#i hope to force myself to paint a few more things in the coming days if i can manage to. always too many ideas and not enough energy

[eithernich]

#made a small low committal oil painting last night kind of as a test to get myself to do Anything while in the deathlike state i've been in #was miserable the entire time mostly due to my brushes shedding the lamp being too bright and my rickety desk not having enough space on it #and due to not having the right brain chemicals to not feel miserable no matter what i do...... but i like the painting. looking at it now #might scan and post eventually but it's oil so it's still wet #i love oil paints because they take so long to dry so you can keep pushing and pulling things around on the canvas to your heart's content #for a day or two at least #i hope to force myself to paint a few more things in the coming days if i can manage to. always too many ideas and not enough energy #and that good for nothin rickety desk

[colleendoran]

How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

#snow glass apples #chivalry #neil gaiman #drawing

[coco-loco-nut]

We Can’t Be Friends

Pairing: George Russel x Reader

Summary: George’s girlfriend, a former child actor, is not well liked by the public

TW: mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, implied child exploitation

A/n: going off of the more popular interpretation of the song (ari vs the public)

requests open!🫶 masterlist

———————

You just finished filming a short interview in a docuseries with some of your former colleagues, those who fell into the same trap and downfall as you did. You prefer not to air everything out, but you knew your statement would support the others.

The industry basically forced you into a drug and alcohol addiction, one that you thankfully beat, but you went from someone who was once loved to someone hated, just from how the media spun your name.

You met George at a hospital event -you now work as a biochemist and bioengineer- and he immediately recognized his childhood crush. You dated for a year before feeling strong enough to go public, but ever since he posted a very cute picture of you, the hate has started again.

“I’ll make a statement asking them to leave you alone,” George offers but you shake your head no. He hates seeing you upset, but both of you didn’t expect the backlash on you.

“They won’t understand, they could never even try. They will never know what it was like to grow up like that, even the docuseries won’t help,” you start to dismiss the thought.

“We can’t do nothing,” he tries to reason, wanting to protect you.

“I don’t want to tiptoe around the public, but I don’t want to hide, either way I’m feeding this fire,” you groan, running your hand through your hair as you pace the room. You had to call off of work today, the entrance to your townhome being blocked by paparazzi.

“The story is gonna die, and we’ll be alright,” George stands up and pulls you into a hug. In your mind you picture the public liking you again, waiting for their love again.

A few days later, George drags you out of the house for lunch, you had only been leaving for work. The two of you step out, a reporter immediately coming up to you. You ignore the first few, sitting in your silence.

“It’s just me and you, Baby girl,” George whispers to you, supporting you however you choose to respond.

“Y/n, is it true that you have been in and out of rehab for the past year? You are in and out of hospitals,” one reporter, who always hounds you, asks causing you to whirl around. You don’t want to argue, but you don’t want to bite, so you choose a confusing answer.

“You’ve got me misunderstood, but at least I look this good,” you smirk, watching their face scrunch in confusion, gripping their paper and pen, before continuing your walk.

The next day a clip of one of your short interviews drops, taken while you were in college, as a trailer for the docuseries release the following week.

~-~-~-

I don’t like how this industry painted me, but I’m still here hanging, just not what they made me. It’s almost like a daydream sometimes, finally leaving that world. I feel so seen, I am everything that I defined myself as, not all that the industry made me be. My truth and I may always sit in silence, but one day I hope I am brave enough to say it out loud. For now, it’s only me on the road after recovery, but maybe that’s all I need.

~-~-~-

buzzfeed.com/uk

A list of every child actor we need to apologize to after watching “Drugged: The Truth Behind the Lives of Child Actors”

1. Y/n Y/l/n

~-~-~-

“Are you sure you want to go out there?” George asks, looking at the crowds of journalists. You nod, tired of being silent and waiting for things to be better, not caring about feeding the fire anymore.

“Let’s go,” you release a shaky breath, stepping out behind your boyfriend as he walks you to work.

“Y/n! Anything to comment regarding the documentary that’s been released and the allegations made by your former colleagues?” A journalist asks, the rest hoarding, pens at the ready.

“Actually, I do. You owe us an apology. Villainizing children who needed someone like you to expose how awful our working conditions were, that’s sick and cruel. You wrote lies about us, and instead of apologizing, you want to ask us for statements and exploit our names more? You’re sick. We can’t be friends,” you chem them out before continuing on your way to work. A part of you will always wait for their love, but you are tired of waiting for them to like you.

“You’re a badass. I hope they will see you are the biochemist and bioengineer, not the child actor. You’ve come so far and I’m so proud,” George says once your breathing steadies from the adrenaline.

“Thank you, Georgie,” a small part of you wants to flip them off behind you, just like you would’ve done ten years ago, but you don’t, finally moving forward.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #george russell #george russel x reader #george russel imagine #george russel imagines #ariana grande

[laangdonn]

not anymore pt2

summary: y/n tries growing in her grief at hilltop.

pairing: carl grimes x female reader

a/n: ya’llllllll thank you so much for loving the first part!!! i’d actually written pt1 a year ago and never rlly planned to ever make a pt2 but ask and you shall receive lolol, hope you like!!

*read part 1 here*

*************************

“todays the day rick n carl should be gettin here,” maggie said, sending a spoon with tomato soup into her mouth, “you ready to see him?”

i released a shaky breath, playing with my own bowl of food as my starved appetite vanished. i stared at the red, swirling liquid. “i don’t know.”

“a month wasn’t enough time apart?” she asked, eyeing me cautiously.

i hadn’t wanted to repeat myself, but i had no other answer. “i- i don’t know.”

it hadnt seemed like a month apart. i would’ve sworn it had been yesterday i walked out of alexandria alone, two duffel bags in my hand and a gun, ready to fend off anything or anyone that crossed my path.

but it had been a month, the longest we’d ever been apart. and i missed him more than anything.

it still didn’t shake my hesitancy, my worry that the moment we spend time alone we’ll go back to disagreements and fighting and perhaps, i’d never go back to alexandria again. and that’ll be the end of us. till one of dies and the other is forced to reconcile the fact that we’d never made up.

it scared me to see him. to see death again.

“well,” maggie swallowed again, her short hair bristling in the chilly air from the open window, “i think when you see him, that’s when you’ll really know.”

i nodded slowly, my eyes still trained on my soup.

she stood up out of the chair, “i need to find greg, talk to him ‘bout a few things.” she eyed me again, noticing my static, unmoving position. “you’ll be alright while i’m gone?”

i looked up at her then, not wanting her to worry, “i’ll be fine, mags.”

she gave me a small, reassuring smile and a kiss on the crown of my head before she went off, and i was left in my thoughts.

luckily, maggie’s trailer provided a lot of privacy, and knowing the tenants at hilltop, i wouldn’t be disturbed.

i stared off to a chip in the paint, thinking.

——

“i can come with you.”

“carl-“

“why can’t i just take you to hilltop and leave?”

“because, carl, don’t-“

“it’s dangerous, y/n, and reckless-“

“carl-“

“and stupid-“

“would you stop interrupting me!”

he went quiet then, his burly arms crossed over his flannel chest, eye staring daggers into my figure.

we stood by the door to our house, two duffel bags leaning against the wall i so desperately wanted to pick up and run out.

i knew despite him saying he wouldn’t stop me going, it wouldn’t eliminate the imminent last ditch effort fight from occurring.

“you told me you’d let me go.” i said slowly, as if reprimanding a child, “don’t go back on your word.”

he rolled his eyes, “god forbid i don’t want you out there by yourself! have my dad take you for fucks sake just don’t-“ he pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling stressfully, “don’t go by yourself.”

“i can take care of myself, carl.” i spat, feeling anger surge through me at his distrust in me. “i’ve survived this long.”

“you never know what can happen out there.” he threw his hands up, “or here! yesterday, that dick’s gun was to your head in this fucking room!”

i felt his rage, i voiced his yells. it made my head spiral that i were still trapped in alexandria, suffocating in this broken reflection of my relationship that could barely withstand some independence.

but, bringing myself to reality, i also knew his fear, knew the dread at the unknown. knew the loss he was experiencing even while i was still standing in front of him, alive and breathing.

i shuddered out a breath, walking over to him to put my hands sturdily on his shoulders.

i looked up at him, watching his anger dissipate when we locked eyes.

“i know you’re scared for me,” i said softly, talking quickly before he’d have a chance, “but i need you to trust me.”

“y/n-“

“no,” i put my finger to his soft lips, “let me finish.”

i brought my hand down, his eye watching my finger fall from his flesh.

“i’ll send a letter the second i get to hilltop, so you know i’m safe,” i swallowed, “i’ll have my gun loaded and extra ammo, anything i could scavenge up from the armory.”

his eyebrow relaxed, listening to me talk.

“this is what we’re made for now,” i shook him a bit and sent him a weary smile to ease his tension, “we’re made to do these things on our own.”

he exhaled shakily, nodding to fool himself into thinking he’d allow this, that he’d watch me walk away from him into trees of undead and alive.

i leaned up to his face, our noses brushing every so slightly. my heart boomed in my chest, beating so hard i swore he could hear it himself. maybe it was both of our hearts, desperate to intertwine again.

“do you trust me?” i whispered softly, so our lips grazed.

i heard him swallow, and the breath from his nose fan my face.

“yeah,”

i pulled back at that, knowing if we kissed, for the first time since…, i knew i’d lose the battle to my heart and stay.

i grabbed the two duffel bags and locked my palm around the doorknob.

looking over my shoulder, i sent a reassuring smile, “i’ll see you when we’re okay.”

he didn’t respond, and while it sent a jolt to my gut of disappointment and guilt, i turned back and opened the door.

“y/n,” i heard him say, just as i left.

i barely looked over my shoulder.

“i love you.”

i bit my lip, finally, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

“i love you, too.”

and the door shut.

——

crossing the lines to hilltop and realizing who i’d be seeing almost sent me running the other direction.

fear of maggie’s state of being gave me a headache as i drew closer to the entrance, and once i was close enough in view, could see her faint outline on a lookout post illuminated by the bright sun behind her.

i knew she saw me when i heard a voice scream my name.

she disappeared from the post and soon the large, wooden doors opened. i ran the rest of the way, dropping my bags and falling tiredly into her expectant arms.

as much as i told myself i’d stay strong for her, the smell of her hair and the memories of that night came sweeping back and i sobbed, wet and noisily, into her chest that shook with her own cries.

i didn’t realize we’d fallen to the floor till i felt my exposed knees sting from skimming the rough dirt.

“what-“ she sniffled, a sob breaking through her, “what are you doing here?”

i took a shaky breath in, trying to compose myself, “i came to see you.”

she frowned, burying her face back into my shoulder.

we cried a few more moments, let ourselves drown in glenn’s absence, in front of all the onlookers who just watched silently.

i pulled back, dread creeping into my stomach when i looked at maggie’s

“the-“ i swallowed, “the baby-“

“fine,” she answered quickly, stroking tears off my cheeks and sending me a faint smile, “just fine.”

i breathed a sigh of relief, nodding at the scarce good news before standing and helping her up, too.

she looked healthier than the last time i saw her, fatter in her face and her arms. her stomach barely bulged as a reminder a part of glenn resided there.

behind her i saw sasha standing, her arms folded. even from far away, i could tell she just looked even worse, instead of better.

i sent her my best sympathetic smile, receiving one back but knowing deep down, it was just another lie to comfort me.

i looked to maggie, gripping her forearms, “take me to him.”

seeing glenn’s grave, surprisingly, comforted me more than disturbed me. to know we had him, safe under dirt and bugs, but still, safe. better than laying out in the gravel, for prying, evil eyes to view him.

he was returned back to us in less than one piece, but his soul was whole with us.

i held maggie’s hand as we looked down, a few flowers resting over the raised patch of dirt.

i swallowed harshly, “what would he think now?”

“of what?” she asked softly, our eyes never wavering from the ground.

“of carl and i. of what’s been destroyed.”

i felt her squeeze my hand, “you and carl aren’t destroyed.”

i shook my head, feeling tears blur my vision and my nose sting.

she continued, “you’re right for the time apart, to grieve separately if that’s what you need.”

“is it enough?” i asked brokenly, finally looking at her.

she gestured our intertwined hands to glenn’s grave.

“ask him.”

and so i did.

i spoke to glenn’s grave everyday. sometimes scattered stories of our memories, from the prison, from on the road. sometimes i cried so hard i couldn’t breathe under the empty dusk, sometimes i laughed so hard my stomach hurt. sometimes i sat in silence.

but mostly i talked about carl.

——

if i stared hard enough at that paint chip, i could’ve sworn the wall tore a bit more right before my eyes.

i knew who i had to see, to remind me this absence was for something, that i’d grown in my grief.

my feet carried me to his grave, hidden away behind maggie’s trailer. i sat down comfortably in front of it, hugging my knees to my chest.

“are we okay?” i whispered to the air. “will i see you in him?”

“was all of this for nothing? will it always be this way, glenn?” i wiped my hand over my nose.

i let out a shaky breath at the thought, “can we overcome this?”

“yes.”

my head whipped around, and i saw carl, standing with his arms at his sides, tears filling up his ocean eye.

it gave me whiplash how fast i stood up and launched myself into his unexpecting arms. they rested limp for a moment, but quickly moved to hug my torso tightly, lifting my feet slightly off the grass as i wedged my head between his neck.

we pulled back slightly to stare at each other, and i searched his face for the blood, for the black line, for the axe.

i smiled softly when i realized all i saw were glenn’s memories.

happy memories, of the hot days at the prison when we sweat so hard playing tag, of playing a dusty board game in alexandria the first night when we were too hesitant to sleep, of watching his love with maggie and seeing it reflected in carl and i.

“why’re you smiling?” he whispered, his own face pulling to reveal a grin. he knew.

i leaned in closer, tipping his sheriffs hat up so our noses could brush.

“because i don’t see it, not anymore.” i finally let our lips touch, a kiss that sent flames bursting in my stomach and my fingers to shake with anticipation.

he leaned into the kiss, and i felt the breath on my face at his sigh of relief.

i knew he knew what i meant when i saw the tiny twinkle in his eyes reappear looking at me, knowing he felt the same.

i pulled back ever too quickly, evident in how he leaned in again.

but before i gave him the chance to kiss me again, i let my smile burst through.

we all had a long way to go, people to kill and more people to lose, but in this moment, right in this moment:

“i see you now.” i said.

and that was enough.

#carl grimes angst #carl grimes #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes fluff #twd #the walking dead #maggie greene #maggie rhee #twd angst #glenn rhee #carl grimes one shot #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x fem!reader #twd season 7 #twd carl

[bvidzsoo]

Nowhere we won’t go

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warning: violence, murder, blood, some swearing

 Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

 Word count: 27, 401

 Summary:  Life had mysterious ways of working, and it took you off guard when you lost your best friend to a ruthless criminal. No one knew who did it, the whole town was in terror. However, it didn’t stop there, more people were dying and your suspicions of the murderer started raising. Could it really be your boyfriend?

 A/N: Hiii lovelies! I’m back from the dead lol. College always takes a tool on me, so I barely have inspiration to write nowadays. I watched Scream lol and this oneshot came into fruition. Ofc it’s heavily inspired by the movie so don’t come at me, but I tried to be original still. I might be a little rusty crusty dusty, but I hope it’s not that noticeable. Please leave feedback, you know I love it and I hope everyone enjoys this! Happy reading!

           This morning wasn’t any different compared to other mornings. The sun was slowly rising, beaming down on our little borough and letting its rays spread some well needed warmth as autumn has approached, coating the town in a grey fog as a result of daily rain. I missed the summer days, when the temperatures were high and I was carefree and able to spend my time doing what I liked. School takes up a large amount of effort and energy, and sometimes, I’m drained by the end of the day. I am conscious that going to school is crucial as it’s supposed to educate us and develop us into mature and smart young adults, ready to pursue our dreams and goals once we’re out of high-school, but most of times it’s just a buzzkill. The teachers are always dull and mean to us, as if they hate us for being in their classes, and most things we learn seem useless once we have stepped out into the real world. I like studying, but I am not desperate, and find myself spending my time doing something else quite often. This has always been an issue with my mom, as she’s a hardworking nurse and stern woman, only expecting and accepting perfection. But we got past our differences a few years ago and now, if I get good grades, she allows me to do whatever I like on the weekends. When I was young, I was supposed to attend various activities which my mother enjoyed while she was young, like: swimming and ballet classes. I have always hated ballet; it gave me bad ankle and toe aches making me unable to get out of bed on some lamentable days. But my mother wouldn’t accept my whining and forced me to continue ballet, only allowing me to stop when I told her I had no interest in being a ballerina. That was three years ago. Mom was quite disappointed but when I told her I wanted to take up some drawing and painting classes, reluctantly, but at last she agreed. Now, I can see myself being an artist, attending a prestige arts college. I only have to convince my mother at this point to oblige to my wish. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, but I’ve still got two years to come up with a good solution. Perhaps if Wonwoo and I can go to the same college she’ll let me be. Wonwoo, my boyfriend, is someone who my mother adores. She’s loved him from the very first moment they have met. He’s soft spoken and kind, a little withdrawn, but nonetheless friendly once he opens up to you. We’ve known each other since we were kids as we’ve been living on the same street for our whole lives, but our romance only began in high-school, last year. It took us some time to mature and notice each other finally, but when it happened, I couldn’t have been happier. He was so attentive to me, always listening closely to what I had to say. He made me laugh and smile, sometimes even without trying to, and filled my heart with warmth I didn’t know was even possible. I found a confidant and friend in him, someone whom I could love freely and carelessly, never doubtful or uncertain of his intentions. Wonwoo was direct and honest from the get go and it made me like him even more. We had our ups and downs, just as any couple, but managed to work them out and move forward as a stronger couple. He had moments when I couldn’t understand him, questioning whether I was imagining his lack of empathy or he really lacked of it, but never thought too hard about it. After all, both of us were enamored with each other, living under our pink cloud as any newly formed couple.

I had dressed up after waking up, realizing I needed to hurry up if I wanted to catch the bus, mom had a nightshift and wouldn’t be driving me to school today. I could smell bacon and eggs wafting through the downstairs as I descended the stairs, headed for the kitchen. My mother was still in her nurse uniform, her blonde hair pulled in a tight bun as she placed the fried bacon on a plate next to the already done eggs.

“Good morning, mom.” I greeted her with a smile and she turned around, dark bags under her eyes as she returned a smile.

“Good morning, slept well?” She asked as she handed me the plate which I took eagerly. I didn’t have dinner last night as I was too lazy to cook something and my stomach was screaming at me right now to fill it with something.

“Yes, although the storm did wake me up…” I trailed off as mom hummed, sipping some orange juice as she sat down opposite of me.

“It was quite bad; the wind tore a few trees out around the hospital.” She said and I hummed in surprise, not having thought the storm was actually that bad. My mom looked behind me with furrowed eyebrows as she quickly went to grab the remote control. I was just chewing on my breakfast as she turned the volume up of the TV behind me, making me turn around to see what has caused such interest in my mom suddenly. However, the words of the reporter made me drop my fork.

“Breaking News.” Her voice was loud and clear, eyebrows furrowed as she stood in front of a white house, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Trees getting torn out of the ground during last night’s storm wasn’t the only unfortunate thing to happen. It has come to our attention, that a beloved citizen of our serene city has been murdered in cold blood last night during the storm. Her name is Myoi Mina and she was a student at Primrose High-School. Not much is known as of now about her death, the police are still investigating the crime scene, however, I managed to find out before going live, that she’d been stabbed in the chest three times and suffered a fatal trauma to her head. I offer my sincere condolences to everyone who knew her. Stay tuned for more news about the terrific death of Myoi Mina, a bright girl who will never be forgotten. I am Park Sooyoung and you’ve been watching Prime News.”

For a second the world went quiet around me as I continued staring at the TV with my mouth open in shock. If it weren’t for my mother calling out my name, I probably would have stayed longer in that trance.

“Honey!” Her voice rose an octave and suddenly I felt her gripping my hand, eyes searching mine.

“Mom—” I managed to whisper as she pulled me into a hug, offering me support. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Mina…dead? How is that possible? Who would do that to her? We weren’t friends, but as we go to the same high-school we’ve known each other. She was always bright, and friendly, just as the reporter has said. Who would want to take away her life? When she was so innocent—oh, poor Wonwoo. If I was this affected by the news, I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. They had been exes and despite a tumultuous relationship, they managed to figure things out and stay somewhat friendly with each other after their breakup. Still, she was a person he once had loved and I would totally understand if he needed time to sort his thoughts out.

“Honey, are you alright?” My mom whispered and I lightly nodded, pulling away from the hug. I wasn’t very alright, confusion and fear meshing together, but I needed to stay strong. For Wonwoo, probably.

“Yes, just very…shocked.” I answered mom and she nodded; eyebrows downturned as she understood my feelings.

“It’s going to be fine. The one responsible for this will be found and held responsible for their actions, don’t be afraid.” Mom tried to cheer me up and offer some security, but it didn’t do much. However, I did appreciate her attempt.

“You’re right.” I tried to give her a smile, but I wasn’t able to.

“Let me drive you to school today—”

“No, don’t worry! I am fine, really. You look very tired, just go get some sleep. The bus is coming in five minutes.” I reassured her and got up from my seat, appetite gone as I quickly filled my water bottle with some orange juice.

“You’re sure?” Mom raised her eyebrows and I nodded, going up to her and kissing her cheek.

“Go rest, mom.” She hummed and patted my head before I hurried into the hallway to pull on my shoes and take on my coat. I opened the front door and took my keys, locking it once I was out of the house. Just as I walked down my porch the bus approached and I got on it, noticing the silence and somber faces of the rest of the students on it. Today was a grey day and nobody could deny it.

           My first task after getting off the bus was to find Wonwoo and check up on him. I kept biting my lip nervously as I looked around the halls, even going up to his locker. He was nowhere to be found and it made me even more nervous. I walked up to his classroom and peeked inside, but his usual seat was empty, not even his bag was there yet. Classes would start in ten minutes and I was panicking, about to grab my phone to call him, when I realized I hadn’t checked one place yet. The spot designated for the students to park their bikes and motorbikes. Of course he’d be there, why hadn’t I thought about that earlier?!

I ran down the hallways and finally exited the school, beelining it for the parking lot. Nobody was laughing this morning, people whispering amongst them, some even crying. Mina’s closest friends weren’t even seen at school, I understood why. I greeted a classmate of mine in a rush as I passed by him, he had just gotten out of his car and was taken aback by my presence, but by the time he greeted me back I was already facing the motorbikes parked in the corner. And there he was, Wonwoo, dressed in all black, his helmet in his hands as he got off his bike. His black hair was badly ruffled as he hadn’t run his fingers through his hair yet, and I suddenly took off, running towards my boyfriend. He had placed the helmet where he was sitting just seconds ago when I crashed into his back, hugging him from behind. I rested my cheek against his shoulder as I squeezed my arms tightly around his middle, making Wonwoo let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, there, sugar.” He chuckled and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Just as I pulled my head away from his shoulder he turned around in my embrace and hugged me back, just as strongly as I had hugged him. He was crushing me, but I didn’t care.

“Wonwoo—” I managed to mutter out as I wiggled out of his embrace, torso aching in certain spots, “Are you alright?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he ran his fingers through my short hair, resting his hand on my nape, “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

I became even more confused at Wonwoo’s words, searching his face for some sort of tell, but there was none, “Well…did you not hear?”

I decided to feel around, scared that I had to be the one to tell him. It would break me seeing him in pain.

“Hear what?” Wonwoo asked confused, his thumb rubbing my jugular, it was slightly distracting.

“Oh, well—” I cleared my throat and licked my lips, “Mina—”

“Oh, that.” Wonwoo muttered and looked down, his grip slightly tightening on my nape, but I said nothing as I watched his expression. He seemed unphased almost, like he wanted to look sad but it wasn’t working. My eyebrows furrowed when Wonwoo sniffed, yet there were no tears in his eyes. He clearly wasn’t alright, and I felt horrible for even reminding him of her death.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you sorry, did you kill her?” He suddenly looked up and his sharp eyes were piercing into mine, and I suddenly stuttered before shutting my lips. What? He looked so…cold. As if he didn’t care at all.

“No, I just—”

“Y/N,” He grabbed both of my cheeks with his hands and pulled me into him, our foreheads almost touching, “You are the love of my life and whatever happened to Mina…she had it coming.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Wonwoo with even more confusion. He didn’t actually mean that, right? How could he…he cared for her once.

“She was murdered, Wonwoo.” I whispered; my voice almost trembling. Wonwoo sighed and swiftly kissed my forehead, but it didn’t reassure me like it usually did, no, it made a chill run down my spine.

“I know, but she cheated on me multiple times, sugar, I do not care what has happened to her.” Wonwoo’s voice was sinister, almost gloating if I hadn’t known him better, “But she deserves it.”

My mouth opened in a gasp as I shook my head, refusing to comprehend the words which were leaving his lips, but also shocked and trying to process what he could really mean by saying that. But before I could voice my thoughts, his warm lips were pressing against mine softly, our noses touching. His was cold as it was really windy outside and I pulled back from the kiss, opening my eyes to gaze into his. I couldn’t read what he was feeling, his face expressionless and somehow so cold.

“I love you.” Wonwoo muttered before he let go of me and stepped back, grabbing his helmet off his motorbike. I watched him as he grabbed his backpack as well, trying to go over what has happened in the last few minutes, realizing this was just probably Wonwoo’s way of processing the traumatic news of last night’s happening. I knew deep down he was feeling miserable, he just didn’t want to show it in order to not worry me even more. I felt sympathetic for him and as he looked at me, it shocked me how much hatred was behind his irises, but it was gone just as quickly as it came, and it made me wonder if I had started seeing things. The news must be affecting me real bad if I couldn’t decide anymore what my boyfriend’s reactions meant.

           Today was grim. Everyone’s mood was bad and students almost whispered to each other despite it being our long break. Myoi Mina’s death has affected all of us, it was obvious. Everyone seemed to hold some sadness in their eyes and somehow they seemed to be more sympathetic towards fellow students. Even the teachers tried to be nicer to us. An hour ago we held a memorial for Myoi Mina at the football field of our high-school and once we were dismissed we quickly hurried back to our classrooms as the wind started picking up once again. The weather seemed to worsen as we reached noon and currently we were bundled up in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy our lunches. However, I found it rather hard to swallow the mashed potatoes as I overheard the girls next to our table talking about Mina’s brutal murder. I found the topic insensible and rude to talk about, especially since they seemed to be giggling about it from time to time, wondering whether the criminal looked hot or not. Kim Yerim, my best friend, seemed to have had enough as well as she slammed her fork down against the table, the loud sound catching those girls’ attention.

“Listen here, insensible cunts, if you want to gossip about that poor girl’s terrible death and fantasize about a murderer, go do it in your bedrooms and not in the cafeteria where everyone can hear you and realize just how fucking stupid you are!” Yerim’s words were harsh, always having been a brutally honest person, and it caught the attention of a few more students around us who seemed to be agreeing with her as they shot nasty glares at the gossiping girls. They seemed to be offended and one even gasped as she stood up, causing an unnecessary scene.

“How dare you call us—insensible cunts?!” Her voice rose and Yeri scoffed, giving her an amused grin.

“I was merely telling the truth, sweetheart.” Yerim answered back and I turned my head to look at the girl who was very pathetically gasping for air.

“I think everyone around us knows by now that you just want your five-minute fame, so settle down before you embarrass yourself furthermore.” I spoke up, trying to ease up the tension, but I figured I only did worse by saying that. The girl’s friend gasped loudly and both were standing up now, looking down at Yerim and I as if we were some monsters.

“Look who’s talking about fame, Y/N.” The second friend, who was blonde and had a pixie cut, looked at me maliciously, “Aren’t you the one dating Myoi Mina’s ex?”

Yerim and I glanced at each other, not understanding the correlation here, “I am, and so what about that?”

“Ah, look at her talk about fame,” The first one who caused this scene mocked, she had jet black eyes, “You’re acting as if you’re an angel when it’s because of you Wonwoo and Mina broke up. Did you know he cheated on her with you?”

I gulped, feeling the eyes of many students on me. This information was wrong, merely a gossip Mina spread around after she found out Wonwoo started going out with me out of jealousy. It didn’t last for long, the gossip, because a week later Mina and I talked and cleared things up. I held no harsh feelings against her and she apologized, realizing how foolish she was, and promised to make things right.

“That’s not true.” I said as I glared at the two girls, “Mina spread that rumor around out of jealousy—”

“Are you seriously bad-mouthing a dead person right now?!” The blonde one exclaimed in outrage and I couldn’t believe my ears. Suddenly I was the bad guy when I just wanted to protect someone who couldn’t do it anymore themselves. I could hear my ears ringing and my jaw clenched as I glared at the two. Yerim was just as appealed as I was and she slowly stood up, expression menacing.

“Look who’s playing the victim now.” Yerim chuckled and went around her chair, oh no, this was going to be bad. I stood up and grabbed my friend’s arm, knowing she’d get physical if no one was there to restrict her. Yerim always struggled with her anger issues, but when someone was disrespected she couldn’t help it, she saw red. I glanced around and gulped nervously, too many people were watching us now. And they were whispering too. I didn’t want this. Today out of all days this was so unnecessary.

“Yerim—” I spoke up, but before any of us could say anything else, Wonwoo and Soonyoung, his best friend, approached our table, each holding a tray full with food.

“What’s your problem, Hyuna?” Wonwoo snapped, blazing eyes glaring at the girl with the pixie cut, “Are you letting out your frustration on Y/N now that Mina’s gone? What? Are you going to beg me soon to leave Y/N for you?! Just like you did when I was dating Mina?”

My mouth fell open as Yerim and I looked at each other shocked, and even the students who were fully watching the commotion now, seemed surprised. The blonde one, Hyuna, turned red in the face and she gasped, looking at Wonwoo with her mouth gaping.

“That’s—that’s not—” She stuttered, shrinking under Wonwoo’s harsh glare, “That’s not what I was doing!”

“But you were speaking poorly of a dead girl.” Wonwoo said nonchalantly and Hyuna gulped as her friend took her hand and started pulling her away. I think they realized they have embarrassed themselves enough. Soonyoung started cackling as everyone watched the two girls basically run out of the cafeteria and he had the audacity to shout after them, “Look, Hyuna! I’m still available!”

His words elicited laughter from many students as they called Hyuna pathetic and everyone slowly went back to their lunch, Yerim and I long forgotten as we both sat down with Wonwoo and Soonyoung now having joined us. Wonwoo sat next to me and he kissed my cheek as I offered him a small smile, checking his face for any reaction. Perhaps a change of heart since the morning. But he still looked…fine, uncaring. Sooyoung, to Yerim’s dismay, sat next to her and she quietly sighed when he leaned close to her and whispered something, making her push his face away. Sooyoung giggled and I glanced at him, observing his attitude too. He looked like himself, as if Mina didn’t die, as if Mina and him didn’t even know each other.

“How are you feeling, Soonyoung?” I found myself asking my boyfriend’s best friend, curious.

Soonyoung looked up just as he stuffed his face with a chicken wing and grinned, “Quite well, thank you!”

Wonwoo cleared his throat next to me and I glanced at him briefly, but he was staring at Soonyoung quite coldly, “Oh—I mean, quite well despite the shocking news…I mean, how terrible, isn’t it?”

Yerim glanced at Wonwoo before she looked at Soonyoung and her eyes narrowed at the blonde, “At least you could try sounding more genuine next time, Soonyoung.” She emphasized his name as she gave him a glare. Yerim has never been fond of Soonyoung, she found him obnoxious, loud, dumb and overbearing. Despite Soonyoung’s efforts to get her to like him, she refused to spend any time with him if Wonwoo and I weren’t there.

“Yeah, you knew her quite well…” I found myself mumbling to no one in particular as I ate my lunch, but it seemed like everyone from our table heard me. Yerim nodded along. It was weird seeing the two boys so uncaring towards Myoi Mina’s death, after all, Soonyoung was the one who introduced Mina to Wonwoo.

“Oh, come on.” Soonyoung scoffed and leaned back in his seat, an irritated smirk crossing his lips, “That bitch whined all the time if something didn’t go her way. She didn’t let anyone breathe around her unless they first pleased her and my God—if Wonwoo wasn’t with her it was the end of the world, and if Wonwoo was there—why was he showing her no affection?!”

Wonwoo placed his fork down and placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward and placing his chin on his knuckles, “Thank you for you input, Soonyoung, although I’d like to enjoy my lunch without hearing about my ex-girlfriend’s death…again.”

It was the most emotion Wonwoo had shown all day and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it and offering him a small smile. He looked at me, seemingly still pissed off at Soonyoung, but offered me a small smile back. Yerim was silent as she watched the two boys before shaking her head and taking a sip from her glass of water. I knew how she felt about them, she never liked them too much, but they were good boys. A bit odd, but well-intended.

“Fine,” Soonyoung muttered displeased as he took another chicken wing, eyeing Yerim from the corner of his eyes, “but the bitch deserved it.”

“Excuse me?!” It was Yerim who was appealed this time, her reaction being the same as mine when Wonwoo said it. She just reacted stronger than I had. I was quite speechless, she rarely was.

“Nothing.” Soonyoung smiled sweetly at my best friend and I could feel my heartbeat pick up when Wonwoo’s tongue poked his cheek from the inside of his mouth, a clear sign he was getting angry. I looked at him, but he was glaring daggers at Soonyoung. Thinking quickly, I looked down at his plate and touched his thigh, trying to get his attention.

“You don’t like chicken wings,” I said with a smile as I pointed at my plate, “You can take my fried cheese.”

