#her shirt has a WAY different closure but there's a plain collared on in the pack too
Karma’s a Bitch - pt 10
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Summary: Closure. That’s what you needed to finally forget that memory of your past. A memory that shaped you into becoming the person you are today. Perhaps you wouldn’t find closure, but instead, closure in the form of a boy would find you.
Pairing: Jimin x female reader x Jungkook
A/N: Prepare for the fluff!!
* - * - * - * - *
It’s been two days since you made up your mind. It was enough time to sort some things out as well as get comfortable with Jimin, at least by text. Even though you still felt unprepared to “face” him, you figured texting him would be a good practice before seeing him again. It looked like Jimin had the same timing as you since he asked you out today. It was Saturday, so you had the whole day available. You had agreed with him on the time to meet as you wanted to seem as devoted as him. Some part of you knew that devotion wasn’t 100% fake as you still could feel the butterflies flying in your stomach. However, you told yourself it was the nervousness of what you were about to start. No positive feelings could be directed to Jimin, he didn’t deserve them. Chugging a glass of water, you tried to erase all second thoughts out of your system. This would happen no matter what. There’s no going back, you told yourself. You decided to focus your attention on picking an outfit. Analyzing your previous choices for dates, you picked out an outfit like those you used before. To look presentable enough, you did some curls on your hair and applied some make-up as well. You are ready. That’s the mantra you played over and over in your head. It was time you faced your destiny.
Jimin had told you he would pick you up at your apartment, so you waited until he called you. It was incredible, really, how punctual he could be. Once you descended the stairs and exited the building, you could see his car parked just across the street. What got you confused was the unoccupied car. Taking a step outside, you looked left and then right, and there it was, a bouquet of roses in front of your eyes. You blinked several times and it descended to show a handsome young man. For a second, everything stilled around you. It was like the perfect romantic movie, you had to admit it. Everything was so classic, so cliché. From the way his expensive car was parked, to the way the roses smelled, to how his face seemed to be just another beautiful flower standing out above the others; everything was perfect. You had forgotten how perfect Jimin was, and now you worried his charms might seduce you. God, the way his smile made way to his face was irresistible. You gulped as he gave you the flowers while he said “Hi.” Managing to smile as well, you gave him a shy “hi,” as you accepted the flowers. Still fazed by the bouquet in your hands, you asked him, “why the flowers?” At that, he looked down with a shy smile on his face, and when he looked back at you, you could have sworn his eyes looking at you almost killed you. “Today is a special day,” he said. Special? Why would it be special? Just like that, you remembered why it was special, not for Jimin but for you. You couldn’t lose focus like this anymore. Have some grasp in yourself, you scolded internally. Still being confused by Jimin’s statement, you asked, “Why is it a special day?”
“You’ll see,” was all he said. He then guided you to his car, opening the passenger’s door for you before going to the other side of the car and seating in the driver’s seat himself. You didn’t have time to appreciate Jimin’s outfit back at your building's entrance, but now you could see the similarity yet the contrast of his outfit to the one he used on your first date. While on your first date he wore a simple black outfit with a beige cardigan, he now was wearing a plain white shirt and a blue cardigan with a white and red stripe by the collar. Back then, he looked mostly hot with a pinch of cuteness, but right now he went overload with cuteness. He looked so simple yet so pure; so sincere. You realized you were starring but not before Jimin realized as well. “I’m glad you still enjoy what you see,” he said with a small smile not taking his eyes off the road. You knew the reference he was using, so you applied the same technique as well, “I do, and I’m not a little sorry about it,” you smiled with confidence. At that he spared you a glance and laughed shortly, “Believe me, I’m the one who feels sorry for not being able to look at you,” he shook his head still focusing on the road. Looking out of the window, you scoffed internally. Back then he would have regretted sparing you a glance instead. The ride seemed rather long as you both remained silent, each one consumed in their own thoughts. Jimin stopped the car and you were drawn to reality again. You both got out of the car, and you absorbed everything around you. It was beautiful. A few steps away from you was a lake which reflection portrayed a clear blue sky. Looking around you, different trees and colorful flowers surrounded the clean lake. It took you some time to take everything in as you breathed the fresh cool air. Looking at Jimin, you tried to express your adoration for the choice of place. “Jimin, this is…”
“Beautiful,” he finished for you. Though, from the way he was looking at you, you knew he wasn’t referring to the place. He couldn’t take his eyes from you and you were struggling as well but having mixed feelings within you made you break the eye contact as you focused once again on the lake.
