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ofthecaravel · 1 month

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Heaven In Time

Chapter 1: Thoroughfare

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: Danny, en route to California to find love, picked up small town runaway Sam on a Texas thoroughfare and has been on the road ever since. While Sam adjusts to life as himself, Danny's wondering if he's found love without even leaving the South.

Tags: Religious trauma, mentions of homophobia, Anxiety, very sweet little crushes, idk all very soft when its not Tense

Words: 5.4k

A/N: HEAVILYYYYYY inspired by Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain, even borrowed a lyric here and there. Any and all credit to my beloved Hayden. First chapter of ??? maybe 4?? but I haven't decided. There's going to be more mention of Sam's questionable Southern Baptist Christian upbringing in those and I understand that may not be everyone's cup of tea so feel free to scroll if that may be upsetting for you.

“Do you think we’re gonna get arrested?”

Over the gentle splash of the thin, chlorinated water, Sam heard Danny’s long sigh. Usually he laughed at all of Sam’s misplaced little comments and queries, but sometimes he just sighed. Sam knew he didn’t mean anything harsh by it, but it definitely didn’t feel good.

“Not if you don’t say anything,” Danny answered plainly. A smile ghosted his tired face as he rotated to face Sam, who stared back as he awkwardly bobbed with his long hair trailing behind him like a veil. After however many dusty miles and state lines they’d crossed, it always felt good when they had a motel to crash at instead of the cramped cabin of Danny’s pickup. And it felt twice as good when the motel had a pool, especially when it was nice and late at night and there was no one else around. Sam wasn’t much of a swimmer, but he was happy to tread water and watch Danny float. His broad chest would peek just over the surface of the water and his eyes would close while his dark curls moved like the fingers of lazy clouds.

Yeah, Sam was happy to watch that.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Sam murmured, watching his fingers flex anxiously under the water in the refracted view the harsh fluorescents provided. With the country sky full of nothing but mosquitoes and the occasional whistling breeze, the yellowing pool lights were the only thing illuminating them. Sam felt suddenly self conscious thinking of how washed out he must look in this rare moment where he was the one being watched. He turned to the side, only offering Danny his profile.

“They won’t know the credit card ain’t mine until we’re in Arizona,” Danny insisted in a hushed voice. “And even then, I didn’t give the desk my real name. We’re golden if you can keep that mouth of yours shut. Can you do that for me, cowboy?”

“Sure I can.” Sam bristled, but knew Danny’s request was justified. Ever since Danny had taken pity on him and picked him up on that thoroughfare back in Texas, Sam never seemed to be able to do the right thing. He had gotten as far as he had in an attempt to remove himself from the suppressing influence of his uber religious hometown, but so far it seemed like he was still dragging it along with him. It was an embarrassing first impression to leave on someone as great as Danny was turning out to be, but he hadn’t left Sam behind yet, so Sam figured he must have some redeeming qualities that kept him around.

“Atta boy,” Danny smiled, his eyes closing as he lolled his head back and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. “Christ alive, I needed this. How long do you think we drove today?”

“5 hours?” Sam guessed, thinking back on the day. “Felt longer ‘cause of the sun.”

“Damn that sun,” Danny cursed. “Burned the hell out of my nose, too.”

“We can get lotion or something at the next gas station,” Sam offered. Truthfully, he found the ruddy blush on Danny’s nose and freckled cheeks extremely flattering, but he knew it had to hurt. Growing up in Alabama, Sam knew a thing or two about sunburn.

“With what money?” Danny laughed humorlessly, sighing again and running a hand over his face. “Although at this point, I’d be willing to skip a dinner to get my hands on some lotion. Mm. Not that I don’t appreciate your presence, but...”

Sam blinked blankly, feeling an implication pass him by like they often did. He didn’t say anything in return and sank a little further into the pool, trying not to feel even more stupid than he already did. Being tired certainly wasn’t helping, but he was really starting to feel the weight of all of his graceless actions from the past week pile on him as they swam in silence. Hopefully Danny would want to head up to their room soon and Sam could just try again the next day.

Danny noticed Sam’s silence and opened his heavy eyes to observe him with a worried look. Sam’s neck was craned and the sharp point of his nose grazed the water as he continued to stare into the palms of his submerged hands. He was halfway to prayer by the looks of it, and Danny guessed that probably wasn’t too far from the truth. It was a state of mind Sam never really seemed to leave. Danny remembered the scandalized look on Sam’s face when they’d shared their first diner meal together and Danny had picked his fork right up and gotten to work when the waitress had brought their plates. Now he knew to wait and let Sam save them with a quick round of grace before eating. Sam had never asked for his hand to hold when doing it, but somewhere between the Texas border and New Mexico, Danny had offered it up and they’d been doing it that way ever since. It sure made it a hell of a lot more tolerable for Danny to wait for Sam’s long winded recitations with his slender hand in Danny’s. He really didn’t mind too much, especially after he’d begun collecting little glimpses of the seemingly excruciating evangelical life that Sam had left behind in Alabama. Danny didn’t pry, but there was a lot about Sam that he didn’t know. He watched Sam lit up in the pale, shifting luminance coming from the pool and realized with a strange, absent pang that he wanted to know. Maybe all of it, actually.

“Not a star in the sky,” Danny commented dreamily, tilting his neck back to stare at the pitch black sky after another long minute of staring at Sam left him feeling flushed. “It was always easy to pick ‘em out when I was on the farm, but I really have to squint when I’m in cities sometimes. It’s a crying shame.”

“We had to have all the lights out in town at a certain time so I always got to see the stars,” Sam replied in a small voice. “My brothers were always looking for Castor and Pollux, but we got lost after finding Orion every single time. Always forgot whether to look up or down or west or what.”

Sam smiled at the memory, remembering watching his older brothers bicker in whispers in front of the window while pressing fingers to the glass and eventually calling Sam in for help. Their parents fell asleep fast and heavy, so nights were usually when he and his siblings really got to be themselves. Sam found himself tired during the days almost all the time, but he’d carried his drooping eyelids with a bounce in his step. Even on the rare instances when he dozed off during study or services, he’d take a ruler to the knuckles with a smile.

“I’ve always been partial to Orion,” Danny agreed, searching it out as he said it. “Probably because it’s easy to find and I’m a simple man when it comes to stuff like that.”

“You’re plenty smart,” Sam complimented. He finally lifted his head from his gloomy stance, his ear resting on his shoulder as he turned his smile on Danny. “Especially with maps. We’d be halfway to Argentina if I were the one navigating.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” Danny laughed. “We can go there after we find love in California, how about that?”

“Perfect,” Sam complied, feeling a familiar sour rush of adrenaline when reminded of their end goal. It was ignorant to feel shocked over and over when he thought about it, especially considering that talk of Danny’s unknown Californian love were some of the first words Danny had ever said to him. Danny had pulled up next to Sam on the side of the road in his beat up pick up truck, told him not to run, and asked if he wanted to go see the West with him.

“‘Cause love’s out there,” Daniel had explained after Sam had hopped right in. “And I can’t leave it be.”

And Sam had agreed. Out of luck to spend and no more energy in his body to spend on walking, it was the perfect escape. It still was. It’s just that the more time he shared with Danny, the more he disliked the thought of Danny sharing time with anyone other than him. Sam was suddenly very sure he was greedy and selfish and wicked, and he made plans to pray on it after Danny had gone to sleep.

“Smart,” Danny echoed with an airy laugh, finally lifting his hair from the water and shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know about all that. If this were a movie, I’m pretty sure I’d be the muscle of the operation.”

“I guess that’d make sense. How much can you lift?”

Danny gave Sam a mischievous look and shrugged, hoping the smirk creeping onto his face didn’t give away his plans for what he’d do next.

“Not sure,” Danny answered coolly. “How much do you weigh?”

Before Sam could respond, Danny rushed forward as fast as the water allowed and grabbed Sam around the waist, boosting him up with a noisy splash. Sam shrieked initially, but it gave way to a surprised laugh, every nerve alight with buzzing heat as Danny lifted him up. Danny could only manage to keep him up for another few moments before buckling at the knee from the close contact, allowing Sam a little time to plug his nose before Danny dunked him under.

Sam met the shifting blur of the pale water and felt a jarring, overwhelming peace as the water swallowed all sound and sensation and he began to sink to the bottom. For a second, he thought he might like to stay there forever, just floating and free from everything he didn’t understand about what was happening to him, what had already happened. What he wanted to happen.

Sam didn’t even feel the sizzle of his lungs begging for air until he opened his eyes best he could and saw the blur of what was waiting for him up above.

Now, Sam had obviously been far too young for him to remember his baptism, but as he brought himself back to consciousness and pushed himself out of the water and into Danny’s arms, he imagined it was a similar experience. Without really thinking, his arms went around Danny’s neck and he breathed in a great, shuddering gasp, desperately filling his chest with air as Danny’s arms reflexively wrapped around him and kept Sam pinned to his chest as he coughed.

“Fuck, Sam, did you forget to breathe?” Danny whispered urgently, resisting the urge to shout and wake the other motel patrons. “I mean, pardon my French, but you scared the shit out of me for a second there!”

“Sorry,” Sam choked out as he began to control his breathing and let it give way to an embarrassed laugh. “I got distracted for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’d definitely say you were coming up on a minute!” Danny sputtered, patting Sam’s back in a last ditch effort to knock any water loose. “I’ve never seen anyone go that long underwater. Good lord. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise,” Sam insisted, leaning back to flash Danny a sincere look of assurance. Curiously, he didn’t feel the need to unlock his arms from behind Danny’s neck when doing so. In the same way, Danny didn’t feel the need to release his grip on Sam, keeping their bare chests flush as Sam comically mimicked drawing in deep breaths and releasing them to demonstrate his capability.

“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Danny relented, despite the anxiety still fluttering in his chest. “Just don’t scare me like that again. I get nervous enough when you’re out of my sight, and now you’re telling me I gotta worry about you when you’re right in front of me? Phew.”

“What do you mean you get nervous when I’m out of your sight?” Sam laughed, his dark brow crinkling inquisitively as his stomach gave a little flip.

“Just worried you’ll get to wandering,” Danny replied with faux nonchalance. “Don’t want some lawless vagabond picking you off the street.”

“Ain’t that what you did?”

Danny tossed his head back and let out a loud laugh, knowing he needed to be much quieter than he was but doing nothing to rectify it. Sam burst into a round of hushed giggles and attempted to put his hands over Danny’s mouth as he shushed him theatrically. They goodnaturedly tussled for a minute before Danny finally let Sam go, pushing him back and looking away with a nervous laugh still running its course in his chest.

“I got enough law in me to keep an eye on you,” Danny continued on, flicking his wrist lightly to splash Sam. “Can’t have you leaving me to drive the rest of the way on my own.”

“Well, I only ever leave if there’s not much worth staying for,” Sam muttered. It wasn’t entirely true when considering the importance of what he’d left behind in favor of hitchhiking aimlessly in pressing Texan heat, namely his family. He felt guilty saying it, but Danny took his words with pillow softness. His laugh melted into a shy smile that fell on Sam like a kiss on the forehead.

“Lucky me, I suppose,” Danny smiled, punching Sam gently on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best to make the rest of the trip worth staying for.”

“You won’t have to try too hard,” Sam replied sincerely. “I’m having a lot of fun so far.”

“Yeah?” Danny questioned with an amused arch of his eyebrow. “You’re having fun coughing up dust in the passenger seat of a beat up truck that doesn’t work half the time? You’re having fun having to share flat, suspiciously stained motel beds with some sorry hick you met two weeks ago?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds terrible,” Sam laughed. “But it is fun. It’s the in-between stuff that’s fun.”

“Like what?” Danny prodded, giving Sam another playful little splash.

He asked without any real pressure, but there was a big part of Danny that really needed to know if he was making this spontaneous road trip a good time for Sam. It seemed a little ridiculous to some extent considering that when Danny set off, he wasn’t expecting any kind of lingering company in the slightest. At the end of the day, Sam was a borderline neurotic runaway that Danny had taken a chance on after some strange gut feeling had told him to take a left and not a right while driving aimlessly. But at the same time, Danny was really starting to like him. It both confused and warmed him.

“I don’t know!” Sam sputtered. “It’s always fun to look through gas stations for stupid knick knacks. That mood ring keychain was pretty cool, you have to admit.”

Danny only laughed in response. The tacky keychain had pretty obviously been for kids, but with the way Sam’s eyes had lit up when he pressed his thumb to the heat reactive surface, Danny had found that fact the least important part of the equation.

“It’s fun when the diner menus have stupid names for the sandwiches,” Sam continued, feeling increasingly more embarrassed talking about himself. “And I definitely have fun when I get to listen to my station on the radio.”

“And you can continue to have that fun in half hour intervals,” Danny asserted, trying not to roll his eyes while recalling Sam’s beloved church music station. “Anything else?”

“Hmm. This is pretty fun,” Sam answered with a quick, impish shrug. “Even though you tried to drown me.”

“Hey!” Danny scoffed while Sam sailed into another round of delighted giggles. “I’ll show you drowning!”

Danny reached out and they wrassled again, a flurry of arms and bickering laughter as Danny pretended to try and dunk Sam under the water. Once again, Sam’s arms went around Danny’s neck as they struggled, and once again he made no move to remove them when Danny slowed. However, this time around, when Sam felt the careless adrenaline fueling him with a whisper of unknown courage, he seized it and gave Danny a quick kiss on the cheek. It was no more than 2 seconds of his lips on Danny’s slightly stubbled skin, but it struck Danny like a slap to the face. Sam released his grip on him and gave him a good natured smile.

“Seriously, this is so fun,” Sam insisted. “But we’ll never sleep if we keep being rowdy. Bed?”

“Good thinking,” Danny replied a little too quickly, successfully fighting a quiver in his voice and letting out a silent, choked sigh when Sam turned his back on him and started making his way to the edge of the pool. Facing away from Danny allowed Sam a moment to let his innocent, grateful gesture sink in. He began to panic slightly, rushing out a hurried mental prayer that Danny hadn’t taken it the wrong way. Sam almost turned to apologize, but decided it would be more awkward if he did, instead electing to haul himself out of the pool and grab his towel as if nothing out of the ordinary was raging inside his head.

Meanwhile, Danny definitely wasn’t taking it the wrong way. But he was taking it in a very surprising way. Feeling sudden and immense guilt, he realized that he was really going to have to book it to the hook where his towel hung in order to cover the “reaction” he was having to Sam’s little kiss. Thankfully, he was able to make it without Sam seeing. Danny felt grateful for his Southern charm when Sam finally did turn his doe eyed smile back on him and Danny was able to steer their conversation in a new direction as they walked to their room and he kept his towel tightly wound around his waist.

But neither one of them really recovered from it. Something so small and instantaneous weighed heavily in the back of their minds as they went about their separate nighttime routines and turned away from each other when Danny turned the light off.

After an infuriating hour of staring up at the flaking ceiling and listening to the muffled whistle of a keening wind outside the window, Sam finally heard Danny begin to snuffle and sigh, signifying sleep. He released a pent up sigh and rubbed a hand over his eyes as he tried to manifest sleep. A few hours prior he had been nearly nodding off at dinner, but now that he was alone in the inviting dark with Danny, it was hard to keep his eyes closed. Usually he whispered himself to sleep with psalms that lulled him into a fuzzy, dreamless void, but it felt wrong to do so with the imagery pervading his mind. None of it was graphic, simply a replay of how it felt to float in Danny’s arms. And how safe he felt with Danny’s hand on his back. How the feeling of his mouth on Danny’s cheek made him wonder how it would feel if it were the other way. How it would’ve felt if Danny had picked that moment to turn slightly, causing Sam to catch his lips instead of his stubble.

It was shameful, but Sam felt himself tensing and carefully guiding each muscle so that he could turn over to lay on his side facing Danny’s back. Unable to lay alone with his thoughts any longer, he decided that the sight of the body next to him would be enough to quell the uncomfortable desire in his chest that was beginning to frighten him slightly. However, he was startled to find that Danny had turned over at some point as well. Sam’s heart flitted and jabbed at him from his ribcage as he took in the sight of Danny’s cheek pressed to the pillow, his mouth ever so slightly ajar as he drew in deep breaths. He was laying on his chest, and Sam fought the urge to trace the swells of muscles in his arms as they came to cross underneath the pillow beneath his head. There was a needling, demanding pull in Sam’s stomach now, one that yanked and strained the longer Sam took in the sight of Danny’s placid, perfect face in the spectral moonlight. It puppeteered him to slide a trembling hand up and delicately cup Danny’s freckled cheek. Sam felt as though he was doing something exceedingly terrible when his thumb traced a gentle journey over Danny’s skin that still buzzed with heat from his light burn. Danny drew in a big breath and released it through his nose, stern eyebrows knitting slightly in a dream as Sam screamed at himself in his head to move his hand, flip back over, and just go to sleep. Yet it seemed like such an insurmountable task now that he’d felt Danny’s breath on his wrist. Worse, it reminded Sam of the proximity of Danny’s lips to his own, only inches away and closer even to his fingers. Sam’s mind raced as he became obsessed with possibility.

His dreams were quickly dashed in a moment of blinding, white hot panic as Danny sniffed and stirred, stretching his arms slightly as his eyelids fluttered. Even with Danny rousing, Sam couldn’t find the strength to move his hand. He kept it resting with soft pressure on Danny’s cheek as he panicked about whether or not to feign sleep. All the while, Danny blinked fully and his eyes came into focus. Sam settled for a fake, heavy lidded gaze, doing his own round of “half asleep” blinking as Danny studied his expression. Danny let out an amused huff through his nose and his arm facing Sam loudly disturbed the sheets as it lifted from under the pillow and his hand clumsily tapped against Sam’s own on his face.

“You’re dreaming, Sam,” Danny mumbled, his voice low and grumbling as he fought to speak without falling asleep again. “Go to sleep.”

“Not dreaming,” Sam whispered tiredly. He watched as Danny’s hand stretched and rested fully over his own, Danny’s fingers curling a little as his eyes closed again and he began to doze.

It was such a little thing, but that pull inside of Sam snapped. There was something overwhelming him, and in his exhausted, newly freed state of mind, he saw no other option but to succumb. For the first time, when he felt the compulsion to pray for his salvation, he ignored it outright.

Shifting forward, Sam used his hand on Danny’s face as leverage to gently pull himself forward and press his lips to Danny’s. He did so with no real pressure, simply lingering as long as Danny would allow him to and trapping a shivering breath inside his lungs as his eyes closed at the relief. He fully expected Danny to spit and push him off the bed, leaving him right then and there to hop in his truck and find California all on his own like he was supposed to. His fingers pressed into Danny’s skin at the thought, holding on to him as long as he could before this impulse came back to bite him in what he was sure would be seconds.

