. Those kids risk their lives to make living easier for everyone. Bravery like that can't be learned from textbooks."

"No, but keeping your nose out of that business altogether will keep you alive." Your mother's expression changed, a beguiling woman turning into medusa before their very eyes.

You sunk under the weight of her stare. You might as well have turned to stone.

"Knowledge keeps you alive," your father added. "Perusing supernatural business will only end with dead kids or orphans who have to resort to psychical work to get by. Some of them work up the nerve to call it a real profession."

A resounding ring resounded from Lockwood's side of the table. He had dropped his knife. His smile had gone. His lips twitched, like he wasn't sure what to do or say. Ultimately saying nothing.

Your eyes glossed over, anger and sadness swirling together in your belly. You were ready to let loose, to set your parents straight. Yet, one look at your father's face was enough to have you curling in on yourself.

The temperature dropped like the conversation had. No one said a thing when smoke began to choke the room.

"Well," your mother cheered. "Seems like the pie is ruined. I'm afraid we'll have to end supper here."

—

Lucy rushed the door open, just itching to unload the tangle of colorful words she'd thought up in that stuffy house of yours.

"They were horrendous," George said, throwing his flannel aside. "I thought that junior doctor was nice but now I know she's Medusa's spawn."

"She is. And have you seen her dad?" Lucy doubled down. She considered going downstairs to release her pent-up emotions but thought better of it. "Terrible, the lot of them."

Lockwood had thought the same cruel thoughts but hearing it from them made him defensive. You weren't bad. You were just a bystander. Your lack of responses hurt as bad as your parents's passive-aggressive jabs, but you weren't even close to being half the evil your parents were. He felt his stomach churning as they began to drag your name through the dirt.

"We are never going back there," George declared. "You were right, Lockwood."

"I need 24 hours of sleep to recover from it. I've never felt so murderous before." That was Lucy's way of saying goodnight. She started for the steps right after.

"I think we should go back. So you can finish the job," George said, following Lucy up the stairs.

Lockwood stumbled ahead, throwing his coat on the newel and collapsing at the foot of the steps. From where he lazed, he continued to hear Lucy and George bicker.

"Maybe you could call up that Norrie White to help you get away with murder," George said encouragingly.

"Don't even start on that, George," Lucy warned.

Her door closed.

"Fine," George said despondenty. "It was just a suggestion, geez."

His door closed, too.

Lockwood let out a breath. It felt like his soul had left his body for a moment of reprieve. He didn't have even five minutes of silence before he heard urgent taps reverberating through his ears. He sat up, alarmed, trying to assess where the noise could have come from.

After a quick sweep, he swung the kitchen door open and discovered you on the other side of the garden door, knuckles raping against the glass with a pained look on your face.

He contemplated leaving you out in the cold but decided that he wasn't that kind of person. He opened the door and wasn't all that surprised that your habit of forgetting a jacket stayed true. You were shivering.

"Anthony—"

"Give me a moment," he interrupted. He turned, walked back to the steps to retrieve his coat, then returned to drape it over your shoulders. "Come in. Sit. You never remember to bring a coat at night, stubborn girl."

You smile despite the frost on your face. Your face turns pink as the warmth of 35 Portland Row thaws you. He sits you on his usual seat and takes George's cushioned seat instead.

"Old habits die hard," you chuckle, holding his coat tighter. If you bent your head enough, you would get a whiff of him on it. You could have tried to do it inconspicuously but he was sitting right there, he would know. "I'm sorry... for everything. I thought they wouldn't– I really should have known they would say things like that. I apologize for them. I really do feel bad. If Mr. Karim and Ms. Carlyle are still up, I'd like to tell them as well."

"They've retired for the night," he reports. He redacts the part that they were discussing the demise of your family. "but thank you for coming to say that."

"And I'm sorry I didn't say anything," you add.

Lockwood doesn't say anything to that. In his mind, you would have stopped them if you were really sorry. "Why did you come here? And please don't say you're inviting us to another dinner."

"Goodness, no." You snort. "I... have a case. I don't know who else to surrender the evidence to."

His brows jump. "You're asking for psychical service? From me? Us, I mean."

You nod. "I hear that Ms. Carlyle is particularly gifted. What I think we're facing is something special. Something no regular agent can feel out."

"Why hasn't Fittes or Rotwell been put up to this if it's that important?"

"Because it's a personal study of mine." You drop a manila folder on the thinking cloth. Lockwood didn't even notice you were holding it earlier. "It's a closed case. An unsolved one. The autopsy is gruesome and justice was never brought to the victim. I searched her property myself and found the source. I tried to communicate with her but I can't do it."

"And you think Lucy is the Listener for the job?"

"Yes. I don't just want to get rid of a ghost, Anthony, I want to lay her to rest. To give her peace."

He leans back in his chair, drinking in the information while he raked a hand through his hair. "You investigated the area of the haunting alone?"

"In daylight," you said in your defense. "My sense of touch is useful enough for me to know if something is a source. Problem is, I can't get any psychical resonance to find out who had killed her."

"Amazing..." he breathed. He didn't know you had that level of sensitivity. Still, he had to think of this as an official case. He righted his posture immediately. "I'll ask George and Lucy in the morning. Can you come by at nine?"

"Yeah. My parents are at work before then. No worries about them."

"Good."

You nod, not knowing what else to do. "Good."

You stared at each other. Possibly taking in how much time had changed you; The scars he'd earned through the years, the callouses on your hands from studying, blemishes, changed mannerisms—and then the unspoken reminder that you had drifted apart after the Lockwood family turned from four to one. You were completely different people to the children who used to laugh through these halls.

"I better get going," you said. You couldn't handle Lockwood and his expressive eyes. You don't know if he was doing it consciously, but it was like you could see his sadness bleeding into the world just by glancing at them.

He nodded like a puppet on a string, pulling himself up and leading you to the garden door once more.

"Goodnight," you said, mustering a friendly smile that was, thankfully, returned.

"Night... Cherry," he replied.

You smiled for a moment more before you snuck back home. Neither of you remembered that you had his coat until morning.

—

You were knocking at 35 Portland Row at 8:55. You stood stiffly, not knowing how to conduct yourself after last night's catastrophe. Lockwood's coat was folded over your arm when George answered the door.

Opposite of the day before, his face was flat. If you turned around and left, you'd be doing him a favor. Unfortunately for him, you were there with intention.

"I need the help of Lockwood & Co."

George opened his mouth, probably thinking of some creative way to say 'shove off'. Lockwood's voice from the kitchen bellowed over his train of thought. "It that her? Let her in, Georgie."

George was mumbling something but he stepped aside and didn't stab you with a nearby rapier. You believed that meant there was a chance to redeem yourself.

You were lead to the receiving room where you were shortly joined by Lockwood and an either groggy or bloodthirsty Lucy. George had retired to the kitchen to bring in biscuits. You hadn't earned the respect to have cake in the vicinity.

Lockwood lead the conversation, eyes trained on you. It made you conscious enough to shuffle and pick at the frayed seams of his coat.

"You only gave us a few details about this case. Evidently it was murder but it was closed and unsolved for two decades."

"I have the rest here," you said, revealing another manila folder. This one was thicker, packed with all you knew about it. It was the real deal. As you passed it across the table, the three of them ogled at the vivid red 'confidential' stamp slanted across the front. "Her name was Iris Griffiths. She was a forensic scientist who cracked several unsolved cases in her time. She had sensitive hearing, from what her colleagues said. She wasn't working on any new cases before her housemate reported her dead on a random night."

"Was it during winter? She could have been ghost-touched." Lucy suggested with a clipped tone. She just wanted to close the case and never see you again.

You shook your head, reaching across and guiding Lockwood's hand to another page in the folder. "Her autopsy shows several lacerations and bruises but no remnants of ghost touch. Her body was already decomposing when she was found."

"And her flatmate? They could be a suspect." George pitched.

You shook your head again. "Celia Rodney was out of town with her fiancé. Several colleagues were interviewed and confirmed it."

Lockwood looked up. "Then we have to assume that it's someone from Griffith's personal life. Did she have a lover?"

"This is like the Annie Ward case all over again," Lucy groaned.

You continued nonetheless. "She did have a lover, actually. Howard Gasley was her co-worker and boyfriend. They had a good relationship, according to the interviews, so I don't suspect any foul play between them."

George leaned against the right side of his chair. There was a creak from the old thing but he ignored it. "What if their relationship was rocky behind the scenes?"

You looked down at the evidence file and sighed. "I guess we will find out when Ms. Carlyle's able to speak with her. All our suspects have solid alibis. To obtain justice for Iris Griffith, we'll have to be her witnesses."

George turns stiff. "We? Lockwood."

Lucy does the same. "You're asking me to communicate with a ghost?"

Lockwood tries to settle them down with a relaxed smile. "It's high time I stop scolding you for being good at what you do, Luce. Our client is explicitly asking you to exploit your talent and find us a killer. The client is always right. Isn't that right, George?"

George grumbles a reply you don't hear, and Lucy nods limply, like she can't comprehend the fact that Lockwood was being so lax about this. What happened to the dangers of communicating with ghosts?

Regardless, they realize that arguing with him was going to be a losing battle. He has that look in his eye—one akin to an adrenaline junkie who's about about to jump from a cliff, and his eyes are set on you.

Lucy and George watched as you returned his coat before they shot each other looks.

What happened to hating you and your white-coat family? Lockwood marched to the beat of his own drum, apparently.

They had their kits ready before dark and met you on the street you'd told them about. Lockwood saw your peering eyes over the run-down house's picket fence and quickened his pace.

"Lovely place," Lucy drawled, eyeing the chipping paint with faint curiosity. Two decades could do so much to a nice house.

"Very lively," George seconded with bite, side-stepping the corpse of a rat.

"I have the source inside, under a chain net," you inform them. You push open the door, wincing as the hinges break and send the wood slamming to the floor. "I hope the house holds long enough to finish this investigation."

"Finally," cheered Lucy. "something we can agree on."

Lockwood was contemplating over how to behave himself. One second, he was keeping pace with you, then walking ahead the next, then falling behind you. He cycled between all three, ignoring George's rolling eyes and Lucy's sighs until all four of you reach the second-floor's lavatory. Luckily, no one had fallen through the floor.

"Do tell me we're not dealing with supernatural turd," George begged.

Lucy wrinkled her nose. "I'll be the one doing the Listening so you can take your complaints outside, George."

"This might be worse," you answer them when you pull off the chain net from an odd looking thing. It looked like a starfish wrapped in ripped and yellowed tissue paper. Lucy gagged when she took a second look.

"Mummified hand," Lockwood said aloud, trying to keep a placid smile on his face. "I always tell you to never mess with mummified body parts but we'll have to make an exception."

"Mummified parts bridge the forensic and psychical field, unfortunately." You cover the source back up as a mercy to Lucy. "They couldn't find her hand before they autopsied her body. Found this under a plank in her bedroom."

"Handy," George said dryly.

Lucy glared at him. "Not the time."

"I'm not sorry," he replied.

"You could have mentioned this sooner," Lockwood interjected, turning his head to you.

You gave a smile in response. "I think it's just another piece of evidence that proves someone had been very angry with her."

"Did the academy teach you to smile so morbidly?" George questioned.

"No, that's just her face." Lockwood said gravely.

George spared you a look that resembled concern. "Pity."

You dropped your smile and walked passed a chuckling Lockwood.

—

Lucy couldn't hear a thing while there was light out. Even with the chain net off, all she could hear was George's heavy breathing.

Lockwood had everyone sat in the disparaging kitchen to have tea and some biscuits before night fell. All the courtresy of Lockwood & Co., of course. Papers spread across the table, rehashing the details in hopes that it would help Lucy discern which questions to prioritize once she made contact with Griffith.

George squinted his eyes at the court transcripts. "There's an awful lot of witnesses."

"It was a big case. Griffith did wonders to connect the world of science and the psychic." You dipped a biscuit into your overly sweetened tea; it was not so coincidentally your favorite brand, and took a bite. "She inspired me to study. It's been a dream of mine to solve her case."

George nodded with the most plastic smile on his face. "Wonderful. We're fulfilling childhood wishes while Lucy experiences rediscovered trauma."

You sighed and sunk into the rotting seat. There was no salvaging an acquaintanceship with George at this rate. You lulled your head to look at Lockwood. He spared you a smile but looked away just as quick.

"Don't interrupt me, that's all I ask," Lucy said as the clock struck six.

Papers were put away, circles were drawn, several more candles were lit, and Lucy hunkered down in the lavatory. The door was closed to give her room to work, leaving you to stand between Lockwood and George. You hobbled from heel to heel as you eyed their rapiers and their weary wandering.

The silence reminded you too much of home. Words poured out of you to chase away your parents's images in your mind. "How strong are Ms. Carlyle's talents? I've only heard heresay about her abilities."

"None of your business—"

"She's the best Listener in the field," Lockwood answered. Even in the dim light, you could see his smile pull higher. It made your heart do funny things while your stomach dropped. "I ought to think she'd be on parr with Marissa Fittes, given enough time. Maybe even better."

George nodded in agreement, turning his head as the ghost-lamps outside flickered to life. The green hue bled into the room, dimming the atmosphere even more.

You leaned against the wall as a chill crept out from under the lavatory door. "I have no doubt that we'll be able to get our answer then."

"Oh! Ow!" George exclaimed.

You didn't have a rapier or any form of weapon but you turned to him like you could help, just to find he was simply hugging himself.

"Got really cold all of a sudden. Felt like something passed through me," he said. He looked down at his thermometer. "Temp's dropped significantly. This visitor is a force."

"That's why she got the best of the best to do it," Lockwood boasted, winking your way and changing his stance as a spectral glow began to flicker under the door.

"Do we have a guess on what we could be facing?" you asked, backing away.

Lockwood didn't miss the tremoring in your hands. "No, but where where is a lack of knowledge, there is faith. We'll make it out this alive."

"Oh," you laughed unhumorously. "how reassuring."

"He's good at that," George added flatly.

Lockwood held out an arm, guiding you to stand between him and George. Their backs turned to you, their rapiers raised and at the ready.

"Here," Lockwood didn't look away from the dark as he unclasped a salt-bomb and a flask of lavender water. He held them out and you took them with shaking hands.

Malaise stalked in on you three, making the hairs on your arm stand. You gripped the salt-bomb and lavender water for dear life. Pressure squeezed down on your chest and your heart raced for a danger unseen.

"This much activity before ten? Griffith must have had qualms about dying." George said.

Lockwood chuckled, nodding along. "Wonder how nobody reported this much activity if the source was hidden all this time."

"Nobody wanted to visit this place when the killer was still at large," you answered, struggling to keep your tone even. "Some kids started some rumors during the court proceedings. They said someone just wanted the house badly enough to kill for it."

"That would be unfortunate," George said. "Imagine all that commotion over a killer who simply wanted real estate."

You tried to stiffle a laugh but failed. "It does sound ridiculous."

Lockwood chanced a glance at you, catching your faulty smile before a scream shook the Earth.

"Lucy?"

"Lucy!"

"Ms. Carlyle?"

