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whereisten · 4 years

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Dinner for Two

A Yuta fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: A dinner at the high-end Osaka Moon leads you to the head chef and owner, Nakamoto Yuta.

Pairing: Chef! Yuta x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, smut, fluff, mystery, suspense, drama, crime, HORROR

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drug abuse, verbal abuse, mention of sexual assault, infidelity mention, deaths, and big, uncomfortable twist (the ending is not for the faint of heart, I’m warning you).

(A/N): Hiya! Well, this is probably the most disturbing thing I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy! Haha actually, this story was inspired by Yuta’s iconic tweet: “I will eat you”. Well, if that’s not a spoiler...Thank you so much for waiting. I apologize for the delay! Please come back later tonight for another spooky tale...Also, my apologies, I didn’t get a chance to proofread. I appreciate your patience. :D

_______

Life had dealt you some harsh blows but you found happiness wherever you could. Your management position at the vinyl store Neo Records gave you prime access to the best music in the world. Even if the employee discount was trash. You’d worked at the records store for a few months now. This followed you having moved out of your mom’s place. You’d lived with her and your beloved stepfather while you attended college but you’d had enough.

Your mom was a drug addict and her husband Scott only enabled her to continue her abuse. You couldn’t say anything to them because you were the child and they were the adults.

And, as they had always thrown in your face, they paid for a good amount of your tuition because financial aid and scholarships could only do so much for you.

Well, you’re twenty four now and still a child in their eyes. You couldn’t take your mother’s mood swings and Scott’s goading for her to thrash around and party all the time. If your mother wasn’t going to get therapy and refused your help, then you decided to leave.

You had a really good relationship with your dad. You’d wished you had gone to live with him but during your college years, he’d only made enough to send you some funds for your tuition. You appreciated what he could do for you.

However, now he was more financially stable and he wanted to support you so you could move out of your mother’s house. You’d live in an apartment not too far from your dad’s place so you could visit him as much as you’d like. It drove your mom crazy. She always tried to contact you and convince you that she was going to get help. It was a tale as old as time. She said she would get help but never did anything about it. Once she had you under her finger, she reverted back to her ways: skipping work shifts, neglecting household chores, and verbally abusing you. You simply texted her you were busy with work.

Your boyfriend Johnny has been a source of comfort for you over the past year. You’d met him at a club one night with your friends. You told him you didn’t want to go home that night and asked him if you could stay over. Looking back on it, you had been too trusting but Johnny had treated you kindly: he let you take his bed while he slept on the couch. He made you breakfast in the morning: banana pancakes and scrambled eggs. You had sex with him the morning after and you’d been inseparable ever since.

These past few weeks, Johnny had been busier at his new job at a marketing firm. You two were supposed to have a date night tonight but he cancelled two hours before you were to meet at Hal’s Pizzeria for dinner. After that, you were supposed to go to the movies together. You were always a big fan of the dinner and movie date.

You sat on the couch in your living room, feeling a little blue that Johnny was working overtime. So you scrolled through your phone while you watched episodes of an English-dubbed anime about volleyball.

You texted your best friend Carla about how Johnny cancelled at the last minute and she replied: Since you don’t have plans, then I have an opportunity for you.

You texted back, What’s up?

She replied, I had a reservation at Osaka Moon for tonight but I got called in for work. Wanna go? The owner is supposed to be hot as fuck.

You replied, Okay, want me to get his number for you?

She texted, Unnecessary. Thanks, y/n. We’ll go together next time.

_______

Osaka Moon was a high-end restaurant all your friends told you about. You decided to go on your own to the restaurant and have a date night with yourself. Being alone could be tranquil, you assured yourself. And you didn’t have to worry about looking so graceful as you ate so this could be great.

You dolled yourself up in a pale pink dress and some white wedges. It was an understated but elegant look. It was an expensive restaurant so you decided to go all out. You entered the Japanese restaurant and gave the hostess your friend’s name. She immediately sat you down at a table that overlooked the bay. It was a spectacular view. No wonder Carla didn’t want this reservation to go to waste.

It was a shame Johnny couldn’t be here with you right now. This place was so romantic. There were indoor fountains with koi fish swimming around. The ceiling was painted in shades of the sunset with birds flying through the clouds. The aroma of grilled meat and vegetables made you salivate.

A waiter took your order and you took out your phone to take pictures of the restaurant and the view. You wondered if you would catch a glimpse of the chef your friend had mentioned.

As you move your camera around the restaurant to get a wider shot of the place, you recognize someone through your phone. Johnny’s hair was slicked back and he was wearing your favorite suit of his: navy blue with a ruby red colored tie. His height made him stick out like a sore thumb. The sight before you made you wish he’d be a little taller so his head could hit the ceiling. For the sight left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Johnny had arrived at Osaka Moon with another woman. She was generically pretty and you hated her even more. She looked like the mean blonde girl of every early 2000s romantic comedy. She wore a revealing dress that exposed her cleavage very nicely. Why were you paying so much attention to her cleavage? Because of the necklace around her neck: a necklace that looked identical to the one Johnny gifted you last year. It was a rose gold pendant with a rose at the center. Johnny kissed the woman’s lips as he sat her down at the table. She placed her hands against his slimy face.

Son of a-

Hot tears started rushing down your face. You were sure your mascara was running. You gripped your glass of wine tightly. You were surprised you didn’t break the glass then and there.

First off, you went to the restroom and checked your makeup. A little mascara had run down your cheeks. You fixed your makeup and took a few deep breaths. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red. What were you going to do now? There was a chance he’d see you and you didn’t want to see the stupid look on his face when he realized he’d been found out.

And you didn’t want to imagine what other reaction he could have. All of this happening in such an extravagant place made you seethe.

Johnny made a fool out of you and his infidelity carved a hole so deeply into your heart, you wanted to scream. So you took a few more minutes to collect yourself. You imagined your entree would be out soon enough anyway. You quickly realized what you needed to do.

You made a beeline for the entrance of the restaurant and approached the first staff member you saw. He was a slender and striking young man. His long brown hair was tied up in a bun. His chiseled face made everyone’s heads turn. His heart shaped lips were perfect. And…

Why were you thinking all of these things when you’d just been cheated on?

Wait a second…

Why couldn’t you think this way? As of ten minutes ago, your relationship with Johnny was over.

The handsome man was talking to one of the hostesses. The hostess was biting her lips and making googly eyes at him. This was awkward but you were resolved to ask him for help.

You tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”

He turned around and eye contact with him nearly sent you into the stratosphere. His eyes were the deepest brown and when he looked at you, you felt like you were his world.

His eyes were that intense.

“How can I help you?” He smiled, his perfect set of teeth greeted you.

“Hi...Um, what’s your name?” You start, awkward at the start.

He smiled even wider, “Yuta, miss. And yours?”

“I’m y/n. Can I make a special request?”

You didn’t know it then but Yuta watched you enter the restaurant earlier. He was stunned by your beauty and your smile. You looked like a princess as you entered his castle. He saw the wonderstruck look on your face as you were led to your table. He’d never seen someone so happy to enter his restaurant. The young man before you was the owner of Osaka Moon: Nakamoto Yuta.

So for you to come up to him and ask him for a favor? He was more than happy to oblige.

Yuta noticed how red your eyes looked and was concerned. He wondered what transpired when he had to go check on the kitchen staff and couldn’t keep admiring you.

Although your eyes had been red, there was determination in them, he noted.

“Of course,” he said as you moved closer to him and whispered in his ear, making you both a little hot and bothered instantly. You both felt a spark from the moment you met eyes.

Snap out of it, you told yourself. He was very attractive, yes, but your heart had been ripped out of your chest. You wanted revenge. You had to remember why you were talking to this fine man in the first place.

_______

You sat back at your table, undetected by the clusterfuck of a man you used to call your boyfriend. You made sure to focus on your meal, which had been orgasmic. The dish was called Okonomiyaki, a pancake with sliced pork belly and cabbage. The okonomiyaki sauce, Japanese mayonnaise, and dried bonito shavings sealed this dish as one of the best meals you’d ever had. Your compliments to the chef, whoever they were.

You realized it was go-time when the handsome staff member brought the food out for Johnny and his date. All eyes were on the young man who said he would help you. You wondered why. Has your plan been found out?

The young man deposited the dishes to Johnny’s table. His radiant smile never slipped from his face. Incredible, you thought. After what you told him about Johnny, he looked like he was about to pounce on him right then. Even so, he looked attentively at you and accepted your request.

“Here you are,” Yuta said as he put down the plates of sushi in front of Johnny and Blondie. “And a special treat from our chef…”

Johnny and his date oohed and ahhed over their plates. Until the young man deposited a plate that had sauce spelling “Cheater, Liar, Bastard” on it.

“This dish is for you, sir. Have a pleasant evening with Girlfriend Number Two, you son of a bitch.” Yuta gritted his teeth at Johnny. The expression on Yuta’s face then both terrified and aroused you.

Humiliating your cheating boyfriend and standing up for you...It brought a smile to your face.

Even if you still wanted to cry.

Johnny glared up at Yuta, “What the hell is-” He then does what he never does and THINKS. He panics and scans the restaurant, looking for you. He finds you seated at your table. You raise your glass at him as you take a sip of your wine. You flip the bird at him in the process.

He stands up from his table and runs over to your table. “Y/n…”

The other woman is right behind Johnny and simply laughs. “This is her? From the way you talked about her, I expected a real threat...but it’s nice to see that I have nothing to worry about.”

So she knew? She was in on this? You mimicked the blonde’s laugh. “Oh, fuck off...both of you…How long have been together?”

“Three months,” the blonde smirked.

That hurt. A lot. Johnny must’ve started seeing Blondie around the time you’d celebrated your one year anniversary with him.

You guessed one year was his expiration date for relationships.

“Go…” You started. “Have a nice blissful year together. In nine months or so, he’ll find someone shiny and new..”

Johnny was at a loss for words. “Y/n, I am so-”

“Are you sorry?” You rolled your eyes. “Go to hell, Johnny!” You couldn’t hold back anymore as the tears came out.

Yuta came up behind Johnny and his date. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“How dare you?” Blondie asked. “I want to speak to your manager-”

Yuta crossed his arms as his lips quirked up. “You’re looking at him.”

The three of you stared at him with your jaws to the floor. This was news to you. You’d ask the restaurant owner for a favor? The audacity you had…

Your face heated up in embarrassment.

Yuta called over a few security guards to escort Johnny and his date out. Johnny couldn’t even look at you. A fucking coward. His other girl had more balls than he did.

Yuta put a hand on your shoulder and leaned down to speak to you. “Are you okay?” His anger dissipated at the sight of your tears.

You sniffled. “Yeah...Thank you...I-I’m so sorry for bothering you...I didn’t know you were the owner of this place…”

He squeezed your shoulder. “I was happy to help…”

You laughed. “You scared the crap out of me when you called him a son of a bitch.”

He played around with you. “Ah, you liked that? I’ve been working on my crime lord act...How do you think it’s coming along?”

You wiped your tears with your napkin. “Pretty good.”

You both laughed.

“Well, y/n...I hope you have a wonderful rest of the night.” He tipped his imaginary hat and walked away.

As you finished your meal, your waiter brought you a bowl of green tea mochi ice cream.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you started.

The waiter replied, “Courtesy of the boss, miss. Please let us know if there is anything else you would like. Your meal is on the house.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked in shock.

The waiter smiled. “Just following the boss’ orders.”

This night may have begun on a sour note but at least you could end it at this incredible place. And you were pretty sure you’d met a real life knight in shining armor tonight...

Before you left the restaurant, the hostess, annoyed, handed you an envelope. “Here.”

“What is it?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.

The hostess sighed. “The golden ticket. Have a good night, miss.” She returned to her stand with her coworkers.

You walked out the door and left Osaka Moon. You opened the envelope and found a handwritten letter.

y/n,

I’ll be upfront with you. I wanted to ask you out the minute you walked into Osaka Moon. But then I found out you had a boyfriend. And right after that, I found out he was a cheating piece of shit...So I’m at a crossroads here...Can I see you again? If yes, please call me at 555-127-1026.

Yours,

Yuta

P.S. The green tea mochi was good, wasn’t it?

_______

A week had passed. You and Yuta have been texting non-stop. He invited you to his restaurant to have dinner. The beef tenderloin he’d served you was out of this world. He made you laugh and shamelessly flirted with you the whole time. You told Yuta you weren’t ready to date so soon. You didn’t want him to be a rebound. You knew that once your heart mended a little more, you’d want to ask Yuta out. He was more than willing to wait for you.

You two had a lot in common: same taste in food, same taste in music, same sense of humor, and you both believed in astrology. No one was as unapologetic about being a Scorpio as Yuta was.

You and Yuta would share meals together frequently. Sometimes outside of his restaurant. And right after, you two would go to the movies like you wanted.

Two months have passed. Finally a couple, you and Yuta have just left the cinema. You’d just watched a midnight showing of Paranormal Activity 7.

“That was amazing,” you started.

Yuta snorted. “You are too easy to please, y/n. That movie was terrible.”

You slapped him in the chest. “You’re so full of it.”

Yuta chuckled. “Nothing beats horror movies from Japan. Just you wait…” He wrapped his arm around you.

You looked up at him. “Is that a promise?”

He kissed the crown of your head. “You bet it is.”

_______

“It is week nine into the investigation of Johnny Suh’s disappearance. Johnny Suh is a twenty four year old marketing consultant. He hails from Chicago, Illinois…” The news anchor says on the television screen.

You and Yuta are cuddled on his couch in his penthouse suite, watching the news. You were shocked when you first heard that Johnny had gone missing over two months ago. Even though you’d hated him with every fiber of your being, your heart ached for his family. You hoped he would be okay.

Yuta drove to you to work that morning and told you he would pick you up when your shift ended. He planned to surprise you with a backyard screening of “Ring”, one of the most popular Japanese horror films of all time. He’d set up a projector in his backyard so you two could watch the movie under the stars.

When Yuta arrived to pick you up, he saw you run out of the record shop and run away in tears. He ran out of his car to meet you.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” Yuta asked as he cupped your face in his hands and wiped tears away.

You sniffled. “Let’s go...Pl-please.”

Yuta was hesitant but he accepted as you definitely wanted to get the hell out of there.

The question on Yuta’s mind was...Why?

As he drove away from Neo Records, he asked, more softly, “What happened, y/n?”

“I quit,” you said.

Yuta nearly stopped the car so he could look at you. However, he couldn’t because the traffic was quite unpredictable so he couldn’t turn to face you. “What? Why?”

“I...I don’t...He...Uh…” You hiccuped between your tears.

Yuta gripped the steering wheel at the sound of “he”. “Who? Y/n, did someone do something to you?”

You were worried about how Yuta might react when you told him about how your boss, Mr. Fox, groped you during your lunch break. Mr. Fox had always been too friendly with female staff but you never thought he would cross the line. Until today.

“Mr. Fox touched...me…” You managed to say. You shut your eyes, awaiting the wrath of the Scorpio beside you.

Yuta was about to rip the steering wheel out of the car. “He did what?”

“He touched me, Yuta...And I...I didn’t know what to do...I don’t have proof...So I quit. I can’t be in the same room as him anymore…”

Yuta was furious. To see the woman he loved broken and helpless. You were his everything and you deserve nothing but the best the world had to offer. And to see you get treated like this? He wanted to beat the shit out of Mr. Fox. He wanted to see him cry and beg for mercy.

He didn’t want to frighten you with his anger because you were already shaken up as is so he turned into a store plaza parking lot and put the car in park. He turned to you and asked you, “Can I hold you?”

You nodded, “Y-yes…”

Yuta backed the driver seat up so you could crawl into his arms. He held you as you cried. His heart ached for you and he wondered what he could do to get you justice.

You were so thankful to Yuta. You knew he would be so upset once you told him. Your heart felt so reassured to see how passionate he was about you. He made you feel like you were his world. And you felt much better knowing that you had him by your side.

_______

A week had passed by after you quit your job at Neo Records. You couldn’t afford to pay your half of the rent so Yuta offered for you to move in. You were thrilled at the idea. You and Yuta were living like blissful newlyweds.

You were washing the dishes after you two had eaten some imported steak that Yuta had wanted to try out. It was incredible. Everything Yuta prepared for you was literal sex in your mouth.

As you stretched your neck to the left, Yuta wrapped his arms around you and nibbled on your neck. “y/n, you smell like raspberries…”

You froze and dropped the dish you’d been scrubbing into the soapy water.

Yuta turned you around quickly and pulled your cleaning gloves off of your hands and tossed them aside. He picked you up and sat you on the kitchen island.

“I love that you’re here with me…” He whispered.

The hooded look in his eyes made your panties soak. He lifted the skirt of your dress up like nothing. He sunk his teeth into the fabric of your panties and pulled them down, never losing eye contact with you. You loved how primal he got with you. He always left you with love bites. He always seemed to find new places to leave them so you can find them during a random part of your day and think of him.

“I wonder if your pussy tastes like raspberries, y/n...Shall we find out?” Yuta asks as he looks up at you. He was on his knees, looking like he was praying to his goddess.

You nodded fervently as you pulled your dress off over your head, only in your bra now. “Yes…”

He unclasped your bra so your breasts were exposed to the cold air in the kitchen. Your nipples were already hard at Yuta’s initial touch. He got up off his knees and began sucking at one nipple and rubbing the others. He bit your nipple and you cried out.

You grabbed at his growing member and he grunted. You unbuttoned his pants so his aching member could be free. You squeezed it harder and began rubbing up and down. Traces of precum coated your fingers. You worked harder to get him riled up. When he felt himself build up, you stopped and he looked up at you through needy eyes.

You kept going until he climaxed onto your arm. You licked his cum off of your arm slowly and it made his cock harder. He met you halfway and lathered up his juices. He loved the taste of his seed on you.

Yuta catered to your pussy which ached for his touch. His hot breath greeted your entrance before he inserted two fingers inside you. He coated his fingers in your growing essence. You adorned him with kisses and love bites. You bit behind his ear and he moaned at your velvet touch.

He laid you down on top of the kitchen island, throwing everything off of the table with a quick swipe of his arm. He straddled himself on top of you. He proceeded to give your entrance some kitten licks, enjoying when he teased you most of all. You got all bratty and needy and it always drove him up a wall.

“Yuta...please hurry,” you begged.

He tsked. “Good things come to those who wait, darling.”

At the sound of “darling”, you got even wetter.

He chuckled as he licked your folds and played around with your sweet spot. Never quite making contact and making you delirious with need. You gripped his hair, trying to maneuver him to hit your sweet spot already.

“You better not cum until I say so, y/n...Or else I’m going to get very angry…” Yuta said with a mischievous smile on his face.

Yuta underestimated his touch, you thought. The man was literal sex on two feet. You came quickly at the contact he’d made with your pussy.

He frowned at you, “My dear little slut, you’ve disobeyed me.”

You sighed blissfully. “You make me want to break the rules, Yuta.”

He laughed. “So I’m to blame for your disobedience, huh?”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, your tongue playing around with his. You kissed his neck and left marks against his collarbone as he teased his cock against your entrance.

He entered you now and you felt close to completion. He thrusted against you and you joined him. The slapping of skin against skin and your moans echoed throughout the penthouse. You were thankful there were no next door neighbors. You liked the feeling of this floor being just the two of you.

Alone with Yuta, you felt like the center of his universe. You felt like a queen. That no one else mattered quite like you did. Yuta always made you feel like the most important person in the world.

You felt the need to climax come back quickly but just as you wished for your release against Yuta’s member, he removed himself and pecked your lips.

Between your thighs, he gave you a dark stare. “I don’t know if you should cum again, sweets.”

You drooled. “Please…”

Yuta teased. “What was that?”

“Please,” you full on begged as you started to touch yourself. “I need you or else I’m going to finish the job.”

He gasped and laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

You coated your fingers in your essence and popped your index finger into Yuta’s mouth. He sucked hard.

“How do I taste?” You asked.

Yuta didn’t let go of your finger and bit lightly against it to tease you further.

You sighed. “Well, if you don’t want to fuck me properly, then I can’t force you. I’ll finish off in the shower.” You got up off the kitchen counter and nearly lost your balance. You were already weak in the knees.

Yuta fought back a laugh. “I’d like to see you make it to the shower, jello legs.”

You gave up and laid on the floor, giving him a nice angle of your naked body. You stretched out and started teasing your own entrance, imagining Yuta was building you up again. And having him watch from above on the kitchen counter, you felt yourself grow even hotter.

Yuta got up off of the counter and straddled you again. Without warning, he entered you and went hard. Tears streamed from your eyes as you climaxed quickly. Yuta continued you to thrust against your pelvis until he came quickly after.

Yuta took you into the shower where you would continue to fuck and he gave you new love bites. This time, they were on your ankles.

_______

A month had passed and you’d taken over as manager of Neo Records. Mr. Fox had fallen off the face of the earth and was reported missing. It was odd. Another man who attempted to ruin your life had disappeared. You thought it was karmic justice but deep down, it bothered you.

Your mother once again resurfaced after months of radio silence. She wanted to invite you and your new boyfriend (who she was very upset not to have heard about before) over for dinner. Scott and his kids from his previous marriage would be there. You hated them, too. They were a bunch of enabling brats that were after their daddy’s money.

You couldn’t say no to your mother, especially after she found out about Yuta from your dad. It wounded her pride that your dad knew something she didn’t. Your dad felt horrible for letting it slip in conversation with her. He couldn’t dodge her phone calls. He always tried to pacify her and talk to her when she called. So he couldn’t help but mention Yuta.

You didn’t want Yuta to know about your mother and her side of the family, for it brought about deep shame, regret, and painful memories.

But this time, you couldn’t run away.

You and Yuta went over to your mother’s lavish home, your old home for seven years. Scott married your mom when you were a senior in high school. Scott came from old money but he never worked a day in his life. The undeserving ass wipe, he was.

Your mother pretended to be the picture of domesticity as she cooked her once-in-a-decade dish of lasagna. You loved it, you hated to admit it now. You begged her to make it so many times when you were a kid. She always said she would but would always get distracted. Distracted with her new boyfriends or paying a debt. Sometimes you were truly on your own even if your mom had been physically beside you.

You and Yuta sat at the table with Scott and his kids. They prodded Yuta with questions about his ethnicity, his restaurant, his political beliefs, basically everything you can think of that would make anyone’s significant other runs for the hills.

Yuta took it like a champ. He answered them as politely as possible and whenever the question was too offensive to get an answer, Yuta masterfully deflected.

Your mom brought out the lasagna and served everyone. She gave an extra helping for Yuta. “I hope you like it, Yuta.”

Yuta nodded. “Thank you, Ms. y/l/n.” He took a bite of it. “It’s delicious.”

Your mom smiled brightly and gave you a look of encouragement.

You forced a smile.

Your mom could tell you were faking it and her smile faded. “You still hate me, don’t you, y/n?”

Oh no, you thought, not here…

“I make this nice dinner for you and your perfect boyfriend...Who is clearly way out of your league...And you’re moping around like a sad, pathetic little bitch.”

“Mom, please stop-”

“You don’t tell me what to do! I am the parent. You are the child. Get that through your thick head. God knows what poison your father has been feeding you about me but he’s wrong. I’ve never been better,” she says as she downs her third glass of beer in the past thirty minute.

She was already this inebriated so you imagined she drank before you arrived and drank more while she was cooking the lasagna.

You looked down at your lap and Yuta grabbed your hand. He squeezed it.

“Your mother has been coming with me to church, y/n,” Scott began, “She’s been conversing with the Lord and she’s been on the mend. Why can’t you see that?”

Your other hand that wasn’t holding Yuta’s had balled up into a fist.

Scott’s oldest daughter added, “Your mom’s amazing, y/n. She’s more of a mother to me than my actual mother is.”

That’s rich….Your mom always acted so sweetly with Scott’s kids to get on his good side. It was sickening. And to hear this bullshit come out of their mouth...You were about to reach your breaking point.

“Yuta, let’s go,” you said.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Scott asked.

“Anywhere but here,” you said, “Excuse us.”

“Y/n, if you leave, I will never talk to you again!” Your mom wailed as she gripped her glass tightly.

You snapped, “Well, mom, that just might be the nicest thing would ever do for me.”

Yuta started. “Y/n-”

“Go to hell!” Your mom yelled.

“I’ll meet you there!” You yelled back as you stormed with Yuta right behind you.

Back at your place, you hid in your bedroom while Yuta ordered some takeout. You laid your face down on Yuta’s pillow and smelled the scent of his shampoo mixed with his cologne on it. It gave you great comfort.

Yuta joined you and sat beside you on the bed. “The food will be here in half an hour.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled against the pillow.

Yuta sighed as he laid down next to you. “How are you?”

“Humiliated,” you answered.

“Y/n...I am so sorry…”

“Are you kidding? I’m sorry I took you with me in the first place...I...I could’ve kept you from all of that…”

“Your mother insisted, y/n. We had no choice.”

“Yup, that’s how it always is with her and fucking Scott. I fucking hate him. If it weren’t for his money and her obsession with him, she wouldn’t have gotten to this point, Yuta…”

Yuta rubbed your arm. “I know, y/n…”

You sighed. “I know there’s nothing I can do...It just sucks. I try not to let it get to me...Since it’s something I can’t control...But seeing my mom like that...It’s really fucking unfair.” You sob into your pillow.

In between your sobs, you said, “I wish Scott would go away...Somehow…”

Yuta hugged you as you cried. He wanted nothing more than to take your pain and suffering away.

_______

A month had passed since the disastrous dinner. Your mom was good with her word. She hadn’t contacted you or your dad. You’d told him about the falling out and he consoled you. He understood your pain more than anyone. He encouraged you to keep living your life and being happy with Yuta and so you did.

Yuta’s birthday was coming up so you wanted to surprise him. He told you he was meeting a client downtown so you got to work.

You wanted to take Yuta to all of his favorite places over town and you wanted to make scavenger hunt out of it. The clues would take Yuta to places that had to do with your relationship. It was a way of celebrating how much of an amazing boyfriend he’d been to you. The ultimate prize of the hunt would be a key...a hotel room key to the Lotus Hotel.

As you shopped for art supplies for your scavenger hunt one night, you’d noticed Yuta on his way somewhere. He had a couple of shopping bags with him.

You decided to follow him and catch him by surprise. However, Yuta was headed to a more abandoned part of town, where there were only warehouses.

You got behind a bunch of abandoned cars and watched Yuta make his way into a warehouse, where his car had already been parked. Half an hour passes and Yuta comes out of the door with bags stained red with blood.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. What the hell were those?

You noticed the shifty look in Yuta’s eyes and quickly, you grew scared. Terrified of being caught.

Calm down, you told yourself, it was probably meat for his restaurant. What else could it be? You felt incredibly stupid for spying on him like this. In fact, you felt ashamed.

You waited for Yuta to leave in his car. You crept into the warehouse and tried looking through the windows. You saw nothing but butchers’ paper and a basket of random items.

Except one thing stuck out to you. A gold Rolex. It was obnoxiously large that you could never forget about it.

It was Scott’s. It was one of a kind. He had it custom-made to be the only one in existence. And now it was just sitting there in a random warehouse…

But why? What was it doing in this warehouse that Yuta came out of?

Your stomach lurched at the uncertainty of it all. You needed to get the hell out of here so you ran off.

Not realizing you’d forgotten something.

_______

Yuta made you spaghetti and meatballs after work the next day. You’d been awfully quiet and he wanted to know why.

“Something bothering you, sweets?” He asked.

You played with your food and took a bite of one of the meatballs. Damn, it tasted good, you thought. It was savory and not like any other kind of beef you’ve tasted. You had to ask Yuta where he imported his meat from because there was nothing quite like it.

Still, you couldn’t look Yuta in the eyes.

“Y/n, look at me, please…” He started.

You forced yourself to look at him and just as you were about to speak, your phone rang.

You were shocked to see that it was your mom. You dreaded answering it but if it could deflect from the confrontation you were about to have with Yuta…

You answered, “Hello?”

“Y/n!” Your mom sobbed. “Scott is missing!”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. “What?”

Your mom wailed. “I don’t know what to do, y/n! Have you seen him at all since you came to visit?”

Your mind immediately went to the gold Rolex at the warehouse. “No, mom, I haven’t seen him.”

Yuta watched you with curious eyes. You averted your gaze and got up from the table. “Mom, please calm down...The police will find him. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Your mom laughed. “When has the police ever done what they’re supposed to do?”

You sighed. “Mom, I’m so sorry...If there’s anything I can do…” You felt awkward for saying this because you absolutely hated Scott and part of you wanted to say good riddance...But you couldn’t. You couldn’t add salt to your mother’s wound.

You mom replied, “If you see or hear anything about Scott, call me. Please.”

“Okay,” you said, “Bye mom.”

Your mother hung up.

You turned back to Yuta, who watched you carefully from the table.

“Your food’s getting cold, y/n…” Yuta mused aloud.

“Right…” You said as you sat back down. You took another bite of the spaghetti and meatballs.

“What was that about?” Yuta asked, concerned.

“My mom called. Scott is missing…” You said as you looked down at your food.

“Oh? Well, that’s terrible,” Yuta said. He looked upset enough.

But you knew him. You sighed, “Yuta, you’re hiding something from me.”

His eyes widened. “Finally, I was waiting for you to say something. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“What?” You asked.

He pulled something out of his pants pocket and it was your charm bracelet. His birthday gift to you from last month...You’d completely forgotten about it. “You dropped this on the way home.”

Your mouth opened in shock.

“How long were you watching me for, y/n? It must’ve been troublesome to be hiding in the rubble across the street…”

You lost your appetite completely. “You knew?”

“I knew you were tailing me yesterday…” He said as he picked at your plate and took a bite of your food.

You started pathetically, “I wanted to surprise you…”

Yuta nodded. “But instead I surprised you…”

“Yuta, what was in those bags?” You asked. “And what were you doing with Scott’s watch?”

Yuta bit his lip and rubbed the back of his head. “Well...Since we’re this deep into the relationship, I think I should be completely honest with you, y/n.”

The look in Yuta’s eyes was something you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t playful. It was more...evil.

“Do you remember our first meal together, y/n? How savory it was? How it was unlike anything you’d ever tasted?”

You didn’t know where this was going but you responded anyway, “Y-yeah…”

“Did you ever stop to think if it was really beef tenderloin?” Yuta asked.

Your eyes widened. “N-no…”

“Come on, y/n. It’s me...You can be honest…”

“Was it veal?” You asked, grasping at straws.

Yuta shook his head and a smile was fighting to come onto his face. “Nope...I grounded him up real nicely for our first meal together…” He muttered that last part.

“Him?” You asked.

“But who else, y/n? Think.”

You and Yuta ate together for the first time after...Your breakup with Johnny.

“Yuta...What are you…” You began.

“I think I’ve made myself pretty clear.”

You laughed skeptically. “Yuta, I know you love to tease but be serious for a second…”

Yuta’s face darkened. “I am serious, y/n.”

You shook your head. “You mean to tell me...Y-you killed Johnny?”

Yuta nodded. “Why, yes...Slit the bastard’s tire before he left the restaurant. Followed him home. Made sure Girlfriend Number Two was going up to her apartment and I got him right where I wanted him…”

“Yuta…” You couldn’t believe what he was saying. This had to be some cruel joke. And the fact that he was being so specific with these details meant that he wasn’t lying.

“So, yes, y/n, I killed Johnny and I ground him up. No evidence of that bastard’s existence is left now…And do you want to know why?”

You cried. “Yuta, stop it.”

Yuta wiped the tears from your eyes. “Because we ate him. You and me, y/n…”

You gasped in horror. You sobbed as you backed away from Yuta. “You’re a fucking liar, Yuta. Stop it!”

Yuta sighed. “Why should I stop there? That scumbag, Mr. Fox? Remember the day we made the sweetest love in the kitchen? And we had ‘steak’?”

“Yuta, no!” You fell to the floor. “Stop it! I am begging you.”

“You need to know the truth, y/n…”

You shook your head. “You killed them...And you killed Scott.”

“Ding ding! We have a winner!” Yuta rejoiced.

“You’re crazy…” You cried out.

Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it came. “Y/n, you don’t mean that. You love me. Just as I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment we met…”

You cried harder. “Yuta…”

Yuta got onto the floor with you. “I did it all for you, y/n. So you could be free from them all.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yuta was a murderer and...you couldn’t even think the word...

And you...you ate their remains...Johnny’s...Mr. Fox’s...and…

You looked up at the plate of spaghetti and meatballs and came to another realization. You ran into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

You gagged and coughed as you held your hair back.

You’d just eaten Scott’s remains.

Your world was crashing down on you. Yuta, the love of your life, killed three people. And that was only accounting for the people you knew. You had no idea what his past was really like. Yuta cut them up, ground them up, did everything a butcher would do with their body parts. Yuta fed them to you. He ate them knowingly and unapologetically.

And the worst part?

You enjoyed every morsel…

And you craved more.