You heard him move away from you, so you looked over to see him walking towards his car. He opened the trunk of the car and took something out of it. As he moved towards you once again, you could see him carrying a big basket. You couldn’t stop your curious (or was it your teasing) side, so you asked, “What’s the basket for? Are we collecting flowers today, flower boy?” It came out rather flirty, and you noticed Jimin was out of words. He wasn’t expecting that nickname, you guessed. After a moment of silence, he placed the basket on the floor and once he straightened again, he questioned with a smirk, “Flower boy?” You decided this was the perfect opportunity to express your fake intentions to him, so you went with the flow. Faking shyness, you looked at him with a small smile and shrugged before turning around and running through the floor covered in flowers. Looking over your shoulder, you saw it worked. He was chasing you probably wanting an answer back once he caught you. You screamed, too immersed in the game as you tried to escape his open arms. You managed to escape him several times and kept running in different directions. The game didn’t last long once Jimin got hold of one of your wrists, causing your feet to lose balance from the sudden stop. Screaming once again, you already anticipated the fall as you closed your eyes shut. With your eyes closed, your other senses intensified as you could smell the most delicious essence. You wondered for a second if it was the fragrance of the different flowers surrounding you, but as you opened your eyes, you realized it was, in fact, the delicious fragrance of one unique flower. Jimin’s eyes were on you, searching worriedly for any signs of discomfort or pain. He was on top of you as he probably lost balance as well and fell along with you. He seemed to be holding his weight with both his arms. You smiled unconsciously at how cliché this situation was. Your smile seemed to ease Jimin as he smiled as well. “So, flower boy, huh?” he questioned once again. You groaned as you had to explain it to him as cringy as it would be. “Yeah…I thought it when you were giving me the roses and your face matched them perfectly,” you said looking at anything but him. At his silence, you looked once again to see him smiling tenderly at you, “So, you’re saying I’m as beautiful as a flower?” he asked. Thrown back at his forwardness, you went shy mode again, “I… I didn’t say that.”
“But you implied it,” he continued teasing you. Not wanting to admit to his statement, you thought of a way of escaping him. Using all the force you had, you grasped his right wrist with your left hand and pushed his left side of the body with your right hand. His smiley face changed into a confused expression when you managed to swap you both; now you were on top of him.
Being on top gave you the confidence to end the discussion. “This suits you better, flower boy,” you said gesturing to the bed of flowers surrounding his body. He seemed in awe for a few seconds but, not much after, he started laughing. His eyes formed slits as he kept laughing cutely at the situation. Not sure as to what to do next, you rolled off him and sat beside his lying form, laughing as well. He managed himself to a sitting position as you both simply enjoyed the view.
* - * - * - * - *
Jimin liked Y/N. He couldn’t deny it any longer. That’s why he had planned the perfect date to confess his feelings. He had told her he was nervous, and he truly was. Not once in the past had he been the one confessing, it usually was the other way around. So why was he so eager to say it out loud? And why was he so nervous to let her know? Was he afraid of rejection? It couldn’t possibly be that. No one has ever rejected Park Jimin and no one would, right? He tried to calm himself as he got those thoughts out of his mind. Calming down, he stood up and offered his hand for Y/N to do the same. Breaking from his reverie, she held his hand and let him pull her up. Jimin intertwined his finger with hers as he guided them back to where he had placed the basket. He let her go to spread the tablecloth that used to be on the basket. Then, he placed the basket on top of the cloth before he sat down and motioned for Y/N to do the same. She sat down beside him with a puzzled look on her face. “Is this what I think it is?” she asked. He was about to take the food he prepared for the occasion, but he stopped as he directed his attention back to her. “Well, I don’t know what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, but if it’s the same assumption you made before, then no, flower boy is not collecting flowers today.”
She seemed lost at first but then she grasped what he meant as she seemed to recall the previous events of the date. “Well, I was thinking about something else,” she pouted.
“Enlighten me,” he probed, waiting for her reply.
She seemed reluctant at first since she had been somehow mocked, but her curiosity got the best of her. “Are we having a picnic?”
As a way of answer, he turned around to take out several containers form the basket. “Yes, in fact, we are,” he said as he opened the first container, revealing bibimbap perfectly organized in rows. He didn’t know if it was a change in light, but he could see her eyes shining brighter than before. Jimin knew right then and there that all the effort was worth it.