She came bursting out of the lavatory, two fingers pinching the mummified hand, and looking quite disgruntled before she stood in the boy's protective circle.

"We might need Little Miss Doctor to stand in the iron circle," Lucy said, fumbling for her rapier and holding the source a ways from her body. Frost was gripping at her gloves.

The plan was scraped with one glance to the circle. It had been thrashed by Griffith from the time Lucy came tumbling out of the lavatory.

"Type two," all three of them agreed.

"What happened?" asked George. His eyes darted down the hallway with more apprehension than before.

"She got angrier and angrier the more names I mentioned," she answered. "I felt like she was about to drown me."

You took the mummified hand from her grasp. The sigh she let out was laughable. "Did she say who killed her?"

Lucy shook her head as she readied herself. Miasma was building. Fear gripped you like nothing you'd experienced before. When you touched the hand, that feeling multiplied. You heard murmurs but nothing substantial.

Shell...

Kill me...

Secret...

You couldn't stitch those words together to come to any conclusion. You were crossing your fingers that Lucy could. The possibilities kept you up at night. If you weren't thinking about your estranged friendship with Lockwood, you were thinking of getting justice for this woman you didn't even know. The cold pinching your skin from the source was a reminder that it wasn't over.

Like a light in the dark, Lucy looked at you and said, "She kept nodding her head whenever I asked if some person killed her; She said yes to Rodney. She said yes to Gasley—"

"So even she doesn't know who killed her?" George laughed emptily. "Brilliant."

"We might have to investigate more on our own to find more details." Lockwood nudged your side. You thought it was to shield you from the cold but that would be too presumptuous. He had bumped into you to swipe away the apparition of Iris Griffith.

She came and went like a zap of electricity. Frantic and unpredictable. Every time you caught sight of her mauled face, your heart picked up. How these three hadn't double over from heart failure was a mystery. Your knees gave up when she'd appeared beside you.

Your eyes watched her in slow motion. The rippling gashes in her plasma, her sneering face, her slashed dress... She was a hairsbreadth away from you before your instincts kicked in.

Your blood fell to your feet but your hand reached into your pocket in a panic, saving yourself as you pulled out a silver button. You threw it at her face and, fortunately, it was enough to disperse her ghost.

Lockwood let out a loud breath of relief but jumped back into the rhythm when her apparition reappeared. "Was that my mother's button? Nevermind. Time to make our exit! Luce, where's the chain net?"

She clicked her tongue. "Dropped it. Her manifestation appeared right in front of me."

"Go get it then!" George rushed, swiping at the air and setting off the first salt-bomb of the night.

"I would if I could," Lucy replied with a bite in her tone. She grimaced at the hand in your vice. "It's in the toilet."

"Pick it up! You've held worse." George backed into Lucy. They switched places.

"It's best if you don't," you advised. "This place has been deserted for years. Who knows what kind of bacteria's been growing in the bowl."

"Oh, you have to know everything, don't you?" George hissed.

Lucy didn't snap at you this time. "Listen to the doctor, George! Did we bring any more chain nets?"

Lockwood reached for your shirt, tugging you towards him as Griffith bit the air where your head would have been. He held you between his arms as blood rushed to your ears and cheeks. Lockwood's breath tickled your ear. The warmth of your face was a juxtaposition to the cold encasing your hands. "My bag! It's a bit away. We'll have to split up."

"Try not to die," George said with false sweetness. He and Lucy ran the opposite way you and Lockwood had.

Griffith chased them. The farther she got, the more you remembered how to breath.

"Calm down, cherry cheeks, ghosts can feed off of your fear," he tried to pacify you. The rasp of his voice evened your heart rate enough for you to get your brain turning again.

"Right. You're right..." You looked ahead, through the darkness and could barely make out the lumps on the ground. "Chain, we have to get the chain net."

"I've got you," he assured.

Even if your pivotal functions had returned to normal, your legs hadn't gotten the memo. Getting up made your knees buckle and legs feel like cooked pasta. As if the cold eating your fingers weren't bad enough.

Lockwood caught you around the waist, holding your weight while he held his rapier at the ready. "Hold on to the source and remember the salt-bomb."

You nodded firmly, clutching both to your chest as you two made a joint effort to get to the bags.

You were almost there, just passed the iron circle that Griffith had broken through, when she appeared above you like an unwanted mistletoe.

You screamed, Lockwood said something to console you, you threw the salt-bomb without taking off the clip, and Lockwood quickly sliced off the top to set it off. Salt sprayed over you two. His body folded over yours as it showered down.

Griffith's yells faded for a moment, a moment long enough for you to slide forward and grab the chain net that clung onto the side pocket of Lockwood's kit. Your hand wrapped around it, Iris's spectral glow kissed your skin, you felt the chill of it — she was colder than her source.

Suddenly, Lockwood had tugged you back towards him. His pull was strong enough to knock you onto your side. It would bruise but at least you weren't ghost-touched.

You wrapped the mummified hand in the net and sighed as the glow faded away and the screaming ceased. The frostbite on your fingers were worth the pain. You were alive.

Silence and heavy breathing ensued.

You rolled the rest of the way on your back, heaving for breath you won't get back. Not while Lockwood remained hovering over you.

The candles had been blown out in the earlier attack. The only light came from the ghost-lamps that sifted through the broken windows. Everything was in that ugly shade of bottle green... but that didn't make him any less magnificent.

Sweat collected on his brow, his mouth was agape—chasing for breath, and his lips were curled in that kind of smirk you could only dream about. Holding your breath did little for your racing heart.

"You okay, cherry cheeks?" His lips moved like their one purpose was to enrapture you.

You nodded dumbly, unable to find your words.

—

Portland Row was cloaked by the night when you four made your escape.

The three of them headed for the 35th while you bound up the steps to your parents' place. George and Lucy gained enough respect for you to wish you a good night before heading in, successfully tuckered out. Lockwood remained, staring at you with his hands in his trouser pockets.

He raised his brows at you then motioned to your front door. "Head on in. It would weigh on my conscience if I don't see you home safe. Your parents would have my head."

"You..." you paused at the fog before you. It was colder out than you thought. "You called me cherry cheeks earlier."

His stance turned tense. He rocked on his heels before he mustered a smile. "Old habits die hard... Sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"It's okay," you reassured, returning the smile. "I missed it."

"You don't mind then?"

You shook your head. "Never did."

His smile broadened, teasing a glimpse of his pearly whites before he looked at his shoes to hide it. "See you tomorrow then, cherry."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at him. These days, both of you were tall enough to see each other clearly over the wrought-iron fencing. You missed the days you had to tiptoe to show him a smile.

You had no problems shooting him a smile from over the fence. You had no problems coming home to your perfectionist parents. You had no problems imagining your world without Lockwood in it... but you missed him.

Now that the events kept replaying in your head, all you could think while you looked at him was I miss you, I'm sorry. I miss you, I'm sorry. I miss you, I'm sorry.

Lockwood had the talent of knowing when you wanted to say something but couldn't bring yourself to. He forgot how when you had grown apart. Now, in the quiet of the night and the privacy of the stars, it came back to him like the memories he tamped down by closing his window.

"What's wrong?" He asked, setting his hands on the freezing iron fence.

You feel the knot in your throat and the tears in your eyes. It hurts to hold back. Your lungs are lined with spikes as you take a breath. It feels like you're cracking your ribs open as you cave and admit to him, "I don't want to go home to them."

It may have been a trick of the light, but you swear there were tears in his eyes, too. His smile had changed. It was the same one you were accustomed to—the one he used to welcome you into his parents's house all those years ago. Like no time had passed at all, he beckons you. "Come on in then. 35 Portland Row is always open for you. It's your home, too."

—

One night's sleep on 35 Portland Row's most uncomfortable couch was worlds better than the comfy bed in your own cold home. You stretch like a cat to work out all the kinks in your joints, smiling at the air for no reason other than the happiness that filled you the moment you realized you were at the Lockwoods'. Your frosted hands had been wrapped up over a very sleepy catch-up the night before.

Ambient music was playing in your head as you took in your surroundings. The browned books and the disarray of trinkets left all around you were more home than anything you were used to.

It felt like you were wading through the most pleasant dream.

It all screeched to a halt the moment you swung your foot down and stepped on something squishy and loud—it groaned like a beast.

Terror clawed out of your throat in the form of a scream. Juttery legs hopped onto the back of the couch to gain height, and weary eyes looked down at the monster under the bed— er, sofa.

The lump inflated, made of patchwork quilt... until that fell away to reveal a very disheveled and very grumpy Anthony Lockwood.

"Ow," he simply said.

Your soul returned to your body. You offered a little laugh as you eased back down on the couch. "Sorry, Anthony."

"Don't worry yourself," he assured, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I was the one who snuck down here."

You were a kid when you admitted to being afraid of being alone. It was thoughtful of him to come down here to keep you company when he had a perfectly good bed upstairs.

With a fluttering belly and a sheepish smile, you reached out and patted his sleepy head. "You've always been good to me. I should be more grateful."

He opened one eye to look at you while he rubbed the sleep out of the other. A corner of his lip tipped up into a lazy smile. "You can start with a 'thank you', darling."

"Thank you," you said all too quickly. The deeper octave and the rasp in his voice had finally hit home. It made your cheeks warm.

Judging by the growing smile on his face, he had accomplished what he was intending to.

Your shoulders jumped. A knock broke through the calmness of the air. You turned and saw George in an apron and kitchen mitts. "Are you two going to give each other goo-goo eyes all morning or are you joining us for breakfast?"

—

The investigation resumed as soon as the breakfast plates had been cleaned.

You split into two groups. George and Lucy were off to the archives to work out all of Griffith's social connections, and you and Lockwood were off to the hospital to look for documents that contained the same M.O. or similar timeline to Griffith's case.

"I thought police were the only ones allowed to hold information like this," Lockwood admitted as you two shuffled through files upon files in the hospital archives.

"Most of it, they do. I just hope there's something here relevant to our case," you reply. "If we have to hand this off to detectives, DEPRAC will get involved. They'll just close the case and leave it be."

He nudges up to you after a good three hours of finding absolutely nothing. "Let's look at the last few cases she solved. Could have a clue."

"All of those are solved though," you respond. You were biting your nails at this point. You had to find something before questioning Griffith's ghost again—for Lucy's sanity and for the group's safety.

Lockwood took you by the shoulders just as you began to imagine the worst. "Cherry," he said to snap your attention to him. "If we can't find anything, I don't want you joining us on this one."

"What?" You back away from him in your incredulity. "I helped last night, didn't I? This is my investigation as much as it is yours, Anthony."

"This visitor is a type two, cher. It's not as simple as solving a case. This means lives are in the balance—"

"I'm aware." You put your foot down. You slapped his hands away and shimmy a thick stack from under the desk. "I'm aware of the risks and I consent to them." You pick up the one at the top of the stack and shove it into his chest. He had always liked the curiosity in your eyes, so he was taken aback by the void in them as you looked at him. "I have enough people treating me like I belong at home or behind the safety of iron fences—I do not need you to coddle me like that. My parents do it enough."

He watched your back as you look through the second file in the stack. "You know I don't mean to coddle you..."

"You're doing it right now." Your tone carries a point. "You're telling me to sit this one out because it's too dangerous."

"It's risk assessment—"

"You're underestimating me—"

He slams his hand down on the paper you're idly reading. Bringing your attention to him. "I do this because I don't want to lose you."

Your anger falls away.

The reminder of how how much he'd lost occurs to you. It makes your arms grow limp and your heart to shrink. You can only stare at him with those same eyes he can't unsee even when his are closed. He hates the way he's made sadness swim in them. "Anthony..."

He said your name with the same caution. "You want to know why I became distant?"

"People grow apart when they grow up, Anthony. It's not your fault—"

He knelt beside you, laying his heart out right then and there. "I couldn't stand watching you with your perfect family. They always said any field tampering with the supernatural was a death sentence. I hated how they were right. I hated how they made you so small. I couldn't watch you like that. I hated that you turned into a doctor, just like them. I hated how they were so bad and so cruel, but they were always right."

You were quelled into silence. Biting your lip to keep the tears in. He held your hands delicately, careful of your injury. His touch was light but you knew you would feel it for hours. You held his hands with as much strength as you could muster, even as your skin burned and screeched for reprieve, you did not let go. "They are wrong about you..." you whisper to him.

He went on, plastering on a smile you knew was fake. It sheared your heart to know that. "I knew they were right when they said you would do great things... But they said so many other things that hurt. I couldn't stand being around. It just made me remember that no one was around to defend me anymore. I'm sorry that I had to leave you out, too. Seeing you reminded me of everything they said and I... I couldn't shake it."

Your eyes hurt so much. You gave up somewhere along the way and let the tears fall. "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to fight them. I wanted to say so many things but they've always been so- so..."

"Scary?" he supplied with a pathetic laugh. "I know. Don't blame yourself."

You bobbed your head, sniffing as tears went. "You don't have to apologize for all that, Anthony. I'm so sorry, I didn't stand by you when you needed me. But I am going to see this case through to the end, I've dedicated my life to it."

Even when you were hiccuping and heaving for air, you wiped away the tear that tracked down his cheek. His heart surrendered to you then.

"Okay... And I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ignored you like I did," he said again, just because he felt like you needed to hear it.

"No. I'm sorry," you reply. Vehemently wiping his eyes. "Anthony, come on. Don't cry. I'm not worth crying for."

"Oh, don't say that," he said lightly. "You're worth everything, cher."

Both of you manage a smile but neither of you are well enough to hold it. You laugh at each other's attempts.

You came clean to him too: How your parents had made you the sun of their solar system; How they poured their knowledge into you like you were a cup meant to hold their images in vivid color; How they moulded you into being the projection of a golden girl—their magnum opus. You carried the weight of their world. Most days, they acted more like teachers than parents. It got worse the older you got. Trophies and medals took the places of photographs until all you became was your achievements.

"They were so hard on you..." he said slowly. It was just sinking I just how trapped you were. You were cornered in a place that was supposed to covet you.

"Still, I should have defended you. I hate that I didn't," you said, wiping your nose with the back of your sleeve. It was the most ungraceful thing he'd seen you do but it brought him back to the cherry pie incident, and he found that he couldn't even think of you in a bad light.

"It's water under the bridge. I hate your parents, but there is one thing we can agree on," Lockwood said, cracking a semblance of a smile.

You cocked your brow at him. Teary eyes and all, he still found you as cute as a button.

"I would make you the sun of my solar system, too. They got that right."

With a snort, you said, "You're good at buttering people up, you know that?" You shoved his shoulder to shut him up but he caught the red on your ears and the smile you hid with a tilt of your head.

—

When you rendezvoused with George and Lucy, it was around 5:40 in the afternoon. The sun was dipping and the ghoulish were about to walk the earth. If George or Lucy noticed the redness in your eyes, they said nothing of it. You hurried along inside the stranded house and relayed newfound information.