Instead, he was met with the ginger push of Danny’s lips meeting him halfway. It only lasted for a couple of seconds, and Sam could taste the lingering whisper of mint toothpaste on his breath behind the numbing warmth of his tongue, which did no more but tap momentarily at Sam’s closed lips. When Danny’s lips unstuck from his, Danny barely pulled away to speak, giving Sam the luxury of their close proximity for longer than he ever could have dreamed of.

“Now you’re just getting my hopes up,” Danny breathed with a laugh that lasted only a fraction of a second and seemed more like a punch of air from his chest.

Not really understanding what Danny meant, Sam flew into another panic. He could no longer feign a sleepy stare and blinked rapidly with restless nerves waking him up all the way. His heart pounded in his ears and he prayed his hand wouldn’t prickle with sweat from the dread beginning to course through him. All at once, he could hear a chorus of a hundred voices from back home reminding him of the great, divine consequence of what he was doing.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, his eyes immediately prickling with anxious tears. “I just…”

“I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow and feeling all…you know, guilty or whatever ‘cause of something you did half asleep,” Danny murmured. He cursed his moral compass pointing him to true north, even in this miraculous circumstance when the dial seemed to be spun on its axis entirely.

“I’m awake,” Sam argued in a whisper. “That’s why I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that with you sleeping, that’s-”

“I was awake, too,” Danny replied simply. “I mean, when...”

An infuriating, tense minute passed between the two of them. There was much to be said, and also nothing at all. Too little time had passed in each other’s company to have any kind of profound feeling to confess, and yet there was a confounding magnetism that left them staring into the other’s eyes with heavy breath and rattling hearts. Danny’s hand eventually fell from where it had lain over Sam’s, but before Sam’s heart could sting with hurt at the loss, he felt Danny’s arm adjust to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. With this motion, their lips connected again, and Sam breathed in sharply through his nose as he attempted to fall into the rhythm of this disarming, second ever kiss. The matchbox capacity of the motel room and the sleeping world beyond its cracked windows were swallowed up by the fervor of Danny’s shuddering breath and the heat rolling off his skin. Sam heard the chastising chorus in the back of his conscience begin to sing again when Danny’s hand on his lower back tightened its grip. His heart hammered thinking about roaring hellfire and scores of taunting devils, but when Danny carefully rolled Sam onto his back and Sam opened his eyes, he saw only an angel.

“This sure is a step up from your little gesture in the pool,” Danny acknowledged, caging Sam in with an arm at his side and another by his head.

“I was only saying thank you,” Sam muttered sheepishly, struggling to speak with his throat so dry and his muscles so alive with flickering reactions he fought to suppress.

“What are you saying now?”

Sam fell silent. He had no experiences to draw on or words in his vocabulary to place what he felt about Danny. Kind, gracious, handsome Danny, hovering over him with the patience he doled out time and time again when lesser men would have rolled their eyes and drove off.

“I think…” Sam started, fighting to sort his scattered, uninformed feelings. “I’m still saying thank you.”

Unexpectedly, Danny’s eyes flickered with apprehension. Sam’s eyebrows knit with confusion when Danny leaned back to straddle Sam’s hips, suddenly wearing a somber expression. Sam’s bottom lip quaked and pouted as he hurriedly propped himself up on his elbows.

“What?” Sam blurted. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, fuck, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?”

“I just really hope you don’t feel like you have to…do anything for me just ‘cause I’m giving you a ride,” Danny said earnestly. “I’d be really sore if you thought of me that way. I don’t expect a single thing from you.”

Sam’s heart gave a deep, aching clench as Danny’s words sank in. He felt his eyes nearly welling with tears again as he watched Danny look down at his hands in his lap before flicking his eyes up to Sam, probing him for a response.

“No,” Sam replied firmly, pushing off the bed to sit straight and stare up properly into Danny’s eyes. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I would never. Never ever. You should know that, Danny, come on. I, it’s just…”

He trailed off again, blushing with embarrassment as the words finally came to him, plain and true.

“I just like you is all,” Sam admitted, thankful for the shade of night to conceal the flush he knew was painting his face pink. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep apologizing when you got nothing to apologize for,” Danny accused quietly. His hands were close to shaking as he tried to calm himself down, but it was hard not to shiver at Sam’s confession.

“Sorry. Product of my upbringing, I guess.”

“Well, I got a bone to pick with a lot of things about your upbringing, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Me too,” Sam whispered truthfully.

Danny studied Sam’s face with that familiar worried look he found himself sporting every day now, taking a minute to smooth Sam’s hair back and get lost in his dark, doll-like gaze.

“I know it wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam went on with a small, shameful voice.

Danny let out an airy, one note laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes, finally plucking up the courage to cup Sam’s cheek as Sam had done to him.

“I’m not even sure what ‘the plan’ is anymore,” Danny sighed, finding it difficult to look anywhere but Sam’s rosy frown. “I know what I said, but I think deep down all I really wanted to do was go. California just seemed like the best place to start.”

“So…” Sam coaxed, unable to stop himself from tilting his chin into Danny’s grip. “When will you know where you’re going?”

“Now that I’ve met you, Sam? I think I know where I’m headed.”

Before Sam could bring up any matters of direction, of Danny’s supposed destined Californian love, or of what was to become of them as a them, Danny kissed Sam for a third time. Nothing special, nothing mind blowing. Yet with it, Sam felt every saying about the magic number, three strikes, and the Holy Trinity itself fade in comparison. And when Danny laid him down again, Sam swore he could see the stars.

The next morning, Sam sat in the passenger seat of the truck with his head hanging out the window, chestnut hair spilling behind him in the wind as the bare fields and pale blue sky rolled on by. With his shirt unbuttoned to remedy the heatwave, anyone would’ve been able to see the small, tender bruises lining his collarbone and marching down his chest. Beside him, Danny kept one eye firmly on the empty road and the other on his passenger. On a whim, he took a hand off the wheel to fiddle with the radio, adept fingers spinning the knob until a choral worship song came crackling over the waves. Sam turned his head at the music and made a fond sound, shoving Danny’s shoulder with a light push and settling back into his seat. However, after a minute of listening, Sam found himself reaching to change the station. He settled on a rock station blasting a song dripping with bass and drums, nodding his head along to it curiously as Danny shot him an incredulous smile.

“I fear I’ve corrupted you,” Danny laughed, reaching out to muss Sam’s hair.

“Good,” Sam hummed. “I needed it.”

“Yeah, you did. Just remember you promised not to go running off on me. And no bar fights. And before you ask, tattoos are a solid maybe.”

Sam laughed, pressing up against the headrest as he kicked his boots up on the dashboard and allowed himself to recline. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this might be one of the first times in his life he felt truly comfortable. It also crossed his mind that Danny’s persistent worry of Sam running off into the night was becoming increasingly more ridiculous. As he looked at the man driving next to him, who was miraculously unaware of the midday sun setting his curls and perfect side profile alight, Sam knew with confidence there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Chapter 2!

#the day i stop writing fanfics based off of ethel cain songs is the day i die #i will never stop or get better or learn #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #sanny gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van art #karoufiction

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heyidkyay · 6 months

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Five

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: IT'S FINALLY HERE. THEY MEET. AH IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY. But I have just finished writing part 6! So I figured why not post 5? SO here it is, hope you enjoy? X

>Just a note! So there's no confusion, this first section of 5 coincides at the same time as the last part of 4, as in where heading into the studio it was seen from Matty's POV, this starts with Mouse's and then goes onto them actually meeting one another! Okay? ta:)

Warnings: um, moody matty, lil bit of self-consciousness, mentions of scarring

Masterlist

I was running a bit behind schedule. Which wasn't too unusual for me, what with being the single parent to a rambunctious four year old, but this time around I’d somehow managed to allow myself to be waylaid by Adi's antics.

Apparently upon entering the studio this morning, everything had just felt a little 'off'.

And after having announced that, I’d had to sit back and watch on whilst Adi had trudged out of the room in her heavy black boots, only to come back a few moments later with a stub of sage in one hand and a lighter in the other.

Honestly, I was pretty sure that I could still taste the thick plume of smoke that I’d been forced to inhale each time I breathed in, even after having quickly made my escape. But yet it clung to the back of my throat uncomfortably and I couldn't avoid the grimace that wrinkled my face as I tried to rid myself of the sooty tang which coated my tongue.

But that was just Adi, I supposed. And it was one of the many things I loved most about her, how she was so unapologetically herself- even if it meant that I was forced to cough up a lung-full of herbs every once in a while.

See, it was actually Adi’s grandmother that had gotten her into performing all of the rites and cleanses she did so often. The woman was a real spiritualist and had taken Ads in at a very young age, so Adi had practically grown up around it all. She often spoke about how her grandmother had wanted her to follow down the same path and show a deeper interest, but Adi had always been much more fascinated by music, fashion and all things that revolved around tech.

She was a proper whiz with a computer, but that didn't mean she didn't have an appreciation for her grandmother’s beliefs, nor a knack.

"Are you still coughing up a storm, you drama queen?"

Speak of the devil, and he doth appear, I thought dryly, as Adi reemerged from out of the hazy recording booth. The sage now nowhere to be seen.

I rolled my eyes at her and continued to fiddle with the wires I had wound in my hand.

"I can't fucking stand the stuff, Ads."

Adi merely smirked at me as she bypassed, practically skipping.

"I know, but it's always good to be prepared! Who knows what we'll have to deal with when the infamous diva finally arrives!"

I snorted at Adi's mocking tone and couldn't quite hide the quirk of my lip.

"Fair enough. Just leave that door wide open, will you? And grab the fan while you're at it, as well. Don't need him, and whoever's tagging along, catching on."

I watched Adi laugh in amusement as she wandered over towards the sofa, the sweet sound echoing around the open space.

"On it, Captain!"

The two of us worked quickly after that, whirling around the loft, and one another, in an attempt to get things sorted before our guest's imminent arrival.

It wasn't long before we both recognised the telltale sign of a car pulling up outside though, and upon hearing the engines rumble die out I immediately caught Adi's eye from across the room.

It was a silent challenge and with it there was a frenzied rush to see who could get to the nearest window first. Adi had promptly tossed her notes towards my desk and taken to skidding across the hardwood floors, whilst I had all but thrown myself over the back of the settee.

Adi made it there first, even in her heavy docs, and claimed the windowsill with an unnecessary amount of arrogance. She grinned primly at me as I reluctantly slowed my approach, leaving me to lean in close so that we could both try and get a good look in.

But from this angle, there was practically no use. I craned my neck as far as my torso would willingly allow me and could only just make out the tail-end of a sleek car parked up on the curb. I assumed that meant Healy had arrived.

"Can you see anything?" Came Adi's impatient voice, a hushed whisper even though we were three flights up.

"No." I grunted back, "Your fat head's in the way."

Ads scoffed at me and I didn't have to look at her to know that she was now glaring up at me. I grinned.

"My head is perfectly sized, thank you! But seeing as we’re on the topic of abnormalities, you're practically half giraf-”

Adi immediately cut her snide comment short when a loud voice suddenly trumped the usual roaring noise that went hand in hand with the large city that was London.

"Right my!" We heard.

The voice was sharp and irritated, fuelled by an obvious anger, and soon trailed off into a muffled grit.

Adi's head snapped back to the window at the very sound of it, whilst I couldn't help but question just how exactly she’d managed to contort her body in the way she had, long legs tucked up beside her as she pressed her torso against the glass to listen closer.

The voice rang out again, sharper this time, and my eyes shot down to meet Adi’s own.

In return, she gifted me a catty side eye- obviously enraptured by the sudden drama that had seemingly been handed to us- and I could do nothing but shrug at her in response, somewhat baffled.

I pulled away slowly when the voices didn't seem ready to rise again, and silently wished that I could've been a fly on the wall during a conversation like that.

Clasping Adi's wrist, I gently tugged her away. "Come on, you best get down there before things go sideways and we end up on the backend of it all."

"Me?!" Adi crowed back, her eyes wide in alarm as she let me drag her back from the windowsill. "Why not you?"

My face scrunched up at the very thought.

"Ah go on, Ads. Please! You're so good with shit like this, can charm your way out of practically anything."

She narrowed her eyes in response. "I know what you're doing."

I pursed my lips together in an attempt to keep up the innocent act, already feeling a grin cropping up. “Is it working? ‘Cause we both know you’re the sweetest talker around, Wells. Could talk your way out of police custody, you like.”

Adi clucked her tongue but moved to cross the loft. “Yeah, yeah. But we both know you’re just being a coward! What, you really aren't ready to face him yet?”

I was swift to spin around on my heel to hide the truth my expression conveyed, and ignored the question altogether as I headed back towards the booth. I also pretended not to hear the cow’s delighted cackles as she began to descend the staircase.

"Just make sure the camera's are rolling before I get back! And wish me luck!"

"Luck!" I called out loudly over my shoulder before unplugging the fan and then storing it away. She was definitely going to need it.

I busied myself with the last of my tasks afterwards, an odd feeling of anxiety welling in my chest as I went through the usual motions.

It was strange for me to linger too long on thoughts of nervousness, because I usually had too much going on in other aspects of my life. Making things a little too difficult to concentrate on the many things that could possibly go wrong.

This time around though, we weren’t dealing with the usual up and coming artist, new to the industry and overwhelmingly pleased to be invited on. No, this time we’d practically been fed to the sharks.

Because, of all the possible people, we’d just had to have landed Matty Healy.

I started to question it all again. How exactly I'd gotten myself wrapped up in a mess this big in the first place and only hoped that Adi fared alright with dealing with Healy on her own for a while.

Maybe it had been cowardly of me to send her in first but I really didn’t think I could face him just yet, seeing as it had been me that had set off the pyramid of fireworks that had seemingly burned a hole in his life.

A dull vibration pulsed in my back pocket, breaking me from my train of thought, and I found that I was very much thankful for the sudden distraction it offered.

Messages now Finnleyyy Just got back to the gallery, Teds was fine when I dropped him off! If the show goes on any later feel free to message me and I'll pick him up x

I smiled down at the message.

At least that was one less thing I had to worry about, Teddy was safe and well, already settled in at the local nursery and in all honesty, I truly didn't know where I'd be without Finn, especially on days like these.

I was quick to fire back a text full of appreciation before I slipped the phone back into my pocket.

It was just as I had finished clearing up the rest of the studio that I heard a sudden rush of voices trail up the stairwell, and stilled at the very sound.

It was Adi’s voice which carried the furthest and so I ran my teeth along my bottom lip before ultimately deciding that running and hiding was my best bet. So I shot across the loft floor and into the recording booth to stow myself away.

Adi didn’t give me the chance to worry excessively over every little detail that could go wrong as the group of visitors grew marginally closer. So to keep myself busy for a minute or two, or to rather calm my erratic heart, I chose to fiddle with the last of the cameras that had been set up.

I felt, more than heard, the moment they passed the top of the stairwell as the wooden floorboards of the studio tended to creak beneath added weight.

It was pretty much impossible to hear what was being said on the other side of the recording booth though, due to its soundproof walls, but that tiny fact didn’t stop me from practically sealing myself against the door in an attempt to decipher the perfect moment for me to intervene on the situation outside.

For days I’d been practically driving myself stir crazy over all of this, I knew that I just needed to get it over and done with, save myself the stress before I brought another headache on. Because I could do this, he was just some guy. Famous or not.

So with a final albeit shaky breath, I braced myself and opened up the door.

Thankfully, I was almost instantly met by the comforting sound of Adi's voice.

“Ah, there she is! Was wondering when you’d show your mug. Fancy a cuppa, babe? Fixing up a few.”

“Please.” I breathed out a sigh and dragged a hand through my hair as I wandered towards the kitchenette, catching sight of the two bodies currently commandeering our tiny seating area.

I focused on the man sitting closest and the first thing I noticed about him was the sleek haircut he’d styled, it was clipped closely at the sides but left long on top to keep the thinning hairs going in one direction. He was different from what I’d expected, but not just because he was older, he also wore this brilliant smile when he moved to peer up at me, sincere enough that I felt my doubts ebb as I smiled back, taking in the rest of him and his fine fitting clothes which seemed to suit him well.

I dipped my head in a silent hello before my gaze flickered over towards our remaining guest.

It shouldn’t have felt as shocking as it did to finally set eyes on Matty Healy in person, not after all of the thorough planning I’d put into his very visit. But it was strangely surprising to bare witness to the way his lithe body was currently perched on the edge of our shabby armchair, the very same Adi, Finn and I had dragged back from the secondhand shop further up the main road. It felt wrong almost, having someone so obviously used to a certain luxury sat in the tatty thing.

I pulled my mind away from that last thought and focused on how I couldn't quite seem to tear my eyes away from the way Healy’s frame folded in on itself slightly, legs jutted out wide, elbows pressed against knees, and his chin cocked high. The guy’s overall stance was oddly domineering for someone so wraithlike, with hollowed cheeks and an aristocratic smile. It made him that much harder to read.

Healy’s own eyes were also hidden, so I couldn't make out the line of his gaze. Disguised behind a dark pair of glasses that I could only supposed cost more than what I’d make in two, maybe three months.

The question of what Healy might've first thought upon seeing me and the way I’d drowned myself in the oversized band tee I’d chosen that morning crossed my mind. But I was simply just thankful for the fact that I’d forgotten my knitted cardi somewhere behind me in the recording booth. Silently wishing that I had the balls, as well as the body, to pull off the outfits Adi liked to wear.

"Hiya." I finally greeted them, forcing myself to smile as I extended a polite hand outwards. "It's great to meet you both."

Even with the dark shades on, I easily spotted the way Healy's brows lifted in reply before he- rather reluctantly- clasped his own hand in mine.

I swallowed back the strained smile I wanted to give him in return and focused instead on the shake. Healy’s hands were apt, fingers long and slender, skin much softer than it should’ve been for any musician, and his knuckles prominent but wrist almost dainty. He was a juxtaposition if I’d ever seen one.

He was the first to pull away.

“Likewise.”

My jaw ticked at Healy’s sarky tone but I didn’t let it deter me. Staying professional, I turned to offer the same sentiment to his accomplice.

“I’m Mouse, by the way. It’s lovely to have you both. Hope you got here okay.”

The other man was much merrier than Healy, practically a total contrast actually, and he showed it in the joyful way he shook my hand, still smiling away.

“You know London traffic.” He replied around a low chuckle and let our hands fall, “Lovely to be here though. I’m Matty’s manager, Jamie.”

I smiled as I nodded in remembrance.

“Got to say, I really love what you two have done with this place. Skylight’s incredible.” Jamie added and I grinned before settling into the adjacent sofa, leaving plenty of space for Adi to take.

“You saw that? But yeah, I honestly think it’s the only reason we were so sold on this particular building- ‘cause the stairs are killer.”

“I can see why! I’m dying to have something like that back at mine, but the conservatory will have to do for now.” Jamie enthused and stood up when Adi strode on over.

Skillfully, the man helped guide the wooden tray Ads had been carrying towards the coffee table and smiled when she thanked him for his efforts, the image of a perfect gentleman.

“Thanks, Ads.” I breathed out in appreciation when the girl handed me my usual milky brew, then took a quick sip.