“I always wanted to have a picnic,” she admitted as she admired the bibimbap. The glint in her eyes only increased when he opened the other containers, offering from a wide variety of fruit to a wide range of strong dishes.
“You’ve never had a picnic?” he asked quite surprised once he opened the last container. She shook her head as he looked back at him again. She was intrigued, he could see.
“I always wanted to, but I never found the chance to do it,” she explained. Jimin congratulated himself for making the right choice for a date. He wished it would make it more memorable for her since she hadn’t had similar experiences.
He gave her a pair of chopsticks and invited her to taste the food. “Well, now’s your chance,” he smiled. Or perhaps had he been smiling all along? He couldn’t tell the difference now. It seemed like his smiley face had become his standard face now.
Nodding, she took a piece of bibimbap and guided it to her mouth. She nodded contently, and once she finished eating it, she said, “It’s delicious, Jimin.”
He couldn’t help feeling shy. He rarely cooked at home since he had a lady who did all the housework, so he was worried it wouldn’t taste good. He had tried some and decided it was good enough but never thought of getting such praise. “I’m glad you liked it,” he scratched the back of his head.
She seemed to be waiting for something and he was lost as to what it could be. After a few seconds, she took another roll of bibimbap and offered it to him. He got caught off guard, but without thinking too much, he opened his mouth. He wondered how to swallow the roll with how hard it was to munch it with the smile threatening to become bigger on his face. Sitting side by side, they both ate until their hunger was ceased.
Laying on his back, Jimin pointed to a cloud that looked like a rabbit. “That one’s a rabbit,” he announced. Y/N followed his finger until she saw it too. “Oh, I see it!” she exclaimed. Then she pointed at another one and he followed her finger. He couldn’t see the shape of that one, so he waited for her to explain what she saw in it. “That one looks like a cloud,” she said.
He looked over at her with an expression reading ‘really?’ She shrugged and then laughed. Oh…that laugh. He wished he could stop looking at the clouds and figure out her smiles instead. Laughing as well, he looked at the sky once again to continue his search.
The sun was setting, and Y/N was picking some flowers while he remained seated on the cloth. He wasn’t the flower boy at the end, he thought, but there was a beautiful flower girl taking his place. He just looked at her, who was smiling contently to herself as she made her own bouquet of colorful flowers. From the way the sun reflected on her eyes, making them a shade lighter than what they usually look like, to the way her dress and hair moved as waves of wind traveled through her body to the way her smile remained on her face as she picked yet another flower, he wanted to memorize it all. Closing his eyes, Jimin saved the memory as something precious he didn’t want to forget. When he opened them again, he saw her making her way towards him with a whole bouquet on her arms. She knelt and smiled, giving him the flowers. She took him by surprise, so he asked, “for me?” She nodded, pushing the flowers forward.
“Yes, flower boy.” He had to admit he was growing fonder of the pet name. Each time she said the words, he felt his heart flutter faster. He accepted the flowers and took a sniff of them, appreciating the different odors they emanated. “You gave me a bouquet, so I figured I could do the same for you… seeing how well it suits you an all,” she explained.
He had never received flowers before. This was new for him. But, if he was being honest Y/N was new for him in many aspects, and he was thrilled to find all the new facets she would show him in the future. “Thank you,” he said truthfully, feeling flattered.
She sat beside him, and both of them silently watched the sunset. Jimin saw Y/N shiver from his peripheral vision, so he took his cardigan and placed it over her shoulders, mirroring his actions of the first date. This time, though, she didn’t deny it and just looked at him before mouthing a “thank you.” She didn’t look away, and he didn’t either. They were already close together, but Jimin moved to close the nonexistent gap between them. His lips connected with hers softly, taking a taste of her blueberry chapstick. Wanting to taste further, he placed his hand at the back of her head to push her forward to him. He felt her hands making their way to his shoulder and then to the back of his head, mimicking his actions. She leaned her head back, deepening the kiss. He then asked for entrance and she complied, allowing his tongue to explore the marvels of her mouth. For what felt like the first time, he tasted her just as she tasted him. Their hands traveled through their bodies just as their lips transported them to different places, finding a perfect rhythm to devour each other. The kiss that started as delicate as a flower petal soon ignited into a competition for dominance. Jimin took over at first, but just as their chase hours before, Y/N found her way to rule over him. He let her take over his tongue, body, soul, and heart. Just as he thought she would break the kiss, he felt her body move towards him. First, he felt her leg go over him and settle down beside him, leaving her in a position where she was straddling him. He hadn’t thought it would escalate that much but he didn’t care, he simply took everything thrown his way. Being on top of him, she had total control over him. He started to worry that if she moved on top of him, he would lose control over his body as well. The kiss lasted for what felt like hours until she broke it and looked into his eyes. He looked back in adoration waiting for her orders; he would do as she pleased. She didn’t say a word, she just looked at him. Jimin couldn’t read her expression, but he now felt confident enough to say the words he had wanted to say all day. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Y/N kept looking at him, but he could see a small smile crossing her now swollen lips. He waited for her reply, and she just looked more into his eyes as if she was searching for something. She then leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “Yes, flower boy.”