"The last case Griffith reviewed involved a woman named Shelly Carson. She immigrated from America and died at 17 while she was interning for Hayes Inc." You flipped the file open on the kitchen table over tea. "They profiled the case to be a suicide but I don't think Griffith agreed." Your finger pointed to the lower left corner where Griffith would put her stamp of approval. The line was void of it. "She wrote 'Garrote not rope??' on the unofficial report. Carson's case could have been a murder."

The information set off a spark in George. He was rubbing invisible dirt from his glasses and finished doing so as you concluded your assessment. "We found a Shelly Carson in our search too," he said. Everyone lent their ears. "She was friends with Griffith in childhood. Alongside Rodney and Gasley. The four of them were close friends from well-off families."

"Ah, they're rich. Explains a lot," Lucy snorted. George ignored her quip.

"Turns out Rodney and Carson were both interested in Gasley. Rodney moved on with some bloke named Jerome Holt, but she suspected him of having an affair with Carson. Holt proposed to prove her wrong."

Lockwood tilted his head. "Sounds like gossip, Georgie."

George brandished an old leather diary. "We tracked down Howard Gasley. He gave us this."

Lockwood lit up. Sitting up with renewed energy. "How did you manage that?"

Lucy grinned. "The death of his girlfriend weighed on his conscience. All I had to do was tell him that her ghost can't be put to rest. Spilled like a waterfall after that."

"So, he did kill her?" You asked.

"Well, that's the difficult bit... The rest of the pages were ripped out and he didn't explicitly say he did. Maybe he did do it, he likes ripping things." George revealed, pointing the diary at the mummified hand in the net. "I think he's involved, one way or another."

Lockwood looked at it, then looked at Lucy. "What do you think, Luce?"

She looked at all three of you with a gleam in her eye. "I think we're about to find our killer."

—

The set-up was same as last night, except the iron circle had been extra fortified to fit all four of you in case things get out of hand. Lockwood stuffed lavenders into your pockets as Lucy lit the the candles.

"If you die tonight, I will not forgive you," Lockwood said as he put a salt-bomb in your hand.

"Same goes for you," you retort with a smile.

He returns your grin, tapping your sides and making your heart flutter before he sets off to help George with inventory.

You cross the chains to help Lucy in the lucky room chosen to host the seance in. With all the furniture pushed to the walls, the sitting room was the epitome of morbid. The carpet was patterned in a way that made it perfect for summoning and the cobwebs embellishing the place contributed to the unsettling ambiance. Lucy herself was lighting candles around the source. You took a pack of matches and helped light the rest of them.

"How are you feeling?" you asked as you lit the last candle and killed the match.

"Confident," she replied. She even spared you a smile. "And you?"

"Scared. Excited, mostly."

She bobs her head. She had a far-away look in her eye before she asked, "Your room is an attic room, correct?"

The nature of the question surprised you. "Yes. Why?"

A smile teased her lips. "I knew it." She looked at you like she saw right through you. "Lockwood was loitering near the window this morning. Just thought it was odd."

You hear him in your mind then — cherry cheeks. Warmth crawled up your neck as Lockwood and George entered the room.

"What are you two blabbering about?" George questioned, off-put by Lucy's smile and your flushed face.

"Nothing," you said together, one more pitched than the other.

George didn't look convinced.

Lockwood spoke up. " You ladies ready? Let's catch ourselves a killer."

The door was left open with an heavy stopper, giving you ample room to run to the iron circle in case things took a turn for the worst. Though, you doubted it would. The other three shared the sentiment. Some kind of energy buzzed between you four and livened the room, something that wasn't there the night before.

Lucy looked between you and Lockwood with a knowing expression you only ever saw from Jessica Lockwood. It was gone as quick as it came but the brief blast from the past made you dizzy. The resemblance must have been what made Lockwood so comfortable with her.

Lockwood had crossed the room and stood by you. Close enough to catch you if you stumbled forward in your daze.

He glanced at his wrist to check the time. "7:30's a good time. Ready, Lucy?"

"Ready," she confirmed. With a tug, the iron net came off of Griffith's mummified hand.

George and Lockwood reconsidered their stances with their rapiers as warmth was immediately sapped from the room. It was akin to jumping into a lake without testing the waters. Blood rushed to your ears. The whispering began again.

"We're here to help you," Lucy said calmly.

Wind began to pick up despite the windows being closed. Lucy persevered. "Iris Griffith, I know that you're experiencing a great injustice. Let me help you. Talk to me."

Lucy closed her eyes. You trust that she was establishing a connection with Griffith. The chill subsided by a fraction, her eyes were moving rapidly like you do when you're in the middle of a dream.

"There's a spectral glow behind you, George." Lockwood caught that faster than you. He was glaring down at the opposite corner of the room.

George's face remained impassive. "You'll tell me if she gets too close."

"Shush!" Lucy threw a hand up in the air. "Shell... Shelly? Yes, what about Shelly Carson? She died before you. You saw her case. They got the autopsy wrong, didn't they?"

A faraway scream interrupted the silence. You fumbled forward. Lockwood caught your arm. "Careful there, cherry cheeks." You lived up to your nickname.

"They all kept... Secret...?" Lucy murmured. "They all killed you to keep a secret?"

If this were a cartoon, you imagine everyone to have exclamation marks above their heads. Finally, some of the mystery began to come into focus. Who are 'they' and what secret were they so desperate to keep?

"Secret... Shelly Carson?" Lucy's expression lightened and the room grew slightly warmer. "Yes! Their secret is Shelly Carson. No? Oh, then what— They killed her to keep the secret... then paid people to say they were innocent."

"Rich people," George tutted.

The anticipation was killing you. All those nights of research, pouring over case files and autopsies were boiling down to this. You gripped Lockwood's sleeve to ground yourself. He glanced at your hand, worried you were seeing something he wasn't, but felt a smile twitching on his lips when he noticed the elation on yours.

Lucy'a voice pierced the air. "They killed her to keep what secret?"

The silence, the anticipation, and the chill in the room melded.

"Rodney pregnant? With Gasley's—" Lucy shut herself up. It was like a bad episode of a telenovela, but this was real, and someone had died because of it. "And when you were about to uncover the truth about Shelly... Rodney and Gasley they got you, too? I'm sorry to hear that. Gasley must have regrets. He had left a diary and... your, ah, hand so we could uncover your story."

It wasn't the most peaceful way to end a talk with a ghost. As soon as Lucy finished the conversation, the apparition of Iris Griffith had appeared once more. Contrary to your hypothesis, finding out the motive and her killers did not put her to rest at all.

She wailed louder than the previous night and zipped about even faster than before. Nothing Lockwood & Co. couldn't handle though. You showered the room with lavender and salt as Lockwood & Co. danced with a ghost.

—

You all appreciated a bit of silence after getting your ears blown off by a visitor. The world clearly didn't like you enough to grant the request, judging by the hunched and fuming figures of your parents blocking the door to 35 Portland Row. They sported crossed arms and crossed expressions. Your mother, specifically, was blowing steam from her ears.

Seeing your sweaty and worn form only confirmed their suspicions: You'd been running around with ghost hunters.

"You ungrateful brat..." your mother muttered.

Lucy stepped forward, blocking her way to you. She was hardened by her own experiences and least expected the horrid woman to turn on her own daughter for simply doing something outside of white-tiled establishments. You were grateful for it.

That only stirred the pot for your parents.

"We sheltered you, spoiled you, and educated you to be the lady you are today. You are our legacy." Your father harumphs forward. "We made you what you are and you would throw that all away by risking your stupid little life for some miniscule ghost adventure!"

George is the next to block their way. He wasn't that protective type, but he did look the part when he wanted to. "It was her childhood dream. Let her live." Leave it to George to be forward.

Your mother stamped her feet. The display was so awfully childish you had to look away. "You are children who don't know a single thing about building a foundation for a good life! You are going to run my daughter to ruin!"

Because of her display, Lockwood & Co. weren't so intimidated by her anymore.

Lockwood had stepped ahead, completing the wall that prevented your iron-fisted parents from getting to you ever again. "We're the best psychical agents in London. We expect a little more respect, doctor."

You could hear the smile in his voice. You couldn't help but smile, too.

With a last burst of anger, your father yelled to you. "You either come home or you find your own way. I'd rather live without a daughter than live with a disappointing one."

It shouldn't hurt as much as it did, but you had given your whole life to live up to the version of you they were dreaming of. Even if you had achieved all that, all it took was having a moment of autonomy for them to turn against you and disregard your sacrifices.

Lockwood had turned to you with a face so full of hope, it brought you back to the other night at the horrid dinner party and the night you snuck out to pick apples. After all that's happened, you found it in yourself to steel your resolve and face your father with bravery that felt unnatural but oh-so addicting.

"I'm going home," you told them.

You walked passed a stunned George and a speechless Lucy. Lockwood was far bluer than the two, but you shot him a smile that put all his worries to rest.

When you were kids, he was the one to take you by the hand and drag you off on a new adventure. This time, it was you so took his hand and pulled him passed your parents's skyscraping figures and into the comforts of 35 Portland Row.

Home, at last.

The first thing you saw as you pulled Lockwood through the threshold was his smile, radiant as ever. He didn't give you much time to admire it. He swooped down and stole your first kiss before you could even blink.

You could hear Lucy and George laugh over your parents plights. You were tired, sweaty, and covered in salt but all you could think of was; you should have done this sooner.

The next morning, you submitted the evidence and psychical report to the relevant authorities, convicting Celia Rodney and Howard Gasley for their crimes. Griffith's source was relinquished from your possession and burned at the Fittes Furnaces, marking the end of Griffith's case. It was the best thing you could do to bring her peace.

Shortly after, Lockwood and Co. welcomed you as the company's official forensic consultant, and in 35 Portland Row, you were finally comfortable in your own skin.

You and Lockwood now stand on the same side of the fence. There is no need shyly avoid your peering eyes when he could have the satisfaction of seeing them flutter close as he kisses you.

Thought, it is nice to remember that all this started with those peering eyes over wrought-iron fences. You and Lockwood reminisce those days over a cherry pie with extra ice cream or an afternoon picking apples from the backyard.

Every now and again, Lockwood would toss an apple over to your parents's side of the fence to scare them.

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

LOVELOCKED (PEOWIF BONUS CHAPTER)

NOTE ➺ Thank you to everyone who made it through to the end! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it. It's the first time I completed a project this big so I hope it brings you some joy. To everyone mourning the seasons we'll never get, I'm with you. To my fellow writers, I'd appreciate a tip or two to improve my stories. To everyone in general, may you continue finding fics that comfort you 💙

#— ❨ 🌺 ❩ 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐀 ₊˚.༄#anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #anthony lockwood angst

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collegeishardbutwritingisharder · 2 years

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Yandere Azul Ashengrotto x Little Brother Reader headcanons/short story (?)

Here is the third one of these for everyone's favorite octopus! This is probably the first one where you'll actually be a child! Congrats!

Trigger warning: It's yandere. It is its own warning.

Azul Ashengrotto

You and Azul are step brothers.

He was ten years old to your three years old when you and your father came along to the family.

He didn't really appreciate you being around. You were a babbling, drooling mess. But the feeling that he felt most about you was jealousy. Jealousy over your tail fin and the fact you weren't as chubby as he was at three years old.

Your father bonded pretty well with Azul over the fact that they were both quite interested in business but every time that you tried to play with Azul, he would just swim away and ignore you.

"Azul! Do you want to play with me?"

I swam up to Azul while we were swimming back home. I've always looked up to Azul and tried to be the best little brother that I could for him. But he never seemed to want to be near me.

"No."

"Oh. W-well, how about later we go visit the museum? I know that you enjoy seeing what they have there."

"No."

"Oh, well, what if we-"

"Listen, (Y/N). I'm too busy to hang out with you. Just go and bother someone else."

Azul's tone was colder than the water that surrounded us and harsher than the tide that brought down mighty ships. I stopped swimming while trying to get my tears under control. I've always wanted an older brother and I finally got one but he wants nothing to do with me.

You stayed out of the house longer. Plenty of your friends from school saw you swimming around and tried to get you to play with them but you refused. You wanted to try and become better for Azul.

Eventually, it got really dark outside and you decided that it would be best to go back home. Ever since you started living as a family, your dad and stepmom paid more attention to Azul and with good reason. Azul was better than you in every single way.

You swam through the front door to see your family playing board games in the living room before swimming into your own room. You had homework to get done anyway.

This repeated for many years. You would create amazing connections with the people at school before spending the rest of the daylight outside, reflecting on yourself and then coming back home late at night to do your homework.

School life wasn't hard at all for you. Many people at school were jealous of you. You knew everything about everyone, everyone looked up to you because of your charisma, your looks and the fact that your grades were perfect. Where everyone saw perfection, you only saw the useless brother that wasn't good enough for your family.

During your reflection time, you were able to hone the magic that you hid away from everyone. Your unique magic was the only thing that you weren't disappointed about.

"Cthulhu's Call" was a summoning spell. You could summon one of the world's most feared eldritch creatures at will and have it listen to your every call. You only used it once and that was risky in and of itself. Cthulhu wasn't small.

The rest of your magic was useful to protect your brother from his more sneaky bullies. The ones that the tweels didn't sense. The ability to control water and its tides was quite fun in swirling around the idiot mermaids.

"I'm home."

You said, knowing that nobody was actually wondering where you were or when you came back. Your father was animatedly talking about his work with Azul at the dining table while your stepmother was still out at her job.

Hearing your stomach growl, you decided that you could make some food for yourself before you got to work on your homework. You quickly found the ingredients for your favorite meal and got to work at cooking. You were so distracted with your food that you didn't hear Azul getting close to you.

"(Y/N)."

"Huh? Oh! Hiya, Azul!"

I quickly put up my friendly side. Nobody needed to know what accidently happened while I was out today.

"Where did you get that scrape on your arm?"

Crud. Azul noticed. How?! It wasn't like I was showing it off to the world. Just come up with a lie and you'll be good.

"Oh that! Well, I wasn't being careful at gym class today and some equipment accidently cut me. It was pretty bad but thankfully, plenty of students were willing to help me to the nurses' office."

That was such a lie. I got it when I was exploring a sunken ship that was about... 20 nautical miles away from the house. I wasn't actually allowed to go that far alone but I heard that the treasure hidden in it was worth more than anything. And oh boy, were they not lying! Gems, gold and plenty of other things were there! I didn't take anything but pictures.

"Hmmm. You know, your story doesn't line up with the story that Floyd told me earlier."

"Oh really? What did Floyd tell you?"

Why was Floyd Leech following me? I would have known if I crossed a tweel at some point in time. Floyd isn't quiet about that type of stuff.

"He talked about watching a mermaid that looked like you swim to a sunken ship that was about twenty nautical miles away from our house. But I know for a fact that that couldn't have been you right?"

I did not enjoy the look in Azul's eyes. He was trying to get me to crack like an egg. I've cracked before to try and get Azul to like me better but I've always gotten told on instead. That was the only time that I was given any attention from Mom or Dad. When I was being scolded.

"Nah! Of course not! Also I wouldn't always believe what Floyd talks about. He likes to drag reactions out of you."

"Hmm, you have a point. Okay, I just wanted to check."