Wonwoo’s attention was back on me and his eyebrows furrowed, “You don’t look chicken wings either—”

“Don’t worry, I’m full already.” I smiled, I wasn’t full, in fact. But they were probably out of fried cheese and Wonwoo was quite particular about what he ate. I didn’t want him to be hungry until we got home.

“How sweet,” Soonyoung cooed from the other end of the table and both Wonwoo and I glanced at him, “She’s so caring, Won, don’t you just love her?”

He sounded quite mocking and I sighed, starting to get fed up with Soonyoung. I had no idea what his problem was today, but I didn’t enjoy being around him anymore. Wonwoo sensed my discomfort and shook his head at Soonyoung.

“Yes, I love her.” Soonyoung grinned widely and chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at Yerim and reached out for her hand, but she quickly took it off the table and gave him a glare.

“Don’t you want us to be sweet like them?” Soonyoung blinked cutely at Yerim, leaning closer to her, “How about—we go out on a date tonight?”

“Soonyoung,” Yerim scoffed and leaned closer, smirking at him, “For the nth time—no. I don’t like you and I will never date you. Stop being so fucking obnoxious all the time, thanks.”

Soonyoung tsked and shook his head, “You’re gonna get killed one day for talking like that to me.”

His words were barely audible but both Yerim and I caught it. Our heads whipped in his direction and he looked up innocently, blinking at us confusedly, “What?”

“Soonyoung, come to the wending machine.” Wonwoo abruptly stood up and smiled at his friend, however it didn’t reach his eyes, “Now.”

Wonwoo became demanding once Soonyoung made no sign of wanting to move and the blonde just sighed before getting up slowly, winking at Yerim before walking up to Wonwoo. Wonwoo swiftly grabbed his nape and pulled him away from us, making Soonyoung exclaim in annoyance. Yerim turned to look at me and I sighed, eating some more of my mashed potatoes.

“What is wrong with them?!” She whisper snapped as she watched me. I shrugged and ignored my friend, not wanting to think too deeply of what’s happened the past few minutes. Wonwoo was weird all day, but he’s been even weirder ever since they sat down to have lunch with us. Soonyoung’s words were even more unsettling and my head was a mess currently, I didn’t want Yerim questioning everything as well.

“Nothing.” I muttered back, head lowered as I tried to eat some more. Wonwoo took the fried cheese I gave him and I pushed the chicken wings to the side of my plate, I really hated them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/N.” Yerim snapped and grabbed my elbow, making me look at her, “Something is very wrong with Soonyoung and we both know it. He’s giving me the creeps now more than ever before. Did you hear the things he was saying about Mina? How is that alright? How could he even think them and then say them—”

“I don’t know.” I snapped, getting pissed, “And I don’t want to know. This whole situation scares me and I’m not taking it well, okay? Everyone is talking about it and it’s making me lose my mind. I’m scared, okay? Can you at least, please, just drop it?!”

Yerim looked down and released my elbow, feeling bad for bringing this up again. I had already told her in the morning how scared I was of this whole ordeal, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you more. I just noticed things and wanted to tell you, because Wonwoo’s been weird too. He has always been, but today out of all days…he’s too quiet.”

“Wonwoo’s always quiet.” I chuckled and Yerim rolled her eyes.

“Not like this, you know what I mean…” She deadpanned and I huffed, turning back towards my plate.

“Whatever, you’re just being paranoid.”

“I’d rather be paranoid than dead.” Yerim muttered and I groaned, nudging her leg with mine underneath the desk. She giggled and started stealing the chicken wings off my plate as she glanced back, “I’ll take these before Soonyoung gets back and asks for them.”

I giggled and nodded at her, offering her my whole plate. I wasn’t full, but my appetite was long gone. I just wanted to be close to Wonwoo right now.

           I pulled the curtain to the side as I peeked out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the strike of lightning. The weather was horrible once again. It’s been raining almost the whole week. Mina’s murder was still fresh in everyone’s minds and people were cautious. It’s been three days only, after all. Today was her funeral and it was really sad. Many people showed up, although I preferred to stand towards the back, Wonwoo went ahead and offered his condolences to her parents who burst out in tears once they saw him. It made me realize how well liked Wonwoo was by the parents and elders in our town. He truly had a good soul and it was hard not to love him. My mother was working the night shift again tonight and as I didn’t feel comfortable staying home alone yet, Yerim and I agreed to have a sleepover tonight, however, she was still at the pool. She was a professional swimmer and she’s been training hard for the past half year for the upcoming national competition her team was to attend. I watched as the lighting struck again and waited for Yerim to pick up as my phone continued ringing. There was a chance she was still in the water, but I was hoping she wasn’t. We were supposed to meet half an hour ago, but she was running late.

“Hi!” Suddenly Yerim picked up and I smiled, closing the curtain, “Sorry, coach extended today’s training.”

She sounded breathless, “I figured, don’t worry. I still have some things to pack; do you want me to pick up pizza on my way to you?”

“Oh, pizza!” Yerim giggled and I heard someone shouting in the background for her, “One second coach—I’m supposed to be on a diet, Y/N, but sure.”

“Okay, one pepperoni pizza it is, then.” We both giggled.

“Wait—wasn’t I supposed to pick you up though?” Yerim asked and I went to my closet to take out my pajamas.

“You were, but since you’re running late I’ll drive myself, don’t worry.” The pool was a bit further from my house and I knew she was usually tired after practices; I didn’t want to burden her more.

“Thank you! See you!” I greeted her back before Yerim hung up and I finished packing the essentials before dressing up in my comfy sweater. It was actually Wonwoo’s but he gave it to me after I told him I liked the fabric of it. His cologne still lingered on it and I smiled as I nuzzled my nose against the collar of the black sweater. When he’d come over, every once in a while, he’d bring his cologne with him and spray it on the sweaters which were once his, so that I could feel him close to me even if he wasn’t here. It was a sweet gesture and it still brought butterflies to my stomach. There was another lightning strike and the thunder followed instantly, making me yelp at the loud rumble of it. My cat meowed loudly from the hallway and I opened my door, beckoning her over with a pout. She hated storms just as much as I did.

“Come, Byeol, this weather is driving me crazy.” She meowed back as if she understood me and jumped into my arms once I kneeled down to hold her. She nuzzled her head against my chin and I giggled, starting to pet her. She was a black cat with light green eyes which sparkled like stars, hence her name, Byeol. Mom bought her for me five years ago when I started complaining about being scared when she’d have her night shifts. I hated staying home alone at night until I got Byeol. She brought a sense of security with her and it made me appreciate her even more.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone tonight, Byeol, you won’t be too mad at me, right?” I whispered at my cat as I played with her ears, she was purring loudly, “Mom will be back by five in the morning, so you won’t be staying alone for too long.”

Byeol meowed loudly and I chuckled kissing her head before placing her down on the floor gently and standing up to grab the charger of my phone, which I almost forgot to pack. I looked around the room and mentally checked off everything from my imaginary list of what I had to bring with myself to Yerim’s and picked up my backpack, making kissy faces at Byeol. She followed after me as I turned off the light in my room and walked down the hallway, headed for the stairs, when my phone suddenly started ringing. I looked down at the caller and saw Yerim was calling me, maybe she changed her mind about that peperoni pizza.

“Hi, Yerim—”

“Y/N!” Her voice was panicked and I stopped in my tracks, right at the top of the stairs, “Someone’s—following me!”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, this was out of character for Yerim, “What? I don’t understand—what’s happening?!”

“I’m at the pool—” There was a loud crash and Yerim gasped, “I’m scared—a masked man—they are following me—”

“Yerim, are you being serious?!” My heart picked up as I raced down the stairs, backpack long forgotten as Byeol looked at me confused.

“Yes!” She exclaimed and she started whimpering, making my hands tremble, “They have a knife, Y/N!”

I could barely pull on my tennis shoes when I heard her words, “Hide!”

“I’m in the locker room but I couldn’t find the keys—” There was a loud bang and a sob left Yerim’s lips, bringing tears to my eyes.

“I’m on my way, I’m calling the police—”

“Don’t hang up, please!” Yerim was crying and I was shaking so badly that I could barely grab my keys.

“Yerim, I have to—” I was cut off by Yerim’s scream.

“No! No, stop! Please!”

“Yerim!” I screamed as I slammed the front door shut and struggled to lock it. I sprinted towards my car, ignoring the cold raindrops crashing against the pavement and myself, “Yerim, are you there—”

But another scream cut me off and I started crying, feeling helpless as I listened to my friend’s painful sobs. Just as I reached my car and unlocked it, the line went dead and I panicked even more, hands trembling so hard I could barely dial 112.

“112 what’s your emergency—”

“Please, I think someone’s murdering my friend! She’s at the pool on Wellington’s street, nr. 18. Please! Help her!”

“Ma’am, calm down, can you tell us your name?” The woman on the other side of the phone tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t hear her words. I had to get to Yerim before it was too late. I had already started my car and was pulling out of the garage as I started rambling mindlessly about where Yerim was and that they had to get to her right now.

“Ma’am, calm down and tell us your name.” The woman tried again and I wiped my tears away as I speed down the streets.

“My name is not important! Get to my friend! Her name is Kim Yerim for fucks sake!” I screamed as I rushed past a red light, barely avoiding getting hit. I didn’t care what happened, I only had Yerim in mind, I had to get to her. No, this couldn’t be happening. She’s playing a sick prank on me, she must be. Otherwise…no. No. No. It’s not the murdered. No. They aren’t targeting her, she’s probably just playing around—I slammed on the brakes when I saw someone crossing the road, screaming at them to get the hell away as I started driving again.

“Ma’am, where are you right now?” Suddenly, I heard the woman’s voice through my phone, forgetting I hadn’t hung up.

“In the car, I have to get to my friend.”

“You can’t drive in the state you are—”

“What do you know about that!” I snapped and took a harsh left turn, realizing I was just two blocks away.

“Ma’am, officers are already at the scene, your friend is safe.” The woman tried to calm me down but I shook my head.

“I’ll believe that when I see her with my own eyes.” I reached over and hung up, pulling up to the building as the flashing lights of police cars blinded me for a second. I parked the car and got out without turning the engine off, uncaring of the rain which drenched me in seconds, as I ran towards two officers who were just getting out of their cars.

“My friend—where is she?!” I asked breathless, but they just looked at each other and I didn’t wait for their answers, I pushed past them and ran inside the building. There were more police officers and I saw the entrance to the pool being tapped off, and I instantly knew. Something inside my stomach dropped. I heard nothing and I saw nothing. I had to know. I couldn’t just stand there and wait for the news to be delivered to me. So when three police officers noticed me and demandingly told me I had to leave, I pushed past them and sprinted to the doors leading inside the pool. They were already opened, and I could see everything. The blood. All over the floor, coloring the water. And I could see her. Face down. Floating in the water. Her black hair sprawled out around her. Her favorite swimming suit still on. My ears were ringing and my heart was thumping so fast I started seeing black. I couldn’t hear anything. I felt cold hands gripping my arms, but I couldn’t move. It’s like I was there, but I wasn’t. My hearing only came back when I found myself screaming her name and trashing around in the firm hold of the officers, who were pulling me away from the scene.

“No! Stop!” I screamed, sobbing loudly as I tried to fight them off still, “That’s my best friend! I need to see her! I need to be there for her! Don’t you understand?!”

“Bring her to the ambulance, give her a sedative.” I heard one officer say and I started shaking my head as my body went slack and I could only cry.

“But Yerim—” Suddenly I felt myself being lifted in someone’s arms and I curled into the person, crying loudly.

“It will be alright, miss, cry as much as you need.” A man, with a comforting voice, said reassuringly as I was outside again, the rain still pouring hard. I felt us running until the rain wasn’t hitting me anymore and I was sat inside an ambulance.

“Please—” I whispered, grabbing the officer’s hand as he went to pull away, “Save her.”

I saw sorrow in his eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t, as if he understood something I refused to believe in, “We will try our best, miss. Can you promise me you’ll stay here?”

I nodded and wiped my tears away, but new ones came rushing down my cheeks. I was cold. My body was shaking. I hugged myself and curled up into a ball as I tried to comfort myself, but nothing could bring comfort right now. I started mumbling, it was okay. Everything was okay. That wasn’t Yerim. Yerim was playing a prank on me. Yerim was hiding in the locker room and laughing her ass off, because she loved drama and attention. Yes, that is what was happening.

“Miss—miss—” I jumped when someone touched me and I grumbled at them to stay away from me, “Can you tell me your name?”

I didn’t want to talk, but when they asked me again, I snapped at them, “Kang Y/N!”

“Thank you,” The lady had a very calm voice and I felt her touch me again but I pulled my arm away, once again, “Can you tell me how old you are?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” I snapped again, raising my voice, “You’re supposed to help my friend! Go help her!”

“I’m supposed to help you, Miss Kang—”

“No, because I’m fine—”

“Y/N?!” A familiar voice asked from behind the doctor lady and my eyebrows furrowed when I looked past her and came to see Soonyoung. Why was he here? What was he doing here?

“What?” I whispered confused, glancing back at the doctor who was preparing an injection and I started shaking again, “What are you doing with that?!”

The doctor said nothing as she sighed and walked closer, making Soonyoung protest as well, “Young man, stay out of this unless you want to be sedated as well.”

“Sedated?!” I exclaimed and went to stand up, but suddenly someone from behind held me down and I just realized I wasn’t sitting alone in the ambulance. I started trashing around, trying to free myself as the doctor was now standing right in front of me and I started crying once again when she started feeling around for my vein.

“Please go help my friend—” The doctor shushed me and I whimpered when the needle entered my skin, the doctor injecting the sedative inside my body.

“She’s in shock,” I heard her say as my muscles slowly started to loosen, as if they weren’t listening to me anymore, ��She started calming down but you triggered her again, I’m asking you to step back and let her be.”

I realized she was talking to Soonyoung as I was laid down on the stretcher inside the ambulance and the doctor checked my eyes before nodding at someone. I was covered by a blanket and I sniffed as I continued crying quietly, my body feeling numb all of a sudden.

“You should rest now; everything will be alright.” I heard someone saying to me as I felt my eyelids get heavy and I tried shaking my head and telling them that I needed to be next to Yerim, but my mouth wouldn’t move.

“Can you let me stay with her? I’m her friend, I also knew Yerim.” I heard Soonyoung saying before he climbed inside the ambulance. Knew Yerim? Why in past tense? Yerim was fine, what was he talking about? Why is he here?

“It’ll be fine, Y/N.” I felt a hand patting my wet hair as my mind was slowly losing consciousness, “Yerim was a strong girl, but too stubborn for her own good. I just couldn’t help it…”

Before my brain could comprehend Soonyoung’s words, everything became black and I fell into a state of unconsciousness. Did I lose my best friend?

           It was all so blurry. The past two weeks. Everything went by quickly, Yerim disappeared so suddenly. She was here, next to me, laughing and being excited about her up-coming tournament one moment, and the next…I watched her coffin being lowered into the cold, wet ground. I had no tears left to cry at her funeral, I could only watch with a blank stare as her coffin was slowly getting covered by the dirt, swallowing her forever, robbing her from me. I felt nothing. My skin was cold, I was shaking. It was a sunny day and everyone wore short sleeves, but I was wearing a long sleeve and a coat. I could hear the priest saying a prayer, Yerim’s mother weeping next to me and her husband gasping for air, but I couldn’t actually hear them. It was as if I was underwater. Yerim’s smiling framed picture, which I was clutching, was the only thing reminding me that I was at the funeral, present physically, but so far away mentally. Someone held my shoulder, but I couldn’t be bothered to check who it was, I just shook their touch off and stared blankly at Yerim’s tombstone. I read her name, her year of birth and day of death, and I broke. The priest had just finished talking, ceremony ended, when my body started shaking violently, sobs raking my whole being. My legs were weak, and my feet hurt from the high heels I only wore because Yerim loved them and complained I never wore them. The sun was suddenly so hot, the coat and long sleeve were suffocating me, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. Why did they kill her? What did she do? Why her? Why not me?! I knew my sobs turned into wailing and my feet gave up and suddenly, I was on my knees, clutching the framed picture to my chest and trying to find my breath, but my sobs wouldn’t let me. It hurt so much, my chest was in pain, it felt as if someone was trying to rip my heart out. Suddenly, I felt strong hands gripping me by the elbows as I was lifted up. My body was limp so I did not fight back when the person turned me around and cupped my cheeks. My mind was far gone from the present, from what was happening, but I’d recognize his hands anywhere, anytime. They were big, warm, and soft. Wonwoo’s thumb started rubbing my cheek reassuringly and I found strength to open my eyes, still sobbing. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were soft and I knew he felt powerless for not being able to support me. But I appreciated his presence here, he calmed me, the aching wasn’t as bad as before. I tried taking deep breaths, my sobbing coming to silently crying as I hoarsely apologized to Yerim’s parents for creating a scene right at the end of the funeral. They shook their heads and brushed it off, engulfing me in a big hug as Wonwoo stepped back, and they tried to cheer me up with reassuring words, but they only broke me more. They were so supportive and loving, they always let Yerim follow her dreams and encouraged her to become her better self. They did not deserve to lose their brilliant daughter in such an ill manner. When her parents let me go I bowed deeply to them and handed them her framed picture, making her mother cry again. Her father took it from me and then they turned their backs and slowly started walking away. I turned towards my mom and Wonwoo and nodded at them, ready to leave as well. I didn’t want to go yet, but I had to. I had to learn to live without my best friend. Without my other half. As we started walking away, my eyes fell on a figure dressed in all black, head hanging low. His blond hair made it easy to recognize him, it was Soonyoung. He was gazing absent mindedly at Yerim’s grave and my eyebrows furrowed as I watched him. He looked emotionless, something foreign to Soonyoung. His eyes seemed to be red, but he wasn’t crying. Suddenly, he took off towards the grave and before I could follow him with my eyes, Wonwoo squeezed my hand and asked me if I wanted to have some lunch his mother cooked. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to refuse. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch time. And my mother seemed to cheer up a little bit at the idea of seeing Mrs. Jeon, so I agreed to that lunch. And as my mother opened the door for me before going to the driver’s seat, I glanced back at Yerim’s grave and furrowed my eyebrows. We were far from it, but not so far that I couldn’t see Soonyoung’s face. And he was smiling. I felt goosebumps erupting on my skin as I quickly got inside the car, his words from when he sat with me in the ambulance as I was falling unconscious ringing through my mind, ‘I just couldn’t help it…’.

Everything was hard after the funeral. Time really went by fast and I found myself doing nothing but staring out of my head, reminiscing about all the memories I had with Yerim. We’ve been best friends since primary school. I had no other friends, nobody that could live up to her or to our bond. I had no one to talk to suddenly, no one to annoy and no one to listen to as they told their ridiculous stories. It was so hard. I couldn’t eat, some nights I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t focus in school or when I had to study. Wonwoo tried to help and studied with me for a hard test, but it did nothing as I failed it. The teachers were understanding and they weren’t pushing me too hard, but for how long would I have their pity? How long until they start calling me out and telling me to get a grip and move on? Sometimes, in the hallways, I would see Myoi Mina’s best friend and I understood. I understood the sorrow in her eyes, the way she wouldn’t even look at anyone else but the ground. How she’d jump at the tiniest sound and how she’d brush off anyone who tried to talk to her. I was like that too, although I was trying hard not to be, it just wasn’t working. A girl who knew Yerim tried to take her seat yesterday and I flipped and screamed at her horrendous things for trying to do so. I felt horrible after that, but it didn’t matter, I was sent to our school’s therapist. He didn’t do much, just gave me some tips on how to grieve, told me to contact him if I started feeling worse, and then sent me on my merry way. I was already feeling the worst, could this get any worse? Wonwoo was understanding, but I could see he was growing restless. He’d snap at me when I’d refuse hanging out with him for the fourth time that week, but he’d instantly apologize saying he understood and he was also dealing with grief. Yerim and him weren’t very close, but they spent a lot of time together because of me, of course he was grieving too. However, Soonyoung was nowhere to be found. Some say his parents took him away on a retreat after he snapped at his younger sister at home, Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about him when asked. It was strange. Their behavior. Wonwoo would become tense when anyone mentioned the killer but when I’d ask if everything was alright he’d become defensive and say he was just stressed.

Tonight was one of those nights when I was restless and couldn’t stay at home anymore, so I went for a walk. My mom was cooking dinner and after playing with Byeol, I grabbed my coat and told my mom I’d be taking a walk in the neighborhood. She asked me to be home in half an hour as it was getting dark and rainy clouds started gathering on the sky. I missed Yerim a lot, and I couldn’t help but think about how excited she’d get whenever it rained. One summer we went down to the lake and it started raining hard, but despite that, Yerim still went and swum in the lake, splashing me repeatedly, making me go in with her despite being scared. Without meaning to, I found myself walking by Yerim’s house. I glanced up at her window, but of course the light wasn’t on. Of course it wouldn’t be on, why would it be? Yerim wasn’t there studying. I wished she was so that I could convince her to hang out with me and Byeol, but she wasn’t here with us anymore. The front door to their house opened and I smiled when I saw her father walking down the porch stairs. He looked up and spotted me, waving at me, as he was headed towards me.

“Good evening, Mr. Kim.” I greeted him and he smiled, opening the gate for me.

“Hello there, Y/N. What brings you here?” His eyes had always reminded me of Yerim’s, and their laughter was the same.

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood, and found myself wandering here…” Yerim’s father’s face seemed to lose the little happiness he displayed and he sighed, glancing back, up at Yerim’s window.

“I understand, sometimes I find myself walking up to her room in the mornings, wanting to wake her up…” I bit my lower lip and Mr. Kim sighed before looking back at me, “Would you like to come inside? My wife baked those muffins you two girls really like.”

I found myself smiling, Mrs. Kim’s chocolate muffins were the best, whenever she baked them, Yerim and I would devour them in an hour, “If I’m not bothering too much…”

“Non-sense, child.” Mr. Kim laughed and stepped aside, allowing me inside their property. I bowed my head a little at him and walked through the gate, “I’m headed to the supermarket, want anything?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Kim!” He nodded and patted my head before he left through the gate, walking down the street, headed for the closest supermarket. Mr. Kim had always been the father figure I never had. He had also always treated me as his daughter. He was the one who taught me how to swim and how to ride a bicycle as my mother was too busy at the hospital. My parents divorced when I was really young and my father disappeared after that despite promising to come by sometimes and pay for the allowance. I shook my head at the thought of my absent father and walked up to the front door, knocking on it before walking inside. There was some jazz music playing quietly in the background as the delicious muffin smell wafted through the air. I took off my shoes and coat, and walked towards the kitchen, knocking on the door, realizing Mrs. Kim didn’t hear me entering.

“Oh, you’re back—Y/N!” A wide smile spread on Mrs. Kim’s face when she saw me and she rushed up to me, hugging me tightly, “How lovely you stepped by! We haven’t seen you since—”

Since the funeral, “Right, I was out for a walk and found myself passing by. Mr. Kim and I just happened to run into each other, he invited me inside.”

“How smart of him,” Mrs. Kim chuckled; however you could see she wasn’t feeling as giddy as she was acting, “I just happened to bake your favorite chocolate muffins.”

And Yerim’s. I smiled gratefully at Mrs. Kim as she handed me two chocolate muffins, which were still warm, “Thank you.”

“I will pack some for you to take home. I baked too much either way, my husband and I don’t have a sweet tooth, I just missed the smell of it. Your mother loves them too, she’ll be happy for the small gift.” Yerim might’ve looked like his father, but she talked just as much as her mother. When you’d sit down with the two of them and listen to their stories, time would fly by and you wouldn’t even notice. They had a very captivating way of speaking, conversing with them never felt awkward or boring.

“Thank you, she will probably give you a call when she gets them.” I said with a chuckle and Mrs. Kim smiled.

“As she should, we haven’t talked in a while…” Since Yerim’s funeral, but she didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to say it either. It felt nice being in their home after two weeks. I always felt so welcomed here. The house was bright and homey, Yerim and Mrs. Kim having decorated it in an eccentric way, which would sometimes give Mr. Kim a headache. I looked behind me and glanced at the stair leading upstairs as Mrs. Kim placed some muffins in a smaller bag. She turned back and noticed me staring back at the stairs.

“You can go up, if you want to—Yerim wouldn’t mind it, I know.” Mrs. Kim spoke up and I nodded at her gratefully, placing the muffins I was holding on the table, before hurrying up the stairs and beelining it for her room. I hesitated for a second before opening the door, preparing myself for her absence, but it still hit me hard when I opened the door to darkness. I gulped and turned on the light, blinking away the tears which suddenly sprung to my eyes. Her room was the same, messy but not exactly. Her closet door was slightly opened and I could see her pink hoodie spilling out and I chuckled as I walked over and grabbed it. I always told her to just hang her hoodies up, but she never listened to me. As I held it in my hands, Yerim’s sweet scent hit my nose and I bit my lower lip, taking a deep breath. I placed her hoodie on the bed and pulled my long sleeve over my head before pulling her hoodie on and closing my eyes. My skin got covered in goosebumps as I imagined Yerim sitting in her chair and complaining about me wearing her favorite hoodie, but secretly not being bothered by it at all. We always shared our clothes when we’d have sleepovers, even tried them on and did a fake fashion show or acted as if had to sell them to each other at ridiculous prices. The hoodie’s fabric slowly warmed up and I opened my eyes, looking around her room. Her parents haven’t touched anything and I was reluctant to do so too, so I sat down on her bed and started playing with my fingers. The book I recommended to her to read was on her desk, bookmark somewhere at the middle of the book. She never got to read the mind-blowing plot twist, it made me sad, she would’ve loved it so much. Feeling a bit stuffy, I stood up and opened the window before going back to her bed and jumping on it, sprawling out on it. Yerim’s bed was always so comfortable, her blanket puffy, and bed covered in stuffed animals. I turned onto my stomach and started humming my favorite song as I stared up at the pictures above her bed, smiling as most were with the two of us. Our favorite pictures or just really silly ones. Yerim had big dreams compared to me, I was still struggling to decide what to do after high-school. My eyes went to her nightstand and I grinned when I noticed her favorite strawberry candy laying in her jar. It was the last one. I would always steal it, so I did just that. Hopefully, wherever Yerim was, she could see me right now and she’d be frowning and shaking her head at me. I loved annoying her like that. I unwrapped the candy and slowly ate it, chuckling at myself and how silly I must look. As I threw the wrapper on the nightstand, my eyes widened when I noticed her phone next to her lamp. Her parents must’ve placed it there. It surprised me for some reason, and as I reached for it and grabbed it, a twig snapped outside Yerim’s window and something hit the window. I gasped loudly and turned around, coming face to face with Soonyoung, as he had just climbed inside. I quickly placed Yerim’s phone in the hoodie’s pocket, something told me to hide it from Soonyoung.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked alarmed, heart beating fast from the scare. Soonyoung looked around before leaning against Yerim’s desk.

“I was running and saw light coming from her room—”

“So you just climb inside?!” I asked accusingly and Soonyoung shook his head.

“No, I didn’t meant to, but I saw it was you and—” He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, “I don’t know…I just felt the need to talk to you.”

It made me realize this was the first time seeing him since Yerim’s funeral. And based on rumors, he wasn’t even supposed to be home.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you in school and Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about you.” I asked and Soonyoung looked up with a cold gaze, he looked tired.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was visiting my grandparents for a week, and I didn’t feel like going to school this week, so yeah.” Soonyoung explained and I nodded, taking in his posture. His shoulders were slumped and his forehead sweaty. He was out running, after all.

“And you?” Soonyoung cleared his throat, “Are you good?”

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking through my answer, “On some days I’m good, on some days I can’t eat nor sleep. I’m feeling content at the moment, but maybe that’s because we’re standing in Yerim’s room and I’m wearing her hoodie and I can just trick myself into believing that she’s downstairs with her mom or taking a shower…”

Soonyoung nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at the hoodie I was wearing, “That was her favorite.” I hummed and he licked his lips, starting to shake his head suddenly.

“You know—if only—” He scoffed and his eyebrows furrowed, “If only she wasn’t so stubborn. She just—she always refused to go out with me, never even gave me a chance. I tried to convince her so many times, you know, I was patient and nice, but—”

I watched as Soonyoung grew agitated and started walking up and down, “But I just couldn’t do it anymore, you know? It’s like, my brain just clicked and I snapped and—”

I was growing confused as I listened to Soonyoung rambling, what did he mean? Snapped and what?, “You snapped and what, Soonyoung?”

“I didn’t want to do it, I swear.” His voice grew low and when he stopped and faced me, he looked different. His expression was dark and his mouth was in a sneer. I gulped and stood up, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Soonyoung didn’t seem to notice my discomfort as he hung his head low and sighed loudly.

“I just couldn’t help it…” I gasped. Those words again. What did he mean by them? He didn’t…no. This is Soonyoung, it’s impossible. He couldn’t have…no. He’s my boyfriend’s best friend, he’d never—he’s not a criminal!

“We should go.” I found my voice as I shook my head, growing afraid all of a sudden. Soonyoung was acting weird and I had to go home now. My words seemed to snap him out of his mumbling and he suddenly looked at me, face void of the previous darkness.

“You’re right…” He nodded and patted my shoulder, offering me a small smile, “Don’t tell her parents I climbed in though, I don’t want them to believe I did this often.”

I forced out a chuckle and watched as he climbed out the window and then jumped down, sneaking away from the Kim’s property. My heart was beating like crazy as I closed Yerim’s window and I clutched her phone firmly in my hand as I turned the light off and closed the door behind me. I always refused to listen to what Yerim has always told me, but maybe, just perhaps, there was something very wrong with Soonyoung.

           Today the sun seemed to finally come out, no rain clouds seemed to appear anytime soon. It was warm for an October day and I found myself sitting in the courtyard, drawing in my notebook to pass time. I wasn’t hungry, so it was useless to go to the Cafeteria. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so when this morning Wonwoo approached me and suggested going on a date after classes, I declined and told him I had to do some catching up in Biology class as I skipped the last two classes having felt unwell. He got moody and stormed off without a word, making me sigh. I was pushing away everyone from myself, but I didn’t know how else to cope with the loss of my best friend. It was the only thing that made me feel content. I drew some harsh lines, trying to create the skyline in my drawing, when I saw someone approaching from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t look up, thinking it was either Wonwoo or Soonyoung, but the girly scent which hit my nose once the person sat next to me on the bench made me turn my head and look at them. It came as a surprise to see Minatozaki Sana sitting next to me, Mina’s best friend. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a sleeveless turtleneck underneath her cardigan. She looked better than on most days, but her eyes were quite empty. She was staring at me too and I blinked at her in confusion. We never really talked to each other; she was in an entirely different grade than I was.

“Hello.” She broke the silence and I cleared my throat.

“Hi.” I greeted back and looked down at her hand curiously as she extended it towards me.

“My name is Sana; we’ve never been formally introduced to each other.” She seemed like a very straightforward person. I nodded and shook her hand.

“Indeed, my name is Y/N.” Sana hummed and we let go of each other’s hands, “I’m sorry for you loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss too.” Sana was quick to return my words and I chuckled humorlessly, bringing a sarcastic smile on her lips. She nodded at me and then turned away, gazing at the trees on the other side of the courtyard. I continued watching her, thinking she’d say something else, but she remained silent, even ignored me. Realizing our conversation ended here I shrugged and looked down at my drawing, continuing to draw those harsh lines. And like that, we sat in silence next to each other. Sana proceeded to take out a book and read, and in a weird way, it brought comfort to have someone sitting next to me. But it was weird, if it were Wonwoo or Soonyoung, they would’ve irritated me. Sana’s presence was relaxing, understanding. Words didn’t need to be exchanged, we understood. Our silence was louder than our words could’ve been. I found myself smiling, something I haven’t done in the past four weeks. I glanced at Sana from the corner of my eyes and she was smiling too, sneaking glances at me. Before we could say anything, we both started giggling and it felt so nice. It was so relieving, as if I released all the pent-up stress I had in my muscles.

“We must look so odd to someone if they have been watching us for the past fifteen minutes.” Sana said through her giggles and I shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s the nicest thing someone could be thinking about us at the moment.” I said and Sana nodded, our giggles coming to a stop. Neither of us had to say it, but after Mina’s death there were whispers about Sana. How she killed her best friend because she was jealous of Mina’s success as she was the cheerleading captain and just wanted her position. How they weren’t even friends and kept a façade because their families were friends. Some rumors spread about Sana being in love with Mina, who didn’t reciprocate her feelings, so Sana killed her in a fit of rage. They were awful. And as the students were gossiping about Mina, they were gossiping about me too. I heard the jealousy version too, the need for attention version too, and even the version where Yerim was in love with Wonwoo and I killed her because I couldn’t stand the thought. They were hilarious, but they still got to you after a while. Just last week, Wonwoo almost got into a fight because of a guy who dared to ask me how it felt plunging that knife into Yerim. If Wonwoo wouldn’t have punched the living daylight out of him, I would’ve definitely.

“Don’t let the gossips get to you, they are ridiculous.” Sana said with a roll of her eyes and I nodded, agreeing.

“I know, but they still get bothersome after a while…” I muttered and closed my notebook as the bell rang, signaling our break was over. Sana looked up at the sky for a second and then closed her book, placing it in her backpack.

“You could always just slap them, you know.” She said with a mischievous smile and I chuckled.

“Have you slapped anyone so far?” I asked and Sana pursed her lips.

“Of course, I have,” She stood up, “Johnny thought it was funny talking about my dead friend’s figure and how pitiful it was that he couldn’t sleep with her before she died.”