Jimin’s heart felt like it would explode, either from her answer or from the way she whispered it into his ear. She then kissed his cheek and leaned back, matching the smile of the flower boy.
* - * - * - * - *
It’s Sunday. The most boring day of the week, yet the most important one for the first time in Jungkook’s life. He felt as if his life depended on this day. One word could change the course of his life forever. He never felt like the type of boy that would let love change his lifestyle, but as they say, ‘you’ll never understand until it happens to you.’ He, however, didn’t understand a thing. Being faced with the opportunity of his life, he was faltering of whether to accept it or not. He knew that studying abroad would offer him a better lifestyle in the future, but the mere thought of being with Y/N made him question if staying would offer him the same thing but in the present. It would be stupid, he knew, to let this amazing opportunity fall out of his hands just because of his heart. If he had a chance to choose, he would choose her in heartbeat, but it wasn’t his choice anymore. Everything was influenced by his family’s expectations, Jimin’s interference, and Y/N’s own choice. This, however, didn’t stop him from wanting to confess his feelings for her before leaving. He had to make something out of his feelings, or he wouldn’t be able to leave peacefully. Leaving without seeing her one last time, and much worse without telling her, would probably cause him the most excruciating trail of what if’s. Once he got an answer, he could be freed from her spell, whichever the answer might be. If he got rejected, he could find closure by being enough time away from her. On the other hand, if he was accepted, he wouldn’t have to go, right? After all his university was good enough as any other in Spain, he decided. It was a scary thing, he thought, to let someone have so much control over your life. But that is love, isn’t it? A scary feeling that made you act with your heart instead of your mind.
The previous night, Jungkook had asked Y/N to meet him to have farewell “party,” or reunion, at most. She had agreed to his invitation, and today he would be able to meet her for the last time. Being a trainer, he didn’t have many clothes apart from his sports clothes, so he found it difficult to choose a good outfit for this important day. Looking in the depths of his closet, he managed to find a pair of skinny jeans and a plain black shirt. His shirt seemed to be way too long, so he tucked it in and added a black belt to complete his look. Thinking on what shoes to wear, he thought back of the pair of black boots he usually wore in winter (for he didn’t like his sinkers getting wet) and decided to add them to his outfit as well. He was a fitness instructor but that didn’t mean he knew nothing about fashion. When he was in school, his mom usually bought him clothes and from her, he learned to know how to dress properly. When he entered college, however, he didn’t see any use in buying expensive clothes as he would only need sportswear from now on. He hadn’t considered back then that he would meet the girl of his dreams. Now, he was beyond relieved to be able to find something appropriate to wear; nothing too casual yet not too formal. He thanked the new trends in fashion as they weren’t that pompous and extravagant as to make him stand out among the others. To finish up, he applied some cologne as he made way to leave.
Jungkook received a text from Y/N stating she would be there soon, so he waited by the entrance of one building he knew all too well. It took about 5 minutes for her to meet him, and the moment he saw her, he knew it was all worth it. Just as she was used to seeing him in sportswear, he was used to the same thing from her, so seeing her wearing normal clothes was astonishing for him. “Wow if this isn’t Jeon Jungkook wearing jeans?” she stated surprised.
He didn’t let it pass as he thought the exact same thing about her, “I could say the same thing for you.” He let his eyes wander through her perfectly shaped legs. She smiled at his remark yet shook her head. “I always wear jeans, but I bet you have never,” she said confidently.
“Well, you are wrong. I used to wear jeans all the time before college, but once I entered my major, I found them unfitting,” he explained his backstory regarding jeans, or normal clothes if he got into specifics.