Azul then left the kitchen but the look in his eyes told me that he wasn't going to drop what we were talking about. I guess that I have to stop my treasure hunts until Azul's suspicion clears up.

Thus brought an end to your treasure hunts.

Ever since Azul had brought up Floyd following you, you've noticed at least one of the Leech twins in the background watching you carefully. You figured that Azul must have them playing watchdog.

This continued on until you were nine. Azul and the tweels had to go to NRC and you couldn't have felt more relieved. The admiration that you once held for Azul had turned into paranoia and distrust since you heard about his unique magic and what he uses it for.

Your treasure hunts were back on and your magic was only growing stronger by the day. Also with the fun fact that you were quite interested in architecture and made sea castles that sea creatures could actually swim and live in.

You hadn't seen Azul for months until your parents decided that you were going to visit Azul up at NRC.

"But Moooooom, I still have school to go to."

"Nonsense, (Y/N). You won't be gone for long and besides, don't you want to see your older brother?"

I bit my lip, not wanting the truth to flow out. I still didn't trust Azul and I wasn't looking forward to seeing him once again. Stepmom grabbed my hands before swimming towards Father. He had three potions in hand, which were supposed to turn us into humans. This didn't sound like a blast at all.

Being on land was a nightmare. My parents apparently had become humans before in their life times so they knew how to use their legs but I had no idea on how to use these things. It was quite painful to walk and be held up by my arms. I've never wanted my tail back more than then. Eventually, we made it to NRC with me wobbling with every step.

"Mom! Dad!"

I turned my head to see Azul walking towards us and giving our parents a huge hug. He then turned his head towards me and gave me a huge smile. A shiver ran down my spine at that sight. Azul was never happy to see me.

"(Y/N)! How's my biggest fan doing?"

Azul then walked over to me and picked me up into a hug. I just blinked at him before putting a huge smile on my face. I had to hide my surprise because despite my actual feelings for Azul, I still presented the little brother who idolized his bigger brother.

"I'm doing fine! It's weird that you're no longer at home though."

I thought that after I responded, Azul would put me down and ignore me like what would normally happen at home. But he didn't. Instead Azul only brought me closer to his chest and held me like I was a tiny baby. I tried to struggle out of his grasp but it only tightened, preventing all and any movement from me.

I sent a look to our parents but they seemed to not notice the death grip that Azul had on me. I guess that they weren't even really expecting I would ever be given any attention from Azul.

I sat in Azul's arms for about twenty or so minutes. The conversation seemed to get longer and longer and more and more boring. This was the time that I wished I had my tail to swim to the deep depths where I was no longer a part of any of this.

"So, I was thinking that (Y/N) could actually stay with me at NRC."

What. I quickly looked at Azul as if he was crazy but he wasn't even looking at me. That's one way from nearly going to sleep to wide awake.

"One of my classmates has his little brother with him. I already talked with the headmage and he agreed full heartedly!"

"Oh my! What a kind offer! It'll be weird having an empty nest though."

It wouldn't be that different considering you never chose to acknowledge me in the first place.

"Nonsense! This will be good for (Y/N) as well! Getting a higher education than everyone else his age!"

Gosh dang it, Azul. Why did you have to listen to Dad when he talked about his job?

So, now you are an honorary student of NRC.

You were attached to Azul at the hip. Sometimes quite literally. Your brother wouldn't let you walk a good amount of the time and even got a child carrier for you.

Floyd and Jade loved to tease you about the fact that you were no longer as independent as you used to be.

"Azul?"

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

No matter how many times I talk with Azul now, I don't think that I'll ever get used to the fact that he sounds loving towards me. I'm so used to the apathy.

"I'm grateful for everything that you've done for me but why exactly did you convince your headmage to let me stay?"

"Well, when I first got here, I thought that I was blessed. New experiences and the perfect place to start my own business and no little annoying brother trying to get my attention at every moment of the day. But after about... five months, I realized that I was missing my biggest supporter. You were always there and looked up to me. So, I decided that it would be better if I kept you closer to me."

"I..."

I was shocked. Azul... actually wanted to hang out with me? After being closed off for six years?! This has to be some sort of ploy.

"Ehhhhh~! It's Rainbow-Chan~! How's it being Mr. Popular?"

I felt Floyd wrap his arms around my torso and lightly picked me up for a spin. Rainbow-Chan is his nickname for me because and I quote "Everyone likes Rainbow Trouts!"

"Well, if it isn't Azul's younger brother? It's a pleasure to see you again."

Jade's smile sent shivers down my spine. Despite me being thankful for them becoming Azul's friends, I've never really wanted to be close with them. They're very scary.

"L-l-likewise."

I'm going to keep my manners with them. I'd rather not risk the bodily harm that could come if I don't.

"Ehhhh~ Rainbow-Chan, how many treasure hunts did you do when we all left the ocean~? I know that you have."

Floyd's sing-songy tone dropped and his arms tightened dangerously around my torso by the end of his sentence. My guess is that when I first said that Floyd was lying, he took it as an insult.

"I-I-I..."

"Well~?"

"I found two sunken ships down at the bottom of a ravine filled to the brim with gold and other human objects."

"See, Azul~! I told you that Rainbow-Chan explored too far away from his home~ You should do something about it~"

"And I shall."

After the truth of your little excursions, Azul started to... train you for lack of better words.

If you went too far from him, Azul would make you stay with Floyd for the entire next day. Trying to keep up with eccentric Floyd and his dangerous mood swings was enough to have you crawling back to Azul's bed for some well deserved cuddles.

If Azul felt that you weren't giving him the praises that he expected from you, Azul would throw a tantrum and start threatening to tell Mom and Dad lies about you. The last thing that you needed were messages coming from home about how you should have been more well behaved for Azul. You've just learned that you should give him compliments for everything or if he did do something wrong, give helpful criticism.

You also became sort of a logo for the Mostro Lounge. More customers would come just to see you, sitting at the entrance to greet those who came to dine.

Everyone appreciated the natural charisma that radiated off of you. Except that it would trigger Azul's jealousy very easily some days. Other days, he could ignore it because of the money that people would give you. Today was not one of those days.

"Azul! Please!"

I was begging my brother. He was feeling quite jealous over the fact that many people were fawning over me. I hated when he was in these moods because I would get stuck with the worst person.

"You cannot talk me out of this, (Y/N). You should have known better than to be that friendly with the customers. Jade will help you remember from now on."

Jade was the cruelest person that you know. He would treat everything like it was a science experiment and had little regard to your health.

He would force you to try out different mushrooms that he didn't know the reaction that someone would have to. There have been many days that you just wanted to rip out your guts or just become sea foam.

The pain that would be forced upon you was the reminder that you needed. That Azul was the only bit of kindness in your life.

"Awww, is someone in pain? Does someone need their big brother's healing hugs?"

After the nightmare that was hanging out with Jade, I could barely walk. The pain in my stomach was almost paralyzing but I fought through it to reach Azul who was sitting on his bed with arms wide open.

I crawled onto his lap and relaxed my upper body against his. I felt his arms wrap around my waist. Azul whispered something and I felt magic start coursing through my body, washing away the pain. I let out a sigh and closed my eyes.

"There we go. All nice and relaxed. See, I wish that I could always be this nice with you but you keep breaking my heart. Do you know how painful that is, (Y/N)?"

I only shook my head. He has asked me that question before and I nodded my head. I refuse to remember what happened the next day.

"Of course you don't. Thus I try to help you understand but I can only show you a fraction of my pain. But you do understand that I'm doing all of this for you, right?"

I nodded my head, too tired to try and fight Azul.

"I knew you would understand. I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Big Brother."

I felt a kiss be pressed to my cheek before I drifted into the world of sleep. I'll take any nightmares there instead of facing the one in the real world.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #child reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere x child reader #ooc #yandere azul ashengrotto

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eyesteeth · 4 months

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Details from The Mermaid's Tongue (Demo)

Spoilers for the entirety of the demo/the Mermaid's Tongue Prologue and Tangle Tower + theorizing on future plot points for the final game.

So, right off the bat:

Stonetop Inn: as in Selena Stonetop, mother of Felicia Fellow and grandmother of Freya Fellow, as indicated by the Tangle Tower family tree. The boat being named The Dearest Selena cinches it.

The dragon-looking thing on the board is the Silversnake noted in the Children's Book (and Secret Research) in Tangle Tower. It is also present at the bottom of the family tree image.

The crab design on the table could be the Soulcrab... Or just a regular crab, lol

Felicia... Stonetop? Not Fellow? Perhaps she took her father’s last name after some incident? Or perhaps her heritage as a Stonetop was ignored by the family in favor of her status as a Fellow? Or perhaps it’s a retcon? Who can say...

Kristen Kale publishing… wonder if that’ll be relevant down the line.

This book also gives us some potential foreshadowing and a route for misdirection... but it being entered into evidence suggests that at least the author or publisher will be of some relevance.

I didn't take screenshots of it, but there's also an alliterative name outside the theatre on land, a W name. It's not any of the extended Fellow-Remington-Pointer family, but alliterative names have a tendency to come back... so maybe they'll be relevant to the full game, or perhaps a future one?

Tangle Tower took some beats from The Goldbug by Poe, so is this perhaps a Great Gatsby-esque green light? More literary connections? Post-war cynicism and the death of the American dream? Opulence as a disguise for deeper issues? Could be fun.

The likelihood of this being a cheeky All The Wrong Questions reference is a Big Zero, but "Silkwirm-on-Sea" is giving me "Stain’d-by-the-Sea" vibes by both the name and it being utterly dead.

I’m going to assume this is a statue depicting one of the Ambassadors (my guess would be Lord Fellow) attempting to capture the Silversnake - or the Silkwirm Serpent, as it’s called here.

I'm convinced these creatures are one and the same despite the name difference. Boggy's real name is The Amphobi, after all. It could happen again.

Also look at the hanging sign in the top right. Hold that image in your mind for a second.

Hm. Now doesn't that furnace and that glass of wine feel a little familiar... not to mention the shade of red...

...who wants to bet an Ambassador had a hand in making this submarine?

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that’s the Seafoam crest hanging over the Stonetop crest. (That is the Stonetop crest at the bottom, by the way. If you click on the hanging sign over the inn before you get onto the submarine, it reveals this information.) Perhaps the complex web of interpersonal relationships didn’t end with the Pointer-Fellow-Remington family.

And so the guessing game begins… Is The Captain’s Corpse Slumped Over The Panel In That Room

Oh, hey! I recognize that lamp. Has Felix Fellow been down here on one of his many supposed adventures?

The Silversnake returns as a metal structure inside the ship! This is starting to remind me of the constant egg motifs around Tangle Tower... and strengthening my theory that one of the Ambassadors made this ship. This is quite a prominent bit of Mystid decor, and Sally even suggests that it might be load-bearing.

The bottle of tablets having a sun on them leads me to think they’re Vitamin D tablets or the like. Not getting enough sun can really mess the body up, and being deep underwater would leave someone with no access to it. Therefore, these are likely vitamin supplements. The other side of the label having an onion, however… no clue. A mystery for the full game!

Likewise, the moon vial could be a sleeping drought. It’s hard to keep up with your sleep cycle if it’s always dark, after all.

POSTER PLAGIARISM!! Though, it's not like you're going to get called out for it twenty leagues under the sea... My guess is whoever refurbished this room into a theatre really likes the shows topside. But a witch girl seeing the ferryman while in the cauldron herself carries a different tone than a mysterious doppelgänger.

Both the “The Stargazing Girl” text and the footprints have bled through slightly to the other side of the cloth, so they must have been applied similarly (to some degree) - but the circle seems like it was always there. This is definitely part of a larger puzzle, so there's not much to say now.

Claw marks inside the cauldron… like the claw marks in the Tangle Tower aquarium, perhaps? And the gear marking on top… perhaps that’s how it was unlocked?

I also must say - I disagree with Grimoire's belief that the cauldron entity did the murder. The scratches inside the cauldron, with a single exception, are in groups of three. Magnus was specifically killed with a single slash across the throat. The creature in question would have left at least two slashes.

And so, the final analysis of this post. Grimoire suggests a supernatural entity responsible for the murder. Magnus' feet were right up by the cauldron. He fell onto his back. He left a puddle of blood on the ground. There's even a suspiciously placed hole in the wall! This is so, so similar to Freya's death. And, were it done like hers, I'd say that a long blade, like a spear, was thrust through the hole and slashed Magnus in the throat, at which point he fell backwards.

Except, I don't think that's what happened. Look at the bloodstain. Look at how it's pooling towards the cauldron. I don't think the submarine was horizontal when this murder happened. I think there was an initial impact, the main circular stain, and then the ship moved 90 degrees, resulting in the "second circle" of the stain dripping the way it does.

But, this is just theorizing from the little bits we have so far. What's done here so far is phenomenal and I can't wait to see how it goes. Will we meet the mysterious bug-post-sender? Will Penelope return? Will there be two murders on this submarine?? We'll see in 2024!!

#detective grimoire #the mermaid's tongue #eyeteeth speaks #analysis #long post

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sephirothsplaything · 2 months

Text

DNA| Sec.80 high power-chapter 6.1

A/N: Me when this is the shortest chapter i've ever written. Yes this is filler but I promise some of the stuff in here will be important later on.

also, young rhaella flashback with her mommy TT

Kings Landing, Aemond’s 12th name day, Pre the death of Lady Laena Velyeron.

“ I wish to ride with father!” A young Baela exclaimed. The family was preparing to set off towards King’s landing for Aemond Targayen’s twelfth name day.

Laena smiled fondly at her daughter. She glanced at her youngest, Rhaella. With her large, violet eyes and her silver curls piled into an updo on her head, the girl was only one and ten years of age.

“Would you like to ride on Caraxes, Rhaella?” Laena asked. Rhaella shook her head furiously. Her father’s red dragon was much too fast for her liking. Instead, she turned towards her mother’s own dragon, Vhagar.

Baela pulled Rhaena by Caraxes, sticking her tongue out to Rhaella childishly.

“Rhaena and I shall have all the fun!” Baela said. Rhaella clutched the wrapped gift in her hand, intended for her cousin Aemond.

“Baela, be nice.” Laena reminded. Daemon looked on at his children in amusement. He couldn’t understand where Rhaella’s quiet nature came from.

Daemon helped his two twins onto Caraxes, before hiking himself to mount. Rhaella watched the dragon take off into the sky in envy.

One day, she’d hope. One day she too will be in the skies.

“Come, my love, let us be off,” Laena said. Rhaella’s tiny brown hand brushed against Vhagar’s hardened scales. The mighty she-dragon allowed it, even softly chuffing at the action.

Laena picked up her daughter, mounting Vhagar. The dragon was slow to leave the ground as Laena tightened her grip on the reigns.

“Vhagar, sōvēs.” She said. Rhaella held onto her mother’s waist as the weight shifted and the dragon took to the sky.

“Are you excited to see your cousins, Rhaella?” Laena asked. Rhaella hummed thoughtfully. Her older cousin, Helaena, was three and ten years old and was always nice to her. Rhaella had been eager to speak with her again. She hated Aegon, his sleazy gazes made her want to hide.