Yuta entered the bathroom and held your hair back for you as he caressed your back. “There, there…”

Tears from vomiting ran down your cheeks. “Yuta...You really shouldn’t have done those things…”

“Do you really mean that, y/n? Johnny made a fool out of you and lied to you. He humiliated you and he didn’t stop his new girlfriend from insulting you. He was scum. Mr. Fox was the most vile of them all. He touched you without consent. Rapists should perish from the moment they think of touching someone...At least, give me that much, sweets…”

As disturbing as everything Yuta had said sounded, you couldn’t help but agree with him.

“And Scott...You wished to make him go away...And your wish is my command, my angel.”

You got up from the toilet and flushed the contents down. You went to the sink and brushed your teeth. All the while, Yuta watched you.

“Y/n...The consumption of human flesh has been a custom in my family for generations...These days, we can’t just pick and choose our victims. We must have an honorable reason to kill them. You gave me three victims. A feast. It’s what sustains me, y/n…”

You spat the toothpaste out of your mouth and swished your mouth with some mouthwash. “You...you’re serious?”

“I need to consume human flesh at least once a year or I will die, y/n...Why do you think my parents died so young?”

You thought about it. “They gave up on human flesh?”

Yuta nodded somberly. “I don’t want to die, y/n. Now that I’ve met you, I can’t afford to…”

“But why did you feed them to me?” You asked.

“To absorb their power. To move on,” he said, “It’s my family’s belief that once you ingest the meat of your enemy that you will overcome the barrier that they’ve created for you.”

You stood there, silent. You were afraid of what he would probably bring up next.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” He asked, finally.

You averted your gaze and stared at the sink. “I...did.”

Yuta met your eyes through the mirror. “I know, y/n...And there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Not with me.”

Tears escaped your eyes. Yuta was right. It’d felt...amazing. Empowering. And each of them were the best meals you’d ever had…

“Yuta?” You started.

“Yes, darling?”

“Never keep anything from me again,” you commanded.

_______

It had been a year since the news broke out over Scott’s disappearance. Johnny and Mr. Fox’s missing person cases had gone cold.

Since Scott was out of the picture, your mom had a mental break and was admitted into a rehabilitation facility. She is continually seeking treatment and is turning away visitors. She wrote you a letter, reflecting on her past mistakes and how she’d failed you as a mother. She apologized profusely and promised you that she would try to be sober.

And that’s all you’d ever hoped for from her. You knew that it would be a difficult journey. But the desire for change was the first step in the right direction. And you had a feeling your mom was going to succeed.

You married Yuta. Your father gave you away at the wedding. You were happy. You and Yuta traveled the world together. You had adopted two rescue dogs. To your friends and family, you and Yuta were the dream.

When you’d returned from your honeymoon, Yuta had bought a house for you two to start a family together. The first night in your new house, Yuta bred you.

You two laid in bed together. Yuta hugged you and asked, “So, has anyone screwed you over recently?”

You laughed. “Nope. Sucks for you, doesn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes and nipped at your ear. “A Nakamoto man’s gotta eat, y/n...Any ideas?”

You nuzzled into his neck. “You can always eat me.”

Yuta got a hard on at those words. “You’re too sweet for me to eat. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, y/n…”

You traced your fingers down his happy trail and asked. “Well, we can go hunting this week. I’m sure there’s some privileged college fuckboy that is beyond redemption…”

“You know what, y/n? There’s so many things I love about you but it’s your optimism that gets me hot.”

“Oh yeah?” You teased as you kissed him.

“I love you,” Yuta said between kisses.

“I love you, too,” you replied.

[Fin]

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youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Wash Out.21 (Sope Special)

[Master List]

Banners: @purpleskies1999 Pairings: Dolphintrainer!Taehyung x SharkDiver!Jin, Mer!Jimin x Reader, Scientist!Namjoon x MerKing!Jungkook, Mer!Yoongi x Mer!Hoseok. Rating: 16+ Genre: Mystery, Romance, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, little bit of Action, Slice of life, Enemies2Lovers, Friends2lovers, Social media au, Fake Texts, Fake Subs.

Summary: Taehyung and his best friend Y/N are Dolphin trainers at Wash Out; Marine Wildlife and Theme Park. When the nerdy marine biologist and resident veterinarian Doctor Kim Namjoon goes missing; the two friends form a ragtag team with Taehyung’s rival Seokjin and a…. Fish?

[Prev] [Next]

Yoongi stood still, his legs shaking. It was not normal for him to be standing for this length of time. They were mermaids used to having tails their strength in the water. Swimming was like breathing. Of course their legs only appeared on their sacred land under the ocean.

They couldn’t walk on human land, could never compare to their leg strength. Most Mermaids spent their days in the water only entering the sacred land for celebrations. Yoongi being one of many guards would protect the royal family, albeit there was no longer a royal family. Jungkook was all that was left, a prince forced to be a king before he was ready.

Guards were the most common of the merfolk to adorn legs. Jungkook was confined to the sacred land, his time in the water limited. Anything to keep him safe from the threat of other merclans. Each guard embellished in the silk of the clams. Byssus was woven finely like silk, the light material was surprisingly warm enough to protect the guards and King whilst in their more vulnerable form.

Yoongi looked across the crystal throne room, the love of his life standing just as tall, his stature stronger than Yoongi’s. A feat as Jungkook tore the room apart, bioluminescent vines and lanterns ripped from the walls. Food and wine splattered on the floor of their ancestors.

Hoseok’s mouth turned down, the sight unnatural for his usually cheerful disposition. The hardest part of their job was raising Jungkook, it seemed no matter how hard they tried to teach him right and wrong, politics and history they still came up short. He didn’t have a family, not anymore, he didn’t know how to share and never had to work for relationships.

Everyone adored him, feared him, doted on his every whim. He was given the finest foods and all the newest technology Merfolk could offer. Anything to keep him content in his prison. It surprised Yoongi that Jungkook hadn’t questioned his confines, that he was complacent with their level of control over his freedom.

Jungkook no longer understanding, why his new found friend was so reluctant to stay. He extended all his riches and gifts to the human, something other merfolk would cherish.

“Why does he still want to leave, with me he could be treated as a king,” Jungkook seethed, throwing a leg over the arm of his throne massaging his temples. “Leave me.”

Hoseok marched dutifully to Yoongi, supporting the older merman as they made their exit. Walking him to the entrance of the underwater cove, the air though damp enough to keep their lungs from feeling dry, they much preferred sinking into the cool water. Doing so allowed the power of the sacred land to slip away leaving only their natural form.

The two transformed their black and blue tails wrapping around each other, a romantic gesture Yoongi enjoyed more than he wished to admit. They relaxed in eachothers arms peacefully, sinking further until they landed on the floor of the large network of caves. This is where most of the merfolk lived as they were still protected from the open ocean.

Under the cove was wide and besides a few stalagmite and stalactite the surface was predominantly flat. However the local life was anything but, everyone bustling around the settlement enjoying tending to the seaweed, crafting and protecting the sealife.

“Jungkook, is struggling. He doesn’t understand how to handle rejection. He doesn’t understand that people value the same things,” Hoseok mumbled, massaging Yoongi’s lower back to help relieve tension from standing for such a long time.

“That human cannot survive long under the ocean, he grows weaker by the day, barely eating.” Yoongi huffed, “If Jungkook doesn’t let him go, the poor thing will die, Jungkook isn’t ready to experience something like that so close to him.”

“I think he has gotten too attached, losing this human might break him,” Hoseok bit his lip, “Dare I say he is in love with him, he could be his promised.”

Yoongi scoffed, the idea that Jungkook happened to find his promised one and he was a human, the first human he had ever met. Yoongi and Hoseok were unaware they were each other's promised until Yoongi had a week off from guard duty and started to get really sick. The two had met in the infirmary wasting away and only in one another's company did their condition improve. “Hoseok, that’s a bit much.”

A figure swam down the path quickly, heading straight to the sacred cove entrance, carrying something large. Was someone trying to attack their home? The two fell apart taking up offensive stances, each lurching forward when they spotted Jimin holding an unconscious human.

“Not another one,” Yoongi chastised, eyes sweeping over Jimin trying to be inconspicuous. Though he cared he showed it silently, not fond of open praise. The kind to listen and assist others out of sight.

“I have to make sure he is alright,” Jimin gave no further explanation, swimming up into the cove entrance dragging the human onto the sacred land. Jimin’s gold tail disappearing, leaving behind two bare legs.

Wrapping himself in a cloth, the two followed. Yoongi strained to lift himself into an upright position. Hoseok brought out their usual transport, especially for Jungkook’s deliveries. In this case they threw the unconscious human across the shell of the crustacean and they headed to their king.

“Are all humans this big?” Yoongi asked, eyeing the figure draped beside Jimin. The two crab-pooling wasn’t the issue, the way Jimin looked genuinely concerned for the human was. It was no good for humans and Merfolk to fall in love, the dynamic wouldn’t end well.

“No, they aren’t all this big, some of them are small, delicate and beautiful. They are magnificent, fascinating beings. Some are scary and mean and others are innocent and protective, just trying to do the right thing.” Jimin whispered, checking the humans breathing once more.

“Is he your promised?” Hoseok asked softly, not knowing how to approach the topic sensitively. Jimin smiled, shaking his head. The thought appeared to have amused him.

“He is someone else’s promised,” Jimin said, “But I think I met her, she was beautiful and strong, never letting anyone stop her, never letting bad things keep her down. She would swim head first into enemy waters to save someone she barely knows.

The human groaned, ��Where am I?” Jimin let out a sigh of relief, this human was waking up and didn’t seem to be physically hurt, at least there were no wounds they could see upon his flesh. “Am I dead?”

“No, you are not dead, you are in our settlement.” Jimin grinned at the disorientation present in Seokjin’s words. He was struggling to enunciate his words, each more like a whine drawn out.

Upon entering the crystal throne room the group tried their best to support the sluggish human inside. Gaining the attention of Jungkook, ceasing his brooding long enough to assist the three struggling mermen. As if hearing the commotion or perhaps Seokjin’s terrible jokes Namjoon emerged from where he had been staying.

“Jin! Are you okay?” Namjoon grabbed his friend, checking him over for injury, “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you and avoiding the police, I ran my car off the cliff and also may have destroyed the letter box outside your beach house.” He laughed, “Never really liked it anyway.”

“You did what?” Namjoon said, concerned, “Are you crazy?”

“Listen, we were being chased. It was all for you, and Jimin of course, returning Jimin and rescuing you.” Seokjin smiled at his friend. Yoongi thought these humans were weird, they were reckless and too odd for his liking. “I even teamed up with Taehyung and Y/n in order to save you. Do you know how hard that was?”

“Didn’t seem hard at all, you and Taehyung seemed to get along really well.” Jimin pushed the human with a smile, it was weird to see Jimin acting so comfortable with the humans. “We will return you so that the issue can be resolved, I am starting to grow worried about how we left.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asked confused

“Humans tackled Y/n and Taehyung dragged me into the water. Right before you and your car contraption fell into the water I killed the man who scared you all.” Jimin said proudly, this didn’t seem to go over well with the human’s. Yoongi hoped Jimin didn’t do something stupid turf war wasn’t on his to do list.

Yoongi didn’t understand the words coming from Seokjin’s face, if he had to liken it to anything, it sounded like vulgar slang, curse words. The human looked panicked.

“We have to go back, they are probably being sent to prison,” Seokjin said, trying to leave unsure which direction to go, “They are in big trouble.”

“Can’t you just talk to your king and explain and they will be removed from prison?” Jimin said

“Prison doesn’t work the same as it does here,” Namjoon explained, “Very Very bad people go to prison, Murderer’s, thieves and other despicable humans put in one place.”

“Yeah and if they go to prison, they may be beaten or worse,” Seokjin huffed. Jimin looked up at Jungkook who nodded, bringing out a small mirror and handing it to Jimin.

Looking over Jimin’s shoulder, Yoongi noticed a human different to the two infront of him, she was feminine delicate and leaking. “What is happening to her?”

“She is crying,” Jimin explained, “Humans do that when they are hurt or in despair, from what I have been told they do the same when they are happy too.”

“Confusing and a little stupid.” Hoseok laughed, “How do you know the difference?”

The charges have been dropped, Namjoon breathed listening to the interrogator, explaining that they couldn’t record the phenomenon that occurred on the beach. “They are being let go,” He smiled, a sight Yoongi hadn’t seen since he first laid eyes on their large domestic crustaceans.

“There is Taehyung,” Seokjin called out looking down, the two humans looked void of any emotion, they collected their things and climbed into the police car getting an escort to their homes. “They are safe and that’s all that matters.”

Seokjin smiled, his eyes leaking much to Yoongi’s disgust. Namjoon smiled, he seemed a little amused by the older human. “I remember distinctly you saying you hated Taehyung with a passion and wanted him to choke on a sardine.” They two laughed for a moment, “When did things change?”

“I guess when you are working as a team to save someone you develop an understanding.” Seokjin shrugged his large shoulders, “It also didn’t help that he was living in my house for almost a week.”

“You like him,” Namjoon poked him, “Admit it you have feelings for him.”

“We can head back when you are ready, we have returned Jimin home safely.” Seokjin smiled, looking around at the group and smiling, “I am Seokjin by the way, you can call me Jin.”

The man was goofy, reminding Yoongi of Jungkook himself, the two so alike in their childlike nature, letting themself play without hesitation. It was almost admirable that people could act so carefree, unaffected by how they could be perceived.

“I don’t know if I am allowed to leave?” Namjoon said, his smile falling, eyes fixed on the ground before him.

Yoongi looked at his king, the spoiled young man reflecting on his actions, it had been many days since they saw the young man smile. Almost expecting him to refuse, Yoongi schools his expression when he doesn’t.

“You should go, You don’t belong down here?” Jungkook took the mirror before walking away from the group to sit on the throne. He lowered his head looking at his reflection trying to distract himself from the pain. Letting your promised go was the hardest thing a merperson could do. Under normal circumstances, promises are only parted by death.

Namjoon walked over, placing a hand on the king's head and smiling at him, “If ever you want to visit, I would be happy to show you some great places, places you would love.” Jungkook’s broken heart warmed at the human’s dimples appearing softly in the flesh of his cheeks.

That was the last thing they needed, their king running off for a romance on the coast line. Seokjin swung his arm around Jimin playfully, the merman giggling whilst his legs almost buckled. “Yeah Jimin knows the private beach by Namjoon’s house, he can show you the way if you ever want to visit.”

Tags: @backinblack1967 @miriamxsworld @moccahobi @simplymemyself @a-gayish-unicorn @ella-mella @vjinfan23

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pandaponderart · 3 years

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Underrated Anime Part 1:

Hello my fellow Weebs, I’m back for some more Anime blogging, this time to talk about so not so well known ones. Some that have got forgotten with time, some that new Anime fans have maybe never heard of and the ones that I feel deserve more love and recognition. I’ve been watching Anime for about 13 years so I’ve seen a lot so this will be in at least 3 parts, so hopefully you like this and look forward to more. Til then enjoy, hope you can find some new anime you’ve never heard of thanks for reading and look forward to part 2!.

1. Azumanga Daioh(2002)

Starting off with an older Anime, and one of the best and earlier comedy, slice of life Anime that paved the way for a lot of other Anime in the same genre like Nichijou and Daily Lives of High School Boys. Off the wall and highly unrealistic, this comedy is completely over the top in the best way possible. it’s old but gold and should be crowned as one of the best comedy Anime to exist.

With the most lovable cast, you have Chiyo the 5th grader who is so crazy smart she gets placed in a high school class, then there’s Osaka, who’a real name is Ayumu Kasuga who’s named that because she‘s from Osaka. Osaka isn’t the smartest and neither is her other classmate Tomo Takino who will do anything to avoid studying. Then to balance out the cast is Koyomi Mizuhara aka Yomi, the smart one who keeps everyone in line and Kagura the sporty one. Then of course can’t forget to mention the teachers Yukari Sensei who is anything but the normal responsible teacher and to balance her out Minamo Sensei the responsible one. There’s no real plot with Azumanga Daioh but there’s not meant to be it’s just an over the top comedy slice of life, with moments that will make you laugh from your gut. It’s all about the characters and the ridiculous situations their put in and each one is a lovable idiot that really drives the show. Give this one a shot if you want a show that will put a big smile on your face the whole way through.

2. Eden of The East (2009)

Another older Anime, not everything on this list will be older Anime but there’s so many good ones like this!. Eden of The East is an action, mystery with elements of romance with one of the most unique stories I’ve seen in Anime. It’s a short watch being only eleven episodes with two movies following after which I recommend watching because they continue the story. I’m really surprised not more people know or talk about this show but it need to be talked about more!.

With one of the funniest and most bizarre starts to an Anime, our lead charcter Saki is on a trip to Washington D.C, when she gets in trouble for throwing a coin in the White House’s fountain she’s saved by a naked man who claims to be a terrorist. Not only is this mysterious man naked and claims to be a terrorist, he also has amnesia and is carrying a phone with 8.2 million dollars. Saki befriends this strange man and throughout the story they try to uncover more of his past, his involvment in an incident called careless monday and a dangerous death game with other players. They must also spend all of the money as instucted by the mysterious voice in the phone Juiz as well as try to save the world.

3. R.O.D The TV( 2003)

Ok I know I said this list wouldn’t only be older Anime but I guess the older Anime just has my heart and this one has a special place in mine. One of my all time favorites and one of the earliest Anime I saw and it still holds up to me til this day. It is hands down probably the most underrated show on this entire list and if you only watch one of these Anime please make it this one. The story is completely original, the characters are complex and endearing, there’s action, heartwarming moments, comedy and mystery, I wish there was more Anime like it, it deserves to be a classic.

It‘s a one of a kind show about the paper sisters Michelle, the oldest bubbly bookworm, Maggie the seemingly intimidating quiet giant. Then you have the youngest sister Anita who unlike her sisters hates books, she’s a bit rough around the edges but loves her sisters. Although they aren’t actually sisters they have a detective agency to help find lost books to help pay for rent while also doing odd jobs like being body guards. Their first assignment is to protect the author, Nenene Sumiragawa who is being threatened to be killed at her book signing. The paper sisters aren’t called that just because of their love of books, they can turn paper into weapons and whatever else they please, but each having their speciality. Nenene finds out they‘re paper sisters just like her friend who ‘s missing, Yomiko Readman and asks them for help finding her. They try to help Nenene find her friend, while solving other cases and saving the world with the power of paper.

4. Baccano(2007)

Probably the most well known but also I think one of the most under appreciated Anime, from Durarara’s creator, Baccano. I feel like most newer Anime fans won’t know this one and although it’s a beloved series by many, I still feel it’s underrated. Also another bias opinion shocker, it’s one of my absolute favorites but that’s why it’s here. It’s once again a shorter anime with only 13 episodes but it somehow manages to combine all of the storylines cohesively, it’s a wild ride full of mystery, murder, and magic that will keep you on board the entire time trying to piece everything together. Also warning it jumps around a lot so make sure to pay attention everything pieces together!.

Based in the 1930’s in the prohibition era you have several stories involving different characters going on but they‘re all connected to one thing the transcontinental train, the flying pussyfoot. Yes that’s actually the name of the train, why, still no idea but all these characters from different walks of life end up here somehow. Now to introduce some of these crazy characters, first off the goofy thieves in love Isaac and Miria, who aren’t the brightest but can steal just about anything. Lad Russo the sadistic hit man who loves to see people die, including fantasizing about killing his fiancé one day. Then you have the ones involved in gangs, all In different ones, but nonetheless involved in some sort of crime. First there’s Firo, the youngest of the Martello family and one of the immortals in the show, then there’s Jacuzzi Splot and his partner Nice, Jacuzzi is a big wimp and crybaby but will protect his loved ones with all he’s got and Nice is a bomb expert and his childhood food. Those are some of the main characters it’s such a large cast it’s hard to name and explain them all. This one is a must watch especially if you liked Durarara, jump on the hype train of this wild show.

5. Black Cat (2005)

Now quick disclaimer before I begin talking about this one, I haven’t watched this in years so it may not hold up as well as I’m remembering but when I watched it I really enjoyed it so that’s why it’s here. This was one of the earlier Anime I watched I’m pretty sure my friend showed me it but it caught my interest from the beginning. It’s not the most groundbreaking show to exist and I’ve heard that the manga is apparently better but that’s for almost every show. It’s got cool action, funny moments and a great cast of characters, plus not gonna lie I had a crush on train when I was younger. its just a fun show and definitely worth giving a watch!

Train Heartnett is an infamous cold blooded assassin who works for the organization Chronos, and because of his lack of empathy for killing he’s named Black Cat. But after a chance encounter with a bou hunter named Saya Minatsuki, they become friends and Train decided he wants to leave Chronos to pursue an honest living as a bounty Hunter. However chronos and particular his fellow member Creed Diskenth are not pleased with this and try to get Train to rejoin Chronos. Along the way Train teams up with fellow bounty hunter on the brink of broke Sven, the bio mech weapon and little girl Eve and master thief and seductress Rinslet Walker. Together they try to escape from Chronos and get enough money for their next .

6. Arakawa Under The Bridge(2010)

Where do I begin with this one first off, this is one of the weirdest Anime I’ve ever seen but just like Azumanga Daioh that’s what make it so good. Beautifully animated by Studio Shaft with some of the most colorful and visually appealing animation I’ve seen, it’s pure eye candy. it’s equally as strange as it is hilarious and it’s just a fun time that’s not meant to be taken seriously. So if you want a good laugh and something thats truly one of a kind in story and characters give this crazy show a shot.

The show begins with one of our main characters Kou Ichinomiya getting stuck by his underwear on a bridge by some kids, he falls into the river and is saved by a mysterious girl. Kou is the son of a wealthy businessman and his life motto is to not be indebted to anyone, so when he’s saved by this girl he asks what he can do. He finds out that her name is Nino and what she wants is to fall in love, so she asks Kou to be her boyfriend. At first Nino seems like a regular girl but she claims to be an alien from Venus and lives in a box under the bridge, not wanting to be in debt Kou agrees and begins living under the bridge with Nino. However Nino isn’t the only one who lives under the bridge there are many other strange characters like hoshi, the aspiring musician who wears a star on his head, and the captain who’s a human in a kappa suit. I highly suggest watching this strange sci-fi romantic comedy for something different and fun to watch.

7. 91 Days (2016)

The newest Anime on this list so far, see I told you it wouldn’t be only old ones!, this is also the darkest Anime on this list so far. This has been highly overlooked since it’s release in 2016, it reminds me of baccano and in parts like death note. If you like mafia movies or just a dark gritty story with some light hearted moments, it s short show but nothing is rushed and it’s solid from front to back and keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Just like Baccano, 91 Days takes place in the prohibition era in a town called Lawless where crime is rampant and illegal alcohol sales are thriving. In this town our protagonist Aviicio‘s family is killed by one of the mafia families, The Vanetti Family. He receives a mysterious anonymous letter telling him to return to lawless to infiltrate The Vanetti Family. He tries to befriend the families son Nero, to find an opportunity for revenge, the story keep you constantly guessing if they’ve truly become friends or if he’ll kill him. Please watch this wonderful mafia crime drama of friend vs foe.

8. Yamada Kun and The Seven Witches (2015)

This is one of the ones that I still really want to read the manga for because I just couldn’t get enough of it! i’m still hoping for a sequel one day! The premise of body swapping has been done many times in Anime and cinema as a whole but this one adds a unique enough of a twist to keep it fresh and interesting. I looked forward to watching this weekly each week meeting a learning about each new witch and learning what power they had.

Ryuu Yamada is a high school delinquent who wants a fresh start at a new school, despite the intention to start with a clean slate he soon falls into old habits of laziness and getting into fights. One day he trips on the stairs which leads to an accidental kiss with fellow student Urarara Shiraishi which causes them to switch bodies. Another student Toranosuke Miyamura learns that they can switch bodies and recruits them to his Supernatural Studies club. There they learn about the other seven witches that all have different powers

9. Arslan Senki (2015-2016)

The second to last of the list comes from the creator of my all time favorite Anime Fullmetal Alchemist, while it’s a very different series and not quite as good as FMA it’s still deserves a spot on this list and deserves your time. It’s hard not to compare it to FMA but it really is it’s own thing, and it actually came out before Fullmetal, it’s a historical drama about war and strategy and a character growing into his potential. Just as Hiromu Arakawa is known for there’s still some comedic moments and some great character development and a well done story, Plus if you like this there’s two seasons so there more to enjoy.

Ok I promise from this point forward I won‘t say anything more about Fullmetal Alchemist this is about Arslan Senki, here’s the story. In the year 320 the Kingdom of Pars is at war with the neighboring kingdom Lusitania. Pars is ruled by the ruthless king Andrangoras III who has a son who’s the complete opposite of him Arslan. Although he doesn’t know how to fight Arslan tries to prove his worth by joining the battle, but things take a turn for the worst when one of the kings officials betrays him. The once prosperous Kingdom of Pars is seized, and since Arslan is the kings son he must flee to avoid capture. So he sets off with his loyal bodyguard Daryun to find allies to help take back the kingdom. Knowing that Arslan is still alive he is still faced with pursuers from other kingdoms and the head of the Lusitania army, a mysterious man with a silver mask who knows a secret that could jeopardize Arslan‘s succession to the throne. Arslan is a gentle, kind person that doesn’t enjoy fighting, he must learn to fight and protect himself and gain the courage to lead an army to regain his home.

10. Shingeki No Bahamut: Genesis (Rage of Bahamut) (2014)

Leaving one of the best for last, not to be confused with the popular series with a similar name Shingeki no Kyojin(Attack on Titan) this show is just as good. One of the first shows from one of my favorite Anime studios, Studio Mappa. I had low expectations when I heard this was a card game adaptation from a new anime studio but I decided to check it out despite that and it was the best decision. This has all the elements of a great anime, the beautiful animation, the unique characters and the compelling story and all the cool action scenes are just a plus. There is a second season too but I’ll leave that for another time, ok time to stop gushing about this wonderful show, time for the story!.

Years and years ago the ancient powerful dragon Bahamut reeked havoc on Mistarcia, a land where gods and demons lived harmoniously with humans. The gods and demons manage to seal away Bahamut with the god key and agree to split it to keep him sealed. Now that the the peace has been restored we meet the main characters and one of my favorites the orange Afro haired bounty hunters Favaro Leone. Favaro is constantly on the run from his adversary and fellow bounty hunter Kaiser Lidfard who‘s main purpose in life is to get revenge on him. One day both of their lives are thrown into chaos when they meet the mysterious girl Amira who holds half of the god key sealing Bahamut and wants help reaching the land of Helheim. I also can’t forget to mention my other favorite character and the fourth member of this unlikely crew Rita the zombie necromancer little girl she is just the definition of cool. Then there’s the characters that want to steal the god key the demon Azazel and the knight Jean D’Arc who are constantly in the characters way but you’ll find out more about them in the show. These unlikely heroes must face the threat of the battle of gods and demons, the pursuers of the god key and incoming threat of Bahamut awakening.

#anime #anime gif #anime blog #blog #art blog #blog post #new blog #azumanga daioh #manga #baccano #91 days #eden of the east #arakawa under the bridge #black cat #yamada kun to 7 nin no majo #R.O.D the tv #r.o.d #digital art

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dropsofletters · 3 years

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hate everything

— summary: the heir of a fashion brand and a modelling company has nothing to do with a duchess, but xu minghao spends more time in her castle than anyone else she ever knows. perhaps, his presence is so perpetrating that even after falling in love and breaking her heart a thousand times, he stands. she may hate everything, but she doesn’t hate him.

— title: hate everything — pairing: xu minghao x reader (ft. joshua hong) — genre: heir!au ; duchess!au ; royal!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; slowburn!au — type: angst ; fluff ; romance ; drama ; suggestive ; humor (with a happy ending though!) — word count: 25,984

December 17th. Five years ago.

To wear a dress is a tradition. No matter how harshly the fabric tightens around her ribcage, or how badly her legs ache whenever she has to bend over and place another faux kiss on a person’s cheek. To have something as expensive as the cloths that drape over her should be a blessing, the quartz pink lace of her sleeves falling off her shoulders, a corset placed on her waist to become an image to look at—a product, maybe. The skirt leaves more to the imagination, flared and eccentric, and she’s starting to wonder if someone would realize if she only slipped away from these hells that should’ve been crafted in Hell—

Royals are used to this. The children of those enigmatic individuals train the entirety of their lives to be three things: charismatic, beautiful…and fake, overall. One would know when she’s an outsider; part of it but also a branch of the many more important people in her family-line. Therefore, her Father being a Duke and his daughters becoming, inherently, Duchesses of their own shouldn’t be of higher importance than anyone else in this goddamned party, but they are. Because, over everything, they are there for something—to be coquettish and courted, find a man of wealth of the highest society to decide either of them is worth their time.

She pushes her chest forward when her Mother steals a glance at her, quirking an eyebrow in the process, silently telling her to act like a lady. Maybe, Princesses are used to this, but she’s not quite ready to call herself anything remotely close to that. Instead, she brings her cup of lemon water up her mouth, opening her lips a bit wider so her immaculate lipstick doesn’t get ruined and scrunches up her nose as delicately as possible in the process. The children’s table is filled with snacks and sodas, and she can’t help but feel envious of such exquisiteness.

The high ceilings showcase twirls of gold and blue, curling onto themselves to give the view of a wider space. Instead, the white and champagne walls are covered in pictures of the real Royals. Her family, though not as close, definitely more wealthy and more important than she is, mingling and chatting as if it’s their job. It probably is. Some people stay at the center, dancing with glee, finding more people to talk to, all of status. Not that she does anything other than stay seated on her designated table and let her sister do her job.

Socialize, in this case.

Socialize and find some connection that will leave her family in a better position.

She breathes in softly, her fingertips playing with the itchy fabric of her skirt, feeling the strands of her hair start to hurt against her scalp after holding up such hairstyle for so long. This is not who she is, but it’s who she is designated to be. Normality has not been set for her, neither has fame made its way towards her. She is nothing more than just another dot in a world where she doesn’t quite fit in—Royal, but never a known Royal. It’s up to her to make herself become a paragraph, more than the simplistic end of a sentence.

When she feels the presence of someone behind her, she doesn’t think much. Around five hundred people, if not more, have attended the main castle’s grand event and, of course, there is not of space left. But when a soft breath mingles on the back of her neck and a manly scent, almost musky, makes its way through her nostrils, she realizes whoever this man is has decided to get close to her specifically.

“Why aren’t you enjoying yourself?” There it is, that voice, dulcet, soft, breathy into the air as he tries to whisper only to her over the music. It reminds her of words written on the back of her notebooks in high school and crushes that were destroyed by the imminent existence of graduation. The schools she attended to, since the beginning of her life, had been considered the best of the best but the only good thing she remembers is—

“Joshua.” The name comes to her easily, and she doesn’t even have to turn around to see one of the many Princes of a land not too far away from hers. Well, not hers—her family’s, or something of the like. Joshua is, technically, perhaps the fifth in line if he were to ever reach the throne, and he spends most of his time out of his small land than doing Royal work. “What are you doing here?”

Joshua holds a glass of what seems to be wine on his right hand, his brown hair pushed away from his youthful face. Only twenty and looking like he owns the world, and perhaps, he does. A fitted suit falls on his slim body, his waist accentuated, the back of the jacket trailing a bit downwards, its rich black color contrasting well with his olive skin. His eyes fold romantically at the same time his lips curve onto a smile. “Hi.” He says first. “Well, uh, I was invited? Isn’t that the only reason why I would be here?”

“I haven’t seen any of your brothers here.” And most people would say that they don’t know the names of all the Hong brothers, but she does. It comes with the number of times she has spent keeping her sighs locked in front of Joshua, a daydream that has been unattainable for the entirety of her life. “That’s—I figured you wouldn’t be here.”

“Now I’m here.” Joshua breathes out, taking a sip of his wine. “Why the long face?”

“Ah—” Her hands indeed come grasp at her cheeks, eyes widened as she tries to come up with an excuse. “I don’t really like parties, that’s all.”

The statement has his eyebrows raising, youthful above all. “That’s a big statement.”

“There’s a lot of people here,” She says, hands coming to rest on top of her dress, curling around one another only not to reach out for him. Not that she has ever heard of Joshua being a lover of many girls, but…he has never quite shown signs of wanting to be with her. “And no one really wants to talk to me, so. Also, the drinks…I don’t like them. I’m hungry, too—”

Joshua’s smile transcends into full-on laughter, throwing his head back just as he extends his hand forward. “You just haven’t gone to a good party.” He says, waving his fingers into the air. “Come on, stand up.”

The feeling of his hand sliding into hers feels like the satin covers of her bed, slipping away from her in a rainy morning when the maids ask her to join them for breakfast. When her family is not around and she gets to enjoy the solitude of being both warm and cold. Joshua does as much as interlocking his fingers with hers, and she both wants to smile and die at the same time. “What—? Why?”