“Then why not buying a bigger size? Off course your teens’ jeans wouldn’t fit you anymore,” she said with a poker face. Was she teasing him or was she misunderstanding what he said?
“No, I mean… because I had many practical classes, I found sweat pants, for instance, more fitting than skinny jeans,” he explained further even if he suspected she was teasing him.
She let a laugh escape her lips. “Yeah, I know. I was messing with you,” she finally confessed. He let himself laugh with her, for her laugh was contagious. Once the laughter died down, she asked, “So, where are we going to bid farewell to the young Kookie?” she asked looking at her surroundings as if she could decipher it herself. Wait…Young kookie? What? What was with that nickname, he couldn’t let it pass.
“Hey! I’m older than you, you know?” He stated, baffled at her disrespect. She tried to laugh it off but seeing his serious expression, she couldn’t.
“Yeah, you’re right,” she admitted, “But I never got to ask you how you wanted me to call you.” He let that thought sink in. He had never thought of it either, so thinking back on their previous encounters, he thought out loud, “Kook.”
“Kook?” she looked his way. He simply nodded his head like a puppy; and like a puppy he felt, waiting for the next time her lips would pronounce that syllable again.
“Very well,” she nodded her head in understanding, “so, where are we going, young kook?” she smiled his way expectantly. It took him a few seconds to realize she made a pun with his name. She was still teasing him by calling him Young-kook instead of his real name, Jung-kook. He couldn’t contain his laughter. “I can’t believe you,” he said shaking his head in denial.
“I can’t believe myself either,” she said while making fists with her hands as if cringing, “Jin has corrupted me.”
“Jin?” he questioned despite himself. He had heard that name before, but he wasn’t sure in what context.
“Oh, Jin is my best friend. He makes puns whenever he can,” she started, “It seems I’ve been infected despite my best efforts.” She shook her head as if in denial or perhaps disappointment.
Jungkook now remembered a few conversations where that name had popped out, yet he focused once again in the main topic of their conversation. “Well, to answer your question. We are going to do one of my favorite things in the world,” he said.
Looking at him questioningly, she asked “And what is that exactly?”
He let a few seconds pass to create suspense before answering. “Bowling,” he said while rubbing his hands.
“Really?! I haven’t gone bowling in ages! This should be fun!” He couldn’t contain his smile at seeing how excited she was.
“I hope you use all that energy in the game. I like having a good competition,” he stated truthfully. When it came to bowling or any sport at all, he was the best player. At college, being the youngest in his generation and one of the most competitive students, earned him the nickname of ‘golden maknae’. He wasn’t given that name for nothing.
“Well, you aren’t the only one,” she smirked. With that final remark, he opened the door as both made their way to the building. It was a building that offered many options for entertainment including karaoke rooms, an arcade center, and a bowling alley.
They took their time putting on the special shoes before starting the game. He offered her to start, but she rejected it by stating it was “his party,” so it was fair he made the first move. Without fear, he threw the ball and managed to knock 9 pins. It was a good start, yet he realized he was a bit rusty. In his second shot, he knocked the remaining pin. Clapping his hands in excitement, he went to sit on the available couch to appreciate his new points. Y/N stood up as soon as he sat down and without sparing him a glance went for her target. Once she made her shot, he moved forward trying to see how many pins she would strike. A strike. That was what it was. He stood up to see if his eyes saw clearly. She turned around with a triumphant smile as she made her way towards him.
“How?” his mouth whispered in disbelief.
“I told you, I’m a strong competitor,” she answered matter of factly. She was still smiling triumphantly as the points appeared on the screen. If he were against anyone else, he would make his mission to brush that smile off their faces, but he didn’t want to brush that smile off her face. His competitive self, however, wouldn’t spare her life. He didn’t mind her smile, but he wouldn’t let her clean the floor with his dignity.
The game went by with several bad shots from his part and really good shots from her side. At the second part of the game, however, he managed to turn the tables around. It took about 2 hours full of screams to end the game in a tie. Jungkook had to admit Y/N was a strong player. He had never seen her more focused, not even when he had seen her training. Being a competitive person, Jungkook felt somehow turned on by her competitive side. It intrigued him and made him want to be a better match for her passion.