Someone snorted as I did and my eyes instantly flew over to discover that the sound had been made by Healy, because of course.

He seemed all too amused by something and, from the way his body was still angled towards me, I could only assume that it was down to something I'd done.

I blinked in confusion before I moved to raise my mug high above my head, reading the large, industrialised font that covered the bottom of the cup. Cunt.

The studio was probably the furthest thing from a professional setting, we’d always wanted the entire space to feel comfortable, safe even. But this was supposed to be our big break and so we had been trying to convey it as though it was. But here Adi was dishing out the gag gifts Finn had bestowed upon the loft last Christmas like it was a regular Tuesday.

Still, with a shake of my head, I couldn’t quite bring myself to dim my grudging grin as I shot a narrow eyed glare Adi’s way.

"Ta for that." I voiced with a light chortle and tipped the mug at her in false cheers, before my eyes then flittered over towards Jamie, who had since stifled his own amusement in favour of taking a slow sip of his own brew. And ah, yeah, there was the matching mug.

Healy laughed to himself in the little corner he’d created and I caught the way he subtly surveyed his own cup, out of the corner of my eye, just in case Adi had got him too.

Somehow he’d managed to avoid that particular jest and I knew that the only thing Healy really had to worry about now was if there was a secret dirty message waiting for him once he’d finally polished off his drink.

"What can I say? The mugs, they do not lie." Adi jeered, a mischievous glint in her eye before she turned her head back towards the two visitors. "See you've met our wonderful Mouse then! Ain't she a looker?"

I grimaced away from the hand that reached out to grab at my chin and silently questioned what I'd done to suddenly be on the deserving end of all her taunts.

Jamie laughed at the pair of us, but even with it, I didn't miss Healy's quiet hum or the way he was now seemingly more interested in the contents of his cup than the current conversation.

"Quite. We were actually just talking about you on the way up here, mate." Jamie divulged and I dragged my attention back towards the man, eyebrows lifting.

"Only good things, I hope." I replied, somewhat uncomfortably, but smiling lightly at Jamie before I managed to catch Adi's eye.

Ads simply waved me off. "Of course! They were interested in the show- how it started and what not." She told me and I nodded, mostly to myself as I relaxed further into the settee.

"Oh, well yeah, we've been around a while now."

"Adi mentioned that you were just a kid when you started out, sounds mad putting it like that." Jamie pondered, appearing quite intrigued by the topic. "How did this all come about then?"

Usually, I liked to skirt around this particular subject, wanting to dive straight into the work and forgo most of the small talk, but I caught the way Jamie’s eyes darted around our quaint little studio. He wasn’t just asking for the sake of it.

"If I'm being truly honest, a lot of stuff happened all at once." I revealed with a soft chuckle, but it lacked any of the mirth I was aiming for as I thought back to my second year of university, the year everything had quite literally turned on its head.

"I was in between jobs and my best mate suggested that I take the Twitter account I already had and turn it into something with a bigger presence. At the time, I had nothing left to lose so I just went for it."

At least, that was the shortened version of it. I’d skipped the mental breakdown, the almost losing my flat, and the birth of my child for the sake of not looking like a total psycho.

Jamie looked impressed or, at the very least, understanding as he nodded along to my words.

"Can't say I regret it now though." I had to tack on and smiled before attempting to trail my way onto a more formal topic. "I got your list by the way- what not to ask and all that. Think one of your lot emailed it to me earlier in the week. But I just wanted to let you both know-”

I let my eyes flit over towards Healy for a brief moment before they settled back on Jamie.

"That you don't have to worry about any of that whilst you're here. We want things to be relaxed, comfortable. I know your team was adamant on everything being a bit more structured, following the lines of an actual interview, but we don't do much of that around here. So I hope you're happy with just having a simple sit down."

"Like this?" Came a reply and I had to pause for a second before realising where the question had come from. Or who, rather.

I settled my mug down on my thigh, loosely supporting it with my hand, and looked over in the direction of Healy.

"A bit, yeah." I confirmed with an incline of my head, "That alright with you?"

The singer was silent for a long second and I couldn't help but take the opportune moment he gave to simply admire the way his fingers had wrapped themselves around his mug, mindlessly tapping away to a hollow tune.

Just when it appeared as though the silence had stretched on a beat too long, and Jamie had begun to shuffle forward ever so slightly in his seat, did Healy finally reply.

"If it's just you, then yes."

I tried not to let the reaction of how I really felt flash across my face then as I stared back at the man opposite.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the way Adi's lips had pursed unhappily in retort and how Jamie’s expression had hardened into a somewhat steely glare, desperate for Matty to spare a glance his way. Probably to scold him for being so painfully rude. But Healy, to my utter disbelief, kept his head firmly fixed towards me, even as he pushed the dark sunglasses he wore up into his curly hair.

It almost felt like we were in a stare off with the way I watched him for any tell that would surely give him away, slowly considering the proposition and not caring to cover up the way I could now stare into the other man’s dark brown eyes unabashedly.

From where I was sat, I could only just make out the darkened circles that rested beneath Healy’s pupils, as well as the red line that rimmed them. Their colour was far from unusual, brown, but his were not something you saw very often, they drew you in, kept you trapped. They harboured a multitude of other colours that blended ruthlessly into an array of raw umber.

As magnetising as they may have felt though, I found that I was mostly grateful to see that Healy’s pupils were of a normal size. The only thing I wanted to question were the walls that were so obviously barricaded behind them, giving me absolutely nothing in return.

"Just me?"

Healy simply stared back.

I couldn’t look Adi’s way when I finally answered the request, simply hoping that she would somehow understand. This felt too much like a test to say anything other than, “Alright. If that’s what you’d prefer.”

I moved to push my mug onto the corner of the coffee table, allowing myself a seconds release from his stare.

“But Adi often controls what goes on behind the scenes when we record, so it’ll be harder without her there, especially with all the cameras.” I explained carefully.

"Look, just hang on a second-" Jamie tried, obviously wanting to defuse the situation, but was ultimately cut off by Healy. It honestly felt as though the man believed neither Jamie nor Adi were a part of the conversation any longer.

"Can you do it?"

His tone was almost challenging, the four words fell from his wicked tongue like a dare.

"Not the type to back down." Was all I could think to retort, my hardened gaze once again zeroed in on Healy's own.

***

The recording booth was smaller than he’d expected. A table sat in the very centre, surrounded by a swarm of cameras and microphones, all of which seemed to be connected to a variety of wires Matty could hardly even bring himself to be cautious of as he stepped past.

The table hosted an array of tech though, from computers and mixing boards to monitors and speakers. None of which Matty was the least bit interested in either.

Three of the four walls were lined with acoustic foam panels, one’s you’d typically find in booths, while the last had been turned into a mural of sorts.

The mural was dark and edgy, a string of trees sprouted up from the ground and swept across the expanse of it, its branches winding upwards only to entangle in one another. A common field mouse sat crouched in between the trunks of the trees, its big eyes shining as it met Matty’s stare head-on. The walls centre held the name of the radio show and at first glance it looked as though it had been printed on one of those acrylic neon signs, but it was actually just extremely detailed.

Matty had to blink once or twice before he was finally able to look away.

"Who's work?" He found himself asking, filling the silence that had settled upon the closing of the booth's door. He jutted his chin out towards the far wall, sparing the art one last glance before he gave the girl his full focus.

Her eyes flitted up to meet his own before they sailed across to the mural.

"A friend." Was all she replied, but her voice had softened a touch now that it was just the two of them, Matty noted.

She offered nothing more than that and so Matty took it for what it was, nodding his quiet assent.

"Do you have anything in particular you'd like to talk about whilst you're here?" Mouse asked him as she clicked away at the computer, he felt strange using the name, even if it was just in his own head. "We've got a good hour or so before Adi comes snooping."

"I've got a million things I'd like to say," Matty let slip as he trailed on closer to the table, then forced a sardonic smile. "But I'm not particularly in the mood for a good tongue lashing today."

She looked slightly startled by his dry joke and Matty found himself having to hold back a smirk as he rounded the desk, fingertips gliding across the table's smooth surface.

"What about you, then?" He posed, not wanting to stunt their talk just as it had begun. Somewhat intrigued now. "Got anything you'd like to get off your chest for millions of people to hear?"

It was sarky, but when was he not? Though if he was being honest, Matty just found that he wanted to hear the girl talk, because for some reason he enjoyed listening to her. Her gentle accent had obviously been weakened during the time she'd spent in London but Matty enjoyed its easy lilt. It was almost soothing. He wondered where she was from, but didn't ask.

Mouse snorted, shaking her head. "Wouldn't quite say millions, a couple thousand at best."

Matty felt his eyebrows raise as he spared another glance over at her, thinking back to those eyes that had held his so solemnly. "What, even with me here?"

He was teasing, but her eyes widened briefly as though she feared she had offended him, but as mentioned, it was only a brief flicker before a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see how loyal your fans truly are, Healy."

"Guess so." Matty mocked.

***

The show had gotten off to a rocky start. I had been all too aware of the surrounding cameras and the way the menacing rockstar, sat centimetres away from me, liked to keep his stare fixed firmly on me at all times, following my each and every movement.

I couldn't quite help the way I shifted uncomfortably every time I looked up and caught Healy's eye either, or the way I’d chosen to angle my face away from the cameras to avoid looking directly into any lenses.

I was dead crap when it came down to things like this. It all became too much, the pressure to entertain, to pretend that I was fine, that I was comfortable in my own skin, to chat away like there weren't already a thousand eyes studying my every flaw.

Look, give me a microphone and any sodding topic that either pissed me off or positively enthralled me and I'd be happy to rant the ears off of any nutter willing to listen. But in scenarios such as these, I always felt slightly on edge. Teetering on the verge of falling right on over it.

‘Cause I knew what people saw when they looked at me. I was all too familiar with the pitying glance I often got spared, as well as the grimaces people couldn’t seem to hide when they walked by.

I’d had to deal with it for years. Ever since I was a kid.

And upon hearing that, anyone would probably figure that I might’ve gotten used to all the gawking by now, especially with a toddler constantly keeping me on my toes. But ultimately my son’s presence often appeared to exaggerate the mixed reactions I received.

In truth, I’d never really been given the time to come to terms with the scars that marred my body, my face. The white lines that spoiled the features underneath.

So claiming it to be a rocky start, would only put a dent about the size of a pea into the way I was currently feeling!

Healy was rather unhelpful too, just as I’d predicted. He seemed to almost get off on watching me writhe under his leer and his answers to the questions or topics brought up were half-hearted at best.

Really, I was beginning to doubt the way in which I’d figured this entire mess would end.

It was only supposed to be a quick and easy chat, the two of us sat there gossiping like old mates, proving to the rest of the world that there really was no animosity or underlying conspiracies to this whole setup. When in actuality, that really wasn't the case.

Time and time again I found myself questioning why exactly Healy had even bothered to come, why he had even agreed to the whole ordeal in the first place. Especially when he was so apathetic with his replies.

"So," I trailed off, somewhat desperate to save what was left of the segment- for my sake at the very least. I didn't even want to think of what sort of issues this would cause for the show. "Music! I mean, from an outsider's point of view, we never really got the whole backstory on how you and the rest of the band really met. I mean, you’ve said you started it in secondary school, but you yourself were kind of pushed into the limelight at a really young age, so how did you and the guys connect?”

Healy tensed at that particular question, his shoulders forming a more rigid line as his gaze flickered away from me for only the briefest of seconds before it returned, but it was enough to alert me to the fact that I was treading into murky waters. I tried to backtrack.

"But in all honesty, what I really want to know about are all the sordid details, life after all that crap, the answers to the things people never think to ask. Like, I've seen pictures of your clearly extensive guitar collection all over your Instagram feed, you must have a favourite!"

Matty's lips curled into something which almost resembled a smile then and it honest to God threw me through a loop. A metaphorical loop, of course, I wasn't quite sure if we could fit any sort of loop-like shape into a space this small.

But I was letting myself get sidetracked and couldn't help but question whether that was the sort of thing Healy typically thrived off of. He’d smiled, and nothing wicked or sarky had tinged it, it’d been a genuine smile. And I had to blink just to make sure my eyes hadn't been playing tricks on me as Healy edged forward in his seat, a coy grin now dancing at the corners of his muted pink lips.

"A favourite? Now that's the question to ask! Honestly? It'll have to be the '63 Jazzmaster I've got. It’s wicked, used by the Ramones on their debut album and then by David Byrne on early Syre demos. So it’s seen quite a bit."

After that, I just sat there. Stunned as Healy continued to rant about this poxy guitar he was so obviously smitten with and couldn't help but be utterly captivated by each and every word that slipped from his mouth.

Apparently all I had ever needed to get past the games and ginormous walls Healy had defensively built around himself was to simply be myself. Ask the questions that maybe only I wanted to know the answers to.

See, I wasn't the biggest people person but I figured myself to be somewhat of a skilful conversationalist. What with my past, I’d kind of had to force myself to be. But I was glad to have finally been given an in with Healy, no matter how small. It helped the interview pass by a lot easier.

Although the new spirit Healy adopted after that only seemed to last until nearing the very end of the show.

In truth, I had all but forgotten about the cameras and microphones set up, the fact that people were still listening in, were watching us converse, whilst I simply lost myself in listening to Healy prattle away. Positively enraptured by the way the musician's mind worked as he explained the complexity of a certain riff he adored, or the time he'd pretended to get off in Madison Square Garden- much to the dismay of his PR Team.

"They went absolutely mental when I first proposed it. I'm telling you! Yapping about time and effort, and it being too much for the younger viewers, then the plans that would have to be put into place- all that merry shite. And I’d just been sitting there in these, these skimpy leather trousers, quietly debating over when, or if I'd ever, get the feeling back in my legs. And don't even get me started on my knob. I mean, it must've shrivelled up and die- hang on, I can say knob, right? On air?"

Looking at him in that moment, forgetting everything I already knew, it was like I was seeing this whole other person. Someone who wasn't so confrontational, so quick to defend, or easy to recoil.

It was clear, to me at least, that Healy wasn't the image the media painted of him, he was simply human. A troubled man who truly loved music, in every sort of variety, and wanted to vocalise and share that love with everyone else. He was eccentric for sure, but sincere.

I could see that, even if it only felt like I'd only been given the tiniest bit of insight into the person Healy so obviously tried to keep concealed.

It wasn't long later when I startled somewhat upon seeing the flashing red light of one of our cameras go off to my left and immediately, I jolted upright in my seat.

"God- crap!" I blurted out stupidly as I grabbed at the headset that had threatened to fall off my head in my sudden haste. "Hold on. Sorry, got really sidetracked there- one of the camera's is telling me it's on its last legs, so we'd best start wrapping this up."

Healy deflated ever so visibly, shrinking back in his seat as he huffed a soundless chuckle.

"Can't seem to stop me once I get going." Healy widened his eyes to emphasise his point and I observed how he had hastily retreated back into himself to haul his guard up again.

I was quick to shake my head. "No, truthfully I can't remember the last time I just got to sit here and listen. It was nice not having to do all the work for once."

Matty licked at his top lip upon hearing that and rewarded me with another mirthful smirk. I realised I'd properly put my foot in it there, stressing over why I’d even worded it like that.

Whilst he chuckled to himself at the picture I must’ve made, I decided my best bet was to hurry on and end the show, reciting what needed to be said before I finally signed off, clicking a button.

It was just as the 'ON AIR' sign above the door went off that Adi barged straight through the entrance, gracing us with her wonderful presence. Jamie was just behind her, peeking his head around the doorframe.

"Well I think I can say that that went as well as it could’ve!" He announced, coming to a standstill by Matty as he clapped his client heartily on the back. "Well done, Matt. You as well, Mouse."

"Appreciate it." I smiled up at him before tugging off my headphones and pushing away the mic.

With all four of us now crowded into the makeshift room, the booth suddenly felt a lot smaller than it usually did, and so I tried my best to disguise the way my body immediately reacted to the realisation.

"I'm in dire need of a fag though. Will you be alright tidying up in here, Ads?" I announced as I pulled myself up onto my feet, already beginning to shuffle towards the exit. I picked up the cardigan I'd left on the back of one of the chairs as I went, using it as a shield almost.

"Yeah, of course. Glasses here wanted to discuss one more thing before they made a move anyway."

I shot an arched brow at the man in question but Jamie waved my curiosity off. "Nothing too detailed. Just some forms that need signing."

I didn't much like the part of the arrangement that came after recording, but with an understanding ‘Ah’, I forced myself to ask, "Erm, don't suppose you need me to stick around for any of that do you?"

"Nah," Jamie laughed lightly, "Go on, you're all good."

I smiled, silently praising the stars above as I nodded once and resumed my exit, tugging the cardi on as I hastily made my way over to the fire escape.

Praying that our luck hadn’t run out just yet, I hoped that no one else was up on the roof waiting for me when I pulled my feet up the rickety metal staircase. It was just about the last thing I needed at that moment.

I already had my lighter in hand by the time I'd made it over to our little makeshift patio we’d created, which consisted of a few wooden pallets and a couple of large cushions that overlooked the neighbouring buildings.

It wasn't much, Islington. It was inner London sure, and had its fair few classier joints to show off, but I much preferred what else it had to offer. Like how the hustle and bustle of the city quietened just as you lost yourself down the backroads. And all the parks that had been scattered in and around the main developments and the dozens and dozens of buildings that were constantly cropping up. How there was a pub on almost every street corner and a Sainsbury's never too far away. I even enjoyed the gentle rattle of the overground, it was all too familiar now. Felt more like home than the Isles ever had.

Looking out across the surrounding rooftops, I wondered again just why my mum had yet to leave our tiny town as I lit a cigarette and lifted the filter to my lips.

The first chance my father ever got he’d gone running for the hills and then me, myself, had upped and left the confines of our small cottage as soon as the offer had presented itself.

It wasn't that the harbour town I'd grown up in had nothing to offer. It had a sense of community, a beautiful shoreline (even in the colder months), and of course, the local rugby team.

But speaking in a manner of careers, well, unless you were breaking out on your own and had the cash to open up a shop on the high-street, then you were probably destined to either work in the local greengrocers, serve behind the village bar, or get a shift down by the docks.

You were lucky if you had a bit more meat on your bones though, because then you also had the added opportunity of getting an offer to start laying bricks for one of the few building companies. Most of which were family based.

We had the main school too which housed both primary and secondary kids, and the local college was available if you wanted to further your education. But the closest University campus was a good hundred miles away.

I had applied, but only to lessen the guilt I'd felt towards my mother when I'd started looking for courses available in just about any place apart from home whilst filling out uni apps.

I could still recall the day I’d finally told her I'd be leaving for London. Felt like a lifetime ago now really.

I'd definitely have to call her up again soon, to make sure that she was doing okay, even if it meant that I'd be forced to listen to her rattle on about coming home for Christmas. Again.