“I took one of Father’s books, for Aemond,” Rhaella said. Laena couldn’t fight the smile. Daemon would be deeply annoyed at the discovery.

“I’m sure Aemond will appreciate it, dear,” Laena said.

After a while, the pair flew over Kings Landing. Laena landed Vhagar a ways away from the city. Laena jumped down from her dragon, helping Rhaella off as well.

Rhaella adjusted the blush-colored fabrics of her dress. The matching headband was off-centered due to the wind. Chuckling, Laena adjusted it on Rhaella’s head.

“There, and how pretty you look!” Laena gushed. She glanced at the book in her daughter’s hands with a playful smile.

“I’m sure Aemond will agree as well,” Laena said. Rhaella looked away from her mother bashfully. She was always saying things like that. Rhaella supposed her mother liked to jest.

Mother and daughter walk to the gates of the Red Keep. In the outer courts, the festivities had long since begun.

Rhaella could see her two sisters already in conversation with their cousins, Jace and Luke.

“Laena, I see you’ve made it.” A voice rang. Princess Rhaenyra approached the two, smiling eagerly. Rhaella watched the two women embrace as she stood awkwardly to the side.

Pulling back from Laena, Rhaenyra smiled at the small girl by her side.

“ Aren’t you just a proper lady!” Rhaenyra said. Rhaella gave a shy smile to the princess.

Leaving the women to catch up, Rhaella walked over to the long table. Baela was engaged in a spirited conversation with Jace while Rhaena and Luke watched on.

“Where is Aemond?” Rhaella asked. She had noticed that the boy was nowhere to be seen, and on his name day no less.

“I don’t much care,” Baela said. Rhaella’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. She had thought her sister would have the courtesy of being a little softer on this day.

Rhaella abandoned the group, wandering far from the party. The bright sun was beaming down on her face, temporarily obscuring her vision.

Then, she saw him. Propped up in front of a Weirwood tree, there sat Aemond.

Rhaella sighed out, glad her walking efforts we not in vain. She took a seat in the grass opposite to him.

Aemond glanced up in surprise. Rhaella and her quiet footsteps had startled him.

“I suppose everyone is missing me if they sent you here,” Aemond said. Rhaella toyed with the book’s wrapped parchment.

“ In truth, no one much cares,” Rhaella said, rather bluntly. Despite her tone, her eyes met his, clear with mirth.

“I thought as much,” Aemond said, sullen look deepening. His attention was pulled to the present in the girls’ hands.

“What’s that?” Aemond asked. Rhaella passed the book to him.

“It’s for you,” Rhaella said. Aemond eagerly ripped apart the covering, revealing the book.

‘ Dragons and Histories’

“ Father will be cross with me for taking it, but we have plenty of others,” Rhaella said.

“Thank you, Rhaella,” Aemond said gratefully. Rhaella shrugged. She had read through the same book many times herself. She knew her cousin shared the same hunger to learn.

Scooting closer to him, Rhaella flipped to a page she knew well. Sketches of Balerion, the Black Dread filled the page. Among all the dragons, Rhaella favored him above all else.

“Father told me he was named after the Old Valyrian God of death,” Rhaella said. Aemond looked at her in awe. His cousin always seemed to know much and more than he ever could.

“I want a dragon like that,” Aemond said. He longed for something undeniable in power. Something that the realm would have no choice but to acknowledge.

“I think I would too.” Rhaella agreed. Aemond gave her a side glance.

“ Balerion was ridden by Aegon the Conqueror, he would be best suited for a man.”

Rhaella scoffed at the absurdity of the comment. “ Princess Aerea rode him, you should know that if the maesters have taught you anything at all.” She said.

Aemond fell silent at Rhaella’s scolding. Rhaella’s eyes soften. Perhaps she had been too harsh, it was his name day after all.

“One day, you and I will fly all over the realm together,” Rhaella said.

“I want to see the ruins of Old Valyria,” Aemond said. Rhaella pulled a face. Old Valyria was a dangerous place but she declined to add the fact in for Aemond’s sake.

“I’d much rather see Dorne,” Rhaella said. It was the only place their ancestors couldn’t overtake. Her curiosities regarding the place always bubbled over.

“Dorne, why?” Aemond asked. Rhaella closed the book, pushing it to the side.

“It’s warm and the women are fair,” Rhaella said. Aemond glanced at her in confusion.

“Perhaps I’d marry a Dornish prince as well. Rhaella added. Aemond grimaced. Why she would venture to Dorne for a husband? It was beyond him.

“They’re all right, you are quite strange,” Aemond said. Rolling her eyes, Rhaella stood up in a huff, dusting off her dress.

Aemond stood as well, placing the book under his arm.

“I don’t much like being called that,” Rhaella said. The two began walking to the festivities. Rhaella was fixed on not missing the cake.

Suddenly, Rhaella halted in place, a sly smile dancing across her face. Turning to Aemond, she places a peck on his cheek, causing the boy to freeze.

A furious blush makes its way to Aemond’s cheek, much to Rhaella’s enjoyment.

“What was that for?” Aemond asked, fumbling his words.

Rhaella stared at him in bemusement. She turned to continue walking, Aemond quick on her heels.

“You should cheer up, cousin,” Rhaella said.

“I’m here for you, after all.”

#black oc #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #baela targaryen #oc character #aemond targaryen #rhaena of pentos #laena velaryon #vhagar #caraxes #house of the dragon x reader #house targaryen #hotd fanfic

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ateezscupid · 1 year

Note

For the ATEEZ prompt event, could please do #7 for the story plot, then #57 and #61 from fluff? Could you do it for Jongho please?

57: “i want everyone to see that we belong together.”

61: “i would never regret a thing in my life, since it led me to you.”

𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗯𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ⋆ 𝖼.𝗃𝗁 𝗑 𝗀𝗇!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

plot - raised in an orphanage, you know nothing of your magical heritage. however, when you reached the age of maturity, you discovered that you possessed the powers of both the light and the dark. you don't know how your dark powers came to be, but they could get you killed by the magical enforcers: a group sworn to remove black magic from the world. that’s why you fled the orphanage in the dead of night and never looked back. you survived on the streets, using your wit, grit, and a few of your dark powers, but only when absolutely necessary. now an adult, you remain in the shadows, keeping to yourself. one fateful night you stumble across an attempted murder. you refuse to watch an innocent man be killed. you save their life with no choice but to use your dark powers. little do you know that the handsome person you saved is, in fact, a magical enforcer.

genre + warnings - fluff, mentions of blood, mentions of wounds

word count - 1.71k

tags - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13

being on the run wasn’t fun. having to move from place to place, having to cover your half of your face so you wouldn’t be caught by any enforcers, it became tiring. but throughout it all, jongho was there to reassure you and keep you safe.

the way you and jongho met was—interesting. you, a person who was born with dark powers, finding a magical enforcer on the ground gasping for air as he was covered in blood. you couldn’t just leave that man on the ground dying a slow death? he could’ve had a wife at home, or kids! a family who saw their father leave and never comeback, you couldn’t do that to him.

you used your powers to heal him, just enough to take him to your base and fix him up correctly. of course, the man passed out the minute you arrived. while he was unconscious, you wiped the blood off his face, neck and clothing. just as you were cleaning his armor, his eyes open.

the moment he saw those pretty, jet black orbs, he knew what you were. he jumps out of your hold and backs up. it took a minute to explain to him why he was even there in the first place, but he sat and listened . did he want to? no, he didn’t, but he stayed anyway.

but as he stayed, he grew more fond of you day by day. he introduced himself as jongho. throughout his stay, you two closed and closer to the point where you guys were dating. but it wasn’t easy. he’d always come home late, either covered in blood and stan w pounds, or in dirt. the amount of times you needed to fix him up was crazy, but you never got tired of it.

as long as you were with him and he was with you, everything was fine. you felt safe with him. even when people were hunting you down, jongho stayed by your side, knowing his life was in danger as well. if anyone found out he associated with you and kept you hidden, he’d be killed too but he didn’t care.

“jongho, i don’t think it’s safe to go out at this hour.” you mutter. “there’s a huge event going on, meaning there’s guards everywhere, meaning some of them are magical enforcers. if they see my stamp, i’m done for.”

“i want everyone to see that we belong together.” he smiled as his grasp tightened around your hand. you looked at him as if he were crazy. he knew if the two of you were caught together, you’d be killed on the spot.

“j-jongho, you know that’s not safe!” you frown. “i-i cant go out there tonight, please, i want to go home.”

“y/n, listen,” he turns you to face him, his hands on your shoulders. “with the amount of times i’ve died your hair, they can’t possibly recognize you. and again, we’re going to be wearing masks? nobody is going to find you. nobody is going to catch you. if someone sees you, i’ll…take care of it. i’d never let anyone hurt you, i love you too much.”

“jongho, i’m still scared… w-what if something happens? s-something bad? i-i—i don’t want you to regret bringing me here or even meeting me and i feel like you do sometimes and—”

“i would never regret a thing in my life, since it led me to you.” jongho cut you off in a stern tone, eyes boring into yours. “being with you has made me the happiest i’ve ever been. i wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.”

“jongie, you’re gonna make me cry.” you sniffle and pout. he loved when you made that face. you looked adorable.

“it’s okay, just know i love you. and you look adorable when you make that face. now, can we leave now? i heard they had free food, so we could take some home with us. are you okay with that?”

“mmmm, i’m fine with it. let’s go, i’m hungry.”

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streetlight11 · 6 months

Text

Surf's Up

Summary: To have a hobby is fun but to turn that hobby into a passion? Not many people can do that. Yet, you managed to turn your hobby into your passion and this has been going on for years now. Every year leads to a new challenge. And every challenge consists of fighting for that first place against your one and only rival you can't seem to shake away from

Theme: surfers au, rivals to lovers

Genre: slowburn, slight angst, fluff

Warnings: mentions of rivalry, partial drowning, mild language, mentions of a deceased, slight harrassment (just a little touch), one-sided feelings (i'm sorry 😭)

W/C: 11.7k

Pairing: Surfer!Changbin x Surfer!FemReader

a/n: Hello Changbin lovers! I wanted to try something a little out of my comfort zone so I decided to write about surfing even though I have absolutely no indepth knowledge whatsoever about it. Do let me know if there's any mistakes in the details and what not, but otherwise, enjoy 🩵

Living in a beach house was probably in everyone’s dreams. Imagine waking up to hearing peaceful waves crashing against the sand, a spectacular view embraces you the moment you pull your curtains back. Except, you had the privilege of waking up to this everyday. This makes it easier for you to catch some waves be it for practice or for fun when you just need some fresh air.

You have been learning how to surf since you were at the age of 9. The reason why you took up surfing as a hobby then soon turned it into passion is because you grew up watching your dad surf. He was a professional surfer who won about 7 championship meets in a row.

That’s where you had the interest to learn from him. He, of course, was happy enough to teach you and eventually, got one of his best buddies to accept you into his surf classes. However, that was also the beginning of your journey with probably your one and only rival in every surf meet you took part in from then on.

His name?

Seo Changbin.

He was one year younger than you. His father is good friends with yours. Interestingly enough, Mr Seo who was not only your surf trainer but is also Changbin's father, and your own father used to be in a surf group back then where they surfed together and cheered for each other for every surf competition they took part in. Which is why you knew Changbin and his older sister but you were only never really friends with Changbin due to how competitive both of you were.

Your father didn’t blame you for being this way with Changbin because Mr Seo also knew about this rivalry and yet, all he and your dad could do was laugh. Your rivalry officially started when you were 13 and he was 12. You lost your first place to him when you landed a second too late on your last trick, making your land a bit unstable and choppy.

Changbin was personally a competitive person when it comes to competitions and games so in that sense, he wasn’t much different than you were. Which is why you both became the perfect rivals.

His family lives just two houses down from your beach house, making it easier for his family to come over to your place whenever the elders wanted to catch up.

This still happens up till this day where your father would just casually invite them over for dinner, meanwhile you would take this perfect chance to head to the beach either for a surf or just chill by the sands. Ever since your mother’s unfortunate passing, that has been the two things you did whenever you felt suffocated in the house or when you got into a serious fight with your dad.

This year, you would be celebrating your 25th birthday and also your 8th birthday without her around. It still hurts you just thinking about it but compared to years ago, you’ve already come to accept the fact that she’s in a better place now.

It was a bright Thursday morning, your classes won’t start until 10am and since it was only 7, you decided to head to the beach. The waves are too calm for you to surf so instead, you took the plastic bowl filled with diced mangoes from the fridge and soon left the house after brushing your teeth and washing your face. You walked down the wooden boardwalk, making your way down to the wooden platform at the bottom of the steps which links to the start of the beach.

It has been approximately 15 minutes since you sat there and basically ate your breakfast whilst watching the early risers taking a morning stroll on the beach, some were even exercising on the beach. You were just picking on your mangoes when a familiar voice spoke up ahead of you.

“What are you doing here? Too sad, you can’t catch a morning wave today?” You looked up from your bowl only to lock eyes with the devil himself.

“Even if I am, it’s none of your concern.” You said, rolling your eyes at him.

Only then did you actually realize that Changbin was glistening with sweat dripping down his neck, all the way down his shirtless toned torso. Toned abs to pair with his broad chest. His arms were probably bigger than your face now compared to a few years ago when he was still small and lanky.

When you realized you were staring, you quickly looked away hoping he didn’t catch on since he never made fun of you. Little did you know, he saw you openly staring at his body. He just chose to keep his mouth shut today.

When he finally left, you let out a breath you never realised you held in.

Hours passed and you had just finished your morning class which is also time for lunch. You began making your way to the lunch hall with your two best friends, Yeji and Ryujin. Right before you make the final turn to head to the lunch hall, a heavy arm suddenly drops on your shoulder followed by a soft ruffle to your hair. You flinched as you glanced up to look at the culprit only to see his toothy grin smiling down at you with his crescent moon eyes.

“Hey! How was class?” Minho asked, to which you couldn’t help but giggle softly and soon realising he wasn’t alone. Hyunjin, who was Yeji’s twin brother, was walking beside her whilst Felix was just talking to Ryujin beside you.

Minho was your friend.

You actually met him in high school and he has been your friend ever since. A little back story, Minho and you used to date for a few months in high school before you decided to break things off with him after you realised that neither of you were ready to seriously commit in the relationship. Nevertheless, both of you mutually agreed to remain as friends. Hence, the reason why he was here with you right now.

The only problem now lies within him. Along the way, he started to develop feelings for you again. Though he tries so hard to keep it from you, sometimes he would accidentally act on it without him realising until one of his friends acknowledges him about it.

To summarize, Minho still has a crush on you. The end.

You, on the other hand, had completely moved on from him. It was quite clear to you that Minho is now strictly in your friendzone. Of course you still love and care for him dearly but just as a friend.

Even so, you didn’t mind having occasional skinships with him because you trusted him. So you were completely fine with him slinging his arm on your shoulder.

“Class was a bore. Can you believe he actually taught us nothing related to Python? It’s ridiculous.” You complained, earning a little chuckle from him.