The competition only increased with the result of their match, ending in both of them competing in every game at the arcade. For another 2 hours, they competed with no avail as both ended with another tie when they added their victories. It was reduced to one final option: karaoke competition. Jungkook couldn’t deny his nervousness at the task. He liked singing but not in front of people, even less if it was in front of the girl he liked. Entering the karaoke floor, they asked for a private room and waited to be guided in. The karaoke room seemed clean enough and ready to be used the moment they decided to start. Before starting the final battle, they decided to set rules in order to have clear results of who wins at the end. The karaoke app had a scoring system where every note they made was classified as Good, Perfect or Super perfect, and the song as a whole had a final score regarding its difficulty. In general, depending on which song they decided to sing and how well their performance of each note was, the winner would be decided. The most difficult part, though, seemed to be choosing who would go first. Both, he and Y/N, were stubborn enough to go first, knowing that the last competitor had some sort of leverage. Rock, paper, scissors defined the way to go. Jungkook kissed his fist once he won over Y/N’s choice of scissors. She had to go first. All the energy she had before seemed to vanish from her the moment she stood in front of the screen. She surveyed through the song choices until she found one she liked. He didn’t know what she had picked until her sweet voice sang the first line of the song. It was a slow song with a sweet piano as background. He tried to recognize the song, knowing he had heard it before but failing in his attempt as all his attention seemed to be absorbed by her presence. He could only focus on the stable notes leaving her mouth as she sang the song. She, on the other hand, was totally focused on the screen, not sparing him a glance out of embarrassment. When the song got a stronger beat, she seemed to relax a little, for she swayed her body to the rhythm. She turned around to face him, confident enough to do so. And then, he was blown away. “You’re my only one way…” she sang with force. He couldn’t take his eyes from her as she sang too enraptured in the song to actually see him. From the way she sang, he could tell the song had a special meaning to her as if the song itself represented a memory deep secured in her heart. He listened as he had never listened before, trying to figure out what this song meant for her. The song talked about love, a pure type of love. When the song reached the chorus, she closed her eyes and repeated the same word several times. Heaven. He now recognized the song as well as the feeling it evoked. He knew how a person could make you feel like you’re in heaven. Right now, he felt in heaven by just listening to her. He wanted to close his eyes and let his ears enjoy the music by themselves, but his eyes wouldn’t close. No, they were selfish. They wanted to see her as well as his ears could listen to her. Mesmerized, he watched her go over every note perfectly until the song came to an end. It’s just when the score appears on the screen that he manages to go back to reality. She blinks at him several times, waiting for his reaction, so he rushes to say something. “That- That was,” he tried to say. His mind wasn’t working thanks to his heart. “Awful?” she asked, already lowering her eyes to the ground. “No!” he said immediately. He tried once again. “That was amazing.” Amazing, though, wasn’t the word he was looking for. She went shy mode all over again as she smiled and made way for him to step in front of the screen. He was caught off guard by her performance, so he got nervous the moment he stood up. As soon as he saw the title of the song, he knew it was the chosen one. He picked the song to tell her how he felt for her, even if she didn’t get it. An acoustic version of 2U started playing and he started singing truthfully to the lyrics. He didn’t need to read the lyrics, so with the screen behind him, he sang to her, expressing all the feelings he had been hiding all along. He too closed his eyes at some point, getting too emotional to even look at her. When the song ended, he opened his eyes once again to see her looking at him in awe. He walked towards her and crouched down in front of her. Before she got the chance to say anything, he said with all the courage he could muster, “I meant every word I sang to you.” Her awe soon transformed into confusion, but the yearning in his eyes made her understand what he meant by that. She was speechless, he could tell. But as she searched his eyes, she opened her mouth to answer to his feelings. “Kook, I-” she paused. Without words, he knew what her answer would be. “You don’t have to say anything, it’s okay,” he said even if he didn’t mean it. He had been waiting for her answer even before he managed to ask her. She, however, did answer him. “I’m sorry, Kook,” she looked at her hands on her lap. He knew all too painfully what that meant. It was the most decent way to say she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, but that didn’t help to lessen the pain rejection created. He now felt speechless as well, so he was thankful, or perhaps more nervous when she continued. “I’m actually seeing someone else,” she fired the last bullet. It hurt, but he appreciated the honesty. He knew he had to say something, or at least that’s what he believed must be done. “Oh, I see…” he said, looking down at his feet, but looking once up to ask for something he already knew the answer for. “It’s Jimin, isn’t it?” He tried smiling to show her he didn’t mind, even if he did. He wasn’t going to be an asshole about her feelings just because they didn’t reciprocate his. She didn’t smile, though, when she nodded while looking down at her hands. She seemed ashamed, and he didn’t understand why. If she liked Jimin, she shouldn’t be ashamed to show her feelings for him in front of him. But perhaps, she wasn’t ashamed for Jimin but for him. He couldn’t stand her hiding from him, so he lifted her chin with two of his fingers to make her look at him. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay,” he lied, “We can still be friends.” Damn, how it hurt to say those words, but he had to. At last, she smiled faintly, nodding her head. He smiled too, a true smile from seeing her smiling before he almost lost his balance when she threw herself at him to hug him. “I don’t want to lose you, Kook,” she whispered, holding him tightly.