I sighed contently to myself and it was just as I flicked away a stump of ash that I heard someone approach.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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WIBTA if I posted my art from a zine early?

I (23nb) joined a zine for a semi obscure 2000s manga/anime as a page artist with two of my friends. I enjoy this media but I don't really consider myself in the fandom, I only joined because one of my aforementioned friends is a huge fan of it and the other friend is also a casual enjoyer and we thought it would be fun if we all did a zine together.

However.

Most zines have a timeline of around 9-10 months from beginning to publishing but this one's been in production for almost 2 years. I've been in a few zines and this one has the worst organization I've ever seen in any project. The timeline on the discord only covered the first 5 months and had no estimate for how long the production would be, but a year and a half for publishing is pretty unheard of. The only check-in for progress that I remember didn't even require sending in your piece, you just had to say if you were finished or not and only a handful of the 30ish people on the discord responded lmao. Both of my friends ghosted at this point and the Singular mod (there might be two mods. I can't really tell) didn't dm them to see if they still wanted to participate or anything. Since there is only one person doing everything me and a few others have asked if they need any help and every time the mod(s) say that they're fine. every month or two someone will ask how the production is going and the mod will answer, and then another month goes by and the cycle repeats. I think the zine has finally gone into its “preorder interest check” stage (so not the actual preorder) but judging by how long everything takes i estimate that it'll be another 2 months at least before it actually goes into preorder. Its also never been clear if this is a free zine or if the sales will be donated to charity or distributed among the contributors. Since there's Allegedly going to be a physical copy it's gotta at least use the sales money to pay for production and shipping costs, but I have no idea if I'll be compensated with a physical copy or any money, especially if I do the thing that I might be TA for.

So here's my actual question. WIBTA if I posted the art I made for the zine before the mod says it's ok to do so? A big part of zine etiquette is that you do not post the final piece until the zine is finished, and the repercussions for someone who does range from a mod dming them to take it down or being kicked out of the zine entirely or in the absolute worst case, called out and blacklisted in the fandom and zine circles (I don't think anything that serious will happen to me but I have anxiety so I'm always imagining the worst thing) Most of the people on Tumblr in this fandom are kind of annoying fandom mom millennial types so I don't really want to deal with any possible backlash from them lol. If I just posted my art on Instagram idk if any of them would see it, but they Definitely would if I posted on Tumblr since the zine originated on there and it's such a small tag. I'm also so frustrated with the experience I kind of want to write something cunty in the description about how it's a zine piece for a zine that probably will never come out but I know that's just being petty and would probably invite drama. Also since I drew this thing a year and a half ago it's a little busted looking so I might redraw parts of it, so posting it would still be kinda shitty but it would technically be a different piece from the original one I submitted to the zine.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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skreebs · 8 months

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Happy “Tetchou got 2-3 seconds of screen time” day!!

Anyway Jouno has ADHD and heres a longass rant on why I think that

(Obviously this is a headcanon but hear me out!!!!!)

Almost every time we see Jouno he is always doing something with his hands wether this be gesturing, holding something, or fidgeting with an object (example: when he was peeling a pear in Kunikida’s cell thing) and in the same scene we also see Jouno apparently unable to sit still in his seat in the manga due to him repeatedly crossing and uncrossing his legs in his chair

Another reason I think this is because of possible time blindness. When we first see Jouno show up to the Hunting Dogs group thing where they smash into the ground, Fukuchi comments on Jouno arriving before him. This is because he had to go arrest Dazai so obviously he’s “here” in Yokohama early, but also this kind of makes me think he was just standing there waiting for a while. I’m likely reading too deep into it, but Fukuchi probably wouldn’t say that Jouno had gotten here before him when he knew that’d clearly be the case. In my mind it reads as Jouno arrived at the meeting spot early. How Fukuchi would know this? No clue! But also he’s Fukuchi so he probably knows everything.

(I hate tumblr formatting)

Another reason I have would be RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria)

This one is definitely reaching a little bit but bare with me.

I think Jouno experiences RSD, not in the way of “oh I hate myself I messed up on something” but instead in the way of “shut the fuck up you dont know what youre talking about dont criticize me.” Which is honestly how I experience it sometimes as well LMAO but he does seem very focused on the fact of personally being the best Hunting Dog and appears to take quite a bit of offense whenever Tetchou reprimands him for his behaviour.

Last reason I can squeeze out before my brain turns into goo is overstimulation. Jouno is known very heavily for his heightened senses and people with ADHD are very prone to overstimulation. It would make a lot of sense for something like this to happen to Jouno. Obviously he wouldn’t be able to openly show this at work or have a breakdown at work (if he did he would likely go to a secluded area to calm down) but its very likely that he’s experienced many overstimulated breakdowns or shut downs during his life once his senses became so insane.

I could go on about this for hours but now I have to tag all of this and pass the hell out. Unsurprisingly my own time blindness has gotten the better of me (I started this at 2 am and it is currently 5 am)

DO I EVEN NEED THIS MANY TAGS IDK HOW THIS WORKS

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surachibee · 5 months

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if you’ve been following a lot of my recent stuff, you’ve probably noticed (or maybe you haven’t, idk!) that I’ve been tagging a few art posts as ‘pitverse’. You’ve also probably noticed that I’ve provided no context to these posts what-so-ever! and that sucks! So to explain a bit, I present:

”surachi what the heck is pitverse”

Okay, first. ‘Pitverse’ is a working title. Maybe. It’s cheesy, but I kinda like it because it’s cheesy.

Anyways, if you’ve been following me for a while, you may or may not remember this art where I designed a bunch of pits that were loosely based on the different ending to the original Kid Icarus on the NES. Some took influence from different places (eg. the solider ending heavily drawing inspiration from Kid Icarus: of Myths and Monsters) and some were completely made up (eg. the farm ending’s design). It was fun! And it pretty much started this whole idea to begin with.

I’d draw some stuff here and there for it, but other than that I never really did much with the idea other than ‘oh hey look designs’. That is until it came up again a couple years later when I started to get *really* into oMaM stuff, which led to me coming back to the idea of a weird multiverse thing.

Thanks to a few friends, we talked about it and eventually it became like a four-swords adventure multiverse labyrinth thing. Pandora’s Labyrinth times twelve. So as it is right now, it’s like a hypothetical game where some new *evil big bad* takes a handful of Pits from different universes/timelines and plops them into some pocket dimension of different levels and challenges, and together, they have to find out what the heck going on.

Right now, I think I’m gonna try to keep it to three Pits for simplicity sake. Obviously, Pit from Kid Icarus: Uprising has to be here, that’s our guy. He’s also the protagonist! He’s left relatively unchanged in this AU. This also takes place in a post-game setting, so he’s already fought Hades. This applies to the other guys as well, even if their hypothetical “games” and adventures aren’t actually real (Factor) or heavily rewritten (Myth) here.

Good news is that Uprising Pit can still communicate with Palutena! But he’s the only one out of the bunch that can. (Would’nt that have been nice? Imagine all the work you could get done with THREE Palutenas [haha reference]). In this AU’s logic, Uprising’s world in the pocket-dimension what-ch-ma-have-it space is closer to the one where this takes place, so (Uprising) Palutena is able to establish a decent enough connection to at least communicate, though it’s not the best. The other Pit’s worlds are further away, so communication with their respective realms are off the table. This also causes other problems like occasionally “bugging out” and forgetting stuff since they’re so far from their original worlds. So Uprising Pit got kinda lucky.

Speaking of other Pits, there’s other Pits! Both of them draw inspiration from things previously done/involved in the franchise so they’re not entirely made up, but they do stray pretty far from their source material. Anyway..first, we have Factor! He’s heavily inspired by Factor 5’s rendition of Pit from their “Icarus” project back in 2007-2008 that was turned down. Here, this AU’s interpretation of the idea is a little more in line with the franchise’s overall light-hearted and goofy nature. (In this AU the Pit’s are taken from different points in time, so he would’ve been plucked from the future. I did this so 1. They all could look visually distinct from each other, and 2. the thought of Factor going “oh he doesn’t know about [x] yet” or Uprising Pit insisting Myth to NOT go after the wish seed in the future was funny.)

Next…there’s Myth! He’s based on Kid Icarus: of Myths and Monsters, and besides a few plot points he’s pretty much just a modern take on the character. He was easier to pin down because while the concept of Factor’s story was interesting, being banished from the heavens for some unspecified crime, it’s pretty vague in comparison. With Myth, there’s an entire game with a plot to go off of, even if this AU strays a bit from it.

That’s pretty much the basics of this AU! Just a couple of Pits going on an adventure getting into other-worldly shenanigans. I’m having a ton of fun with it and hopefully I can develop the idea more as I go along. Thanks for reading! There’s some extra footnotes and miscellaneous doodles below.

• This AU follows the idea that oMaM takes place in a different timeline than Kid Icarus: Uprising, hence it not being referenced (at least not on purpose, I’m looking at you aurum track accidentally having the same intro motif) or mentioned. Plus y’know, Sakurai not knowing it existed so there’s that. Might as well rework it into a weird explanation. (coping)

• All of these worlds take place in different timelines, so Factor isn’t an older version of Uprising Pit, nor is Uprising an older version of Myth. They’re all still Pit, and all of them have fought Medusa, but it had different outcomes (somewhat based on the endings) and at that point they diverged from each other. • I’ll probably change the naming of the Pits at some point. While they’re good right now, I’m not sure if I wanna keep Factor named after a company. Might have their names based off the titles of their respective games, so instead of “Factor”, “Myth”, and “Uprising” it’d be “Icarus” (based on the project’s internal name), “Myth”, and “Uprising”.

#surachiarttag #pitverse tag #kid icarus au

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wolfvmin · 2 years

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glimpse of us: exile

pairing: husband!yoongi x female reader ; namjoon x reader genre: angst, divorce, arranged marriage (but not really), age gap kinda (5 years), unrequited love, pining (reader), fluff wc: 19.5k (my first full fic? :O) playlist: glimpse of us. warnings: read part one first. a lot of pov changes at the party scene, kinda unedited, angst, major 2nd lead syndrome vibes, idk how to tag warnings obviously, kissing, implied sex, lots of flashback scenes, bad writing bc i can't write. note: aaaaaa it's finally here. things didn't go as planned because i didn't expect to be really busy in the first month of junior year in uni T.T !! i'm really sorry to those who waited and thank you for giving me 500+ notes on the first part of glimpse of us. summary: he was the perfect husband and it's a perfect marriage... but it's time to let him go. PART 1 masterlist

“yoongi? are you listening to me?”

the voice that was just an echo on the back of his head grows louder, fishing him out of the abyss of thoughts he’s been having. he looks back at the woman who sits across from him with wide eyes, suddenly realizing he had been out of it again.

“yeah, sorry.” yoongi replies with an obvious lie and straightens up his back. his girlfriend sighs and sips her coffee while avoiding his gaze. he knows that she’s now pissed at him.

“are you really going to think about work while i’m here? we’ve been barely going out as it is and you do this?” yuna’s voice raises at him. he looks around the cafe, worried about the eyes that turned to them.

“can you turn your voice down?” he pleads in a whisper, leaning closer to the woman.

she scoffs at him, crossing her arms. “my voice is not the issue here.”

it was always like this. nothing seems to be going right with them anymore. if they can’t see each other because of their conflicting schedules, they’re either arguing or ignoring each other because of the argument. despite this, yoongi believes it’s just the 7-year itch and if they both try to get through it, they can overcome it.

“i know. i’m sorry.” he sighs and looks down at his drink. “what were you saying again?”

“i told you i met someone.”

it didn’t sink in at first. time stays still as his body goes frozen in his seat.

just a second ago, his mind was as if a desk of a mad scientist, thoughts scrambled as a million worries, ideas, and images run through his head. he was a man that never stopped running, always chasing a prize that was dangling in front of him. and he loved it. but he was too blind to see the truth. he had been doing it wrong all this time.

he didn’t know that six words had the power to boil down years of noise in his head into one word–a question.

“what?”

he sat there in misery as she explained. the words coming out from her mouth swirled in his head like a tornado, swiping every last plan he has in the future for the both of them. it is only now that he takes notice of how her hair is not kept as neatly as it usually is. he recalls how a different smell of shampoo had hit his nose when he hugged her in greeting earlier.

she tells him how she spent the night in another man’s bed but never doing the things expected of a person who’s going behind her partner’s back. she doesn’t do them. no, yuna is not a person to do that. but she tells him of how she yearned to. and that’s why she can’t bear the thought of being with him further.

because she realized that she doesn’t want him anymore.

how her voice trembled when she said goodbye, yoongi doesn’t even notice. the way she stood up from her seat, yoongi doesn’t even look at.

just like that, yoongi was left inside that cafe, sitting where he felt his whole world stop.

he was ashamed of himself.

it’s amazing how in one room, different kind of lives are being lived. some are laughing with their friends, others just enjoying their coffee on a nice and sunny day, a few typing away at their laptops in a buzzing cafe instead of a quiet library, the cafe staff just getting by and doing their job for the day. all of this happening while one man in his seat just felt his whole world shatter just by six words.

now he realizes that the prize he was chasing was tied to him over his head. like a fool, he was chasing something that if only he stops for a moment, he could easily reach it with both his hands. he could have taken it and held it close to him. maybe that way, the swift air from his running wouldn’t have taken it away from him. but it did. and it’s all because of him.

from that moment on, he swore he wouldn’t let such a thing happen again.

but it does.

a usual monday for yoongi goes like this: first, he eats the breakfast you cook. second, he drives to work. third, he texts you when he arrives. four, he slaves himself to work the whole day and a few hours of the night. fifth, he texts you when he’s about to go home. sixth, he drives home from work at a late hour. lastly, he either finds you asleep or waiting for him while having a midnight snack.

the monday goes as it does for him at first. so, expectedly, it would continue as it is for the rest of the night. obviously, things doesn’t usually go as it does.

the first unusual thing he finds is how the lights are turned off when he enters the apartment. it doesn’t matter if you’re asleep or watching a movie in the living room, you always leave the dim light by the entrance turned on.

“y/n?”

the second unusual thing that happens is when he shouts your name, no one answers. from that moment, he realizes that you were out of the house.

the third unusual thing is why didn’t you tell him? were you spending the night at your parents house? out with a friend? or perhaps at work? you always text him if you’re going to be out of the house. so why didn’t you tonight?

worry fills his system at the thought of you being out and him having no idea where. he knows you can handle yourself well but you not telling him where you’ve gone doesn’t feel right to him.

his hand finds the light switch in the dark like it’s second nature. and just like that, the apartment comes to life with bright lights and a clean atmosphere.

he doesn’t find the place unusual. everything was just like he left it. it was only you that was missing from the picture.

but a few steps in, he finds the last thing he would find unusual for the night.

the box that he usually sees underneath your closet rack is now sitting on top of the coffee table in the living room and beside it were two envelopes. one in legal size and another in letter.

he throws his leathered sling bag on the couch and picks up the letter. for some reason, there was a pounding in his heart that he can’t explain. perhaps, it was his body telling him that something unpleasant was about to happen. his furrowed brows and blazing eyes scan through the words in the letter. the words sorry and end were the only things that made sense to him. he couldn’t read the letter fully as he could feel his chest tighten second by second.

this isn’t happening. this isn’t happening. this isn’t happening.

his eyes shift to the bigger envelope on the table. the trembling hands of his abandon the sheet of paper in his hands only to grasp the envelope and roughly see the content inside of it.

he felt his knees weaken at the words he finds on the document that he falls in a slump on the couch, staring blankly at the paper and taking in the weight of your signature on it.

it takes him a few minutes to get back to reality. and just like before, all his thoughts was silenced with one word.

why?

he picks up the letter that fell to the floor, reading it calmly this time.

his eyes move slowly and carefully as if he’s afraid of the words he’s going to read. this time, the words doesn’t come like a tornado. this time, it comes like tsunami. before he knew it, he’s already underwater and being pushed in all directions by the water.

i’m sorry.

i didn’t think i could tell you this in person. i thought about it carefully, yoongi. but i don’t think i can go on with this. i’ve known for a while even before you’ve said it that night–that it’s not me you truly see at first, i thought it was okay. i don’t mind if the love you give is borrowed. i’d rather be loved like this than not being loved at all by you. i’d take whatever love you can give. then, i realize how fucked up it is. in the process of loving you, i’d forgotten how to love myself. it’s cheesy, i know. but what can i do when the man who i love only loves me because he finds her in me? is there a space for the real me in your heart, yoongi? because if we’re honest, if it’s down to me and her, who would you choose? that night, when you told me i am just like her that’s why you can’t lose me, i just knew it had to stop. i don’t want to be the person you settle for just because you can’t have her.

i’m sorry, yoongi. i know that by doing this, i’m hurting you. but it has to end before any more people get hurt.

i’ll let you go so you can find her again.

we can talk about this further when you’re ready.

y/n.

the whiskey rolled on his tongue, the bitter taste on his buds lingering as he swallowed the strong drink. not even letting his tongue get to its aftertaste, he takes another swig of the highly alcoholic drink.

“you need to slow down.”

his best friend reminds him as he sits beside him on the couch—the couch you specifically chose. everything in this house, you chose. every corner of the place, he sees you. every little thing reminded him of you.

he groans and limply hold the glass by his knee. he hung his head back and rests his forearm on his forehead. seokjin watches and sighs at the misery of his best friend.

“i think i need someone to tell me how to live life.” yoongi blurts out.

“why would you think that?” seokjin asks with a snort before taking a sip of his drink. his face scrunches after taking in the taste of the whiskey, realizing it was way too strong for his liking. he takes another sip anyway. that’s just how seokjin is.

“i think i’ve been doing it wrong so far.” the man answers with a mutter.

seokjin gazes at his best friend and then to the divorce papers on the table. he recalls the text he received from his friend’s wife in the afternoon.

hi jin. if u’re free tonight can u check on yoongi after his shift? i think he’ll need u.

the day the jin dreads has come. knowing yoongi the best, he wished that it didn’t happen like this. he felt bad for his friend but worse for you. you don’t deserve this. the fact that you still went out of your way to make sure your husband was alright when you were divorcing him, he doesn’t think it will be easy for yoongi to find someone like you again.

“when do you plan to talk to her?” seokjin asks in relation to the last line in the letter.

yoongi removes his arm from his face and looks at seokjin. he sighs and slumps more on the couch, body sliding down lower until his chin rests on his chest.

“i don’t know.”

“you went through with it.”

jungkook doesn’t greet you when he enters your office. it only took looking at your tired face, the bags under your eyes, and the way you teared up the moment you see him step foot in the room with documents in his hands. he had no idea you were going to do it. he knew that you had everything ready after the hawaii trip but you never told him you were going to do it already.

“i did it.” the corner of your lips turned upward in a small, sad smile.

“huh.” he reacts, looking down on his feet. your brow furrows at the sudden drop of his mood, curious as to why his sulkiness doesn’t only indicate pity.

your friend drags his feet to get near you and drops himself on his favorite chair across you. “has he signed it?” he asks, dropping the papers on your table.