“But my little Y/N here is pretty smart on her own isn’t she?” He asked, making you giggle. Minho teases you by nuzzling his nose against yours, something he does often after he gives you a compliment. Just then, Hyunjin’s voice calling out to a series of names, piqued your interest as you glanced ahead to see five guys just standing in front of the lockers seeming to chat with each other.

The closer you got, the more you realized just who it was. Sometimes you completely forget that Hyunjin is not only Yeji’s twin brother, but he was also in Changbin’s circle of friends. You also forgot that Minho and Chan have been close friends since high school and while Minho is your friend, Chan is Changbin’s friend in college due to the same class and major they were taking together with Jisung.

So basically, your life was filled with Changbin both personally and publicly. It was useless to try and run away from him.

You watched as the guys greeted each other with handshakes and the manly hug. Meanwhile, you girls continued to walk off allowing the guys to have their moment. Right when you thought you could leave in peace, Changbin’s voice echoed around the semi empty hallway.

“Good luck for the surf meet this Saturday. You’re gonna need it.” All of your friends knew about the annual surf meet that you and Changbin take part in. That means they also know about your strong rivalry with Changbin and yet they always cheered for both of you equally. For that, you’re thankful to have them as your friends and sort of acquaintances.

“Not if I take home the trophy this year.”

“We’ll see about that.” Changbin smirks as you groan in annoyance whilst heading straight for the lunch hall, missing the way Changbin had his eyes fixed on your descending back while Minho watches you storm away with a little smile on his face.

Saturday comes faster than you hoped. You were nervous for the meet but it wasn’t something unusual. You always get nervous for every surf meet, it’s just your anxiety of being the centre of attention in a large crowd. However, it all goes away the minute you step foot in the ocean. Yeji and Ryujin promised to go over to your house before heading to the beach together despite it being right behind your house. You wore your swimsuit which was essentially just swimming shorts and a bikini top with an oversized shirt on.

The three of you began to make your way to the beach, only to see a huge crowd of people just gathered all along the beach where the main tents were. You found an empty spot to stick your surfboard upright in the sand, asking your friends to keep a lookout on your board whilst you went to register your name by the main booth.

Even before reaching the booth, you already spotted a familiar face waiting at the back of the line. It was as if on cue, he turned to his left, locking eyes with you before you saw the corner of his lips curl into a smirk.

“Ready to get your butt kicked?” Changbin asked as you rolled your eyes at him subtly before you answered him.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Let’s make a bet.” He suggests innocently as you join the line behind him.

“Enlighten me.”

“If I win first place, you have to treat me to dinner for a whole week.” Changbin smiles innocently at you as you try to ignore his shirtless figure standing before you.

“Fine. Then if I win first place, you have to teach me how to do a rodeo flip.” You said calmly. You noticed the way his eyes widened for a split second before going back to its natural hooded state.

“Deal.” He said as he held his fist out to you at chest level so you easily fist bump him to seal the deal.

Just then, you heard your father’s voice calling your name followed by Mr Seo’s voice calling Changbin’s name. You both turned to your right to see the two men walking over to you with bright smiles on their faces. You gave your dad a tight hug as Changbin simply let his dad give him a few strong pats to his shoulder.

“Hi kids. We just wanted to wish you good luck.” Your dad said, making you giggle before saying thank you. So did Changbin.

“Remember the lessons I taught you for the past few weeks. Put that into your surfing techniques later out there and I’m sure you will both make it to the top.” Mr Seo motivates you two with his words of wisdom.

“Noted.” Both you and Changbin said in unison as Mr Seo smiled and gently placed his large hand on top of your head in a fatherly manner. Right at that moment, a shove to your side made you crash against Changbin who instantly reached for your waist out of instinct. Needless to say, it felt so right having his hands rest on your waist.

Wait what.

You whipped your head to the side to see who just deliberately shoved you, only to see a woman standing there with her entire back facing you as she talked to your dad. The only problem that struck out to you was how she had one hand hover over your father’s chest while she barely caressed her fingertips down his clothed skin.

Your jaw dropped as you stared at your dad in disbelief. Your father has never mentioned to you about anybody he’s talking to or is contacting. He usually tells you if there is someone special in his life ever since your mother’s passing. So for this woman to touch your father like that, made you shocked.

“Who is she?” You mouthed to your dad the minute he locked eyes with you.

However, seeing how uncomfortable he was and the way he was clearly trying to move away from her, only made your blood boil even more. With that being said, you tapped on the woman’s shoulder eagerly. She let out a scoff before turning to you, a disapproving look prominent on her face but you couldn’t care less.

“Excuse me. Hi. What do you think you’re doing?” You asked with the most sarcastic smile on your face, hoping she’d take the hint.

“What I do is none of your business. Besides, aren’t you a little young to be interested in a full grown man?” She asked with clear disgust in her voice, to which you let out a chuckle to stress on how ridiculous her accusation sounds.

“Me? Interested in… Oh, no sweetheart. I’m not interested in my own father. But I am interested in knowing who you are and why you’re blatantly flirting with him right in front of me.” You said, as you slowly circled her until you were now standing in between your father and herself.

“I think it’s time your father has some fun, considering the years of an unworthy loss, don’t you think?” The woman smirked at you, she clearly has no idea what she’d just set on fire. Without further ado, you took two slow steps to close the gap between you and her, keeping your fiery gaze on her that made her knees go weak.

“Nobody… disrespects my mother like that. So I suggest you get lost before I make your life a living hell.” You said lowly to which you saw her smirk begin to disappear whilst her lips quivered slightly. Nevertheless, she stormed away angrily, earning a few beats of silence from those around you.

That’s when you whipped your head around to meet your dad’s, making you frown upon him.

“You were just gonna let her touch you like that? Weren’t you gonna say anything to her yourself?” You asked in disbelief, making him frown.

“I… I was stunned when she suddenly touched me. I’m really sorry sweetie…” Your father apologised to you, making you feel bad. So you easily wrapped your arms around his waist only to mumble a soft apology against his chest. Changbin, who had been silently watching the entire scene unravel in front of him, couldn’t help but feel touched by how you protected your dad from being harrassed. This somehow made him feel something in the pit of his stomach but he just didn’t want to admit it.

An hour and a half passed, it was time for the final scores to be revealed. You were standing near the sea with Yeji and Ryujin while Changbin and his friends were gathered right next to you girls since Hyunjin was just chatting with his twin sister beside you.

“And finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for! I will announce the top 3 finalists for this year’s Annual Surf Meet! In third place, with a score of 80 points, we have… Choi Yeonjun! Congratulations!” The commentator announced into the microphone as the crowd began to cheer and clap for the boy who was standing not too far from you with his friends.

“And in second place, with a score of 85 points, we have… Yoon Sanha! Congratulations!” Upon hearing this, you frowned deeply as you instinctively turned to Changbin who turned to you at the same time. You obviously couldn’t read his mind but for some reason, it seemed like you both understood each other for once.

This never happened before.

Every surf meet, both you and Changbin would be in the top 3. Only that it’s either you or him taking the first place. So to hear the 3rd and 2nd place going to neither of you, made you curious.

“Wait a minute, if neither of you are in 3rd or 2nd… Then, who’s first?” Hyunjin asked as you and Changbin soon turned back to the commentator who seemed to look shocked at the winner’s list.

“And finally, in first place, with a hefty score of 95 points… Well, it has been 21 years since we had this kind of result and to be honest, I’m pretty sure none of us saw this coming… But, coming in first place for 2023’s Annual Surf Meet goes to… a tie between Seo Changbin and Y/F/N! Congratulations! Can the winners please come forward to receive your prizes.” The commentator announced, all to which your eyebrows rose in shock, your body stood frozen on the sand.

“Omg! It’s a tie!” Yeji, Ryujin, Felix and Jisung said in unison while the rest began to cheer excitedly for you and Changbin. You were still rooted to the ground, making Minho jog to you and soon tugging you forward. You glanced over to Changbin who was slowly walking forward but the minute he locked eyes with your shocked ones, he couldn’t help but smile as he reached out to grab your hand from Minho’s and soon dragged you to the prize booth.

You both took the first place trophy each before standing on the platforms for a photo. After the prize ceremony was done, you got down from the platform only to hear Changbin speak up, “Looks like both our deals would be happening huh?” This made you remember the bet you made earlier before the meet. Well, at least it’s nothing too extreme.

“Looks like I owe you dinner tonight then…” You teased, earning a cheeky little smirk from him. For once you didn’t feel like slapping the smirk off his face and you wondered why.

Your friends came over to you and Changbin as they congratulated you on winning the first place trophy together, making you thank them. Minho suggested having a mini celebratory beach bonfire tonight for you and Changbin. While everyone else seemed to agree, you looked over at Changbin and saw the smile on his face.

“We’ll come after dinner.” He informed the others, only to hear them all say okay. Looks like you’ll have to spend quite a lot of time with Changbin for the next few days.

Hours passed, you had just showered and was blow drying your hair when there was a knock on your bedroom door. So you turned the dryer off and made your way to the door, only to open it and find Changbin standing there. He was wearing a black shirt, a dark grey and white large flannel with denim ripped jeans on. You would be lying if you said he didn’t look good in this fit.

“What are you doing here? Can’t you just wait downstairs?” You asked, stepping aside to let him in despite this being his first time entering your bedroom.

“I wanted to but your dad insisted on making me go to your room since he was heading out to meet some friends which includes my dad.” He said. He walked in a little awkwardly before you closed the door and made your way back to the corner of your room which had a full length mirror and your blow dryer plugged to the socket on the wall.

Changbin leans against your desk as he quietly watches you dry your hair. “Have you decided where to eat?” You asked, trying to make small conversation with him. Today was probably the first time ever in years where you two could sit in the same room without bickering like Tom and Jerry.

“Have you tried that seafood place down the block? I heard it’s really good.”

“Are you planning to get me broke? Cause I can’t afford a whole buffet, just so you know.” You said as you glared at him through your mirror, only to see him smirk.

“Trust me, I’m not a gold digger plus, I don’t like people spending too much on me so you’re good.” Changbin said, giving you a playful wink. You rolled your eyes at him but his wink actually did something to you. You just chose to ignore it. After you finished drying your hair, you went to change out of your pajamas. Changbin begged you to let him choose your outfit, something you’ve never had anyone do before.

Unfortunately, to avoid getting into an unnecessary argument with him, you decided to just let him do what he wants. Within a seriously long 5 minutes of him disappearing into your walk-in closet, he finally came out with your outfit for the night. Which would be a white thin strap crop top, black and white oversized flannel, a denim black button down skirt and your favourite pair of white high top converse.

You stared at the outfit incredulously, only for you to question, “You want me to wear a skirt and shoes when we’re heading to the beach right after dinner?” Changbin shrugged innocently as he tossed the clothes to you, making you catch them swiftly in your arms but he didn’t miss the snarl coming out from your lips.

“Why not? I’m wearing shoes too.”

You let out a heavy sigh as you clicked your tongue in annoyance before asking him to leave your room so you could change.

About 4 minutes later, you came back out fully dressed in his chosen attire.

You found him leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, eyes glued to his phone. When you gently tapped the back of his head, he turned around ready to say something snarky at you but instead, his curious eyes wandered down your body to inspect the outfit he chose for you.

He was clearly satisfied with his choices.

“I know I would never do this on a normal basis… but damn… I chose your outfit well.” Changbin smirked, meeting your eyes again only to see you staring at him softly.

“Don’t get used to it.” You joked, earning a chuckle from him.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

With that being said, both of you left your beach house and soon began to make your way to the seafood place he mentioned earlier.

An hour passed by, the food was pretty delicious but it was a little on the expensive side. Since it was part of the bet, you promised you would pay no matter the price. Of course Changbin didn’t pay for it at the restaurant since it was part of the bet. You managed to make it to the celebratory bonfire your friends were doing that night by the beach. You sat in between Minho and Ryujin as they played a round of truth or dare. Some of them were pretty intoxicated but still sober enough to know what was going on.

It was now Minho’s turn, to which he decided to choose a dare. You silently watched as some of them began to whisper amongst each other. Right when you took a sip of your soda, Chan’s words did not go unnoticed.

“I dare you to kiss your ex.”

Shit.

Sure Minho and you dated in the past but it’s over now. You two are now very good friends. You already moved on from him. Therefore, you shouldn’t kiss him right?

You turned to Minho who was just staring at you softly, his doe eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It’s up to you.” Minho said quietly to you, knowing what you were already thinking. As much as you didn’t want to do it, you knew it was just for a game. Nothing’s gonna come out of it. So it wouldn’t hurt if you kissed him for a silly dare, right?

Just then, for some reason, your eyes naturally travelled around the circle of friends. However, your gaze stopped the minute it landed on Changbin who was seated opposite you with a small frown on his face.

Why was he frowning?

You had to force yourself to break eye contact with him as you turned back to Minho and soon spoke up, “It’s just a dare right?”

“Yeah, of course… We’re just friends now.” Minho said but a small part of you says that he didn’t mean that 100%. Nevertheless, you gave him a slight nod as you reached up to cup his face while you gently pulled him in until you felt his soft lips on yours. You closed your eyes to distract yourself from the squeals around you, feeling Minho move his lips in sync with yours. Unfortunately, much to his dismay, you pulled away a lot quicker than he wanted you to.

Sure it felt nice to kiss someone again but at the same time, it felt wrong to kiss your ex. So you told them to continue the game. A few seconds later, Minho gently reaches for your hand only to whisper in your ear, “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable.” With that being said, you shook your head to tell him it’s okay and that it was just for a game.

You weren’t mad at him anyway so you simply brushed it off. However, it looks like someone found it a little difficult to let the visual and thought of you kissing Minho, out of their mind.

Oddly enough.

The next few days, you have been going for dinner with Changbin just like you promised for the bet. Except, you noticed that he had been less talkative ever since that bonfire night. Of course you didn’t think much as to why he was acting weird at times but it did make you wonder if he was somehow affected by the kiss. But why would he if he saw you as his rival, just like you see him?

Was something changing between you two?

Were you starting to see him as not a rival anymore?

Has he stopped seeing you as a rival?

It was a Saturday afternoon and you were just lazily lounging on the couch with your dad. Both of you were eating the salad you ordered since neither of you had the mood to cook that day. Just then, there was a knock on your front door. Your dad got up to see who it was since you told him you were lazy to go check. You had your eyes fixed on the tv screen until your dad’s voice caught your attention.

“Sweetie, someone’s here to see you.”

You turned around, ready to ask who it was but instead, you were met with a familiar face that leaves what felt like butterflies fluttering in your stomach these days.

“Changbin? Why are you here?” You asked him curiously since it was a little too early to have dinner.

“Get dressed, I’m gonna teach you the rodeo flip like I promised.” Changbin said, making you remember his part of the deal.

“Now?”

“The waves are at their strongest right now. It’s the perfect time to learn the trick.”

“Hmm… Fine.” You puffed your cheeks out in defeat as you got up to keep your salad in the fridge before heading upstairs to change. Once you were ready, you rejoined him downstairs, giving your dad a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving the house with Changbin. Both of you made it to the beach where there was pretty much a weekend crowd. You and Changbin managed to find a spot with not many people around so that you could practice sort of in private.