“You won’t,” he stroked her hair. A second passed by before he added, “but you definitely lost to me today,” he joked. She laughed at that, peeking over his shoulder to see his final score. “Damn!” she said, still laughing. He laughed with her still in his arms. He did win against her, but he didn’t win her at last.
A/N: Oh well, another chapter is up! If you are enjoying this series, please leave feedback, or if you have any question or comment don’t hesitate to shoot! I would really like to improve as the series continues, so I hope in the end it becomes a work I’ll be proud of! Thank you for reading <3
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A Better Resurrection 8
i am too tired to link back to the previous chapters, which can also be read on ao3. thank you for your patience.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cassandra says, breaking the strained silence.
The plains are too wide and far too open, and Varric is too near by far. Cassandra has the sinking feeling that there she will never again be too far away from Varric. He lingers beneath her skin, in the ink-black letters scrolling across her ribcage.
Dorian smirks, as though he knows her mind. As if he could.
Cassandra glares at him, for good measure.
“I’m imagining what you would look like in a dress,” Dorian says. His voice rings out across the plain, bell-like and droll.
Varric says nothing. Cassandra is glad of it, happy his barbed tongue is safely behind his teeth, relieved to not hear some sharp remark about the Seeker in a dress. Dorian catches her watching Varric’s back. There is a guilty sort of look about him, as if his question was less for his own absurd sense of humour and more for…
It is only Dorian indulging himself. If he is unhappy it is because his attempt to goad herself and Varric into a squabble has come to naught.
Cassandra falls back, telling herself she is more suitable to guarding the rear of their party than Dorian. They are still far too exposed and Varric is far too close for her peace of mind. When he is near, her thoughts erupt into a riot of noise and doubt and anger. If they were not fated partners, would her feelings be the same? It is not possible for her to have idealized the dwarf, and yet it should not be possible for her to want-
Whatever it is she wants.
Perhaps she simply misses the freedom to want.
A strange thought. She is a woman grown, one who knows her own mind, her own needs. Except in this. Except for Varric, and their bond.
A heavy sigh slips from her lips.
She is confusing the man with his works. That is all. In Varric’s writing she had found the things lacking in her own life, had discovered an escape through the words he crafted. He had opened a door through which one could see heroes, romance, adventure, stalwart friendships, betrayals… Things which, in fairness, did exist in her own life. Yet it was different. In reality one had to deal with loose ends, with finding your own closure, loves which come to nothing, friendships ended through death or distance, all the mess and untidiness of living. With books, with Varric’s books, there is life but not the everyday kind.
Cassandra lifts her gaze, seeking out Varric’s stocky form silhouetted in the bright sunlight. He stops on the crest of a small rise. Her heart beats. Varric looks back. Cassandra looks away.
It is too hot. The sun beats down on his head and shoulders, baking him in the armour Adora insists he wear. Varric rolls his shoulders, trying to dislodge his sweaty tunic from his back. Behind him somewhere, Dorian and Cassandra bicker. It’s too hot for him to give a damn, and despite it being in no way her fault, he’s pissed off at Cassandra for the location of her signature on his skin. If it weren’t scrawled across his back, he might be able to gain some relief by taking his damn shirt off. Then maybe he wouldn’t be dehydrating and stewing in his own juices at the same time.
“Varric?” Adora’s voice floats towards him.
The world looks soupy, which is a bad sign. They aren’t far from the nearest campsite. All he has to do is hold out until then, when he can drink and wash, and not think about Cass- the Seeker.
Maker’s Breath he has to stop thinking of her as Cassandra. She can’t be anything other than the Seeker to him. Cassandra is someone else, someone whose name is written across his skin, whose soul is tied with his. Someone real.
He is far too hot.