“i left the papers and a letter at home yesterday. he hasn’t made contact since then.” you answer, getting the papers he brought you. he takes one glace at it and was reminded why he was there in the first place.

“need you to sign these to finalize the deal with the kim enterprise.” he says as you examine the papers. “i arranged a meeting for you with them by your secretary. it’s on friday.”

you nod and grabbed the pen at the side of your desk. the metallic casing of the caran d’ache sign pen yoongi gifted to you is cold on your skin as you held it. your thumb caresses the engraved name on the expensive gold plated casing, feeling the comfort of the familiar rough texture of it. your name looks good with his, such a shame you have to give it back to him.

you shake your head and put it inside the drawer under your desk so you won’t see or use it again. this time, you grab a different pen, a normal one that you liked using for signing before your marriage.

you finally sign the papers and hand it over to your friend who was still looking down on his shoes. there was a slight pout on his face, so you wonder what was on his mind.

“okay, what’s bothering you?” you sigh.

he bites his lip before looking at you for a second then avoiding your stare. “it’s nothing.” he says before standing up.

you grab his arm before he can get away, standing up in the process. “get back here right now.”

his jaw clenches. “i just—i feel kind of responsible.” he answers, still not looking at you.

his words takes you aback, loosening your grip on him.

“what?” you let him go to stutter the word out of your mouth.

“you started to doubt him after the hawaii trip. after what i said.”

now you realize what was on his mind and understand why. you don’t indulge jungkook much on your relationship. despite him being your best friend, you didn’t feel like telling anyone your doubts on the marriage, not even yourself.

you only told him after the hawaii trip about everything. he listened attentively but you noticed there was something bothering him a bit since then.

jungkook liked yoongi. he treated him like an older brother. but you were his best friend and yoongi had his mistakes. still, he couldn’t help but things happened differently.

he knows that with this marriage dissolving, he might lose yoongi as a friend. but most importantly, he was scared that you will lose the light in your eyes. he was glad you’re going to be free of him and could not hurt you further than he was doing but he wonders if there was a slight chance that you would be happy for a lifetime just living in your bubble of a marriage that maybe wouldn’t have popped if he hadn’t shown you how to. he thinks this all happened because of him.

“kookie, it was doomed from the start and never your fault.” you sigh, before continuing. “it didn’t start with you. or even with me. it started with yoongi. but i’m the one ending it for all of us. the two of us deserve better than pretending everything’s okay.”

you really wanted yoongi to be the one to reach out first. two weeks has passed and there still was no sign of him wanting to communicate with you. if he wanted to cut you off so bad, why hasn’t he signed the papers?

so here you are now, in front of your apartment. the two of you have to settle with an agreement before your father’s birthday gala on saturday and you can’t do that if he’s still not willing to talk to you.

you punched in the numbers on the keypad lock. it was the combination of the years you were born. just another reminder how far apart you were. although five years isn’t really a huge age difference, it was another factor that doesn’t make you her.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous that the passkey would be changed. but as the lock in front of you dinged green and let you in, a sense of relief comes to you.

you know that yoongi isn’t here and still at work. with that knowledge, you allow yourself to check the place. it was just like you left it, clean and quiet. there isn’t much food left in the fridge so you figure that he’s been eating out. at least, that’s what you wish. you hope his secretary, kim taehyung, is making sure he eats well.

you look over your wrist watch. there’s still more than an hour before yoongi comes home. with the time you have, you can cook a few side dishes he can eat with take out. without thinking more about it, you get to work.

wearing your apron, you hum to yourself while preparing the ingredients, finding yourself easily lost in how much the place and activity felt like second skin to you.

there are two coping mechanisms when you’re anxious for what’s in store in the future. first, is you think about it every minute of the day and let it destroy you. second, you completely ignore it until it happens. you were obviously doing the latter this time.

you haven’t thought about how you’re going to talk about the divorce to your parents. so far, the only people who knows about it from your side is jungkook, your secretary, and maria. you don’t know who yoongi has told yet but you’re sure seokjin knows. that’s four people. four people outside your relationship that knows what’s in store.

the moment more people know, it’s irreversible and real.

you wonder how your parents will react. their only daughter, divorced at a young age with no children. they won’t be happy but you’re sure they’ll understand.

just as you were putting the cooked dishes inside their tupperware, you hear the door open. you hold your breath and freeze. suddenly scared of his reaction to your unannounced return.

this is the first time you’ve seen him in two weeks yet you don’t know how to act. instead, you watch as yoongi drags his body inside, eyes on his feet and head hung low like a zombie. your heart breaks at how tired he looks.

“yoongi.”

his whole body tenses up and freezes for a moment before finally looking up to look at you. it seems as if his eyes couldn’t believe what he was seeing. you, in your apron, cooking as if nothing happened.

“y–y/n.” he stutters as he straightens his posture, countenance brightening. “wha–what are you doing here?” he fixes his tie while walking over to you.

the loud clasps of you closing air-tight containers filled the room before you answer his question. “dad’s birthday is on saturday.” you start as you stack the containers inside the fridge. “if you’re not ready to talk about it, we should come to an agreement for the birthday gala.”

you had your back turned to him so you can’t see his face as he replied but you notice the way his voice drops in disappointment. “oh. the gala.”

you don’t understand. what was he expecting? for you to take back your word on the divorce? you saw how his face brightened when he saw you in the kitchen. you hate how he is so obviously disappointed when he realized you were only here to talk about the gala. you hate how he hasn’t contacted you in two weeks. it’s so yoongi of him to give you space when he feels, or rather assumes, you need it. you hate how he doesn’t understand that the space was for him��for him to decide whether to correct his wrongs or to put an end to it. you hate how he hasn’t fought for you. you hate how much you wish he would ask you to take him back. you hate that because of him–because of her, you can’t stay. but above it all, you hate yourself.

you hate that even if you’ve decided to put an end to it, you can’t help but feel regret.

the gala arrives faster than you hope it would.

when you and yoongi had the conversation in the penthouse, you both agreed to go to the gala together like nothing happened. with that, he decided to forego the driver for tonight, personally fetching you from your apartment.

it was weird.

the agreement was you will act like there wasn’t to be a divorce in public, not when you were alone. yet when he arrives at your door, he holds a beautiful bouquet of a variety of flowers as if you were still dating. he opens the door to you with a charming smile and made jokes in the car as he hummed to the music on the radio like he was having fun.

his slim-fit single-breasted armani suit in midnight blue suits him like it’s second skin. he wears with it a black shirt with a silver-striped midnight blue necktie. it was nothing new to you. formal wear was something he wore often. but tonight, you had to stop yourself from drooling at how good your future ex-husband looked.

and how good he looked next to you.

complementing his midnight blue outfit, you wore an evening dress in the same color. it was nothing grand but it was classy. a tight-fit, spaghetti-strapped silk dress that hugged your curves, modest in front but backless to your lower back. on your neck and ears is a simple set of diamond necklace and earrings your father has gifted you on one of your birthdays.

everyone greeted you with big smiles as you strode into room with his hand on your waist. you were the l/n’s only daughter, after all. and beside you was the famous min.

the night went by easily. the two of you faked your smiles here and there. the two of you weren’t just born into your position in your companies, you both knew how to act and earned them. just like that, it was easy to pretend that you were both very in love.

well, there wasn’t much pretending on your part before.

after you had made your greetings to your parents and yoongi’s and when all of the guests are mostly seated and has left you alone, yoongi and you sat side by side on one circular table. your father was about to make his birthday speech.

“y/n. yoongi.”

kim seokjin greets you with a sigh of relief as he sat down beside yoongi. “thank god the hags has left you alone. i was bored in the corner watching it all end.” he sits beside yoongi and you gave him a smile.

you’ve always liked seokjin. he was a good friend not only to yoongi but also to you. he might not be the ceo type like his brother namjoon but he has his own charms. not finding his passion in business, he turned to modeling and acting instead and gave the position to his younger brother. you trust that he will take care of yoongi when you can no longer do it for him.

“tell me about it.” your head whips to your best friend that now sits beside you.

there is a sense of relief that flashes to you when the two people you both trust are now beside you. it’s as if they were your safe zone. jungkook had always been your person and seokjin was yoongi’s. they are the first person to know everything about you two, even if there are no words said.

you can’t help but wonder what they think. do they think you are making the right decision?

“don’t look so down or people are going to notice.” jungkook whispers in your ear through a smile.

you glare at him and was about to reply with a comeback when the lights dimmed, indicating the program was about to start. your father walks to the platform gracefully. ever the sophisticated man, everyone’s head turned to him as he moved. he clears his throat before speaking.

“good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

whatever words that come out of his mouth were a blur to you after the greeting. it was the same every year, anyway.

instead, your mind drifts to the person beside you. next year, at the same gala, he would not be sitting next to you like this. it’s funny how a seat symbolizes something so important to you.

being married, it was always a given. you save each other a seat because you belong beside him. knowing that the spot next to you won’t be his anymore, it breaks your heart because it was always his to own even if the day that he won’t be sitting there comes.

it’s such a shame your spot next to him is borrowed. as much as you want to, you can’t have the seat beside him anymore.

yoongi tenses beside you. you are so beautiful with your hair fixed like that. he can’t take his eyes off of you. he wants to memorize every detail of you so he can take it with him everywhere.

he figured that he can’t let you stay at an unfair relationship. he knew you were right. it has to end.

you loved him more than he deserved. he shouldn’t have loved you because of her. he should have loved you because you were you.

with his time left with you, he would at least try to make things right.

his hand twitches on his side as he stared at yours that lay prettily on your lap. the silver band around your ring finger glistens in reflection to the light of the room. he remembers vividly when he bought it.

the diamond engagement ring that sits next to it was the very same ring he planned on buying for her.

his bullshit plans.

his plans for her, he fulfilled them with you like a fool.

so adamant on doing the right things as if you were her, he didn’t realize he was doing the wrong things for you. it didn’t make him a better man or a better lover. it made him hurt you instead.

“i’d like to give thanks to mr. kim namjoon, who is our partner in a new deal arranged by my one and only beautiful daughter. a round of applause for these two amazing young people, everyone.”

your father mentioning you pushes out his thoughts as you give a thankful smile to everyone now looking at you. his gaze drifts over to who you were looking at.

namjoon, his friend’s brother. the cunningly smart ceo of the kim enterprise. yoongi had always admired his leadership skills. besides admiration, there might even be a slight envy of namjoon being a natural leader. he was rivals with him in business school. the guy was awfully talented and being seokjin’s closest friend, he knows that one of the reason seokjin gave up his spot for the ceo position is because he knows that his younger brother was far more capable than him. well, that and he just despises business classes.

yoongi doesn’t miss the way namjoon gives you his dimpled smile and a small nod of appreciation from his seat. he can’t help but feel a slight burn in his chest. seokjin never kept it secret that namjoon has a crush on you even before the two of you got together. he knows that it wasn’t the disrespectful kind. namjoon never crossed his line or sought after you. in fact, yoongi thought him to be too respectful, too nice, and too perfect. it made him insecure.

before, he was confident in your love because you chose him out of all the men at your feet. you gave him your love. now, he wasn’t sure you made the right choice.

gathering all the confidence he could have from his seat, he reaches for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. you don’t act surprised nor look at him but he vaguely feels you freeze in his hold.

he squeezes your hand lightly and all your tense muscles break loose. just like that, he feels your hand grip his softly. as if you were telling him it’s okay.

this one action was telling him that you still love him—you still find your home in him. it breaks him to know that you love him so much more than he ever did. it breaks him to know that if he asks, there is a great possibility that you will take him back. and god does he want to.

he doesn’t think he could take seeing you with another man but that would be selfish of him.

sooner or later, he has to let you go. for your sake.

you had your meal normally. the dessert does not taste as sweet with the silence between the two of you. seokjin and jungkook does all the talking, bickering like two siblings like they always do.

min yoongi was hard to read. how could he just hold your hand like that? maybe you were reading too much into it. this can’t be like this any further. you have to know what’s on his mind. he has to talk to you soon about it.

a shadowing presence towers behind you, urging you to look behind and see where kim namjoon stands. he’s on his feet, standing while holding a champagne glass on one hand and gives you a cute polite smile. he had finally approached you tonight. “mrs. min.” he greets.

you stand up from your seat in respect and greet him with a smile that rivals his. “namjoon, i told you to call me y/n.”

namjoon was older than you but not older than yoongi. although the three of you were in the same circle of people even before your parents introduced you to yoongi, namjoon was someone who just stood out to you since you were kids. you purposely sought him out for this deal because with him in it, it’s a sure success.

his eyes shift to the man that was still sitting on your table. “mr. min.” he gives a small bow in his direction. only then yoongi looks up and nods. “mr. kim.” he doesn’t smile back. even if it’s not like him to hand out smiles at every chance he can, you sense that there is something odd with the way he looks at namjoon.

“well, i’m not really here to talk about work. i just wanted to greet my new partner and her husband.” namjoon says, scratching the back of his head.

“but i am.” your father appears at your side, placing a hand on your back and namjoon’s, bringing you closer with him.

“go and promote the project with namjoon.” he whispers directly at you. you roll your eyes and namjoon chuckles and shakes his head. when he sees your reaction, he lightly pinches your side. “go!” he urges with a whisper.

“but i’m here with yoongi.” you protest while namjoon watches the adorable father-daughter interaction.

“yoongi wouldn’t mind.” he answers before walking in the middle of you and namjoon and to yoongi who directed his attention to speaking with seokjin and jungkook. he lays a hand on his shoulder and leans in.

“son, do you mind me taking y/n for a while? i know you lovebirds can’t be separated but think it’s for the company.” your father asks with shit-eating grin. the word ‘separated’ almost made you laugh at the bitter thought. you saw yoongi’s smug smirk at when he said it too. if your father only knew.

“of course, father.” yoongi answers while looking straight into your eyes.

you and namjoon were quickly whisked away to meet the guests. if you didn’t know what the invitations of the party says, you would guess it’s a party for you and namjoon.

from time to time, you would steal a glance at your husband who was still sitting with your friends. he was in conversation with them but is in deep thought.

“you’re going to burn holes into my brother’s head.” seokjin teases with a smirk. yoongi takes his eyes off you laughing at something your dad’s friend was saying and glares at seokjin instead.

as if it wasn’t enough, jungkook agrees. “yeah hyung, tone it down it’s kind of scary.”

“shut up, you two.” he growls and crosses his arms.

jungkook gives him a cheeky grin and slides into your seat. judging by the look on his face, yoongi already knows the younger man has an agenda. “what happened?”

yoongi narrows his eyes. “what do you mean what happened?”

“you two went together so i assume you’ve talked, right?” jungkook asks with a tilted head.

seokjin nods, resting his head on his fist while leaning on the table. “yeah, yeah. you’re right. i’ve been curious too, jungkook. what happened, yoongi?”

yoongi glares at his friend again and looks ahead of him. you were still talking to investors with namjoon. “tsk. we haven’t talked about it.”

“what the fuck do you mean you haven’t talked about it?” seokjin whispers angrily, brows furrowed as he leaned closer to yoongi’s face.

yoongi avoids the gaze of his friends. “i still don’t know what to say.”

jungkook dramatically slaps a hand to his forehead. “it’s not rocket science, hyung! say ‘i’m sorry. i don’t want yuna. i want you. i’ll be better.’” he says while doing his impression of how yoongi talks.

“okay, first of all,” yoongi puts a finger up in front of jungkook’s face. ”i don’t talk like that.” yoongi shifts his body to the other direction and asks seokjin, offended. “do i talk like that?” seokjin only shrugs.

he turns back to jungkook again. “and it’s not that easy.” he says with a sigh.

“he’s right.” seokjin agrees. yoongi and jungkook turn to look at him, wondering who he agrees with. the receiver of the stares continues his words. “yoongi’s right. it’s not easy.”

seokjin purses his lips, gaze hardening on yoongi. it’s not like seokjin to become serious like this, he’s almost angry. “it’s not easy to decide whether he really wants y/n to stay because he wants her… or he’s just afraid to be alone again.”

yoongi freezes on his seat, stunned at his best friend’s words. he hears the drag of seokjin’s stare as he stands up. from his peripheral vision, he sees seokjin fix his suit before talking.

“whatever it is, be sure it doesn’t hurt you or y/n anymore.” he says softly and walks away, leaving the two men seated pondering to themselves.

the ride back to your apartment was quiet until he parked in front of it. it was all over. you had said good night to him and told him he did a good job tonight. all that was left to do for you was to step out of the car. you’ve detached your seatbelt and had your hand on the handle when yoongi grabs your arm, stopping you mid-way of your attempt to escape him.

“can’t i fix this?”

and there it is.

he said those four words that he always wanted to say to you. he asks the question like you had the answer when he knows all too well that the answer lies with him. but this wasn’t him literally literally asking you if he can fix this, this was him asking you if you’re willing to give him a chance.

you slowly turn to him. there were no emotions in your eyes. no sign of anything. he had never seen you like this.

“can you?”

he swallows and releases your arm, not answering the question you ask back to him. how can he when he doesn’t know the answer? he had never known the answer. he didn’t when seokjin asked him that question when they were drinking. he didn’t when he realized that he sees a glimpse of her through you from the very beginning. he didn’t when you left him the divorce papers and the letter. he didn’t when seokjin dropped that bomb on him earlier at the party. he doesn’t know even now, where you had your whole self open in front of him, waiting for his answer.

wait.

everybody had to fucking wait for him. what was so great about a man like him? maybe he deserves to be alone. maybe you were better off without him.

no. fuck.

this isn’t about him. this is about you.

his priority is you.

he doesn’t want to lose you but you shouldn’t wait around until he knows why. he’s a mess right now.

you hum in satisfaction at his silence and inhaled with closed eyes. you exhale loudly and yoongi realizes you were holding back tears.

“i’m just–” you pause, your voice trembling. you shake your head and open your eyes to stare straight at him with pinched brows and pleading eyes. “i’m not so sure about myself when i’m with you anymore, yoongi.”

“you built our relationship on her, don’t you realize?”

the tears in his eyes well up before he even knows it. he watches as your face contort into a sob. you were breaking down in front of him like this. he made you feel like this. the woman he married. the woman he loves at night and wakes up to everyday. his best friend. his girlfriend. his wife. the woman he loves.

the woman who taught him to love again.

his mother couldn’t stand him moping around anymore. “it’s been two years”, she said. “just one date”, she pleads.

that’s how yoongi finds himself attending a dinner at a hotel one evening. he was running a bit late from work so he barely made an effort to look nice, not that he was making an effort for the past two years. he hasn’t cut his hair for months and he just threw on a loose black suit jacket and pants that he had at the trunk of his car. he was even wearing jordans, for fuck’s sake. he may be a teeny tiny bit out of place. he’s surely going to get a scolding from his mother at the prime age of 29.

the valet takes his keys in front of the entrance. it’s a good thing his family is a regular here. he doesn’t have to worry much about how he looks from the staff. the guests however, are a different story.

the looks he received were not much to think about. he was spared a glance but everyone just went on their way. okay, maybe he exagerrated with how he saw his outfit. yeah. fuck that, he was almost late.

he strides through the lobby, determined to get there before the woman he was about to meet but he doubts you’ll be late. he has heard of you. the soon-to-be ceo of the company that owns these hotels.

he can feel holes burning through his head, sensing that someone was staring at him. great. he’s being judged now like he expected. could this day get worse?

he shakes his head and steps in the elevator, turning to see the view of the lobby. he finds that a woman was staring at him. unlike him, she was dressed as if she own the place, clad in a simple black dress that reaches the floor with expensive jewelry all around her neck and wrists. she doesn’t even break eye contact with him as the elevator closes.

are people so shamelessly judgemental these days? he asks to himself.