“I’m taking you to a good party.” Joshua decides out of the sudden, walking with grace as they move towards the entrance, but she has to stop him at that moment, heels digging onto the tile flooring in a way that almost has her falling.

“J—Joshua…” She chuckles a bit when he looks at her over his shoulder, finishing the last few drops of his wine. “My family is here with me. I just can’t leave like that—”

“Tell your sister to cover up for you.” Joshua says, shrugging his shoulders. “Come on, we both know we’re Royals…but we’re not that important in this event. If we leave now, we still have the rest of the night to enjoy.” His words are calm, like everything he does, never does he look like he fears the world may eat him alive for his actions. “Besides, I’ll make sure to take you home safe and sound.”

One of those opportunities that falls from the sky, graced by heaven, suddenly seem to be covered in a veil of doubt. Her family would love for her to go out with someone of importance like Joshua—but parties aren’t her kind of thing. She has gone to many of them as she has grown up, drained herself of all possible social skills because of how tough it is to try to be liked by everyone. “…Are you sure this is a good party?”

“Listen,” Joshua breathes out, a pout on his lips. “My oldest brother is going to get married in January and my friends want to throw a birthday party for me before I have to go back to my land. That’s all that’s going on.”

“But, your birthday is on December 30th—”

“And I’m leaving on the 21st.” He tugs at her hand then, and maybe, this is enough to tug at her heart strings, as well. “Come on, we haven’t hung out since I graduated and that was almost two years ago.” Knowing how to speak, because someone like Joshua Hong has taken charisma classes since the day he was born, perhaps, he adds: “I’ve missed you. It’s all up to you, of course, no pressure.”

Missing him is something she has done, as well. With every arranged dinner with someone that she doesn’t like, and every moment she spends wrapped in between her blankets watching romantic comedies, in the rare occasion that she exchanges her historical films and enthusiasm for something more of the like of youth. Joshua Hong is someone she met when she entered her teenage years and has become, instead, her longtime dream.

“…Only if you take me home before three in the morning.”

Joshua nods. “I can do that.”

“And if you promise we’ll grab something to eat on the way there.”

“My friends are waiting for me outside. I can ask them go get some drive-through on the way to the mansion we’re hanging out at.” He always has a solution to life, so simplistic and sure of himself, and maybe that’s what drags her closer to her sister, asking her to cover up for her as her heels click against the floor. Now, the least of her worries is how pompous this dress is, but how nice of an opportunity has settled on her lap instead.

Throughout her entire life, she has had a conceptualization of love that feels like a fairytale. If she didn’t get to live the entire fairytale of being a Princess, then she may as well expect to get a Prince in return. The way the wind blew on his hair as he talked to his friends, taking small bites of the fries they shared, his eyes glistening when he looked at her—it all felt like love. The young kind. The one that makes her feel like she only has one more day to live and he’s willing to give it all to her. His jacket rubs her skin when he gets her closer to her, music blasting loudly, and for once, she’s not the daughter of the Duke and Duchess, or another Duchess in that raunchy Royal stance—

She’s just another person in this world.

“…Hey, you okay?” The question breathes in between the two, the limousine able to take up the group of six people. Joshua, however, only seems to have eyes for her. Maybe, it’s that little string of hope that tells her that the butter-like words and the fluttery feeling inside her chest mean something. They have to. “I’m here for you if you need anything, okay? If you want to leave, we will.”

So far, nothing seems to bother her. Instead, she lets him wrap his fingers around hers, sending a hum his way. “I like this. They’re nice.”

“They are.” He conquers, looking out the window once again. Petrichor and a Prince, the sprinkles of the unwelcomed rain now becoming a mere memory. His lips wrap around a tranquil smile when he says: “You’re an adult now. People become nicer as you grow older.”

But that’s not what she has heard the maids at her small castle say. People only grow worst with time, like weeds—they hope someone falls so they can hold onto them. Twenty and ready to bite into the world with expertise, she accepts his words as truth. “I see.” She conquers. “Maybe, I’ll get to know people like that now that I’m going to university.”

“Didn’t you want to go for history in university?” Joshua asks, and she remembers the talks that they used to have when he was a senior in high school.

“That’s the dream.”

“Say: That’s the plan.” Joshua corrects. “If you make it a certainty, you won’t have time to hesitate.”

That may be the key to happiness—not hesitating, not doubting, not blinking twice when a man like that offers her his jacket and holds her hand like he never wants to let go of her. Joshua has become a plan, not a dream. “That’s the plan.” She whispers, earning a chuckle from Joshua.

“Good.”

###

The wicked, Mother used to call them. Those who live their lives for anything other than socializing in the most antique of ways are considered to be outcasts. From Royals, one can only expect utmost beauty—from normal people? The raunchiest. Those go to cheap parties. Those drink horrid alcohol. Those embark in love stories that only last mere months, and drop their secrets out at the appearance of whatever person seems trustworthy enough. Mother always considered people less than her, but she never understood her. Why is it that out of this group of six people she should feel better? Because she doesn’t enjoy a party? Because this mansion is bigger than her own and hence, she has to find something she is better in than the owner of said house?

The son of the owner of the house, Zhang Wei, barely pays attention to the pristine flooring or the worker that trails right behind him to serve him another glass of wine. He’s twenty-one, the oldest of the group, and somehow, so lost in his own world that he doesn’t notice anyone but his own phone. According to Joshua, he’s not as much of a lightweight as others, and the frown perched on his enigmatic and perfectly crafted face comes from the longing of his lover, living seas and seas away from him. Zhang Wei is a sight to look at when he’s seated on the red, leather couch of his living room, the clean wood under his feet looking dirty with how shiny his designer shoes were.

Heejin is the drunkest, as of now, twenty years old just like Joshua, long hair cascading down her back as she insists on holding onto Kyle, one of her closest friends, whose bottle-like glasses make his brown eyes look much smaller. Finally, Seungcheol has lost himself to the karaoke machine nearby, taking the bottle from the worker’s tray to bring it up his lips, taking a nice swig of the alcohol before smiling brightly. Life is good for all of them, so why should she judge?

“Let me help you out,” She doesn’t notice the reason behind Joshua’s words, or why he places his glass of rosy champagne in between her fingertips as he drops to kneel in front of her. His fingers softly glide across the bottom portion of the fabric of her skirt to showcase her feet. “You’ve been fidgeting since we got here. I’m sure Zhang Wei’s sister has a pair of flats that is more comfortable for you.”

“Ah, they were supposed to make my legs look better.” Though, that doesn’t seem to phase him, lifting a thoughtful eyebrow that reminds her of the times she would catch a glimpse of him studying in the school’s library. She’s free from such place as of now, thankfully, for the only memories she wants to keep include Joshua and some history classes in between.

“No one can look at your legs with this cupcake you have for a dress.” He jokes and her laughter rips through her even when Seungcheol’s singing voice covers all sources of it. “Besides,” Joshua starts again, throwing her white shoes somewhere on the wood, clicking obnoxiously. “Your legs are already good as they are.”

It’s in the magic of acceptance that a true gentleman earns a heart. Somehow, Joshua reminds her of the men in the shows her maids watch. Damn, she spends a lot more time with them than she does with her Mother. “You say?”

“I confirm.” Joshua finishes, settling himself down on the seat beside her before taking his cup once again. “Besides, it’s not like I could not notice. You always dress the prettiest for all the events we go to.”

She has to giggle at that. “Thank my stylist.”

“Why do you doll yourself up so much?” Joshua asks, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not like it matters. What other people think of us, that is.”

Oh, and that’s only one of the many things she loves about Joshua. How in syntony and acceptance he seems to be with the fact he’ll never reach the throne. “Mother says we should always look our best. You never know who you’re going to find.”

“Are you looking for someone?” Joshua asks, eyes inspecting her vision, lips wrapping around the glass in a way she wishes would rest upon hers. A first kiss from him would be a symphony to dance to, a bite onto the cleanest of apples. “Like—”

“No.” She replies quickly, interrupting him in the process. “Well, no—ah, not really. Depends…”

Joshua chuckles. “Depends on what?”

“On, well…” On you, Joshua Hong. “Depends on the situation. I’m not looking, rather…waiting.”

“Waiting,” He repeats, a gush of air blowing towards her face straight from his mouth—alcohol in his scent. “Yeah, that sounds like you. You’re the person anyone would love to wait for.”

“Am I?” She asks, trying not to sound impressed. Flirty, she aims to be, but she sounds far more robotic than intended. “Oh, wow.”

A laugh that doesn’t make it out his mouth accompanies his next statement. “Go look for a pair of shoes with Heejin. At this point, we all have to dance to Seungcheol’s singing.”

“Okay, but wait for me, okay?”

The connotations of such sentence only fall on her later, opening her mouth to say something before Joshua smiles widely. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for a while?”

Heejin doesn’t even have to be called by the time she wraps her slim arms around her shoulders, placing her cheek against hers as she speaks loudly. “Ah, I love all of you guys so much.” Her voice trails with the amount of alcohol inside her body, her cheeks tainted in a deep red, her nice profile cold to the touch. “Who are you again?”

She has to give a tight-lipped smile then. “Care to help me find a pair of shoes? My heels were killing me and I need something comfortable.”

“Ah, of course!” Though, even through her drunken hues, her sweet personality comes through and shines a light. “…I know exactly where to find shoes here.”

“Good.” Heejin clings to her hand with glee, moving her to the spacious and curved set of stairs as she throws a glance over her shoulder to look at Joshua. The man, however, simply lifts his hand to greet her, leaving her with a small—

“Have fun.”

She’s meant to be having fun, she reminds herself as she roams the mansion for the third time because Heejin can’t quite concentrate when she is this drunk. She’s meant to be having fun, she says in a low breath, when Heejin opens as many doors as possible until they reach the one that belonged to Zhang Wei’s sister, apparently not there at all. In the faint distance, she can hear Joshua’s voice singing into the microphone, epitome of youth, somehow calling out for her attention because she should be there. Wasting ten minutes of her time with him just for a pair of shoes just doesn’t sound like the best idea.

“Shua never mentioned you. It’s the first time I hear about you.” Heejin says, and she doesn’t know if her words are meant to prick or not, but they do. For someone as important to her as Joshua not to care enough to talk about her hurts. Maybe, this group of people are just not close enough to him, and that’s why he doesn’t talk about her. “Are you a Princess?”

Heejin trudges inside the sky-blue room, bumping onto a few things, dropping her jacket on the bed and she immediately picks it up. They can’t leave anything behind that tells anyone they were there taking shoes, after all. “Ah, no,” She says, following after her towards two huge, white doors. “I’m the daughter of a Duchess. That technically makes me a Duchess, too—”

“So, a Lady.”

“Yes, a Lady.” The doors open gleefully, gates to heaven that welcome a spacious wardrobe. Shelves in pristine white, bathed in bright lights, hold different types of jewelry and shoes, all organized by color and by brand. “What about you?”

Heejin may be surprised about her curiousness, twirling her brown hair in between her fingers after absentmindedly trying to put it up on a ponytail. She fails, too drunk to even do that. “I don’t have a Royal title.” She starts. “None of us besides Joshua do.” But she doesn’t forget to put some penny for her thoughts. “My dad owns four hospitals in different continents. My mom is…I don’t know, I think she’s a fashion designer. I haven’t talked to her in so long.” Though, the champagne in her system must not let her linger on the thought.

“…I see.” She mumbles, a smile on her face. “Ah, and what happened to Zhang Wei’s sister?”

“She’s at university.” Heejin replies, moving away from the walk-in closet and towards the balcony. Opening the doors wider, she now starts to unzip her dress, her eyes widening in the process. What the fuck is this girl on? “Uni…it’s overrated. It wants to make us all feel dumb. I failed my exam—”

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t get naked.” After rushing towards her, she trails the zipper up once again, keeping the red, taut fabric against her body. The harsh breeze of the balcony moves her just as much as Heejin does when she pushes her off her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I want to go for a swim.” Dare she point towards the pool some good meters down that balcony, on the fucking second floor, and definitely with a good space in between its railings and the pool itself. The lights must be catching the attention of her drunken mind. “It’s going to be fun. Come on, I’ve bungee jumped, this is going to be just as easy—”

“Heejin, no.” She says, tugging at the woman’s arms when she leans her weight against the railing. “It’s dangerous. You could fall and—”

“I’m not going to fall. I said I’m a professional—”

“Heejin!” She never raises her voice. The last time she did so, she ended up being told to act like a Lady, anger flaring through the room. This time around, however, fear replaces the highness of her tone. “You could split your head in half. Don’t. I’ll take you to the pool if you want to.”

“I’ve done this before. Don’t be a prude—!” The whine on Heejin’s voice gets more persistent, and even when she pushes Heejin’s back towards her chest to bring her away from the balcony, the young woman’s toned legs flimsily move to push herself away.

“Joshua!” She calls out in a scream, in hopes of having someone support her with whatever the hell Heejin, the now discovered daredevil, wants to do. “I’m calling Joshua and we’ll take you to a swim, just—” More moving around from Heejin, perhaps trying to get away from her grasp. “Joshua! Come help me out here!”

Why is it that he’s gone when she needs him the most? Fear clinging at her throat, heart beating, eyes staring at Heejin as she slips away from her hands and works on taking her dress off again.

“Stop it, Heejin! Get over here!”

The doors of the room open with a harsh bang, thoughts of Joshua listening to her clouding her mind in a second, still battling to keep Heejin’s dress up the woman’s body. Instead, she watches a young man barge into the room. The short strands of his black hair done a mess from the sleep that still lingers on his features, a straight nose and plush lips that accompany somewhat aloof eyes, that only manage to widen a fraction when he watches Heejin on the balcony, using only one hand to tug at her wrist and bring her inside the room.

“I was trying to sleep and you were being loud, Heejin.” The soft timbre of his voice is surprising, the black t-shirt on his body reaching his hips, the rest of his legs covered in pajama pants in plaid figures. He must know Heejin far better than she does. “What did you think you were doing?”

Heejin stares at the man in front of her when he sits her down on the soft, almost cloud-like mattress, bringing one hand up before waving it across his face. “Minghao, I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”

“It’s been a year since I started living here, Heejin. Use another excuse.” The man says, putting down Heejin’s hand with a soft touch before turning to look at her. “She was causing you trouble?”

“She was trying to throw herself into the pool from the balcony.” She says, well aware that it sounds like an atrocity, but she can’t bring herself to say anything but the truth. Her fingers twirl against one another under the weight of his watchful gaze. “I’m sorry we woke you up.”

“…You better.” He breathes out, though the initial annoyance of his entrance seems to be dissipating. “I’ll make her something to eat and then, I’ll ask Zhang Wei to take her home. If he’s not too drunk.” Minghao seems to be deep in thought at that, shaking his head in the process. “Who am I kidding? I’ll call a cab.”

“Okay.” She adds, a small smile on her features as she moves towards the door, shoeless, with her hair done a mess, and with the sleeves of her dress somewhat disorganized after so much tugging and pulling with Heejin. “I’ll go look for Joshua and ask me to take me home.” Though, she stops herself, turning around to look at Minghao. “Wait, why should I leave Heejin with you? I don’t even know you…”

“…I’m Zhang Wei’s cousin.” Minghao indicates, asking Heejin to stand up soon after before walking behind her, as if dragging her away from the room. Though, what surprises her the most when the door closes behind all three of them is that he manages to say her sister’s name, quirking an eyebrow in the process. “Yeah, you both look alike.”

With Minghao walking in front of her with more certainty, definitely knowing this mansion like the palm of his hand, she stutters out an answer. “And how do you know my sister?”

“I’m good friends with her.”

“I have never seen you with her.” She retorts, not quite trusting how knowledgeable this man seems to be about everything. Even Heejin grew quiet when around him, following after his every step.

“Your sister says you’re not around much.” She can’t deny that, either. For her, she’s always being prepared to find someone that betters her title—and that takes a lot of socializing and going around with her parents. “Shouldn’t I be the one who is suspicious about you? You were inside my cousin’s room and I don’t even know you.”

“I came here with Joshua and Heejin was looking for something there.” She excuses herself, leaving out the obvious—she was there to look for shoes, and Minghao may have not noticed just because of the length of her dress.

Just when they reach the bottom of the stairs, she expects to see Joshua already there—at the edge of his seat, ready to know what happened. Instead, he’s laying back on one of the many couches in the living room, his glass on one hand and his phone on the other, avidly talking to someone in a low tone, even over the music.

“Tell you something,” Minghao instructs, taking this time to show some expression on his youthful, innocent face. He may be eighteen or nineteen at most. “I’ll call a cab for you two, as well, and you’re going to go home. It’s late and you’re too drunk. This can only go wrong.”

She thinks about it for a moment, and she crosses her arms over her chest when she calls out for— “Joshua!”

The man pushes his phone away from his ear, smiling softly when he asks: “Yes?”

“I want to leave.”

“We were going to an after-party, though—”

“I want to leave.” Something of the like of pride flashes through Minghao’s face when he takes his phone in between his hands.

Joshua breathes out softly, blinking at her as if he’s trying to study her, before saying something on the phone and hanging up. She’ll never know who he was calling. “Okay, we’re leaving. There’s no need to get harsh.”

With one arm around her shoulder and a kiss to her temple, she figures out she forgives him for not appearing at the balcony.

Because Joshua is that. A silent conversation in a cab as he texts someone for an after-party, mainly because he wants to enjoy his youth as it barely begins. He’s the promises he breathes out, the words that he says, the comfort that comes with being with him—because he’s known, and he’ll always be. One day, he could even be her home. It leads to nothing, as of now, but something about this night tells her that the quietness in between the two will sort into something else. Tranquility, maybe. The tranquility that she has never gotten in that castle she lives in.

His fingertips trail down her arm when he presses one last kiss to her cheek, opening the door to the cab and getting back inside after she stands in front of the castle. The fountain by the entrance welcomes her as quickly as the guards do, and she can’t look at Joshua without needing to go back with him. Instead, she stares at the time in her phone.

Three in the morning.

Three in the morning and she watches Joshua leave to another party, and the Duke’s car parking out and way from the castle. Once again, she’s left in solitude—it’s in her blood to wait for people to arrive to her, for her nights to be filled with the questioning of what could have been. What’s not enough, and what does not meet the expectation of those around her, for them to always want something else.

It’s three in the morning when she gives a smile to the guards, trying to forget the feeling of the concrete under her bare feet, and once again, she’s greeted with the usual. A compliment on her liveliness, even at such a time.

It’s three in the morning and she’s lying.

###

August 3rd. Three years ago.

Dinners always go like this.

First, a sip of the richest drink. Fruit directly from mother nature, crafted by the hands of those who work for her.

Lips moistened, the fork and knife cut through whatever is served. In the rare occasion her Mother is not looking at her, she mixes the vegetables with the main course, adds a bit more of sauce. She lets herself enjoy it at those times.

Two chews, slow, steady, and she nods at whatever the Duchess says. The table is long enough for her to feel like she’s miles away—in this family, it always feels like that.

When she swallows, she always tries to look for a middle ground, something that doesn’t make the food go up her esophagus out of nervousness. When her eyes connect with her sister’s, she finds it. The only person in that entire table that knows her well.

Then, it’s inherent. She looks for the Duke, her Father, blocks every thought of her mind that wonders if his long trips and getaways include another family, an affair, or if he’s simply doing his job. Trust earns itself, and it lacks, thereof.

The process repeats itself until her plate is finished and she can excuse herself away from the table.

Her name is called, catching her attention away from the plate underneath her. Tomatoes sliced to perfection are left on the white ceramic when she connects gazes with her mother’s—eyes the same shade as hers, but much colder. “…How’s everything going with Joshua, my love?”

Maybe, her family was never of a higher stance in the Royal timeline because they deserved it. The only way she becomes a loving matter in this castle is when Joshua’s name lingers in between, and she can’t hate him for it. Kisses shared underneath the moonlight sealed their relationship long ago—after that December they saw each other last, and he continuously texted and called her, opting to go visit her on January to make it official. A relationship that most called expected, while she thought of it as a blessing.

Placing the fork and knife down, she interlocks her fingers together, catching a glimpse of her favorite maid and, perhaps, her best friend, Hana, standing a few meters away from her mother. Instead, she decides to answer as simplistically as possible. “We’re doing excellently, Mother.” Though, that much is not a lie. Joshua’s been working on investments to depart, or grow away, from the Royal family, and that has made him spend more time in her land rather than his. “Two years and still going strong, that has to say something.”

“It does not say much.” The Duchess says, extending her gloved hands towards her Father before resting it on top of his extended hand. “It feels like he’s not so sure about you, honey. Your Father asked for my hand after nine months of dating. If a man is sure about what he wants, he’ll make it happen in a second.”

The shots are fired, then. Though young and full with the will to keep up with her duties as a Lady, her Mother aches for more. It’s in the line of women like them—marry someone of importance, and after her relationship with Joshua became serious, all the hopes of marriage fell on her shoulders. Her sister, on the other hand, had managed to go for university…just like the two of them had dreamt of doing. History slipped away from her hands, and she doesn’t think she’s making history of her own.

“Mother,” Her sister says, an eye-roll to her statement. “Just let her be. Not everything has to end with marriage.”

“I—I think…” She stutters, wetting her lips with a bit of the orange juice in front of her. It does nothing to ease her nerves when under the gaze of the Duchess. “I think Joshua and I are fine as we are. We still have to live this part of our lives and marriage is such a serious thing—”

“Love.” Her Mother interrupts, cutting through the air with certainty. “You need to be someone of importance. I’m not going to be here for you forever…and you must find the strength to keep going. Richness. A kingdom. Something. We have given you education, now you must harvest your future.”

Though, she has never thought of her future as one that revolves around a man. It shouldn’t be like that. For, the times that she doesn’t spend with Joshua, she does a lot more than what anyone can see—study in the library, bask herself in books, do some appearances in the local schools to teach about history. The real kind. The kind that teaches people to be kinder, to want to change the world. Their land may be small, but while she is there, they won’t lack the proper information to continue growing as a society.

“Right?” The Duchess asks the Duke, and the man can only hum.

“That Joshua guy…he’s nice, but if he hasn’t asked for your hand in marriage, at least as a promise, I can’t see this going anywhere.” But, what does the Duke know about relationships? He’s barely even here to start with—

“That’s why you should try to be better. Make him notice how good of a wife you could be.” That’s what she has always been—a trophy. Words that are knives and cut right through her. No matter how much she takes in one morning with the stylists to doll herself up, or how precisely she tries to speak, there is always something else to try out. A new posture. A new class. Anything to be able to take a man’s attention. Sometimes, the tip of her tongue itches to just say: fuck that.

“I think he likes me as I am, Mother.” She replies, her hand tightening against the fork and the knife to continue eating. She’s hungry, so she may as well continue biting on her food even if she’s talking with her family. “I don’t have to be better.”

“Then, he’ll leave you.” Her mother says, as if it doesn’t hurt. As if the thought of Joshua just taking his things and going back to his land, for real, doesn’t pierce through her and leaves her breathing ragged, obstinate. “Darling, he’s always going back and forth. Business stuff, sure, but still…in one of those many trips, he’ll find someone he’ll deem better.”

“If he loves me, I’m his only option—”

“Men don’t work like that.” The Duchess spites, though she is quite thankful that she has vegetables inside her mouth, moving softly with her chewing, because she would have inherently said what everyone knows in this castle, even the workers. It’s not men that don’t work like that, it’s your man. “He’ll get bored pretty soon.”

“If that day comes, I’ll move on.”

“And do what?” The Duchess asks. “Recite the entirety of our land’s history to children for the rest of your life? Come on, darling, I taught you better.” But most of the things she learned came from the workers, the maids, the butlers, the people that lingered around her while her family was socializing— “You have to seek for a title. A Prince’s Wife, and he has been making far more money recently—of his own, too. Joshua is the perfect image of the man you have to marry.”

“Can’t we just stop talking about this?” Her sister questions, throwing her napkin on the table. “Really, it’s fucking annoying. She can do what she wants—”

“Language.” The Duke mumbles in between bites of his meal, never once lifting his gaze. Not like he cares. She continues staring at her mother, the woman shrugging her shoulders.

“It’s her choice.” But those words don’t sound like they would come from the Duchess. “But that man is the only man that she has loved, and the only one that has loved her. If she doesn’t get married now, she’s going to lose it all. Richness. Love. Opportunities. I’ll just sit back and watch it happen, then.”

Hana clears her throat, moving towards her side before dragging the plate away from under her gaze. Not that she does much, leaving the fork and knife in the air as she tries to think of who she is. What she has become other than a people pleaser, leaving all thoughts of her dreams behind to live for others— “Lady, you have finished your plate. May I give you another serving?”

She hadn’t even realized, but instead, she stands up. Moving the fabric of her black dress down her thighs, she juts her chin forward. “I’ll eat in the kitchen.” She replies, lowering her gaze when her Mother quirks an eyebrow at her. “May you please ask the chef to make me some mashed potatoes? I’m craving that.”

“Of course, Lady.”

Though, she can’t give more than a few steps behind Hana before she hears her Mother calling out her name. “You’re not leaving like that, are you?”

Sometimes, she likes to believe there is regret in the Duchess’ voice, that something in her strict way of being means that she cares. Probably, she does—cares about the status of her daughters, more often than not squinting her gaze at her slightly younger sister for being…in love with too many people. Instead, she tries to follow after her words, lowering her face the slightest to press a kiss to the crown of her head. Her scent doesn’t feel familiar. “May you have a nice meal, Mother.”

Her heart only feels heavier after those words.

###

September 20th. Three years ago.

His breaths mingle in the oxygen around her, though not clear under the golden lights of the event hall’s bathroom. His chest presses against her back, each muscle curving and contorting to match hers—and it has always been beautiful, how Joshua seems to be made just for her. With his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed to utter perfection, his teeth do wonders on his bottom lip, capturing it until it turns red, only letting go of it when he opens his eyes and pulls away from her, leaving her vacant. His lips flutter against her neck, that spot that he knows makes her ticklish, but somehow always slips his mind.

Joshua, over everything, prides himself on how good he is at hiding. Living a normal life while being a Prince comes easily for him—never once missing the opportunity to be young and free. With the mirror right in front of them, she tries to remind herself that she is a Lady. Golden, creamy dress falling off her shoulders, the see-through sleeves loose yet tightening around her wrists, small dots littering around the fabric. Her boyfriend pulls the skirt down after he zips himself, up, as if that does something to hide the fact that her hair is done a mess, her pink lipstick has suddenly disappeared (if she doesn’t count the remaining bits on her chin), and there is the tiniest layer of sweat on her forehead when she clears her throat.

The image on that mirror is of a woman sedated by a physical connection. Not of a Lady, per say. Not of the conceptualization that the castle has given her.

And she loves it.

It was not something she had done—afraid that someone would walk in, too much of a pillow princess for her to ever think about even doing anything outside of the bedroom, but trying it out just came to her head. There, in Joshua’s land, visiting a ball and not being the center of attention of people’s judgement, the thought of conversations they had in the past slipped inside her head and she ended up dragging him to the nearest bathroom. For a moment, Joshua seems to be happy, arms wrapping around her waist as she does quick wonders on her purse to grab her lipstick.

“…The best part is that I had to listen to Chopin as I did that.” The joke appears in between them as a whisper and she can’t help but chuckle, taking the tube of lipstick and smearing a bit across her lips.

“Nothing sexier than Chopin.” She speaks out, not quite remembering the moment that said piano expert’s music played from the ball on itself. Whatever. Instead, she concentrates on making herself look more presentable. “But we have another issue at hand.”

“What?” Joshua asks, chin pressed to her shoulder as he stares at her. With time, he has only gotten better—eyes more profound, lips rosier, voice more of a lullaby than anything.

“You need to stop doing this.” She instructs, lifting her upper lip the slightest to show bite-marks, the most subtle of darkening spots that come from the deepest of his kisses. “It’s hard to hide and it’s embarrassing because anyone could notice.”

“It’s not noticeable.” Joshua conquers, a pout to his voice. He pulls away the slightest then, fixing the collar of his shirt, silence falling in between them until he frowns deeply. “Babe, what the fuck?”

Annoyance lingers on his tone, and she has to look over her shoulder to see what bothers him. One glance at his face says nothing, his neck is not littered in hickeys—for, she is not much of a fan of marking him in any way. Lower, she realizes what the issue is, her pink lipstick ended up on one portion of his white button down. “Oh shit, sorry.” That’s all she can manage to say, but Joshua sighs instead.

“This is an expensive shirt, babe.”

She has to roll her eyes at this. “Everything you own is expensive, Shua. I’m sure it’s fine—”

“I have to talk to some investors in, like, twenty minutes. This is not a good look.” One last glide of her lipstick should be enough, she tells herself, sparing Joshua a look over her shoulder before sighing.

He wasn’t saying that when they got to this bathroom ten minutes ago. “I already said sorry,” She starts. “Besides, we have water here. We can just pat it out and see what happens—”

A smile appears on his features when she opens the water faucet, droplets cascading in a rapid motion before he closes the tab again. “Babe, this is a Louis Vuitton.”

She quirks an eyebrow then. “And you’re Joshua Hong. They’re just names, what’s the matter?”

“You don’t just pour water on it.”

Though, she has spent enough time with the maids to know the basics about washing clothes or taking a stain out in a rush. “Joshua, how do you think they wash clothes? With water—”

“I’m sure it��ll only ruin it more. Like, drag the stain or something.” Joshua replies, always thinking ahead of himself as he closes the buttons of his golden jacket, staring at himself in the mirror. He fixes the strands of his black hair that had fallen out of place in his forehead before clearing his throat. “I’m sure that would do.”

He’s not wrong, but— “Then, why start that whole drama about your Louis Vuitton shirt?”

“It wasn’t drama.” Joshua whispers, turning to look at her before running his hands over her arms, her legs trying to regain their composure to walk in those high heels. “I just—I’m very nervous, okay? I’ve been doing well with my investments, but it’s the first time I try to invest in something that isn’t music related.”

She lets him touch her, because there is something magical about Joshua. Knowing that he was a first—that she was lucky enough to get the person she liked on the long run, maybe the comfort and familiarity of him. Joshua spends days in his land and days in hers, basks in her presence in both sides, makes it known that he is trying to secure his future, build an empire for himself. Not a single minute goes by without the man thinking what to do next. He’s always had it together.

Crossing one leg over the other, she grasps his face in both of her hands, inspecting who should be hers. What, sometimes, he calls hers. Why is it that the name itself seems to sound lovely to her but doesn’t fit him at all? Joshua Hong is not hers. He is inherently his.

“You always do great.” She whispers, one step forward before meeting her lips with his. Kissing him always feels passionate, like he can’t get enough of her—but time passes too quickly when he does. Rushed, he is, eager to taste more, to have more. For someone as quiet and posh as him, Joshua knows what he wants. When she pulls away, breath taken away, she hears the soft lull of the piano outside. “Besides, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ve gone over what you were going to say a bunch of times and you’ve met up with them before. This is only the last step.”

“The last step is always the hardest.”

“But whatever the outcome is, you can always say you tried.”

Joshua opens the door to the bathroom then, the apples of his cheeks lifted when he asks: “Since when did you become so wise?”

Maybe, the words of the Duchess had gotten to live inside her head—what if Joshua did not feel the same as her? What if all those kisses, nights of passion, comfort, were only livelihoods for him? Ways to spend time in her land? Ways to feel like he has a home to go to even when he’s always around, from lands to countries. “I don’t know. History books make you sound posh sometimes.”

“Remind me to start the habit of reading.”

He always says the same thing, a resolution of each year they’ve spent together—but it never happens.

The public loves them. They adore the way Joshua seems to shield her from any eyes with a hand around her waist, or how he seems to take care of her utmost necessities—if her glass is empty, or if she’s hungry. What they don’t know is that this is not the realistic version of them. It’s the happy one—that one that bathes in longing after not seeing each other for an extended period of time, the happy couple that is not so happy because they avoid arguments at all cost. They don’t know that she’s wary of the eyes that linger on him or the way he talks about his life as immaculate. He hasn’t gone back to his castle in years. There is a part of him that doesn’t speak about the heartbreak that came with knowing he was last in line when it came to being a possible King.

He never talks about that. Closed-off. Perhaps, masking it as something he’d rather ignore. Joshua likes covering it up with a veil and let it dust, while she loves talking about her utmost feelings whenever she can. Hana, for example, is an excellent listener as well as a storyteller.

She wishes she had a better dress by the time they get to the center of the room to dance, burgundy walls and brown tiles, gliding against her heels and leaving her legs to touch the coldness of the atmosphere surrounding them. Something longer, perhaps, to feel like a Princess when Joshua is looking directly into her eyes. He smiles then, pulling her closer to whisper something onto her ear.

“Hey, you’re stepping on me.” He says, a chuckle following after his statement before pulling away the slightest. “Skipped those dancing classes, didn’t you?”

“You’re just invading my space, that’s all.” She replies, a bit of embarrassment in her tone when she pinches his shoulder. “Stop talking like that. You’re also not Prince Junhui from the eastern lands.”