He explained to you the basics of the trick first and the proper way on how to execute the trick. Every step was briefly explained to you, making you nod. However, you do well by doing instead of listening. With that being said, both of you soon swam out into the ocean on your surfboards, seeing a few surfers catching some waves as well.

Once you made it out pretty far from shore, you waited for the perfect opportunity where the waves were exactly at the correct height and strength for the trick.

“Watch and learn.” Changbin said as he soon pushed himself forward to head further out and the minute he was aligned with the oncoming waves, he allowed his surfboard to rise up along the side of the waves before he stood up on both feet and soon surfed his way down to make his body parallel to the waves.

You watched as he skillfully surfs his way up the high waves and the minute he’s about to launch himself into the air, he bends down to grab his board and soon flips his entire body along with his board backwards. Flipping a complete 360° before he easily lands back on the wave. He balanced himself while he surfs to a gradual speed towards you. Once he made it back to you, Changbin looked at you with a small smirk on his face.

“Your turn.” He said.

With a heavy sigh, you stared into the distance, trying to gauge for the next best wave. When it finally came, you pushed your board forward, similarly to what he did earlier. Unfortunately, you failed to do the flip but since it’s your first try, it wasn’t a surprise that you couldn’t do it.

You tried again for another four times, yet the result was still the same. This was your fifth try, you were about to launch yourself up into the air so you prepared yourself to grab your board.

The minute half of your board was no longer touching the waves, you bent down to grab your board and soon, used all the strength you had to push your body backward.

You finally succeeded in doing a backward rodeo flip in the air. A sense of excitement rushed through your veins as you made a smooth land back on the waves. Your smile stretched from ear to ear, an adrenaline rush engulfing you in an instant.

“I did it… I can’t believe I did it…” You whispered to yourself as you surfed back to where Changbin was.

From where you were, you could see him smile while giving you applause for executing the trick well. The waves were starting to come in every 10 seconds, giving you the perfect opportunity to surf again. When you made it back to shore, he walked side by side with you. Both of you were having an empty conversation about random things when you realised he was walking you to your house.

“Aren’t you gonna head home?” You asked as he turned to you with an offended look on his face.

“I teached you how to do a rodeo flip and you’re asking me to leave already? I’m disappointed… truly.” Changbin fakes a pain in his chest, clutching his right hand over his heart. You rolled your eyes at him only to realise you were right outside your front door.

“Well, I was trying to be nice and spare you the trouble of having to walk all the way here when you could’ve just went straight from the boardwalk stairs right in front of your house but okay…” You said nonchalantly, to which you saw him let out a breathy chuckle at how ridiculously cute you were being.

Just then, Changbin glanced at his wristwatch and soon back to you, “Okay, I guess I’ll see you later for dinner?” You gave him a firm nod as he got quiet for a few seconds before he spoke up again.

“I’ll pick you up at 8?”

“Sure.”

With that being said, your eyes flickered down his face slightly but was quick to recover by looking back into his eyes. You wanted to say something else, not wanting him to leave just yet but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. As if luck was on your side, Changbin decides to say something, “Oh, and wear a swimsuit under your outfit later.” His words piqued your curiosity.

“Why?”

“You’ll see. Just do as I say.” He gave you a cheeky little wink, making you scoff but a smile managed to creep its way onto his face. At that moment, Changbin playfully tapped under your chin with his index finger to gain your attention. Once he got that, he smiled and said to you, “I’ll see you later.”

Changbin didn’t wait for you as he started to walk away with his back facing you. Despite knowing you’ll see him later, you still chose to turn your head to see his descending back. You stared at his back for a few long seconds, a whole bundle of thoughts just swimming around your brain before you finally entered your house.

A few hours later, you had just finished getting ready when you heard your father’s voice calling you from downstairs.

“Y/N sweetie, Changbin’s already here!”

“Okay dad! 2 minutes!” You yelled back as you tied your hair into a low messy bun, leaving a few stray hairs out to frame your face. You were wearing a pretty off shoulder blouse with a pair of denim skinny jeans. Once you think you’re ready to head out, you take your purse from your bed and soon leave the room.

It wasn’t until a compliment came your way, that you finally realized you were at the bottom of the stairs already. “Woah, you look pretty.” Changbin said, making you blush a little but was quick to hide it by scoffing.

“You’re just saying it because my dad is here.”

“What? No, I actually do mean it…” Changbin clarifies himself to you, earning a warm smile from your dad. After you bid him goodbye and kissed him on the cheek, you led Changbin out the house as he brought you to his car. The drive to the restaurant took about at least half an hour. Neither of you could get the topic of surfing out of the conversation but you didn’t mind it at all.

You finally made it to the restaurant as the waiter led you over to a secluded booth far from the main busy area of the restaurant. Once inside, the waiter handed you the menu and boy was the prices a shocker.

“What the hell? One dish is almost 20 bucks?! You’re kidding me right?” You asked as you desperately stared at him in disbelief.

“Oh come on… It’s the last day of your part of the deal. I think it’s only fair since I teached you one of the hardest tricks there is to know.” Changbin challenges you in which all you could do was stare at him until a hole burns through his head. You have been staring at the menu for about 5 minutes now so Changbin reaches over to tap the back of the menu you were holding, only for him to speak up softly.

“Just buy whatever you want. Don’t hesitate.”

“What do you mean ‘don’t hesitate’? Of course I will hesitate if the price adds up to more than 100 bucks! I’m almost broke, Changbin!” You whined at him, earning a loud laugh from him.

“Oh for god’s sake just get anything. Trust me. It’ll be fine.”

And yet, you still chose the cheapest meal and the cheapest drink there after nearly 15 minutes of you two just bickering and staring at the menu.

Minutes slowly ticked by and your meals had arrived long ago. Though you must admit, today’s dinner seemed slightly different than before. There’s something about the way he constantly looks at you whenever you were talking or the way he reached up to wipe off something that stuck to your lips or maybe even the way his eyes would casually flicker between your eyes and lips when you speak.

He was a lot quieter and maybe even calmer tonight as compared to the past week. Maybe it’s just you. Only time will tell. After you were both done with dinner and was about to leave, you stood up to take the bill when you realised the holder with your bill attached to it was missing.

“Where’s the bill?”

“Let’s go.” He said but you didn’t want to leave just yet.

“But I haven’t paid anything yet.”

“Come on, we should get going.” Changbin kept insisting on leaving but you wanted answers so you began storming your way to the cashier point.

“Hi, I would like to pay the bill for table 45?”

The lady checked her list on the computer, only for her to smile, “Oh, it’s already paid.”

What?

“Who did?”

“The gentleman outside.” With that being said, you whipped your head around to find Changbin standing there with his hands in his jeans pockets. You quickly thanked the lady before making your way outside, only for you to slap his arm as a payback.

“Ow! What was that for?” He scowled at you, rubbing the part where you slapped him.

“Why did you pay for it? I thought the deal was to treat you to dinner for a whole week? Today’s supposed to be the last day for that.”

“I know… I just felt like paying tonight.”

“You… just? Felt like paying tonight? Since when are you this nice?”

“Since the day I was born but apparently someone overlooked my kindness too much.” Changbin said with a straight face. You couldn’t help but punch his chest again, only this time, he swiftly grabbed your wrist and tugged you closer. Unfortunately, this made you accidentally crash against him to which your other hand instantly pressed onto his broad chest.

A soft gasp left your lips when you noticed your face was just inches away from his. You were so distracted by the close proximity that you didn’t feel his free arm snaking around your waist until he gently squeezed your waist.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Changbin whispered with a smirk on his face as his eyes were fixed on your lips.

“W-What?! N-No!” You denied firmly, pushing his chest slightly to put a space between you two. However, you instantly missed his warmth the minute he took a step back to give you some personal space.

“I’m kidding. Come on, I’ve got something cool to show you.” Changbin said as he noticed you weren’t going to move anytime soon so he simply laughed and softly slid his fingers down your wrist only to lock fingers with you. You stayed quiet the entire time, even in the car when he began to drive back to the beach near your house.

About 20 minutes later, both of you were just walking towards the other side of the beach in silence. You had already taken off your shoes so that you could walk in the sand as the waves crashed underneath your feet. After what felt like forever, Changbin suddenly turns to you and says, “Take your clothes off.” This was enough to make you yell ‘what?!’ out loud. With that, Changbin immediately held his hands out in a surrender whilst he explained himself.

“No! No! That’s not what I meant! Geez! Remember I told you to wear your swimsuit under your clothes? This is the reason why. We’re going for a swim.” Changbin said, making you relax slightly but still eyed him curiously.

“Is this your tactic to get me somewhere secluded so you can kill me?” You asked as he laughed at your ridiculous accusation.

“Trust me, you’re not worth killing. Now hurry up!” Changbin said as he began to pull his hoodie over his head swiftly, bringing his shirt up as well. Once he was standing there shirtless, you started to carefully take off your blouse while he took out his belt and unzipped his jeans, pulling his pants down.

“You know, this would seem so wrong to people who see us from a distance.” You huffed, knowing you had a crucial point.

“Which is exactly why I told you to hurry up.” Changbin said as he hid his clothes in between the rocks so that no one could steal them. After you were finally in just your swimsuit, you went ahead and hid your clothes as well before trailing behind him. You entered the water little by little until you were waist deep.

“Changbin, where are we going?”

“Just follow me.” He said as he began to swim out into the ocean.

You let out an annoyed sigh but nonetheless followed him. You swam around the side of the beach, surprised to find a hidden little island which instead of being surrounded by sand, was surrounded by big boulder rocks.

When you made it to the rock beside him, that’s when you decided to ask him how he chanced upon this place.

He explained to you that he was just surfing one day when he came across this hidden island. He was curious so he went to check it out himself one night. Changbin has also been coming here almost every night ever since because he claims it to be really calming and peaceful especially after midnight. After he finished explaining himself, you watched him quietly just splashing the water around with his legs. Changbin nodded his head towards the rocks to his left and so you swam over.

You were just carefully stepping on each boulder, gauging as best as you could considering the water was pitched black and you couldn’t see shit. You can’t even see past the water surface. With that being said, you tried your best not to slip but of course, luck wasn’t on your side today. A sharp gasp left your lips the minute your feet slipped on the boulder. You sunk at least half a meter deep up to your chest but then the firm grips to your waist stopped you from submerging completely.

Changbin then steps onto the same boulder behind you since you could feel his body so close to your back, not that you mind it per se.

“Be careful.” He said softly to you, feeling him squeeze your side a little. You didn’t know why but you just decided to turn your head thinking to reply to him. Except, your plan immediately went down the drain the moment you felt his lips graze over your cheek when you turned. You visibly gulped nervously in which he saw so he decided to tease you.

“Do I always make you nervous?” He asked, earning a soft scoff from you. To avoid looking weak, you bravely turned to face him completely despite feeling his arms snaking around your waist to prevent you from slipping again.

You held your head up high, challenging him even though you knew very well that you would lose.

“No, but you can be a serious pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Really? Fine then.” Changbin said as he easily let go of you and you immediately fell backwards due to the lack of balance. This caused you to splash into the water, knowing he was enjoying the shit out of this. When you finally resurfaced, Changbin was just laughing at you for falling.

So you splashed a good amount of it onto him out of sheer anger.

You struggled to stand on the boulder, but when you managed to do that, you took this opportunity to push him off as well. He fell back, submerging fully underwater just like you did earlier. The only problem is, he never resurfaced.

“Changbin? Changbin it’s not funny… Changbin?” Your voice gradually get softer as you began to panic. He was still not resurfacing and it was starting to worry you.

Did you push him too hard?

What if he hit his head underwater when you pushed him?

Did you accidentally kill him?

You didn’t realize there were tears forming in your eyes as you stared into the dark water. You dipped your hands underwater to try to feel for him. However, your heart nearly exploded out of your chest when a pair of hands grabbed onto your waist from behind. A short scream left your lips, your heart dropping at the thought of it being a sea monster or even worse, a sea ghost.

Just then, a familiar giggle echoes in the air to which you turned around to find him there just laughing at you. His wet hair sticking to his forehead messily, covering half of his eyes as well. You slapped his chest twice to emphasise your annoyance but all he did was giggle again and shook his head from side to side to get rid of the water droplets on his face and air ruffle his blonde brown locks.

When Changbin finally stops laughing to stare at your eyes, he realises they were watery and it was clearly not from the sea water.

“Wait… Are you… crying?” He asked quietly to which you sniffled and stubbornly replied to him with a firm ‘no’ but he knew it was a lie.

“You are crying. Were you that worried for me?” He asked but you never answered. Instead you just pushed yourself out of his grip to swim back to shore before he could even stop you. Once you made it back, you quickly grabbed your hidden clothes and started to speed walk back to your beach house. All while ignoring his calls. You were about to reach the boardwalk stairs when his firm grip on your wrist made you stop.

He came around to stand in front of you, seeing the way you desperately avoided his eyes by staring at the wooden boards behind him. And there, he too realises that on your way back here, your tears were finally falling freely down your cheeks.

“Y/N…” He whispered as you quickly pulled your arms out of his grip and sniffled.

“I’m fine. Goodnight.” You said as you walked past him. Changbin never said anything else but his heart shattered a little, feeling bad knowing that he was the reason for your tears.

Monday came rolling in, you remembered you had a netball tournament that day so you brought your attire in your backpack. You haven’t seen or talked to Changbin since that night so when you saw him in one of the tables at the lunch hall, you avoided his eyes right before he could turn to look at you. He wanted to talk to you, he wanted to ask if you were still upset with him, he wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to ignore him forever because he probably couldn’t live with that.

However, he could see that you didn’t want to be near him for now which is why he decided not to bombard your personal space. Sure you guys were rivals when it comes to surfing but sometimes, even he knows that it’s ridiculous for him to hate you entirely just for that reason alone.

Hours passed and you had already changed out of your casual clothes into your netball attire which was essentially just running shorts, your team jersey and your sports shoe.

The indoor sports hall slowly began to fill in with students from both your campus and the opposing school. You were just strapping on your knee guards when your curious eyes began to wander around the room. Your heart skips a beat the minute you see familiar faces in the crowd, more specifically two people.

Ignoring them, you soon started the game. So far, your school was winning by just two points ahead. It’s a close game that keeps everyone at the edge of their seats. You were just about to toss a high ball to your teammate over on the other side of the court when the captain of the opposing team deliberately crashes into you, making you lose the ball.

She smirked but you were angry. Suddenly, the referee blew her whistle and held a yellow card up with her left arm which has the blue wristband to indicate that it’s for your team.

This made you even more pissed.

With that being said, you stormed up to the referee to voice out your concerns.

“Yellow card? I didn’t even do anything!”

“I’m just doing my job. I saw what I saw. You get a yellow card.” She said nonchalantly to which you scoffed.

“I didn’t even touch her! She’s the one who pushed me! What? Did she bribe you? That’s why you’re being unfair to my team?” You argued back, only for your coach to come over with a frown on her face.