I didn’t know who this Johnny was, but he deserved that slap, “How disgusting.”

“Indeed.” Sana hummed and waited for me to pack my belongings and get up from the bench. We took off, headed to the side entrance to the school, when suddenly, the intercom went off and our principal’s voice came through.

“This is the principal speaking. I ask everyone to pack their belongings and head straight to the main entrance. All students have fifteen minutes to leave the premises, a dead body was found in the men’s bathroom on the third floor. I instruct everyone to leave right now, and do not try and approach said bathroom or there will be repercussions!” Sana and I stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other before hurrying inside the school, you could only leave through the main entrance. The halls were full of students rushing to get out, it was chaotic. Everyone was pushing everyone around and I found myself reaching for Sana’s hand, keeping her close to me as a bigger guy almost ran into her. She thanked me quietly and we continued making our way towards the main entrance. My heart was racing and suddenly I was feeling sick. Another victim. Another crime. Who was it this time? And just as that thought crossed my mind, I suddenly felt my legs turn weak. Wonwoo. Where was Wonwoo? Soonyoung? Where were they? Were they fine? I couldn’t do this again. I felt like I was walking through water again, the entrance was just there, but it felt so far away. I felt Sana tugging on my hand and I followed her, trying to control my rigged breathing.

“Hey, look at me.” She said once we were outside and she pulled me to the side of the steps, “Breathe, Y/N, you’re turning red.”

I nodded and tried to take a deep breath, but my muscles were tense and I felt tears gather in my eyes, “Where’s Wonwoo?”

An understanding look crossed Sana’s face and she started looking around, “I am sure he is alright; he’s probably looking for you right now, just as scared. You need to breathe, Y/N.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, feeling Sana’s grip tightening on my hand, and I tried to breathe. It was hard at the beginning, my lungs seemed to refuse to listen, but at last I was able to take little breaths here and there. Before I could react to the disappearance of Sana’s grip, I was engulfed into a bear hug, held tightly to someone’s chest. I gasped and opened my eyes, my arms going around Wonwoo’s neck.

“Oh my God, you’re okay.” I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. Wonwoo’s breathing was shaky as well and he nodded, his hold crushing me.

“Yes, yes.” He whispered and kissed my head, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I muttered and shook my head, pulling a bit back. Wonwoo’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was breathing hard, his hair fell into his eyes. I pushed it back and smiled at him, grateful that nothing happened to him. I really wouldn’t have been able to deal with losing him too in such a sort time after Yerim’s death. I leaned up and pressed a short kiss against his lips and I could feel Wonwoo’s muscles relaxing, his hold not tight anymore.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all break.” Wonwoo muttered, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“In the courtyard, I wasn’t hungry.” I answered and then looked down, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

Wonwoo shook his head and kissed my forehead swiftly, “No, it’s alright.”

I realized Sana was with me seconds ago and looked around, spotting her to our right, “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded her head before she placed her backpack around her shoulders and started walking away. Wonwoo nodded at her and Sana greeted him back before disappearing in the crowd of people.

“You know her?” He asked quietly, almost sounding irritated.

“Not really, we talked for the first time today. But I knew who she was.” I explained and he nodded, looking off in the distance.

“You shouldn’t be friends with her.” Wonwoo sounded serious as his expression hardened and I stepped out of his hold, confused.

“Why?” But before he could answer me, Soonyoung came running up to us. His hair was disheveled and he was panting, a duffel bag in his hands. My eyebrows furrowed and I stepped back when he stopped next to me a little bit too close for my liking. I’ve been avoiding him since we met in Yerim’s room, scared of his sudden changes of mood. Soonyoung had a crazed look in his eyes and he was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at Wonwoo.

“Did you hear? The murderer killed someone again.” He sounded excited and my eyebrows furrowed when I saw Wonwoo’s lips twitching.

“Who was it this time?” Wonwoo asked, voice uncaring, but I didn’t miss the hint of smirk on his lips. I gulped, curious too, but a bit taken aback by the boys attitudes.

“Boo Seungkwan.” I gasped and took a step back again, eyes widening. I knew him. The two boys looked at me with raised eyebrows. I gulped and avoided their eyes, feeling uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly, feeling a lump in my throat.

“One hundred percent, Y/N,” Soonyoung chuckled and he went and slung his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, “I was the one who found him.”

My head snapped up and I watched the two boys in front of me as they looked at each other and chuckled, and then my eyes fell on the duffle bag. It was zipped closed, but…it looked as if there was a darker spot on it. I squinted as I tried focusing on it, but Wonwoo’s voice caught my attention.

“Didn’t you know him, sugar?” He asked sweetly and I nodded, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, I did, he—” I cleared my throat and scratched my arm in discomfort, “He’s been bullying me since kindergarten.”

“He must’ve had a crush on you, right, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung asked with a laugh and I grimaced, weirded out by their behavior and feeling bad for talking like that about a dead person.

“Well, he’s been put out of his misery, so, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” Wonwoo’s voice was smug and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at my boyfriend, who seemed amused by the whole situation. What was happening? Why were they reacting like this? Wasn’t Soonyoung supposed to be shaken up after finding a dead body? I shuddered, and Wonwoo noticed because his demeanor changed instantly and he shook Soonyoung off him and took a step toward me.

“Y/N, I’m—”

“I have to go.” I cut him off and hurried away before he could grab me and convince me to stay with the two of them. I glanced back when I was a good distance away from them and saw Soonyoung making some slashing motions with his hand while laughing and Wonwoo smirking at him as he dug his hands inside his pockets. There was something very wrong with Soonyoung, and I was getting more and more scared of him.  

           Despite the sun being out throughout the day, by the evening some dark clouds started gathering on the sky, lightning flashing in the distance. I sighed as I drew my curtains to the side and opened the window, letting some fresh air in before the rain could start. I figured we’d have another stormy night, great, my mom had the night shift again, I hated being home alone during storms. I could hear Byeol running up and down the hallway as I sat on my bed and I chuckled, she had the zoomies again. I was holding Yerim’s phone in my hands and I figured I couldn’t do much damage if I looked through her gallery. Before leaving the Kim’s house I asked if it was alright if I borrowed her phone for a while, and they said it was okay as long as I returned it. So, pulling my hair to the side I unlocked her phone and went to her gallery. She was very organized, even when it came to pictures. There were different folders for different themes, all labeled accordingly. I clicked on the one with our nicknames for each other and giggled at the first photo. It was taken when Yerim and I went to the movies and I accidentally got stuck in the bathroom as the lock was faulty. You could see my hands from above the stall and I remembered how loudly I was screaming as I had left my phone with Yerim. It was hilarious, but I prefer not repeating the incident. Then the next one was with her neighbor’s dog; she took a selfie as we both were petting it. Then there were a bunch of hilarious and cute selfies from our latest sleepover, a few pictures of Byeol, and our favorite picture which we took while hiking one day. I sighed and looked out the window, just in time to see the lightning strike again. The thunder followed almost immediately, but it wasn’t as loud as I expected it to be. I looked back down at Yerim’s phone and excited her camera roll, about to place her phone to the side, when Byeol came zooming inside my room, scaring the living daylight out of me. I yelped and watched as she stopped underneath my window before she jumped up on the sill, looking at me innocently. I grimaced at her and looked back down at the phone, having accidentally opened the call log. My eyes ran over the familiar names of people, mine being the last one. I was the last person Yerim called before she died. A lump formed in my throat and I gulped, noticing the unknown number underneath mine. Who could that have been? Maybe a scammer or a guy she newly met, however I doubted that was the case, she always saved the numbers she was talking to. Biting my lower lip, I debated calling the unknown number, but after all, I had nothing to lose. And curiosity was eating my alive. So, I clicked on the number and dialed it, waiting patiently for the person on the other side to pick up. However, a ringing sound not too far away from my window suddenly caught my attention and I knew I wasn’t hallucinating as Byeol’s ears perked up at the sound too. But before I could think more of it, my call was picked up, but there was only silence on the other end. My eyebrows furrowed as I stood from my bed and walked towards Byeol, lightly petting her head as I looked out my window.

“Hello?” I asked quietly, getting a strange feeling of being watched, so I closed the window and locked it quickly.

“Hi there, beautiful.” I jumped at the distorted voice. It sounded like a robot speaking, the voice was low but almost glitchy. I looked out the window, wondering who was this and why had they called Yerim?

“Who are you?” I asked curiously, figuring it was just someone playing a prank on me.

“Wouldn’t it be boring if I told you that?” The voice almost took a playful tone and I chuckled.

“Perhaps, it would ruin your fun too soon, right?” I decided to play along and the person chuckled.

“Smart girl, indeed, it would ruin my fun too soon.” There was a pause before they continued, “And I’m not done having fun yet.”

I hummed and started petting Byeol’s head again as she was staring out the window, “Why did you call Yerim?”

“I was just about to ask; how do you have your dead friend’s phone?” I paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. So this person seems to know us well. First, they probably called Yerim and were pranking her and now they are playing with me. It’s probably one of our classmates then, Mark likes goofing around.

“You must know us well if you have her number.” I decided to feel around and try and find out who this was.

“Oh,” The person chuckled and it sent a chill down my spine, “I happen to know you very well, Y/N.”

I licked my lips and looked down at Byeol as she pulled her head away, having had enough of my petting, “Really? How?”

The person chuckled again and I watched as Byeol jumped down from the window sill and walked out of my room, “I can’t tell you all of my secrets just yet, beautiful, it’s our first time talking.”

“I don’t think it is,” I chuckled, “Mark.”

There was a pause before the person sighed, “Who’s Mark, beautiful?”

I rolled my eyes, amused, “Ha-ha, very funny. My classmate, obvious. You really like playing pranks on people, don’t you? I thought last week’s detention was enough for a lifetime.”

“What if I’m not Mark?” The voice sounded very serious all of a sudden and I bit my lower lip, tracing a rain drop on my window as it started lightly raining.

“Then who could you possibly be?” There was another lightning and I turned around when Byeol started meowing loudly in my doorway. She was hungry, again, “I’m bored of this game—”

I turned to face the window again but instead of finishing my sentence, I cut myself off with a loud scream. A masked person was standing outside my window, and I started shaking as I froze for a second. It was…a Ghostface.

“Auch, beautiful, that was loud.” The Ghostface whined and I quickly drew the curtains closed, pulling down the blinds too, “What are you doing? Let me see you—”

“Who are you?!” I cut the person off, almost screaming as I ran out of my room, Byeol following agitatedly behind me. I checked the front door quickly, making sure it was locked before I went to check the door in the living room as well.

“Just a Ghostface, beautiful.” The person answered nonchalantly and my heart started beating fast as I hid behind the sofa, pulling Byeol into my chest. She made no sound as she gazed at me with her big green eyes.

“Stop calling me beautiful!” I snapped and tried to take deep breaths, debating on calling the police from my own phone. Who was this? What did they want? Were they…were they here to hurt me? What if…what if they were the killer? I felt dread flush over my whole being and I swallowed my tears and blinked my eyes continuously. I had to stay focused, if I was in danger, I had to save myself somehow.

“Did I scare you, beau—”

“Did you kill Kim Yerim?” I cut the Ghostface off, voice shaky as I waited for an answer. The person’s laughter made me shudder and Byeol wrestled herself out of my arms and meowed loudly at me for holding her so tightly. I felt sorry, but I was scared, and I was trying to hold her close to myself in case we needed to escape.

“Maybe I did.” There was a pause and I gasped, “Maybe I didn’t.”

I sprung up to my feet, acting out of pure terror, as I ran up to my room and grabbed my phone. I was too scared to look out of my window to see if the person was still there. There was a loud thunder and I screamed as the line went dead, leaving me shaking. Was the Ghostface gone? Shakily, I placed Yerim’s phone on my desk and slowly raised the blinds, scared of seeing the Ghostface outside of my window still. But nobody was there. I was scared, shaking, and on the verge of crying. Byeol was downstairs and the rain started falling harder. I couldn’t stay alone tonight; it would kill my nerves. So I quickly unlocked my phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number, pacing up and down in my room as I waited for him to pick up. Something rustled outside of my window and I froze when I faintly heard Wonwoo’s familiar ringtone, but the thunder swallowing the sound was louder and it made me feel stupid. Why would Wonwoo be right outside my window unannounced either way? What was he? A burglar? Wonwoo picked up on the third ring.

“Hi—”

“Can you sleepover tonight?” I cut him off, words hurried as I fixed my eyes on my window, starting to shake again.

“Are you alright?” Wonwoo sounded concerned and I heard rustling on the other end.

“No, are you coming over?”

“I’m on my way.” Wonwoo said before hanging up and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was good. I wouldn’t be alone. Wonwoo would come by and sleep here. I took deep breaths as I paced around my room, Byeol sat in the doorway and watched me with a confused look on her face. I chuckled when I looked at her and tried not to think about the Ghostface and our conversation. It freaked me out. Who was behind the mask? And why would they want to prank anyone in this kind of way? It was distasteful and creepy, I was scared. Just as Byeol meowed she reminded that I forgot to feed her, the doorbell rang. I paused and looked at Byeol, my heart suddenly racing again. Who was that? Wonwoo lived twenty minutes away from me and it wasn’t even five minutes since I had called him, it couldn’t have been him. Was it…the person wearing that Ghostface mask? My heart started beating fast again and I glanced at Byeol as she started meowing loudly and took off towards the front door. The doorbell rang again and I hurried after my cat, calling out her name quietly.

“Stop!” I whisper-shouted, motioning at her to come to me, but she was ignoring me. Her meows were loud and I cursed quietly as I creeped towards the front door, convinced that it wasn’t Wonwoo, but that masked person. I should call the police. Suddenly there was loud knocking on the front door and I jumped as Byeol glanced at me.

“Y/N?!” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me sigh in relief as I quickly unlocked the front door and opened it for him. His hair was drenched and his jacket and jeans were wet too, it was pouring outside now. Byeol started meowing as Wonwoo stepped inside and he smiled at her, kneeling down to muzzle his face against her head. Byeol loved Wonwoo and they always played together a lot when Wonwoo came over. But…how did he get here so fast?

“Wonwoo—you’re drenched.” I muttered suspiciously as I helped him out of his jacket. He suddenly looked at me with a wide smile, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I was on my way here when the rain started.” He said with a shrug and I hung his jacket on the hanger.

“But you got here really fast…” I trailed off and watched him take off his shoes before he gave Byeol a swift kiss.

“Oh, yeah, I was already on my way—”

“Why?” I asked accusingly, eyebrows furrowed, and arms crossed in front of my chest. There were too many weird things happening today, I was freaked out. I couldn’t decide if my thoughts were real or I was being delusional. Could I seriously not trust my own boyfriend anymore? But he gave me no reasons…

Wonwoo looked taken aback by my tone and words, “Uhm…I just wanted to surprise you? You told me your mom was working the nightshift and I know you hate storms…”

He was right, I was overreacting, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry—it’s just, lately I’m so jumpy.”

Wonwoo smiled and approached me, cupping my cheeks, “I noticed, but it’s fine. Things will get better eventually.”

I nodded and kissed his lips, their warmth bringing a sense of tranquility as I stepped closer to him. Wonwoo’s grip got firmer and our lips started moving against each other as I circled my arms around his neck, his wet hair tingling my wrists. One of his hand’s gripped my waist, and I hummed when his familiar scent hit my nose. It felt nice kissing him, I’ve been keeping my distance from Wonwoo, feeling uncomfortable lately with any physical contact besides a brief hug. And this felt nice now. His familiar lips, and firm grip, musky scent, I realized I had missed them. Byeol’s loud meowing broke us apart and I chuckled as I pressed another kiss against Wonwoo’s lips.

“Poor cat, she’s hungry…can you feed her while I bring you a towel?” I asked and Wonwoo nodded with a smile, releasing me from his hold as I turned and headed to the bathroom. Byeol followed Wonwoo as they headed into the kitchen and I could hear him pouring the cat food into her little bowl. I got a clean towel and then walked to the kitchen, handing it to Wonwoo.

“Do you want tea or hot chocolate?” I asked with a grin as I grabbed two mugs. Wonwoo pursed his lips and pulled out his glasses from the pocket of his hoodie.

“It’s a hot chocolate kind of night.”

“Right?!” I asked with a chuckle and he nodded at me amused.

“Do you still have my spare clothes?’ Wonwoo asked and I chuckled as I glanced back at him.

“What do you think?” He smirked at me and pushed up his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, “They are in the laundry room.”

Wonwoo thanked me and then walked away, leaving me with Byeol in the kitchen. While she quietly ate her food I prepared the hot chocolate for Wonwoo and I. He took his time to change out of his wet clothes and dried his hair with the towel as best as he could. When he joined us in the kitchen again, the hot chocolate were already ready and Byeol was somewhere off in the house, probably sleeping as she had just eaten. I handed Wonwoo a mug as he approached me and he thanked me with his signature gummy smile. I had always loved his smile, it made him look so cute. It was a nice contrast compared to his usual poker face. Wonwoo wasn’t very expressive usually, but when it was just the two of us, he could be very cute. He interlaced our fingers as we drank our hot chocolate and I giggled, raising my eyebrows at him.

“I missed you.” He whispered, looking down at his mug. I bit my lower lip and felt bad for pushing him away for so long, but I needed the space. I still do, but it’s not as bad as after the funeral.

“I’m sorry, I just felt uncomfortable around people after…” I trailed off and sighed, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. Wonwoo squeezed my hand.

“I understand you, and I’m not pressuring you in any way. It must hurt like hell losing your best friend.” I gulped a bit harder and glanced at Wonwoo briefly, noticing the change in his behavior. There it was again, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. It was confusing.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot. I hope the criminal is caught soon so that I can face them—”

“And what would you do?” Wonwoo sounded curious as he turned his body to face mine. I raised an eyebrow at him as I shrugged.

“That they are a piece of shit and I hope they rot away in prison until they get to root in hell.” Despite me being dead serious, Wonwoo started laughing and I pulled my hand out of his, slightly irritated.

“You’re hot when you get fired up, sugar.” Normally his compliments would leave me feeling giddy, but we were talking about the murderer of my best friend right now, there was nothing hot about it.

I shot Wonwoo a glare before walking to the sink to wash my mug, “I thought we were having a serious conversation, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo sighed and approached me, still sipping his hot chocolate, “Come on, I was just joking—”

“Well it’s not funny!” I snapped, looking at him, “Yerim was murdered and you’re telling me I’m hot when I talk about her murderer?!”

“No, that’s not hot, I was just saying you are—nevermind, I’m not in the mood to fight. You’ve been ignoring me for three weeks and when we finally get to spend some time together you’re just getting angry at me.” Wonwoo sounded accusing as he placed the mug forcefully in the sink and I rolled my eyes.

“What did you expect me to do? Jump in your arms the day after my friend’s funeral—”

“You didn’t have to push me away!” His voice raised and I turned to wash his mug too, hating it when he started getting loud while arguing, “I get that you don’t let me touch you, but you wouldn’t even speak to me, Y/N! If I knew you’d be like this I wouldn’t have let Soonyoung—”

I paused, turning to look at Wonwoo. He seemed speechless as he stared at me wide eyed, shaking his head. I turned off the water and faced him.

“What the hell are you even saying?” I asked confused, trying to comprehend his words but I didn’t understand what he was talking about. What had Soonyoung to do with our argument right now? What did he do?

“Nothing, I’m just—” Wonwoo shrugged and took a deep breath, composing himself, “I just missed you, that’s it. I hate arguing with you, you know that.”

“Yeah, well,” I scoffed and dried my hands in a towel, “I wouldn’t be arguing with you if you tried to understand my feelings—”

“I do understand.” He cut me off and my jaw clenched as I gave him a glare.

“I don’t feel it, but whatever, do you want to watch a movie or what?” Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to watch anything, I just wanted to go to sleep, but I knew Wonwoo would bother me until I wasn’t grumpy.

“Do you want to watch one?” Wonwoo asked with a sigh, knowing that our previous conversation was over.

“No.” I muttered and he looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” I nodded wordlessly and he pulled me into a hug, making me roll my eyes. I didn’t want to be hugged right now, but I didn’t push him away, just didn’t reciprocate the hug, “It’s still early to go to sleep.”

It wasn’t that early, but he was right, I would wake up during the night, probably, “Whatever, I want to go to bed.”

He groaned and suddenly I felt his hands gripping my thighs as I was hauled up, I yelped and grabbed onto him, “What are you doing?!”

Wonwoo said nothing as he took off and headed up the stairs, towards my room. He pushed the door open with his foot and walked towards my bed, before I could ask him to let me down, he fell forward, crushing me against the bed with his weight. I groaned as my bed’s mattress wasn’t soft.

“Wonwoo…” I muttered with a glare, grabbing his shoulders to push him off. He whined and didn’t move as he nuzzled his head in my neck, “You’re too heavy.”

“And you’re too grumpy.” He muttered and I slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle. I wanted him off, but he wasn’t budging. Before I could interject, he started pressing kisses against my neck, knowing well I was ticklish there, but I tried to keep my laughter in as I tried wrestling out from underneath him. Wonwoo was having the time of his life as he started laughing and tickling my sides too, making me cry out in despair as I hated being tickled.

“Stop! Wonwoo!” I tried to push his hands away, but it was futile. Wonwoo was giggling and quickly kissed my lips before he finally stopped tickling me, smiling at me mischievously. I glared at him and as I went to smack his arm, Byeol decided to join us as she jumped up on Wonwoo’s back. I started laughing as Wonwoo hissed, Byeol’s nails dug into his back, he deserved it after torturing me here.

“Hey, Byeol!” Wonwoo started shaking his back, trying to get my cat off of him, but it wasn’t working, so I started poking her, trying to get her off his back. And it worked, because Byeol jumped off and Wonwoo finally got off of me as well to start playing with my cat. He got on the floor and started pushing her lightly around, making Byeol land on her side as she started turning around, attacking Wonwoo’s fingers and jumping on his hand. I chuckled and left the two to play as I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas and brush my teeth. I was too tired to shower, so I tried to be quick and when I walked back inside my room, Wonwoo and Byeol were still playing. I poked Byeol to rile her up more and she lunged for Wonwoo’s hand, making him hiss as I plugged in my phone. I looked at him and Wonwoo was glaring at Byeol.

“Did she scratch you?” I asked as Wonwoo got up and sat on my bed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and showed me his hand, two long, red, scratches decorating his hand. I pouted at him mockingly and kissed the scratches before laying down in my bed and pulling the blanket over my body.

“Don’t worry, soldier, those scratches won’t kill you for now.” I said mockingly and Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over my head, but I managed to punch his bicep, making him groan. I giggled and pulled the blanket off, sticking my tongue out at him, “Are you coming to bed?”

“Nah,” Wonwoo stood and walked to my computer, “I want to play COD before I go to sleep.”

“Fine,” I muttered and closed my eyes, “but don’t stay up until late and check if we locked the front door before you come to bed.”

“Okay, mom.” Wonwoo muttered and I rolled my eyes, “Good night.”

“I love you.” I whispered and sighed, getting comfortable as Wonwoo turned off all the lights in my room and only left on the one at my desk. I heard Byeol moving around, no doubt she went to sleep in Wonwoo’s lap as he started playing Call of Duty.

           After Wonwoo left I had a whole three days to think about everything that’s been happening lately and they way Soonyoung and him were acting from time to time. It was getting quite obvious that there was something wrong with Soonyoung and it seems like only Yerim had noticed until now. The boy gets upset at the smallest of things and he’s always saying some fucked up shit about the people he doesn’t like, and it almost always involves a comment about how the Earth would be better off without them and that he could slay them in their sleep. I never paid attention to these comments because I thought he was just joking as he has always had a dark sense of humor. But it didn’t make sense why he was at the pool on the day Yerim died. I was the last person she called and somehow Soonyoung knew about her death. Was he perhaps nearby? But why would he be? Yerim refused to go on a date that evening, so there was no reason for Soonyoung to show up there. He was tough to deal with, but if he was told no, he wouldn’t bother you for a while. And his words kept bothering me still, ‘I just couldn’t help it’, what did he mean by them? What has he done? Wonwoo’s slip up about how he wouldn’t have let Soonyoung do whatever also didn’t sit right with me. I wished there was someone I could talk to about these crazy thoughts, but I knew how it would sound. Was I accusing Soonyoung of killing Yerim? Not exactly, but it started sounding like that. Was I suspecting my boyfriend’s best friend about being a murderer? I tried not to, but it was becoming difficult. So I decided to try and talk to him, sort things out with Soonyoung without accusing him of anything, just ask him all of the questions I desperately needed an answer to and everything would be alright. But Soonyoung started avoiding me, he wouldn’t talk to me if it was unnecessary and he’d only sit with me if Wonwoo was with us, and even then, he remained quiet. It was weird, Soonyoung talked a lot. I brought it up to Wonwoo and he said not to think too much about it as it was Soonyoung and his talkativeness depended a lot on his mood. I tried to explain to Wonwoo that I didn’t care about that, that it was his attitude which changed and that I wasn’t able to talk to him because he was avoiding me or ignoring me, but Wonwoo just shrugged it off and said that he didn’t notice anything weird with him. I knew it was futile to press the matter more, so I let it go and focused on other things. Sana and I started hanging out in the long breaks and it felt nice to have a girl to talk to again. However, one day, she freaked me out a bit.

“Did you notice how every murdered person has something to do with you so far?” She had asked as she took a bite of her sandwich. I had choked on my smoothie upon hearing her words.

“No? What are you talking about?” I had asked confused, goosebumps erupting on my skin.

“Well,” She had started saying as she gazed up at the sky, “Yerim was your best friend, you’ve known Seungkwan since you were little and well…you sort of knew Mina too, she was Wonwoo’s ex.”

Yes, I had known all these people, but I couldn’t follow Sana’s train of thought, “Yeah, but…it’s not like I’m the only one who knew them…”

“True,” Sana had hummed and then had looked at me, “Whatever, ignore what I said. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

So, we moved on with our conversation after that, however, her words made me think hard about what she had said. Somehow, she wasn’t wrong. I had known all three people, even if not from very close, they did have a significance in my life at some point, it made me shudder again. I thought about bringing it up to Wonwoo when we were hanging out after class, but I was scared he’d think I was going crazy. I was just desperate to find out who murdered and why my best friend, and all these other people. And what if I was the serial killer’s next target? Nobody was safe.

           Time flies by so fast you don’t even notice it. It feels like Yerim’s funeral was yesterday yet it’s Halloween already. Almost two months have had passed since losing her, and I was still getting used to it. I couldn’t say it was easier, but I was doing slightly better. Today was a particularly hard day as Halloween was Yerim and I’s favorite holiday. We’d always dress up in our favorite character at the moment and throw a small house party for our close friends. The rules were that we’d go trick or treating to each other and before midnight we’d gather at a bonfire and tell scary stories which have happened to us. It was a lot of fun each year and we couldn’t wait for it; however, it was my first Halloween without Yerim and it didn’t feel right. I was feeling nauseous all day long and quite moody as the weather had gotten colder too. Sana noticed my grumpiness and once I told her what the issue was she left me alone. Wonwoo wasn’t so understanding as we had talked about going to a Haunted House for fun months ago. He said he understood yet he was pressuring me in going with them. He promised it would be fun and that I shouldn’t stay at home and sulk all night long. I wasn’t sulking, I was trying to cope with the absence of my best friend, but it seemed like he didn’t understand that. So, very reluctantly, I agreed to go with him to the Haunted House. A few of his friends would be joining us, so I figured asking Sana if she’d like to come wouldn’t hurt anyone. She seemed quite excited once I told her and she promised to pick me up at around nine as Wonwoo wanted to go out beforehand with his friends. That was fine with me, I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with drunk teenage guys either way. They would get loud and pushy; I knew someone would bring up Yerim and it was the last thing I needed tonight. Mom was happy to see me going out and even encouraged me when I asked her to braid my hair. I wasn’t in the mood to go shopping for a costume, so I dressed in last year’s witch outfit. Nobody would care either way. Only Yerim actually cared, and she wasn’t here. Last year I was the one hosting the small party and I figured since I had a black cat I should dress up as a witch, it was a total success. Everyone loved the look and the vibes.

As nine o’clock approached, Sana texted me that she was right outside my house and after mom kissed my cheek and told me to have fun I left the house and jogged up to Sana’s extravagant car. They were quite rich and despite her being humble, her things screamed rich girl vibes.

“Hi!” She greeted me excited and I waved at her as I sat inside the car, “How are you?”

I sighed and closed the door, “Well, I had better days.”

“You look amazing though,” She patted my thigh and I nodded wordlessly, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable and want to come home, don’t feel hesitant to tell me. I’ll drive you.”

I felt my heart warming at her comment and gave her a genuine thankful smile, “Thank you.”

Sana wasn’t Yerim, and she’d never be, but it felt nice to have someone who was so understanding and kind. She’s shown me nothing but kindness since we started talking and it was refreshing. Sana was soft spoken and quiet usually, she didn’t speak unasked and often times we’d just sit in silence next to each other, enjoying each other’s presence. She was the total opposite of Yerim, yet we seemed to get along well. Sana made me feel seen and understood when nobody else could, perhaps that’s why I felt a little attached to her. I could only hope that she felt the same about me and didn’t think I was cold to her.

Once we got to the Haunted House the place was buzzing with people, everyone was excited for the new addition of the Amusement Park. It was a Halloween special and it was the first year they had opened a Haunted House for Halloween. Yerim would’ve loved coming here, we’ve discussed our outfits for tonight quite often and how much fun we’d have at the Haunted House, but now I had to do all of that alone. I owed it to her at least. Finding Wonwoo wasn’t hard as he and his friends had come with their bikes and they were gathered at the entrance of the Park, being loud and annoying. Sana followed after me as I was headed their way. I spotted Wonwoo next to his motorbike and walked towards him, catching his attention when I got nearby. He grinned at me and opened his arms once I was next to him, pulling me in a big hug.

“Hello, beautiful.” I smiled and pulled back, kissing his cheek. His friends got quiet and I faced them, waving at everyone. They greeted me back and I glanced at Sana before clearing my throat.

“This is Sana,” I introduced her to everyone, and starting from our left started introducing the boys, “That’s Minghao, Vernon, Soonyoung and Jeonghan.”

“Nice to meet you!” Sana smiled and the boys quickly greeted her, Minghao shaking her hand and introducing himself individually too. I chuckled and looked at Wonwoo who was smirking. Minghao wasn’t very interested in girls, but when he was, he made it quite obvious and Sana was a gorgeous girl. Jeonghan was smirking to our right as he watched me and I noticed, so I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Looking quite ravishing, Y/N.” Jeonghan said in a flirty tone and I felt Wonwoo’s arm tightening around my shoulders. Jeonghan was quite flirty, even with me. I used to think he was annoying, but after getting to know him better, I realized he flirted even with his guy friends, I figured it’s just the way he was. Besides, he was no threat when it came to Wonwoo, I was too in love with my boyfriend to find any other guy interesting enough. Sometimes I wished Wonwoo understood that too and stopped being jealous, but I figured he was just the possessive type.

“Thank you, interesting choice of outfit, Jeonghan.” I commented, making Soonyoung laugh as he pushed off his bike. I glanced at him but he was avoiding eye contact, still.

“Who dresses up as a cat, Jeonghan?” Soonyoung teased but Jeonghan just shrugged and pushed his long hair behind his shoulders.

“I do, why? Are you falling in love with me?” Jeonghan started leaning towards Soonyoung who flicked him off and grabbed his backpack off his bike.

“Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically and Minghao smiled, speaking up.

“Are we going in then?”

“Yes, let’s go!” Vernon said with excitement lacing his voice and I nodded, sighing quietly. Wonwoo noticed and looked down at me.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as we took off towards the ticket booth. I nodded and pressed a kiss against his lips, bringing a smile on his face. He bopped our noses together before we joined the others in line, waiting to buy our tickets too.

           The night seemed to be going well, everyone was having fun. Sana and Vernon seemed to be hitting it off quite well, much to Minghao’s disappointment. Jeonghan kept giggling as Minghao continued sulking while we watched Sana and Vernon play a shooting game in order to win a pink teddy bear. Sana really wanted it, but after missing almost all targets she walked away sulkily and that’s all it took Vernon to try his luck, and he seemed to be doing really well.

“Does our little Vernon have a new crush?” It was the first time in a while Soonyoung addressed me directly and I looked at him surprised. Was he done ignoring me and avoiding me?

“Who knows, but I don’t blame him.” I said with a shrug and Soonyoung looked at me.

“Good for him, she never liked me.” Soonyoung sounded a little bitter and it made me remember that Wonwoo and Mina once were together, of course Soonyoung and Sana knew each other. But I didn’t know he was into her…much like he was into Yerim as well. Interesting pattern, I thought to myself as my eyebrows lightly furrowed. Soonyoung seemed to notice and he cleared his throat, looking off in the distance.

“Do you want some cotton candy?” He asked as he took out his wallet.

“No, thank you, Wonwoo is buying some caramel popcorn for us.” I declined nicely and Soonyoung nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before walking off to the cotton candy booth, buying one for himself. I continued watching Vernon and Sana as they both laughed, trying their luck for another plushie, this time it was a blue shark. Wonwoo was buying popcorn not far away and Jeonghan and Minghao decided to ride a very scary looking roller-coaster. They didn’t want to come to the Haunted House with us so we agreed to meet in an hour at the Ferris-wheel as we had to wait a little for our tour at the Haunted House. They only let in around ten people at every half an hour. Chuckling at Vernon’s dramatic fail at hitting the last target, I noticed someone in my peripheral vision. The person seemed to be approaching me and as I turned my head a wide smile erupted on my lips. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was Seonghwa, my ex-boyfriend. He was my first serious boyfriend and I only had fond memories of him. We parted on friendly terms and have been civil with each other ever since. He moved away two years ago, so it was a surprise to see him here.