He shrugs, something that irks her endlessly. What’s with this overconfidence tonight? “It doesn’t matter.” He conquers, looking down at his feet after. “Try not to ruin my shoes, too, okay?”

“Shua!” She yells in a whisper, eyes widened. “You’re being an ass right now.”

But, as per usual, Joshua gives her one of his enchanting smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips that sneaks a few gasps and sighs of content from the couples watching them. One of the most gorgeous and awaited lovers for the night. “You know I’m just joking,” Though, sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. “And I love you just as you are.”

“I love you, too.” She tells him, a flutter to her chest, but why is it always hard to believe him?

###

September 25th. Three years ago.

“My Lady!”

Hana’s dulcet voice has aged with time, she realizes, a tad different from the unrestrictive strength of her energetic self twenty-something years ago, when she was assessed as her maid and protector. She’s a little bit over her fifties as of now, her short hair bouncing with each step she takes towards her, the length of her black skirt making it difficult for her to walk through the green fields at the entrance of her castle. With wrinkles covering her features and a thin layer of sweat living on the bridge of her nose, her eyelids and her neck, she realizes one thing.

Or two, rather.

One, she really missed home.

Two, she really missed her mom—Hana. The only woman that had grown alongside her, heard about her crush on Joshua when she was a teenager, gave her advice when she went on her first date, and would click her tongue whenever she spoke about some of the issues they had and pushed to the very back not to be talked about.

“Hana!” She breathes out, letting her luggage fall down on the floor to be taken by the butlers, arms extending to encage the taller woman in between her grasp, basking on the familiar scent of oil from the kitchen. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Though, the woman pushes her weight away from her, a mocking smile on her rounded features. “Ah, I doubt it. You were with your boy, the apple of your eye, Prince Joshua.”

“The love is different.” With one arm around her shoulder, she starts to walk forward. “How have things been in the castle?”

“Pretty dull without you, actually.” Hana includes, lowering her body when a few branches come across their way. She rests her hand on Hana’s head, just in case, aware of how important this woman is for her. Not a single line shall shatter the vase of stone that is Hana, fundamental to anything she does. “Though, we have had visitors to keep us entertained while you were gone.”

Some days that she is not unhappy about missing, actually. “Visitors? What were they this time?” She prompts. “Another businessman? Are we talking aristocrats or—?”

“An heir, actually.”

“Like Joshua?”

Hana hisses through her crooked teeth, licking something on the inside of her cheek in a way that brings a smile up her features. They are getting closer to the park by the side of their little castle, perched there for the two sisters to enjoy while they were younger—thus, nowadays used for the gossiping and chattering needed to coexist in such a harsh world like this. “Not to make you feel bad, my Lady, but I would not compare this young man to Prince Joshua. I don’t make the choices in your life, but Prince Joshua is as bland as the chef’s chicken water after he washes the meat.”

For a second, she tries to think how others would. What about Joshua Hong seems to be bland? His lack of expression, perhaps, his preparation, the way he always seems to fit in with everyone. If a lot of people like him, that must be that Hana is on the wrong.

“He is not bland.” She says, letting her dress trail on the green grass, not caring if the fabric gets stained. “Mind you.”

“Oh, I am minding me.” Hana says, moving her neck slightly as she lets go of her. “There is nothing substantial about the man is all I’m saying.”

“Why?”

“Darlin’, I know you love him…” The maid says, twirling her fingers around the necklace that rests on her sternum, all the angles of her body highlighted by the action. “But I have this little patting, bickering bird on the top of my head that gives me the feeling that he’s not the love of your life…and you’ve given up so much for him.”

Rather, she has given up a lot for everyone. Mother was over the moon the moment she confirmed her relationship with Joshua, fingers threaded with his, promises made a reality. Father? He didn’t care much—said what he had to say, only to leave. Education be forgotten for the duties of a Lady, for becoming the perfect example of what the real Royal family should have been like. That meant that her dreams of studying history went down the drain, replaced by endless hours of eternal love for Joshua Hong.

Sometimes, it is tiring.

Tiring to a plus-one.

To be the woman of a man. Someone’s someone.

She lets it go. If she has to be someone’s, she’d rather be his.

“That’s what I always tell her.”

The sound of her sister speaking to her has her perking up, a smile appearing on her features to cloud any moment of rainy thoughts that translated onto her face. Eyebrows well raised, shoulders way back, she extends her hands to grasp her sister in her hold, only to be met by crossed arms and a strong frown.

“And it fucking disgusts me that we planned on going to university together and now I see her beyond happy for spending some days with her long-distance boyfriend.”

She spits it out as if it is venom, as if every meter that separates Joshua and her physically have becoming everything and the factor of their issues. “I’m sorry,” She puts her hands down, a bit of a bite on her tone. “I hate that I have been pushed to be like this, but this is what I was meant to do—”

“S—Since when going after a man is what you have to do?!” Her sister asks, the wind moving the flowers on her dress as she steps forward, fingers curling around the air like a vice, a threat to their conversation. “I expected you to come here having broken up with that asshole!”

“He isn’t mean to you, why call him an asshole?” Born under different circumstances, her sister never waited a second to speak back. She always thought of her as the light of her days because of that—a word would never go unspoken by her. However, this time around, it hurts. Expected romanticism has translated into real love, what was once looking for a man has now become expecting for him to come back.

It’s devastating for her sister, apparently. “Because he took my sister away.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here.”

“Barely.” Her younger sister spits out, curling an eyebrow on her forehead. “What is it about you right now that connects to your old self? You spend every given second trying to follow after Mother’s awful rules of marriage and it’s starting to look pathetic.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” One step forward has Hana grasping her by the forearm, but she tugs at her. “I’m your older sister, I get to make my decisions without having you question me as if I’m some fucking child.” She spits out, looking up and down her sister’s features before the woman scoffs.

“And what? Are you an example for me?” She asks. “You’re nothing like an older sister anymore. It’s about time you wake up and realize the world is not going to change for the better if you marry a man just because you have to.”

“Who said we’re getting married? He hasn’t even asked—”

“Has he talked about it?” Her sister asks, only to have her shaking her head.

“I don’t see why—”

“Has he talked about the future with you? The longtime future when his cheeks are saggy, his hands are wrinkly, his voice can’t sound the same—?” She stops, jutting her chin forward to further emphasize her words. “Has he?!”

Her chest heaves up and down, trying to recoil in a memory that doesn’t exist. Joshua has never talked about such thing. He doesn’t even know if he wants to get married or not.

If I ever get married, he has said.

It has never been: if we ever get married…

When we get married? No.

“No.” The answer rips through her throat in a way that makes her ache, though her tone is soft. Her sister smiles sadly then, flaws pointed out to her when she shakes her head.

“Then, he’ll never ask.”

“Give your sister a break, she just arrived here.”

That voice sounds oddly familiar, but the time in her head doesn’t go back to the time it sounded against her eardrums until she looks up at the man that pulls her sister away from her. The oxygen goes back to her lungs, only to be stolen by him—wavy black hair curling against his forehead, straight eyebrows and monotone eyes still looking breathtaking on him. Something about the guy that saved Heejin, Xu Minghao, as tranquil as ever, relaxes her on the spot, beauty beyond what transcends through him…but in the lake that patters each drop to create him, mellow and peaceful.

His jacket moves with him, black as coffee, his oversized white button down on his chest making him look more elegant. Since the last time she saw him, perhaps hanging out with her sister like he always does as her best friend, he has grown quite a bit.

“Minghao, you’re a guy.” Her sister says, turning to look at her friend, much taller than her. “A man will make plans with you only if he wants to keep you long time, true or false?”

Minghao keeps his straight expression, though a glint of pity appears on his irises when he interlocks his hands behind his back. “Ah…I’d say true.” An answer from a man has her heart dropping to the floor. Not that she wanted to get married right now…but knowing that Joshua did not even consider an option, according to popular opinion, made her feel undesirable. "But, then again, that shouldn’t be something to criticize her for. Every sailor decides which ship they want to sail."

At times, she wonders if the ship that has already sailed will make her happy. “He is right.” She includes, finally connecting her gaze with Minghao’s when he turns to her. “Thank you, Minghao.”

“Just…this is none of my business,” He raises his hands in the air momentarily, letting them drop to his side in a gracefully dance. “Be careful.”

His cousin is good friends with Joshua, and the sentence alone scratches at the insecurity inside of her. “Why should I?” She asks, trying to keep levelled, though her eyes feel like they’re permanently blinking under the weight of her tears.

“Sometimes, when a man doesn’t express a lot of emotions is because he doesn’t actually feel them. It’s the same for both men and women—overthinking is just too much thinking at times.” The advice rushes through his lips, though his voice is calm. One step forward brings him closer to her, pulling the sleeves of her dress down to keep her warmer, fingers barely skimming over her skin in a way that has her looking down at the connection in between the two. “Welcome back, Lady.”

She breathes out her name, looking into his eyes in the process. “You never call me Lady.”

“Maybe, I’ll call you Princess one of these days.” Minghao retorts, a shrug coming after. “Does it change you as a person? Whether you’re a Princess, a Lady, or just plain old you?”

She thinks for a moment, shaking her head. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Then, it isn’t worth it to marry someone just for a title. Or push it, rather.” Minghao finalizes, lowering his face to smile up at her, soft and strong, something so inherently him. Epiphanies, perhaps, made into a person—contradiction over contradiction that complexes him beyond her understanding. She’s an intelligent woman, just not intelligent enough to figure him out. “Come on, a smile?”

His voice is much too soft, and it’s only broken through when her sister scoffs. “Come on, Minghao.” She says, nearing them with dragged steps. “I think I’ve bothered her enough. The smile won’t be real if you get it out of her like that.”

One look at her sister tells her that she’s sorry, but instead of awaiting the moment she says so, she gives a small smile. “I’m here to prove you wrong, aren’t I?” She retorts to the youngest.

“Much to my distaste.” The youngest answers, tugging at her friend’s blazer. “We’re going to study, want to tag along after you’re done unpacking?”

“I’d love to.”

###

October 10th. Three years ago.

He’s out again.

And it’s not the fact that hundreds of people get to see his smile, the brightness of it and how blinding it can become, that has her seated in front of the castle, phone placed in between her fingers, grasping it to her chest as if one simplistic ring of the device could make her feel alive again. It’s not that Joshua has the most beautiful set of eyes she has ever seen—and she has always wondered if they’re emotionless, or he’s just really good at controlling what he feels. That’s not what has her jealous.

It’s not that Joshua always dresses to the nines, loves feeling like he is the most watched man in the room—but never says it. Mighty may be the person that gets Joshua to confess something with much of a reaction, even a surprised gasp. He relishes in keeping levelled, while she feels too much. Another press of the button on her phone tells her that it is twelve at night and Joshua is still out.

He has been out all day.

She counts the texts again. Sent by her? Twenty-three. Sent by him? One.

It was seven in the morning, and Joshua had the audacity to send a picture of himself, sprawled in his bed when he’s here, in the same land as her, one hand covering his forehead, fingers threading through his dark locks, half-closed eyes and a dizzy smile. He said ‘good morning’, and the burn in her stomach told her that she had fallen in love again.

He never answered to her ‘good morning’, her ‘good afternoon’, her ‘hey, you just saw my message, why aren’t you replying?’. The ‘haven’t you eaten?’ that mocks her.

Keep sucking ass, Lady. It looks wonderful on you.

Wealthy enough to throw the phone against the concrete under her, she wishes she had the lack of composure to do so. To feel all the hatred and uselessness that racks like books inside of her, mocks her for being able to stand so much. A boyfriend of years that doesn’t even answer her texts, that had planned going out with his friends upon landing on her land just because he wanted to meet up with them. Now, when he said he’d be with her at seven, he continues to be in some raunchy club with his friends.

Seven is the worst fucking number in the world right now.

Doubts clash against her ribcage when the flimsy fabric of her nightgown clings to her skin. Her hair, less from perfect, suddenly becomes an insecurity. Her eyes. Her nose. Her lips. The way she had let go in comfort for him—in the feeling of acceptance that he had once bathed upon her but now bites her back. What if he’s in that club with one of his friends? What if one of those friends are interested in him?

She swallows thickly, trying not to scream when she hides her face in between her legs, but she does. Harsh enough to be heard by someone, but not someone in the castle. What kind of Duchess is waiting for her boyfriend in front of a castle, dressed and ready to sleep, only to be left behind like some toy?

She grabs the phone again, and types with all the will in the world—

To: Shua.

I deserve better than you.

But she deletes it.

She can’t tell him that.

She doubts him, but questions the jealousy that creeps up on her as well. Maybe, he is just having fun—his world shouldn’t revolve around her.

When she stands up, her mind is only set on grabbing something to eat. Call it a third dinner, perhaps, but she needs to concentrate on something else. The entrance doors of the castle open up for her like magic, all thanks to the guards, as she makes her way towards the kitchen. A good cardio away from her, but the smell of the leftover baked potatoes that lay on her refrigerator calls out for her attention even from meters away.

Though, upon entering the kitchen, someone else has half of his body placed inside the refrigerator, long limbs grabbing something in his hands that he can’t quite decipher. Not her refrigerator, but the one designated for her sister’s food instead—used by her chef, and apparently, by Xu Minghao.

Her body splays against the marble island by the middle of the kitchen, the low yellow lamps making her eyes hurt…or is it that, maybe, Minghao in his university-student form is really a sight to look at? His hair is pushed away from his face, haphazardly in the process, like he didn’t have time to do it. Some glasses rest on the bridge of his nose and the red turtleneck sweater on his body is as bright as the apples that he holds in between his hands. Two on each hand.

“Am I getting robbed by Snow-White?” The question leaves her, though in a badly joked manner, before she could fully think about it. Maneuvering his feet up, Minghao closes the refrigerator’s door with one swift motion before laughing at her words.

“That’s your sister’s fridge, and we have a final tomorrow that I feel like I’m going to fail.” Minghao confesses, putting the apples down on the island before leaning his weight forward. Everything about him feels like a silhouette of what could be in an art museum. “Something about math being part of a business major’s life just doesn’t sit well with me.”

For what she can remember in the times she has seen Minghao and her sister studying together, he is— “You’re excellent at math, though.”

“…I guess.” Minghao says, biting down on his lip. “I’m good at a lot of things, if I do say so myself, but there’s that gut feeling that tells me I’m going to fail.”

“Why so?”

“The professor hates me, for one.” The enigma instructs, extending his palm on the island to draw little circles on the surface. Had his hands always been this pretty? “I told him that one of his equations was wrong and that was all it took for him to have my head on the next test.”

Shaking her thoughts away from Minghao’s hand, she looks up. “But you corrected him, that means you were smarter than him.”

“It means he made a mistake. We all do.” He finalizes, ready to grab the apples on his hands and say his goodbyes until she interrupts him.

“…Do you think we should forgive people just because they make mistakes?” She asks, making Minghao stop on his tracks, his back turned to her as she plays with her hands. “As in, forgive them every time they do?”

“Not always.” Minghao, always one for an answer, debates as he turns around. “Some mistakes are worth standing someone for. Others are just not.”

“What kind of mistakes would you apologize?”

“Forgetting something, for example.” Though, he doesn’t seem to be thinking deeply about it. “Or…if someone accidentally ate something I left on the fridge or something like that. I’m not one to forgive people for deep shit.”

“Conceptualization of deep shit?”

“Mhm, depends.”

“Not everything in life is relative, Minghao.”

“But, oh why, it is!” The heir conquers, looking at her for a second before smiling softly. “What we see is not what we really think it is.”

“And how do I know what it really is?”

“You listen to what your gut says.” He says. “Life is difficult, but we have the answers inside ourselves to make the right decision for us.”

For a moment, she wants to pretend like her gut has always told her Joshua is the right man for her. But, that’s not the truth. The right man didn’t open doors for her, but loved to be with her whenever he could. The right man didn’t spend every single second with her, but made every minute they spent together the reason why she misses him when being with other people. The right man made her feel unique—like that one imperfection on her skin isn’t worth that much thinking from her, or that the curves or lack of in certain places aren’t something to hold onto as if they conceptualize her.

The right man doesn’t spend an entire day not answering to her texts.

The right man chooses to visit his girlfriend first when he has spent weeks without seeing her.

The right man doesn’t leave her standing, on her nightgown, inspected by a man that studies her eyes from too close, shoulders going up and down with each breath before his smile erases and he says—

“This is about Joshua, isn’t it?”

Not having the heart to deny it, she nods. “He hasn’t answered in the entire day.” She admits, hard to say it out loud without feeling judged. By his actions, nonetheless. “…And, well, he did say yesterday he was going out to the beach with his friends from here once he arrived, and that he’d be going to the club after that, but he said he’d be here by seven—”

Minghao’s jaw tightens, placing his hands on her shoulders to make her turn around. “Then, go to bed—”

“What if he comes home?”

“He will not.” Minghao boldly replies for what he thinks of Joshua’s thoughts. “Not only has he stood you up, but he preferred going out with his friends than meeting up with you, his girlfriend, when getting to your land. I think that’s enough for you to go to sleep or cut ties with him immediately.”

That makes her stop on her tracks, no longer moving towards the stairs but instead, thinking about his words. Leaving Joshua, that is. “…I can’t.”

“Can’t you or don’t you want to?”

The question weights her down. Both sound pathetic at this point. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you what it is,” Minghao stands in front of her, fixing the glasses on his face before sighing. “You’re waiting for him to change. That, one day, he’s going to wake up and choose you over the world. You think about all those things that people say about people just needing to go through phases, and you think this is a phase—”

More than anger, disdain bubbles up inside her. “He is young, maybe this is a phase—”

“It’s not.” Minghao says. “He chose them over you. He chose partying over you. That has to say a lot about what he thinks of you.”

“…I guess.”

“Think about it.” The heir concludes his advice with that, putting an apple up to his mouth before giving it a big bite. “I’ll go study. See you later.”

With that, he leaves.

###

October 11th. Three years ago.

She liked delicacy, but that never meant she liked it when people thought she was made out of glass. Invisible, easy to break, easy to taint when breathing against it—she’s strong, even if the hits of life have left a stain on her one too many times. Punches to be taken just for the sake of it.

Let the glass that represents her be broken, at the edges that people managed to ripped but never broke her entirely. Her first friend, a young boy that flew away from the land when he was six, and left her with the memory of him. Her second friend, a young girl when she was nine, that pushed her around to make her feel miniscule—always better than her, prettier than her, smarter than her, with nicer clothes than her. It was over after four years. Then, five years went by of people that were not that good either, always coming back with that sense of hope that told her…one day, the right people will come around.

What if they never did?

Because the right man is standing in front of her at this moment, the smell of lasagna cladding the room and making her feel disgusted. Thick sauce, white and red, with meat. It all deserves to be trashed down, like the rest of the gifts Joshua carried all the way here on his forearms, his face void of any imperfections even when he must have knocked himself out yesterday with as much partying as he did.

The right man, Joshua Hong, has taken a piece of her. That edge that keeps pricking her whenever she passes by, and she never falls asleep like how it happens in fairytales. Needle-deep, it makes her wonder of his whereabouts. Makes her tighten her fists against the fabric of her dress, cross-legged on the bed as she watches him open one bag.

“I brought you something—”

“You never answered.”

Joshua stops then, leaving the plastic white bag on her cream sofa before smiling at her. Once he nears her, seated in front of her, Joshua places both of his arms around her waist, face to face with her. “But you didn’t speak, babe.”

From the moment Hana let him inside her room, just five minutes ago, she had not been able to organize her thoughts. Her guts tell her that there is something inherently wrong with this—with Joshua and how he is acting.

“Not speak?” She breathes out, each word more pointed than the other, looking up at him from a tilted position. “Is my lack of speech really an issue when I texted you like crazy last night? Called you just to see if you were okay and alive or breathing? Is that silence to you?!”

Her voice raises, enough to have Joshua pushing himself away from her, eyes widened when he replies: “Hey, I told you I was going out. That’s not—”

“What kind of boyfriend goes out with his friends when he had not seen his girlfriend for weeks and she’s right there, waiting for him—?” She asks, willing to break at that moment. If Joshua has to smash her body into pieces with one throw of reality at her, she’ll take it. “Really, Joshua? Don’t you have some sense of guilt in you?”

“I was doing business.” Joshua says, always too little, never enough, returning to the packages of gifts before scoffing. “It’s not like I didn’t remember you—”

“What?” She asks, getting closer to the bags on her sofa. “Some gifts are supposed to make me feel better?”

“I guess. I was thinking of you when I bought them.” Never does he lift his tone the slightest, and it irks her.

Placing both hands on her hips, she nods. “I’m at the wrong here, because my boyfriend ignoring me for an entire day and, over that, deciding to make business in a beach and a club is supposed to be a normal fucking thing—!”

Before she could lift his hands to grasp her head, Joshua connects his fingers to her wrists, keeping her in place to look her in the eyes. “Stop it with the dramatics. I don’t have to ask you for permission to go anywhere.”

“Oh yeah, you don’t.” She says, voice inherently low. “But it’s really low of you to prefer that over spending a night with me. An entire day, even.”

His back faces her at that moment, taking the gifts out of their confines as he speaks. “Well, I’m here right now, I don’t know why you don’t settle for that.”

Settle.

When has he ever settled for her?

Instead, she covers her eyes, tugging at her skin in a way that would have had her mother swatting her palms away. She can’t do it right now. “Joshua Hong, listen to yourself for a second. This is unfair for me.”

“Don’t you think I want to see you every day?” He questions, though she can’t see him she feels his lips resting on her momentarily. “I want to see you at every given second of the day…but I have other important things to do.”

Other important things to do.

The worst part is that he says it as if she’s not important.

Though, that’s not true. The worst of it all is when she lets go of her face, vision filled with stairs and blurriness, but mostly the picture of him in front of her, finally, when she says:

“I understand.”

But her gut feeling tells her she doesn’t.

###

April 23rd. One year ago.

The birds chirp freely for an early celebration, sunflowers mingling against her cream dress. Today, the big gowns are changed for something more simplistic—a prideful sister that embarks into a new road of success when looking at her sister graduate. In something that she likes, first and foremost, and definitely as if she was a Princess with the big celebration that Mother prepared. Though, for someone that complained that her youngest studied too much and lacked a man because of that, it surprised her that she had even planned anything at all.

Yesterday was the real event, students gathered together for one last time to close one of their chapters of adulthood. The last one in the educational stance, for those not approaching further education. Her sister preferred something more private then, asking her to tag along with Minghao to have some drinks and talk about life with people with as much power as them, given the university that she goes to, but with less of a stick up their asses. Good was an understatement for how well the night went.

Taking the cherry from her drink, she tosses her head back, relishing on the dulcet taste as the shadows the sun creates on her skin rest on her chest. Dress in the color of cream, off the shoulders, just tight enough to make her look like the adult she is, but loose enough to let her breathe. People mingle by the center, children bustling around, parents talking in between themselves, and Mother making herself the center of attention, even when her youngest sister is by her side.

A lot has changed for her sister. Meanwhile, nothing has for her.

One can only take so much scolding from their parents about not getting married, but like her sister had once said, Joshua is not quite ready. She doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready, but letting go makes a tingle go down her spine—perhaps, one day, he’ll want to. The possibilities are what make her stay, but it’s what makes her doubt the most. Downing the rest of her drink, she tries to think of something else other than the man talking business with some people in the corner, pristine as the day she met him and promised herself that it’d only be a tiny little crush.

“Enjoying yourself?”

The sound of that voice is oddly familiar. She remembers it more slurred yesterday’s night, throwing his gown somewhere on a couch to relish on drinks and good memories. Now, Minghao voices out his thoughts like he normally does, as if he had not been hungover this morning.

Letting the birds do their music when she looks at him, she shakes her head. “My juice is finished. Joshua can’t stop talking business with those men and you…my friend,” She lets her gaze go up and down his body, the sunflower shirt making her smile widely. “Are probably spring made person with that shirt.”

Tugging at the black fabric of his blazer to show the shirt, a few buttons opened to showcase his sharp collarbones and the hint of curved, yet slim pecs, Minghao looks down at himself. “I wanted to look the least professional I could.” He confesses, returning his gaze to her, though a bit squinted because of the harsh sun. “Your boyfriend may be perfect with business talks, but I am not. I can only pretend I am interested in what someone in saying about themselves until I actually tell them straight on that their lives aren’t that important.”

Hiding her laughter behind her glass, she drops the seed of the cherry inside before sighing. “Well, you’re a heir. You were prepared to be a businessman. I think that’s what makes you less interested in that.”

“That and years of studying.” Minghao finishes, taking a bite of a cookie he found on the food table nearby, munching for a few seconds before talking again. “Besides, Joshua has expanded far more than I have. My family owns an haute couture fashion brand and a modelling agency, it’s way different from Joshua’s musical takes.”

And then again, she has always wondered why she has never seen Minghao with some tall, skinny model that hangs on his arm like a beautiful match for him. “I don’t know…” She answers, puckering her lips when looking at Joshua. “At least, you don’t like the socializing but love the fashion aspect of your business. Joshua…he loves socializing with people nowadays, even if he doesn’t speak much. He just has to hang around people.”

“That’s what going out to too many parties does to you.” Minghao says, grabbing another cookie before offering it to her. “Cookie?”

“With chocolate chips?” She asks, already taking it in between her hands before taking a big bite. “I imagine how disturbed those businessmen would be if I went over there to hug Joshua and they’d saw a piece of chocolate on my teeth.”

“Devastated, perhaps.” Minghao says. “I doubt they have ever had a woman actually show themselves naturally to them. No posing. No falseness. Just plain old reality.”

“Do people really show themselves as they are in the business industry, though?” Rhetorical at most, she questions, shaking her head in the process.

“They don’t.” But, something seems to glisten in his eyes. “But you do.”

“Not really—” She tries to defend, heart picking up at the way those brown eyes look at her as if she’s different. “Mother has made my life miserable until I became the perfect image of what she wanted. Well, not really, I am not married yet but—”

“Even so,” Minghao interrupts her. “You may have to go around and throw some pleasantries to other people, but that doesn’t make you faux in any way.”

“It does.”

“No, you’re one of the most genuine people I have ever met.” Those words have her looking at him as he walks backwards, pushing his hair away as he chews on a new cookie. “It just so happens that you think being nice is not a personality trait a person can have, even yourself.”

“Well, I haven’t met a lot of nice people—” And still, she keeps around them.

Minghao, on the other hand, waves his hand in the air. “Nice to meet you, then. I’m Xu Minghao.”

The smile on her face is forever petrified after that.

It must be a pleasure for Joshua’s business associates to see her smile so brightly, his hand placed on her waist as she holds onto his chest for leverage. Perhaps, she loves the way he sees her the most when he is around people—as if he has seen the answers to all his prayers on her very own irises.

This time around, Joshua impresses more than usual. A bowtie, hair pushed away from his face by some gel, and a black suit that leaves everything to the imagination. Nothing quite creative there, just plain old classic that makes him look good enough to desire.

“You two seem to have a great relationship.” One of the businessmen says, his beard practically connecting his chest to his jaw, rounded glasses on the bridge of his nose, wrinkles giving his age away, perhaps making him look older. “I remember when I was like that with my wife. Lots and lots of good times, you know?”

Joshua looks at her chuckling, pleasantries over all, and she stares back as he lets go of her waist. “Well, then we’re lucky, Mr. Kim,” Joshua says. “Because she is going to be my wife soon.”

Her face falls then, just like Joshua’s hand does to search for a box inside his pocket. People around them start to go quieter, watching the movements he does as he opens the velvety box with carefulness.

“J—Joshua—”

Both of her hands come up to her mouth when Joshua shows the ring. Rose gold with one big platinum diamond in the middle, surrounded by medium sized speckles of brightness. She’d count around thirty diamonds, all engraved around the ring that reads his name on the inside.

Her name is breathed out, as if it’s poetry—never one for romanticism, it takes her aback that he has gone back to that breathy tone that once enamored her. He doesn’t drop on one knee, instead pushes the ring halfway into her finger before asking.

“Will you finally become my wife?”

Say no, her guts say, wrenching, wanting nothing more than to run away. The right guy would have never done this—

But the time she has waited for him, the years she has spent liking him and the will to continue with this just for the same of accommodation has her nodding slowly, extending her hand even more to let the ring fully engulf her finger. Fit like a glove.

“Yes, Joshua, of course.” She says, cheers coming soon after when Joshua wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the curve on the bridge of her nose before leaning down to capture her lips in one of those overly-passionate kisses of his.

The last person she sees before closing her eyes to kiss Joshua is Minghao, a tight-lipped yet tranquil smile on his face as he claps slowly. It almost feels like he is saying…

Glad you found the wrong one for you.

###

August 1st. One year ago.

Joshua’s land has always been different to hers.

More up North, this time of the year welcomes its freezing cold, perspiration coming from every window, words tangled by the smoke that leaves people’s lips, and, of course, how to forget the marvelous fog that barely lets her look out of the window to sip on her cup of tea as people rush around to show her yet another color scheme for the wedding.

Greeneries are mostly what she is used to seeing. Not mountains, not hills, definitely not the lack of flowers that has her pushing herself away from the window to look at one of the workers in Joshua’s castle. Upon her visit, the wedding preparations have resumed, and with Joshua somewhere in the castle preparing for a presentation tomorrow, she’s left to make decisions on her own.

“Lady, Lady, Lady!” The overexcited, chirpy, and tall woman with the fringe in front of her moves it away to showcase her color scheme, all tones of the rainbow making her squint her eyes harshly. God, she’s tired of this. “You said you wanted yellow for your wedding.” Of course, because it reminds her of sunflowers, and there has never been a flower more beautiful. Home has sunflowers. Her grandmother’s castle had sunflowers. Hell, sometimes she likes to pluck one inside her hair. “But I need to know which shade you want for the overall theme—”

“Sunflower-toned yellow.” She says, bringing her cup up to her lips only to be met with lukewarm tea. She likes it piping hot, but no one seems to listen to her around this castle.

“So, is that like a toasted yellow?”

“Have you seen a sunflower before, Yerim?”

“Of course.” The older woman says, pushing her hair off her shoulders before looking down at the color scheme. “But are we talking Dead Sunflower-toned yellow or—?”

Okay, fuck this.

“Just—” Raising her hands in the air, she takes one of the many papers that Yerim had displayed. “I want this yellow.”

“That’s not sunflower yellow, My Lady.” Yerim instructs, going after her as she tries to get out of that living room. Not that it should be called that way, each and every single moment of certainty she had to get married to Prince Joshua now seems to die down upon the appearance of the wedding preparations. “That’s pee-colored yellow.”

“…Yerim!” She speaks a little too loud, startling the woman when she places one hand on the railing of the stairs, ready to go up to Joshua’s room and embark in a trip down the sets of history books he keeps in his shelves. “I don’t mind if it’s pee-colored yellow. I just want it to be yellow.”

Yerim puckers up her lips then, perhaps annoyed but unable to say it. “Well…don’t come around and tell me I didn’t tell you when all your invitees tell you your decorations look like pee.”

“I’ll be glad to hear them say it.” The sarcasm drips from her tone, releasing a sigh that has her feeling guilty. The woman is only doing her job, but the doubts of not knowing how this wedding is going to go—or perhaps, that she doesn’t fully believe Joshua is settling down for her, has her fuming internally. “Yerim? Sorry for acting like this. You know better than I do, and I am so thankful with your job.”

“Not to worry, Lady. I dealt with each of the Hong weddings and you have been the kindest.”

Damn, she can’t imagine how the others are. Instead, she decides to give her a soft smile. “I’ll be up in Joshua’s room if you need me.”

“Check his pee and see if that’s the color you want!”

“Yerim…”

“Yes, My Lady?”

“You’re pushing it.”

Missing her land is something she would have never thought she’d do. She doesn’t miss the situation she normally finds herself in, trying to please her parents and the landers alike, but that is far from what makes her ache when she looks around the castle, trying to remember the way back to Joshua’s room. Hana would have already been by her side. Her sister would have come visit, finally independent and away from the castle. Maybe, Minghao could tag along, her best friend over everything and anything—

Through the elongated hallways, with white walls and squared floorings, she finds the door to Joshua’s room on the far end, near the elevator that would have made it much easier to go up instead of using the stairs.

Instead, she opens the door with quick motions, not surprised to see Joshua seated in front of his personal desk, spacious enough for it to be considered the size of an office, a contract up to his face as he sports his best set of glasses. With the buttons of his shirt half undone, and his trousers hugging his legs nicely, she guesses he must be done with his online presentation.

“How was the presentation, love?” She asks, not missing a beat to go to the shelves next to Joshua’s office, surprised to see the width and tallness of some of them. Dark wood, bright under the sunlight, and filled with books like a library would have them.

Joshua finishes reading something on the contract before looking at her. “It was fine, babe.” He says, though, something in his voice tells her he is about to complain. “I thought I could make myself clearer, but I am not very good with introductions.”

She looks through the history books, trying to get to one she hasn’t read. Maybe, she should catch up on his land’s history. “You do just fine. You just get nervous.”