“yoongi! you’re here just in time.” yoongi’s father greets just as he enters the private dining room. he bows at the four people seated. he can actually feel his mother’s stare from head-to-toe and hear her internal screams from where he was bowing.

your parents greet him with wide smiles. the staff slides the heavy chair from the table and lets him sit. he thanks him before he walks away to get a bottle of wine that your father ordered.

“my daughter texted me she’s by the lobby already. she’ll be here any second now.” your mother informs yoongi and his parents.

as if on cue, the door swings open to reveal the last person the party has been waiting for.

there you stand. the same person who was staring at him in the lobby. he sees your eyes widen for a moment when your eyes lay on him but you quickly recovered with a smirk you sent his way. a second after, you greet everyone with a smile.

you charmed your way through the dinner. you were smart, cunning, beautiful, and kind. you told him and his parents of your ambitions and wants for the company. even if you were at an age of dreaming, yoongi had no doubt you will be able to achieve them with the way you carry yourself.

you had so much light in your eyes. it reminded him of when he used to be like you. it reminded him of a time when he used to dream with her.

he walks you to the lobby after the dinner as yours and his parents insisted. your driver was already waiting outside. you stopped just by the exit.

“sorry for staring here in the lobby earlier.” you say with a genuine smile and walked again. yoongi was a bit shocked you would even bring it up. were you disappointed that he was the one you were meeting?

“it’s just that i smelled you when you passed by and you smell so good.” you explain as he follows you out of the doors. his eyes widened at your words. you weren’t staring because of his underwhelming style?

“it wasn’t because of what i wore?” he blinks, dumbfounded.

“what’s wrong with your clothes?” you look him up and down, examining. “you look hot.”

he was taken aback at your straightforwardness. “i’m a bit underdressed, aren’t i? few people were staring too.” he lightly argues, tilting his head as he fixes his jacket. the car door was already opened to you by your driver and was just waiting for you to come in.

“they were staring because you’re handsome, dude.” did you just call him dude? you huff before muttering. “you know for an old guy, you’re really mean to yourself.” dude, old guy, mean. he’s astonished at your choice of words.

“anyway, i gotta bounce. see you on our first date!” you jump in the back seat of the car as you said it. the driver shuts the door in front of him.

“i haven’t agreed?” he mumbles to himself a little too loud and sees you roll down your window.

“you will!” you give him a cheeky smile and place a hand over the rolled down glass window that was still slightly peeking out. “you haven’t told me what perfume you wear!” you giggle and finally roll up your tinted windows.

the car drives away and he’s left standing outside of the hotel, still dumbfounded at your character. he feels a bubbling feeling in his chest and he smiles. what was he so worried about today anyway? with that thought, he laughs to himself, not caring about the stares of passerbys.

that very next day, he texts his mother to arrange a first date with you. not because you called him handsome, or old man, or mean.

he agreed because for the first time in two years, you made him genuinely laugh.

his left hand gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white. the stare you gave him, your tired eyes begging him to say something.

“i don’t want to lose you. that’s all i know.” yoongi admits.

you press your lips together in a downward smile and shake your head, sniffing before talking.

“that’s not enough, yoongi. i’m sorry.” the words leave your mouth steady, as if you put the last of your energy in it. then, you exit the car, leaving him all alone in the cold-conditioned vehicle.

at the age of 27, yoongi lost who he believed to be the love of his life. at the age of 29, he meets you. at the age of 31, he marries you. and at the age of 33, he lost you.

maybe in another universe, he was capable of loving you. in that universe, he would be cuddling you in bed, naked for each other to melt into. in that universe, he makes you genuinely happy with him. in that universe, he is completely and undeniably in love with you.

but in this universe, he sits across yuna in a restaurant. she arranged a private room for them, coincidentally in one of your hotels.

“you’re divorced?” yuna asks as she sips on her tea.

here she is in front of him, the woman he loved all his life. from high school to college and to that very last day on that cafe. she was his first everything. his first kiss, first love, and first heartbreak. what they had was a love burning of passion. eventually, the passion led him astray.

yuna used to be someone who cheered for him and he used to be someone who supported her.

“you won!” yuna jumps up and down with yoongi, their hands clasps together in glee. “we won!” yoongi screams back. the cheers of the people around them blended with their own screams in the gym.

he laughs wholeheartedly and wraps his arms around her, sweaty body pressing against hers. time seemed to stop for yoongi, he could feel his chest burning as he looked at her, eyes screaming with happiness that sources from something else than winning his basketball game.

“i think i love you.” yoongi blurts out.

yuna freezes in his hold, wide eyes staring at him in disbelief. he watches as a wide smile paints her face with unexplained happiness. she nods repeatedly and squeals.

“i think i love you too!”

it was then that the realization dawns on him. he’s in love with his best friend. since then and there, he vowed that wherever she goes, he will follow her as long as she wanted him too. and if she doesn’t, he will still support her from afar.

“yeah, yeah four months ago.” yoongi answers her. yuna nods and finishes chewing the slice of sashimi in her mouth.

“hmm, that’s not really long ago. how do you feel about that?” yuna asks, not even looking at him at all.

it’s funny. he used to think about this all the time–seeing her again. now she’s in front of him but he is nothing but a stranger to her. there were no bitter feelings in her. it’s like yoongi was nothing but a thing in the past that she has forgotten. meanwhile, yoongi is wrecked.

“i don’t know.” he used to answer with those three words a lot lately.

“i’m not going to beat around the bush. you know i hate doing that.” yuna uses a napkin to wipe her mouth. she had the same face, mannerisms, and voice yet yoongi can’t figure out the itching feeling at the back of his brain.

he hears yuna put her chopsticks down on the table. he readies himself to what she was going to say, chewing his food slowly as he anticipates what comes next.

“do you want to try again?”

he fantasized about this a lot of times–less when he met you but it was definitely there. it was the kind of fantasy that a person don’t tell anyone, the kind that one doesn’t allow oneself to feed into. but sometimes, when that person’s guard is down, it creeps in like a thief in the night, showing him his deepest desires.

“what?” yoongi freezes and looks up at her.

her. time is kind on yuna. she grew into a woman that she always wanted to be. she achieved her dreams and never stopped for anyone. silently, yoongi is proud of her still.

i’ll let you go so you can find her again. your words in the letter creeps into his head. now, her is asking him back. he should feel ecstatic. it was all so confusing that it’s making him all angry. all that pain he caused you and he has the right to feel disappointment?

“we’re both single. we both changed. we weren’t perfect, yoongi. we were kids. we outgrew each other before but we can try again now.” yuna explains further, as if proposing a business deal. funny. wasn’t she a doctor?

but she was right. they outgrew each other. yoongi focused on his work and gave in to the pressure of being his father’s heir. slowly, the support that he promised her faded away. he became restless and anxious. all yuna wanted was to love him like they promised.

“why do you believe in me?” yuna asked as she lays on yoongi’s lap on the couch. multiple medical books laying around them.

the memory was still fresh in their minds. yoongi had gone over his ways and helped her study, creating flashcards and powerpoint presentations for her reporting in class.

yoongi caresses her hair, making her melt in his comfort. “because you give me strength.” he pauses, contemplating if his next words. “and i want more for you.”

although wealthy, yuna’s social status wasn’t in the same level as yoongi’s. her parents were doctors but her father died even before she met yoongi. it’s her dream to be as good as her parents in the field of medicine. on the other hand, yoongi, heir to his father’s businesses, is just aiming to do well to please his father.

is business his dream? no. he doesn’t think he has one. business has been planted on his mind since birth but yuna, he can see that she’s a dreamer. in this day and age, dreamers are rare. he wants to protect that of her. she didn’t ask him to but it’s his way of showing her he loves her.

“i love you.” she replies. “i always will. i mean it.”

“i always will too.”

“no. really! even if we break up, i think you will always have a place in my heart.” and yoongi smiles, loving the thought because he knows that his heart will do the same.

“and i will always come back to you.” he says seriously, making yuna giggle in his hold.

“that’s cheesy.”

“whatever. i’m not kidding. so you can go ahead and fly how high you want. i’ll always wait for you.”

in sales, there are commutative contracts, meaning the two parties participating give and receive equivalent values. but there is an exception which is aleatory contracts, which are basically sales of chance or hope. think of it like a purchase for a lottery ticket. you put money in without expecting anything in return but a tiny chance of hope.

that was what yoongi was doing wrong. he’s been seeing his relationships like a commutative contract when it’s far from it. he thinks that true love should be give or take but it doesn’t have to be. sometimes, you just love unconditionally without expecting anything in return but a glimmer of hope.

you loved him like that. like a fool, he thought he was giving you enough back.

“what?” yuna urges when yoongi takes longer than usual to reply. “do you still love her?”

your face immediately flies to his mind. how were you doing? it’s been four months since the divorce was finalized. there hasn’t been contact with you since then. such a scandal shook everyone you knew. there wasn’t a clear reason how you explained the split. ‘our plans for the future don’t meet anymore so we have to go our separate ways’, is what the two of you agreed to say others. both of your parents weren’t exactly angry but they didn’t hide their disappointment.

in those four months, yoongi buried himself in his work. he heard you’ve been doing the same. taehyung, his assistant, is in your friend group so he catches up through him. your project collaboration seemed to be doing well, he’s been hearing a lot about it lately.

in the four years of his relationship with you, he did love you. he cared for you more than anyone else. you supported him in all his endeavors. you helped him pick himself back up.

yuna was great. seven years of relationship wasn’t something you can just throw away. he still loves her and regrets the mistakes he made. if asked, he would still say that he will stop the world for her. people often say that usually, we don’t end up with the person we would stop the world for. he didn’t want that before. it had to be her. but now he understands.

it took four months of being separated from you and yuna in front of him for him to finally know the answer.

stopping the world for a person is impossible. you want a person that moves through the world with you and holds you through it. he wants to keep it spinning for you.

“she made my world turn.” yoongi answered.

seated on the stool in front of the bar wasn’t something you expected to be this busy night. it all started when you forced information out of your friend, taehyung.

“there’s something you’re not telling me.” you eye taehyung as he sits besides you on your couch.

taehyung, jimin, and jungkook came over in your house to hang for the night. they’ve been doing that a lot more than usual for the past four months. no one was saying anything but all of you were sure what was the reason for that. now, jimin and jungkook is passed out on the floor on the mattress for some reason while watching the movie.

his eyes widened and the popcorn he was catch in his mouth stops mid air and falls on his lap. he gives you a nervous smile and tilts his head. “your interior is kind of… ugly?” he blurts out, making your jaw drop and slapping his arm.

“the fuck? you know what i’m talking about!” and he does. it’s probably not very healthy in your journey of moving on but you still ask taehyung about yoongi. when you were married, if there was someone else who knows about yoongi’s whereabouts, it was taehyung. he was your friend first before he was hired by yoongi. meaning, he was your ally. he told you of his schedules when you ask and helped you plan out dates with matching your schedules.

taehyung doesn’t tell you much more than he should now that you’re not together but he still tells you when he thinks you need to hear it. there’s only one thing you ask of him to tell you even if it crosses boundaries.

you have a great feeling that that’s about to happen tonight as taehyung has been avoiding your gaze since he came in.

“he did it.” you concluded.

taehyung drops his guard and nodded warily. you huff and look back at the television.

he met with yuna.

unfortunately, namjoon was dragged in your misery. coming from your dinner meeting, just as you were about to leave, you bit the bullet and asked namjoon if he wanted to join you for some drinks.

it was bound to happen. he’s no longer yours. still, you can’t help but be hurt. were they together now? does he hold her like he used to and give him his adorable gummy smile while they cuddle in bed?

“another glass of this, please.” you say to the bartender.

namjoon looks at you disapprovingly as he takes a sip on his cocktail, the same one he asked since you both arrived here.

“why are you not drinking? you don’t even drive.” you ask him, a little bit buzzed. you’ve grown closer to the man due to your meetings that you can now call him a friend.

namjoon’s cheeks raise, an amused smile forming on his face. he doesn’t answer your question and just shrugs. you gather you’re entertaining to him when you drink.

“why is it that you don’t drive? you have everything but a driver’s license.” you thank the bartender as he hands you your new glass of coke and rum.

namjoon chuckles. “you don’t know this but i’m actually really clumsy.”

“no way. you? you’re like really responsible and amazing and cool.” you slurred your words out like a kid, pouting and laying your head on the bar.

namjoon grabs your shoulder, gently guiding you to sit up. “don’t lean your head. you’ll get drunk faster.” he advises. when you take his advice, he continues. “and you don’t know this because i put up a really good facade but i’m actually really clumsy.” he sighs to himself, tapping the bar with his long fingers.

“what do you do when you’re outside and want to be truly alone then?” you ask, holding on to your glass. you don’t look at him when you ask this because the question was not solely for him. you ask the question for yourself.

“i bike.” he answers. you chuckle, amused. you picture a namjoon on his suit riding a bike because that’s the only namjoon you know.

“i can hardly imagine kim namjoon, the famous ceo of kim enterprises, to be riding a bike.” you didn’t mean it in a bad way. namjoon has always been a humble elite, no matter how ironic that sounds.

“i do it a lot actually. every morning.”

“really?”

“really.”

“why do you like it?” you were like a kid asking these questions.

“i see a lot when i bike. people, trees, i can the feel the air hitting my face, the exhaustion from the exercise, it’s therapeutic.” he says it so genuinely. he really enjoys riding bikes.

“sounds to me like you’re persuading me to bike too.” you tease for it really is tempting when it comes out from his mouth. this is probably why he gets so many investors.

“you can come with me.” he blurted out, making you look at him.

“i can?”

he gives you that damned dimpled smile. “yeah. how about saturday morning?”

you don’t think you have any important business on saturday morning and if you do, you’ll just have your secretary push it. you were too curious on what makes namjoon… namjoon to care. and again, you were a little bit buzzed.

“i’d like that.” you answer with a smile.

you were tipsy but you’re not completely out of it to not realize why namjoon was doing this. from your miserable drinking to acting like a fool in front of him, you know he noticed your gloomy era. this was him trying to console you as a new friend and you appreciate that he doesn’t ask questions.

drunk decisions are seldom good ideas. luck may be on your side this morning. the thing is, you never knew how therapeutic this was. but god, were you tired.

“do you not workout?” namjoon jeered when the both of you stop paddling for a while. he watched you pant excessively while glaring at him.

“this is not the time to mock my physical unfitness.” you say through your pants. namjoon hands you his water tumbler because your dumbass forgot to bring one. before you grab it, he takes off the lid for you. you quickly mutter a thanks before drinking.

“i just thought you were with that ass.”

you almost spit out your drink, blush spreading your whole face more than the one caused by your exhaustion. did namjoon just admit he stares at your ass?

before you even get the chance to reply, namjoon speeds off, leaving you to scream his name in protest.

despite the expected exhaustion, you were glad you came with namjoon to his morning routine. you never realized this part of the city was so beautiful. you were someone who was driven everywhere since you were a kid and all the biking you had done past your teenage years are on the stationary bike at the gym you rarely go to. you never realized a change of transportation brings a different view of the city.

you don’t easily catch up with namjoon. it took him to slow down with his pedalling for you to be inline with him. when you were back to his side, slowly pedalling this time, he started to randomly give you the names and facts of the trees and plants you passed by. you found it adorable how much he knew about botany. it made sense how he goes out of his way more than other businessmen when it comes to the environment. although it’s a reality that capitalism and environmental care can hardly co-exist, you can see from his work that namjoon tries hard.

“i’m not very good at things people are normally good at. when i feel that things are getting too tight, looking at art keeps me grounded. sometimes all you really need is a moment of pause or to step back and see the bigger picture.”

you ask him more of his hobbies, learning more about namjoon was an unexpected delight. he is so different from his reputation. he’s actually pretty child-like and now you see why seokjin loves to take care of him even if people believe namjoon takes care of seokjin more. he tries cooking but he fails more than he succeeds. he often breaks a myriad of things. he’s scared of driving. it seemed to him that destruction follows him everywhere he goes and anything he does. except business. it’s the thing he’s good at. that, and growing his bonsais.

besides biking and taking in nature, he’s an art appreciator of any form.

“you get invitations to every museum in the country?”

“yep. if you want to go to a specific one, i can get them for you.” he suggests.

he has lead you to the riverside, stopping by to feel the air by the water. he leans on the railings as he drinks water.

“hm. biking and now museums?” you tease, hinting something. you weren’t ignorant to what seokjin says about his brother. still, you never thought it to be serious before but now you were testing the waters. it’s not healthy to lead him on when you aren’t ready for another relationship.

he shakes his head. “i know what seokjin blabs about. but really, i’m just trying to be a friend.” he confesses. “for now.” he adds.

you take his answer as it is and not press further. you and your companion’s silence grows heavy for a while, not in an awkward way but rather a comforting one. the scenery in front of you pulls you in, as if to not worry about anything.

it’s funny. you were always going on trips with yoongi, pulling him everywhere so you can create memories. your destinations were breathtakingly beautiful and known worldwide. you took pictures here and there but you don’t think you looked as much as you did now. why is it a river, one you see in your city everyday, is making you feel more than the wonders of the world?

it’s because in front of those landmarks, ocean, tourist spots, you see him in the front lines. loving yoongi is a privilege you will forever be thankful for. and if you were asked, you will do it all over again.

“do you know why yoongi and i didn’t work out?”

the raised brows on his face meant he didn’t expect the question. he purses his lips and shakes his head. “i only know what you’ve said to the others.”

“there really wasn’t much reason.” you tell him. “he actually was a pretty great husband, more than most of us can ask for.”

you began telling him the story and he listens attentively all throughout, nodding from time to time. whether it’s because of his comforting presence or the beautiful scenery, you don’t know why you spilled everything to him. regardless, you don’t think it’s something you will regret.

when you were done, he speaks. “it seemed he really loves you.”

what? “do you think i’m stupid for letting him go?”

“no, i meant from the outside. from my sight, it seemed he really loves you.”

“why do you think that?”

he takes a few second to answer, deep in thought. “i don’t know. call it intuition.” namjoon answers with a shrug.

you roll your eyes. “and who made your intuition reliable?”