“Seonghwa!” I exclaimed as I ran up to him and engulfed him in a hug. He giggled and hugged me back just as tightly. He had gotten taller since the last time we saw each other. He still had that bubble gum scent, it made me giddy.

“Y/N, I would’ve never thought we’d meet here of all places!” He said with a laugh as we let go of each other and took a small step back.

“Right?!” I chuckled as we smiled widely at each other, “I didn’t even know you were back in town!”

“Yeah, it’s a brief visit, so I didn’t tell anyone.” He scratched his nape awkwardly, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here, but San and Wooyoung dragged me here because of the Haunted House.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a hot topic at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood to come, but I promised Wonwoo we’d go so…” I trailed off with a sigh and Seonghwa nodded.

“How is he?” He asked with a polite smile and I shrugged, looking around for him.

“He’s fine, just the usual.” I answered and Seonghwa nodded.

“I, uh—” He cleared his throat, “I heard what happened to Yerim. I’m very sorry for your loss. She didn’t deserve that.”

I looked away and gulped, hating that she was the topic, but I knew Seonghwa didn’t mean bad, “Thank you, she really didn’t. She was taken from us so early…”

Seonghwa gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I’m always here for you, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” His words brought a smile to my face, even after breaking up, Seonghwa was always there to support me and cheer me up until he had to move away. He was a kind soul always looking out for others, “How’s your grandma?”

“She’s the reason I’m visiting, actually, she’s not doing so well.” Seonghwa’s voice lowered and he looked down, it was my turn to offer him a reassuring pat.

“I’m sad to hear that, I hope she gets better.” Seonghwa nodded and I could hear them before seeing them. Wooyoung was almost screaming as he was telling San to let him go to the teddy bear booth. He wanted to get the blue shark Vernon lost, but San wasn’t letting him as he had spent too much money already. Seonghwa and I looked at each other before we burst out laughing.

He shook his head and sighed tiredly, “I better go and do some damage control before we get kicked out.”

I laughed and nodded, ushering him away, “When are you going to the Haunted House?”

Seonghwa glanced at his wrist watch, “In about ten minutes.”

“Oh, that’s great! Us too!” Seonghwa had an excited smile on his face as he waved at me and quickly ran up to San and Wooyoung, who were full on arguing by now. I chuckled and shook my head, but quickly jumped when someone gripped my arm.

“Who was that?” Wonwoo’s deep voice whispered in my ear and I turned to face him with a grin.

“Seonghwa!” I answered him and Wonwoo hummed as he released me and looked after Seonghwa who was now standing in between San and Wooyoung, talking and making exaggerated hand gestures. I had to laugh as I watched them. Wonwoo had known about Seonghwa, but he’s never seen him in person. Wonwoo and I started dating a few days after Seonghwa moved away.

“And those two idiots are his best friends, San and Wooyoung.” I explained to Wonwoo as he started eating our popcorn, “They are very loud, argue almost all the time and like to cause trouble. Poor Seonghwa…sometimes I pity him for having left him alone with those two devils.”

Wonwoo gave me a quick glance before he interlaced our fingers and pulled me away, walking us towards the Haunted House, “Well you’re not their mother, so I’m glad I stole you away.”

I rolled my eyes and gave Wonwoo a look, “You didn’t steal me away, dumbass, Seonghwa and I had broken up a year before I started dating you. The only thing you stole is my heart.”

My last comment brought a smug grin on Wonwoo’s lips and he kissed me before acting like nothing happened, “I love you.”

I laughed and leaned closer to him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Wonwoo looked at me from the corner of his eyes, “You did.”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head and pouted at him.

“Yes, you did.”

“How could I, everyone is so loud and you were speaking so quietly.”

“I love you.” Wonwoo said with a groan, louder this time, and I giggled as I punched his stomach playfully and grabbed some popcorn into my hands. He rolled his eyes and rested his arm around my shoulders as we spotted the others in front of the Haunted House staying in line and joined them.

            The Haunted House was a twenty-minute walk and it was quite well done. I got a good scare right as we started the tour, a killer doctor jumped in front of Wonwoo and I, and I screamed the loudest, scaring Sana and Vernon who were behind us. Wooyoung and San, who were at the front with Seonghwa, started laughing at me and I stuck my tongue out at Wooyoung. However, he got his payback when a black fake spider was dropped on his head and he almost passed out from screaming so loud, making the whole group erupt in loud laughter. Vernon seemed to like their vibes as he dragged Sana to the front to be with them and I chuckled as I looked at Wonwoo.

“San and Wooyoung can be fun people, but they tire you out very quickly.” I told my boyfriend as we walked through a very dark zone, ghostly voices coming from the speakers. I was holding his hand tightly and I could feel his shoulder grazing mine lightly.

“Did you spend a lot of time with them?” He asked curiously.

“I did,” I chuckled, remembering all the fun I used to have with them and Seonghwa, “On Friday’s we’d go to the diner and after we’d go karting, it was a lot of fun. It was a tradition of ours which was started by Wooyoung.”

“Sounds nice,” Wonwoo muttered and then I felt him squeezing my hand when we heard footsteps running behind us, “Why don’t we have something similar?”

His question made me think. I didn’t exactly know, maybe because Wonwoo didn’t invite me to hang out with his friends quite often, so I wasn’t very close to them besides Soonyoung, “I don’t know, I figured you don’t like it when I hang out with you and your friends.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo scoffed as a marionette was hung in front of us, dangling limply and I flinched, “I don’t mind you hanging out with us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him as we were partially blinded by green neon lights, “You never told me that though. And you never invited me out with you guys either…”

Wonwoo was silent as he glanced at me and stepped in front of me when a man dressed in Frankenstein ran towards us. I could hear Sana giggling in the next room and I pulled Wonwoo after me, entering the room just in time to see Wooyoung threateningly throwing punches at a skeleton and cussing at it. San was laughing loudly and Seonghwa was apologizing to the masked man as he clutched his shoulder. Sana and Vernon were watching it unfold with amusement, and I chuckled as Wonwoo and I approached them.

“What did he do this time?” I asked Seonghwa while pointing at Wooyoung, but it was San who answered me.

“The vampire jumped out of its coffin and Wooyoung punched it.” It made me laugh too as Seonghwa dragged his friend away from the skeleton before bowing at the vampire guy again. The guy just told us to go on and went back inside his coffin.

“Ah, Y/N, finally!” Wooyoung exclaimed once he saw me talking to San and ran up to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he pulled me with himself to the front. I glanced back at Wonwoo, but he just smiled and nodded, joining Vernon and Sana at the back of the group. Soonyoung and the other three people who came with us seemed to be much more ahead of us, so our little group stuck together.

“I hear you’ve been causing problems all night long, Wooyoung.” I narrowed my eyes at my friend and he chuckled, placing a hand on his chest.

“Non-sense, was it Seonghwa who told you that? You know he’s always lying and overreacting!” I chuckled as Seonghwa slapped the back of Wooyoung’s head and San glanced back at us with a grin before he opened the next door. The room was pitch black and I gulped, a bit nervous about entering it. I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t release me, he knew I hated the dark, but I still preferred being with Wonwoo right now.

“It’s good that our gang is back together.” It was San who was talking and I lightly ran into him as he stopped to wait for us. He seemed unbothered by the whole tour and was just laughing at everything and making fun of Wooyoung any chance he got.

“Yeah, I missed you.” Wooyoung said and squeezed my shoulder as I lightly held onto his hoodie, scared a bit. I knew Seonghwa was next to me, on my left, and San in front of me and the others behind, but I still felt uneasy.

“I missed you too, although you’re being a pain in the ass—”

“Am not!” Wooyoung exclaimed and soon screamed as a strong light was flashed in our faces and fake bats came flying towards us. I screamed too and ducked as I held onto my head, scared they’d get entangled into my braided hair. San was laughing as he caught one and started antagonizing Wooyoung with it, running after him as they ran into the next room. Seonghwa was quick to approach me and help me stand, but Wonwoo was by my side instantly, and the two looked at each other as each held my arm. I chuckled awkwardly and shook off their grips, standing up on my own.

“Sorry, I hate bats.” I muttered embarrassed as Vernon and Sana walked by us.

“I know.” Both boys said at the same time and I felt awkward as they looked at each other before Wonwoo cleared his throat and Seonghwa scratched his nape.

“Uhm, let’s go?” I proposed and they both nodded as we took off, Seonghwa going in front of us as I intertwined my fingers with Wonwoo, who was glaring at the back of my ex-boyfriend’s head.

“Stop it.” I whispered at Wonwoo and his jaw clenched, “Wonwoo, you know he means no harm.”

“I don’t like it when other guys touch you, Y/N.” Wonwoo snapped at me and I sighed, side eyeing him.

“Jesus, he just tried to help me up—”

“I was there already; he didn’t have to.” Wonwoo’s voice raised lightly and I stopped walking and faced him as I was sure Seonghwa could hear it all and I didn’t want to make him feel more uncomfortable.

“Can you stop acting like this? Have I given you any reason to be jealous, Wonwoo?” I called out my boyfriend and he rolled his eyes, releasing my hand.

“You have no trouble being so friendly with him.”

“Maybe because we remained friends?!” I exclaimed and Wonwoo just sighed, walking by me, “Seriously?”

“What? I’m curious what’s in the next room.” He muttered and I rolled my eyes as I followed after him. What a way to ruin the little fun I started having. I just sighed as I followed behind Wonwoo, not even interested anymore in the Haunted House and all of the different masked people jumping out in front of me, trying to scare me. Seonghwa was back at the front, San and Wooyoung pulling him in all kinds of directions as he didn’t turn around anymore, keeping his distance. I felt bad for him and reminded myself to apologize for Wonwoo’s behavior, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and Wonwoo sometimes overreacted. There were flashing lights in the room we were in currently and ghosts hung from the ceiling as people were screaming through the speakers. I sighed and shielded my eyes, the lights hurting them as I hurried towards the last door. The others were outside already and I was left behind, I didn’t notice that everyone walked out while I was getting lost in my thoughts. Just as I was about to touch the doorknob, a dressed up person jumped in front of me, blocking my way. I gasped and jumped back, eyes widening when I came face to face with a Ghostface. The person wore a black gown and a real looking knife was in its hand. My heart started racing and I started backing away from the person, getting flashbacks from the night they had shown up at my house.

“What—what are you—” The Ghostface chuckled and slowly approached me.

“I’m a Ghostface.” The voice was still as glitchy, but lower than the one I had talked to on the phone, “Hello, beautiful.”

I shuddered at the words and gulped, “Who are you?”

The person behind the mask chuckled and twirled around, “An actor? Hired by the Haunted House?”

My heart was racing, but their words seemed to calm me down a little bit. Of course, we were at the Haunted House and this person was an actor hired to scare people. And they did a good job at scaring me.

“Right, sorry—” I chuckled, “You gave me a good scare.”

“That’s my job.” The Ghostface bowed and I smiled, “Did you enjoy the tour?”

“Are you this nice and talkative with everyone?” I raised my eyebrows as I held my hands behind my back. The Ghostface started circling me, making me turn my head to see them.

“Only with the beautiful ones.” They answered and I rolled my eyes, not into cheesy flirting.

“How cheesy.” I muttered and the Ghostface seemed to laugh as they came to a stop in front of me. It looked as they looked down before raising their head back up and I saw the knife glinting in the dim light as it lightly touched my chin and they raised my head with it. The air caught in my throat a little as I felt the sturdiness of the knife. It was either a very real looking and feeling prop or it was a real knife.

“And tell me…do you like bad guys?” The Ghostface asked smugly and I laughed nervously.

“Not really.”

“Isn’t your boyfriend a bad boy?” Well, that’s not how I’d describe Wonwoo if someone asked me. He looked like a bad boy, but he was actually a very nice and loving guy.

“Not really,” I chuckled and quietly let out a sigh when the person lowered the knife from my chin, “He’s well raised and really nice.”

“And do you love him?” Wasn’t this Ghostface a little too curious?

“Of course I do.” I said matter of factly and the Ghostface hummed just as the door opened. Light poured in from the outside and I squinted until the door was closed again. I instantly recognized the person once my eyes adjusted to the light again, it was Seonghwa.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked worriedly as he walked up to me, “I saw you weren’t with the group and nobody knew where you were.”

I smiled at him sweetly and nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just fell behind accidentally and Ghostface over there seemed to be quite interested.”

Seonghwa looked over to where the Ghostface stood and his eyebrows furrowed, “Oh? They didn’t show up when we walked through this room.”

I turned to look at the Ghostface as well and I gulped as dread washed over me, slowly realizing what was happening, “Seonghwa—” But before I could scream at him to run, the Ghostface charged at us and I yelped as they pushed me to the ground and pinned Seonghwa to the wall. I watched wide eyed as Seonghwa struggled against them and as I got to my feet, I saw the Ghostface raise their knife. My heart stopped for a second and I didn’t even realize I had screamed as the knife slashed Seonghwa’s abdomen. He cried out in pain and the Ghostface stepped back a bit as he angled their knife at Seonghwa’s stomach. I was shaking, but I couldn’t just sit on the ground and watch as they murder my ex-boyfriend.

“Y/N, run!” Seonghwa exclaimed as the Ghostface poked his stomach, but I was fast enough and got up in time and ran over, knocking the Ghostface aside. They gasped in surprise and I could feel their gaze burning into me through the mask. I turned to face Seonghwa and with shaky hands caught him as he slid down the wall.

“No, Seonghwa!” I exclaimed, hand getting bloody as I pressed it against his smaller wound, momentarily not knowing what to do.

“Get out!” Seonghwa whispered as he grimaced in pain, pulling out his phone. I turned around and came face to face with the Ghostface, gasping at the proximity. I didn’t know who was behind the mask, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I punched their shoulder and took the knife out of their hand, throwing it on the ground as I started punching their abdomen. The Ghostface groaned and tried catching my hands, struggling to do so until they had me pinned against the wall. I tried fighting myself out of their hold, but they were stronger.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” The Ghostface said breathlessly and I glared at them, kneeling them, making them double over.

“You shouldn’t have hurt my friends!” I screamed and kneeled them in the stomach this time, sending the person onto the ground. I ran back to Seonghwa and saw him trying to call the cops, but there was no signal inside.

“Let’s go.” I whispered and tried to control my shaking as I attempted to help Seonghwa stand, but just as he warned me, I was tackled to the ground. I screamed again, and suddenly, a hand was muffling my screams. A bare hand. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. My heart was beating like crazy and I felt a tear run down my cheeks when I noticed the Ghostface holding the knife again. Was I about to die too? But they didn’t move, we were just staring at each other. The hold on my mouth seemed to loosen and I glanced down at it, heart jumping in my throat when I noticed two long, red scratches on the person’s hand. Why did they look like cat scratches? Why did their hand feel like Wonwoo’s? A groan to our right got both of our attention and I saw Seonghwa approaching us, almost stumbling, but as the Ghostface got off of me, Seonghwa swung his fist at the person’s jaw, sending them stumbling into the wall. I got up and grabbed Seonghwa, placing his arm around my shoulders as I held his hip and we made a run for the exit. He was groaning in pain but still remained strong as we could hear the Ghostface shuffling around and catching up with us, but just as I felt them gripping onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, I kicked the door open, light flooding the room. Everyone was standing there, waiting for us probably, and when they saw the blood coating Seonghwa’s torso and my hands, chaos erupted. Wooyoung ran up to us in despair and started shouting things, asking what happened as I yelled out for them to call an ambulance. Vernon rushed up to us and helped Wooyoung as they took Seonghwa’s weight off of me and carefully placed him on a nearby bench as San called for an ambulance. Sana was by my side instantly and I realized my whole body was shaking as I looked around for familiar faces. She was talking to me, but I was searching for one person. Jeonghan and Minghao looked shocked as they stood helplessly by the bench, watching Seonghwa struggling to stay awake. Wooyoung was freaking out and San was holding onto him tightly as they talked to Seonghwa, trying to divert his attention from the pain. Vernon was trying to stop the bleeding as his father is a doctor and he knows this and that. Soonyoung was off to the side, looking almost sick yet unimpressed as he talked on the phone with someone. And Sana was hugging me tightly, saying reassuring things to me which I was unable to hear due to my ears ringing. Wonwoo. Wonwoo wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I gulped and hugged Sana back, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance. Wonwoo wasn’t here with us.

           My mother was reluctant to let me go to school the next day, understandably so. I barely got any sleep after last night’s incident. As Seonghwa was placed inside the ambulance and driven to a hospital, two detectives approached the rest of us and started their questioning. We were brought to the side separately and asked to retell our whole night. Of course, I was the one they questioned first as they knew I was inside with Seonghwa when the attack happened. I was shaken up and on the verge of crying, but surprisingly, Wooyoung and San stood by my side and tried to cheer me up until my mother got to us. After finishing my retelling of story, I walked to the side and sat down, curling into a ball as I felt arms holding me. It was Sana and she remained quiet as she tried to offer me some support. I appreciated her gesture, but I would’ve preferred being left alone at the moment. My mind was swirling with questions and I was frightened out of my mind. Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen and I couldn’t help but think he was the one behind the mask. Could it really be my boyfriend? The killer? I bit my lower lip at the thought and my head whipped up as I heard Wonwoo’s deep voice, laced with terror and panic as he was asking around for me. Just as we made eye contact, the two detectives stepped in front of him and brought him aside to question him as well. I could feel his gaze on me, but my mother had arrived and she was by my side in an instant, helping me up and she gave me tightest hug ever. I started crying when I felt her arms around me and she quietly shushed me, thanking Sana for sitting with me. She noticed San and Wooyoung too, nodding at them as a small greeting before she walked me towards her car. I didn’t talk to Wonwoo that night, but perhaps it was good, because I had no idea what I could’ve said to him.

Mom insisted on driving me to school this morning and I didn’t object; I wasn’t in the mood to ride the bus and act as if I didn’t feel my classmates burning gazes. I knew everyone would whisper about me again. I hated this all. I hated the killer. I hated that Yerim wasn’t here. And I hated the fact that I was helpless and couldn’t help a person who once was so dear to me. Thankfully, Seonghwa got to the hospital in time as he was losing blood fast and since he was stabilized quite quickly, he’d survive. I asked my mother to stop by his ward from time to time, to check up on him. She complied happily and told me she’d update me; I was really thankful. Before getting out of her car, I kissed my mother’s cheek, making her smile sadly at me. I had dark bags underneath my eyes and despite tying my hair up, it looked like a mess. I felt miserable, and I looked miserable. The baggy clothes weren’t helping much to offer me comfort, all I could do was sigh and pull the hood of my hoodie over my head and walk to my classroom. Everyone seemed to have eagle eyes, because as soon as I opened the entrance door, people noticed me. Some started instantly whispering, there were a few who were ignoring me or stepping out of my way as if I would hurt them, some would stop conversing and stare at me like I was some sort of freak. I hung my head low and walked up to my locker, opening it to place my backpack inside it. I sighed as I got my science book and two notebooks out, off to walk to my classroom. Sana texted me that she wasn’t feeling well and she wouldn’t attend school today, apologizing for leaving me alone. I didn’t text her back, but I appreciated her letting me know. Surprisingly it was San and Wooyoung who approached me as I was walking up the stairs.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I heard San asking me and I raised my head, eyes wide.

“Oh, I didn’t see you—” Wooyoung had a warm smile on his lips and I looked back down at the ground, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Us neither.” Wooyoung muttered and San cleared his throat, “We visited Seonghwa before coming to school.”

“How is he?” I asked quickly, looking back up at the two boys.

“He’s in pain, but he’s doing good despite that huge cut—” San elbowed Wooyoung and I gulped, averting my eyes from them, “I mean, he’s fine, don’t worry. He asked us to tell you that he’s grateful you saved him and he hopes you’ll visit him when you feel ready.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded at the two boys wordlessly, “Thank you.”

“No problem, you know where to find us.” San smiled and bumped his shoulder with mine lightly as we got to my floor, they had to go up one more flight of stairs. I nodded at them and they waved as they took off. I sighed and took off too, headed towards my classroom, the hallway not as packed as downstairs. A few students glanced at me but seemed to ignore me mostly, it made me feel slightly better. Not too good, but at least they weren’t staring or whispering. As I looked up, I suddenly froze. Wonwoo. He was standing next to my classroom’s door, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he was biting his lip, looking anxious. I gulped and slowly approached him, wary still. His head turned and when he noticed me he pushed off the wall and approached me, instantly pulling me into a hug. I felt tears in my eyes as I buried my head in his chest and Wonwoo rubbed my back up and down. I grabbed his jacket and tried to keep silent as I started crying, scared and confused. How could I think it was Wonwoo? My loving boyfriend. I was so scared something happened to him. But why was he not outside when everybody else was?

“I’m so glad—” Wonwoo’s voice was low and raspy, as if he had been screaming all night long, “I’m so glad you’re alright. I was so scared—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from that criminal, I—”

“Where were you?” I found myself whispering, desperately needing an answer to this one question only.

Wonwoo remained silent before he sighed, “I caught up with Soonyoung and then I went to the bathroom, when I got back everything had already happened—”

“Okay,” I whispered and sniffed, pulling my head back to look at him, “Don’t blame yourself. I’m fine and Seonghwa will recover.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched and as I was looking up at him, my eyes fell on his jawline. There was a small bruise forming, slightly greenish already. My eyebrows furrowed and I felt my heart starting to beat fast. Seonghwa—he punched the Ghostface in the jaw, same exact location, before we ran out. I gulped, hands slightly shaking, as I took Wonwoo’s right hand and interlaced our fingers, bringing it up to my eye level. Wonwoo watched me wordlessly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. I maintained eye contact as I brought his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss against it. And just before lowering it, I glanced down, and my blood ran cold. There. On his hand. Red scratches which Byeol left on him when they were playing. His hand, bare. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. I shivered and stepped back, releasing his hand as I tried to act nonchalant. Wonwoo watched me confused as I stumbled over my words.

“I—I have to go—” I opened the classroom door, avoiding eye contact, “I’m late.”

“Y/N—” But I stepped inside the classroom and slammed the door shut, biting my lower lip, whole body shaking as I approached my desk and sat down. It was Wonwoo last night. Right? Was it really him? What do I do?

           My mother tried to switch her shifts with a nurse she was friends with, but she couldn’t make it. She didn’t want to take the night shift tonight, worried to leave me home alone, but I reassured her I would be fine. In fact, I felt like shit and didn’t want to be alone, but remained silent and decided to have a Harry Potter marathon, that way I wouldn’t fall asleep and could wait for my mother to return home in the morning. It was a Friday, so it would work out. I desperately needed a good sleep, but I could deal with that later. I cooked some dinner for myself and played with Byeol, but after she got bored and went to sleep in my room, I decided to take a shower and start the movie marathon. I definitely lost track of time while showering, because my phone kept ringing, but I didn’t feel like answering. My mother would never call me while working, so I knew it was Wonwoo. But I didn’t want to talk to him. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know what to believe anymore. He couldn’t be the killer, but some signs were pointing at him and it was eating me up alive. I was scared and confused. My gut told me to sleep on it and ask him tomorrow, but for some reason staying away from him felt most comforting. Getting out of the shower I got dressed in sweatpants and Yerim’s favorite pink hoodie, eyeing Wonwoo’s sweater resting on my chair. He left it here when he slept over and told me to keep it until he’d sleep over again. Brushing my fingers against it as I towel dried my hair with one hand, I shivered. Its scent once brought comfort, but now I felt uncomfortable. Byeol was sitting on my bed and for once it wasn’t storming outside, I was thankful. Just as I placed my towel on my desk, my phone rang again. I sighed and walked up to it as it was charging on my nightstand, and despite expecting it to be Wonwoo calling, it was an unknown number. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart started racing as I remembered the time when I spoke with the Ghostface on Yerim’s phone. I took my phone and walked to the window, looking through the curtain.

“Hello?” I asked as I picked up the call, chewing on my lip. There was some heavy breathing on the other side, freaking me out.

“Hi.” I froze for a second as the Ghostface’s robotic voice came through the phone. What did they want? Were they here to kill me? The thought sent panic through my body and I quickly made sure my window was locked before pulling down the blinds as well.

“What do you want?” I demanded, voice shaking but still harsh.

The Ghostface chuckled, “You gone.”

I shuddered as tears suddenly sprung into my eyes, “You killed Yerim, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Was their answer and I sniffed, wiping away a tear as I raced down the stairs, to make sure all doors were locked.

“Why?”

“Multiple reasons,” The Ghostface sighed as I checked the front door, “One, she was always rude to me. Two, she never gave me a chance and the list just goes on, Y/N.”

“So you killed her.” I said accusingly, checking the door in the living room as well. It wasn’t locked, but I locked it now and pulled the curtains closed as well.

“Well she pissed me off to my last nerve, didn’t have much off a choice—”

“You don’t kill someone because they piss you off!” I screamed into the phone, shaking and fuming. How could they?! Kill someone because they pissed them off?! This is not how life works.

“I do.” The Ghostface laughed and I felt like screaming.

“What do you want?” I repeated, body shaking from anger and fear too.

“To kill you, honestly, I’ve had enough of you too.” I gulped and turned by back to the door, walking back outside in the hallway.

“I won’t go down easy.” I muttered and the Ghostface just laughed.

“A fragile girl can’t do much damage to me, sweetheart.” They said and I chuckled sarcastically.

“You’ll have to wait for another night then, you can’t come in if the doors and windows are all locked.”

“They are locked, now.” I froze, heart thumping fast, “But they weren’t until you locked the one in the living room just minutes ago.”

The voice now didn’t come through the phone only, they were here. Inside. Close. Too close. Shakingly, I slowly turned towards the kitchen entrance, and screamed. The same person from the Haunted House was standing in the doorway of my kitchen. Black gown and a Ghostface mask, glows, and a sharp knife in their hand. The Ghostface laughed, dropping the phone as it took off towards me and I panicked, showing the phone in the hoodie’s pocket as I started running, headed for the laundry room. I quickly entered and locked the door, whimpering when the person started pounding on it. Why did they want to kill me? What did I do? Who was behind the mask? As I reached for my phone to call the police, the pounding stopped, the sudden silence making me jump. Did they leave already?

“If you don’t come out, I’ll start with Byeol.” I whimpered and covered my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks at the thought of the person killing my cat. How did they know her name? I couldn’t let them kill her, she was my everything, “I’m headed to find her—”

“Stop!” I screamed and gripped the doorknob, “I’ll come out, just don’t hurt her.”

The Ghostface laughed and I heard them grumbling, “Stupid people with love for their stupid animals.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, readying myself to face the criminal on the other side of the door. If I had to die tonight, then I would. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I was feeling extremely hot in the hoodie, but it was Yerim’s, and all of a sudden, a wave of bravery washed over me as if Yerim was telling me that I could do it, that I could survive. If she believed in me, then I could believe in myself too. Wiping my stray tears away, I unlocked the door. The click of it seemed to be so loud in the silence, and with shaking hands, I pushed open the door. It opened very slowly and I held onto the doorknob tightly. There it was. The Ghostface, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t see their face, but I could swear they were smirking. I was glaring at them, breathing hard as I released the doorknob.

“There you are.” They said in a sing song voice, suddenly raising their knife. It was my cue to run off. And so I did just that, I took off, and ran towards the kitchen. The only problem was that it had no doors and two entrances. My goal was to get the Ghostface to follow me outside, far away from my cat and close enough to other people to see and call the cops for me. Their loud thumping made it obvious enough that they were following me and I stopped in front of the sink, the counter putting distance between us. Nobody said anything, we just stared each other down. My muscles were tense and I felt the adrenaline kicking in, making my shaking even worse. Before the Ghostface could react, I took off again, running for the door. I barely got in the doorway, when a hand gripped my hair and I was hauled back. I cried out in pain and quickly groaned as I was thrown on the floor.

“Yerim screamed a lot more than you, you know?” The Ghostface taunted and I sneered at them as I got up, getting backed into the wall. What could I do? Take their knife would be an option. The Ghostface raised the knife and lightly grazed it against my neck, making me gasp. I was breathing through my mouth, barely able to think of my next move. They raised their other hand and gripped my neck, pulling our faces close to each other.

“But you both seem to be just as dumb—” And just like that I headbutted them. I didn’t wait for them to finish the sentence or plunge the knife in my stomach. The person stumbled backwards and dropped their knife in shock. What a dumb move. I reacted faster and picked it up in a flash, pointing it at them.

“How does it feel to have your own weapon pointed at you?” I hissed and the Ghostface groaned, starting to stomp their feet. Were they seriously throwing a tantrum right now? I watched confused, but stayed alert.

“You’re not ruining my fun tonight, Y/N!” They screamed and charged at me. The smart thing to do would’ve been running away and out of the house, but I froze. If I had the knife, could they still kill me? Of course, there were many ways to do that, but my brain went blank. And just last second, I dropped the knife, scared to stab anyone. I wasn’t a killer; I couldn’t do it. The Ghostface grabbed my neck and started squeezing it, but I was fighting back. I wasn’t about to die. I tried pushing him backwards, and it was working. The Ghostface was muttering things I couldn’t understand, but I stumbled and stepped on their long gown. The person tripped over my leg and before I knew it, their hands were gone from my neck and they were falling backwards. I gasped and watched as the person hit their head on the edge of the counter and fell to the floor limply. I stood shocked, not knowing what to do. They weren’t moving anymore, I carefully pushed their leg with my foot, but they didn’t react. I approached them, heart racing and forehead sweaty as I leaned down and touched the mask. I had to know. I had to know who killed my best friend, Mina, Seungkwan and tried to kill Seonghwa and now me. So, without thinking for another second, I ripped the mask off. I felt my body going numb at the sight, ears ringing as I stared down at the blond laying unconsciously on my kitchen floor. My lips started trembling and my body started shaking more violently as I clutched the mask tightly, hand hurting from the force. Kwon Soonyoung lay unconscious in front of me. Blood was slowly seeping from underneath his head. How could it be him? I started crying loudly and threw the Ghostface mask on the floor, stomping on it and screaming. How could he kill Yerim?! How could he! In all the ruckus and screaming, Byeol woke up and her loud meows were the ones which brought me back to reality. She was staying away, gazing at me with her big eyes, meowing loudly. I was sobbing and started walking towards her, when the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Knocking. Panicked screaming. Asking to be let inside. The voice of my boyfriend. Jeon Wonwoo. My boyfriend. Acting without much thinking, I ran up to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. Wonwoo was panting and he gasped when he saw me. I flung myself into his body, hugging him tightly and crying loudly. He hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me and slowly walking me inside the house, closing the door behind us. I was crying, I couldn’t do anything else. Soonyoung killed my best friend because she didn’t like him back. Because she didn’t want to date him. Who kills for a reason like that! I couldn’t hear Byeol meowing anymore, Wonwoo was caressing my head and kissing it softly, muttering words to calm me down. I found my breath again and pulled away, finding comfort in his arms. He was here. He was here to witness it all. He was here to take Byeol and I away from this nightmare.

“He—he did—it.” I stuttered out, body shaking, “Soonyoung. He killed—everyone.”

Wonwoo’s face went blank as he looked towards the kitchen entrance, but the only thing he could see from here was the destroyed Ghostface mask on the floor. His grip seemed to loosen around me as he looked back at me.

“Soonyoung killed Yerim, Wonwoo.” I whispered as I wiped my tears away, “He killed Mina and—”

“He didn’t kill Mina.” Wonwoo’s voice was void of any emotion. I shivered, “He didn’t try to kill Seonghwa either.”

I shook my head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What—what are you saying? He’s the criminal, he—” I winced when Wonwoo’s grip suddenly turned painful on my arms, and I stepped back. His bruise on his jaw was now a dark blue, it looked like it hurt a lot. The cat scratches on his hand were still red.

“You—” I gasped and slapped his hands away, taking a step back, “You killed—Mina and Seonghwa—”

“I failed to kill that bastard, but it’s not too late yet.” I started shaking my head, feeling like my whole world was ending.

“What are you saying, Wonwoo—” Suddenly he was all up in my face, holding my chin roughly as he made me look him in the eyes. His expression scared me. His eyes were almost black and manic as he stared into mine. His lips were curled into an amused sneer and all warmth had disappeared from his aura. This wasn’t Wonwoo. This wasn’t my boyfriend. This was someone else. Someone I didn’t know and was scared off.

“I killed Mina. I tried to kill Seonghwa and now—” His pause made me gulp, his voice was quiet when he continued, “I have to kill you too.”

I whimpered and started shaking my head, gripping his wrist, “No, Wonwoo—Listen to me, you’re not like this, I can—”

“How would you know what I am like when I never allowed you to see the real me?” His words felt like someone dropped a cold ice bucket on me, numbness washed over my whole body. Was it all fake? All this time? Everything between us?