“I just don’t know what to say—”

Her fingers graze the spine of each book. Read. Read. Read. Read. “You’ll learn with time. You’re still young.”

“I’ve been in this business for years.”

“Well, you started extra young, and you’ve gotten so much better.”

“I guess, but—”

The spine of one book stops her from listening him, Joshua’s name written on it. She gets it out, surprised to see another book fall backwards, the number two following his name. When looking at the cover, she realizes that this is his diary—written there, only for her to see, is Joshua’s diary. Followed by a sequel, and then a third book, and then a fourth—

“Joshua, I didn’t know you used to write diaries.”

Those words are enough to have him up his feet, perhaps a little bit too slow for seduction, but quick enough to have him closing the book before she reads the first page, lifting her chin with his finger when he moves forward, making her walk backwards in the process.

“Old, stupid things that I used to write when I was younger. I stopped writing them years ago.” Joshua instructs, a movement on his eyes to sense his nervousness, though his lips are distracting when they land upon hers. His arms grasp around her waist, bringing her closer until he was waltzing around with her, sending her closer to the bed. “I used to write about you, too.”

“You did?” She asks, the voice of hope that comes when she realizes she likes Joshua for a reason. Most of the time, she doesn’t get to see it—but it exists there.

He hums, biting her bottom lip before letting her fall on the bed, the mattress jumping a bit at her weight, though she doesn’t pay attention to it, vision centered on him when he whispers. “Yes, about how beautiful you are…” His knees plant on the bed, right in between her legs, arms extending on each side of her head. Now hovering over her, he looks down at her lips. “And how much I wanted to do you on my bed.”

“Joshua!” She chuckles, hiding her face in his neck when he says those words. “You don’t get to say that!”

“I do.” He replies, pecking her cheek before descending for another kiss. Somehow, those diaries are left forgotten for a moment—whatever he has written in there is his business, after all, and with some chapters about her in those books, she can’t ask for anything else.

###

August 4th. One year ago.

When sunflowers rest in between her hands to pick the organic, natural decorations of her wedding, she doesn’t expect her human sunflowers to have surprised her with a flight to Joshua’s land.

Minghao. Hana. Her sister. All in that order.

Truthfully, she has never been more thankful for Hana. For a woman that only got to marry once, only to lose her husband soon after, she surely knew about wedding preparations. Everything that she had not been able to explain is now being jotted down by Yerim, seated on a bench in the corner of the flower shop, not once losing focus.

Her sister, however, despised the atmosphere—giving the excuse of going to grab something to eat before disappearing completely. Perhaps, she’s doing something she really loves doing, playing tourist and rummaging around the land of the Prince she hates so much.

However, one person fits perfectly in this boutique-like flower shop, his white t-shirt something simplistic for him, but the brown pants reaching his waist and the beige cardigan something to remember. His hair moves thanks to his hand, picking up another bouquet of flowers—roses, this time around—, smelling them, and putting them down.

“How’s the family, Minghao?” She asks, far more comfortable with him than she was four years ago. Minghao raises his head then, giving one of those smiles that make his cheeks plumper before shaking his head.

“Mom and dad love the retirement; I can tell you.” Minghao whispers, the adoration in his voice not making her jealous. She wishes she had a relationship like that with her parents, but over everything, she is happy for him. “And I am absolutely thrilled to be picking up calls like crazy.”

“Those people are lucky they get to talk to you.” She says, looking at the cherry blossoms in one little vase before clearing her throat. Better swallow her pride now before he leaves. “I missed you.”

Minghao remains quiet for a few seconds, his hand rubbing against her back soon after. “I missed you, too.” He replies, a sweet lullaby when he sighs softly and goes over to pick another bouquet of flowers. “How’s Joshua?”

“The question of the day.”

“It wouldn’t be me if I didn’t ask.”

“Why?”

“Because Joshua is the reason you’re here. And you’re the reason I’m here. It’s a connection.” Minghao instructs, elbowing her side to get a few words out.

There is only so much she can take out of their relationship right now. No fights, thankfully, but the lingering voice inside her head tells her that it is not enough. Spending hours in his bed, twisting and turning, breathing out his name like a mantra, letting him kiss her until her lips ache isn’t exactly what she imagined for a lover. Conversation, silence even, can be even better at times.

“Ah…alright, I guess. We haven’t had a big fight in a while.” She says, letting her fingers play with the flowers as she walks sideways, followed by Minghao. “But there’s this lingering feeling that tells me there’s something he is hiding from me.”

“How so?” Minghao asks, studying her expression as she speaks. She will never understand how observant he is.

She stops on her tracks, Minghao’s chest colliding against her back and making the two of them stumble a bit. His hands wrap around her waist, keeping her in place as they both apologize at the same time. When he lets go of her, perhaps a bit nervous at the same time, she can’t help but chuckle. “Well, I—I discovered some diaries in his bookshelf. His. Like seven. The moment I mentioned them to him,” A snap of her fingers has Minghao looking down at her hand, the rose-gold band making a wild appearance. “Boom, he was trying to shut me up. Whenever I bring it up, I end up…” She pushes her lips together, not wanting to say much.

“You two end up fucking.”

“Minghao!”

“What, can’t a Lady fuck?” Minghao questions, laughter shaking her when the man shakes his head. “But that’s not something he should be doing to shut you up. Tell him that.”

“But what if it’s nothing?”

“Then, why wouldn’t he want to tell you?”

“Ugh, Minghao.” Pressing her index and middle finger to her temples, she sighs. “You need to stop making sense. You are too intelligent for my own good.”

His tan skin glows under the rare sunlight when he chuckles, shining brightly when he shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m just trying to be a good friend. That’s all I can do.” Though, the last sentence seems to have something else to do with them. She breathes in deeply, biting her bottom lip when Minghao rubs one thumb against her cheek, once, before pinching her cheek. “Check those diaries, or get it out of him. I don’t trust it.”

“Don’t you trust it or him?” She asks, trying to bring a smile up her face but Minghao shuts himself up.

“I think you know the answer.” He finalizes. Instead, he turns to the set of flowers. “Maybe we should go for white flowers for your bouquet? Since the wedding is going to be yellow themed and all. Bring some contrast—”

###

August 10th. One year ago.

The picture was flawless in her head. One of those dreams that she can’t recall if had been a reality or were just part of her imagination. Joshua, the new boy in the school, would fall so head over heels for her one day that he’d kiss the ground she laid upon. He’d make a rose out the words he told her. He’d turn chivalry into his way of speaking, love her for who she truly was, with so much adoration that each year would be stronger. Each and every single year, they’d grow into a sweet tune of comfort that could only come with so much love that she’d feel at ease. Not complete, for that was all her doing, but something of the like of that.

Then, years later, she should have imagined that there were risks to take with such a happy ending. Seated on that spacious desk, with Joshua fast asleep on the bed, she uses the light of her phone to illuminate all seven diaries. Three in the morning and a good reader, she thinks she can get through them—or, at least, skim through the most important stuff—, before he wakes up. It’s that sense of craziness and curiousness that bleeds out now that Minghao is back to her land that she truly feels like she needs to act upon the words he says.

The first few readings are cute. Joshua at fourteen, a bit dreamy eyed, a ton of stupid, and clearly not in love with anyone. She even finds herself trying not to laugh at some of those, at the notes he wrote on paper for his love for music, and all of the like.

Though, when Joshua turns sixteen, everything changes…and it’s not the presence of someone like her that does it.

Heejin comes up a lot in the first few pages. Beautiful, delicate, daughter of a businessman Heejin who owns a bunch of hospitals. Long dark hair, a beautiful smile, and carefree nature. Heejin who stole his first kiss. Heejin who went out on a date with him. At first, she believes that this truly comes with the passage of time. So what if Joshua had a little thing when he was a teen with Heejin? Now they’re much older, still friends, but he has been in a relationship for so long—

Second book, Joshua is seventeen. He has his first time with Heejin.

Third book, Joshua starts his relationship with her and it’s at this moment that she can’t stand reading that woman’s name—

“I wonder if I will ever feel like how I felt with Heejin with her.”

Joshua tends to make a lot of mistakes on his diaries, scraping them over with lines before continuing, but this one line came with so much confidence that she finds herself looking for more. That’s only the third book, there needs to be more.

Her eyes itch by the time it’s five in the morning, going through the fourth diary and feeling tears welding up quickly. Joshua speaks about not getting over Heejin, speaks about the uncertainty of his feelings—writes his name down with what seems to be love, initials and all, thinks of her as beautiful. As the most beautiful. Lusts and loves, adores and worships. Joshua’s goddess has always been Heejin, and it only further intensifies the feeling of hatred inside of her when she continues reading.

It’s by the sixth book that she realizes Joshua does not only love Heejin, but he also started seeing her again on the 8th of October, last year.

Seeing her like he would when he was younger.

Even better, now he’s wiser, a bigger liar, a bigger asshole.

She doesn’t know what takes over her, but she questions a lot of things. How dare he? First and foremost. How dare he take her first kiss, her first time, her entire train of thought? Make her lose her dreams, concentrate on him, lead him on as the front-man while she was in the background? How dare he write a hundred texts to her saying how much he missed her, how he wanted to kiss her, how she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid his eyes on, when he had always wanted Heejin?

How dare he keep bringing Heejin to every event? And how does Heejin even dare ask her for updates on her wedding preparations when she has seen it all? Seen the man she is about to marry fall so deeply in love with her that he’d risk a long lasting relationship just to be with her again, that he’d use her just to get over her, just to get over the fact that Heejin wanted to be free and while that was what made him fall for her, it’s also what kept them apart?

How dare he say that he had written hundreds and hundreds of pages about the beauty of her when there is only two?

The chair clanks against the floor when she stands up, abruptly, taking those two pages and crumpling them at the same time that she hears Joshua gasp away.

“Babe, what are you—?”

He doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence, the ball of paper ending up in between his lips as he fidgets to get away from her, whining in the process. “Shut the fuck up, I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit.” For the first time, she forgets she is a Lady. Tonight, she is someone sleep-ridden and heartbroken. Enough tears had been dropped for this man. “Thank you for those two little fucking pages in your diaries about Heejin, I very much appreciate my goddamned fiancé being head over heels for someone else.”

Joshua gets the crumpled paper out of his mouth, throwing it to the side as he stands up. “I can’t believe you read them—” And above all, there is a bit of resentment in his tone. “What about my privacy?”

“What about my dignity?” She asks, tears brimming her vision, but she won’t let them drop again. “You and your best friend have been having fun behind my back, but that’s not the worst part—you’ve used me to get over her.”

“I—I didn’t use you!” Joshua tells her, extending his hands forward before sighing. “Babe, can we just talk about this? I swear I didn’t use you.”

“Don’t swear.”

“But, I really do swear—”

“Don’t swear!” She screams, her throat hurting at the ripping motions of her vocal cords before shaking her head. “Don’t swear when I know it’s a lie—”

“Everything with Heejin has always been impossible—”

Yet, he still wants it. It has always been her. “So, you decided to be with me instead? I was the second choice?”

“No, God—” Joshua says, lowering his weight until he is kneeling in front of her. Never had he kneeled for anyone, a Prince above all, not even for his proposal, but now that he has been caught, he’s crawling like an ant. “I’m so…so sorry.” Kisses scattered across her thighs, enough to have her eyes closing tightly.

How many times has he done this for her?

“You were always the first choice! I just…I didn’t know how to…You…You were so in love with me, I didn’t know how to react.”

“So, instead of telling me you didn’t feel the same, you went on and cheated on me.” This time around, she pushes at his shoulders, soft enough to pull away from him before giving a few steps back. Her fingers wrap around that band, the one that she had been so doubtful to put on, and for a reason. “Take your ring and never talk to me again, Joshua Hong.”

“Hey, no, no—!” Joshua says, for the first time in his life lifting his voice, tears clouding his vision when he reaches for her wrist. “Don’t leave me, babe, you have given me everything.”

“And you gave me shit in return.” She finishes, shaking her head as she rushes out of that door. She can hear footsteps behind her, quickened, but she moves with the need to breathe. If she doesn’t get out of there as soon as possible, get on a plane and go back to her land, her lungs will contract so badly they will stop working—

When she reaches the entrance, she doesn’t hear Joshua rushing behind her anymore. He has stopped searching, stopped running, and it doesn’t surprise her.

It was never her he had been looking for.

###

December 22nd. Eight months ago.

The only time she has gone out of her room since arriving from Joshua’s land has been to grab pen and paper.

In fairytales, when a member of the Royal family locks themselves up in their rooms, it’s for a Prince to find them. What a surprise, it is, that she has locked herself to avoid anyone seeing her after making a fool of herself with that man for so long. The first few days, her Mother complained about Joshua calling her and telling her that she had broken off the engagement, calling her stupid for even letting go of such a man. Chivalry is dead, she said, and she believes it may be. With the passage of time, the only people that tried to get to her were Hana, her sister and Minghao. Only Hana managed to greet her, for she didn’t have the ability to face those who had seen her such in love with a man like that.

The pen glides across the paper with ease, her utmost desire coming to life now that she has become a mess of reading and writing. She knows what she wants, knows that it isn’t what she had. Being Joshua’s plus one had never been her thing, but the parties before and the pleasantries were much worse. This time around, she lets those professional words and charisma that she had been taught speak for herself, opting out of the Duchess position.

Perhaps, no one will care. It’s a certainty that not a lot of people remember her anymore, but she doesn’t want to be a Royal anymore. She will live here as long as she can before moving on to something else. That’s as much as she knows, but it will be more difficult once the news goes along. With one final movement of her wrist, she signs the letter, putting it inside an envelope before turning around to look at Hana standing by the door.

With her hands interlocked in front of her, Hana looks at her with worry. “Don’t mind it,” She says, standing up and letting her pajama pants drag against the flooring. Fuck all those dresses she used to wear. “I personally asked for you not to be fired. I know you need the job.”

“I—I won’t go anywhere if you don’t go.” Hana says, voice much stronger than intended before cowering onto herself. “You’re like my daughter, I can’t leave you now that you’re all saddened—”

“Ah-ha.” She tuts, moving her index finger from side to side before giving her the envelope. “I am not going anywhere without you. I’ll see what I can sort out for us with the money I have saved until I can give us the life we deserve. No more of this bullshit we have gone through.”

“Language.”

“Well, I am not going to be a Lady for much longer so…” Once again, she drags herself inside her bed, her home for the past few months, plopping her thumping head down on the pillow before smiling dizzily. Hana opens the door to the bedroom, and she watches the shorter woman about to leave until she asks her. “Hana?”

“Yes, sweetie?” Hana retorts, turning around with a much more dulcet expression than the worried one she had sported earlier.

“Will I ever feel better?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Hana says, taking the brief time to go over to her to press a kiss to her forehead, speaking against the skin. “You’re only one step away from happiness.”

“How about a hundred?”

“One big step, then.” Hana concludes, moving over to the door and closing it with some last few words. “But closer than you were before, honey.”

###

August 15th. Present day.

She has figured out that not a lot of people look up at her window to see if she’s there in that damned castle. It’s as though once she became an invisible matter, no one cared.

Books read, words written, and she still has a lot of work to catch up with. While locked in that room, she has managed to do something different with her life—past the drama that followed her departure from her title, and some speech through the walls to be able to stay for a few months while she gets her life sorted out, a new light has appeared in her life. Not that new, if she’s honest, she has always imagined herself doing something like this, but being a teacher’s assistant in one of the educational spots in the land wasn’t exactly out of her mind even when she was a Duchess. It’s tiring, revising tests is starting to worsen her vision, but it’s so worth it.

Most of the time, she spends it by the window, seated on the straight couch there, legs extended as she feels the weather of the day bask her. Today, it’s awfully gloomy for her land, fog coming up to people’s faces and blending them in when they enter the castle. None of them stare at the opened curtains of her window, neither do they care about her existence. With a sigh, she returns to the task at hand, revising one more test before she gets lost in the real dream that had always been part of her.

Studying history, technically, as a career.

Honesty is the best policy and she knows she got this job, partly, because she used to be a member of the Royal family. She still is, in what blood consists of when pumping against her arteries and keeping her alive, but she no longer holds that sense of pride on it. It’s been months since she has last seen her sister, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she needs to heal. Become the woman that would be powerful enough to eat the world alive, contrary to her brittle self.

Signing herself for a university interview feels odd. It’s been a while since she has been out in the world, and perhaps, she doesn’t miss it as much as she makes herself believe. She had put herself out there too many times before, fired by the bullets that ripped straight to her heart and made her recoil to herself. What are the odds of everything going alright if she tries again?

When she looks down the window, she sees two figures that she misses deeply. Her sister, whose hair is longer, sporting an all-black outfit that makes her look both professional and youthful, lips tainted a deep red. Minghao, by her side, is speaking to her as she rushes towards the entrance, holding an envelope on her hands that she can only imagine is something for her Mother. Nonetheless, Minghao is left behind, enough for her to inspect him from afar.

Minghao’s hair is much longer than remembered, a green shirt under a gray suit that somehow looks great sported by him. From a distance, she can see him inspecting around, from the gardens to the entrance, to the people bustling around before looking up. His eyes connect directly to hers, the first person on the passing days turned months of her solitude, on lockdown.

Had his lips always looked like petals of roses? She questions herself, watching him purse his lips as he lifts his hand to wave at her softly. Glasses cover his eyes for the most part, tainted thanks to petrichor, but he sees her. Knows exactly where to get her, texts ignored by her as a way to put the pieces of her heart together and he waited.

She doesn’t wave back, instead resting her hand against the window, tapping her fingers against the surface as if she was able to touch him. Minghao had always made her feel better, no different in the way a smile sneaks up on her features and sits there to stay.

The man mouths, pointing at the place he is standing by: “Want to come down?” She reads, concentrating on the flower on his lips, the noir poem of his existence that somehow has turned dulcet.

Though, she is not ready, shaking her head in hopes of slowing down the process of Minghao getting too close to her. She still needs time. “Not today.” She says, lips parted enough for him to understand every word before he nods.

“Some other time?” He breathes out, only understood by her when he repeats it again and without the hint of doubt, she replies:

“Definitely.”

With that, Minghao sighs deeply, a cloud of smoke gathering by his nose before giving a few steps forward, opening the weighty doors of the castle and closing them behind him. Her heart is racing by the time she looks at the empty spot he left behind, suddenly much brighter than the gloomy day.

###

Minghao knows where she is, and he makes it known.

Somehow, studying feels even worse when there is pressure on her shoulders—trying to get into university like a normal student, not like the Duchess she used to be. With her back hunched, she sits on her bed, readying herself for the moment three weeks from now when she’ll have to face the world again, and not only that, get judged by it again, but for something else, her intelligence, perhaps.

Breathing the answers into the air about this certain question, she stops when she realizes she has forgotten someone’s name. It passes her enough to have her closing her eyes tightly, cursing herself for not being able to remember. She used to be so good at this, but it seems like she has lost some of the talent she had, or the confidence that had once been within her when it came to history.

Two taps at her window make her lift her gaze, heart shaking in fear of what it could be. Birds passing by, perhaps, her room is high enough in this castle for it not to be reached by anyone, but the persistent sound follows her even minutes later, something thrown at her window before leaving her in silence, repeating the action only seconds after. It’s only after the fourth time the noise comes by that she stands up, anger raking through her when she goes to the window.

Opening the window, she looks around, lowering her weight the slightest to be able to inspect the sides. Left, nothing. Right, nothing. The castle looks the same as it did earlier, birds gone to other portions of the garden, but just as she’s about to push herself back inside her room, she hears her name being called, a tone not dulcet enough, but somehow warm in the way he speaks.

When she looks down, she is not surprised to see Minghao. Well, part of her really is—whenever he has the time, he makes himself be known, reminding her that he is there for her. Notes left under her door, that she reads when she gets the time. Books that he places outside of her door, never once knocking, but mouthing to her from the window to check the outsides of her room. It has been like this for days, perhaps even weeks, she has lost the passage of time when it comes to him.

She leans her weight against the windowsill, quirking an eyebrow at him. “What were you throwing at my window, Minghao?” She asks, not a single tone of annoyance in her voice anymore, and Minghao takes this moment to cross his arms behind his back, the yellow sweater on his body highlighted because of this. Yellow has always been her favorite color.

“Pebbles.”

“You could’ve broken my window, then.”

“If that’s what it takes to get you out of there, I will.” Minghao shrugs his shoulders, always too honest for his own good, and that’s what she adores the most about him. He pushes one of his legs forward and back, a dance of nervousness that only goes past his lips when he decides to let it go. “It’s been months. I want to see you.”

But she doesn’t feel quite ready. What if he suddenly realizes that she has played with time for far too long, that each step she takes she doubts, that right now, she doesn’t know where she starts or ends, or if she even started at all? “I’m isolating myself until I get my mind together—”

“I understand that, but—” Minghao lifts his hand to cloud the sun that basks on his face, making him glow. He has always had that with him, that’s for sure. “I could help you if you’d just let me.”

She chuckles at that, interlocking her fingers as she speaks to him. “Why?”

Minghao doesn’t hesitate, and that’s something to envy. Hardships of her life, all the pain and tears, suddenly seem to be left in the past when he smiles softly at her, like he does, never quite showing his teeth and yet, saying everything she needs to hear. “Because I miss you.” He tells her, loud enough for the people around them to hear, or perhaps, no one cares about them. It’s better if they don’t.

“I miss you, too.” She breathes out, wanting nothing more than for it to be heard. She misses one of her closest friends, her sister’s best friend, her confidante. Over everything, she mixes Xu Minghao. “…We’ll see each other someday, I promise.”

“Someday soon?”

“Sooner than you think.” She tells him, lowering her gaze to avoid his penetrating gaze. “I’ll text you…ah, we can text and sort something out.”

“I’m okay with that.” Minghao says, though, when she looks at him again, he is looking down at his watch. “I have a meeting right now, so I have to go. Check outside your bedroom, okay?”

Patience follows after him as he moves away from the castle, but she isn’t quite as patient anymore. Scrambling to close the window, she walks over to the door, opening it in one swift motion, being met by one of the workers in the castle, holding up a tray filled with her favorite food, two red apples reminiscent of him, and of course, a note from him.

“Until we meet again – Xu Minghao.”

She can’t wait.

###

Never was it her virtue to wait for the right time, the perfect moment. This time around, it isn’t any different. Instead of waiting for the day of her university interview, she texts Minghao much sooner—asking him how his day went, thanking him for all the pleasantries, gratefulness above all, and when he answers, there is nothing that stops the conversation.

It was only a matter of time until she decided to meet him again, and when he said he planned on having a picnic meeting with her—not a date, mind her—she thought it was perfect. With the moonshine draping against the curtains of the castle’s living room, the world in silence as it’s well over dinnertime, she tugs at the fabric of her dress. It has been a while since she has worn one of those, even when she hated them to bits, but this one makes her feel at ease. One that Hana made for her when visiting her sisters, the time away giving her inspiration for her favorite Duchess. Short, yet flowy, in a daylight sky blue that has her feeling a bit too bright for the night.

Everything on her is much cheaper than what she was set to wear as Duchess, but the movement of her feet is more lightweight the more she reaches the door. Minghao had said he was waiting for her outside, but each step falls harsher than the last. Not only will she meet with Minghao, who has very much grown onto himself as a person, physically and mentally, but it is the first time she will be out of the castle in months.

Maybe, she should stop.

Shame is an emotion she tries not to feel, but her life has been set, plotted, written and read according to what other people said. With her hand connecting to the doorknob of the entrance door, a few guards sparing her glances before looking away, she wonders what people would say. The Duchess is out again. The ex-Duchess. The one that left Prince Joshua for a supposed cheating scandal. Maybe, too old to study in judging eyes, or too privileged to do so.

It almost makes her stay, but she tugs at the door before she could even think in any other way.

There, in the usual spot that gives her a clear view of him from the window, is Xu Minghao. A businessman by now, owner of very big companies, an heir that knew how to divide his life perfectly. With his back turned towards her, he only notices her when the door closes, the moon making perfect shadows on his face. Maturity had taken over his features, his hair falling down his forehead, and surprisingly, a full smile appears on his face when she nears him, arms taking a mind of their own to wrap around Minghao’s slim frame.

Never had a hug felt this good, as if she belongs in these arms—unjudged, unashamed, without a hardship in this violin tune of line that only dizzies her. Minghao doesn’t waste much time to wrap his arms around her body, hiding his face on the juncture of her neck before breathing in deeply. His eyelashes flutter against her skin, as if taking all of her in, the tickling sensation nicely welcomed when she tugs at the fabric of his white sweater, tucked inside a pair of stylish, painted jeans, with figures that she hasn’t quite detailed.

“I’m so happy you’re back.” He breathes out, taking her face in between his hands when pulling away and, as always, his thumb rubs against her cheek, pinching it soon after when he lets go.

“I never left.” The confession weights with guilt on her chest, because she did. Months of not talking to him just for the sake of healing, when he could’ve been there by her side while she did so. “…So, picnic time?”

“Yes.” Minghao replies, extending his arm for her to take before walking side to side, the fabric of his sweater rubbing against her bare forearm. “Read the books I gave you?”

“All of them.”

“What did you think about—?”

Lips pushed together to keep himself silent, Minghao is not a man of many words—not until he is interested, and what a surprise it is that not a single moment in that lake, as they gave bites of each other’s foods, he seemed to stop himself from talking. It’s at that moment that she realizes she is necessary for some people in this life, and likewise with him, or rather, not necessary…wanted, desired, wished to be there.

There’s no better feeling.

###

Water always makes her feel better. In all forms and shapes. Knowing there is something deeper than what she feels, something stronger than her and yet, feeling so weak against her fingertips, gives her the force to know she has been through worse than waiting for the response of a university. Though, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t spend most of her time helping the maids around the castle, trying to find something to do that distracts her before she goes absolutely crazy.

Hana has always been a bit strict when it came to certain fabrics, and only now she realizes how difficult it is to wash a gown by hand, much more her Mother’s, that seems to be never-ending as four people, including her, try to get it washed. She knows Mother won’t use it again, but she doesn’t have the heart to remind that to the groups of people working for her. It would only make them feel worse, and she’s there to feel better.

The laundry machine roars behind them, though she pays more attention to the faint sound of music playing in the background. Water drips down her hands when she rubs the fabric against itself, trying to get rid of any stain or smell, though there is a party in between the staff. Candles lit up, cake sliced, a song too upbeat for her danced by her workers. Some are buzzed, even in this early moment of the day, for it’s the ex-Duchess’ birthday.

Her birthday and it doesn’t quite feel like it.

In the past, she liked her birthday, but today, she feels nostalgic. Only getting older, but not getting anywhere—well, she’s in the process, but it feels like her growth will last forever, and she’s too impatient to wait for it. Smelling like smoke, detergent and soap, she thanks the few people that gave her such pleasantries, that congratulated her as if they were part of her family, because they are. Careless, she isn’t, and even though the smile on her face is weakened, it means well.

One day, she’s going to hold onto every birthday as if it’s the last—one never knows, but somehow, today, celebrating is not in her vocabulary. It hasn’t been in a while.

“I think someone is looking for you.” Hana says, already reaching for her hands with a towel to wipe them away from the soap and water. She widens her eyes, unaware of why Hana is so rushed to get her out of the laundry room and towards the living room. “Oh my, darling, why are you this untidy?”

“I was doing laundry, Hana, that’s why.” She replies, looking down at her black tank top and leggings, not looking like how she used to be on a normal day, always prepared for an event. “Why? I get to be comfortable on my birthday—”

Hana stops her as they are reaching the living room, turning around to release her hair from its confines on a ponytail, tugging her shirt down to show more of her cleavage and using that towel to wipe all the droplets of water from her body. “Because you will want to look good for this visitor.”

She scoffs. “I don’t want to look good for anyone other than myself.”

Hana stops rubbing at her skin then, lifting her hands in surrender before looking at her pointedly. “Okay, look like a mess, but when you do regret looking like one in front of this visitor, I am going to say that I told you so.”

“If that happens, have my heart.” Her hand extends on top of the left portion of her ribcage, moving forward with her slippers sliding against the tiles, resounding obnoxiously as she reaches the main area by the entrance. Spacious enough to be considered a house of its own, but the closer she gets, the more noticeable the person by the door becomes.

She stumbles back slightly, though the smile on her face is more taken aback than angry. Minghao stands there, a bouquet of sunflowers in between his hands and a small black bag holding tightly onto his fingers, turned white under the pressure of his gift. With a deep green turtleneck, a leather jacket and a pair of ripped, oversized, light-washed jeans, he looks more like the birthday person than she does.

“Minghao? What are you doing here?” She asks, once again retreating at the sound of her slippers. Fuck, once they’re wet, they sound like they’re smacking against the floor far more than usual. Still, she keeps walking forward, Minghao giving her a once-over that goes unnoticed, mostly. “Not that you’re not welcome, but you said you had a meeting with your PR team.”

“I did, but now I’m here.” Minghao finalizes, giving the bouquet of sunflowers to her before she looks down at it. One note reads her name, written in his expert handwriting, a brief ‘happy birthday’ wit a heart making her feel more at ease than ever. Who cares if she looks a little bit unprepared? “Happy birthday.” He says, one arm wrapping around her shoulder to rest his cheek against her head. She chuckles at that, enveloping her arm around his taut waist to take the warmth of him, the hug sideways and yet, meaningful.

“Thank you. It hasn’t been exactly the happiest, but it hasn’t been sad either.” She conquers, pulling away from him before pointing to the kitchen. “Want me to serve you some coffee?”

“Do you have tea?”

“I do.”

“Let’s have tea while we wait for the cake I ordered for you.” Minghao replies, going after her towards the kitchen. Though her grin is perceptible, she can’t help but groan.

“Goodbye to my night of sleep with the amount of sugar I’ve eaten today, and it’s not even night.” She says, going over to the shelves to look through her repertoire of tea. “Black?”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’, the chair creaking under his weight when he splays his gift on the island, unable to stand straight. “But, before you start, I brought you something—”

She stops then, moving towards him before taking the black bag in between her hands. Gifts are not something she enjoys regularly, much more because she was bathed in them instead of being given sentimentalism, but from Minghao, she finds it hard to deny that she is head over heels with the idea of him giving her something.

“Thank you.” She says, opening the bag as she speaks. “It must be heavy; your fingers are all red.” Though, her words come to a halt when she gets a canvas out of the bag, the plastic falling on the floor when she inspects it in front of her line of vision. Blue merges into a moonlit sky, railings of a balcony crooked yet enigmatic, strokes made from his heart and soul, a pool underneath, the doors open ajar. She knows this place.

Minghao explains it for her when she can’t find words to say, reminiscent of the first time they met. He was, what, eighteen or nineteen then? “That’s the place in which we met,” Minghao whispers, pointing at the canvas. “Well, where you met me. I always saw you around the castle, but you never paid much attention.”

How could she not? She will always blame herself for not getting to know Minghao sooner. Still, she lifts her gaze, unable to voice out what she truly feels. Adoration. “Why didn’t you just try to talk to me?”

He shrugs, pulling the sleeves of his jacket down before taking it off, draping it on the island in the process. “Way back then, I thought you’d never connect with me. We wouldn’t be, well, good friends or anything, in my head.” Minghao tries to come out with proper answers, crossing one leg over the other. “I am glad I woke up that night.”

“Because you met me?”

“That,” Minghao says, resting his hand on his palm, his index and middle finger parting on his cheek. “And that you noticed me.”

“You painted this?” She asks, only to receive a nod from him. Looking at it once again, she can’t believe he remembers the balcony of his cousin’s house that perfectly. He moved away from there years ago, after all. “Minghao, I am the lucky one for getting to know you, not the other way around.”

“Ah, perception. Another thing of life that is relative.”

“…There you go.” She chuckles, knowing fully well that said words belong to Minghao. Always thinking ahead of what is in front of him, so realistic that it almost becomes complex to understand. She puts the canvas down on the island, taking the time to wrap her arms around his shoulders and rest her chin on his shoulder. His hands hesitate to rest on her waist, getting closer and closer until he engulfed her completely. “I’ll put it up in my room. Thank you.”

The tea that brews later will never be as warm as his presence, as his smile, the way he seems to remember things about her that she even forgot telling him. Xu Minghao is not only a realist, but the only reality that she is happy of living.

###

While she had never noticed just how loved Minghao was around not only businesspeople, but with normal individuals as well, it seemed like the world had put him on a pedestal. A deserved one, at that. Earning himself the opportunity of a documentary for his strenuous, gorgeously planned work in the business industry as one of the richest heirs in the entire continent. Not that she was told beforehand, but when Minghao texted her to join him while he recorded around the land, she took her textbook and followed after Minghao’s staff for the rest of the day.

The sun beams down on him, in the middle of the bustling city with the cameraman, Jeon Wonwoo, on one knee as he tries to get a good shot, the rest of the team working with the lights, with the microphone, making sure that everything Minghao wears is still on place. The high-waisted striped pants and the button down a standard for fashion just by looking at it, yet so incredibly creative that she finds her breath stolen the moment she saw him earlier. Never had she been able to look at Minghao this closely, or this sentimentally, when he raises his head and answers one of the questions one of Wonwoo’s team has as he walks, showing the land that had welcomed his business after he moved in here.