“all of kim enterprise’ success.” he answers smugly.

you huff. “show off.”

“ha. i’m kidding. no ceo is great due to intuition alone.”

“yeah, shut up.”

you don’t know what namjoon was truly thinking, or perhaps, it’s truly intuition. your mind brings you back to when yoongi handed to you the signed papers.

the atmosphere in your previous home grows heavy and quiet as he puts down the papers previously in his hand. your eyes glower at the pieces of paper.

“so… this is it, huh.” you chuckle bitterly as you stare at his signature.

you were seated across from each other at the dining table in your penthouse. yoongi in his lounge wear while you went straight from work.

he doesn’t answer, forearms rested on the table. his slouched form made him look smaller in your eyes.

“i have one question.” you confessed, one that was lingering in your mind for a long time.

you don’t wait for his affirmation and continue. “how many things…” you inhaled. “how many things do you think about before you get to me?” he looks up at you, now looking into your eyes. “all those times you looked at me and saw her, do you even get to me?”

“because for me, i find ways to see you anywhere–the real you.” you continue. you don’t cry but you wanted to. but your body doesn’t allow you to cry. it’s as if there was something about baring yourself in front of someone isn’t something sad or worth crying for. it’s powerful.

“i won’t do it for long, though. i promise you.” you say and you mean it.

the two of you sat there in the dark, sitting with nothing to hear but the beat of your hearts. it all boils down to this. the two of you not moving, feeling each other out. there was no certain next move for either of you. two years of relationship and two years of marriage, abruptly cut. this is the last time you sit together as husband and wife.

“i’ll do the same.” he finally speaks. “i promise.”

your hand slowly creeps into his and holds it. his other hand goes over yours. the kiss of his touch pulls you in but you let yourself go.

you are letting him go.

more than a past lover, yuna was his best friend. he was spending most his days with her, learning what changed and what stayed with each other. today, he was having lunch with her at the hospital she transferred to from the states.

“she sounds wonderful.” yuna was genuine with her words as he told her about you.

“yeah. i was never lonely when i was with her.” yoongi agreed. yuna gives him a smile.

“how about you? were you lonely?” yoongi asked her.

“it’s hard not to be when we’re at this age and single.” yuna cracked a joke.

yoongi shakes his head, finding her words true. “you’ll find someone soon.”

“i have to now because you heartlessly rejected me.” yuna lightly stabs the fish on her plate.

yoongi chuckles but gives her a look. “i know. i know. i’m kidding.” she saves herself.

yoongi was glad yuna was back. he does love her a lot. it took them six years to finally say what they want to each other. they both had their faults and all are forgiven.

yoongi’s regret is that he couldn’t support her but in reality, they were supposed to grow apart to grow. it would never have worked out even if they did try. and even if they could try again, it was not the same.

they didn’t love each other anymore.

yoongi was in love with the thought of her and the thought of the boy he used to be. yuna was someone he supported with all of him. he did good. and he wanted to do better for you. that’s why he tried his best to please you. but it was exhausting him and he didn’t even know it.

his fault is that he got blindsided and forgot himself. internally and even if he wouldn’t admit it, he blamed you for it. so his mind started going back to how it all started which is yuna. he started comparing her to you and started seeing her in you. but he was too much of a coward to be alone to acknowledge it. it was all an endless cycle and he’s the problem.

“i know it’s been 8 months since the divorce, you know you can try again with her, right?”

the obvious answer was yes, he can approach you again. you can start again, he can go on his knees and beg you to take him back. but the first question is, will you accept him? and the next, should he? what if he just brings chaos to your life again? he doesn’t really want to bother you anymore.

“hey, hoseok!”

yuna calls someone behind yoongi. he turns his head to find a doctor who waves back at her. in his hands is a tray of food just like the one in front of him on the table.

“hey yuna. hey good looking stranger.” the man radiates good and happy energy as he approached the two of you. this is the first time he has seen a doctor this happy. yuna opens a chair for him beside her asking him to take a seat. he accepts the offer and sits down.

“hoseok, meet yoongi. yoongi, meet hoseok. i have a feeling that you two will get along.”

yoongi gives him a respectful smile and nod as he chews his food, not so cheery with meeting new people. “you can call me hobi.”

“wait, wait, wait.” hoseok rests his elbows on the table and leans in. “are you like, that ceo yoongii?”

yuna’s smile widens. “hold up, you know him?”

“hell yeah, i’m friends with kim namjoon. he’s a ceo too. do you know him?”

oh.

him.

he’s been hearing a lot about you two. it really is a small world, isn’t it?

“i’m familiar with him, yes.” yoongi answers.

hoseok nods. “yeah, we’ve been friends since i was busk dancing by the river during my pre-med days. we haven’t hung out in a while much since i got a bit busy with shifts but i think i saw you once or twice in the business section of the news.”

“that’s nice. hey, you’re kind of famous.” yuna adds in.

“namjoon’s a great guy and an even better ceo.” yoongi agrees.

“yeah, if you want we can all hang together. it’ll be a boys night out.” hoseok suggests.

yuna huffs, stabbing her fish once again. that poor dead fish, yoongi thinks. “y’all met two minutes ago and you’re already planning things without me?”

hoseok laughs, loud. “oh you’re right. it’s fine, you can come too. namjoon will probably want to bring his girlfriend anyway.”

it’s like yoongi’s hearing got better than usual as his ears were all in when he heard hoseok’s last sentence. “girlfriend?” he couldn’t possible mean…

“yeah, he’s been dating this girl y/n who he worked with. he’s been bringing her to his morning bike rides which is like a big deal because he never does that. and if he’s not busy with work, he’s like bringing her to museums for the past four months and stuff. that’s also one of the reasons we haven’t had time to see each other. but he promised we would hang soon.”

yoongi and yuna froze as soon as they heard your name. yoongi couldn’t even take in the next words hoseok rambled on after your name. hoseok kept talking and talking and all he can think about is you in namjoon’s arms.

he felt his heart go up his throat.

his chest physically hurt.

time froze for him. he doesn’t even notice yuna pinching hoseok and whispering something to him. hoseok’s eyes widened as he says sorry repeatedly.

he was bound to find out this way because since you both signed those papers, he was just another has-been person in your life; an outsider, if you will. if there was someone who he wanted for you, it would be namjoon. namjoon is the perfect guy for you. it was expected but it still hurt.

yoongi’s chair screeches against the floor as he stands up, his eyes gloomy and head down.

“it was nice meeting you, hoseok. but i think i have somewhere to be now.” he says and hoseok nods, saying sorry again.

“yuna.” he acknowledges her too as a form of goodbye.

“yeah, drive safe. i’ll text you later.” he nods at her and walks away, making his way home. a home without you.

“jungkook, jimin, what are you doing here?”

your best friend’s round twinkling eyes meets your tired ones as you entered your apartment. you shouldn’t have trusted him with your lock’s passcode. jimin is just focused on playing.

“jin and jimin wanted to try the new ps5 game and your tv is so much better than mine.” jungkook explains as he turns his eyes back to the screen in front of him.

“that’s dumb. you’re both rich and seokjin literally has a game room at home.” you replied with a straight face as you kick your shoes off.

“or maybe he just wanted to see how you were doing because he says you don’t hang out with your best friend anymore.” jin appears in your view with a water bottle in hand, giving you a teasing smirk as jungkook pouts.

“he’s jealous of namjoon.” jimin whispers in an obnoxiously loud way, purposely letting the younger man playing in front of the television to hear.

jungkook doesn’t deny or acknowledge what he heard and just huffs in annoyance. although you and jungkook were the same age, he often acts like a stubborn younger brother.

“why don’t you hang out with us next time, then?” you suggest, stepping in your living room and tossing your hand bag next to jungkook on the couch.

jungkook’s eyes widens but still doesn’t stray from the game. “i can do that?”

“why not?” jimin speaks for you when he sees your confused face.

jungkook finally looks at you standing then at seokjin who was now sitting next to him, now amused at the reaction on your faces. he leans back, his back meeting the couch rest.

“w-well, i kind of thought– nevermind.”

“you thought what?” you press on, raising a brow.

“that they were like, y’know…” jungkook scratches the back of his head.

it takes him a while to continue so seokjin does it for him. “dates.”

it was your eyes’ time to widen at the assumption, arms dropping in defense. “w-what? they were not dates!”

“i told you so.” jimin teases. jungkook glares at him. “to be fair, joonie told me they were not dates and i told him that too.”

“i’ve just been in a divorce. how would that make me look? how would that make namjoon and i look?” you groan before turning to head to your room.

you left your two friends arguing about their game in the living room while you freshen up. in the shower, you thought about yoongi. it’s been eight months. when is it okay for a divorcee to move on to another relationship? is there a definite time of moving on that would be deemed respectable to your previous one? have you moved on? will you move on enough to be open to date?

has yoongi moved on?

has he ever loved you enough to be someone he had to get over to?

you like to think that you were someone important in his life but you really wanted to be someone who made a dent on his like she used to. maybe that way, there would be a constant reminder of you in his life even now that you were gone.

is that bad? to wish you hurt him like she did?

knocks on your bedroom door snaps you out of your thoughts. you shout, letting the person know they can come in while you do your skincare routine.

“yo.” jungkook steps in, throwing up a random gang sign.

“what do you want now?” you feigned annoyance as he throws himself on your bed. his back rests on your headboard.

“i can’t check on my best friend now?” he crosses his arms and pouts.

you scoff and ignore the rhetorical question. “how’s taehyung?”

“my other best friend is completely fine, thank you.” he answers, childlike sass lacing his voice.

“i don’t think anyone associated with you is ever completely fine.” you raise your brows.

your best friend huffs, offended and now sitting to face you at the side of the bed. “you just want to know how your ex-husband’s doing. you can just ask me without asking taehyung. he’s my friend too.”

you tap your face one last time as you finish the last step of your routine, letting the product air dry as you face jungkook. “fine. how is he then?”

you hadn’t prepared yourself for the answer.

“i heard he’s seeing someone.” jungkook responded, eyes now heavy with seriousness.

you gulped, shoulder slumping and you don’t respond to your best friend.

he’s seeing someone? was it yuna? did they finally found each other’s arms? did he give her his gummy smile as he kissed her, telling her he had only truly loved her? did he sweep her off her feet with how long he have waited for her?

“i’m sorry. are you okay?” your best friend’s face written with worry as he asked you.

“is it yuna?” if it’s her, it’s okay. at least, you know he’ll truly be happy if it’s her.

“i don’t know. i only asked him if he’s doing better when i saw him at the bar one time. he said yes because he’s seeing someone now.” you nod.

jungkook bits his lip as he sees your stunned state but continues. “i didn’t want to tell you but… you seem happy with namjoon. so if you think can move on now… i think it’s okay.”

is it? can you really go forward with your life? do you even want to?

“get up!”

yoongi was awaken by a thud on his stomach. when his eyes fluttered open, he finds yuna holding one of his pillow, threatening to hit him again with it.

“fuck. what are you doing here at this hour?” he complains when he looks at the time. five in the morning isn’t exactly an ideal time for a guest in his home.

“shut up. get ready. we’re leaving in ten minutes.”

he doesn’t know what happened after those words. yuna basically dragged his corpse to do a morning routine and when that was done, he found himself sitting on the passenger’s seat of yuna’s car.

“where the fuck are we even going?” he says with close eyes.

yuna doesn’t answer and drove quietly. yoongi was too sleepy to press further or complain. instead, he let himself drift back to sleep as the cold temperature of the vehicle and the comforting scene of the morning lulled him back to it..

when yuna shakes him awake, he finds himself in a familiar place.

“why are we here?”

it was his and yuna’s university. yoongi hasn’t been here in a while. he admires the buildings that have aged well, if not hasn’t changed at all. “i was invited to a talk here later.”

“and?”

“i just thought you’d like to see it again.” yuna shrugged.

yuna led him to the field where they sat on one of the bleachers. there was not much people except for a few that were on their morning jog. how could there be? he doubts there’s a class at 6am.

the cold morning air fights against his thick maroon sweater that he threw on this morning. yuna and him sits in silence, letting the nostalgic view fill their thoughts instead of words.

“remember when we were kids?” yuna breaks the silence after a while “we had so many dreams.”

“i didn’t have much, really.” he scoffs.

“don’t say that.” yuna complains softly.

“what? it’s true.”

“no. i mean it. you’ve always downplayed your dreams. you had dreams.” yuna says seriously.

yoongi doesn’t answer. did he have dreams for himself? all he wanted was to become what his parents expected from him. yuna, however, had dreams for herself. she was determined to be a doctor even when all the odds were against her. that was the dream. he wanted to fulfill that for her.

some nights were like this.

“i don’t think I can do this.” yuna is breaking down on the bed with yoongi trying to calm down his girlfriend and roommate on his chest. she really is a smart girl but sometimes, it all just pents up inside and she couldn’t help but burst.

this is when Yoongi would come to her rescue. yoongi chuckles as he wipes her tears away. he doesn’t say anything at first and lets her cry in his arms. he lets the comfort of his warmth do the job of calming her.

yoongi loved the thought of being in service to the ones he loves. especially her. he loves how he is her anchor and how she immediately runs to him whenever she sees him. it’s like they were each other’s person.

“if you can’t do it anymore, then don’t.” yoongi suggests, looking down at her teared up swollen eyes that’s looking at him.

“what? I’m perfectly capable of taking care of you. i think.” yoongi suggests some more.

yuna pouts. “okay, rich kid. I don’t accept hand overs.”

he snorts. “they wouldn’t be handovers if you’re my wife.”

yuna freezes in his hold. “wife?” If her cheeks were red from crying or blushing, yoongi wasn’t sure but he do hope it’s the latter.

yoongi raises a brow. “yes, wife.”

he could see her hold back her smiles and bites her lips instead. “hm.”

“what you smiling for?” Yoongi teases.

“nothing. that’s oddly comforting but I think I’ll go back to studying now.” yuna giggles before jumping off the bed. she wasn’t wearing anything but his shirt and panties and from his spot in the bed, he could see her ass very well.

“is this you rejecting my suggestion?” yoongi smirks and places his arm beside his head, raising his line of view.

“It’s very very tempting, mr. min. I’ll tell you that.” she turns to him from her seat and continues. “make that suggestion a proposal at the right time and i’ll get back to you.”

“my dream was you.” he blurted out.

neither of them were looking at each other but their presence screams louder than any sight could ever behold. they were completely open to each other.

“and that destroyed you.”

“it didn’t. you did. when you left.”

it must’ve been the wind. or the exhaustion. or the way the university still feels the same as it did years ago. there was no bitterness, no pain, no longing, just the plain, old, truth.

“seven years. you just threw it away like that. why?”

no voice was raising. if someone was to look at them, they would think they’re just having a casual morning conversation, not baring themselves to each other.

“because you never had the guts to do it.”

yoongi couldn’t answer.

“you never had the guts to say you were tired. you just gave and gave and gave. you were chipping away and you didn’t even notice. instead, you got angry at yourself. you got exhausted. and i know you blamed me but you never showed it to me. maybe you didn’t even realize it yourself that you blamed me. you just sealed it all away so you could be there for me.”

“and even when i broke up with you, you never fought for me to stay. because you were disappointed in yourself even when i told you over and over that it was not your fault. you didn’t have the guts and you still don’t have it now.”

yoongi grips the edge of the bleachers. “why are you saying this?”

“i’m saying i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“i’m sorry i didn’t built you up like i should’ve. i’m sorry because i expected more from you. i was angry because i thought that you loved me less because you didn’t give me as much time as you did… but you shouldn’t have to choose me over yourself.” she takes his hand beside her and puts it in her grasp.

“you came!”

yoongi appears with a bouquet of flowers at the backstage of the auditorium. yuna had just presented her research that was chosen by the professors and doctors.

it really was a surprise because yoongi was already busy with his master’s degree and learning the business with his father. the last time yuna had something as big as this, yoongi had missed it. he never forgave himself as yuna was more than disappointed with that happening.

and that’s why when yoongi checks his phone that night, he could see the number of miscalls from his friends and father. he ignores them and goes back to sleeping beside his lover.

not knowing that she was looking at his screen the whole time and realizing she isn’t good for him anymore.

she peppered kisses on the back of his hand. “it was never your fault and i’m okay now. i’ve reached my dreams and you had too. even if you say your dreams wasn’t a sob story like mine, they were still dreams… and i am so so proud of you.”

“you look so handsome!” yoongi’s mom squeals as she takes a picture of yoongi on his graduation gown.

yoongi gives her a peace sign, but his eyes search around for only one person.

“she should be coming soon, son. didn’t you tell me she had to be at the hospital today? and we still have dinner.”

they didn’t understand. he wanted her here at his moment of success–a milestone and she wasn’t here.

yoongi watches as she caresses his hand. “i’m sorry for hurting you and i want you to know that i release you from that promise. i’m here now. you don’t have to wait for me anymore. it’s my turn to support you.”

“all the pain we’ve caused each other, all these years… i’ve thought of you and loved you. they weren’t for nothing because even when you weren’t there for me anymore, your support is what i carried on. you made me who i am, yoongi. i will always be thankful for that and i will always love you just like i promised.”

“what do you want me to do?” yoongi looks up at the sky, preventing the tears wetting his eyes from falling.

“i think you know what you want to do.” yuna smiles.

still looking up, yoongi cages his lower lip with his teeth, nodding in reply.

yoongi is rarely nervous.

but here he stands in front of a closed door, palms sweating. he hoped the paper in his right hand isn’t affected by it.

he hears a ding inside and the lock of the door click, indicating that it’s gone unlocked. he braces himself for the person coming out.

it’s now or never.

you open the door to the person that’s been on your mind for days, for weeks, for months.

yoongi was in front of you, paper bag in hand.

he was wearing his casual clothes, a plain pullover and sweat pants. he gave you his cheeky smile. “hi.”

you couldn’t believe you eyes and you take a minute to finally realize the situation you were in. you shake your head to bring yourself back. “h-hi! w-what are you doing here?”

yoongi was still standing there awkwardly and raised the paper bag in his right hand. “i brought you cheesecake. can i come in?”

“yes. i suppose you can.” you answer, unsure what was his agenda with his visit. you move out of the doorway, letting him inside your home.

this wasn’t your home and he had never been here before. still, he heads to the kitchen and gets all the needed utensils for the cake. he places them on your dining table, servicing you like he used to when he cooked for you.

you watched as he moved in your home as if a divorce never happened. yoongi was just like this, you think. he was just genuinely caring. one of his love languages had always been acts of service.

“eat. this one’s your favorite.” he had cut up a slice for you already.

he didn’t even prepare one for himself.

“what about you?” you ask.

“i won’t take long.” he continues. “i think.”

you sit down in front of the plate with the slice, taking a fork and a small piece of the cake. you know he wouldn’t let you talk if you haven’t eaten what he prepared. when you chewed the sweet piece of dessert in your mouth, you couldn’t deny you hated it. you loved it and he could see that, you were sure with the smile he was giving.