“Did you ever love me?” I found myself whispering, it was the least important thing to know right now, but I had to know.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.” I sniffled, heart breaking and head spinning. Before I could react in any way, Wonwoo’s lips crashed against mine. I was disgusted, I didn’t want to be kissing him. But I couldn’t help myself. I still loved him despite his terrible confession. Despite him saying he wanted to kill me, I still loved him. So I kissed him back with the same fire he was kissing me, our lips crashing against each other’s messily, painfully. Maybe it was our last goodbye, maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t know what this kiss meant, until I felt Wonwoo’s hands around my neck and my eyes flew open. He was squeezing me, not allowing an ounce of air into my lungs. I tried pulling my head back, but he wasn’t letting me. He was still kissing me, but I couldn’t do the same. I clawed at his arms, gripping his wrists and yanking on them but he wasn’t budging. I started seeing black and I felt like throwing up, finally, Wonwoo’s lips left mine and I tried gasping for air but it wasn’t working. I tried talking, but it wasn’t working. I was going to die. In Yerim’s favorite hoodie, by the hands of my once lover. My grip fell from Wonwoo’s wrists and I felt my legs giving out, body limp. I didn’t want to die, I really didn’t. Not like this. I had no power, yet something so strong, as if someone knocked the last gust of wind out of my lungs, gave me the power to raise my knee and kneel Wonwoo in the groins. It might’ve been weak, but Wonwoo yelped loudly and released me, my body falling to the ground. I started coughing and gasping, holding my burning neck as my head hung low. My lungs were on fire and my eyes filled with tears as I filled my lungs desperately with air. Wonwoo was doubled over, groaning and hissing in pain. Perhaps I could escape him. Walk around him and out the door. So I tried, I got up from the ground, legs almost buckling, but I tried. I started walking, catching Wonwoo’s attention as his head whipped up and he reached for me, but I stepped back. He was starting to straighten up, still groaning, realizing I was getting better. I barely had any power, but I was starting to breathe again. He lunged for me and I realized walking in the kitchen was my best escape right now. So, I entered and my eyes fell on an unconscious Soonyoung, making me shudder again. I tried to run, but my legs felt heavy. I went to walk around the counter and grab a knife, but Wonwoo grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. The knife Soonyoung was holding was in his hands now. I shook my head at him and begged him to let me go. We couldn’t figure this out, but he had to let me go. If he loved me, he would’ve done that. But he didn’t want to. The knife was angled at my stomach and I took a deep breath, turning my hand into a fist. I had no power left in me anymore, this was my last shot at life. So, as Wonwoo raised the knife to stab me, I punched his jaw, just where Seonghwa had punched him yesterday, and grabbed the knife with my other hand out of his. He groaned loudly and looked at me with an animalistic look in his eyes. The knife was pointed at him and one move sealed the deal. I guess he didn’t notice I pointed the knife at him as he ran straight into it. We gasped at the same time and stared at each other wide eyed. I didn’t want to do this, but he gave me no other choice. I released the knife and watched as Wonwoo fell to his knees, starting to cry. He was begging me for forgiveness and asking me to love him, but I couldn’t hear him. My ears were ringing.

“Byeol! Byeol!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs, throat scratchy from getting chocked. I heard a faint meow coming from the living room and ran inside, looking for my cat, “Byeol, please come here!”

And she showed up, she crawled out from underneath the sofa and ran up to me, coming into my arms as I picked her up. I shushed her and ran towards the front door, not sparing another glance inside the kitchen as I grabbed my phone from Yerim’s hoodie’s pocket. I stumbled off the stairs on the porch as I started getting light headed, but I managed to dial the police.

“112, what’s your emergency?”

Masterlist

#bvidzsoo #caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen oneshot #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo pairing #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo angst #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo smut #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #joshua hong #wen junhui #kwon soonyoung #jeon wonwoo #lee jihoon #lee seokmin #kim mingyu #xu minghao #boo seungkwan #hansol vernon chwe #lee chan #seventeen ot13 #seventeen ghostface au #seventeen highschool au

[the-fiction-witch]

Just the Three of Us

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty + Mild Smutty

I sang myself a little melody as I worked, needle between my fingers the thread bound around it tight and the thread unwinding slowly from the spool on the table. Cold blood painted my hands straining my nails and fingertips. My skirt was around me snuggly trying not to get blood on it but I'm sure I would at some point, My shirt sleeves were forced and balled up high in the hope of preserving my sleeves from the blood. The only sound was my delicate singing barely forming words, my voice bouncing off the cold stone walls, the gentle sound every so often of carts and horses passing outside visible only with the tall windows out to the street, and some sounds of beds and chairs being moved in the hospital above me. The one light hung above where I worked as the body of Mr Ashwood laid on the table, he had come in a few days ago complaining of... well frankly I don't know what he was complaining of, I hadn't heard. But he had passed away in the days between so now I was here to sew it together and prep his body ready to be taken and buried in the spot his family had chosen for him. 

I rather enjoyed being down here in the morgue, as dark as that would seem a place for a young lady to be comfortable. But I don't know something to... peaceful down here.

I will say, my assistant didn't help. 

Well, I say assistant... Tag along.

When I first came to tend to the body, A certain... someone, Tagged along. It had begun innocently with him simply standing over the body with me and explaining the work they had already done in surgery that I would now need to avoid, slowly but surely he had grown closer, his hands settled on my waist, his head moved to my neck breathing down on me, until we reached the state we stood in now.

His hands on my waist his fingers pressing into my corset bones, his body pressed up against my own, his head in my neck often making contact with the cotton of my shirt, making the only other sound that echoed around the stone morgue walls the familiar smack of a kiss against my shirt.

I wasn't frightened or annoyed, I mean I'm mildly bemused by him but that tends to be my typical reaction to him. As this was a fairly normal occurrence, I was often down here dealing with bodies and Jack was often down here... I assume because I was. That and hiding down here got him out of work he didn't want to do. And today was no exception, he had come down with me I think half to see me and half to avoid working, and somewhat just for some attention. Which I wasn't giving to him, I was far too busy. 

The issue is I think somewhere in Jack's mind my wording of the phrase 'Right I'm off to the morgue to sort this body,' gets lost and arrives in his mind as 'Take your pants off I'll be in the morgue' or something else equally as inviting. But I suppose a lot of the things I say probably sound inviting to him, I know every time I even mention the storage cupboard he jumps up like a bloody six-year-old hearing the word ice cream. But the storage cupboard had been a place we had not much visited lately as we had been too many close calls there recently. But here in the morgue was still safe at least for now. 

His kisses grew more passionate leaving a trail of kisses up and down my neck, which made me roll my eyes a little. 

"Pray tell, there a reason your slobbering all over me Dr Dawkins?"

He chuckled in his sly way, "Becuase I've missed you," he whispered in my ear, "Haven't you missed me too? Hmmm?" He asked rubbing the tip of his nose down my exposed neck, 

"I have missed you, But you don't see me coming up to you where you're working and trying to bite you like a bloody vampire, now do you?"

"Only because it would get us caught," he smirked, 

"You could at least help Jack,"

"I am helping,"

"Yourself."

"I'm helping. I'm keeping you company."

"I have plenty of company, organs and bones what other company do I need?" I laughed, "Also what happened to his liver?"

"Sneed took it."

"Why?"

"You ask him," He shrugged, 

"Isn't that the fourth one he's taken?"

"Sixth actually."

"Why?"

"He's... doing something I don't know." 

"I can always tell between you."

"Can you? What Mine are alive?" he chuckled,

"Not always." I laughed playfully batting his head with my own "No I can though, look at this. You'd think he was cutting with a bloody butter knife."

"Hummm" He chuckled giving me more kisses,

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

"Speak Jack or I'll cut your tongue out," I warn,

"Bloody."

"Yes?"

"What would your father say he heard you uttering such language?" he laughed, "You never used to talk like that till you met me."

"Ohh you think that you're rubbing off on me?"

"No, I can do it if you want me too?" he smirked pushing his hips against my own so much it made me hit the table, 

"Excuse you?" I warned "You shall not be rubbing off on me you dirty little wombat," 

"Of course, I do apologize," he said, "I'll just have to fuck you instead then?" He smirked holding my hips tight and thrusting his hips into my own until he pinned me against the table and started to board-line hump me 

"Oi!" I complained, "I. am. busy." I reminded him trying to get his hands off I did manage to move them from my hips for a few seconds and in response, he grabbed my breasts "Jack!" I yelped forcing his hands off "Would you kindly take your penis elsewhere Dr Dawkins." I complained and the moment I set my needle down a moment he simply lifted me

"Up we go little lady"

"Ahhh Jack!" I squealed and sat me down on the empty table beside where I was working and quickly standing between my legs 

"Come on, you know you want to as badly as I do" he smirked "And how often do we get time just the two of us?" he smirked rubbing his nose on the bridge of mine 

"It's not just the two of us." I glared, he looked confused so I glanced back to the table I had been working at and the body that lay on it, he glanced back but smirked at me 

"I'm sure he won't mind," He smirked, pulling me to his lips, I wanted to argue with him but I melted very quickly wrapping my arms around him sitting my elbows on his shoulders as it did not coat him in blood as we passionately kissed he was the hungrier of our kiss but I kept up with him as much as I could the two of us kissing for what could have been an hour with no sign of letting up, his hands found there way up my skirt stroking my thighs suggestively so I wrapped my legs around him locking my ankles at the base of his back as our kisses got even more intense our gasps the only sound other than the clacking of our lips. 

I heard the door and immediately pulled back much to Jack's frustration but he saw the door, as Tim stood having come to collect the body, he saw us and of course what we were doing. "I uhhh I'll come back later." He said quickly turning around and shutting the door behind him, 

I sighed in relief it was only Tim, someone who already was well aware of what me and Jack I got up to and not someone who would have caused us to get into trouble, like Prof, or Sneed, or Christ my father! 

"So? Where were we?" Jack smirked trying to get back to our kiss

"We can't, if Tim found anyone could, we have to stop." I told him pushing him away and getting back to work "Besides I need to finish this body up." I said but before I had even picked the damn need up 

"Nope, off we go little lady." He smirked picking me up in his arms I again squealed but he ignored me 

"ahhhhh jack!" I whined, "Where are you taking me!"

"To bed. where that bossy little butt belongs" He smirked... 

#tbs smut #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #drdawkins

[writing-the-stars]

Girls Night

Pairing: Klaus x Fem!Reader, Rebekah x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Pining after Klaus Mikaelson for twenty years has left you absolutely heartbroken. All Rebekah wants to do is alleviate your pain.

Warnings: A Little Bit of Angst, Excessive Drinking (Both of Blood and Alcohol), An Act of Typical Vampire Diaries of Violence. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the Klaus Mikaelson WIP that I promised you all. Don’t worry there will be a part two, so be on the lookout for that! Also, just for the sake of clarity, reader is a Heretic in this one. Thank you always for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day! Here is the link to the song used in this imagine

Masterlist | TVDU Masterlist

You miserably sit at the foot of your bed in the Mikaelson Compound, a pout resting on your lips as you use your vampiric hearing to eavesdrop on Klaus’s conversation with his latest conquest. You tended to be grateful for the enhanced abilities becoming a vampire granted you, loving the advantages, but on days like this, you cursed your gifts. 

Klaus Mikaelson is a man well known for his charm– his long list of lovers over his thousand years supporting that fact. Despite your better judgment, you fell for that seductive nature, just like every other misguided girl on his list. It was bound to happen with all the time the two of you spent together over the last century. It honestly did not come as a shock to you, you just wish you had the same effect on him as he does on you.

For two decades now, you've watched with green-eyed envy as Klaus has brought home his collection of women, wooing and seducing them– a piece of your heart breaking every time. Your head knew that you should let him go and move on, but your heart remained adamant that he was the one for you. You couldn’t free yourself from the burden of his unrequited love even if you tried, and oh how you tried. You once went as far as Australia to attempt at getting him out of your head, but you always found yourself right back in New Orleans. You were drawn to him, connected by some invisible force that pulled you closer every time you'd try to leave. 

Rebekah watches you with sad eyes, propped against your doorway as she sees how her brother's libertine behavior is tearing you apart. With you being her best– and one of her few– friends, it upset the youngest Mikaelson to see you so distraught, especially over her bastard brother. But there was nothing that could be done about it, Rebekah knew that better than anyone. The only thing that could alleviate your pain was the man who was causing it.

"You know, it helps if you don't listen," Rebekah informs you, making her presence known. You startle, having been so engrossed with Klaus that you had not heard her arrival. A defeated sigh exits your lips, knowing she's right, but you just couldn't help yourself. Even though you know the pain that comes along with it, you want to hear all the romantic words leaving Klaus's lips. You want to hear if there is a difference in the way he speaks to her than with the other girls. You want to know if Klaus is falling in love.

However, when the conversation turns into something more passionate, you can no longer bear to listen– an uncontrolled heartbroken sob escaping your lips. Rebekah speeds over to you, wrapping you up in her arms as you sob into her chest, supporting the weight of your emotions. She brushes her fingers through your hair gently as she sends a multitude of curses towards her older brother for putting you through so much heartache.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. Niklaus Mikaelson is not worth your tears," she tells you, a sad smile painted on her lips. "Let's get out of here," she offers, lifting your chin up with her slender fingers, "I’ve suffered through many heartbreaks myself and I know the perfect way to get over them."

You allow her to whisk you away, desperate to make the pain go away.

A joyous cheer reverberates from your chest as you drop the unconscious barfly to the floor. Rebekah shares in your delight, finishing off her bottle of tequila, glad to finally see a smile on her best friend’s face. "Bartender, make me another drink!" you command the woman behind the bar with a laugh— her body moving mindlessly under your compulsion.

Your dearest friend saunters over to you, draping her arms over your shoulder. "See, darling, isn't this better than crying over my bastard brother?" she asks you with a grin, her words slurring slightly due to her tipsiness. You nod your in agreement, downing a shot of whatever concoction the bartender created.

You gasp in realization as a brilliant idea pops into your head. "You know what this party needs? Music!" you announce to the crowd of compelled patrons who cheer amusedly, having a fabricated night of their lives. Drawing from the eternal source of magic flowing through you, you turn the bar’s radio on, finding a station that satisfies you. 

"Dance with me," you beckon to Rebekah– the two of you wildly jumping in time to the music. You toss your head back, laughing carelessly as the alcohol and blood mix in your system making you feel weightless. The grief of your unrequited love for Klaus Mikaelson is only a mere throb in the back of your mind.

The fun you two are reveling in is interrupted when Rebekah receives a phone call eliciting a frown from you. "Boo," you pout, drawing out the last syllable as she answers it.

"Nik, how wonderful for you to call."

Your frown deepens at the mention of his name, the feelings you had been suppressing starting to rise. You turn to the closest bar patron near you, sinking your teeth in, trying to forget everything. The song on the radio changes and a squeal of delight leaves you. Releasing the guy, whose blood is beginning to pool around him, you begin to dance to the intro of one of your favorite songs.

"Open up to the night 

Our bed is underneath a heavy moon

Cast a doubt"

You begin singing along as you climb on top of the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila on your way.

"Like a shadow walking through the corners of the room"

"C'mon dance with me," you motion to two beer gluttons sitting at the bar, helping them to get up there with you.

"I always thought I'd have a full tank to go

But not tonight, you're running low

I always thought I'd find my own way"

Taking a swig from the tequila, you dance with the two men, swaying your hips to the beat and letting your hands fly freely. You laugh feeling infinite as if this moment will never end. Everything leading up to now and everything that will come after is irrelevant to you, what matters is the limitlessness you feel in this very moment. The absolute freedom.

"Everybody dance!" you shout– the bar denizens cheering their praise as they begin to join in. You cheer, reveling in the joyous atmosphere you created inside the bar, disconnected from the world around you. A hurricane could have just struck New Orleans and you would not know. Taking another swig of tequila, you brace yourself, take a deep breath, and belt out the chorus of the song along with the artist.

"It's driving me crazy, and you can try to lie

But you're not gonna, not gonna deny

No, you're not gonna, not gonna deny my love

And you can run to the hillside, you can close your eyes

But you're not gonna, not gonna deny

No, you're not gonna, not gonna deny my love

You can't deny my love"

Rebekah returns, having finished her conversation with the hybrid, and cheers you on as you jump wildly and erratically, losing yourself in the music. The two of you continue in this manner throughout the second verse of the song– singing, dancing, drinking, and laughing. However, by the time the chorus comes back around, your pity party is ruined by the very man you were having this party to forget.

He watches you from the entrance of the bar– an amused smirk lighting up his face– as you drunkenly dance around the bar top. The smirk falls from his lips when you begin grinding against one of the bar patrons, a surge of rage and jealousy rushing through him. Rebekah, ever the instigator, gives you a round of applause, singing your praises and raving about your performance. A proud grin spreads across your lips at her praise but you weren’t done. Wanting to give Klaus a real show, you pull the man closer to you, leaning in for a kiss, but are met with air. Brows furrowed in confusion, your eyes open to come face to face with Klaus's chest– the drunken man’s heart in his bloodied hand. You frown, realizing the night of fun has come to an end.

"Alright, the party's over. Everyone out!" Klaus yells at the compelled patrons, who are still dancing away in the silence, angry at your little display. "Party pooper," you pout, crossing your arms as Rebekah whines a "Nik," both of you behaving like petulant children. 

"Now," he demands and you get down with a sigh, knowing even in your drunken state it’s best not to test Klaus’s patience. You join Rebekah in compelling the surviving bar guests to go home and forget everything they witnessed tonight. Once the last denizen leaves the bar for the night, you turn to Klaus– angry that he ruined your girls' night with Rebekah. "Why'd you do that?" you question him, gesturing to the lifeless corpse on the bar– the irritation clear in your voice, "He didn't do anything. We were just having fun." Klaus sends you a murderous glare and you realize just how furious he truly is.

"Fun? You call that fun. Whoring yourself out to some men at a bar."

Normally, you have checked the Original Hybrid for a statement like that, but given the current circumstance, you thought it best not to provoke him. You blurt, "It was Rebekah's idea!" looking to save your skin and deflect most of his wrath while simultaneously throwing your friend under the bus. The Original takes offense to how easily you gave her up, but you take comfort knowing that she is Klaus's favorite sibling, so she is most likely going to come out unscathed.

"I don't care whose idea it was. You're going home, now." Without a moment’s hesitation, you and Rebekah whisk off to the compound– surprised at how easily he let you off without so much as a lecture.

Part 2

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x female reader #klaus mikaelson x fem!reader #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus x y/n #klaus x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #the mikaelsons #the originals #the vampire diares imagine #the originals imagine #tvdu #the vampire diaries #the originals one shot #fandom writing #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #tvd klaus #fanfic #fandom #rebekah mikaelson

[aspenwritesstuff]

Part Three

prev | masterlist | next (soon)

warnings: angst, feelings of guilt and isolation, misplaced anger, scars mention, language, mental health struggles, very brief mention of institutionalization

wc: 7553

"You told them about Hyunjin, the beautiful boy you were charged with transferring the remaining shreds of the dream you’d always dreamed to." "You told them how, despite your disdain, teaching Hyunjin forced you to make an effort to be human again. To be alive. To wash clothes and wear them clean after taking a shower. To leave your apartment."

“You told them how, your own trauma aside, Hyunjin wasn’t all that bad.” "You told them how, in a way, it was because of Hyunjin that you’d finally broken your silence today. How wrong it felt to be better for a stranger when the two of them had been waiting for so long."

a/n: hey, hi, hello. I'd like to thank any of you who are still around to read this. From the bottom of my heart. I know I've been very inconsistent, and for that I apologize. I'm trying to pace myself, and slowly return to writing. Updates will be happening with more regularity now that I'm back to it! Comments, reblogs, asks...all of those things really light the fire in me to write, and are very deeply appreciated! So please let me know if you enjoy my work. Enough of my prattling, please enjoy part three!

with love and forehead smooches (if you consent),

-Aspen

taglist: @findingjieunn @hyynee @hyunverse @dreamstarsandskz @linaliann

permanent taglist: @svintsandghosts @notastraykid @abiaswreck

Gray clouds and the distant call of thunder encased Seoul today, despite how nice the weather had been the day prior. It was days like this that were meant for staying in, avoiding getting caught in the inevitable storm, filling your time with something mindful.

Days like this had once been reserved for painting, locked away in the studio as the sky bellowed its approval over each brushstroke. Days like this meant the completion of a work that had been left unfinished, allowing motivation to come from the weeping sky. Days like this, and the work that went into them, had only been allowed interruption by one thing - your friends.

Changbin and Felix, the sole bearers of the right to break your focus whilst poring over a canvas. 

Days like these were once reserved for them, too. Movies that none of you really watched, talking over them about anything and everything. Laughter regardless of what was playing. Comfort regardless of the impending downpour.

What were days like this supposed to be now? When the thought of a brush in your hand was enough to bring about the ache in your heart that you couldn’t quite get used to, despite its frequency. The longer the monochrome sky loomed overhead, the longer the obvious answer hammered at your psyche.

They were the only thing left meant for days such as these.

You could call them. You could reach out in hopes that they hadn’t quite given up, despite your prior avoidance. It would be easy, just the tap of a few buttons on a screen. A child could do it, and yet you found yourself struggling to get past the menu.

Guilt has a funny way of complicating things.

Prior to the accident, and the subsequent lack of contact, reaching out to Changbin and Felix had been effortless - simply a part of your day-to-day routine, requiring little to no forethought. 

Now, however, you were terrified.

Your phone felt much heavier than it should have in your hands as you stared at the long-neglected group chat on your screen - the accompanying double digit number next to it taunting you with its reminder of just how long you’d been absent. Just how long you’d avoided speaking to the two.

How long was too long to ignore somebody before they’d stop considering you a friend?

Talking to them meant facing the possibility that your actions - or, rather, lack thereof - could have destroyed the only two friendships you’d ever cared to maintain. 

Until you actually spoke to them, you could live in ignorance. 

Until you actually spoke to them, you could assume they still wanted you around. 

Until you actually spoke to them, they were the only thing that hadn’t changed.

That just served to make the notion of finally reaching out absolutely petrifying.

These were the same boys you’d stay up laughing ‘til sunrise with, so deliriously tired that everything had become funnier than it should’ve been. The same boys that, rather than letting you fend for yourself, allowed you to follow them around like a duckling as they showed you the ins and outs of Seoul. The same boys who’d all but drag you from your studio when you’d forget to eat in the midst of a big project, bringing you to the diner for your favorite burger.

These were the same boys who brought new flowers to your bedside every week, even when you wouldn’t so much as look at them when they did.

You tapped the thread, swallowing both the lump in your throat and your pride as you read the messages you’d missed - maintaining your composure up until you got to the most recent two, sent only a day ago.

Felix: Honey, please talk to us? We’re really worried about you. Your mom said you’re home now, so maybe we could come by? I miss you a lot. 

Changbin: We could go to the diner if you want? I’ll pay even though it’s your turn. Nothing feels right without our favorite girl, okay? Love you.

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as you hiccuped, unsure if it was shame that you’d doubted they’d stick around or relief that you were wrong that finally broke the dam - but broke it did as hot tears blurred your vision. 

So many things had been ripped from you - violently, remorselessly, suddenly. Your future, your outlet, your joy, all gone in a terrible symphony of metal against metal. Your dreams snatched away by the malicious hand of fate, dangled above your head - just far enough away to taunt you, to remind you that it still existed, just not for you. Reminding you that everything had changed.

Everything, it seemed, except for Changbin and Felix.

Undeserving didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt. After all of this time, receiving nothing at all but radio silence from you, these two men had been contacting you - at least one of them, at least once a day - since the accident. 

You scrolled up, noticing that they’d never once gotten angry. They’d never once blamed you. They’d told you about their days, their lives, what happened at work, changes to the diner’s menu, and - always - how much you were missed. Not once did either of them condemn your behavior. Not once did either of them criticize you.

And you’d ignored them. Treated them as if they, and their unending support in spite of your withdrawal from them, didn’t matter. As if you didn’t need them. As if you were better off alone after suffering loss. 

All it took was shame weighing down your shoulders to remind you, though, that you weren’t - and never would be -  better off without Felix and Changbin.

How inexcusable it felt to have left them in the dark made your thumbs difficult to move. Two simple letters turned into near-impossible hurdles. The level of anger you’d expected to have to face from them had significantly raised your expectations. 

You had been ready to beg, to offer anything to make it up to them when the gloomy skies forced them into your mind. You were prepared to listen to lectures, to agree with them had they called you a bad friend.

You had been ready to face the possibility that they’d lost faith in you completely.

So, how were you supposed to just say, “Hi.” 

How could you simply address them casually as if you hadn’t neglected them? Hadn’t deserted them? Hadn’t forsaken them in the name of sorrow, shunned them for your own selfish pity?

How absolutely wrong it felt to simply greet them as if nothing had happened. How slimy it felt not to apologize a million times over, sinful not to grovel at their feet for forgiveness.

How heavy two little letters could become.

Yet, despite the painfully slow rate at which your trembling thumbs tapped against the glass, they were suddenly there. Sitting plainly, four lines and a dot - “Hi” - black against white. It waited, just as the long-neglected curves and lines of another word had - send - white against blue.

You suddenly understood why minimalism paintings were regarded in such a profound way, as everything inside of you screamed at the sight displayed on the screen. No longer did you question how a few strokes of a brush and a signature could justify more than a glance. Gone were your bitter thoughts over the success of such seemingly simple works. Four lines and a dot, black against white. Curves and lines, white against blue.

Hi. Send.

They were not as simple as they appeared on their own. Together, they were complex.

Complex enough to paralyze you.

Hi.You never used to find it this difficult, not once. The luxury most had when facing the unfortunate drifting from friends was not yours to have. You couldn’t simply exhale a plaintive sigh, asking forces unseen what had happened to what once was. It would be ridiculous to even entertain the notion. You knew what had happened and you bore the angry, red reminder of exactly what spurred the change.

The reminder that things would never be the same.

You never used to care for minimalism paintings. How could you have? They were just lines before. Just haphazard shapes pointlessly ruining a perfectly good canvas. Cruel irony, realizing the potential of the style now that your talent had been reduced to nothing more than fond memories that pained you to recall. Harsher still was the realization that the closest attempt you’d ever make at the style was staring at you from a screen dimming from disuse. A strange medium on stranger canvas, the credits for which would certainly raise brows: 

Eclipse, Hi, 2023, 6”x3” Thumbs on Glass. Your heart dropped at the use of your old habits from your days of gallery submissions. Despite barely qualifying as a piece of art, you’d gone ahead and planned out the label for the four lines and a dot, black against white. Despite your wounds, you’d forgotten the pain for just a moment - losing yourself in the meaning of curves and lines, white against blue. 

Forgetting, for a moment, that everything had changed.

Perhaps it was the surge of adrenaline that accompanied your panicked realization, maybe even a brief stroke of inspiration from your inadvertent first-attempt at a style you’d once hated. Those two little letters were no longer the heaviest thing on your heart - and, in comparison, were suddenly light. Before you could talk yourself out of sending those lines and dots off, you tapped the blue that housed curves and squiggles. Send.

The cartoonish whoosh carrying those two heavy little letters felt starkly out of place amidst the rolling of thunder and the thrumming pulse in your ears. Your legs bounced, anxious feet filling the silence with muffled taps as you waited. All you could do now was stare holes into the screen and hope. Hope that, despite your certainty, you were wrong. That everything hadn’t changed. 

That, if nothing else, this could be the same. They could be the same.

It felt like a form of purgatory, staring at a screen filled with tiny bubbles of even tinier lines, dots, and curves. Time seemed to me moving in strange ways - seconds felt like their own small eternities as you stared at your underwhelming message. 

You wondered if Felix and Changbin felt this way, too, during their admittedly much longer wait for a reply. Certainly they had. It would be difficult to imagine otherwise. If ten seconds felt this long to you, how long had these months felt for them? Your heart dropped at the thought, but rose quickly along with your pulse at the sight of three little dots moving at the bottom of the screen. 

Those three little dots disappeared and reappeared once, twice, and three times before a few sentences appeared on screen. You saw that it was Felix who’d answered first, but couldn’t bring yourself to read it for at least a minute. Although these two had constantly been checking in on you, despite your lack of answers, it was hard to completely let go of the possibility that they would be angry. Hurt.

They had a right to be, after all.

Once your nerves allowed you to skim the message, a melancholy calm washed over you. In typical form, Felix was perfectly understanding - and sweet - with his reply.

Felix: Oh my god, hi! How are you? I miss you so much.What you had done to deserve such an immediate and warm reaction to your return was beyond you, having fully expected at least a bit of resentment sent your way - yet there was none to be found. Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised though, seeing as neither Felix nor Changbin had ever given you a reason to doubt the depth of their care for you.

Recalling that brought the ache of guilt - having gone hand in hand with the thoughts of the two for months now - back to the surface. The shift back from your cautious optimism nearly knocked the wind out of you in its abruptness.

Guilt, and its funny way of complicating things, resulted in paranoia at Changbin’s lack of response. Maybe you were foolish to feel hopeful at the warm, brief, comfort of Felix’s kind response. The lack of discontent Felix expressed at your return held no guarantee to extend to Changbin. He could very well hold onto an indignation towards you for trying to simply slide back into their lives after so long of icing them out. What if he wouldn’t forgive you? What if, due to this, your closeness with Felix - in spite of his unabashed eagerness - too, would lessen? What if..? Changbin: Never disappear like that EVER again, stupid.You couldn’t even find it within yourself to feel a shred of irritation at the insult, a buoyancy you’d nearly forgotten was possible surrounding your heart as it thudded hard in your chest. You weren’t sure where to go from here. Of course, an apology was in order, but beyond that…you were clueless. It felt shallow to apologize over text, though, for something as grievous as the vanishing act as you’d performed. You stared at the screen for several minutes, thumbs trembling over the keyboard projected against the glass as you held the phone in both hands, before you finally decided. 

You: Come over, please?

You’d been spurred into making your appearance, after all, been spurred to finally make an appearance by memories of stormy days spent together. Hoping the nostalgia was hitting the duo, too, was all you could do - eyes glued to the dancing gray circles at the bottom of your screen. Felix: Not gonna lie, I was running to my car the second your name popped up on my screen sweetheart.

Changbin: I’m quite literally already on my way.Felix: Thought you didn’t text and drive? Your principles, or whatever.Changbin: These circumstances allow exception.Changbin: And, for the millionth time, it’s JUTDAE.The ghost of a smile graced your lips as you witnessed their usual banter unfold - something you hadn’t realized you’d missed in your numbness. The shape of your lips felt foreign, though not uncomfortable, on your face. Your lack of reply was largely attributed to knowing Changbin would likely look away from the road to read whatever you would contribute to the conversation - but, it would be a lie to say that was the sole reason. Their imminent arrival gave you an unpleasant reminder that, aside from your sessions with Hyunjin, you hadn’t left the house - and cleanliness wasn’t typically associated with apathy.

From the couch alone, the mess was impossible not to notice. A lump of unwashed laundry could be seen from the cracked doorway of your bathroom, left there despite the hamper being in your bedroom one door down. The coffee table was littered with unwashed dishes, wrappers, and empty plastic bottles, and the blankets that you’d typically kept folded neatly were all strewn about - discarded on the floor or left on whichever piece of furniture you’d decided to brood on that day. 

You rarely went into your room when the boys were around, so you weren’t too concerned about the clothes and items littering the room’s floor and your bed. Your studio was, for obvious reasons, another room you didn't need to worry about...but you didn’t even want to think about the mess in the kitchen. You knew for a fact you hadn’t bothered soaking - let alone washing - any pots or pans you’d used. The murky dishwater in the sink - clouded by the few dishes you had picked up - wasn’t forgotten either. You scrambled to your feet, grabbing empty water bottles from the coffee table in front of you - stumbling in your rush to get them into the recycling bin before returning swiftly to the living room to gather the dishes you’d left behind in your indifference. You set them on the counter, having to use a bit of force to squeeze them into an open space far too small initially, before plunging your hand into the sink with a grimace and pulling the plug - draining the stagnant water from days ago. 

With the plug replaced, soap added, and the faucet turned on at a scalding temperature, you hurriedly put the dirty dishes in - grabbing the pots and pans to fill with a bit of water to let them soak in hopes that it appeared as though you weren’t living the way you had been for so long. A whispered curse left your lips as you abandoned the still-filling sink to make your way towards the bathroom - pulling the large pile of clothes into your arms with a soft grunt before trudging into your bedroom and tossing them into the hamper.

You had just gathered the wrappers from the table and thrown them away, on your way to pick up the blankets when you heard a rhythmic knock on the front door - there was no mistaking the one-three-one pattern as Changbin and Felix’s signature, seeing as you’d jointly decided as a group that this was how you’d all make it apparent who was visiting in case of a spontaneous drop-in.

Elation and panic weren’t necessarily an easy pair of emotions to blend together, but that didn’t stop your instant stiffening as your head spun to stare at the rich mahogany - knowing that, for what felt like the first time after an eternity, your friends had arrived.

Kicking blankets towards the corner as you crossed the room hurriedly, you turned the deadbolt and grabbed the knob. Goosebumps covered your arms as you held the cold metal in your hands for a moment - though you’d be remiss to blame it all on the chill - hesitating before turning it and pulling it open. “Hey,” you began before the door was even fully open, your anxiety apparent in the way your voice quavered on such a simple word, “Thanks for coming, I know that–” You were cut off by an abrupt, tightly set pair of arms wrapping around your body as Changbin, standing in front of Felix, crossed the threshold in one long and impatient stride. He didn’t say a word, simply crushing you in what could’ve easily been mistaken as a restraining hold rather than a hug. He was soon joined by Felix, who approached much more slowly and opted to hug you from the side - enveloping you between himself and Changbin with a sniffle that, despite being unable to see his face, made you absolutely certain he was crying.

“Don’t you ever disappear on us like that again,” Changbin muttered against the top of your head as he placed a chaste peck atop your unbrushed tresses, earning a nod felt against your shoulder as Felix silently agreed, likely afraid to speak considering his likelihood to sob the moment he made a sound.

The guilt you’d grown so accustomed to when you’d think about the two of them lurched in your stomach at the way relief had audibly invaded what you were sure Changbin had intended to be a scolding tone.