Small as a land, but productive for him as a businessman.

This time around, Minghao doesn’t have a camera hanging from his neck and she has long forgotten the textbook that rests in between her arm and her ribcage, walking behind the team to hear Minghao’s answers, must of them have been simplistic enough, something for him to showcase how it was to move in here, how he grew internationally, what he wants for his future and what he imagined in the past. All equaling to something Minghao could respond easily, his own photographer taking pictures of him from afar for the previews of the documentary.

He props his sunglasses down on the bridge of his nose, quirking an eyebrow when Wonwoo, instead of one of his team, is the one to ask him a question: “What is the most important lesson you have learned in your life?”

Minghao giggles a bit to himself, as if a million thoughts crossed his head and he couldn’t pick one. When that smile settles on his face, she details him. Rosy lips and brown eyes that capture her when the apples of his cheeks become prominent and he answers: “Be patient. Work hard for what you want. What is meant to be for you, will come to you even if it’s the last day of your life.”

The way he looks over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling behind those expensive yet flimsy pink sunglasses, tells her a million things and none at all. Not that she minds it, this uncertainty doesn’t dull in insecurity, but rather blinks with curiousness. Her heart, against her ribcage, begs for an answer…but maybe, in another life, she’d let that one voice inside of her speak with confidence. This time around, she knows better than to ponder, than to hang onto that smile that makes her feel a thousand things all at the same time. For once, she doesn’t think Minghao as a friend that she wishes to keep by her side, but she sees him as something else. Attractive, for once, a pull so strong that she finds herself stopping when he looks ahead once again, taking the questions like a champion.

Bullshit.

This is absolute bullshit.

She’s not this kind of fool, but why is it that she now realizes that Minghao has one of the best eyes she has ever seen and that, when with him, this feeling of attraction doesn’t make her feel disgusted? It doesn’t make her feel brittle or insecure, but the experience tells her not to give that step forward.

She doesn’t like Minghao. It can’t be.

She’s not able to like anyone after what happened to her.

Whatever this is, it isn’t what she is thinking. What’s the use of falling if it’s not going to be real? Minghao was just looking over his shoulder, there is no way he would have waited for her—

Love never waits. People never wait. They’d rather have someone than not have anyone at all.

Besides, it’s not like Minghao is not a handsome man. There is no way that his heart kept with only one person for this long.

Yeah, she’s just assuming, and assuming is never good. Minghao has his heart well reserved, given to someone that she doesn’t know, and she can’t feel that way for someone who has treated her so fairly, such like a friend. She doesn’t need another reason for a headache, not when her life is sorted out or halfway there. Love is a waste of time, just a touch of lips, souls and bodies that brings to nothing at all. A game that no one wins.

With that in mind, she keeps walking, listening to Minghao and feeling each portion of her heart ripple with electricity. He’s a charming man, she’s not the only person that sees it, and definitely she isn’t thinking of him in any other way that isn’t as friends.

###

The first test in university is always the worst. Just seeing her classmates’ grades has her throat getting dry, seeing all the people who have failed—and those who have barely passed is just enough of a headache to have her closing the laptop momentarily, only to have the person beside her sighing deeply, taking a seat next to her on her bed to open the laptop again, pressing on the spacebar with rapidness as he wraps one arm around her.

Minghao is not her leverage—she has learned never to lean on someone, but what a blessing it is to feel him next to her when she is at her worst. Woken up at night because of the worries for this one text, he’d always reply to her midnight worries, albeit a bit annoyed at times, but caging it in because it’s her. She’ll never understand how he does it, being this nice and not asking for anything in return.

“Come on, whatever the grade is, it’s not a definition of who you are.” Minghao says, pressing his index finger to her adjacent temple, looking for her name through the masses of people in the picture. “Besides, what you learned will stay here and that’s what will keep on with you. No matter how many people did better or worse than you, you still learned, and that’s the important part.”

She lays her head on his chest, the fabric of his simple shirt rubbing against her cheek when she breathes out through her nose. “Yeah, but I studied so hard.”

“That’s what matters.” Minghao says, leaning his weight forward before pointing towards the laptop screen. “Besides, you’re the best grade in your class.”

The sound of those words shadow everything that has gone wrong in her life, light like him, in the way he says it so plainly but means the world to her. She lifts her gaze then, tears that she planned to drop gone in a second when she takes his face in between her hands, her head still pressed to his chest when she pulls his face down to look straight into his eyes, showing a lot of her teeth in a smile that plasters her happiness into the air. “Minghao, are you kidding me?!”

“I would never.” Minghao smiles back, looking down at her lips before returning his gaze to her eyes, clouds of pink rain scattering across the apples of his cheeks and if she is not mistaken, the lullaby in the ballad of Minghao’s heart turns into an upbeat tune. Something that she would hear in a club or in a party, rushed beyond her understanding, making her raise her eyebrows when she lets go of her face and his face stops flushing.

“Your heart is racing.” She says, awfully aloof in her deliver and Minghao can only let out one of his nervous giggles, nodding in the process.

“I am usually good at controlling my heartbeat.” He confesses, one of his hands resting on her shoulder, rubbing circles there yet not moving her from her spot. “But I am not doing so great today.”

“Why do you have to control your heartbeat?”

“…Well,” Once again, he smiles, this time around pulling himself away from her to take one of the cushions on her bed, playing with the fabric, fisting it in between his hands. “I normally have to do it around you.”

Does Minghao have to control his heartbeat around her? Why would his heart race on the first place?

At the mention of such words, she opts not to take the answer out of him. If Minghao said what was possible that existed between them, she wouldn’t know how to act. Her gut tells her to step forward and place his hand on her chest, show him that it has been weeks since her heart has started to go crazy for him. Instead, she goes for the easier route, the one that isn’t accompanied by heartbreak.

“Either way.” Minghao finishes, pushing his weight off her bed before clapping his hands together. “Now that we know you’re a genius, we should go and grab something to eat, don’t you think?”

Is that something else falling from his eyes? That glint that she has always talked about, always gushed about internally, perhaps it could mean something…just like it could mean nothing at all. Who knows? She doesn’t answer.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

###

Three months pass and her heart doesn’t want to shut up. It dances to its will whenever it sees Minghao, just like it does now that he is seated across from her in the sofa of her new mansion. His hands extend on each side of his body, inspecting the place with certainty, with the eye of a critic because he was the one that helped her the most with the decorations. All props should go to him.

Hana has her own room, locked away and excited to be able to start anew and not have to work for anyone in the process. Not that Mother was too pleased about her decision, but she could not bring herself to care, not when Minghao nods to himself and hums in the process, a big smile taking over his face.

“It’s perfect for you.”

The rows of bookshelves, the vintage atmosphere, the delicacy that meets both feminine tones and real masculine ones, they all come together with pinches of yellow, her favorite color. Minghao doesn’t notice it, the way she isn’t even inspecting the mansion but looking at him instead, taking the seat beside him and placing her arm over his abdomen, taut and contracting thanks to the action.

“And it’s all thanks to you.”

“No, no. I helped you decorate,” Minghao corrects, turning to look at her before sighing. “This was all your doing. You bought the mansion. You planned what you wanted. This is years-worth of dreaming given to you by yourself.”

Always finding the perfect words, Minghao manages to engrave himself inside her head. Not that he has ever left, the cause of her dreaming, also the cause of her absolute denial. It’s in the fact that she fears getting hurt that keeps her away, that ignores the way his eyes trail down to her lips from time to time, how he stops himself each time is beyond her. Maybe, he senses more than what she actually realizes, and it’s at this point that she notices that Minghao won’t ever talk, do anything, even remotely speak about what he may feel about her if she doesn’t get it out of him.

She has known him for years, and never had she felt this…lukewarm. She used to think that love was meant to be feral, rip at her, bite at her heart, make her feel heartbroken but in love at the same time. It’s what she saw, it’s what she believed in. However, with Minghao everything has always been different. She doesn’t hate herself in the process of liking him, neither does she think of herself as less when being around him. All the kisses she has given in the past seem to be forgotten when she tries to think of giving him a kiss.

If she has to die, she wants her last kiss to be with Xu Minghao. Those petal-like lips engulfing hers to give her hope of knowing that whatever life she got to live, she made the best out of it.

Which is why, for the first time, without thinking and with an intake of breath, she whispers out the words that she had not even internalized. Certainty clouds her, it’s so full of confidence even in its mumble, that she finds herself surprised by what she feels, the way her eyes want to concentrate on everything about him.

“I like you, Minghao.”

She is a woman of words. It’s what she has read, what she has expected for her. Big confessions, grand apologies, bunch of excuses and lies, people that kiss up to her even if they don’t mean it. Minghao loves the silence of patience, waits for the right moment to let those words fall down on him like rain, his features softening, the slightest bit of surprise passing his wide eyes before he leans forward, just a breath away from her, but he stops.

He stops because he knows she likes words, and they both compromise silently at that moment.

“I’ve liked you for a long time.” He tells her, lowering his weight slightly until their lips are centimeters away from each other. “Can I kiss you?”

With a nod of her head, she realizes the difference between the kiss of love and the kiss of desire is huge. Not a lot of pressure, he seems to melt against her, softly parting his lips to relish on the sentiment more than the quickness of it all. Minghao splays his hand on her waist, bringing her closer when he uses his other hand to touch her cheek. A rub of his thumb against the skin, and a soft whisper of her name against her lips once the contact is finished.

It doesn’t take a lot of words to know then Xu Minghao loves her, and after all this time, she may say one thing…

She hates a lot of things, but she will never hate him.

#the8 scenarios #minghao scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #minghao #the8 #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #minghao au #minghao fluff #minghao angst #heir!au #duchess!au #there we go one of my best tries at modern royal!au lol

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whatthefuckisasweep · 3 years

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Grif

For the character ask! Sorry this took me a while, I can't copy and paste on mobile, so I waited till I got on desktop tumblr! Thank you so much for asking about him, I could go on forever lol so this is gonna be fucking LONG. Please, anyone, feel free to ask about any other character, too. These are fun.

Why I like them: Grif is, for lack of a better word, complex. On one hand, it's like, okay he's just a funny comedy character. But on the other hand, he's like every all of my favorite archetypes of a character. He's crafty but stupid, selfish but selfless, antisocial but friendly, the straight man but the dramatic guy, he's snarky but oddly caring: the reluctant hero. It's kind of paradoxical, and I feel like not only do I relate to him, but I just really enjoy him overall. Whether it's because he's a good brother, being a complete dickbag because he doesn't know how to handle emotions, being a complete cynic on the battlefield, or being hyperactive and snappy, it's just... ah. He. Everything in his life just happens, and he has to deal with it, and yeah he'll kick and pout and probably eat everything but in the end, he's gonna choose his family and he cares deeply... even when he can't really show it.

Why I don’t: I see this a lot in myself too - the fact that he's impulsive and inherently negative when he speaks specifically. his words don't match his actions. He often doesn't hesitate when it comes to making negative comments because they are easier than saying something nice, but what his intentions are are completely different. in other words, he's a jerk, lol. Especially in season 15. I know people felt bad for him because he was partially right and went insane on Iris, but he lowkey deserved it. He said he hated his friends, and even his closest friend. He didn't want to admit that he was a good person just because he didn't want to help. yeah, it was valid, but he needs to learn how to make a case without fucking everyone emotionally and being so clammed up. >:/ sometimes it feels like he regresses in character, as much as he's matured. i guess that's realistic and just the writers making comedy, but also the way he handles Doc specifically irks me. so mean spirited for no reason, as funny as it is.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): OH MY GOD, okay, literally, every single episode with Grif starring as a main is fucking gold. I think for this I'm going to say, uh, This One Goes to Eleven. Even though it's not Grif-centric, it's the episode that's my favorite overall because it introduced me to RvB and made me like Grif right away, simply because he was attacked so much and I felt so bad for him. Another great one that sticks out right now in my sleep deprived state, is Grif does a Rescue. Augh. And the episode where Grif and Simmons get stuck underground in the caves.

Favorite season/movie: Season 8 (shotgun!!!, hyperactive ai grif), Season 11 (hanging in the canyon with simmons), Season 4 (the tank and blue simmons w/ grif), Season 5/6 (kai and rat's nest), Season 12/13 (the recruits, grif building the snowmen), Season 14 (backstory with simmons, Room Zero), Season 15 (you know why)

Favorite line: OK, don't make me choose. There are SO many that are good!!! I think one of my most favorite things that Grif says is "yoink!" It's so adorable! I also really enjoy "BLUEEE TEAAAAM SUCKKKKKS" with his epsilon double, the whole "invisible nap" scene, "what are we, on a date?"/"I can tell you what we weren't doing", "no one made me, I made me", "WERE GONNA FUCKING DIE" when charging at the meta, "that's a figure of speech?" [when carolina says im so hungry i could eat a horse is a figure of speech], "dexta grif he who shall not be messed with!"... I'm sure I'm missing a lot, he has SO many snarky funny lines, but these are some off the top of my head.

Favorite outfit: LOL THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY QUESTION BECAUSE THIS IS RVB. HAHAHA. Uh. Season 6 probably. I just like Halo 3 Graphics. Also s14 Room Zero because THEY DREW HIM FAT CANONICALLY. THANK YOU.

OTP: I'm with the majority of people in the fandom who like Grimmons! I think Grimmons is the only ship that I really vocally ship with my whole heart besides OC ships. I just very much enjoy their dynamic -- it's very angsty, dialogue full, intimate yet so unspoken. It's just a really good pair to write about and see the development of through canon. And, not to mention... season 15... hrk...

Brotp: I really REALLY want grif/tucker, grif/church, grif/locus BROTP. SO SO SO BAD. I've always seen grif and tucker as bros, grif and church are HILARIOUS together and we were ROBBED of more time together, and grif and locus are fucking adorable.

Head Canon: I have a lot of headcanons about Grif, but one of my favorite ones is that he has half-lidded eyes, like he's always sleepy. I also headcanon him as bisexual, though I think that is a popular headcanon!

Unpopular opinion: I dunno if I have super unpopular opinions about Grif... maybe that I think that his labryinth wasn't as bad as it seems at first? A lot of people seemed to think that though, yknow. Like if you look deeply into it, it's actually kinda fucked. But I feel like we should have gotten the Hawaii scene anyways. Hm. I also didn't like how they altered the canon so that Grif wasn't drafted. I think it does add something to his char that he chose to go, but I always really liked the aspect that Grif didn't control that, and yet he still did this on purpose. He was good on purpose.

A wish: A badass Grif carchase scene for the love of FUCK. We need to have him drive more stuff !!!!!!!!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: Have him betray the reds -- i think every other red has betrayed the team at some point. please god for the love of god dont do this to grif. it really adds and says something about his character that he doesn't ever betray his team.

5 words to best describe them: (eye roll) eh. fuck it.

My nickname for them: this isn't really my nickname, since I mostly just call him grif -- but 'gif'. It's cute, and my QPP came up with it! I also really like dex. augh

#rvb #grif #dexter grif #red vs blue #ask #asks #thank you for this #sorry for the length you just gave me a place to infodump #and i really thank u for this

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insomniac-dot-ink · 4 years

Text

Books I’ve Read in 2020

AHello! I’m trying to read as many books as I can during the quarantine, here’s what I’ve finished so far:

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong (literary fiction): a son writes a letter about his life to his illiterate mother. Breathtakingly beautiful with it’s way with words this book is lovely and real in the hardest and sweetest ways. The author’s combination of prose and poetry is dazzling and intricate, this book has stuck with me for days afterward. 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (fantasy): a money-lender gets in trouble after bragging she can turn silver into gold and is kidnapped and ordered to do so by a fey creature. It may be that I am the perfect audience for this type of book, but it’s my favorite thing I’ve read all year. It’s a book that equally takes on the fantastical and real-world with compelling female characters at the center of the whole thing. A wonderful fantasy journey inspired by eastern-European Jewish folklore. 5 out of 5 stars.

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll (horror graphic novel): a series of short horror comics. Absolutely bone-chilling! This was a really fun type of scary story, especially the last one which made my skin absolutely crawl. Deliciously eerie, this was treat to read if not a little too short. 4 out of 5 stars.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender (magical realism): a young girl can taste other people’s emotions in their cooking and begins to understand her family in new ways. This was a weird book, but it has everything you’ve got to love about that combination of the surreal and mundane. It’s sense of character was electrifying and I had fun engaging with this type of off-kilter real world. I was a little frustrated in parts bc of some characters choices, but that too was true to life. 4 out of 5 stars.

Crier’s War by Nina Varela (steampunk fantasy wlw): about a Made automaton heir to a throne and her human hand-maiden that is trying to kill her. This was an easy read with a lot of tension between the two main characters that I liked, but the writing itself was very weak. There was waaay too much exposition in parts and the dialogue had some really hockey lines. I enjoyed the twists and turns in the middle of the book, but the beginning and end didn’t have much movement. 2.5 stars out of 5.

The Huntress by Kate Quinn (historical fiction): honestly, I’m a little disappointed. This book just did not hit my sweet spots, it wasn’t fast-paced enough for me to get immersed in the plot, and the characters weren’t real enough to be wholly invested in them. That said I adored Nina Markova and the Night Witches, so that did help. 3 starts out of 5.

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White (horror sci-fi retelling): HAND IN UNLOVABLE HAND. A retelling of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein from the perspective of Victor Frankenstein’s wife and my God! The characters! The plot was well-enough, but the characters took the whole show for being complex and compelling. The main character was breathtakingly layered and I was wholly invested in Elizabeth and her story and the triumph at the end of this story was tangible. 4 out of 5 stars!

Uprooted by Naomi Novik (fantasy): A story of a young woman who lives in a valley where a girl must go live with a wizard for 10 years. She is certain she won’t be chosen, but ends up having to be “uprooted” herself. I enjoyed most of this book! However, I think I liked “Spinning Silver” a lot more just because the ending of this one somehow lost me. The characters were good and plot compelling, but (SPOILERS) the big battle at the end seemed to drag and didn’t interest me somehow. 3.8 out of 5 stars.

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (fantasy): excellent read! A story of a young woman in Jazz Age Mexico who goes on an adventure with a Mayan death God who is trying to regain his throne. A romp across the country absolutely brimming with likable characters and fairy tale twists. My only complaint would be that most of it felt a little predictable due to the fact we knew where we were going throughout the whole story, However, it was still greatly enjoyable for the heroine herself, Casiopea. 4 out of 5 stars!

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng (literary): a story of two families in a progressive “planned” community, how their lives intertwine, their secrets, and a central question surrounding motherhood. Deeply empathetic to its characters and introspective, this is an every-day story of people in suburbia that reads like a thriller. I could barely put it down and felt deeply for its characters and situations, 5 out of 5 stars!

Wilder Girls by Rory Power (YA sci-fi suspense): a story of a group of girls at a boarding school on an island affected by the “tox” which alters their bodies in strange ways like giving them scales or an extra spine. This was an eerie, interesting read with a wlw romance! Watch out for the body horror in this one, but it was very gripping and held my interest. Some of the pacing was off in places (like the romance), but had a very creepy atmosphere that did it for me. 3.8 out of 5 stars!

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio (thriller-mystery): A thriller about a group of Shakespeare actors in their last year of college and one of their classmates who turns up dead. I enjoyed the murder mystery part of this novel more than I expected despite the fact I had guessed who had “done it” pretty early on. I really enjoyed the James-Oliver dynamic with its growing homoeroticism, but I didn’t like how the character of Meredith was handled at all. She felt like a one-note aside. I might have given this book four stars, but the ending was EXTREMELY frustrating for me and I did not like the “open-ended” conclusion. 3 out of 5 stars.

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman (literary humor): a weird character-driven comedy about an old grumpy man and a new family that moves in next to him. Warning for themes of suicide. Anyway, I don’t normally indulge in cliches like “I laughed, I cried, I loved one Cat Annoyance.” However, that’s exactly what I did. I laughed out loud, I cried my eyes out (THE CAT’S HEAD WAS IN HIS PALM), I loved this book. It was sweet and compelling and thoroughly immersive. 5 out of 5 stars!

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow (historical fantasy): set in the early 1900s comes a story of a young girl and her experience with “Doors” that lead to different worlds. This book had a lot of great character development and really interesting descriptions, however, I didn’t like it as much as I wanted to. I found it hard to get myself to sit down a read it. There was just something missing with the push to “page-turn,” but it was still a really good book. 3.7 out of 5 stars!

Gideon the 9th by Tamsyn Muir (high fantasy, kinda gay): I AM FILLED WITH EMOTIONS. This was book was definitely a page-turner. I was very confused with it at the beginning, but the characters and their interactions were, forgive the expression, the life blood of the story and kept me wholly invested. The ending has CRUSHED my heart, but damn did I have a good time reading it. 4.5 out of 5 stars!

Harrow the 9th by Tamsyn Muir (sequel to Gideon the 9th): I really enjoyed this book. It was just as strange and twisting as the first book, though I think I enjoyed the first one a bit more since I love Gideon. It was fun ride overall, though the ending was kind of really confusing. So 4 out of 5 stars.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (historical fiction): Overall, I really enjoyed this book! The writing style was personable and grounded in reality. I found myself really liking the main characters and the exploration of the life of a bi main character was really well done I thought. A solid book with drama and glamor to boot. 4.6 out of 5 stars!

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah (historical fiction): A story of two sisters during WWII and their resistance to Nazi occupation. To be honest, this book wasn’t my cup of tea. It was compelling, but also wholly depressing and I felt like gloried in the pain of the two main characters too much. The history was wonderful and realistic, but it didn’t make me feel anything good afterward. It was just dark. 3 out of 5 stars.

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston (mlm romance): I finally finished this after the heaviness of The Nightingale. This is a story of the First Son of the USA falling for the prince of England. And it turned out to be a very fun and light hearted read! Some of it was kinda generic and too political, and it coulda been shorter, but I thought the romance itself made up for it. It just made me feel so sweet and lovely inside. 4 out of 5 stars!

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman (literary humor): I’m searching out heartfelt books and this one ticked off all the marks on my “sweet” list. A lovely book that made me cry more times than I would like to admit. Compassionate beyond belief, funny and heartfelt. I think I enjoyed A Man Called Ove slightly more, but this book was also dear to me and something I hope to reread in the future. 4.2 out of 5 stars!

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel (sci-fi): A post-apocalyptical story about a group of traveling Shakespeare actors and a symphony. Overall, an excellent read that somehow pictures a more realistic or even softer version of the apocalypse. At first, I wasn't happy with the jumping around of the story, but as I progressed I grew fonder and fonder of the interwoven characters and their journey. A very fascinating read about a world that hits a little too close to home. The appreciation of the arts and preserving humanity was somehow very hopeful and I was fully engaged with this story. 5 out of 5 Stars!

Up next: The Hidden Life of Trees by by Peter Wohlleben (nonfiction science), The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin (urban fantasy), The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (fantasy)

#I'll keep this list updated!#am reading #bookblr #IA talks #I've mostly read books I've really liked this year!#then again I rarely finish books I don't like

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synthapostate · 10 months

Text

Back At The WIP List

Because I had some wild ideas but I forgot to write them down. One of these days I must get organizized.

Resist Psychic Death - Possessed Newt. :(

Like Cats and Dogs - Was supposed to be about getting a post-precursor possession emotional support pet. Inexplicably became non-Uprising-compliant lazy Sunday married couple sex fest, only it is becoming increasingly apparent that I'm never going to get to the sex. Scrapped.

The Tropes Nobody Asked For - A bodyswap AU. Comedy. Hurt/comfort.

I could be writing sweaty nerd sex like a normal person but no - Mostly a story about self-image. Angst. Fluff. There is no plot. Some kind of stream of consciousness BS. (Complete in the sense that anything can be complete given continuity of identity within linear flow of time.) It wasn't complete. Turns out I'm writing sweaty nerd sex but not like a normal person. Scrapped.

Decontamination Shower - A lab accident makes things weird. (Still not sure where I was going with this but now everybody's naked cute, so.)

Fear of Flying - A deep dive into my aerospace engineering special interest, technically includes a lot of hand-holding. (This one's really taking off.) (Oh no, it's stalled.) (These jokes are just plane bad.) Scrapped this one too.

Heating Pad - A cat adopts Hermann.

Thriller - The Shatterdome is kind of spooky at night.

Pillow Talk - There was only one bed, mistaken for dating, fake relationship. I almost had it, but I think the final chapter is going off the rails.

Miserable, Lonely and Depressed (Pathetic) - The return of Cool Uncle Newt. (He's not cool, he's possessed.)

Vampire AU - I mean obviously I had to write a vampire AU at some point. (Comedy.)

Whump - Was supposed to be about a car accident, but it turned into emotional hurt/comfort. With pie.

Some Days You Just Can't Get Rid of a Bomb - Newt tries to solve capitalism.

Retail Horror Stories - Newt and Hermann commiserate over the shitty jobs they worked when they were younger. (Maybe scrapped because honestly no one needs my nonfiction about MegaKaren.) Scrapped because people are gross.

The Graves Stood Tenantless - Comedy, it was SUPPOSED TO BE A COMEDY Death of a major character. 50k word novella about grief APPARENTLY. (Newt mistakes Crimson Peak for a romcom.)

Nightmares - Ghost drift bleeds into their dreams.

Cold as Ice - Hurt/Comfort? Something. Contains no hurt/comfort and has nothing to do with cold or ice, but...it's...something.

Newt's Passion - A sex pollen fic. (No, it isn't.) (Zom com.)

Other, Funnier Ghost Story - Will it be a comedy this time? Let's find out. It is a comedy but it's about vampires now. OH GOD. Not a ghost story, not remotely funny. Vampires, full horror. I'm tempted to resurrect my old pen name for this one. (Y.A. Gorefest, Jr.)

Fever All Through the Night - Sick fic. All comfort.

Consent is Sexy - A team-building exercise leads to certain confessions that would not be made while sober.

Some Sign to Pursue a Promise - Hermann overthinks everything. A story of missed connections. (Complete.)

The Moon Turned to Gold - Newt is desperate to impress his old classmates. Good thing he has this amazing new husband to show off. (A comedy.) (Zine fic!)

Cold as Ice 2: Alaskan Boogaloo - Does have something to do with cold and ice.

The Worst Thing I Can Possibly Imagine - My genuine attempt to work through something, but then I thought of a punchline so now it's a funny little shitpost.

Splash - A...feelings thing. The first tentative steps toward getting along.

Caffeine Blues - I swore I would never write a coffee shop au, but...

Fields of Azure - Newt and Hermann are sent on an outdoorsy team-building retreat with some rangers (possibly by mistake) and both turn out to be full of surprises. Pure fluff.

Stop You Have Enough WIPs - Some silly fluff for these stressful times.

Shoes - Newt's past catches up with him. Hermann is intrigued.

Groundhog Day - Hey man, these sci fi tropes exist for a reason.

Turning Cursive Letters Into Knives - I swore I would never write a soulmate au, but...

Newt and Hermann Go On Six Dates - I write fluff now 😊💖

Hermann Gets Shot - It is so dangerous to start a fight in an elevator when one of the people you're fighting has a gun.

Return to Sender - Newt leaves Hong Kong to work for Shao. Angst.

Find Me in the Drift - Some very disorganized ramblings that might be a sequel to Dinner With a Friend.

The Curse of Gottlieb Manor - In which I actually try to write horror on purpose, and give myself the most intense nightmares I've had in years. I'm toning it down for the actual story.

Dead Letter Office - Hermann's last letter comes back to haunt him.

Painting the Kitchen - About finding a future after the apocalypse is averted.

Total Eclipse of the Heart - Jake Pentecost doesn't trust Newt, decides to keep a close eye on him to guard Hermann's back, and accidentally ends up with two new dads.

Black and White Cookies - Birthday fluff.

A Kidnapping - Um...it's a kidnapping.

Wake Up, Dr. Jones! - More trauma.

Secret Santa - Christmas fluff.

Space Opera - When the first kaiju comes through the breach, Newt fires off a plea for help into deep space. There can't be just one alien race out there, right? Maybe some of them will be on our side.

#fic

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mandoalorian · 4 years

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hi i’d like max x reader where he’s having very stressful day at work like everything that can go wrong does go wrong and the reader is his gf and bc of all this stuff going wrong he forgets that she’s supposed to visit him at work so she comes in and starts talking about her day and how great it was and then he just shoots up and goes to hug her and starts kissing her and playing with her hair and she’s like ??? cause this never happens and he just lays his head on her lap and he rants about his day and she listens and she tries to comfort him as best she can thank u 🥺

Rough Day At Work [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Author's note: Oh. my god. This is a long one. I write a lot of Maxwell fluff but this one is by far one of my favourites. It's a journey of pure, unadulterated sweetness with a sliver of comedy. And it's set at Christmas— perfect to get you in the festive mood! Reblogs appreciated because this isn't showing up in tags.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: food mention, drink mention, brief allusions to sex, Maxwell is ~stressed~.

Rating: PG-13

Masterlist in pinned! Requests open x

Maxwell Lord had his fair share of bad days. Things almost always went wrong in his line of work, but it was almost never his fault. He could always squander up an excuse or find someone else to blame. But today it was one thing after another.

He was late. He had a meeting with the board team first thing but as the Christmas traffic filled the bustling roads of DC, he had already missed the first twenty five minutes of the conference. He practically fell out of the black limo that drove him to work every morning, plodging his feet through the thick layers of snow. It was so deep this morning, the ice cold water seeped through his leather Armani shoes and even through his favourite cashmere socks. The ones with little purple polka dots. He shivered uncomfortably as the clumps of ice sat in between his toes, melting, and so every footstep made an obscene squelching noise. He didn't have the time to fuss around and change his shoes. The bottoms of his tailored pants were dripping. He bolted through the glass revolving doors of Black Gold Cooperative, trailing a pool of water behind him. His receptionist Anna, and his assistant Raquel, stood up abruptly, their eyes widening as they saw their boss in such a hurried frenzy.

"Mr Lord! You have your nine o’ clock meeting and it’s now nine twenty-” Raquel raised her hand and called for him, but he didn't bother to stop in his tracks.

"Yes Raquel, I know!" Maxwell yelled after her, already tapping his feet impatiently as he waited for the elevator. "Cmon, cmon…" he grumbled as it slowly made its way down from the 25th floor to the ground floor.

When Maxwell entered the board meeting, his cheeks were a rosy pink from the cold winter weather. His eyes were glazed and the waves in his dark blonde hair were falling out of place. He had styled it perfectly this morning, the same way he did it every morning. You had even helped him, brushing through his locks when he had hopped out the shower. But now he looked as though he had just run a marathon, breaking out in a cold sweat. He swore if he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he'd have a heart attack. But surely, the day couldn't get any worse. Right? Maxwell had made it to the meeting, albeit late. At least he was there.

Wrong.

"I am so sorry." he scrambled, plopping his briefcase down on the table and slipping past the many occupied chairs. He slumped down in one eventually, pulling out in a notepad and pen. "Bad traffic," he huffed. "Can someone give me the lowdown?"

He eventually looked up to see his company. Twelve older ladies in pink button down dresses and white frilly aprons, their hair tied back into matching low buns. Maxwell froze up, his gaze wandering from woman to woman as it slowly began to sink in.

"Mr Lord…" the woman at the head of the table said cautiously. She looked just as baffled. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've worked for Black Gold Cooperative for five years now but never did I expect to see you in person."

Maxwell looked back at the other girls who were all nodding in agreement, beaming with excitement. "Uh." He didn't know what to say, but instead, he placed his pen and notepad back into the inside of his suit jacket pocket and stood up. "I think- I think I'm in the wrong meeting." he announced.

"We are the body of staff who are responsible for the cleanliness and hygiene of your company sir. We spend ten hours a day washing and tidying every surface, every inch of this building. We take great care of it." one of the ladies spoke up and Maxwell became even more confused. Although clearly, on a day like this, it didn't take much to confuse him.

"The cleaning staff have meetings in here?" He wondered out loud, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left his lips. He didn't want to come off as rude. "I mean, I'm your employer. Pft, of course I know that you have meetings. And I'm glad you do so. It's good to take direction!" he was doing that motivational voice he used on television, making the 60 year old cleaners swoon with admiration. "I- I should get going but. Uh, yes. Lovely to meet you all."

"Mr Lord!" A lady with ebony hair and crinkles by her eyes stood up, handing Maxwell his briefcase. He nodded appreciatvely and walked to the door where her hand met his arm and stopped him in his tracks. "Could I get your autograph, please? I'm just a huge fan of your infomercials."

Maxwell checked the time on his wristwatch. Almost half an hour late, but he couldn't deny one of his cleaners. Once upon a time he wouldn't have bothered giving them a second glance yet he leaned over the table and signed his name on a sticky note. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Pamela," she beamed brightly.