“Spike?” Varric answers.
Angry voices catch his ear.
They don’t belong to the Seeker or Dorian.
“Shit,” Varric says.
Adora’s staff blooms with light. She squares her feet. Varric unholsters Bianca. A quick glance behind him shows nothing but rolling hills, grass slowly dying in the unrelenting sun. They have outpaced Dorian and the Seeker.
A lot of things happen at once. Adora unleashes a bolt of lightning. Burnt air is thick in Varric’s mouth. The first Templar turns the corner, phasing in and out of existence as he goes. His body is grotesque, distended by red lyrium. Jutting blood red crystals pierce his skin. Three more men, gaunt and red eyed, stagger behind him. Varric plants a crossbow bolt square in the chest of one. It barely slows the man down. Instead the man fixes his hollow red gaze on Varric, and disappears.
“Go left!” Adora shouts. Magic crackles around her.
Despite her warning, lightning ripples over his head. He’s moving too slowly, reactions dulled by the closeness of the air. Varric takes a breath, ratchets another bolt into readiness, and raises Bianca. He can do this. He can hold out until Dorian and the Seeker catch up.
The song calls to him. Sweet and low and promising. It promises so much. He can hear the lyrium beating along with his heart.
A bright, sharp chill cuts across his shoulder. Varric jerks away in time to keep his head. The Templar takes an unsteady step. Crossbow bolts sprout from his chest. The Templar takes another step. Stops. Varric shoots him again. It takes an age for the man to fall, for the red light to leave his eyes.
A familiar battle cry sears the air.
Blood sluices down Varric’s shoulder. Red lyrium sings. Cassandra smashes into an unsuspecting Templar. The noise of metal clashing echoes in his ears. It is too damn hot out. Varric’s head pounds. His mouth is dry and gluey.
Maker’s ass he’s happy to see Cassandra.
She and Adora fling themselves against the massive Behemoth, a cacophony of screams and metal and the smell of burning. Beneath it all, the song.
Varric staggers back, tries to gain some distance from the main melee. A straggling Templar shudders, body twitching and contorting as red lyrium breaks free from the thin sheath of his skin. It is disgusting. Varric watches, transfixed. Sluggish blood drips from the wounds caused by the lyrium crystals, slides over the man’s skin like syrup. The Templar’s head snaps to a strange angle, crystals jutting out of his neck. Crystals grow out of him, already replacing his left arm.
One of Varric’s bolts glances off the cluster of crystals growing from the man’s chest. Reality jitters. One moment the Templar is safely out of range, the next Varric’s stumbling over his own feet, dagger raised to parry the sharp edge of the Templar’s crystalline arm.
“Not good,” Varric grunts out.
His knife squeals against the Templar’s arm. With a silent apology, Varric slams Bianca into the Templar’s midsection. It can’t be good for her mechanisms, but being impaled isn’t good for his mechanisms. He flings himself away, just missing the Templar’s flailing arms. The exposed collar of his tunic catches on a rough shard of lyrium, and tears.
“Varric!” Cassandra’s voice drowns out the battle, the lyrium song.
The Templar groans, gibbering some nonsense with what’s left of its humanity. Cassandra’s mace smashes into the monster’s skull. Varric gags at the sucking sound as Cassandra yanks it free from the pulped mess atop the former Templar’s shoulders.
It is too much.
Varric’s hands fumble at the buckles on his breastplate. He needs it off, needs to feel cool air against his skin. He pulls, yanks until he hears something tear. The breastplate peels away from him, clattering to the ground. Behind him, there’s a gasp.
“Sparkler, I’m not going to pose for a picture so look your fill,” Varric says into the strangled silence.
A cool breeze kisses his bare shoulders.
“Cassandra? Dorian? Is Varric all-” Adora says, breathless. She chokes back the last word.
“Cassandra-” Dorian says. He sounds horrified.
Shattering crystal drowns out the rest of Dorian’s sentence. Varric rolls onto his back in time to see Cassandra storm off, her mace embedded in the dead Templar’s chest.
Adora looks down at him, her eyes shock-wide, her face pale beneath the blood and dirt. Dorian’s hand his pressed over his mouth.
“You’re soulmates,” Adora says. “You...and Cassandra?”
Her voice shakes. Varric stares at her blankly. His discarded armour lies at his feet, bloodstained and battered. Half his shirt stuck to the inside.
“Yes,” Varric says. There isn’t anything else he can say.
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