“I’m sorry…” you choked out, joining Felix in crying as you spoke the only words you could. The only words that felt proper, considering the circumstances. The only words appropriate after snubbing the only people with the potential to understand you during your darkest time.

“Changbin, don’t make them cry!” Felix reprimanded with a sniffle, squeezing you tighter as he shot his best attempt at a glare Changbin’s way.

“I would’ve cried anyway,” it was true, your response. If the guilt on its own wouldn’t have been enough to rouse your emotions, the relief that they came after all this time was.

Felix nodded, but sent Changbin one last playful glare as you were guided inside, making your way to the sofa in tandem, settling in to wait out the storms; raging outside and in your mind.

As the crying ceased on both Felix’s and your end, he and Changbin had questions. You’d been absent from their lives for so long, after all. It was only natural they wanted some answers.

You told them. You told them every unpretty detail.

You told them about your hand, and how despite the effort you made in rehabilitation that it would never be the same. 

You told them about the scar, and how sometimes it would hurt as if to taunt you, to remind you as soon as you thought that you were maybe, possibly okay that you would never be again. 

You told them about your solitude, surrounded by the company of dirty dishes and overfilled hampers. 

You told them about your mother, and the ultimatum she gave you regarding the way you were living. 

You told them about Hyunjin, the beautiful boy you were charged with transferring the remaining shreds of the dream you’d always dreamed to.

You told them how, despite your disdain, teaching Hyunjin forced you to make an effort to be human again. To be alive. To wash clothes and wear them clean after taking a shower. To leave your apartment.

You told them how, your own trauma aside, Hyunjin wasn’t all that bad.

You told them how, in a way, it was because of Hyunjin that you’d finally broken your silence today. How wrong it felt to be better for a stranger when the two of them had been waiting for so long.

You told them how deeply, painfully sorry you were.

And, when they told you not to apologize and that they were never going to leave you behind, asking if you’d go shopping with them tomorrow?

You told them nothing would make you happier.

When the two of them left, you felt lighter. As though a great burden had been lifted from your shoulders…or, more accurately, distributed between three sets rather than being carried by you alone.

Changbin and Felix had only been gone for about an hour when the buzz of your phone alerted you to a message from an unfamiliar number.

???: Hey! I hope this isn’t a bad time. Ms. Park gave me your number!

???: This is Hyunjin, by the way.

You knew now who the messages were coming from, though more questions were acquired than answers. 

You typed and deleted several responses ranging from, “What do you want?” which you decided seemed a bit too rude, and “Why are you contacting me?” which seemed the same, only stiffer. You finally decided on a tried and true, much more casual:

You: What’s up?

It took only a few seconds for him to respond with a simple question that - from any other mentor - would seem reasonable. Yet your heart, once lightened by the reunion with your friends, seemed to gain several pounds as it plummeted uncomfortably into your stomach.

Hyunjin: Would you be willing to come with me to the art supply store? I’m new to oils and really don’t want to grab the wrong brushes.

Technically speaking, you were perfectly capable and more than qualified to fulfill this task. In fact, at risk of sounding vain, you may be one of the best people to help him out. If he’d have asked you prior to the accident, you’d have jumped on the opportunity to help an aspiring artist purchase their first set of oil-appropriate brushes.

Under different circumstances, you’d have found great joy - fun even - in browsing an art store with someone who wanted to be there. You’d often found yourself wishing for exactly that when you’d notice the bored expressions on Felix and Changbin’s faces on the rare occasions that you’d managed to convince them to tag along. 

This, however, was not under those circumstances.

You were not excited. You were not looking forward to it. You would never have wished for this in a million years.

And, despite the fact that Changbin and Felix were; you were not the same.

You debated ghosting him, acting as if you’d perhaps dozed off or set your phone down and lost track of time. You considered telling him to ask the clerk for help instead, despite knowing that they probably knew the bare minimum and were only working there for a paycheck, not passion, and would likely encourage him to buy the most expensive option rather than the most effective. You even considered simply saying, “No.”

You likely would have gone with any of these options had it not been for the way he’d grown on you. 

Perhaps it was his apologetic nature during last week’s lesson, when you’d displayed an unexpected level of emotion following his innocent query regarding you painting. 

Or perhaps it was the ease with which he offered to drop the subject. 

Maybe it could even have a little bit to do with the warmth of his work, and the way it made you feel something other than empty or angry - however briefly, before jealousy took over - for the first time since the accident.

Regardless of why, you did not, in fact, choose any of your reflexive responses. Instead, you agreed, telling him to meet you in about an hour, cleverly choosing a shop other than the one you were once a regular at despite the further distance. 

You simply couldn’t handle the barrage of questions Hyunjin would likely have should you be recognized; should it come to light that you had lied to him. That you were, in fact, a painter once.

Once.

The reminder, though self-inflicted, still stung as you gathered your bag and jacket, a pit in your gut still present even as you locked up and made your way to the roadside to hail a taxi. The drive did little to remedy it either, and you found yourself unable to match the smile you were greeted with as Hyunjin spotted you exiting the cab.

“Hey! Thanks again for agreeing even though it was last minute!” he called warmly, jogging up to meet you halfway.

You simply nodded, adjusting the bag over your shoulder and gesturing towards the shop in an attempt to occupy him with something other than expressing his thanks.

There wouldn’t be anything wrong with that if it weren’t for the way the brightness of his smile only seemed to accentuate the shadows of your envy, allowing it to grow and fester despite your intentions to be a good teacher to him.

Luckily, he took the hint without breaking stride, walking a few paces ahead of you as you entered the shop. You watched as he paused, eyes wide and curious, until he smiled once more upon spotting the aisle labeled brushes. You followed along at your same slow pace even as he rushed ahead towards it, finding him with two different sets in each hand as you caught up to him.

Reading the furrow of his brow as an internal debate over which was better, you spoke up from behind him, “Neither of those are what you want.”

He jumped, as if the few second gap between your arrivals in this aisle were enough to startle him. It was endearing, in a way, and you couldn’t help but let out the tiniest laugh in the form of a dry scoff.

Setting both sets down, Hyunjin chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head as he turned to face you, “Which ones then?” he asked, choosing not to acknowledge his brief moment of fright as he gestured with a grand sweeping motion to the display racks.

“Let’s see,” you murmured back to him, letting him off without any teasing, instead taking a few strides forward with your eyes on the rack and skimming each set for a specific logo - a simple white outline of a lily - belonging to the brand you preferred.

Used to prefer.

A pause imperceptible to anyone but yourself made itself in your stride, but you focused on the task at hand. You could handle this. It was just picking out brushes. It wasn’t a taunt from the universe, despite the way it felt. It wasn’t a cruel joke. It was just picking out brushes.

So why was your heart racing like you were about to get thrown into a pit of lions?

Swallowing your own nerves, you reached out to sift through the rack, finally producing the same set of brushes you’d once started with on your own journey, before it had been cut short, and handed it over to Hyunjin.

“These are gonna be your best bet,” you supplied, hoping he’d leave it at that.

Whether it was luck or a bit of intuition on Hyunjin’s part, he did just that.

“Thanks, I would’ve been staring at the rack like a fool for at least twenty minutes if not for you,” he said with a quiet laugh, tucking the set under his arm.

“Think of how many people could have startled you in that time,” you gave an attempt to banter, at which his quiet laughter exploded into a bright, vibrant cackle - out of place both from someone as beautiful as he was, and someplace as quiet as this.

He quickly smacked his hand over his mouth, eyes widening as he continued to snicker, “Since when are you funny?” he asked between subdued snorts.

“There’s more to me than you know.”

What a double-edged answer, considering all that you were actively hiding from him.

“Besides,” you began, keen to distract your mind from the discomfort of dwelling on secrets you kept from Hyunjin, “It wasn’t really that funny.”

A shake of his head prefaced the assurance you hadn’t asked for, “Trust me, I don’t laugh like that often! In fact, believe it or not, I try not to be noisy in quiet, public spaces.”

“Oh, is that so?” you responded with a laugh that felt foreign falling from your lips, shaking your head, “In that case, I will do my utmost to keep my hilarity to a minimum.”

Hyunjin exhaled a small snort from his nose, giving an over-dramatic bow - complete with a flourish - before speaking in an deliberately ostentatious tone, “I am most grateful.”

You shook your head, shoving his arm playfully to spur him back into standing, “Ready to check out?” you asked him, hoping the answer was yes. You wanted - no, needed - to leave. 

It wasn’t Hyunjin, by any means. If it were anything but art supplies, you’d actually have quite enjoyed this outing. Hyunjin was good company, once you’d given him a chance. You’d smiled more today than you had in a long while, your cheeks hurting from the lack of use prefacing today.

Hyunjin was warm, bright like the sun, perfectly good company. He was funny without being a tryhard. He was unabashed in his individuality, from the way he bantered to the guffaw you could still hear echoing in your mind.

It definitely wasn’t Hyunjin.

Despite not being your old favorite, being inside of a supply shop still gave you an unwelcome feeling of nostalgia. The scent was the same, regardless of what shop you went to, and you could swear the once-comforting aroma was now a foul stench, something you’d likely shower away when you got home.

“Just about, I need a couple canvases and a few tubes of paint,” he answered absently, blissfully unaware of just how dire of straits you were in.

You nodded, waving him away playfully with your hand in hopes he’d gather what he needed quickly, walking up the aisle to wait near the register for him. You weren’t about to abandon him here, now that the job of finding brushes he’d spontaneously tasked you with was complete. You weren’t that desperate.

It was close, though.

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter. A scoff was earned from the cashier, but you were more than used to ignoring people after your recent experience, allowing you to stay put without so much as an apologetic glance. 

You shuffled, growing antsier with every moment you waited for Hyunjin. You weren’t exactly spatially aware, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a clatter following the brushing of your bag against the countertop.

“Sorry,” you muttered, ignoring the way the cashier rolled their eyes at you as you bent down to pick up what had fallen. 

It was obvious that it was a set of brushes, considering the shape of the package. As you lifted it, something possessed you; whether it be curiosity or masochism, you turned the set around in your hands to get a good look at it.

The first thing you noticed was a simple white lily.

What were the odds? Of anything you could’ve accidentally bumped, it just had to be something you were intimately familiar with? You shook your head, fighting the urge to roll your eyes before you realized that perhaps you weren’t as familiar with this set as you once thought.

Next to the logo was a small, ornate ‘7.’ The last you knew, there were only six sets from this brand. 

For the briefest moment, excitement coursed through your veins. Your eyes lit up, your lips twitched in anticipation of a smile. This brand always had such great improvements with every set they released, and you weren’t sure they’d ever release a new one. You owned all six prior sets, and wouldn’t part with them for anything in the world. 

And then it hit you.

And the smile that had begun forming dropped.

And you felt sick to your stomach.

Because you would not use these brushes. You no longer used the other six sets.

You would never feel the difference in the improved handle shape, how comfortable it would feel in your hand with the carefully formed grooves.

You wouldn’t buy them without a second thought, as you once would’ve. You wouldn’t rush home to lock yourself away until someone came to check on you; because you wouldn’t need checked on, considering you’d never get so sucked into painting that you’d forget the outside world ever again.

“Hey! Sorry I took so long!” Hyunjin chirped from behind you, making you jerk your head up towards him.

“Oh, uh, no problem,” you managed, though you sounded more robotic than you’d intended. You set the brushes down on the counter, quickly enough that you nearly knocked over the rest of the display, “I’m gonna wait outside, okay?” 

Confusion furrowed the man’s brow as he tilted his head, inquisitive gaze locked on you as though he could find the answers he sought in your face if he stared long enough, “Uh…sure. You okay?”

Damn him. 

Damn his earnest concern and his functional fucking hands. 

Damn his too-loud laugh and his ability to get so lost comparing sets of brushes that your return after only a few seconds startled him.

Damn his drive to improve, damn the way he made you smile, and damn the universe for bringing him into your life now; when you’d lost the ability to fully appreciate him.

“I’m fine,” you lied with a forced smile, nodding your head quickly, “Just need some air.”

“Oh…sure,” Hyunjin answered slowly, returning the smile - though the furrowed brows remained, betraying the concern he still felt. “I’ll try to be quick.”

“Take your time,” you called over your shoulder, having already been walking as fast as was socially acceptable indoors the moment you’d heard the first syllable of a positive response. 

Your chest felt tight, your heart in a vice as you gritted your teeth, forcing air into your lungs in short little gasps. The doors seemed so far, and your steps felt too slow…but you did eventually make it outside, sitting down on a bench as you ran a hand through your hair and stared up at the sky, focusing on getting your breath under control before Hyunjin was finished.

God forbid you give him yet another reason to worry. It was ironic that, despite becoming his mentor to avoid such a fate, you didn’t doubt he may be wondering if you should be institutionalized considering your proclivity to lose your composure around him.

By the time he returned, you were as composed as you’d get considering the thoughts swirling tumultuously in your mind. A tight lipped smile from your end was returned brightly by Hyunjin, all traces of furrowed brows and concern completely wiped from his now elated face.

“I didn’t take too long, did I?” he asked as you rose from the bench. 

“Not at all,” you shook your head as you spoke, silently grateful that he’d taken as long as he had. You didn’t want to imagine how he’d look right now if you’d still been struggling to breathe upon his return.

“That’s a relief,” his voice sounded…excited somehow. Like a child eager for praise - his eyes wide and bright and his lips still upturned happily. You wondered what, exactly, had brought him into this state of mind…though you didn’t need to wait long.

He reached into the white paper bag, his slender fingers grabbing something out and lifting it.

The first thing you saw; a white lily. The second; the number ‘7.’

Your stomach sank. Was this a joke? You already struggled to teach him, considering his ability to do what you no longer could…and now he was going to use the brushes you never would? Internally, you wondered if rage or sadness would  be more appropriate - despite the answer being neither, considering he didn’t know any better.

Damn him.

Damn his –

“I noticed you were looking at these when I came up to check out,” he began, cutting off your internal rant, and earning a disconcerted tilt of the head from you.

“And?” you asked, a bit too sharply to be towards someone who was simply making conversation. 

It isn’t his fault, don’t be a dick, you reminded yourself, gritting your teeth.

“And,” he drew out the word, treating your venom as though it was nothing more than a continuation of the simple banter you’d shared in the brush aisle, “I wanted to thank you for all of your help so far, but you don’t share much.” He paused, holding the set out towards you.

No. 

Oh, please no.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you realized…he didn’t buy them for his own use. He got them for you. 

He was giving you the very object that had spurred your hasty retreat from the shop in the first place. 

Damn him. 

Damn him and the way his eyes bored into yours, waiting for a response besides a dumbfounded drop of your jaw.

Damn him and the way that, despite thinking he had done something good, he was just like a housecat. Bringing you a dead rat, very proud and completely unaware that you did not want to touch it. 

Waiting for praise. For gratitude.

He must have noticed your silence, because his bright smile turned into more of a shy, half-upturned grin, his voice softer and filled with significantly less glee.

“It’s just…You looked excited for a second when you picked them up, so I figured they must be important, even though you said you didn’t paint,” he paused to laugh under his breath…but not like he had earlier. This was not joyful, it reeked of self-deprecation and embarrassment.

Damn him and his ability to make you feel guilty for the feelings you cannot control.

“Shit, I’m sorry–” you wondered for a moment why he was apologizing for such a kind gesture, but got your answer in the form of wetness becoming apparent on your cheeks. He reached out with his sleeve, wiping at the tears, looking and sounding so very panicked. 

You shook your head, ignoring the comfort his hands brushing away your sadness brought, and wondered if he even knew exactly what he was apologizing for. Surely he knows he did nothing wrong…before the accident, you would’ve likely crushed him in a hug upon being given the exact gift that had you in shambles now.

“It’s stupid, you told me you didn’t paint,” he sighed deeply, looking down at you with that same worried, furrowed brow he’d shown inside. He lowered his hand from your face - his perfectly functional, unscarred hand - and rummaged through the bag with it, “I should’ve asked if you wanted them, I’m sorry.” 

You couldn’t do anything other than shake your head, the ability to form words gone as you struggled to even garner a single cohesive thought.

“I’m sure I can bring them back, I kept the receipt–”

“No!”

You surprised yourself with the quickness with which you declined his offer to rid you of this accidental reminder of what you’d lost; quicker still had you reached out and snatched the set from his hands, holding it tightly to your chest.

“No..?” Hyunjin asked, the slightest hint of relief creeping into his voice - so subtle and tentative. So ready to return the brushes and apologize again at the first sign of discontent.

You were just as surprised as he was, unsure of what possessed you to decline the offer that would remove the unwelcome reminder. 

Maybe it was the pride with which he’d presented them to you, or a desire to wipe the worry from his expression. 

Or, maybe it was simply a dream refusing to die.

“No,” you repeated, shaking your head and looking up at him. Tears no longer fell, and you sniffled quietly as you felt your lips pull up into the smallest of smiles.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, as if prepared at any time to take the brushes back to the cashier. You gave him a nod and tucked the brushes away in your bag.

“Absolutely.”

Hyunjin nodded, and as per usual didn’t press any further. Hyunjin was good about that, aside from your initial meeting. It was easy to assume he’d learned not to delve too deep into your psyche following the abrupt exit you’d made.

The only question he’d asked after your acceptance of the brushes was if you’d like to share a cab, to which you agreed, standing at his side as he hailed the first one to come by.

You watched out the window as the cityscape blurred by, keeping your gaze on the window. It was easy to get lost in your own mind with the drone of the tires on asphalt serving as white noise, easily lulling you into tangential thought. 

Perhaps there was more about Hyunjin that you envied, aside from his ability to paint. To dream.

Everything seemed to roll right off of him. The moments you’d seen him concerned were so easily put behind him. He didn’t dwell. He didn’t linger. He moved forward, unstoppable despite the way you were effectively acting as a roadblock.

He kept showing up to lessons following the very first one, in which you could readily admit you did not make the best first impression.

You wished you could do that, move forward without looking back. If it were a skill to be taught, maybe you could ask Hyunjin for lessons in exchange for the ones you gave him.

With that thought in your mind, you finally spoke into the silence of the backseat.

“What would you do if you woke up tomorrow and couldn’t paint?”

You heard Hyunjin rustle across the seat, his breath coming out in an extended sigh as he contemplated how to answer. You didn’t need to tell him what happened to you in order to pick his brain, you’d realized.

“You mean like…if I forgot how to?” he asked, his tone riddled with confusion.

“No,” you murmured, turning your gaze from the window to look at him, “I mean…If something happened to make you lose your ability.”

Hyunjin hummed, looking up at the roof of the cab as he rubbed his chin in thought, his head tilted back against the headrest.

You couldn’t help but wish you had the luxury of considering this situation as rhetorical.

Finally speaking up as the vehicle came to a stop in front of your apartment, Hyunjin let his head loll over without lifting to look at you, “I wouldn’t accept that,” he answered firmly, “I’d keep trying until I could again.”

You didn’t realize you were laughing until the sound came out of your mouth, earning a befuddled look from your companion, his lower lip jutting out slightly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, looking almost offended, as though there were some inside joke he desperately wanted to understand but wouldn’t get an explanation to.

You simply shook your head, waving a hand and stopping your laughter with a sigh, “Nothing, nothing at all,” you mused, lips still upturned in amusement as you got out of the cab, closing the door and walking up the steps to your apartment, turning around at the door to wave goodbye.

Still appearing painfully puzzled, Hyunjin lifted his hand to wave back. Though, considering the slowness of the action, it could hardly be considered such.

As the cab pulled away, you made your way inside. Locking the door and removing your shoes, you picked up the brushes and set them down on the coffee table, a wistful smile on your lips as one thought echoed over and over in your mind.

If only it were that easy.

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin angst #hyunjin romance #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #skz angst #skz romance

[eddie-sweetheart]

🏕 Camp Lovers Lake - Chapter Six 🏕

An Eddie Munson x Female Reader summer camp story. Set just before the beginning of season 3 of Stranger Things, with a few diversions from the original plot of the series.

🏕 Chapters List

Pairing and tropes • Eddie Munson x Henderson Female Reader - fluff, forced proximity, slightly slow burn, summer camp clichés ♥︎

Summary • June, 1985. Close to the city of Hawkins, Indiana, the placid waters of Lovers Lake stand as the perfect background for the homonymous summer camp, where you’re about to be a counselor for the last time before senior year and then, hopefully, college. Your brother Dustin Henderson won’t be with you this year, as he’s chosen to attend Camp Know Where until July - but with your best friend Robin Buckley at your side and the unexpected addition of Steve Harrington to your duo, the upcoming months seem to promise endless fun and exciting adventures nonetheless. However, as you get closer to Eddie Munson, resident metalhead and drug dealer who’s been forced by his uncle to work at Camp Lovers Lake after another missed graduation, your plans for the summer might have to go in an unexpected direction.

Warnings • Cursing, possible mentions and/or depictions of violence, sexually suggestive language. Having no idea where this is going myself, you’ll need to be 18+ to read this fic just in case! In this chapter you'll also find veeery slight mentions of fake rape allegations and animal cruelty (nothing major I absolutely swear - it's just gossip - but I'll put them here anyways).

Chapter notes • Sorry for the long wait, but here we are! This one is more interaction-focused and it's quite long (lots of thoughts in here), but I hope you like it! I can't wait for the next chapters to come! Hope it makes sense so far :)

Chapter word count: 7.7+ k

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

The quest does, in fact, continue. 

The thunderstorm and heavy rain that forcefully took over the treasure hunt doesn’t stop - on the contrary, it keeps coming undeterred the following day, the incessant downpour causing all plans and activities to be canceled as everyone reunites in the Headquarters with a cleared schedule and the special concession from the directing staff to occupy the long hours of the rainy day as each one prefers. 

Most of the campers and counselors decide to go back to the games they took out last night and are now moving tiny pawns with chipped paint on faded Monopoly boards or shuffling old card decks before starting yet another rummy game. Others prefer to read or listen to music, getting lost in fictional worlds or occasionally sharing their headphones with a friend. Some younger kids are drawing and filling out with bright crayons the last few untouched pages of some coloring books. Back in the corner of the large main room, Jason Carver and his friends, Patrick included, are fruitlessly killing time by throwing a basketball into the air and joking about random topics that, according to the loud, saccharine laughs coming from Jenna, Tammy and a few other girls in their group, must be peak comedy. 

In other circumstances, you might let the temptation to eavesdrop win over your good sense, even if you know that their conversations must be as funny as casual, misogynistic jokes can be; however, right now their babble, mixed with the rest of the chatter and the pattering of the heavy rain on the windows and walls of the Headquarters is nothing but a background noise whose words and sentences you have no intention to decipher: all your attention, as well as that of your friends, is indeed all caught up in Eddie’s D&D campaign. 

With the story unveiling and becoming more interesting by the minute, especially thanks to Eddie’s storytelling skills and immersive recounting of your characters’ deeds, anything else is pushed to the back of your mind, and it’s a feeling that’s shared by the rest of your group: everyone, even Steve and Robin, has fallen under the spell of the fantasy game, the role-playing becoming more and more natural as you go along your imaginary adventure. You cross dangerous rivers, spend the night in the forest, investigate mysterious footprints in the mud, the storm raging outside becoming part of the story at some point - all in the span of a single day at Camp Lovers Lake. 

Most of the magic happens because of Eddie. As a Dungeon Master, he reveals a new side of him that you weren’t expecting: he lets his creativity and imagination run wild, following the plot he prepared in his cabin at night, in the dim glow of his flashlight - but he’s quick to adapt the story to the party’s decisions and choices, creating new scenarios and letting the adventure flow with his melodious tone and theatrical gestures, guiding you through the rules and dice throws without influencing your decisions and your interpretations of the characters. You are all wrapped around his finger, hanging to his every word and revelation, gasping when a treasure is found in the secret compartment of a marble column or cursing when a troll or goblin manages to hit you during a fight. 

And that’s actually what is happening right now: an angry goblin has just hit you with his rusty sword, and you’re left with just a few hit points - and now it’s your turn to choose what to do next. 

“Use the healing potion!” Gareth excitedly suggests, the pencil in his hand drumming rapidly on his character sheet. “You can get some points back and keep fighting for a while”. 

You’re tempted to follow his hint, especially because he’s a seasoned player and this is just your first campaign; however, as you stare at the menacing d20 die lingering in the middle of the wooden table, another idea pops into your mind. 

“If I hit him and kill him” you tentatively say, your eyes rising to meet Robin’s across the table, “only the hobgoblin is left. He might attack me as then I’ll be closer to him than any of you on the map, but as he moves to do that Robin can perform an opportunity attack and tear him apart”. 

You don’t know if that makes any sense - you’re not even sure that the opportunity attack works this way, but it definitely seems more reasonable to you than gulping down a healing potion whose effect will completely wear out with the next hit you receive. If there’s a chance of winning this battle, this is it, you think. 

“That might work” Jeff observes as he checks out the squared sheet of paper on which seven pebbles indicate the positions of your adventurers and the two NPCs on the map. 

“Yes, but if the hobgoblin harms her, she’s as well as dead” Gareth insists, and you’re glad to understand that he’s choosing the safe option because he doesn’t want you to stop playing. 

“We will all be, if we don’t finish him quickly” Steve chips in, “in my experience, the sooner you face the fucker, the better. No use in procrastinating the inevitable”. 

Robin swiftly turns towards him. “In your experience?” she jokes, barely managing to hold in a laugh, “what are you, a professional monster hunter?”

As you grab the die and start weighing it in your hand, you notice a weird look appearing on Steve’s face - almost as if he’s realized he has just said something that should have stayed a secret. But it goes away so quickly that you come to the conclusion that you’ve probably just imagined it. 

“Movies, duh” Steve replies, glaring at Robin, “you know what I’m talking about”.

Robin shrugs. “If you say so” she states, before turning back to you. “So, y/n, what are you going to do? Time is running out here”. 

Your gaze spontaneously falls on Eddie, as you feel the need for his advice even if your choice is already almost completely clear in your head. However, he doesn’t take an explicit position: his upside-down smile lets you know that this is something that you need no help with.  

“Your choice, princess” he declares, the rings on his fingers glittering in the light of the ceiling lamp as he spreads his hands in a bestowing gesture. 

You look up at him, moving your eyes back and forth between his encouraging look and the d20 in your hand. 

“You can do this” Eddie adds in a light whisper, meant only for you to hear. His voice unexpectedly sends shivers running down your spine, and as a low thunder rumbles outside in the distance, you make your final decision. 

“I’m rolling to attack” you announce, shaking the die in your closed fist before letting it fall on the table. 

“Shit” Gareth hisses, his hands nervously grabbing his own hair as he and everyone else lean closer to the table, their eyes fixed on the rolling die. Even Eddie is staring, his lower lip caught between his teeth as the tiny piece of plastic moves across the wooden surface in an endless spin, until…

“18” you sigh with relief, soon echoed by everyone else’s cheering. “Please, tell me that’s enough”  You ask Eddie with pleading eyes, the shadow of a hopeful smile already appearing on your lips. 

Eddie lifts his eyebrows and grins as he starts speaking. 

“You all see princess Eowyn moving towards the goblin, raising her longsword above her head in a last effort of collected strength. She aims at the head of the creature and with one swift gesture…” he pauses for suspense, basking in the expectant looks of five pairs of eyes stuck on him. “She swings her weapon and hits the goblin, taking him out in one single motion” he concludes solemnly, moving one of the pebbles beyond the edge of the map and away from your fighting field. 

Everyone exults, and you relax in your chair. Don’t even need to throw the damage dice this time, because your strategy was definitely worth it: as you suspected, the goblin was on his last hit point, so all you need to do now is see what comes next. 

And, unsurprisingly, the final part of the fight happens exactly as you predicted: with your character losing consciousness at the hands of the hobgoblin, who attacks you only to be immediately slain by a critical hit rolled by Robin. 

The atmosphere at the table is ecstatic as everyone cheers your best friend, Eddie included. With this final fight, the short campaign he planned has already come to an end, but he’s filled with proud happiness at the sight of your party’s enthusiasm during the game. 

You catch his barely repressed smile as he collects all his notes into his black binder, everyone else’s chatter and comments about the adventure still echoing around the table, and something warms up inside you. It’s something that you can’t quite place a name on yet, but that it’s getting more and more frequent every day, and any time you meet Eddie’s chocolate eyes, or every time he casually brushes against you for trivial reasons - passing through a door at the same time, your legs accidentally bumping into each other when you sit down on the steps of your cabin’s front porch at sunset, or when he hands you something across the table and your fingers lightly touch by mistake.

It’s a different feeling from what you’ve felt with Patrick before. With him, it was all tingles mixed with nervousness and expectations and the thrill of the first time; with Eddie it’s a swarm of butterflies that fills you whole, fluttering inside you until you feel it drawing you towards him, almost physically at times. It’s as if the more time you spend with him and knowing him, the more you feel a thread connecting him to you, an invisible but altogether tangible line that ties you together whether it’s either across a table or across a room. 

And you feel it now, too, right in the heart of the Headquarters on an incessantly rainy evening - but you’re prevented from exploring its possible meanings any further, as Eddie himself turns towards you and snaps his fingers in front of your face, the metal of his rings clanging as he brings you back to the present moment, away from your thoughts. 

“Heart to y/n” he almost sings, his smile growing warmer as he addresses you, “are you still lost in our adventure?”

You chuckle embarrassedly. “Yeah, you could say so” you decide to reply, hiding your actual thoughts with a shrug, “that was an amazing one, really - I can’t wait to tell Dustin about it, he’ll be thrilled. Thank you for letting us try the game, sir Dungeon Master” you add, mimicking a royal bow as you get up to head towards the food counters, as dinner has just been announced. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn slightly pinker and his smile shines brighter as he stands up as well and follows you, leaving the others at the table for now. No one seems to notice you leaving as they’re still caught up in their chatter - except Robin, who throws you a curious glance while she keeps talking to Gareth. 

“My pleasure, princess” Eddie replies, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans as he leans down towards you while you stand in the already long line that has formed at the side of the room. “You’ve played one hell of a game for a first-timer. Slayed all the monsters like pieces of cake, huh?”

You shrug again, with genuine modesty this time. “Robin did most of it” you reply, nodding towards your table, “killed that final boss with a natural 20 like she was born to play D&D”. 

“Sure, she did” Eddie agrees approvingly, “but your strategy? Maaaan, that was a pro move” he exclaims, accompanying the dragging tone of his voice with a theatrical hand movement. 

“N need to flatter me, Munson” you chuckle, slightly elbowing him in the side, “but I’m glad you approved of my choice”. 

Eddie smiles wide, his fingers lingering on the spot on his body where you’ve just touched him. Then, dinner is served. 

— 🏕 —

Finally, after a day and a half of pouring, unstopping rain and loud thunders, the following morning welcomes you with a bright blue sky and a crisp summer breeze, not a single cloud to be seen on the horizon. 

Birds are singing again, flying out in the open from the safety of their nests among the tree branches, flowers glimmer in full color in the dewy green grass, and even if the ground is still wet and splashes of mud are scattered here and here all over camp, the warm sun rays and fresh air are the perfect excuse for spending the whole day outside. 

All the camp activities are restored and, following a shared agreement from the whole staff, the vast majority of them will be held outside to make up for the previous day of lockdown. 

A painting station is set up on the Headquarters’ porch, where Steve and some younger kids are spending the morning recreating the colors and shapes of leaves and flowers; Robin is stuck on the lake shores, overlooking a definitely unsuccessful fishing session; you, instead, have found yourself paired with Eddie as you are both in charge of directing a group of overexcited kids through some rounds of a capture-the-flag game. 

With a lot of effort, mostly due to the need to navigate through established friendships and preferences, you’ve managed to let the kids split and line up in two more or less orderly rows, one in front of the other.  Right at the end of the two rows, staring into each other’s eyes with a challenging smirk as the contagious competitive spirit of the campers is slowly and inexorably starting to affect you both, you stand as captain of Team Red, while Eddie is leading Team Blue. 

Between the two of you, pinned loosely on a wooden stick, is the so-called flag: a white cotton square, flapping lazily in the soft breeze. 

“Alright, Team Red and Blue” you begin, grabbing the attention of the giddy kids with a clap of your hands. “The rules are easy. Each one of you is a number; starting from Tim here, we are counting one to ten” you say, patting lightly on the head a grinning Tim, whose stay at camp has substantially improved after Jason’s brother has been moved away from his cabin. “Keep your number in mind - because, once we call it, you and the kid with the same number from the opposite team will have to compete for the flag. The first who brings it back to their place in the row scores one point for the team” you conclude, nodding towards the wooden stick and catching a glimpse of Eddie’s very smug smile.

“Is everything clear?” He asks the kids, crossing his tattooed arms across his camp t-shirt as he eyes with particular intention the slightly frightened kids of his team, “I want to see you fight for that flag, army-crawling your way to it if necess-“

“Without hurting yourselves, that is” you interrupt him, nudging him intently as you throw your brightest and most reassuring grin to the petrified row of kids with blue stripes painted on their cheeks. “It’s important that we all have a good time, alright?”.

While the still unconvinced campers start getting ready and focused, Eddie leans towards you with a look of complicity. “Party pooper” he whispers in your ear, but you can feel the smile in his joking tone as his breath tickles the side of your neck.

“Afraid you’ll lose without the violence, Munson?” You joke back, turning around to get in position at the head of your row, your cheeks slightly heating up at the closeness.

“Me?” Eddie exclaims, clutching his heart dramatically as the steps backward, taking his place next to Team Blue as well. “I’m a sworn pacifist. Let’s make love, not war” he declares, his eyes never leaving yours.

Thankfully, you remember that there are twenty kids right there with you, eager to start playing, so you manage to snap out of his magnetic gaze and clap your hands one last time.