“Hey, hey? What’s going on here?” Your coach asked as you listened to the referee who explained that you were the one making the offense.

“I didn’t fucking touch her!” You said out loud, ignoring the fact that almost everyone in both teams were now gathered around you.

“My statement is final. Yellow card goes to the Konkuk team. If you repeat this again, you will be disqualified.” The referee said, making you let out a frustrated groan. You stormed off, pushing past the referee and the girl who crashed into you purposely. You were about to leave the hall when a grip to your wrist made you stop.

“Leave me alone!” You growled but the sweet voice made you instantly calm down.

“Y/N, stop. Please… I know it wasn’t your fault but you can’t just leave your teammates back there like this. They need you.” Minho said gently as he stood in front of you now with one hand holding your wrist while the other held onto your other forearm.

“What if I get disqualified? Leaving the game is better than getting kicked out halfway through…” You said firmly. You were about to walk away when Minho held you back again.

“Y/N…” Minho sternly called your name as he stared at you like how an adult scolds a child for being stubborn. You felt slightly intimidated by the way he was staring at you so eventually, you ended up avoiding his gaze by gently getting your arms out of his grip.

“I… I don’t know Min…”

Just then, he softly reaches for your waist with one hand before cupping your face with the other and caressing your cheek with his thumb. This was something he usually did to calm you down when he was still dating you.

“Please? Do it for your team? They need you…” He said to which you finally looked up at him. For a brief second, you could’ve sworn you saw him glance down to your lips.

“Okay… Fine…” You whispered to him, earning a relieved sigh from him. At that moment, Minho suddenly began to lean in until his face was so close to you. This made you panic so you flinched back slightly in shock.

“W-What are you doing?” You asked softly, earning a halt from him.

“H-Huh? Oh. S-Sorry… I um… It’s just a habit I guess…” Minho said, knowing it was just an excuse. When you’ve finally rejoined the team, you focus on the game but unfortunately, your team lost the tournament. Once everyone was dismissed, you noticed your friends still seated in the bleachers so you went up to them. That’s also when you accidentally locked eyes with Changbin who was just staring at you like you’ve just told him his pet died.

The closer you got, the more you felt the need to look away and so you did. The only problem is, your heart was yearning for him and you don’t understand why.

All of you left the hall as Yeji, Ryujin, Felix and Jisung were constantly trying to cheer you up.

When you reached the parking lot, you were going to leave the front gates but Changbin’s raspy voice spoke up to catch your attention, “Hey Y/N, I’ll send you home.” You didn’t know if it was due to your heart yearning for him or you just didn’t have the energy to reject his offer, but you simply nodded. You completely missed the way Minho was staring at you with nothing but pain in his eyes. Of course he knows you’ve moved on. He knows that he can never be with you again and yet, why did it hurt him to see you leave with Changbin?

Half an hour later, you finally made it in front of your house. The entire car ride was filled with silence but you didn’t really mind it. You were just glad that you were close to Changbin again. However, when the car finally came to a gradual stop, he puts the gear to park and soon turned the ignition off. Both of you sat there in silence before you quietly thanked him.

You wanted to just leave before it got even awkward but the minute you opened your side of the car door, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist gently.

“Wait…” He said so you stopped. You kept your back to him but he continued talking, “If you’re still upset about that night, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you worry… I just… I just thought I could loosen things up with you. But I get it if you’re still upset.” He soon let go of your wrist, leaning back into his seat properly. When he never spared you another glance, you simply kept quiet and left his car.

You mentally cursed yourself but nevertheless, entered your house without looking back.

The week went by, you still haven’t properly talked to Changbin. It was a Saturday late afternoon and your friends invited you to a little beach birthday party for Lia. Since you were going to the beach, you decided to just wear denim shorts, a sleeveless top and an oversized flannel. When you made it to the beach, most of them had already made it there. All except for Hyunjin, Yeji and Jeongin.

You sat beside Chan as far away from Minho and Changbin as possible. Minutes ticked by, you were just listening to Lia telling a story when you caught Changbin swirling his plastic cup filled about an inch with the grape soda, his hooded eyes softly staring at you but he was quick to look down when he realized he was caught staring.

A few minutes later, you noticed the waves were perfect for a surf. As much as you know you should stay and celebrate Lia’s birthday, you couldn’t ignore the urge to catch the wave.

With that being said, you got up from your seat and began to walk to Yeji to tell her what you wanted to do.

“Oh, okay! Just come back for dessert when I call for you okay?” She smiled, to which you gave her a firm nod. After you left, you decided to head to the lifeguard post since they have spare surfboards there and also, one of your close friends worked there too.

The minute you arrived, you saw his purple hair staring at you as his back was facing you completely.

“Hey Jungkook!”

The male turned to look over his shoulder, seeing the corner of his lips curve up into his usual toothy grin.

“Oh, hey princess. What are you doing here?” He asked as he pressed his forearms on top of the counter and leaned forward to let his face hover closely in front of your face. If passerbys saw this, they would definitely think Jungkook was trying to flirt with you.

“Can I borrow a surfboard? I promise I’ll bring it back in one piece.”

Jungkook eyed you skeptically with a raised brow.

“Please? I’ll treat you to ice cream after your shift.” You bat your eyelashes at him knowing he was always weak for this.

“Fine. You know how to tear me down don’t you?” Jungkook scoffs at you but the smile growing on his lips did not go unnoticed. Once he places the surfboard on the counter, you press your palms on top of it and push yourself up, swiftly giving him a peck on his left cheek near where his healed scar was.

Jungkook’s chuckle made you giggle as you took off your clothes, leaving only your swimsuit that you wore underneath. After placing your dry clothes on his countertop for him to keep guard, you thanked him once more and soon swiped the surfboard off the counter before jogging towards the beach.

The waves were strong but not too powerful to the point where you can’t surf. So when you finally entered the water, you plopped the surfboard down and began to walk further down until the water reached your thighs. Only then did you lay on top of the board and used your hands to paddle.

You had made it pretty far out into the sea, just gauging and waiting for the perfect wave to come strolling in.

Just then, you saw the perfect one coming so you smiled to yourself as you turned your surfboard around to get ready. The moment you were lifted at an angle by the waves, you easily balanced yourself and stood on your feet, gliding across the waves skillfully whilst executing some tricks.

You did this a couple of times, even managing to do a tube ride where you surf through the wave loop, stretching your hand out to let it glide through the waters.

Surfing has always calmed you down whenever you were stressed or just in need of fresh air. And sometimes, it was the best boredom reliever in your opinion. You were probably on your forth surf now, just enjoying the cutback when a baby seal suddenly launched out of the waves right in front of you. This made you squeak as you lost your balance on the board and soon crashed into the ocean.

You sank at least 8 feet under the surface, swallowing a large amount of salt water by accident. The raging waves were making it hard for you to resurface as it simply swallowed you back down when you were about to reach the surface.

You weren’t sure how many minutes had passed but every time you resurfaced, you barely got time to breathe in oxygen before the waves swallowed you whole again. Just when you were about to lose your consciousness, your blurry vision managed to catch a figure diving underwater and swimming their way to you.

From the person’s overall size and figure, you knew it was Changbin.

He soon wraps an arm around your waist while the other scoops up and back down his side to push himself upwards. After what felt like forever, you finally resurfaced, taking a huge gasp of fresh air. The waves were slightly calmer now but it was still quite choppy. You coughed out the water in your lungs as you held onto his shoulders for dear life.

Once you managed to cough out whatever salt water you swallowed and return your breathing to normal, you finally heard him ask from above you.

“Are you okay?”

You had your head down so essentially, your face was buried in his neck. He had one arm securely around your waist while the other wraps over the surfboard to keep you both afloat. When you didn’t reply to him, you felt him squeeze your waist gently and pushed the tip of his nose against your temple before he whispered softly into your ears, his voice sounding so light and concerned.

“Hey? You okay?”

With that being said, you finally brought your head up only to let your face meet his that was barely an inch away. You could literally feel his soft lips brush against the bridge of your nose very lightly.

You carefully glanced up to look at him but instead, you caught him staring a little down south from your eyes.

Nevertheless, you gave him a small nod to answer his question, making him let out a relieved sigh. Changbin tilts his head down, making his nose brush against the side of your nose, letting his lips hover right above yours as he closes his eyes.

“Thank god you’re okay.” He whispered very very quietly, making your heart pound rapidly in your chest. Neither of you dared to say anything so he opted to just get you back to safety before it got even awkward.

“Come on, get on the board. I’ll get you back to shore.” Changbin said as he uses his strength to push the board down underwater so that you could climb onto it. Once you were at the front of the board, he easily did the same for himself, swinging his leg over so that he was now sitting behind you. Both of you began to paddle back to shore and once you did, he got off the board first before helping you.

Immediately, your friends had gathered near the waters just patiently waiting for you and Changbin to come back safely. “Oh my god Y/N! Are you okay?!” Yeji asked as Jisung, Hyunjin and Felix asked you the same question in unison.

You nodded, drifting your gaze to the side where Jungkook was seen jogging towards you. Without a single word exchanged, he wrapped his arms around you to pull you into a tight but secure hug. “You scared the shit out of me! Don’t ever do that again, you twerp.” Jungkook said against your hair, making you smile.

“I’m sorry…” You apologized, earning a little sigh from him.

“You’re lucky he came fast to save you. I was just about to go when I saw him already running to the waters and I didn't have a surfboard with me.” Jungkook said as he nodded his head to someone behind you.

Without saying a thing, you already know who he was talking about. You apologized once again before Jungkook asked to walk with him so that he could help dry you off and change back into your dry clothes. On your way back to the lifeguard post, Jungkook had brought a towel with him as he wrapped it around your figure, not forgetting to pass Changbin one too.

“So… who is he? Your boyfriend?” Jungkook asked with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Who? Changbin?”

“Is he the one who saved you?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, him. Is he your boyfriend?”

“N-No… Why do you ask?”

“Just curious… Since he ran in after you, I just figured he cares a lot about you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend…” You said in defeat as he entered the post to get your clothes.

“Really? But you two look so good together though…” Jungkook said when he came back with your dry clothes in his hands. You simply brushed him off despite your heart stammering in your chest. Just while you were putting your flannel on, Jungkook’s voice made you snap your head up to look at him.

“You know, it’s never too late to ask someone out on a date. Guys find it hot if a girl makes the first move.” Jungkook smiled as he gave you a cheeky wink before walking away to attend to a customer.

With that being said, you huffed but his words slowly circled your mind.

You left after waving goodbye to your close friend. When you made it back to the party, everyone had already made their way back to where the bonfire pit was. They began to shower you with questions about your wellbeing but all you said was ‘I’m okay’ and nothing more in detail. After a while, you realise that Changbin was nowhere to be seen. You went up to Minho who was the nearest to you at the moment.

You gently reached for his forearm, earning his attention as his lips curved into a smile upon seeing you.

“Hey Min, have you seen Changbin anywhere?” You asked as your eyes began to search around but still no luck. You didn’t notice the way his smile falters a little as he then looks down for a second before hesitantly answering you nonetheless.

“I saw him going up there. Probably he went home to get something?”

Once you’ve gotten the information you need, you begin to leave the bonfire not before telling Yeji you’re just going to grab something at home. When you reached the top of the boardwalk, you saw Changbin’s back making his way directly past his house.

Wait what?

You silently followed him, wanting to see where he was going.

After a few minutes of strolling, you found yourself at a much quieter part of the beach side where you were literally far from where society was. Changbin stops at a lookout point that hangs over the cliff right beside the open beach on your right. To the left is where the beach stops and is replaced by cliffs and dangerous rocks, blending and merging into the sea.

You watched as he stood at the edge of the railing, letting his hair flow with the wind. His loose tank top swaying with the sea breeze. He was so busy being distracted by the sea that he completely missed your creeping presence until you spoke up, “The sea is nice, isn’t it?”

Changbin jumped slightly but soon maintained his cool by turning back towards the sea.

“No one understands the sea like we do.” Changbin said, earning a smile from you.

“Because we’re the only ones who actually ride with the waves.” You said confidently, making him chuckle. Both of you fell silent for a few seconds but he was quick to break the ice.

“What are you doing here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay… I mean, afterall, you did save me from dying earlier.”

“That was just out of instinct. Especially since I’m the only one amongst our friends who could actually swim in the open sea.” Changbin smirked, letting out a cute giggle you’ve realised was his signature laugh. You were now standing next to him with your hands on the railing. Both of you were looking out at the sea while you let your body enjoy the breeze. You didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings at first until you felt a teasing touch on your pinky.

That’s when you looked down to find his hand inching closer and closer to yours until his pinky was playfully touching yours. Neither of you spoke up but actions for sure spoke louder than words. Changbin took a very light step closer to you while he stood straight and let his hands slide off the railing. You naturally got curious so you turned your body to face him slightly.

“Do you wanna head back?” He asked very softly.

“Not yet… I wanna stay here a while longer.” You said as your voice gradually gets softer with the way he gently slides one hand around your waist while the other reaches up to cup your neck. Changbin leans forward slightly until there was barely any space left between you two but you didn’t complain.

“Like this?” Changbin whispered while his eyes were now fixed on your lips despite knowing it was already obvious. So with that being said, you carefully cupped both of his soft full cheeks in your hands while you brushed the side of your nose against his and smiled, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Just like this.” That was all you managed to whisper before Changbin’s lips curve into a wide grin and soon kiss you like he’s been waiting for this moment for years.

You indulged the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck when you felt his hands press against your lower back. He holds you securely against him while his addictive lips kisses you passionately. Changbin slides his tongue over your bottom lip, making you giggle into his mouth. He deepened the kiss with you, feeling him squeeze your waist.

When he pulled away for a breath, he went back in for another two more pecs before he said against your lips, “This doesn’t mean we’re not rivals anymore for surf meets.” He teased you, earning a little tug of his hair from you but very gently not to hurt him.

“I’ll take it.” You smiled, to which Changbin chuckled as he kissed you longingly while still hugging you close.

When he pulled away from you, he stared at you for a bit before he reached up to caress your cheek with his thumb and swiftly tucked your fallen hairs behind your ear. Your hands rested on his firm broad chest, letting your fingers curl against his chest while you hang your head down for a brief second.

Changbin tucks his finger under your chin and once you make eye contact with him, that’s when he leans in to let his lips hover above yours for a second or two before he whispers his confession.

“I think I really like you… and I hope I can take you out on a date one day if you’d want to.”

With that being said, you gently wrapped your fingers around his wrist that was holding your chin, guiding his hand down before you cupped his face and smiled.

“I’d love that… because I think I like you too.”

Both of you began to laugh as he kissed you like he was actually addicted to your lips. Secret was, he really is addicted to your lips. After spending almost 15 minutes with him, you finally began to head back to the beach party where everyone was starting to bombard you with questions on where you were. You seemed to stay by Changbin’s side the entire evening yet still going around to mingle with everyone else.

Looks like the next time you go for a surf meet with Changbin, you can finally say “Surf’s Up” without having it to mean crushing the other for first place.

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