“why are you here again?” you finally ask.

“i just have one question.” he answers taking a sit beside you at the head of the table. you take in how much he has changed over the months. his hair was longer now it was needing pins to hook on his hair, and it was so so fluffy.

you take a piece in your mouth again, nodding. “yeah, sure.”

you weren’t really expecting the next words to come out of his mouth.

“are you happy dating namjoon?”

you were glad cheesecake isn’t a very chokeable kind of food because if it was, you would be fighting for your life right now. instead, you froze and look at him with wide eyes.

you don’t answer quick.

are you dating namjoon?

no, right?

there wasn’t a label established like that. but it’s obvious that something’s going on between the two of you.

and you like namjoon. he was sweet, insightful, and loveable. he was a good friend and would be an even better boyfriend.

“i…” you trail off your words, never having to said the words out loud before. you never thought it would be in front of your ex-husband, either.

“i like him.” you finally say.

you could literally see yoongi’s shoulder slump and his face fall. but he still smiles. he gives you a pained one and does the thing where he scratches the back of his with his pointer finger. “heh. i guess i’m a little late now, aren’t i?”

“w-what are you talking about?” you ask, genuinely confused if you’re getting the right idea.

“i’m saying i’ve gone a little late at winning you back.” his head lowers, not meeting your eyes.

your brows furrow. “aren’t you seeing someone? yuna?”

it was his turn to be confused. “no? yuna and i are just friends now.”

“but jungkook said you said you were seeing someone? at the bar?” you point out.

“oh. that was my therapist. i’m seeing a therapist.” he explained and your mouth forms an ‘o’. what the fuck jungkook, you think.

“okay, wow. misunderstandings. okay. sorry. jungkook was being dumb.” you chuckled and drink from your glass of water.

“does that change things?” yoongi speaks up. he gulps before continuing. “me not dating anyone?”

his eyes bore into yours as he awaits the answer. you think about it carefully.

does it change things? he is available now and he wanted you back. clearly, things have been going well for him. he was just friends with yuna and has been seeing a therapist. he was doing better.

but is that enough for you to risk getting hurt again? is him saying he wants you back enough for you to accept him again? well, he does say i love you to your face everyday while thinking of someone else entirely before.

does taking the risk involve waiting for him? you can’t just wait for him again like before–wait for him to see you, to look at you, to love you.

he was doing better but he isn’t better enough for you to take him back.

frankly, you don’t think you could get hurt anymore. you don’t want to put yourself in that position anymore. if you do, you feel like you’ll lose yourself in hoping. you can’t just wait for him forever.

you can’t help but be scared to fall back to him again. what he is over you is the love you have for him but what you have over yourself is the decision you make.

even if he offers himself to you in bare, you had that choice for yourself.

“no.” you answer firmly. “i still like joon.”

you thought namjoon only gets invited to museum’s inside the country. turns out, the man was an art connoisseur from around the world.

jungkook and jimin was dragged along with you to paris. your best friend acted like he didn’t want to be here but proved himself otherwise when his eyes sparkle at everything he sees in the city. he does have a hidden love for art and painting. jimin, on the other hand, is loved by the locals here, which is very rare for paris. one artist was so mesmerized by him that you think he’s practically his muse now. you won’t be surprised if you see your friend’s face in one of these museums in the future.

you only ever attend museums because they are one of the disguised ways for business people to socialize and mask it as some art appreciating good time. rich people who don’t give a flying fuck about these paintings only use them to flex and flaunt their wealth.

but here, namjoon talks to you in every painting, sometimes just staring at them with you. it’s really amazing how he knows so much about these artists and their art.

how does he store all those information? you literally didn’t even need the guide.

“this one’s famous for his dotting.” he points to the one in front of you. jungkook reacts about how sick the drawing is or something like that and you just agree. whatever your companions were saying, you just tune it out.

it wasn’t that you don’t care about the paintings or something like that. it’s just that your feet were killing you. you weren’t informed that this museum is literally so freaking huge. you had been walking this madness for two hours and you should’ve worn your white sneakers instead.

and just like all times, namjoon notices. he always does.

“hey, you okay?” joon asks as he looks down at your unresting feet as you shift on one foot to another repeatedly. “does your feet hurt?”

“no, i’m fine. let’s finish the tour.” you lie through your teeth.

namjoon sighs and looks over at jungkook. “can you guys wait here?” jungkook agrees and namjoon leaves in a hurry. no doubt about to do something about your feet.

“why did you wear heels, anyway?” jungkook asks, a little bit judging. jimin smacks the back of his head. “because this was their date!”

jungkook’s hand flies to the area on his head. “if this was a date, why are we here?”

“because you asked to come with to the museum like a dumbass.” jimin rolled his eyes.

jungkook raises a brow. “well if this was a date, why did namjoon insist we come with? and pay for our flight and hotel and stuff?”

it was jimin’s turn to be doubtful, and he looks over to you who was just listening to the conversation. the two wait for you for confirmation.

“don’t look at me. i don’t know why he asked too.” you shrug.

it was true. namjoon did ask you to a date trip in paris. he literally labeled it a date so you were a bit confused when he told you to bring some friends.

the three of you stand in silence after, quietly admiring the artworks in the room.

a few minutes later, namjoon comes back with paper bags in hand. he guided you to sit at one of the stoned backless benches in the middle of the room. jimin and jungkook continues the tour on their own.

he brings out a box of sneakers, beige ones that complement your nude outfit. he also brings out bandages for your feet. he starts to kneel down in front of you and you scramble to pull him up.

“no, no. i can do it myself.” you argue, making namjoon stop mid-air.

he chuckles and that damned dimpled smile comes out. “can you just let me do this for you?” he raises his brows and you sigh.

“fine.” you back down and he proceeds kneel down.

he began putting bandages on the areas you needed. he asks you if you needed more and you shake your head.

“well, would you look at that? it’s a perfect fit.” namjoon says when your foot slips in the sneakers. you smile, looking down at the beautiful man in front of you. he slips the other one in and does the shoelaces.

when he was done, he pats your foot and stands up. “why don’t you take a walk and see, cinderella?”

you giggle. you giggle like a school girl and stand up. the sneakers were far more comfortable than your heels as you walk. “they’re perfect, thank you.”

namjoon nods. “anything for you, babe.”

the rest of the trip flows easily. jimin and jungkook chose to be away from the two of you after the museum and namjoon brings you to a restaurant for dinner. two days later, you were heading back to korea.

namjoon sits beside you in first class and you were having a glass of champagne.

“thank you.” you start, fingers playing with your glass. “for this date trip, really.”

namjoon bites his lower lip and nods. “thank you too.”

“i just have one question, though.” you tilt your head to the side and purse your lips.

“yeah, what is it?” namjoon replies.

“why bring jimin and jungkook if this was a date?” you look over by the middle section of first class where jungkook and jimin were probably fast asleep. you wouldn’t know because there were privacy dividers. but you were definitely sure because of how hard they partied last night and how wrecked they’ve come back to the hotel.

“well, a little birdy told me something about you and flights.” namjoon explains and you were at a loss for words. how did he know about your fear of flying? was it seokjin?

“remember what i said?” namjoon speaks again, and you furrow your brows at the sudden question.

“what exactly?”

“when you told me why you and yoongi got a divorce.” you freeze. that was months ago. why was he bringing it up now?

“oh. that.” he was talking about how he thinks yoongi still loves you.

“i told you it was just intuition because i didn’t have proof.”

you take a sip of your drink and set it down again. “okay… then why are you bringing it up now?”

“because i have one now.” he fishes something from the inside of his jacket and you follow his hands with your eyes.

he hands you a white envelope. you warily accept it and observe it with your keen eyes. “what’s this?” it doesn’t look special but whatever it is, it had a relation to yoongi.

“it’s a letter. i want you to read it when we land home.” namjoon states the obvious.

“i had a really fun time, y/n. thank you.” he gives you his dimpled smile again. this time, there was no denying the hint of sadness in them.

whatever that was, it sounded like a goodbye.

namjoon suddenly changes the topic, whisking you away from the loud thoughts. you quickly hide the envelope in your pocket. you had a feeling that you want to give namjoon all your attention right now.

the flight back consisted of sleeping, talking, eating, and laughing with namjoon.

you both undeniably had a great time and you wouldn’t exchange the experience with anyone.

“so, this is it.” namjoon says as the both of you stand in front of the airport, staring at the streets where it is raining.

“thank you, joon. paris was a dream with you.” you say genuinely.

he gives you a genuine smile this time, nodding once in acknowledgement.

“but it would’ve been perfect if we kissed.” you blurt out.

namjoon grins and shakes his head. he steps closer and places a hand on your face. your lips met and they move softly against each other. his lips were soft, but a little bit on the rough side. the smell of his faint perfume, the cold skin from the airconditioned airport, the curve of his dimple in your hands, and the tingling feeling in your chest, it was all giving a different kind of warmth from the kisses you had in your life time.

he releases you not long after, looking at you longingly.

he steps back again, widening the space between the two of you back to how it was before. “that was perfect.” he says and chuckles. you nod, “yeah. it was.”

“well, i’ll see you around, y/n.”

“you will.”

now that was, for sure, a goodbye.

back home, the paper on your hand suddenly feels heavy and you were anxious to see what’s inside. but curiosity overpowers the anxiety and you open the envelope to see the letter containing it.

the folded paper you bring out had a ‘for your eyes only, kim’, written on the corner. your eyes widen. the writing was too familiar for you not to know who this letter is from.

mr. kim namjoon,

before i start with anything, first, i want to say congratulations on the relationship. well, i’m not happy for you but it’d be rude to say that. second, i’m sorry if my writing turns sloppy. i pondered doing this in email but it didn’t felt heartfelt enough. now that i think about it, i think the last letter i’ve written like this was to my parents after being forced in high school in one of those stupid english homeworks. so again, sorry if it’s bad. maybe i should’ve written y/n one of these letters, i guess that’s just another mistake i have to regret. but enough about me, this letter is about her.

i know that we’re not the best of pals, and i swear that i’m not doing this for you. i’m doing this for her. i may not be in the position to be this demanding but all i want for her now is to be in good and better hands. i need you to be that person now that you have her.

the first time i saw her wearing our ring, it was the turning point of my life. after that, she was every day of my life. and i took it for granted. i didn’t hold her the way she needed to be held. i didn’t look her like i should.

so now that you’re about to be her everyday—her person. i only ask you to hear these things that may be helpful. i may not be a good lover but i was an okay husband. i didn’t love her right but i still knew her and took care of her for four years.

she likes iced coffee in the morning from a very specific shop but if you make one for her, it’ll be her favorite because it’s you. she used to like it with lots of milk but strong caffeine. on nights she stays up for work, she prefers warm tea. lots of it. have it ready in a pot beside her. she loves midnight cookies too. the chewy ones.

when she has her period, buy her chocolates. not the fruity ones. she prefers the dark chocolates but won’t say no to milky ones. she doesn’t like white chocolates. nuts are okay too. no raisins. she hates raisins whenever and wherever you put it.

she loves spicy food but it will make her sneeze a lot after. she’s a bit allergic to shellfish, especially shrimps but she will still eat them because she’s stubborn. please always have medicine in stock.

she likes shopping for new dresses when there’s an occasion but loves it if you come with her and help her choose. you have to react really well. but you don’t really have to try because she’ll look good even with a garbage bag anyway. she’s very meticulous about clothes too. one faulty sewing and she’ll see that.

she doesn’t like people who chew loudly or talk with their mouths full. i don’t think anyone does anyway.

she watches the same movies over and over again but she will cry over it as hard as she did last time. she doesn’t like when people talk too much on movie night but that doesn’t mean you don’t react at the scenes. if it was a horror movie and she seemed a bit freaked out at the end, leave a dim light open when you sleep. let her hung to you when you sleep too.

when she has to fly out of the country for work, if you can’t go with her, make sure jungkook is there. she won’t admit it but she still gets scared when flying alone even if her secretary’s with her. it has to be someone she trusts.

she loves when you smell good. so choose your perfume well.

remind her of her keys or wallet because she keeps forgetting them. when you ask her to buy something, you have to tell her at least three times. don’t just say it like “oh hey can you buy me this when you go out?”, she won’t remember it.

she shits a lot. her metabolism is amazing, really.

she makes a face when you say she’s beautiful. sometimes, she even glares. but still, tell her she’s beautiful. because she will. she thinks and says you’re more beautiful than anyone else.

she loves more than anyone and she deserves to be loved more. even if you look through her eyes and see someone else, she will still love you endlessly. she loves so pure like an amateur magician, even if everyone else can see the trap door, she continues her show with a smile.

when she loves you, her plans don’t matter as much. because when she loves you, you are her plan. so you have to remind her to make plans for herself too. don’t make her drop everything for you.

when she loves you, even if you don’t give her what she gives you, she will still love you. even if she searches all the corners of the earth just so she can find a bench that fits the two of you perfectly, she will. she would make jokes that make you laugh when you’re down. she would stay up all night learning a recipe if you say you want that dish.

these are just some of the things you have to keep in mind. but really, it doesn’t matter. because when she loves, she gives it her all. it’s not hard to fall in love with her. there’s no doubt about it.

i used to think that loving should be passionate and overflowing. now i realize that love shouldn’t be burning, it should be just warm. the kind of warmth that a thick blanket gives you in winter. the warmth that a newly baked chocolate chip cookie offers you when you get home tired. the kind that gives you comfort, never hurting you. so, i ask you to give her more than what she gives. love her like she’s home.

it may be too late for me but not for her. she deserves to be loved more than yesterday, but less than tomorrow. please continue to love her. more than i do. more than anyone else.

min yoongi.

the thing is, the heart doesn’t have a specific size. it isn’t only filled with one person. yoongi has been receiving all your love and he began filling it with you. after yuna’s and his closure at the university, yoongi knew what he had to do.

the drive back to his house after yuna’s talk in the university was fast. he called up taehyung as soon as he got home.

“i need you to get me kim namjoon’s address.” he orders before taehyung could even greet him.

“hello to you too, sir. his personal address, sir? that’s kind of unethical.” taehyung teased. he ignores his secretary although he had a point.

“i don’t give a fuck, tae. get to work.” with that, he ends the call. he admits it was a little bit rude but whatever. he needs his address.

after preparing everything, yoongi sees taehyung had texted him the address an hour ago. he grabs a coat from his closet and heads off.

he was greeted by maids when he arrived and ruined the doorbell button with his unending pressing. they allowed him through the gate but didn’t let him through the doors of the house. he was asked to wait by the small garden in front of the house

the exterior of namjoon’s home was very modern and green, trees and plants surrounding it. you probably loved the different kinds of plants here. the flowers too. yoongi never cared about these things.

yoongi is rarely nervous.

but here he stands in front of a closed door, palms sweating. he hoped the paper in his right hand isn’t affected by it.

the letter.

he hears a ding inside and the lock of the door click, indicating that it’s gone unlocked. he braces himself for the person coming out.

it’s now or never.

yoongi was shaken awake by the sound of his doorbell being rang multiple times and there was unending banging on his door. he realizes that he his friends has a knack of being waking him in the middle of the night when the country is in deep sleep.

god, who and what is it now? he thinks to himself.

yoongi pushes himself off the bed and heads to his door. barely even having his eyes open, he peeks at who was at the door on his security camera.

he was pretty sure he was dreaming right now with what he’s seeing.

he was pretty sure because that couldn’t be you, drenched in what seemed to be rain. your hair was sticking to your face and you look you had been somewhere before this.

he scrambles to open the door, now seeing you in the flesh. your brows were furrowed together and your cheeks were puffed. your face wasn’t just wet from rain, you had been crying.

before he could even ask what you were doing here or even just speak, you throw something in his direction which he caught and clutched to his chest. he looks down and sees a familiar paper in his hand.

“w-what–”

“what’s this?” her voice was laced with venom, beautiful but incredibly pissed.

yoongi sighed. “you weren’t supposed to see this.”

you shake your head, stepping inside and slamming the door behind you. “no, but i did! so you tell me why!”

“tell you what?”

“why namjoon?”

“what do you mean–”

“you told this to namjoon but not me? you pour your heart out to him but not me?” you were no longer yelling. instead, your voice was at the verge of breaking.

you push him by his chest repeatedly when he doesn’t answer. “what is it? tell me!”

he stops your hands with his, caging your wrists in his grasp. “stop! i’m not sure what you want me to say.”

you tug your wrists from him and stare at him with fire in your eyes. “i’m asking you to tell me why you couldn’t tell me you wanted me and why. i’m asking you why you push yourself around.”

“i’m giving you what you said you want. you like namjoon and he deserved you more than me.” yoongi never raises his voice but you could definitely sense the boiling anger in his words.

you shook your head as the tears in your eyes were too heavy for you to speak immediately. “but what do you want?”

“you already know the answer to that.” he spat, raising his brows.

“no! i don’t! because all you gave me are a few words. i need you to tell me you want me, you love me, and why you do. you said all that shit to namjoon but not me! can’t you see? i need you to tell me that. how would i know if you don’t tell me? i need to be sure you love me before i take the risk of loving you again!”

you were out of breath after you screamed out your agony. yoongi could only stare at you with equally burning eyes.

and he pulled you in.

he pushes his lips to yours and held you close like you’d fade away if he lets go. his hand was at the back of your head, holding it firmly but not enough to hurt you. when you kiss back, it was like he could breathe again. like he was being chased by wolves and finally got away. like his world has finally turned at a normal pace because now you were here.

when he pulls away, you both stand there still holding each other with your cheeks flushed red. “i love you. it’s always been you.”

then he takes your mouth again, hands now wondering your body like he was sculpting it.

he pulls away, catching his breath while speaking. “i’m sorry. for everything.” then he presses his lips on your again. you could only focus on how he was here, kissing you like he never had before, like he was communicating with how he invaded all your senses.

he pulls away again, now foreheads touching each other. “please…” he says with closed eyes. “please love me again. make me yours. i’m all yours.” he kissed you again, making your heart skip a but as you gasped with a throaty sound against his lips.

he kisses you like he will never have enough, tongue exploring yours and everywhere. his hand moved around your body like it has a mind of its own.

before you knew it, he had led you to his bedroom and on his bed. he hovered over you as you both make out passionately.

then he stopped, pulling away to stare at your face beneath him. he smiled. then his tears started dropping on your face.

“why?” you mutter, placing a hand on his face, attempting to wipe any tears that fall as he fulls on breaks down above you.

“i love you so much.” he cries then buries his head on your neck. “please don’t leave again.”

your heart broke at yoongi’s plead. you were about to comfort him but you remembered what just happened. you laugh. you throw your head back and laugh. “stop crying, yoongs.”

he lifts his head and stares at you in the eyes like he was offended that you took delight in his misery.

“did you realize we just had our first fight?” and you give him a grin.

he looked a bit confused then he gets it, pulling you in a kiss again.

and the two of you lay there, making love until the morning.

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