“Alright, campers!” You state, the suspense palpable among the kids as you wait to announce the first number. “Let’s start with… number three!”

One at a time, you and Eddie alternate in calling numbers for the following half hour, watching excitedly as the kids run and clash into each other, stand still next to the flag waiting for the other’s next move, fall on the ground after slipping on a patch of mud just to get up again laughing and with dirty clothes. Thankfully, no one gets hurt and everyone’s having fun, even if the competition is getting more intense - and you and Eddie slowly start getting into it as well, moving past mere superintendence as you cheer the kids when they score points and encourage them when they lose the flag to the other team.

“Yes! Yes!” Eddie is exulting now, throwing his ringed fists in the air as a girl from Team Blue earns another point and makes the score tie to 15-15. “That was fucking amazing, Williams” he tells her with a huge grin, bending to her height with one hand raised in front of her. 

You refrain from calling his swearing out as you notice that the girl is looking at him panting, the white flag held tight in her fist as rivulets of sweat roll down her forehead. She hesitates a second as she studies him, her eyes moving fast between his encouraging look and his hand - until, finally, she grins back at him enthusiastically and gives him a loud high-five. 

You smile at the interaction, your heart warming up as you watch Eddie roughly ruffling the girl’s hair with pride - seeing him interact and play with the younger campers like this forced job isn’t that bad after all makes you feel glad that he’s here.

But above it all, you’re happy that the kids are able to see past his tattoos, his long hair and heavy rings, moving beyond the prejudices and preconceptions that they’ve been taught from the day they’re born. Just as Jason Carver is always picture-perfect but secretly hides mean remarks and the attitude of a real bully, Eddie is proving again and again how kind, funny and creative he can be - to you, to your friends and to the campers as well. Sure, he might be a weird metalhead who’s into fantasy games and who presents himself with a dark, moody façade that he wears like armor - but deep down he’s a good guy. Special, you’d dare say. And watching the kids getting to know him and discovering all the beautiful sides that shine through the cracks of prejudice and appearances just warms you, because you know that it must feel good for Eddie, as well.

“Miss y/n” a voice from your left suddenly grabs your attention, making you turn your head away from Eddie. “You should play the final round”

With your eyebrows furrowed, you curiously look at Tim, who is speaking to you with a wide smile on his lips. The other kids on Team Red are nodding enthusiastically behind him, some of them encouraging you to go ahead, and make them win - their growing cheers immediately echoed by the members of Team Blue as the girl who just high-fived Eddie is pulling at his t-shirt to convince him to join you.

“Guys, we can’t” you try to reason with them, “this is your match, you’ve played so well so far and it wouldn’t be fair-“

“Afraid of losing, Henderson?” Eddie chips in, mocking your own statement as he takes a step forward, his hands on his hips and the swarm of Team Blue kids giggling behind him. 

You cross your arms on your chest, pretending to be offended as the kids in Team Red gasp in surprise.

“Come on, Miss y/n, please” Tim nudges you in your side, his expectant and pleading puppy eyes making a soft smile appear on your smile.

“Well, if you put it like this...” you reply, lifting your gaze up to meet Eddie’s with a sigh. “I guess I’ll have to defend my honor”.

The loud cheering of the campers rings in your ears as you and Eddie walk to the back of your respective rows, your heads high as you feel the invisible thread between the two of you vibrate with an exciting kind of tension. The playfulness and defiance in Eddie’s eyes make your heart beat faster and your smile gets harder to hide. He cocks an eyebrow up at you, his own smirk mirroring yours as he places his palms flat on his bending knees, ready to spring as soon as you get the go-ahead. Something in your stomach twists, but you push the feeling away as you firmly direct your eyes towards the billowing piece of white cotton in the near distance.

“Ready…” Tim exclaims as he begins the countdown, the kids beside him crossing their fingers and cheering you on. “Set.. go!”

It all happens in the whirlwind of a few seconds. Both you and Eddie sprint towards the flagpole, racing to be the first to get to it; you’re losing ground at first, Eddie’s long, jeans-clad legs allowing him to cover more distance with each step. But suddenly he almost slips, the sole of one of his white Reeboks sliding on a patch of mud - he wavers but doesn’t fall, but it’s too late: you get to the pole first and the flag is now in your hand, and you wave it victoriously as you turn around. 

It doesn’t end here, though, and you know it - and so does Eddie. As he balances himself to stand up straight again, you realize that now you have to make it back to your spot in the row to score the point - but to do so, you’ll have to pass by him. 

Eddie looks at you with glinting eyes and a knowing smirk, the lean muscles tense under the fabric of his clothes as he’s ready to sprint in whatever direction you’re going. 

You look back at him, chest heavy with quick puffs. 

“Take your time, sweetheart” Eddie coos, his eyes steady on yours, “I'm in no rush”. 

The kids on both teams hold their breath in anticipation. You consider and weigh all options, then decide to go for a little trick - you don’t know if it’s going to work, but at this point it doesn’t really matter. 

Slowly at first, you make your way towards the left one step at a time. Eddie matches your every movement, a chuckle threatening to escape his lips (and yours as well) while you tiptoe towards each other as if you’re walking on eggs. 

Then, all of a sudden you sprint to the right, attempting a last-minute turn that seems to catch him by surprise. You feel Eddie’s rings and fingertips graze the skin of your arm as you move past and around him, your spot in the Team Red row now closer than ever, the cheers of victory from the kids already echoing in your ears… but just as you’re about to step in place, you feel a tug around your waist and you’re suddenly pulled backward. 

In the blink of an eye, you hear Eddie scream a loud “Gotcha!”, but before you can realize that whatever’s grabbing you it’s actually one of his arms, your feet skid without any warning and you feel the ground escape from under your shoes, the sky turning upside down. 

With an unexpected splash, you and Eddie tumble into each other and lose your balance, the kids’ surprised exclamations loud around you as you both fall in a muddy puddle, brown grime splattering all over you and staining the white of your t-shirts.  

However, as you find yourself literally head over heels, you don’t feel the hardness of the ground beneath you: instead, you’ve landed on something soft, and… moving. As you turn your head to make sense of what’s happened, you realize that you’re lying on Eddie’s chest. 

“Shit, you okay?” He asks you, half worried and half amused, one of his hands fluttering across your face and grazing your cheek uncertainly, before landing on your shoulder. 

It takes a few seconds for you to respond, as surprise has taken you aback - and because all of your attention is now focused on him being so close. You can’t take your eyes away from his face, from the definite line of his lips, from the soft curve of his nose, from the light in his eyes that seems to be miles deep as you stare into them, the palm of your hand now extremely aware of the rising and falling of his chest as he breathes beneath you. 

Batting your eyelids a few times to get back to the present moment, you cough to disguise your slight embarrassment. 

“Uhm, yeah, I think so” you reply, getting up to your feet as quickly as you can to examine the damage. 

In order to prevent you from going straight into the puddle, Eddie’s tried to shield you from the mud by falling backward and pulling you on top of him - as the thick layer of dirt on his back, his torso and part of his face clearly demonstrates. But it didn’t help much: your shirt is irreparably stained as well, and blobs of thick, brown water are sliding down your cheeks and matting your hair. 

“God, we really need a shower now” you mutter as you pluck some wet grass from your ponytail, grimacing at the thought of how much scrubbing you’ll have to do to get rid of all the dirt. 

Eddie, who’s been quick to follow you into standing up, nods in agreement, taking a step back with a mischievous smile. “‘Course” he says, as he places himself at the end of the now silent and expectant kids of Team Blue, “but first, we have a victory to celebrate”. 

You lift your gaze to him and as soon as you see the previously white flag, now scattered with dark and blotchy stains, waving proudly in his hand, you let out a defeated sigh. 

The Team Blue kids erupt in a loud cheer, unmirrored by the sad frowns of Team Red, and you mutter a resigned “congratulations, Munson” as Eddie happily joins the celebrations, bowing down solemnly to the campers that are exulting around him. 

— 🏕 —

“And he won? Just like that?”

Robin’s excitement at your retelling of the unexpected turn taken by the capture-the-flag game makes you chuckle. 

You're back in your cabin, crickets chirping outside in the dark as you’re getting changed into your pajamas. It’s not bedtime yet, however: after an early dinner that your sports-fuelled appetite welcomed quite eagerly, it’s now time for the annual movie night - which, thanks to the warmth of the early evening, will be held outside the Headquarters, under the starry sky. 

“Yeah, he did! The audacity, right?” You reply as you wriggle into your PJ top - an oversized ABBA t-shirt that almost completely covers your light cotton shorts. 

“And he did that after he hugged you into a fall?” Robin continues, leaning towards you as the playfulness in her tone reaches her lips, which curve into a knowing smirk. 

“He didn’t hug me” you protest, grabbing your pillow from the top bunk before making your way towards the door. “He grabbed me to stop me from, you know, winning the game, and he accidentally slipped on the mud and I ended on top of him- God, Robin, don’t look at me like that!” you yell at your friend, trying to hide your embarrassed laugh as you throw your pillow at the increasingly sardonic expression on her face. “I know how that sounds, but I guarantee you it’s not like that!”

“Okay, dingus, calm down!” Robin exclaims, the smirk never leaving them as she catches the pillow just in time, “you don’t need to murder me to prove your point! It makes it seem even more less than a point, you know? But okay” she quickly adds at the sound of your groan, throwing the pillow back at you and lifting her palms in surrender. “I won’t mention it again if you don’t want to. I’m just saying it’s cute, like something straight out of a romantic movie where both protagonists are too busy hiding their real feelings to actually enjoy them and-“

“Robin” you interrupt her, leaning against the door with a soft smile, “I promise, we’re just friends. Now can we please go? I don’t want to miss the beginning of the only real movie we’re seeing at this camp”.

Robin sighs, jumping to her feet off of the small desk where she was sitting. “Alright, Miss Just Friends, as you wish” she murmurs, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you both head outside. 

As you make your way in the dark, meeting a few other campers and counselors on the path to the Headquarters, you can already catch some glimpses of the cinema-like setup from a distance. Then, once you get closer and finally come in full view of the large wooden building, you realize that this year the directing staff have really outdone themselves. 

The whole porch is decorated with fairy lights, twisting around the handrail and hanging from the roof in large glittering curves. Hung between the two wooden pillars on top of the short set of stairs, a white, king-size bedsheet is illuminated by the light of the projector, which is set in place behind lots of cushions and picnic blankets scattered on the ground. Most of the kids are there already, sitting in small groups and snacking on warm popcorn that Mrs. Janet is handing out by the kitchen. 

“Woah” Robin exclaims, the sparkle of the fairy lights reflecting in her eyes as she amusedly stares at the ensemble, “it wasn’t this nice last year”. 

“I know, right?” You nod in agreement while you scan the sparse crowd, looking for your friends until your attention is grabbed by Steve’s waving hand. 

You gently tug Robin by her arm, bringing her attention back to Earth as you both climb over pillows and other people’s legs to reach Steve. He’s sitting with Jeff, Gareth and Eddie on a large blanket, whose checkered print almost exactly matches the ones on their pajama pants. 

“Hello, strangers” Steve exclaims as he watches you approach, “about time you got here. Thankfully I was early enough to get the best seats in the house”. 

“Thank you so much, Harrington” you ironically reply, waving your hand back as you make your way towards them, Robin following your every step to avoid crashing into anyone - since, as she always argues, she has terrible coordination. 

As soon as you reach the group, Eddie shoots up to his feet to greet you. 

“Hi, princess” he says with a complicit smirk, making you blush with the nickname he’s borrowed from your D&D session, “how’s the coping process with today’s defeat going?”.

You glare at Robin as she badly suppresses a snicker, watching her sit down with the others before turning your eyes back to Eddie’s. 

“Not too bad, thanks” you reply, mocking indifference as casually as you can, “even if I could argue that foul play was involved”. 

“Oh, was it, now?” Eddie jokes, but he suddenly grows silent as his eyebrows furrow and he leans closer to you. 

You’re instantly petrified as he lifts up one hand to your cheek, your heart thumping hard and fast in your chest as a million thoughts run through your head trying to understand what he’s doing with his face only a few inches away from yours - then, taking you out of your anxious wondering, Eddie scrubs something away from your left cheek with a flick of his fingers, his skin grazing at yours for the second time today as he absentmindedly tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“It was, uh, a bit of dry mud” Eddie mumbles as he straightens up away from you, hiding his hand behind his back quickly as if he’s caught himself doing something he shouldn’t have. 

You swallow slowly, the sensation of his fingers still on you. “Uhm, thanks” you reply, shying away from him as you sit down on the blanket. 

Steve throws a meaningful glare at Robin, who only shrugs in response - you catch the eloquent wiggling of her eyebrows nonetheless, but refrain from nudging her this time. 

“Alright” Eddie exclaims, his tone just a pitch too high as he claps his ringed hands together. “I’ll go get some popcorn. Jeff, come with me?”

“Come on, man, I’ve just sat down” Jeff whines, but a burning glare from Eddie makes him stand up with a grunt. They come back with two full paper bags just when the movie starts, and the salty smell of popcorn immediately fills your nostrils as Eddie plops down next to you. 

The movie is Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, which came out last year and was highly requested by campers and counselors alike. The excitement is palpable around you, and even your friends are enchanted by the adventures displayed on the makeshift screen: their eyes are glued to it, and they hold their breath when suspense gets intense. 

Scene after scene, caught up in the plot even if it’s the third or fourth time he’s seen the movie, Gareth is relentlessly stuffing popcorn in his mouth, with Steve elbowing him every now and then as Jeff whispers a low “leave some for us, too, man”. Every time that happens, you, Robin and Eddie snicker behind them, thankful that you’re more democratic in sharing the bag of popcorn that you’re holding between them. 

During the whole film, indeed, you’ve been alternating picking from the snack bag, in an unrehearsed but perfectly synchronized sequence: Eddie first, since he’s been so kind to go and get the popcorn himself, then you, as you’re sitting right in the middle, then Robin. During a particularly suspenseful scene, however, right when Indy is attacked by an assassin in his room at Pankot Palace, you’re so immersed in the movie that you forget that it’s not your turn yet, and your fingers meet Eddie’s inside the half-empty popcorn bag. 

It lasts only a second, and with a low “oh, sorry” you retreat your hand to your lap; but it’s finally done, now, and the movie plot seems to lose any sense as you fail to follow it from this scene onwards. Suddenly, Eddie’s presence beside you becomes the only thing you can feel: the light touch of his knee against yours (has it always been there?), the glimpses of his wild, curly hair that you catch in the corner of your eye, his earthy and sweet scent brought to you by the soft summer breeze, the heat radiating from this body that seems to ignite you in your cheeks and belly without a touch. And it’s there, back again, the new, exciting and scary feeling that you’ve felt so many times by now, the unexpected hope of something great, the warmth of a kindred soul - it feels good, it feels terrifying, it feels like Eddie, and as you slowly, finally come to terms with what it means, right there in the nightly dark, surrounded by projected sacred temples and flickering fairy lights, you can’t help a smile of relief from blooming on your lips. Because you know, finally, what that feeling is - or better, you’ve always known, but now you feel confident enough to admit it. It feels a little like losing control, alright, but is it that bad? Losing control for something that feels this good?

You don’t realize it, and no one else notices, but you shake your head just slightly. No, it really wouldn’t be that bad to lose control. Not for Eddie - not with Eddie. 

But. And as this tiny, powerful word appears in your mind, your smile freezes for a second. What if. A million possible doors open up in front of you, each leading to a different worst-case scenario. And you start to think straight again. 

But, even if the feeling is something good and new, something you’ve never experienced before, what if the consequences it may bring are the same as those brought by other feelings you’ve felt already? What if it comes to light, this indescribable thing that moves everything inside you without you being able to keep it down, and it ruins everything? What if he doesn’t feel it as much as you do? Or worse, what if he doesn’t feel it at all? It might just be all in your head, for all that you know. A longing for something that’s not actually there, that you thought you had with someone else and that you’ve lost now. Something that was never there, but god, how you wished it was. 

You bite your lip as you go back to the story on the screen, pushing everything to the back of your mind. It’s no use getting this worked up now - you can think about it later, or tomorrow. Well, you might even mention something about it to Robin, if you’ll feel like it. Your eyes focus and you wonder how the hell did the movie go from a beautiful Indian palace to a railroad in the mines - but it’s Indiana Jones, so you guess there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation for that. 

It doesn’t take long for the movie to end. When the theme song starts playing and the credits roll on the bedsheet wavering in the breeze, everyone starts yawning and getting up. 

“Shit, that was so cool” Gareth exclaims, stretching his arms in the air, popcorn crumbles falling on the blanket as he gets up, “I really wish they’ll make more movies”.

“Next time I won’t sit next to you, though” Jeff scoffs, “you’re a snack thief”. 

Gareth groans. “Jesus, are you for real?” He talks back to Jeff, hands wavering as he throws himself and his friend into a whirlwind of back-and-forth bickering that doesn’t end until they reach their cabin. They barely even say goodnight to the rest of your group, but none of you actually minds - what’s more, as you watch them arguing while they fiddle with the door handle, you let out a small chuckle that you’re thankful they haven’t heard. 

After leaving Jeff and Gareth, you, Robin, Steve and Eddie walk a bit more, talking about the movie and about tomorrow’s plans. When Steve and Eddie reach their cabin, they wave goodnight and go inside - Eddie’s upside-down smile following you until you and Robin are out of sight. 

“God, I can’t wait to sleep” Robin groans, throwing herself on the bed as soon as you get into your room. “I’m so glad they went for a pajama party dress code. I’m so tired I couldn’t bear to get changed. You know, like, I could sleep for a whole fucking century and not even world war three would wake me up - ”. 

You listen to Robin’s endless grumbling with a smile as you move towards the ladder that leads to the upper bunk, but you stop right in your tracks when you notice that the window in front of the small desk is still open. 

“Shit” you mutter, taking a few steps to reach it, barefoot on the wooden floor. As you grab the frame to close it, however, you hear someone talking outside. 

“… I swear, it’s true. If Harrington and those two silly friends of his actually heard about it, I bet they’d stop treating them like they’re worth something”

“Y/n, can you pleeeease turn off the light? I’m trying to sleep here” Robin complains, her voice muffled by the pillow. You ignore her, trying to recognize the voice outside - until it clicks. It’s Tammy Thompson. 

“… Yeah, Carver told me. That’s why it must be-“

“Y/N” Robin groans louder, but you shush her immediately. She lifts her face up with an outraged look and you apologize silently, waving at her to reach you next to the window. She doesn’t move at first, but as you insist she finally gets up with an exasperated sigh. Once she’s next to you, you flick off the light as quietly as you can. 

“What?” Robin whispers, and you touch one of your ears with a finger before pointing outside. 

“Here it is” Tammy continues, taking a short pause to make a puffing sound - as an acrid smell reaches you, you realize she must be smoking with someone. “But promise not to tell anyone, okay? I mean, no one that doesn’t, you know, share our opinion on this”. 

“Promise! Now go on, I’m dying to know over here” another feminine voice replies, but you have no idea who that might be. 

“Alright” Tammy begins, and you swear you can hear the malicious smirk in her voice. “So, a few days ago Jason Carver was talking about Munson and those two freaks that follow him like dogs everywhere, right? He mentioned how he made fun of him once at lunch after y/n Henderson said something about Jason requesting his rightful portion of food or whatever, and how the two of them talked back at Patrick during their hike and stuff”

“Oh yeah, I noticed that” Tammy’s friend replies, “are they like, together now?” She then adds disgustedly. 

“Jeez, I hope not for her” Tammy says, “she’s still in time to steer clear of him, even if I don’t think she’ll do that - or Harrington, or their other weird friend with short hair. Buckley, I think her name is. Too bad, I guess”. After a short break, during which she’s loudly puffing smoke, she goes on. “Anyways, Jason was saying how outrageous it is that Munson and his freaks talk back to him or even address him when he knows what they do in their free time. And no, it’s not about that awful music they play, but it’s kinda related. Jason swears that he’s seen them doing something terrible in the woods behind the school - something in the name of the same evil they sing and play about”. 

Tammy pauses for some dramatic effect, and her friend urges her to go on. 

“Well” Tammy continues in a lower voice, and you have to get closer to the window to hear better, “he said he was walking past the woods after practice one day, and saw them sitting at the picnic table - you know the one, yeah? He couldn’t see what they were doing, but it was looking very suspicious, so he waited until they went back to class. And guess what he found on the table? A dead squirrel. Gutted in a pool of blood. And with the blood they had drawn a freaking pentacle on a tree”. 

You and Robin look at each other with wide eyes full of surprise and outrage at the blatant lie - Robin even slaps one hand on her open mouth. 

“What’s a pentacle?” Tammy’s friend murmurs, her stupefied words echoed by the chirping of crickets in the woods around camp. 

“Oh, I have no idea” Tammy casually replies, all the drama now gone from her tone, “but it has something to do with the devil. Yeah, I know right?” She adds, as her friend gasps loudly. “But Jason is keeping this to himself, and only told me and a few others. Says he wants to wait for the right time - when Munson and the freaks cross the line for good”. 

A beat of silence occurs before Tammy’s friend speaks again. “Gosh, Tammy, you’ve been so brave to be alone with him in the woods the other day. I wonder what might have happened if you had followed him off the path”. 

“I was lucky” Tammy replies gravely, “would you be surprised if he assaulted me or something? I wouldn’t, that’s for sure. I could make something like that up and everyone would believe me instantly - that would be quite the lesson for people like him. But even the thought of having to deal with-“

Something cracks in the distance - a branch, maybe, or some leaves, and Tammy and her friends almost shriek before rushing away and back to their cabin next to yours. 

As silence fills the room and the sounds of the woods slowly creep back in the background, Robin closes the window. 

“Shit” she hisses, now wide awake. “Shit. Did you hear that?”

You don’t reply immediately. You’re still by the window, frozen in place with your heart filled with rage and sadness and powerlessness at the thought of what you’ve just heard, at the injustice and at the bullying that Jason Carver, Tammy Thompson and their narrow-minded companions are perpetrating towards Eddie and his friends. 

“Y/n” Robin speaks up softly, one hand tentatively placed on your arm as she notices your eyes growing glassy. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head. “You know that’s a bunch of stupid lies” you finally snap, worry irrationally taking over you, “right?”

Robin stares at you for a second, her mind putting all the pieces together once and for all. It’s only fair that you’re angry at Tammy Thompson for talking behind your friend’s back - hell, she’d be mad if she caught someone talking like that about you. But seeing you so distraught, so upset about someone you’ve known for less than a month, that’s new - or, it should be. However, since she’s come to recognize the hidden meanings of all the little interactions she’s witnessed between you and Eddie by now, it doesn’t seem that new after all. 

“Of course” she exclaims, reassuringly placing her free hand on your other arm as well, “are you kidding? They would never. That’s all Jason Carver’s doing. The kid’s mental, I could swear on that”. 

“What do we do?” You ask her, apprehension clouding your gaze. 

Robin takes a breath. “Let’s go to sleep” she replies, quietly. “We’ll think about it tomorrow”. 

— 🏕 —

Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Feedback is always welcome!

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #camp lovers lake #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munsons stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x you #steve harrington #robin buckley

[llunapastell-reads]

ᴄʜ. ᴏɴᴇ || ʀᴇᴅ ʟɪɴᴇ (ʜ.ʜᴊ) ──

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ :･ hwang hyunjin x fem reader (hyunjin pov) ɢᴇɴʀᴇ :･ angst | romance | hurt/comfort  ᴄʜ. ᴡ.ᴄ :･ 4.1k ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs :･ profanity | alcohol | depression | mentions of break ups | mentions of cheating

"So, what do you have against New Year’s Eve?“ "It makes me reflect on the past, forces me to consider the future... I don’t have very pleasant thoughts about either."

ɴᴏᴛᴇ :･ reposting this story to the sb so just roll with the new year's theme ok ...

✧.* ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴠɪᴇᴡ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ʟɪꜱᴛ & ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ

I hate nights like this.

The sky appears cloudless and it’s softening into a dim shade of indigo, much like an evening after an intense thunderstorm has passed through. There is a stillness in the air and the lingering scent of rush hour traffic makes my stomach churn.

The sky was just as clear when I saw her for the last time. That stupid girl, whom I shared an apartment and bed with for almost two years. A home that we both deserted after I discovered the truth. 

“Hello? Hyunjin, did you hear a single word I just said?” My best friend’s voice tears me from my brooding recollections. 

“I’m sorry Felix, can you repeat that again?”

Much of our conversations are like this these days. I know I should try harder to push the dejected thoughts from my mind and be more present in reality, especially around the person who happily took me in when my relationship came to an abrupt end. But when the evening is veiled in this color, I can’t stop tormenting myself with all the details of the night I left her.

Felix sighs and mirrors my position against the railing of his balcony. He knows where my mind is and by the look in his eyes, I realize he’s decided to spare me the lecture. Felix has the patience of a Saint and I often feel unworthy of his devoted friendship. I have put him through a lot these past few months, and the least I can do is pay attention to what he’s asking me.

“Tonight is Chan and Changbin’s party and I promised them I’d be there a bit early. I was hoping you would come with me to the apartment to set up…” the blonde trails off.

“…And also, they didn’t hear from Kira. Not like we wanted her to come, anyways. What I mean is— she won’t be there tonight.” 

I can only bear to smile at him meekly. I hate the sound of her name. 

Choi Kira, they all used to fawn after her in the dorms. We had been friendly throughout our time in university, but I never gave her a second thought until the end of our junior year. My younger self would find me pathetic for sulking over someone who I once considered so vapid and boring.

“Of course I will help you. That's my duty as your best friend, isn’t it?” I flash a boxy grin towards my friend, but It doesn't seem he buys my forced smile. He understands how difficult it has become to be in social situations nowadays. People love to pry, they want to gossip about if the pretty picture of my life they painted in their minds resembles the one I am actually living. They will ask about their perfect Kira, and I will attempt to contort the truth into something less humiliating. 

I am not sure how I can dilute discovering my girlfriend was cheating on me with our English professor into a more digestible story, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. They will believe whatever bullshit I sell them.

I mull over a list of excuses while we lock up and walk to Chan and Changbin’s shared apartment. Ever since we were freshmen in college, those two made it their mission to ring in the New Year in the most obnoxious way possible: a blowout out celebration with enough booze to poison every citizen in Seoul. Growing up together has cemented our friendship into a brotherhood, which is the only thing motivating me to leave the solace of my studio. And of course, the promise of not having to go clubbing with them for three weeks if I showed my face. 

For them, my brothers, who have carried my pitiful existence without any trace of resentment through these last months of winter, I will attempt to resemble my old self. I've never found it difficult before to put on a show of friendliness and amusement, but recently, the mask wears heavy on my features. To be amongst a crowd, amongst my best friends, and still feel like I’m stuck in solitude— barely visible through the fog that is my own fucked up illusion of loneliness. They just can’t see it. They have never been where I am, and I hope that never changes. But that doesn’t stop my friends from reaching for me, doing the best they can to fish me out of it— even with blind hands. And for their endless attempts to liberate me, I am forever grateful. 

Felix, Chan and I sling back a shot of whiskey with the promise of a fresh start in the new year. My lips curve up at them and their optimism. My arms hang over their shoulders, wishing the physical contact could transfer some of that imagined hopefulness into my own body. 

If only I could will it into existence. If only that could keep the fog from thickening.

— ✧.*

Thank god the mindless babble has paused for a moment as everyone turns their attention to the direction of loud clatter. I relish in the sliver of peace the commotion brings, finally the bogus smile I’ve been forcing can falter. I feel a bit of gratitude towards the woman who has tripped over the carpet and taken a few plates down with her; she’s abetted my escape from another stale conversation with acquaintances I don’t care about.

“Wow, I didn’t expect to see her tonight...” Jeongin whispers next to me while we watch the woman collect herself from the scene she caused. I think I recognize her from Kim Hyemin’s Statistics course, but we never spoke. I only ever took notice of her taste in Literature because she always had her face buried in a book. 

“I heard she got dumped by Seungmin’s old roommate at the beginning of the fall semester. No one really knows the details but apparently, it ended really ugly.” My younger friend continued, his concentration moving from the disheveled woman to the cocktail umbrella in his drink.

“How ugly?” I ask without taking my focus away from her.

“Like, took time off of school because she went ‘away...’ isn’t gonna graduate on time, that kind of ugly.” 

My heart twitches at his words, her shallow gaze is very familiar to me. The glassiness of her darkened eyes hints that her mind often spends time in a faraway place, maybe because reality is too harsh to engage in. Felix always points out his ability to tell my thoughts are reeling just by the look on my face. I study her appearance and understand what my friend must see in me. 

“S’okay bout the dishes, babes— just come ‘ere and meet my brothers!” Changbin lunges his arm around my shoulder with a little too much vigor. I can smell the whiskey and coke on his breath and I can’t help but roll my eyes at his drunken enthusiasm. His glazed stare is fixated on the bleach blonde attached to the stumbling woman’s arm— must be this week’s fuck buddy, telling by the way she returns his fervent gawk. As the two girls approach us, I can’t find the will to shift my attention away from the person the blonde is dragging behind her. Her tousled fringe accentuates the hollowness behind her eyes and it makes my lungs constrict. It feels as if I’m staring into a mirror, I see so much of my own reflection in her exhausted demeanor. That sullen expression is like an open book, one I have come to memorize not by choice but infliction.

The light graze of Jeongin’s fingers on my wrist pulls me from my own reeling. “Earth to Hyunjin— this is Ryu and Y/N, old classmates from university. We were all in the same dormitory, y’know with Seungmin and Jeno…” the younger boy’s words trail off as Y/N pierces him with a quick glare, her petite frame stiffening at the sound of her ex lover’s name. 

Changbin cuts the thick atmosphere with a sway and stumble while I attempt to hold his larger body upright. “S’glad you both could make it! It’s almost midnight and I made Chan save us the best seats to watch the fireworks,” he snickers. Jeongin and Ryu escort our tipsy host to the terrace with myself and Y/N lingering behind them. 

“Do you drink?” I ask apprehensively. She pauses her stride and examines me before exhaling a deep sigh. 

“Tonight I do,”

Glinting fluorescent lights of blue and pink guide us to the abandoned kitchen of the apartment. I make us a stiff drink and watch as she gulps it down with earnestness. “You look like you’re having as much fun as I am being here,” I tease.

A dry chuckle escapes through her full lips. “Am I that easy to read?” 

More than you realize. I can’t stop the smile from forming; our masks won’t work in here, this brief bubble of solidarity, of knowing without saying. A pleasant silence hangs in the air for a moment— until our attention is drawn to the boisterous chatter that begins to approach us. We both suck in a sharp breath.

“Back to reality?” She smiles up at me for the first time tonight. I drink in her features and usher us into the real world again. 

— ✧.*

“10…. 9…. 8…. 7….” 

The entire terrace harmonizes like a choir as we countdown the last seconds of the year in unison. Felix and Chan grip the railing of the building with anticipation in front of me, while Changbin tightens his hold on the small waist pressed against his body. I grimace, shifting myself closer to Jeongin and Y/N to avoid witnessing the sloppy kiss that will take place in moments’ time. The packed space erupts in jubilation then, with ecstatic cheers and applause dulled momentarily by colorful explosions in the sky before us. 

I’m not sure what possesses me in that moment, but when I turn to her, my body reacts against my will. Maybe it was the way the vibrant colors of fireworks glistened against the tears streaming down her face; or how her widened eyes bore into mine and didn’t dare look away once the connection was made. My hand intrinsically grasps her smaller digits, and when she doesn’t cringe or pull away, I lead us from the terrace and out the front doors without looking back.

We’re half way down the building steps when her hand tugs at mine sheepishly. “Hy-Hyunjin, please slow down,” Y/N’s feeble voice hardly echoes in the concrete stairway.

The entire time we’ve been moving, I have been suspended in a daze; I cannot make sense of the gnawing in my chest cavity as her tear stained cheeks flashes through my mind. She stands at my eye level from the step above me, slender fingers still laced in my own, a tremble just barely detectable.

I watch her expression turn tearful and my limbs move on their own again— cupping her face with my free hand, I beg “please, no more tears. Not right now.” I don’t hesitate to wipe the wetness from her eye, and she leans into my touch, gently nodding her head in silent agreement. 

Our pursuit continues until we reach a familiar establishment a couple blocks away from the apartment: a shabby, 24-hour diner that has been a habitual stop after late night escapades with the guys. A flushed shade of pink has bloomed under Y/N’s skin and I’m unsure if it’s a result of the winter air’s caress, or embarrassment from the smirk I can’t contain while watching her shove bites of pancakes into her mouth. 

She takes a noticeable gulp and clears her throat. “What are we… doing here?” She questions from across the booth against the window. 

I stare blankly at her. I try my best to keep a neutral tone so she can’t pick up on my own befuddled thoughts around the same question. “It just seemed like you needed to get out of there. And for some reason, I wanted to go with you.” 

There was truth to that at least. How insane is it for strangers to share one knowing look and allow that to embolden them to run away, hand in hand? Y/N squints out the frosted window, considering my words. Her eyes flash back to mine and hold my gaze for a long moment before sighing out a ‘thank you’ between parted lips. 

“What do you have against New Year’s Eve?” I probe before taking a sip of coffee. 

She must find my question amusing because the corners of her mouth creep upwards into a crooked smile. With some hesitation, she answers “I don’t know— I guess, this holiday makes me reflect on the past, forces me to consider the future. I don’t have very pleasant thoughts about either.” Her eyes flutter closed in reflection. “I have had some… tough times, to say the least, this year. I thought by now I would feel different. Feel better.” She scoffs at her own words.