"Nice to meet you Pamela, have a good day." he pat her shoulder and went open the door when another voice yelled his name.

"Mr Lord!" a woman with white hair stood up, a grin pinned on her face. "I'm Doris," she introduced confidently, but her voice was shaky with her old age. "I remember when your father was on the television. I used to clean for him too, you know? Oh, he was such a lovely gentleman. And you look more and more like him every day. Such a handsome man, you are."

Maxwell stiffened up, his hand grabbing the door handle so hard he was sure his knuckles might've turned white. "Oh," was the only thing that could really leave his lips. He wanted to leave.

"Mr Lord, your father I mean-, every Christmas he'd give little old me a kiss," she recalled, her heart blooming at the memory. "Of course I wasn't old then. I was young. And beautiful."

Maxwell exhaled and nodded his head, unsure of really what to say or where this conversation was going. All he could think about was the board meeting that he was already extremely late for. Maxwell pushed down on the door handle and Doris let out a long dramatic sigh, making Maxwell pause once again to hear what she had to say. "I haven't been kissed like that, by a man as attractive as your father, in years." she sighed longingly, fluttering her eyelashes.

That was when Maxwell realised. He sighed quietly, his eyes scanning the room. All the cleaners were staring at him, expecting him to make his move on poor old Doris. Then, he turned back to Doris and offered her that familiar Hollywood smile. The same smile that the whole world was used to seeing on five o'clock television. He took her hand and brushed a soft kiss over her wrinkled knuckles before gently dropping her hand again. There was no denying the pink blush that coloured her cheeks. The action earned a few squeaks and squeals around the room and while they were all babbling with excitement about what they'd just witnessed happen to their friend Doris, Maxwell took the opportunity to run.

He did finally make it to the meeting. He squeezed past his business associates, trying to locate his chair around the table. In the process, he knocked over a cup of coffee. It spilled all over Maxwell, and one of his colleagues. Maxwell's pale blue suit jacket was now stained with brown espresso, and he knew it would take more than just a few washes to get the stain out. He muttered a small 'sorry' before finding his seat and taking out his notepad and pen. Just as he finished writing the date at the top of his piece of paper, the director of the meeting called it quits and everyone flustered out of the room.

All this had happened and it was only ten in the morning.

Luckily, that was the only meeting of the day and he knew he was going to be spending the rest of the day in his office doing paperwork. That was easy enough. Maxwell padded into his enormous office which took up the entirety of the top floor at Black Gold Cooperative headquarters. He shut the double doors, finding peace in knowing that there was no need for anyone to come in and distract him. Maxwell tugged off his blazer and hung it on the back of a chair. He unclipped his suspenders that held his tailored pants up, and threw them to one side, along with his shoes and soaked socks. He padded into the closet at the back of his office and shuffled out of his pants, changing into some grey sweatpants.

He smiled, beginning to feel warm again. Wearing the sweatpants reminded him of you and it made him feel like he was at home. He remembered a few weeks into your relationship; your surprise when you caught a glimpse of his wardrobe. Not a single piece of casual wear in sight. You wondered if Maxwell Lord had ever known the comfort of sweatpants and so, that afternoon, you went out and bought him a pair. They changed his life. Maxwell would always favour his suits, that's just who he was, but he would love to wear the sweats when he wanted to lounge about in the house.

He was tired. His hair was still damp, the dark blonde waves curling at the nape of his neck and falling out of place every time he tried to remedy it. He still smelled vaguely of espresso, and was still haunted by the interaction of Doris the cleaner. He pursed his lips together into a thin line at the memory of kissing her hand.

Maxwell walked over to his desk and sunk into his chair, holding his head in his hands. Finally some peace.

Until there was a loud knock at the door. Maxwell swung his head back and groaned. "Come in!" he shouted, quickly composing himself for whoever wished to see him. It was his blonde assistant, Raquel.

"Hi sir!" she beamed, waving her free hand and placing a glossy catalogue on the table.

"Raquel." Maxwell nodded politely, sitting up and looking at the catalogue she had positioned before him.

"For the Christmas gala," she explained, flicking open the pages and pointing out different things. She'd carefully highlighted and labelled everything she wanted to show him, making it easier for his conveience. "I was thinking huge black and gold balloons with the company name on. Gold confetti. Banners and streamers hanging from every corner. A buffet, and every table cloth will also have the company's name on, printed in small, glitter ink." Her loud and chatty voice was giving Maxwell a headache.

"Yeah, balloons with Black Gold Cooperative written on really scream ‘Have a Very Merry Capitalist Christmas’." he sighed, slowly looking up at her. She blinked a few times. "Well Raquel?" he quizzed, growing irritable. It wasn't her fault, it's just everything was beginning to build up. She blinked again, dumbfounded by his comment. "Is that what Christmas is about to you?"

"W-what do you mean?" she asked nervously, removing her hand from the catalogue and taking a step back from his desk.

"What about red and green balloons? We'll have a Christmas tree in the ballroom. We could even make it family friendly and hire a Santa Claus for the kids to meet." Maxwell suggested. "And no weird company merchandise."

Raquel blinked, not saying a word. It had never really dawned on Maxwell how much you had changed him. His staff realised practically instantly— from the moment he came into work after the first time you had spent the night, it was like he was a changed man. He held the door open for people, he wished people a good morning. And as your relationship with him developed, you opened up a brand new side to him. He became more affectionate and caring for those around him, a feeling he had shut off from the world for his entire life.

He had never cared for Christmas, never cared as much to host a Christmas gala either. His father died during the festive season and it hadn't been the same without him. His mother didn't do much to celebrate. Maxwell had everything he always wanted; all the new toys and fanciest designer clothes. But it meant nothing to him without his father. Christmas meant nothing to him without love. That's why it all changed when he met you. You finally brought love back into his life, and everything felt whole again. You completed him. You taught him how to enjoy events and celebrate. You taught him happiness but most importantly, you taught a cold and broken man how to love and be loved in return.

The Christmas gala was your idea. One night, around a month ago, you and Maxwell were both lying in bed together. Maxwell had expressed to you that he wanted to do something special for his staff at work. Over the past few years since he had met you, he'd slowly been softening with the people around him. Christmas time was no different and his staff were always jolly to receive a hefty bonus from him. But they didn't expect anything more.

You came up with the idea of a gala, and Maxwell couldn't help but smirk a little when you mentioned it. He knew that your suggestion was deeply rooted into the fact you had always wanted to attend a gala, wear a beautiful dress and have your hair and makeup done. More importantly, you wanted to go to a gala with Maxwell and have him by your side looking as handsome as ever. The prospect excited you so much. With Maxwell, you knew that you wanted for nothing. That he could give you anything and everything. But you would never ask. You wanted him to know that for as long as he was with you, you had everything you needed.

Normally for Maxwell, gala’s were a place for adults only. Bars that served the best alcohol and a place where men who were just as rich as him would meet and schmooze. Before you, gala’s were a fine opportunity for Maxwell to meet a lady and take her home. That's all he enjoyed them for. But you had taught Maxwell that there was more to life than wealth, women and good champagne. He was so sure you'd love the idea of turning the gala into a family friendly party, and he was certain that his employees (the likes of the cleaning staff, for example) would love the ability to bring their families to such a high class event.

"Don't worry Raquel," Maxwell smiled. "Forget about the party planning for now. I know someone who would love to organise the Christmas gala." Today was tough, but everytime he thought about you, he couldn't wipe the grin from his face. He was one lovesick puppy. "Could you bring me a coffee?"

Raquel nodded and picked the catalogue back up, padding out his office without saying another word.

At around twelve o’clock, Maxwell was about to take his lunch break- but the phone on his desk began to ring. "Maxwell Lord." he introduced himself, holding the phone to his ear. It was the CEO of Powergrid Electrics, an electrical company in Rome. Rude and unhinged, the boss man reminded Maxwell of a version of himself that he had left in the past.

Maxwell had almost sealed an amazing deal with the company, but it had seemed that the CEO hadn't received a vital part of the contract. Trying to regulate the anger that was building up inside of him, Maxwell shakily put the phone back on the hook and called his second assistant, Emmerson, into his office.

"It's impossible," Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows together in bewilderment, after explaining the situation. He scrambled amongst the papers that were stacked mountain high on his desk. "I put it in the envelope and had Raquel send it off to Rome last week. I remember… I know I didn't forget. I never forget." he said, trying to sound as composed and confident as possible. There was no mistake in the worried little warble in his voice, though.

Emmerson, Maxwell's second assistant, wasn't sure if he was going to regret his next move. "Sir," his voice was timid and small. Maxwell's eyes snapped up to meet Emmerson's and Emmerson felt his heart rate increase rapidly. Emmerson reached over Maxwell's desk, picking up a folded piece of paper with a sticky note on top that read 'For Raquel: give to Rome'. "Is it possible that this is the missing part of the contract? That maybe, you might have just, forgotten to give it to Raquel?" he said slowly, trying to beat around the bush as much as possible.

Maxwell slowly reached over to the slip of paper, unravelling it like he was scared to see what the contents would reveal. He sighed out loud when he realised he had, in fact, forgotten to give Raquel the document, and there was no one to blame but himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, contemplating what to do next. He didn't want to believe he was out of options. He wasn't one to give up, especially when it came to the sanctity of his business.

"I need you to go to Rome." He said immediately and Emmerson's jaw dropped.

"I- I'm sorry?" Emmerson quizzed, confused and still slightly afraid of how impulsive Maxwell was being. "With all due respect, can't you just call Rome and ask for an extension on the deadline?"

Maxwell scoffed. "Call Rome? I can't just call a country," Emmerson was about to interject to explain that wasn't exactly what he meant but Maxwell didn't allow it. There was something about the way Maxwell's brain worked… he didn't get where he was today from taking the advice of his assistants. "You will go to Rome and give Powergrid Electrics the remaining part of the contract yourself. I trust you."

"But sir-" Emmerson raised a shaky hand.

"Oh, I see, you're worried about accomodation," Maxwell assumed, chuckling lightly. "I'll get you a five star hotel and give you a spending allowance of three hundred euros a day, how does that sound? No need to fret. Hurry along now."

"Mr Lord," Emmerson deadpanned finally, causing Maxwell to look up at his assistant in bewilderment. Emmerson was still afraid of his boss, of course, but he knew he had to stand his ground. "I can't go to Italy."

There were a few beats of silence. "What?" Maxwell questioned. "Don't be ridiculous. It's a free trip of a lifetime. You have an easy job to do. You can spend the rest of the day souvenir shopping. I don't care. Just get the contract delivered." He ordered.

"No." Emmerson put his foot down.

"No?" Maxwell repeated, raising his eyebrows like he was due an explanation.

"Mr Lord, I didn't want to say anything because it seems… you've had a lot going on today. But my girlfriend, Katherine, she's due our baby. See, we're having a son. I'm not sure if you knew… I mean, you probably didn't know. But, I promised Katie- uh, Katherine, that I'd meet her at the hospital after my shift. I wish I could help you sir, I really do. But I love my girlfriend and I've been waiting nine months to meet our son so if you please-"

The old Maxwell Lord would've burned red with rage, firing poor Emmerson on the spot, right then and there. How dare he question Maxwell. How dare he deny Maxwell. How dare he choose his love life, his family over his job. But right now, Maxwell couldn't help the small smile creep upon his lips. He was overjoyed, just wishing Emmerson had told him of the amazing news before now.

"Congratulations," Maxwell said, his voice quiet but his eyes gleaming. "On the addition of your family. That's really great."

Emmerson stood as still as ever, blinking a few times. He waited for Maxwell to snap and finally lose it. He was waiting to get the sack. But nothing. "Uh, thank you, sir." Emmerson replied hesitantly, like he wasn't sure what to expect from Maxwell.

The following few moments of silence, Maxwell spent thinking about you. He thought about how radiant you glowed this morning and how he wished he didn't have to leave your side. You were the love of his life and quite frankly, since meeting you, he understood the priority of choosing love over wealth. He finally had someone he could hold onto during the dead of night, someone to ramble to about his feelings, someone he could kiss and love and cherish forever.

Maxwell Lord finally loved something more than his business and that was you. Emmerson coughed awkwardly, breaking the silence and Maxwell flicked his wrist up, checking the time on his gold Rolex. It was almost twelve thirty.

"Why are you still here?" Maxwell grinned, swinging his hand to point a finger towards the door. "Go! You have a son to meet!"

"Sir, I don't finish until five o’ clock." Emmerson replied, stiffening up.

"No no no! Go home, go see your girlfriend, please." Maxwell stood up and shook his assistants hand. "I have no doubt you'll be an amazing father," he said genuinely. "And I'll have Y/N send over some flowers and a donation after the birth."

"You- you're really letting me off work early?" Emmerson beamed and Maxwell nodded his head enthusiastically. "Oh how can I ever thank you?"

"I hear Maxwell is a popular choice of name for baby boys right now," the CEO charmed and Emmerson let out a small but genuine laugh. "Now go! Tell Katherine I send my love."

"I will do, thank you sir." Emmerson grinned, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack and merrily running out of the office.

Maxwell sunk into the plushness of his leather chair, still unable to escape the smile that played on his lips. He imagined the possibility of you, the love of his life, carrying his child. He thought about how beautiful you would look, how you'd glow, and how he'd simply give up everything to take care of you. Make sure you had everything you needed during your pregnancy. He imagined building the nursery with you and picking out some books on parenting, studying with you so he could ensure that he'd be the best father ever. He'd never wanted kids. In fact he hated the idea of having little mini Maxwell’s running around and causing fuss and torment, but the idea of you raising them alongside him made his heart flutter. He was certain of the unconditional love you’d have for them. Similar to the unconditional love he had for you.

His eyes darted back to the unsent report on his desk and he sighed. Guess I have to call Rome after all. He thought.

Maxwell was counting the minutes until he could go home and see you. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on the sofa with you, the fire on, and watch one of those cheesy Christmas movies you liked so much. He heard the doors to his office open, frustration racing through him as he prepared himself for the next bout of 'things going wrong'. He'd normally yell at someone if they entered his office without knocking but he was so tired. So so tired.

When he saw you, he swore his heart stopped. There you were, his blessing in disguise. His angel. You were wearing your red winter coat and knee high brown boots, and you plopped your purse and a bag on one of the many side tables in his office. You took off your gloves and pulled off your wooly bobble hat, stuffing them lazily in your pocket and offered him a happy smile. He scrambled to his feet, not taking his eyes off you for a second and ran up to you, sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around. You squealed, grabbing onto him for your life and he put you down, pulling you into a tight warm hug.

"You're freezing cold." he grimaced, pulling your hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants in hope they'd warm up.

"It's snowing again." you whispered happily, smiling into his neck. He was delighted, having you in his arms and being able to smell the familiarity of your shampoo and perfume. He knew for sure now, he was going to be okay.

"I can see." he replied, moving one of his hands up to your face and padding out the pearly snowdrops that were balanced in your hair. "I am so glad to see you sweetheart." he hummed, sending vibrations through your body. You felt your heart blossom in your chest at his sentiment.

"I told you I was coming this morning," you giggled, eventually pulling away from him and taking your arms out of his pockets. You cupped his face and ran your fingers through his dark blonde hair, fixing it as best as you could. "I brought us lunch." you told him, fishing into the bag and bringing out boxes of pastries and cakes. "From that bakery we like."

Maxwell gasped and you looked up at him confused. "Baby, I completely forgot you were coming."

"I hate to say Max but you do look a little disheveled," you folded your arms across your chest and checked out your boyfriend's appearance. "What's with the sweats and… where is your tie and suspenders?" Your eyes met his feet on the floor and they widened almost comically. "Max! Where are your socks and shoes?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "Long story." he took your hand and pulled you over to the couch, pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around him and he placed a hand on your thigh, pushing under your skirt and rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"Tell me everything." you replied and he looked up at you with nothing but adoration in his brown eyes.

"Traffic jam on the way to work because of the snowstorm last night, and the streets were so busy with it being so close to Christmas. We couldn't get parked out front so I had to get out of the car and walk through five inches of snow to get into work. I was already late for my meeting. Soaking wet and uncomfortable," you let him ramble on, watching intently at the way his expression would change as he recalled different events in his day. You began to play with his hair, seeing that he was getting flustered at the memory of it all. "I was late for the meeting, I ended up in a whole different meeting. I didn't know the cleaners in this building even had meetings!"

"The cleaners?" you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. "You sat in on a meeting with the cleaners?" Maxwell nodded sollemnley and you nudged him playfully. "I love that."

"Well, I didn't. They're all lovely women. But this one cleaner, Doris…" he fumbled around with his fingers. "I ended up kissing her." you pulled away quickly, knotting your eyebrows together. "No! No not like that," Maxwell said quickly, pulling you back onto his lap and wrapping his arm around you. "She's like 90, said she used to work for my father and every Christmas he'd give her a kiss. She'd start talking about how she's never had a kiss from someone as handsome as my father in years. So I gave her a polite one, on her hand. And baby, I ran. As fast as I could, I had to get outta there."

You smiled. "Max, you probably made her day. That was really sweet of you."

He brushed off your comment, taking a dramatic exhale and continuing his story. "Finally got to the meeting, spilled coffee over myself and one of my associates. But by the time I had finally settled, the meeting was over. So I went back to my office and changed out of my wet, cold, coffee stained clothes and sat down. Raquel came in. She was planning the Christmas gala but it all sounded so… corporate. Not what Christmas is about at all," he explained and you nodded in agreement. "Anyways I suggested that we change the gala this year so it's family friendly. In the spirit of Christmas."

"Oh Max!" you beamed, snuggling into his chest. He smiled to himself proudly, knowing that he had made you happy.

"You good with that?" he chuckled, running his fingers through your hair.

"Yes!" you squeaked, pushing yourself back up and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "I have so many ideas."

"That's great honey," he laughed. "Because I told Raquel to forget about the gala. I figured you could plan it. You're great at stuff like that, and I know how much it means to you. I want the gala to be perfect for my staff and their families, and I trust you more than anyone else in the world."

"I can't wait," you smiled merrily, already weighing up the different ideas you had in your head. "Was Raquel okay with you taking the party planning duty away from her?"

"I think so," Maxwell replied. "She has a lot on her plate, being my assistant and all. It's a busy time of year and I think she'd appreciate having less to do."

"Well, it really does sound like you've had an eventful morning."

"Oh, I'm not finished," Maxwell grimaced and you braved yourself for the impending chaos. "Rome called and told me that the CEO of Powergrid Electrics only received half of the binding contract. So I was going to send Emmerson to Rome because I needed that contract in the hands of the CEO by midnight tonight. But Emmerson told me he couldn't. His girlfriend is having his baby today. A little boy. So I let him go home early."

"Emmerson's going to be a father?" you gasped and Maxwell nodded. "That's so wonderful! I should send him some flowers."

"I already told Emmerson you would." Maxwell grinned.

"Oh a baby boy too! How lovely. We have to go meet the baby when he's born. Please please please." you whined, fluttering your eyelashes.

"Okay darling." Maxwell pressed a kiss into your cheek.

You stood up and brought the bag over to the couch, taking out the little boxes and handing them to Maxwell. You opened them up and started to eat, as you told him how your morning had gone.

"After you went to work, I cleared up and did the dishes that you had left from breakfast. Max, I was soooo tired from last night," you blushed and his mouth twisted into a proud smile. "So I went back to bed and slept for another hour. Then I got up and took a bubble bath. Oh!" you scrambled around in your purse, taking out a fresh Polaroid and showed him it. It was a photograph of his white long haired cat, Lady, with bubbles balancing on her head. "She kept me company while I was in the bath." you smiled and Maxwell laughed.

"She looks so funny with the bubbles on her head." Maxwell took the Polaroid from your fingers and admired the cat. He was never particularly fond about animals, or having pets, but you loved them. In the first year of your relationship, Maxwell asked what you wanted for your birthday. As always, you told him that you didn't want anything materialistic, that he was all you needed. But you did tell him about an animal charity that you were so passionate about. He remembered leaving you at home and telling you that he was simply 'heading out'. He had planned on visiting the charity and making a donation in your name, as part of your birthday present. But he didn't leave the shelter empty handed.

A white fluffy cat with long whiskers and big blue eyes. Her eyes reminded him of sapphires. She mewled and padded towards him, her tail waving happily as she rubbed her cheek on his leg, circling around him. "Ah, she's a darling," the lady who was showing Maxwell around told him. "Unfortunately, she's been here with us longer than any of the other cats. She's not that good around people. But I must admit, she likes you a lot. In fact, I've never seen her so confident around another person before."

Maxwell dropped to his knees and tickled her head. She began purring erratically, rubbing her face along the edges of the rings on his fingers. "Nobody wants her?" Maxwell asked, not taking his eyes from the happy kitty. He picked her up, ignoring the white cat hair that malted onto his suit. She rubbed her soft face against his cheek and sniffed his cologne.

"No." the lady replied sadly. Maxwell smiled.

"I'll take her."

And that night, Maxwell came home with a new addition to the family. You were overjoyed, but no one was happier than little Lady Lord who had found her fur-ever home.

He placed the Polaroid on one of the side tables, promising you he would find a frame for it. "How was your bath darling?" he cooed, pressing his lips along your jaw.

You giggled, nuzzling your head into his shoulder. "Relaxing, lit some candles, done a little reading. After my bath I got dressed and tidied up the bedroom. I turned on the radio and they were playing Christmas songs. Oh! WHAM have just brought out a new one, it's really good. Hmm, me and Lady played for a little while and she let me brush her hair. Jeeves offered to drive me to the bakery but I really wanted to walk in the snow. Get some fresh air. And now I'm here! With you!"

It was safe to say Maxwell's morning was a lot more chaotic, but he was comforted knowing that you had been relaxed while he was going through all the antics.

"Your morning sounded amazing, darling." he kissed your forehead and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You let his lips brush over your skin, fall down to your nose, and eventually take place on your own lips as he leaned his forehead against yours. You giggled, his hair falling out of place again slightly and tickling you as he kissed you. You pulled him closer, encouraging him to deepen the kiss and laced your fingers in his hair. He pulled away to catch his breath but peppered small yet passionate kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“You’re being so affectionate,” you smiled, eyes sparkling with love.

“What can I say? I like to kiss you.” Maxwell exhorted and leaned in again, pressing another kiss into your lips. This time he swiped his tongue along the plumpness of your bottom lip, begging for entry. You pulled off him and he moaned. “Whaaat?” He pouted playfully and you rolled your eyes, earnestly laughing at how cute your boyfriend was.

“We shouldn’t do this at work,” you giggled.

“Baby we’ve done a lot worse than just kissing on this sofa, if you remember.” Maxwell charmed and you felt your cheeks heat up as you nodded slowly.

"The highlight of my day though, is being here, with you." you promised.

"Yeah," Maxwell hummed. "Me too."

"I'm proud of you." you said out of the blue, putting your sandwich down and wiping your mouth. Maxwell looked at you, confused. "You've had a bad morning. But you acted so selflessly today. Everything from signing autographs in your office to kissing that old maids hand, giving Raquel less work to do and letting Emmerson be with his girlfriend. You… you surprise me everyday Max. And I fall in love with you more and more everyday."

"I remember when we first met… I would've never dreamed of doing any of this." Maxwell admitted sheepishly.

"I know, I remember," you recalled. "I fell in love with the man you were then, but I somehow think I love you even more now."

And with that, Maxwell pulled you into a kiss. The curve of his nose nudged against yours and his hands pulled you into his lap, knocking the boxes of food onto the floor as you straddled him. "I love you so much." he announced.

Maxwell rarely said I love you's. But that was okay because you knew he loved you from his actions. You knew he loved you from the small kisses he'd give you on a morning, and the way he'd pull you into a hug every evening after work. You knew he loved you from the way he'd shelter you from paparazzi and squeeze your hand tight whenever you felt overwhelmed. Actions spoke louder than words. But coming from Maxwell Lord, hearing those three words struck you like a bolt of lightning. They were just words, but they meant everything to you.

He meant everything to you.

Permanent taglist~let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first

#max lord x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary: Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears echoes of the birdsong in her laugher, the songs of the gods in the wind.

(Loosely inspired by ‘Your Name’, aka Kimi No Nawa, featuring Haikyuu’s own pretty Tokyo boy)

Wordcount: 3.5k

Masterlist here

AO3 Link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

‘It’s rare to see young men like you buying flowers for their mother’, the florist comments offhand as she wraps his order of yellow chrysanthemums in paper.

Akaashi smiles, accustomed to the friendly florist by now. ‘I guess I’ve always had a partiality for flowers’, waving to the florist as he leaves to head to Shibuya to meet Bokuto for Izakaya. He’s running late, but Bokuto doesn't mind, hooting good naturedly at the comedy show playing on the television in the rundown bar.

‘Agaaaashi, you made it!’ Bokuto rises from his seat to give him a jovial fist bump.

‘Of course I did’, he responds dryly. ‘Wild horses wouldn’t keep me from my appointment with you’. He spends most of dinner listening to Bokuto’s recent exploits both with the national team and MSBY. Excitement still sparkles in the older man’s eyes as he recounts each and every match he’s played in, and Akaashi idly wonders how it is that Bokuto seems to have managed to pack on even more muscle in the short span of a month, the last time they met up was to see Bokuto off at the airport for the World Cup.

‘You should have continued playing volleyball in university’, Bokuto crows in between mouthfuls of yakiniku and beer and Akaashi shakes his head at the refrain he’s so used to hearing from his senpai.

‘I wouldn’t be able to maintain my grades if I wanted to take volleyball seriously in university, plus there’s no guarantee I’d even get off the bench’, he answers self-effacingly.

‘But you have the best tosses, Akaaaaaashi!!’ Bokuto declares, his words slightly slurred, and Akaashi wonders if he should start to inch Bokuto’s beer away from him. After consuming far too much barbecued meat (Bokuto took the liberty of ordering twice of what Akaashi would normally order, waving his protests off by stating grandly that he’ll take care of the bill, he’s the one working after all!), Bokuto slips into a food-drunk stupor, happy to listen to his anecdotes of university life, and he takes the chance to ramble on about his advanced Japanese classical literature course that he finds far more fascinating than his class on modern literature to his best friend.

They stumble out of the izakaya when the line outside grows far too long to be ignored, Bokuto draping a heavy arm over Akaashi’s shoulder, the red tint on the tips of his ears betraying his slightly tipsy state. As they stand at the traffic light patiently waiting for the light to change from red to green, Bokuto turns to him and grasps his shoulders in his large, warm hands.

‘I’m really proud to have you as a friend, Akaashi’, Bokuto tells him seriously. ‘And I’m going to prove to you that I can be the best ace so you can be proud of me too’. The molten gold glimmering in Bokuto’s gaze fills him with far more warmth than any alcohol could possibly achieve.

‘I’m already proud of you, Bokuto-san’, he answers, his earnestness resounding in every word of his short declaration. Bokuto beams at him in response and bounds across the pedestrian walkway in approximately three strides, ignoring Akaashi’s chiding to ‘look before you cross the road, even if you have the right of way!’

Many things may have changed since high school, but some things still stay the same.

His dreams take a strange turn that night.

He’s back in the Fukurodani gym with his teammates, but it’s not accurate to say he’s with them - rather, he’s watching his past self from afar, seated on the bench, a wrist guard on his right arm. He doesn’t remember ever injuring himself enough to warrant a wrist guard at any point during his high school volleyball career, but it’s probably just another oddity of being in a dream.

‘I wish your wrist was feeling better, Akaashi. I miss your tosses already’, the pout in Bokuto’s voice pronounced.

‘It’s just for a while - I’ll be right as rain tomorrow!’ he hears himself say cheerfully - but that doesn’t make sense either. No one in their right mind has ever described the way he speaks as cheerful, and the rest of his teammates glance over at him curiously. Then his past self awkwardly tucks his legs under the bench, ankles crossed almost as if he’d like nothing better than to fold himself away with all the cloth vests they use for practice – but that doesn’t make sense either, he doesn’t even know why he’s behaving like some fish out of water. While volleyball doesn’t come naturally to him as it does to someone like Bokuto-san, and there are times he feels like he’s struggling to swim upstream, his fingers still itch to toss a ball up into the sky in a perfect arc even now.

‘I told you, I don’t get what you insist on waxing lyrical on him being a star you can’t help but follow,’ he hears her voice chime in his consciousness, inexplicable though her presence in this scene may be, he hears himself answer - ‘just be patient and watch’.

Anahori, their substitute setter tosses the ball up in the air and it’s a good toss, he will give him that, but it’s still not quite as high a toss that Bokuto likes. Bokuto runs right up to the net to leap into the air, back arching to slam the ball to the ground with such force that it’s a commanding full stop punctuating any doubts about his place on the team as its captain and ace.

‘You see! When he plays well, he's like a supernova, shining with a light so bright it almost blinds my eyes.’

‘Waxing lyrical again, Keiji-kun?’ He can hear her tease him gently. ‘Go on, carry on with your celestial metaphors’.

‘How about a shooting star then’, he replies, amused. ‘If a shooting star shot up from the earth instead of falling from the sky.’

‘You sound like you like the guy. Are you sure you don’t?’ She asks. ‘You sure sound like you do.’

What?!

His legs are tangled in his sheets when he thrashes awake, mouth open in a gasp for air. That was a new twist in his collection of dreams, the first time he’s dreamt of something other than that phantom girl’s life in months, but even when the dreamscape doesn’t even feature her, she still manages to invade his dream.

Worse - his dreams are now edging into territory he hasn’t mapped out in years. His teenage infatuation with Bokuto-san died a natural death after he realised that he’d mistaken his admiration for the ace for romantic feelings. Besides, there was no way Bokuto-san would ever be in love with him, not when he’d chosen to devote the next decade of his life to his sport. So why are his dreams dragging him deeper into a labyrinth of memories that aren’t even his own?

‘Why are you squandering my pocket money in a maid café of all things’ he says, sounding uncharacteristically put out. But then again he would be annoyed if anyone managed to drag him into the pink and white monstrosity his dream has deposited him into.

Bokuto’s happily seated across from him (or rather, his past self), exclaiming ‘ooh - isn’t the ketchup art on this omurice amazing, Akaashi? They managed to capture my hair so well!’, and to his horror his past self nods encouragingly and only laughs when Bokuto whines about not wanting to destroy this ‘piece of art the maids took so much time to create’ by eating the damn omurice.

‘Don’t be such a killjoy, Keiji-kun’, she giggles. ‘Look at him, he’s having such fun, and besides, your day will reset so your money won’t be wasted anyway!’.

Bokuto, distracted by the catchy beat of the J-pop song blasting over the speakers, is cajoled by a trio of pretty maids to join them on stage to dance along with them. He pops his hips to the beat of the music, throwing up cheesy hand signals with such gusto that it makes him (yes, present day Keiji) want to smile.

But his past self evidently hasn’t lightened up yet, because he hears himself say crossly – ‘You do realise this is a waste of time when we could be doing something more useful like homework, especially since Bokuto-san and I already spend most of our time training?’

‘Oh Keiji-kun, life is too short to be spent worrying like that. Because before you know it, you’ll grow into an old man who doesn’t know how to have any fun’.

‘I have fun’, he says petulantly, a faint sulk in his voice.

‘Oh really? Then stop worrying and live a little. Maybe you should take a leaf out of your beloved Bokuto-san’s book – look how much fun he’s having!’

Bokuto clearly seems to be having the time of his life because now he’s prancing around the stage playing some silly game with the maids.

‘I told you, I don’t think of him that way.’

‘And I’ve told you I’ve borrowed your skin for far too long to know when you’re not telling me the whole truth, Keiji-kun’, she sing-songs. ‘You wished for more time with him, didn’t you, so aren’t I doing a good deed by helping you figure out what Bokuto might like to do with you?’

‘Bokuto-san doesn’t have spare time on these things – and you’re just making an excuse to explore cafes in Tokyo at my expense!’

‘Two birds, one stone. Don’t be pedantic, Keiji-kun!’

The next time he’s back in one of those dreams, he finds his past self dressed in a blue yukata along the Sumida river, tugging Bokuto away from the takoyaki store. He remembers Bokuto dragging him away from the rest of the team on a quest to buy some snacks at the food stalls set up around the park, insisting that his stomach’s growling too loudly to wait until the fireworks display is over ‘come on, even you can hear my stomach at this rate, Akaaashi!!!’ – but that’s where the dream starts to diverge.

‘If you queue for takoyaki, we’re going to miss the fireworks, and you don’t want to miss that, do you Bokuto-san?’ he says, hand firmly on Bokuto’s yukata sleeve.

‘That’s right! But shouldn’t we join the rest of the team? They’ve got a spot by the river just over there!’

‘We won’t get there in time with this crowd – come on! If we hurry, I know the perfect spot to watch the display’, weaving his way through the crowd to shimmy up the trunk of a tree and settle himself comfortably against a large branch.

‘Woah – Akaashi! I never knew you could climb trees!’ Bokuto calls, sounding impressed.

‘Well, don’t stand there, come join me!’