I turn her admission over in my mind before responding. What she has shared resonates deep within me. Leaning my head against the chilled glass, I add “It’s quite funny, the fashion in which we celebrate the new year. The signifying of a ‘new’ chapter— a clean slate. As if the change of the date could really alter our lives when the clock hits midnight. It’s just another day, you will feel the same as you did the night before. For some of us, that’s not much of a reason to celebrate.”

I swallow thickly at how cynical I sound aloud, like a scorned victim who wants everyone to drown along with him. My transparency makes me feel pitiful, yet Y/N does not seem taken aback by the crudeness of my words. There is only silence exchanged between us, but her empathetic expression conveys all I need to know. I exhale my relief.

But I am flustered for a different reason all together now— she pulled that unfiltered confession straight out of me with just a stare; the inkling of her smile and the fluttering of thick, dark lashes was all she needed to disarm me. 

“But doesn’t a little piece of you wish to feel differently?” The inward battle she endures is painted all over her features— exhausted by the affliction of the universe, but still so unyielding for her heart to become callous. She’s courageous, a lot tougher than I have ever been; I stomped out that flicker of faith as harshly as I could in the beginning of my grief. What was the point of looking for goodness in the world when I couldn’t have it, when it couldn’t reach me? When everything I tasted didn’t take the bitterness away.

“I want the idea of a new day to fill me with optimism— but my logic won’t quite allow that, like my mind is fighting against my heart,” Hiding the blush behind her hands, she can’t hold back how comical she finds her own embarrassment. “God, is that childish? Why does it feel stupid to still want to hope?” 

It pangs again, my heart remembers all too well the feelings she is conjuring in me. I try to defuse this internal intrusion by laughing too, the toothy grin reaching my eyes. “In this world, It’s admirable and maybe even a lil’ foolish— because the mind and heart can hardly ever cooperate.” Y/N raises her glass to my eye level and we cheers to that: to our feeble brains and the forlorn heart, fickle fuckers they are.

The mood shifts unexpectedly afterwards, her light expression softening into something timid— something vulnerable. Nimble fingers fidget with the corner of her napkin as her low tone just barely registers from across the table, “I don’t know how you knew what I needed before I did, but thank you, Hyunjin– this means a lot to me... Do you think we were friends in a past life?”

I can make out a semblance of my own smile reflected in the dark liquid of my coffee mug as I peer down into its blackness. I won’t allow myself to spiral now, I refuse to process how alarming it is for a stranger to move me as deeply as she has, so I deflect, “Maybe, cus I knew you were cool– that's why I brought you to where all the brooding kids like us come to hang out.”

Y/N’s bright laughter rings distinctly amongst the commotion of the restaurant, her eyes creasing into crescent moons while she beams, “We are kindred spirits, you and I.”

And then it’s all too soon that the liquid in our cups turns cold; the night lulls to a hum as it settles around us and we reluctantly prepare to brave the elements outside the solace of the diner. 

— ✧.*

My lips are practically frozen when we reach Y/N’s apartment complex. Seoul’s frigid wind stings my face as we push against its force, but I unclasp the top buttons of my coat anyways, fully welcoming the numbness— anything to distract from the shorter frame beside me, the way my fingers itch to seek comfortable warmth in the hand that brushes against my own while we walk. An unintentional gesture that is stirring a foreign kind of frenzy within me, and Y/N seems to sense my discomfort.

“Hyunjin, can I ask you a question?” She doesn’t meet my gaze when she speaks and a piece of me is glad for that. “Do you believe… only time can heal all?”

Her question stifled my thoughts for a minute. The answer doesn’t take too long to come to me, and I hope my candidness doesn’t deepen her hardship. “I think time is a small part of it. It alleviates— as do many other things. Perhaps healing is a combination of time passing, distraction, enduring; just trying your best to fill yourself up with anything at all until you feel full, or whole, again.” 

The fluorescent street light illuminates her pensive look, and I trace faded constellations of freckles adorning the rosy cheeks in front of me. Her rigid stance reduces to something more placid under my stare. How small she must feel standing against my taller stature.  The corner of her lip remains tucked under her teeth until I force myself to connect with her fixed gaze again.

“What do you do then, to fill yourself up?” Y/N smiles up at me hollowly. She is a person made of contradictions, it seems; what a lovely, twinkling sound her voice makes, it does not match the spiritless words that spill from plush lips. 

I run my fingers through my dark hair and move my focus to the black sky above us as I speak, “I compose and listen to music; drink a little too much some days and write poetry. I paint. I sketch— I fuck.” I catch the hitch in her breathing and chuckle at her embarrassment. Her body takes a brave step forward, curious eyes searching for something within my own. 

“And does that work? Are you healing?” 

I wish I could lie and give the answer Y/N wants to hear. The truth of the matter is, I have seen myself take great strides forward toward happier days— and then one random morning, I might not have the will to even crawl out of bed. More than just my heart was broken by my breakup; my ego, my confidence, my ability to trust have all been marred. She is owed some honesty, so I pick out the most important notes to share from my experience.

“Honestly, I don’t think healing is linear. I have some truly good days, and some bad ones. I will admit there is slow progress— but god am I impatient,” I laugh and pray she can’t hear how I ache, “and god, does the loneliness tear me up sometimes.”

I sense my statement causes her no distress because Y/N simply purses her lips and nods like I had just confirmed her hypothesis. We stand in the cold, with the weight of this burden of truth on our shoulders. I’m taken by surprise when a melodic giggle disturbs the bit of silence.

“Being around you made me feel so light for the first time in what seems like forever,” my pulse quickens and she offers me no opportunity to interject. “Thank you, Hyunjin. It’s been awhile since I’ve hung out with someone and didn’t feel… alone, if that makes sense.” She peers up at me through her lashes, gauging my expression.

“On those days you feel lonely, I want to do the same for you as you did for me tonight.” Her eyes darted from mine, bashful at her own unexpected tenderness. When she attempts to escape through the double doors of the building, I catch her wrist and pull her back to me, my shallow breath tickling the back of her hair. 

She has done more than she will ever know, and more than I’m brave enough to admit. 

“Can I say one last thing?” My pitch heightens and I don’t care if she can hear the excitement in my voice, all my senses are buzzing being close to her like this. As she turns to face me, I see I’m not the only one enchanted.

This girl must possess the ability to read my mind because before the idea of kissing her can completely overwhelm me, delicate fingertips graze my jawline and ground me to reality once more. I didn’t have a single clue as to what I wanted to say before she slipped away, but that doesn’t matter in this moment any longer– there is nothing we have to speak into existence as her lips ghost over mine, silently seeking permission to succumb to our inexplicit desire. 

Kissing a stranger shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t make all my reason null and void, or engulf me in a soothing reverie that I embrace when I take her lips in mine more fervently. This feeling shouldn’t transcend gratification and fill me with more, but as she cradles my face with a gentle grasp and my arm wraps around her neck to bring our bodies closer, I’m somehow convinced this is right— that it is as it should always be with Y/N.

Her fingers tangle themselves in my hair and I let myself bloom under the intoxicating warmth of her touch. I smirk against her when her lips part, allowing me entrance to deepen the kiss. She tastes like mocha and desperation, the flavors becoming even sweeter while I push her into the brick pillar of the building, failing to restrain the need to have her pressed against me. My movements are more raw than I intend, but I can tell she is quite pleased with my undoing, based on how her thumbs smooth loving circles into my skin.

A delicious tickle makes me hum, imagining the image of her frame caged between my own and the cool facade— how lost in this moment we must appear. Y/N returns my intensity and claws at my collar, as if our forms could possibly meld together with just a little more fervor. Her body arches, chasing my caress down her side and I can’t suppress the groan that slips into her mouth when I feel her shiver against my body. A blistering kind of heat builds in my stomach, listening to the soft, wet sounds our lips make while we struggle for dominance. Who craves who more, It's impossible to say.

I think this moment will be burned into me, I have never felt pleasure so tangible and potent. I’ll remember with clarity how the huffs of white smoke blurred my vision when we reluctantly disconnected, gasping for air, under the harsh gleam of lampposts. Y/N giggles in between quick inhales and tries to cool her reddened cheeks with the palm of her hand. “Did you want to say you needed to come upstairs?” 

My chuckle comes out breathy and ragged, “yeah, I feel kinda dizzy— I should maybe lie down for a while.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle when she smiles and my chest swells with adoration. I want to savor the way her smaller hand molds into mine as we hurry through the brick archway together. A sensation I long locked away washes over me then; I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but it feels a lot like resolution— a wishful promise this night is just the beginning. 

The idea of tomorrow shines a bit brighter in the back of my mind.

#skz scenarios #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fanfic #stray kids scenarios #lluna.p.writes #red line ch 1

[totally-not-an-awkward-okapi]

Spotify Link

I really hoped my brain would stop treating Hwei like a chew toy before I broke and annotated his playlist. I really did.

Hwei, the Visionary - “In northwest Ionia, the island of Koyehn once stood beautiful and serene. Among its golden sands, seasonal bazaar, and quaint mill town sat the Temple of Koyehn, an ancient and renowned conservatory for the arts. Lukai Hwei was born to inherit this temple.”

Under a Technicolor Sky - “Kind and precocious, Hwei spent his childhood putting to canvas his wild daydreams, which exaggerated the world around him into surreal, fantastical sights.”

The Bad Color - “As paint flowed around the canvas, however, his control ebbed.”

Sleepwalk - “Emotion crashed through him, wild and fathomless as an ocean, and he surrendered himself to its beauty.”

Bad thoughts give me bad dreams And my bad dreams make me get up and walk Bad thoughts give me bad dreams And my bad dreams make me sleepwalk

The Consequence of Imagination is Fear - “His vision turned black, his last memory the awestruck masters, drowning. Hwei awoke days later, surrounded by his masters—alive, but infuriated.”

The million "what if I"s between your ears The feelings of regret And now I'm running to forget But know, the consequence of imagination's fear

I don’t like my mind - “Hwei was horrified—but fascinated—by the depths of his power, and he craved to see more.”

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room With all its opinions about the things that I've done So, yeah, I blast music loud and I work myself to the bone

Syncopate the Beat - “Thus, by day, he upheld Koyehn’s conventions.”

That you syncopate the beat, that color scheme like you're living inside someone else's dream That sugarplum queen has no money to buy herself the rest of the dress, it's the stress It's the stress

Vow of Silence - “But alone at night, he pushed the boundaries, driven to explore the extent of his power.”

Silence means that you can't speak: you can't let things out, they stay inside You just sit and nod like a quiet freak, and you hold your tongue and you swallow your pride

Under a Monochromatic Sky - “And with passion and humility, he prepared to inherit his birthright, surrounded by the respect and affection of his peers. But part of his mind remained forever shrouded at nightfall.”

The Concerto - “And so it remained, until the temple received a visiting artist: Khada Jhin.”

Beautiful Delirium - “Over a gilded summer, Hwei accompanied Jhin, guiding him around Koyehn. They often exchanged their creative perspectives, and, respecting their differences, Hwei recognized Jhin’s virtuosity and valued their time together.”

I felt like dead flowers in a vase (Dead flowers in a vase) Which somebody forgot to throw away Still standing here on public display (Still standing here on public display) All wilted and decayed

A Crow’s Trial - “But the night before Jhin’s departure, the man challenged Hwei.”

The crow offers me a smoke He says, "It'll take you for a joyride" No, sir, I think I'd rather choke Oh, I'll be fine "You're in a web of lies"

Do You Believe Me? - “Jhin sensed that the pieces Hwei showed others were forced façades—and he wanted to see a real performance.”

Don't hide yourself Don't hide yourself from me Are you coming to my show? No, you don't have to go Do you believe me?

Painter - “Hwei tried to deny it, but his eyes betrayed him. Flooded by the years spent creating meaningless art, his imagination begged catharsis.”

Paintings, paintings I’ve painted for you Leave me so confused ‘Cause I used all the colors of the rainbow But the colors on your palette are so damn few

Everything I Wanted - “Sharing these forbidden visions for another exhilarated him and illuminated the powers of his art: connection, inspiration, and unfettered creation.”

I had a dream I got everything I wanted But when I wake up, I see You with me

De Selby (Part 1) - “Jhin witnessed all. Afterward, with eyes alight and tone inscrutable, he said farewell, stating he would be moving on tomorrow ‘to watch the lotuses bloom.’”

And sit unseen with only the inner upheld Your reflection can't offer a word To the bliss of not knowin' yourself With all mirrorin' gone from the world

First Light - “At dawn, Hwei and his fellow artists awoke to a series of tragedies.”

One bright mornin' changes all things Soft and easy as your breathin', you wake Your eyes open at first, a thousand miles away But turnin' shoot a silver bullet point-blank range And I can scarce believe what I'm believin' in Could this be how every day begins?

Jhin’s theme - “First: four historic paintings, destroyed.”

Colorful Mind - “Second: an arrangement of four bodies — the masters that Hwei had almost killed in his youth.”

Picture perfect mutilation; Bright to black with no hesitation All the right shades on the wrong page Make up this colorful mind This colorful mind of mine

I’m doing Art - “Third: the fiery eruption of the temple’s lowest floors.”

Going Going Gone - “Amid the flames, Hwei imagined the air electric with color. Everything that lived within him bled outward.”

Where I can stop this Stop this crying You’re not a crocodile But you’re a lizard with a pointy little tongue And no holster, no cabinet

Battle Cry - “The temple quickly collapsed into ruins, with Hwei emerging as its only survivor.”

I stumbled out into the cold below a thoughtless moon I saw the phantoms of my friends, but they were gone too soon

Have A Seat Misery - “Exhausted and guilt-ridden, he mourned.”

Have a seat, misery Lord how I’ve missed you Don’t go crying to me That I kept you away for too long

Addict of the Gallery - “Yet his imagination overflowed, reliving every moment of the disaster.”

More material Feeling low Taking scraps from destruction Building me up again

Venom - “During the day, Hwei and the villagers from the mill town held burials. At night, he revisited the ashen-gray wreckage and painted, his palette taking the shape of Koyehn’s crest—the same worn over his heart.”

It's been kind of cold, feeling all alone Haven't been myself in quite a while You know They got in my head, like everybody said Cautionary tale How quick the sick can spread

Giraffe - “On one such night, Hwei found the remnants of a trap beneath the rubble—one petaled like a lotus flower.”

I've been drinking With wolves dressed up as sheep They've been killing Injured creatures in their sleep Get some feelings That truly bothers me I can save them I know I can

I Feel Evil Creeping In - “In the time since, Hwei has learned that the answers he seeks arise through revealing the full extent of his art to others.”

When I pushed you Out of my fucking way I left the sun on your skin So when I wore it It would fit me

Suffer With Me - “He tracks down nefarious individuals in Ionia’s darkest corners, unleashing scenes of suffering upon them to understand his own well of pain.”

Dinner Is Not Over - “Yet he also reaches out to Ionia’s victims—fellow witnesses—to create shared tranquility and reflection.”

But that's dessert! You can have it when the dinner is gone! So put it down

Natural - “Both the relentless artist rising from the ashes and the kindhearted man from a once-peaceful isle, Hwei faces the conflicting hues of Ionia—and his own imagination.”

I'm just tryna run away from the past  It's so blurry, it looks like dark purple  Wandering in the dark, falling for temptation

Dreamland - “As he spirals deeper into the shadows, he lights a path, mind brimming with possibility.”

Pullin' down backstreets, deep in your head Slippin' through dreamland like a tourist

Abstract (Psychopomp) - “Which shade of himself will triumph, however, is yet to be seen.”

Sometimes, it returns like rain that you slept through  That washed off the world, the streets looking brand new I will not be great, but I'm grateful to get through The feeling came late, I'm still glad I met you

I Cannot See His Colors - “With paintbrush and palette, Hwei shapes endless possibilities as he draws ever closer to earning closure or embracing despair.”

#someone’s gonna ask because there’s a good amount of romantic songs in here #the vibe I get is that Jhin was the older man who helped Hwei understand himself but the relationship was also inherently bad #whatever Jhin thought of the realtionship Hwei at least thought they where dating that summer #the way I see it Hwei isn’t actively into Jhin once he realizes what he did #but he also hasn’t like. dealt with the lingering feelings so their just in there #my mixtapes #lol hwei #lukai hwei

[wormdolls]

Nail-Biter

I found an old story in my Google Docs from last year that I actually enjoyed re-reading. I might rewrite it one day but as of right now I'm not doing anything with it, so I figured I might as well post it here. I hope y'all enjoy!

I used to bite my nails.

Usually when I say this, people start to reassure me that they do so as well, and that it’s not anything to be ashamed of. What they don’t realise is this: when I say I used to bite them, what I really mean is I used to chew them down into pink stubs, tearing right into the quick, and nibble at the skin around them too. Frankly it’s incredible I didn’t get an infection from that old habit, but my fingers were always red and sore, with a tendency to bleed. But I kept biting. Whenever I was nervous, or agitated, or even just a little absentminded, my teeth would find my fingers and bite them until I physically couldn’t anymore. Then I would feel stupid and insecure for having such a shameful habit.

I used to joke about it, too. Whenever my more fashionable friends commented on their own nail polish, I would feel the need to bring up those little warped gravestones on my fingertips, as if by drawing attention to them they would become less of a burning point of inadequacy for me. I’d go even further and say I took pride in that rather ruinous part of my personality.

One day things changed—or more accurately, I forced the change upon myself. I went out and bought myself a tiny little bottle of black nail polish. That set me on a vague path to recovery, forcing me to consider whether it was worth wasting nail polish just for that momentary relief. It wasn’t an overnight change by any means, and I definitely chewed off more coats than I care to admit (and accidentally consumed more polish than can possibly be good for someone) but it gave my poor hands a chance to heal and made my nails much easier to look at in the process.

Months went by and my nails were now at a decent length for the first time in my life. It may sound trivial to some, but I felt good flaunting my progress, and they looked even better. I had even graduated to various other colours. It feels ironic that on the morning that changed I was painting them black once again. I was just finishing my pinkie finger when my phone rang, almost scaring me into smudging them. I answered knowing full well it would be my mum—nobody else would call when a single text would suffice. Sure enough, I heard the sour notes of her voice greet me. She sounded upset, and since I was unclear on whether I was the cause, I decided to treat her as one treats a landmine.

“Hi, mum.” My voice rose a few notes and I winced, blowing absently on my nails to dry them. “Is something up?”

“I’m just wondering,” I flinched at the accusatory tone—so I was the cause after all, though I’d be lying if I said I knew what I’d actually done, “Why exactly have you been lying to me.”

“Lying about what?” I said, but my mouth was dry and my chest was starting to fill with fear. I began to raise my hand to my mouth.

“Lying about your boyfriend. Or do you not remember? Come clean, Alice, I know you’ve not really been seeing him.”

“No mum,” I mumbled through my fingers, “I told you I stopped.”

I heard her irritable sigh through the phone and felt my ribs tighten. Mum always had liked my boyfriend much better than I had, enough that when we broke up she refused to listen to my reasons and instead insisted we still see each other. I may have told her, aeons ago, that Maybe We’d Try It Out Again, but I certainly hadn’t told her I was seeing him nowadays. She continued to sink her talons of disappointment into my brain with her next words.

“I don’t know why you didn’t stay with him. He was the best you’re ever going to get.” These words made my sore eyes overflow, and I started to sniffle. I don’t remember the rest of that dismal conversation. In all honesty I was just trying to get off the phone as fast as I could, but what I do remember is that when I did put the phone down, I realised that my hand was now free of polish and that my fingertips looked red and wet with spit. I almost howled in outrage—it was just like that woman to take my one good accomplishment and turn it against me.

In the next few weeks, I tried everything to set myself back to rights, but it was all for nought. As my mother’s words played on repeat in my head, my mood sank lower and lower, and my nails seemed to get shorter and shorter. My fingertips started bleeding again. I stopped wanting to show them off.

It all culminated in one particular night. It was raining outside and instead of being out with friends, I was just staring at the wall of my bedroom and biting relentlessly on what remained of my fingers. I could feel the warmth of blood trickling down my hand as I tore into my flesh but I couldn’t stop. My face was numb. Everything was numb, all sensation centred on my hands, as I ripped into them like a starved animal. My breathing sounded weird. My eyes were tearing up. The sensations intensified and I started to pant, sweat dripping down my face. And then…I wrapped my hands around the first bottle of nail polish I could find, and stared at it hatefully. If I hadn’t started painting my nails, I wouldn’t have had the fragile illusion of recovery, and I wouldn’t be stuck in this rut now, feeling so weak and helpless and…and…

Crash.

I don’t allow myself to be around my nail polish anymore. I scrubbed for weeks, but the neon green is never coming out of that wallpaper. I don’t really care anymore though. My fingers are worse than ever and I’m pretty sure one of them is swelling up, but I don’t care about that either.

I just can’t stop biting my nails.

#short story #tw: injury #tw: body horror #I guess #writeblr #creative writing #writing community #writeblr community #short story writing #tw: blood mention #ArkWrites

[lliminall]

Hello hello I am the same feitan loving anon from before!! I just had to let you know that the line “power wash 3000 sloppy toppy” absolutely killed me and I was reading this in the car with my mom 💀 I forced myself to read it multiple times because it made me giggle so damn much 😭😭😭 also loved Paku and Machi 🥺 they wouldn't treat me right but I love them anyways 💙

I figured since I'm here I might as well ask this too: how tf would yanderes deal with a darling during their period 😔 feel like feitan would just be so mean about it! Mocking my pain and pawing at my boobs even though they hurt 😭😰 mean, mean man right there

Anyways, periods are homophobic and I hate them but lovely writing as always!!

anon!! thank you for the kind words, I’m glad my dumbass sense of humor landed well with you lol 😭

the power this question holds…our brains must be syncing because I’ve been thinking about period sex with the yans lately, so I had to take this as an opportunity to write out some headcanons for some of my faves hehe

Feitan is absolutely an asshole about it but he’s also very, very into it. Firstly because it allows him to indulge his sadistic side a bit more, given how sensitive your body is. You’re absolutely right about the boob thing, he’d be kneading the tender fat on your chest and pinching your tits just to see how your face twists up underneath him.

He also loves how needy you become during that time of the month. You can try your hardest not to show it, but he’s more than aware of how good an orgasm feels when you’ve been miserable in bed with cramps all day. Maybe he can even pat himself on the back for it later, when you’ve come three times and the endorphins have numbed your poor body enough that you can finally drift off to sleep. Good boyfriend behavior if he says so himself, you should show a little more gratitude to him for it tbh. (not that he’d ever EVER call himself something as sappy as your boyfriend but you get the point lol)

And of course the blood is nothing he’d shy away from, if anything it’s an added bonus. Not only because it works as a natural lube, but also because it creates such a raw, carnivorous experience for him. Cutting people down is a hobby of his. He’s done it for long enough that the smell of blood becomes exhilarating, and to smell it while he’s driving his hips into yours only gets him that much more worked up. It paints such a striking mess across your torsos, smearing down your thighs, the sheets, and everywhere his hands touch after he fingers you to climax. It’s Feitan lmao I hope y’all weren’t expecting it to be wholesome 😭

can I be extra gross and say that he’d even be willing to eat you out, if you got him riled up enough? hm maybe another time lmao

Chrollo doesn’t mind the blood. It isn’t particularly off-putting or attractive to him. What he loves about period sex is the opportunity it gives him to prove how well he can take care of you. Your cramps are keeping you up? And the painkillers aren’t working? How unfortunate. Lucky for you, he knows just the thing that will take your mind off of it :)

You just don’t have the energy to talk back and refuse him when you’re like this. And…it does make you feel better. He’s so gentle with your body, asking you what feels good, what hurts, bringing you to climax as many times as you’ll allow him. He’s basically a dream boyfriend through all of it. It’s confusing and frustrating, and 100% intentional on his part. He wants to show you how good he could be to you, how prepared he is to give you everything you want (minus a few minor things like, uhh your freedom) if you’d just behave for him.

He’ll take care of you in any way you’ll let him. Ordering in comfort foods, bathing you, throwing a heating pad in the microwave, putting on any dumb show you want to watch and cuddling on the couch. In the beginning I think he would offer all of this himself, but after you two have been through it a few times and you get used to it, I can see him being a little shit and making you ask for it yourself. You’re looking at him all expectantly and he just plays dumb. You’re going to have to ask for it and he wants you to be very specific. Tell him you want him to fuck you or it’s not happening. Ugh

Machi feels a little bad about it, but she comes to almost look forward to your periods. She’s a high-level nen user and hers don’t bother her much, but the same sure can’t be said about you. You just look so pitiful lying on the bed with your heating pad clutched to your belly. So when she comes to offer you help, she can act like she’s doing it for your benefit, obviously. If it’ll get you to stop moping around then fine, she’ll finger you a bit, if she must 🙄✋

It lets her feel like she’s doing something good for you. Getting you painkillers, bringing you a hot pad, refilling your pads and tampons without being asked. She feels more guilt than she’d like to over forcing you to be here with her, and providing for you like this soothes that ache a bit. Of course, she’ll never admit any of it. You’ll probably feel like you’re a burden to her, like she does it all out of begrudging obligation. Maybe someday you’ll be familiar enough to see through the act.

Don’t call her bluff though. It’s humiliating enough to be so wrapped around your finger, but for you to become aware of that fact…it might be more than she can gracefully handle.

#thanks for the question this was so fun to think about!! #mwah kiss for you #hxh.ll #chrollo.ll #feitan.ll #machi.ll #asks.ll #my works.ll

[s1mp3r]

More about me <3

This is an introduction to the creator of this account :)

I'm pretty new to Tumblr when it comes to posts, so bear with me please.

So, you can call me Kaishen (or whatever as long as it's friendly, i don't mind nicknames lol).

I use he/them pronounce.

In my free time I write a lot, like poems or stories. I also read a lot, digitally and traditionally.

I am a German that taught himself English, so it's not Perfect. I am currently learning a few Languages, like Japanese and Spanish.

I have a few (many) Hobbies, which include playing instruments(Saxophone, Piano, Ocarina, Kalimba and Guitar),

skating (rollerskates and skateboarding) and cycling,

Gaming,

Painting (digitally and traditionally)

And actually learning? like i'm a curious mf about greek mythology and demons and stuff.

I support LGBTQ+, as I am in the community myself as an pansexual poly transmasc person lmao. If you don't support or don't/can't accept, you can get off my page. No one's forcing you.

And I have a very huge sense of dark humor :)

(my personal opinion about myself literally is that in real life i'm kinda like levi but on the internet i'm like asmo- my friends approve.)

I don't know what else to say about me, but you can always ask things about me or this blog ♡

Now more to what i'm writing here!

I'll write things for both Obey me games!

I write Fanfics, headcanons, imagines or anything like that, preferably in NB!Mc or M!Mc, but F!Mc also is okay!

And i will probably write my opinions about stuff happening in the apps(like chats or anything) so be prepared for possible spoilers!

I write NSFW (excluding Luke, obviously) and SFW.

I am open for Fluff and Angst as well.

And for the Nsfw.. Don't shy away, everything's on the table. :)

I will write for the Brothers and (un)dateables! <3

I think that was it! I hope you'll have a good day, and if you have requests you can go ahead and tell me! I'm always open for requests and questions! <3

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me #introduction #introductory post

[medemedemed]

I'm going back to work tomorrow, after more than ten days of staying home for... viral... reasons, and I'm feeling off, like a mix of anxiety and bittersweetness and terror and laziness. Obviously, instead of dealing with that like a normal person, I decide to just word vomit on a blog where potentially more than twenty-one thousand people could be reading my most personal spontaneous thoughts. How's that for a Sunday night?

It's weird, isn't it. I matched into my dream program, this is what I've worked for basically all my life. I spent the first two weeks not being totally comfortable in this new skin though; not knowing how to stand, how to speak, what hat to wear. I was slowly shedding my past skin to become a new version of my resident self, while navigating a completely new environment, new people, new systems, new everything. And than I had to abruptly take myself away from that, and spend ten days at home, with absolutely nothing to do. I wanted to be productive, trust me. There were so many things I could've done; I could've studied, painted, written a new song, decluttered my digital space, unpacked that box of decor that's still sitting in my closet... but instead I went for the road with least resistance, the one needing the least energy, and I binged watched movies and TV shows (and read two books!). And part of me is mad at myself for that. But the other part just doesn't care.

It's a bizarre feeling, to feel so unmotivated in this new chapter of my life. I had felt some sort of senioritis hit me back in June, as I was finishing the last chapter, but I feel like it has never left? I still feel unmotivated, lethargic, like I don't belong anywhere. I'm not sure I feel quite at home in this new apartment yet, despite having spent 100% of my time between these four walls in the past few days. I feel lonely, but I also don't want to be social. I feel sad, and it's starting to become comfortable. It's an uneasy mess of emotions, and I don't know why it's happening.

That's a lie. Rationally, I know what it is. It's a lot of adjustment disorder peeking through. It's a lot of new things in very little time. It's also majorly imposter syndrome, hitting me right in the face with all the new responsibilities I've gained on July 1st. And just as I was adapting, I was thrown out into isolation, and I went into complete inertia. And the less you do, the less you want to do. Ain't that how it works? Rationally, I also know that motivation doesn't drive action; action drives motivation. I know that comes tomorrow, once I'll be forced to go to work, to see people, to get back into the role I was learning, the cogwheel will start spinning, and the engine will start again. Rationally I know all that. But right now, right before I get there, I feel like wallowing in this mess, and at the same time hope that I'll get out of here asap.

Until tomorrow, I'm gonna let myself be a potato and potate. But tomorrow is a new day, I know it. It has to be.

Hope your Sunday scaries are not this scary.

(and if you've read this far... whyyy but also i'm sorry)

#blog #mine

[cinqminuteavectoi]

When I tell people, I’m an art student, some of them start to see my life in colours. I have always thought, that was weird, since my days are as gray as theirs - within university walls. As I picked up my folio suitcase one day and walked in my studio, I saw my linen apron hanging by the side of the door. It was 4 in the afternoon and there was a glowing ray of sun lining right at the middle of its white fabric. I took a few baby steps towards the rack and noticed my white apron was no longer white - it was smudged all over with my paint. Old paint, new paint, paints that are cracking a little, streaks of different colours dripping down the pockets. I thought to myself, this must be what people meant? My life, in acrylic colours, literally? Or colours, what are they really? 

When we were little, they were wax crayons. When we were a little older, they were white tutus, pink ribbons, green football fields, red lockers. The colours in our lives aren’t just streaks and strikes of every millimetre in the spectrum, but we find them in our hearts and build a palette for ourselves. People become shades of colours, colours become shades of feelings. That elementary teacher we all loved dearly, is the red apple, sitting juicy on a wooden desk. That girl we all once admired with her hair flowing every time she walks, glides in pink through the school hallway. That feeling which throbs our heart when we meet that person’s eyes in a crowded room, overflows our chest with a wave of red, pixelated, flying popping hearts. Colours are the red shade of smudgy lipstick on the first date with our first boyfriend, Colours are the honey yellowed sunlights drenching our front yard. Colours are the occasional bouquet sitting by our window in the morning. Our lives are canvases of vibrant pigments, with every stage tinted in shades of everything dear and everything less. Ultimately, the meaning of colour is messy. On one level, there seems to be some universal experience of the electromagnetic spectrum on living things, where short and long waves cause different effects to our being on the most basic level. But on another it is highly personal. Colour doesn’t exist within a thing; it is the experience an outside agent has of the thing.

We live by the rhythm and tempo of colour changes indicating the passage of time and the cycle of the seasons. We wake up every morning to the deep blue sky before dawn gives way to a paler blue light that permeates mornings, followed by the more yellow hue of the afternoon and then the red light of the evening when the sun sets. These changes can be so gradual and steady that they are barely noticeable, but nonetheless they colour our awareness of the passing day. The air we breathe, the ground under our feet, the Sun, the Moon and the stars—all are vibrating their own particular colour essence that both sets them apart and unites them with us as one, in the essence of life itself. Even seasons highlight very different colours, with the fresh, brand new greens of spring darkening as summer progresses, then comes an inferno of orange, yellow and gold as autumn settles in only a few months later. Winter launches into an austere note, with few remaining vibrant colours, and sometimes a smattering of snow that eradicates the lingering green, reducing the outlook to a simple contrast between darkness and light. Colours give every object, be it animate or inanimate, an identity of its own, helping it to be distinguished from the rest. If nature is forced to re-envelope itself in black and white, how would one differentiate between the rising sun that radiates hope from the setting sun that calls for rest? How would a lady understand the feelings hidden in the depths of a young lad who had gifted her a rose in black and white? Should young ones then be forced to memorise the shades of black and the feelings they represent, a second time? 

Colours make the world, and colours make our lives. Amaranth pink is the colour of the five cent bubblegum you were always caught chewing in middle school. Thistle purple is the colour that sank beneath your skin when your bruises surfaced to tell stories of the experiences you adventured through as a young and fearless child. Cerise is the colour your heart beats when you look at someone in the middle of a conversation and truly internalise just how deeply you care for them. Tyrian is the colour of intimate anticipation, the hue that hangs in the air on first dates, the shade that lingers between desire and longing. Catalina blue is the colour that calmly bleeds into the night sky minutes before the twilight breaks. Alabaster ivory is the colour of the sugar your father would scoop into his bitter coffee right before he would pick you up in his arms to kiss you goodbye in the morning. Sable beige is the colour of the sand you pressed your feet into the first day you saw the Ocean. Maize yellow is the colour that floods into your apartment at 7am, blanketing every corner of your room in a new beginning. Those. Those are my colours. The colours that made my life. What are yours?