The tree creaks ominously as the larger boy scales its trunk, branches already heavy with red lanterns groaning in protest as he settles himself in the branch opposite Akaashi. And not a moment too soon, because a collective gasp ripples through the crowd along the river as the night sky explodes into rainbow hued fiery streaks.

‘It’s amazing, Akaashi!’ Bokuto hollers with his face tilted up to the sky.

‘You’re amazing, Bokuto-san’, he says fondly, reaching over to bump Bokuto’s shoulder with his fist and the older boy beams at him, the sheer delight in his smile brighter than the fireworks in the sky. There is a sea of stars in his eyes, and Akaashi wants to shrivel in shame at the way his younger self looks like he’s mentally planning to pirate a boat to cross the straits to Bokuto’s heart.

‘There is no way I’m going to do that’ he hears himself say, sounding mildly cross.

‘Eh – it’s cute. ‘sides, doesn’t he look so happy’ he hears her say, sounding overly chipper.

‘You could spend your time instead learning how to play so Bokuto-san won’t pout when you sit out of practice and you wouldn’t have to pretend you sprain your wrist every time we swap.’

‘Are you mad? Do you really think they won’t think something’s up when I can’t even do a simple serve?’

‘Fine. You have a point’, he answers begrudgingly.

‘Of course I do. Come on Keiji, live a little. Enjoy your time with the lodestar of your life’.

‘Can you not say things like that?’ he says dryly.

‘It’s your fault for reading so much Shakespeare to me!’ she replies with a grin in her voice.

He texts Bokuto the minute he wakes up. ‘Bokuto-san, apologies if this seems weird, but do you remember if we ever climbed a tree when we watched fireworks with our team?’

Bokuto takes a while to respond, but that’s to be expected, it’s his mornings are usually filled with practice and conditioning. But when he does respond, his text makes Akaashi’s brow curl. ‘Nope, but sounds fun! What’s up Akaashi!!’

Akaashi drops his head in his palms. Good to know he’s not losing his grip on reality at least.

But his sleep for the following weeks continues to be filled with dreams in the same vein.

He dreams of scenes that have never taken place in real life - him challenging Bokuto-san to ramen eating competition, the older boy winning handily of course, crowing like a child when he slurps the last mouthful of tonkatsu broth - ‘eh Akaashi, eat faster!’, him dragging Bokuto-san to the arcade near school, demolishing middle schoolers in endless games of dance dance revolution (there is no way he is actually able to move like that in real life) and losing far too much money in claw games - ‘Akaashi I really want that toy pleaseeee’ - and even he would admit it’s absolutely adorable if not for the fact that he can’t explain why these dreams keep invading his head like a wildfire that refuses to die.

‘I honestly don’t understand you’, she says and again, why on earth is she in this set of dreams - she doesn’t belong in them -

‘What exactly do you not understand?’

‘If you like him that much, why aren’t you jumping at the chance to hang out with him? All you do is nag me about how I’m wasting his time, I’m wasting your time, but I don’t understand - isn’t time meant to be spent on the people you love? Unless you’re confusing love with admiration, because yes, I get that you admire his talent, but you don’t seem to have all that much patience for spending time with him outside of school.’

‘I suppose I do like him, but…’

‘Finally you admit it, but I don’t like the sound of that word.’

‘It’s nothing’, he finally says, and she huffs in annoyance, clearly wanting him to explain but he stubbornly refuses to say another word.

His past self is skidding down the hallway with Bokuto hot on his heels yelling ‘Akaaashiii you owe me a Yakisoba bunnnnn’ when he hears an almighty crash behind him. As he spins around, Bokuto’s sprawled on the floor, papers and books scattered around him. The older boy grimaces as he sits up, grabbing at his ankle in pain.

‘Bokuto-san, are you ok?’ he cries, running back towards the older boy.

‘I might have twisted my ankle. Argh this is bad - prelims are just next week!’ Bokuto groans, clutching at his ankle desperately.

‘Don’t worry. You’ll be fine tomorrow, trust me’, his past self says with complete certainty, and flags down a passing student to call for a teacher.

‘Look what you’ve done now. Are you happy with yourself?’ he hears himself say accusingly. ‘Everything might reset tomorrow, but look - he’s hurt himself today. Is this what you’ve been trying to prove to me?’

‘I’m sorry, Keiji’ he hears her say, her voice watery. ‘I didn’t think -’

‘Of course you didn’t, you never think about the consequences of your actions, do you?’ he says, glass shards in his words.

His dream fades to black. He never hears her answer.

His sleep remains relatively undisturbed for the next fortnight, just in time for his mid-term exams which he aces, even his course on classical Japanese literature. He’s relieved of course, because his final year grades matter most when it comes to recruitment, yet there’s a part of him that’s buried deep between ventricles and pumping flesh that childishly wonders what his dreams are going to show him next.

His wish is answered when he opens his eyes to an ocean of stars, white pinpricks of light against the vast tapestry of the purple night sky. His head is pillowed on tufts of grass and the wind whispers against his feet.

The sight takes his breath away.

He’s a born and bred city boy, and he knows from experience it’s near impossible to see stars in the city sky amidst light pollution and masquerading satellites.

‘Is this your way of apologising?’ he asks, his voice wry.

‘Is it working yet?’ he hears her ask, an uncharacteristically timid note in her voice. He laughs, a fond sound, and he can hear her huff a breath through her mouth. ‘I am sorry though, Keiji. I never meant to hurt him’.

‘It’s fine, no damage done. Besides, I was thinking about what you said.’

‘Me? About what? I know I’ve said plenty to you so far’, she says curiously.

‘About Bokuto-san’, he supplies, and she stays silent, waiting for him to go on. The stars twinkle down at him, and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine the galaxy reaching down to lend him its infinite strength. ‘You were right about how…I felt about Bokuto-san. I thought what I felt for him was something more than it really was - now I’m starting to realise I just admire his strength, and I don’t see our paths ever converging, especially if he’s going to chase his dreams of going pro all the way’.

‘You don’t have to chase someone else’s light when you’re brilliant in your own right’, she says gently.

‘Thanks’, he answers thickly, as if the word feels a little awkward in his mouth.

‘So -’ she pipes up, and he can tell she’s trying her best to paper over the sudden lapse of silence. ‘Will you tell me stories about the stars, Keiji?’

He laughs fondly, raising a hand to catch the stardust from the sparkling constellations overhead. ‘I could tell you the story of Andromeda, chained to rocks as a sacrifice to satisfy the cruel demands of the sea monster?’

‘Ugh no gory stories, I want a happy ending!’

‘It has a happy ending, I promise. Just be patient and listen, okay?’

Akaashi wakes up before his past self can finish telling the tale of Persues’ rescue of Andromeda from the jaws of defeat. It’s barely three in the morning, but he knows it’s futile to try to go back to sleep. He wanders to the window, and wonders whether the lone star hanging in the cloudy sky is merely a satellite in disguise.

Against his better judgment, he dials Bokuto’s number.

‘What’s up, Akaashi!’ he hears the older man mumble sleepily, sheets rustling.

‘Was it obvious I had a crush on you in high school?’ he asks plainly. If seeking closure is what he needs to end this slew of dreams, then he’s going to do it, never mind the embarrassment thick in the blood in his veins.

‘Huh?’

Akaashi’s pretty sure he can hear Bokuto blink rapidly. ‘A crush on you’, he repeats, and for good measure he adds - ‘sometime in your third year of high school’.

‘Ehhhh…’ Bokuto’s voice trails off over the phone. ‘You did?’

The sigh that trips out of Akaashi’s mouth is worn, weary. ‘I did’, he confirms, embarrassment writhing in his belly.

‘But you stopped right? Just before I graduated? You started becoming distracted after Spring High and I thought you were just worrying about university entrance exams.’

‘I suppose.’ And Akaashi should really get a grip on himself but his dreams have been doing a number on him so to his horror, he starts to ramble. ’ It’s probably the lack of sleep, but look - this sounds really stupid but I was having a lot of really weird dreams and I don’t understand what’s happening but I’m hoping getting this off my chest helps me get some more sleep and I hope you don’t think I’m completely weird and don’t mind still being my friend -’

‘Woah, ‘kaashi, slow down! You’re overthinking again - what, you think I’m not going to be your friend anymore?’ Bokuto booms, laughing widely.

‘Uh. I don’t know?’

‘Relax! I’m flattered, but I think it’s a good thing we never went out! You were already so stressed dealing with me in high school Washio used to joke about your hair falling out, but I’ve changed! Now I’m just an ordinary ace!’

‘Bokuto-san, I don’t think anyone would call you ordinary’, Akaashi interjects, rubbing circles against his temple.

‘You know what I mean!’ Bokuto laughs, the sound so round and boisterous that it makes Akaashi quirk his lips up in affection.

‘Yes, Bokuto-san. Anyway, sorry for disturbing your sleep.’

‘Anytime, Akaashi!’ They bid each other goodnight, and the relief he feels after the call settles on his chest like a blanket, and he falls back to sleep.

Taglist:

@1tooru @kageyamakock @animeflower26 @underrated-fruit-tarts-official

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji x y/n #akaashi keiji #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu imagines #haikyuucreations #haikyuu romance #haikyuu headcanons #hq imagines #hq fluff #haikyuu fic rec #fukurodani #kimi no nawa #your name

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Fuchsia-Colored Sunglasses

Summary:

Your life is turned upside down when you’re transported into another reality by the enigmatic and mysterious old woman named Cyan. You find yourself an up-and-coming makeup artist whose latest client is the cocky fuchsia-haired rockstar Yuta Nakamoto. You struggle to find balance as Yuta is your most difficult client yet and you can’t seem to stop losing things in your apartment.

Meanwhile, Yuta is at the top of his game with his record-breaking band that’s about to tour and his perfect celebrity girlfriend. But he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. When he meets you, however, he finally feels..at home.

In a reality where soulmates so rarely find each other, is it possible that the two of you will see the signs?

Pairing: Rockstar!Yuta x female reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, comedy, a little smut, a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 28.5K

Warnings: profanity, minor character death mention, alcohol mention

(A/N: we are so excited to finally post this for you guys!! It is for a collaborative project (A Colours AU) organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure . THANK YOU so much for inviting us to do this!! Please visit her tumblr for a complete list of all of the amazing works included in this project that we all worked so hard on❤️ with that being said, we hope you enjoy!! Thank you for supporting us!!)

[colours masterlist]: Click here to enjoy several amazing journeys :)

——————

It really hasn’t been your day. There was just one problem after the other being thrown at you at work. Books often went missing at the library, but today an entire section was missing romance novels and no one seemed to know where they had gone. So you spent hours collecting them from other sections in the library, placing them on your cart as you moved through each lane. It doesn’t sound like a lot of work but for a library with 16 floors, it was just enough to make your head spin. Your day was long and boring.

And now, you learned that your favorite cafe was fresh out of your usual drink, an iced caramel latte, the perfect drink for a pick me up.

fantastic.

A sigh left your lips as you turned around the corner of the bathroom and walked face first into someone.

smack!

You stumbled back and then felt something wet on your clothes. Great.

“I..I’m so sorry about that.” A lady’s voice caught you off guard as she quickly tried to clean up the situation. She reached forward and grabbed your hands. A bit weirded out by the situation, you tried to pull your hands away but she didn’t let go, pulling you in closer so she could look into your eyes and capture your full attention.

“Dear, don’t be frightened, my name is Cyan and I am so very sorry...” Her eyes had a mysterious glow about them that you couldn’t understand. She seemed...otherworldly.

“Let me make it up to you.” Cyan said. “Here, pick a colour and you’ll meet your soulmate. However, you should be aware that each colour represents a different reality, and you only have one chance to bring them back to this reality.”

“Really?” you asked, clearly suspicious of the entire situation.

“Yes, now which would you choose?” she asked as she held out the tablet for you to pick a colour. You tilted your head to the side before just agreeing.

You typically liked to lay low, keep things normal and safe for your sanity. And love? Soulmates? Those were concepts that you never really thought too hard about. If it comes, it comes but you weren’t going to go out of your way for it.

But today was unlike any other day, everything went wrong, so what if...you did things differently for once? What if you took the chance to experience something...new? You had nothing left to lose, right?

You reached forward to choose.

“Fuchsia.”

^_^

You sat at the kitchen table, your Bluetooth speaker playing your favorite song, “Breeze”. It was by the artist Mountain Man, whose identity was a mystery to the entire world. Your roommate Delilah came in to grab some orange juice from the fridge.

Delilah laughed. “I swear I dream of this song from all the times you play it.”

You replied, “This song is a religious experience. You should be so honored to dream of it.” You took a bite of your Fruity Pebbles.

Delilah joined you at the table as she searched something up on her laptop. “Today’s the bid for the Bulbasaur card I’ve had my eye on. I’m so nervous. I can’t go past eight five dollars so let’s hope my competition is just as cheap as I am.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eighty-five dollars for a trading card? Really?”

Deililah shook her head. “Sixty-five dollars for foundation, y/n? Really?”

You shut your mouth and keep eating your cereal. You and your roommate had your impulses...Well, your passions. Besides, an investment in good foundation only made sense given your profession as a makeup artist.

Delilah scrolled through her phone and frowned. “That’s weird. This looks just like your Hermosa Vida palette.”

That was impossible. You had the only one in existence. Last month, at the cosmetics brand launch for Hermosa Vida, you received a limited edition palette from two of your favorite makeup artists, Sol and Luna, who teamed up for their growing cosmetics empire. They gave you the limited edition trial of the palette before the official palette was released in stores. You were so excited to try it out but misplaced it two weeks ago. You knew you had to clean your room more often.

In fact, you’ve misplaced a lot of things recently: a pair of your favorite My Melody socks, a bracelet from your trip to Jamaica last summer, a pair of your reading glasses, and more. You knew people were bound to lose things but it seemed to happen more often to you. You didn’t think much of it as you were busy applying for your new job.

You stood behind Delilah so you could see the palette on sale for yourself. It was shaped like a clam shell and was rose gold. It even had Sol and Luna’s autographs on the bottom.

Just like yours.

You scanned the description of the product to find the username of the seller: 1026you.

“Wait, I thought I was the only one who owned this palette. It doesn’t make sense. If there was more than one of these palettes in existence, then there would be more on sale. But this one...looks exactly like mine,” you said.

“Maybe it’s a knockoff,” Delilah offered, “You know how people will fabricate anything to get extra cash.”

“The thing is...I lost my palette. It’s almost as if…”

Delilah scoffed. “You don’t think someone broke in and stole it?”

You considered it. “I don’t know, Delilah. I’ve been losing a lot of things lately...I think we should install some cameras in here. Just in case.”

Your roommate nodded. “Fine with me. It’ll make us both feel safer.”

So you and Delilah had cameras installed around the apartment. You hoped your first paycheck with your new gig would come in quickly. You contacted the seller and asked about the palette, asking where they’d bought it and how they had access to it. You asked so you could have some sort of proof that it couldn’t be the same as yours. But it looked exactly like yours. And it bothered you. Unfortunately, there was no response from the seller.

A few days after that, your Siamese cat Totoro disappeared. You weren’t too concerned as Totoro was an outdoor cat and he tended to wander. He would return soon, you thought.

^_^

Meanwhile across your hometown of Los Angeles, international rockstar Nakamoto Yuta stood in his bathroom, dumbfounded to find a portrait of a young woman looking over her shoulder.

Yuta said to himself. “Where the hell did this come from?”

His girlfriend Ashley called from the living room. “What’s that, babe?”

Yuta responded, “Nothing, Ash.” He’d rather not freak out his high-maintenance diva girlfriend.

It was strange how random objects kept popping up in his apartment. He asked Ashley about the palette but she denied it was hers. A bracelet appeared on his nightstand a few weeks ago and Ashley denied again, growing suspicious that Yuta was having someone over. But he didn’t owe any explanations to her.

Yuta always came up short with his security footage. There were glitches with the footage. The objects just...appeared from one frame to the next. This had to be some kind of joke.

Seeing a whole portrait pop up in his bathroom of all places was just part of his daily routine now. Guess I’ve got another thing I have to sell online, he thought.

Then again… He looked carefully at the painting. The woman in the painting was stunning. He wondered what her face looked like in reality. Gorgeous, he was sure of it. The woman wore an oval-shaped ruby necklace. The painting gave him both a sense of comfort and excitement. He couldn’t explain this clearly new but somehow familiar feeling. He decided to hold onto the painting for a while. He could always change his mind.

Ashley let out a blood-curdling scream. “Yuta! Get in here!” She sounded scared for her life. Could it have been the people who managed to break in and leave the painting among all of the other random objects? He ran into the living room to find Ashley standing on his plush couch.

“Is that...a cat?!” Ashley hissed as she looked down at a Siamese cat.

The cat watched her from the ground, swaying his tail back and forth. He simply watched her. When the cat saw Yuta, he walked up to him and rubbed himself against Yuta’s legs as he purred.

Yuta crouched down and pet the cat behind his ears. “Hey there, buddy. How did you get in here?”

“Yuta, you went and bought a cat when you know I’m allergic?” Ashley asked as she sneezed.

Yuta sighed. “I swear to you I have no idea how he got in here.” It was possible he ran in when Yuta opened the sliding glass door to his yard.

“Well...” Ashley sneezed as she grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the multimillion dollar mansion. “You better get rid of that thing if you ever want me to set foot into this house again!”

Ashley slammed the door and Yuta laughed as he sat down on the couch. The cat laid on his lap and pushed his head into Yuta’s hand so that he could pet him.. Yuta brushed his fingers through his fur.

“You know what, I think I’ll keep you.”

^_^

It was your first day of work with the world famous band Skylark. Sky High Entertainment reached out to you when they watched your most popular makeup tutorial. Now, you would be their makeup artist for their future engagements. Your first few weeks would be to assist the band in preparation for their first set of tour dates in Los Angeles for their Heaven on Earth World Tour. You were to meet the group and their team at the Staples Center. You weren’t too familiar with Skylar’s work because you were either fixated on the YouTube MUA community or repeatedly listening to Mountain Man’s music. You arrived early, too excited to start, and the band’s manager Baekhyun Byun told you that you were welcome to watch the group rehearse.

To say that the band was attractive was an understatement. You knew of their names and faces from the occasional Twitter posts. Plus, you had to memorize their names and faces for the job. However, seeing them in person was a whole other experience.

Drummer Johnny Suh’s muscular arms and intensity were reminiscent of Hercules as he twirled one of his drumsticks with ease. Mark Lee was the guitarist, looking like he was about to be cast for the next Spiderman with his sweet and goofy demeanor. He played a random guitar solo with his tongue out to get a reaction out of his cousin Johnny. Dong Sicheng was focused at the keyboard, looking as elegant and regal as a vampire prince. Bassist Jung Jaehyun’s every glance was more seductive than the last as he tuned his bass to perfection.

Last but not least was the frontman with the fuchsia colored mane: Yuta Nakamoto. His walk to the microphone at the center of the stage was unintentionally seductive, considering he was in a black hoodie and sweatpants like the rest of his band. He was at least six feet tall as his long strides made him walk with such grace and elegance. A man that was effortlessly gorgeous was definitely trouble. At this point, your jaw was on the ground. Every man on that stage was a god but Yuta was the frontman for a reason. He was undeniably the cutest of the group. In his all-black attire, he was the emo prince of millions of girl’s dreams: his slender face, his sharp cheekbones, his piercing brown eyes, a smile so bright it could make you go blind, his rockstar piercings which included a navel piercing and caused your thoughts to drift to places that weren’t suitable for the workplace…

From time to time, the band goofed off. Mark made a paper plane from the set list and threw it at Johnny. Jaehyun danced the latest TikTok dance while Sicheng filmed it with his phone. Yuta laughed as he borrowed the keyboard and wrote some notes down in his notebook.

When they got down to business, the boys completely transformed. They channeled angst and heartache when they began rehearsal. You recognized the song as their latest single: “Lost and Found”.

When Yuta sang, goosebumps ran down your back and your stomach twisted. Alarms were ringing in your head but they weren’t out of fear. But out of...excitement? You couldn’t describe this strange sensation.

Yuta transformed into a man who was heartbroken and confused. His voice danced into your ears and hearing it live made the lyrics more meaningful. Every word that left his plump lips lingered in the air. You couldn't get enough and felt your heart squeeze.

Yuta looked out to the audience as he always practiced how he would engage with the crowd. He earned several thumbs up from the staff, as expected. Then he turned to your section and could barely make you out as a silhouette in the darkness.

You saw that he focused on your section as he sang the second verse. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d have to listen to more of Skylark’s music from now on because they were fantastic. And maybe lurk on Yuta’s social media.

After rehearsal ended, Manager Byun introduced you to the rest of the team, including the other makeup artists. He walked you to the dressing room to introduce you to the band. For the first time in years, you were about to freak out like a fangirl.

“Boys, this is y/n. She’s our newest makeup artist. Please, I beg of you, don’t make her run for the hills.” Manager Byun laughed. You hoped he was joking.

The boys greeted you and shook your hand. Johnny was the most outgoing. “Pleasure to meet you, y/n!”

Jaehyun winked at you as he shook your hand. “Hi.”

Winwin gave you a childlike smile. “Thank you for joining us!”

Mark stuttered as he greeted you, “Uh, hi, it’s uh, really nice to meet you.” His cheeks were flushed.

You were overjoyed but knew you had to conceal your excitement. Still, you couldn’t help but hope for Yuta to greet you.

You all turned to Yuta who was busily texting away on his phone in front of his mirror.

Johnny cleared his throat. “Yuta, say hi to y/n.”

Then, you noticed he was wearing his AirPods. Johnny tapped him on the shoulder. Yuta looked up at him. “What? I was on the verge of a breakthrough, and now I won’t get it back. Thanks a lot.” Yuta rolled his eyes and looked back at his phone.

Johnny cleared his throat and you could see his smile twitch from his reflection in the mirror. “Say hi to y/n. She’s our new makeup artist,” Johnny said carefully. He sounded a lot less sweet, then.

Yuta sighed. “Fine.”

He got up from his makeup chair and walked up to you. His sour demeanor quickly shifted to bright and breezy. His megawatt smile appeared as he shook hands with you. “Hi, y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”

It was insincere and you knew it. You didn’t even bother faking a smile. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

It was the smile you’d seen all too often with celebrities and YouTubers whose egos grew faster than their subscriber count. It was the kind of smile they used to please sponsors and fans. A means to an end.

Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it appeared. He quickly turned away and went back to his chair, put his AirPods in, and returned to his phone. You spoke too soon when you thought Yuta was your favorite member.

Mark whispered, “Don’t take it personally, y/n. Yuta is in his own little world most of the time.”

You weren’t surprised. Chances were one of these boys wasn’t what they seemed. You were disappointed it was Yuta, though.

For the most part, your first day went well. Everyone was warm and welcoming. You shared tips with the other makeup artists. But then, they dropped a bomb.

“You’re assigned to Yuta,” Manager Byun told you as you headed down the elevator. You just came back from a break.

You couldn’t control your initial facial expression.

Manager Byun laughed. “He won’t bite.”

You composed yourself. “Oh, I know…”

He understood. “He’s been working on a lot of projects. Some of which I don’t even know the full details of. So I apologize on his behalf for his rudeness.”

You shook your head. “But Manager Byun-”

He raised his hand. “Please, call me Baekhyun. Manager Byun makes me sound like I’m a father of three.”

You laughed. “Okay. Baekhyun, you don’t have to apologize for him. I get it. He’s a workaholic. I’ll gladly be his makeup artist.” It wasn’t like Yuta insulted you. He just wasn’t what you hoped he would be. Plus, you were there for a job and nothing else. So professionalism was always key.

Baekhyun put his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you, y/n. If he gives you trouble at all, the makeup team will make sure Yuta gets the wrong shade of foundation.”

You and the rest of the makeup team headed back to the dressing room where the boys were sitting in their chairs. They needed to get their makeup done for the filming of their tour diaries entry for this week. Yuta was still glued to technology. This time, he was on his laptop, and he was in the middle of producing a track, it seemed.

You gulped and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Naka-” You began.

“Yuta’s fine,” he barked back.

“I have to do your makeup,” you said as you started off with his primer.

“Fine,” he said as he closed his eyes, “Make it quick.”

His tone was even crabbier than this morning. You told yourself to keep it together. You wouldn’t let this diva jeopardize your job. He was a challenge and you would overcome this bastard.

Because Yuta was quiet and as still as a statue, doing his makeup wasn’t a problem. You made sure you were swift but neat. You didn’t want to poke the tiger again. All that was left was his eyeliner. You gave him an elegant winged eyeliner for his left eye. You were halfway done with his right eye when he interrupted.

His voice boomed. “Seriously, what part of ‘quick’ don’t you understand?”

He startled you so much that his liner shot straight up to the middle of his forehead.

You bit back your anger and your tears. You said calmly, “I was almost done, Yuta. If you hadn’t startled me for ten more seconds, I would’ve finished.”

Yuta looked in the mirror, his venomous tone matching the anger in his face. “You clearly lack experience if you let one thing I said get to you. Well? Don’t just stand there. Fix it.”

The rest of the staff and the band stood there, stunned to silence. You swallowed your pride and redid the liner on his right eye. He said nothing when you finished. He left the dressing room first.

You turned to everyone else, feeling humiliated and fearing what everyone would say. “Why is it so quiet?”

“Because you didn’t run for the hills,” Sicheng replied, smiling at you in admiration.

“Huh?” That wasn’t the reaction you’d expected.

Rin, your fellow makeup artist who was working on Jaehyun right beside you, said, “The last makeup artist Lily only lasted a week. Yuta’s been…”

“A stuck up bitch,” Jaehyun finished.

Rin sighed, “His words. Not mine. Before Lily, there was Halle. Halle was Yuta’s makeup artist for three years before she left for another project. Even before Halle left, Yuta was in a mood. No one knows what’s bothering him. He’s not usually-”

“A diva,” Mark added.

Rin applied some setting spray on Jaehyun’s face. “Once again, not my words.”

You worried if you crossed a line by talking back at him like you had. “Was I not supposed to say anything to him when he yelled?”

Everyone laughed. Johnny said, “Are you kidding? We dare you to tell him to stop bitching if he snaps again.”

You thought about it. “I just hope he gets over whatever he’s going through.”

^_^

Days passed and the sixth day of work went just about the same. You were in your element and over the moon with all of the high-end cosmetics at your disposal. Not even your sourpuss of a client could dampen your mood.

During one of your breaks, you sat alone in one of the unoccupied meeting rooms and listened to “Breeze” on your phone as you read some of your emails.

“The breeze made your hair sway. I fell in love that autumn day,” you sang aloud.

Yuta was headed to a meeting with Cartier but at the sound of your voice singing “Breeze”, he froze in his tracks. He pressed his ear against the door of the room you were in. The cracks in your voice were endearing. He smiled to himself.

He peaked through the window and hoped you didn’t notice him. You were seated at the table. Your legs were propped against one of the other swivel chairs. You tapped your fingers against the table. You smiled as you sang. Your smile was lovely. Your eyes were so full of joy and passion as you recited the lyrics, and for the first time, he actually looked at you and took in your features. Your singing voice wasn’t as calm and soothing as your speaking voice, but he still enjoyed hearing you. For the first time in a long time, he felt..something.

Seeing you smile that way made you the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he realized.

He couldn’t believe how much you loved his song. “Breeze” wasn’t doing as well as he hoped. The company CEO thought about scrapping his anonymous side project all together. He didn’t understand. Had he released the song with Skylark or under his own name would “Breeze” have charted better? It pissed him off. He was so proud of his composition. It was the first time he let himself be so raw and vulnerable. Because he wanted this project to be anonymous, he chose not to tell his bandmates or anyone else, really. The couple of staff members who did know were sworn to secrecy. It killed him that he couldn’t vent to anyone.

When the song ended, you said to yourself, “Oh, let’s just play this on a loop.” You played “Breeze” again and stretched your arms.

Seeing you love the song as much as he did made the dark cloud that loomed over his head fade a little. Perhaps he had been too harsh on you, he thought.

^_^

A few more days pass and you and Yuta seem to be getting closer. He’d actually put his phone down when you did his makeup, watching you as you patted his foundation in. For you, it was strange, but for Yuta he was mesmerized.

“I’m bored..let’s play 20 questions.” Yuta said as you spritzed his face with primer water one day.

“Uhhh..okay.” Your brows furrowed.

“Favorite movie, go.” Yuta asked before closing his eyes.

“Uhhh. Titanic?”

“Ew. Okay favorite group?” He smirked.

“Well..it’s not Skylark..” You huffed.

Yuta took in a sharp breath and held your wrist to stop you. “It’s NOT Skylark? Then who is it, who is worthy?” His eyes were intense, like you hurt him deeply.

“Hmmm...One Direction.” You were just messing with him, but you wanted to see his reaction.

He rolled his eyes and let go, leaning back in his chair and rolling his neck. “You can’t be serious...”

“What? They make good music! And isn't it my turn to ask questions now?”

“Shoot.” Yuta closed his eyes so you could do his eye shadow.

“Hmmm..what’s your favorite color?” You started.

“The color of your eyes...”

You froze for a moment, but then chuckled. “Yuta..seriously?”

Yuta’s eyes opened as he laughed. “I’m serious! They’re beautiful.”

You pouted. “I’m done playing this game if you’re gonna mess with me.”

“Are you going to ruin my eyeliner again because you don’t like my compliment?” He let out in a faux British accent and high pitched tone to mimic the queen. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head.

Yuta smiles widely when he hears your angelic laugh, your eyes crinkling and your cheeks becoming so round and full.

What was this new feeling that he had?

^_^

You’d be working with Skylark for a month now and you were enjoying your time with the team. However, it was pouring for the first time in a month in LA. While you would’ve been happy about it in any other circumstance, you were annoyed and on the verge of freaking out. Your second bus was running late to take you to the arena. You decided not to wait for the bus and make a run for it.

Your umbrella was helpful to a certain extent but you were drenched regardless. The rain continued to pour unforgivingly. When you were preparing to cross the street, a black Mercedes pulled up beside you. The passenger window came down and you recognized Yuta.

He was sitting there, looking amazing as usual. Only this time, his long, neon pink hair was thrown into a bun and he modeled a pair of heart-shaped, fuchsia colored sunglasses to match.

The way he held the wheel with one hand made your heart shudder for some reason.

“Get in!” He said.

You hesitated for a second. However, dryer clothes outweighed your pride at this moment. You hopped in, closed your umbrella, and shut the door.

Yuta grabbed your umbrella and put it in the backseat. “You’re soaked. I’m going to turn up the heat on your seat.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

Yuta drove you to work. He was surprised he could recognize you through the pouring rain. He had this inexplicable anxiety when he was at the red light before he saw you. He couldn’t explain it. He was doing okay for the most part. His last song for his first self-titled mini album was almost complete. Ashley was a pain but their respective managers were working towards a day when they could announce their breakup. His band was at the top of their game. His new cat was keeping Ashley away.

So what was this feeling that came out of nowhere?

And how did the feeling disappear just as quickly when you looked him in the eyes?

“Thanks for the ride,” you piped up.

Yuta cleared his throat, feeling shy all of a sudden. Very unlike him. “We’re both headed the same way.” That was Yuta’s attempt at sounding cool. He didn’t realize it could make him sound like a tool, you thought.

There was an awkward silence that suffocated you both. The traffic was unbearable so it looked like you would both be late for work.

Yuta blurted, “I don’t think I’ve said this before but...I’m sorry..”

You turned to him as he stared straight ahead. You were shocked that he was apologizing. You figured this man never apologized for anything, especially when he carried on with you at work like he hadn’t snapped at you on your first day. “Are you?”

He sighed as he slowed down. “Yes. I was a jerk and you were just doing your job. I really have no excuse.”

You replied, “Well, as long as you’re aware. Do you promise to keep the sass to a minimum? Or at least until after I’m done with your makeup?”

Yuta nodded. “Yes, I promise.”

You noted how down Yuta looked. Beneath the hostility and sarcasm, there was frustration and sadness. “I forgive you.”

Yuta smiled. “Thank you.”

Another awkward silence followed. And the rain poured down even harder so Yuta drove even slower. He turned up the radio and you both recognized “Breeze”.

You both sat back and listened to the song in silence. Without you realizing, Yuta snuck glances at you as you hummed and bobbed your head to the beat of the song.

“I love this song,” you blurted.

Yuta smirked. “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?”

“I would give anything to meet Mountain Man. His music is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. No one knows who he is. His identity is top secret,” you sulk.

Yuta beamed with pride that someone could be a fan of his mysterious persona. Without knowing his face or his true identity. It truly made him feel special.

Yuta bit back a laugh. “I know who he is, actually.” He wondered if he would regret telling you this.

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

“I can introduce him to you if you’d like but you have to promise me one thing.” Yuta was elated to see you so thrilled.

“Wait, really?!” You exclaimed as you unconsciously moved closer to him. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

Yuta shook his head as he finally turned into the arena parking lot. “When we break for lunch, I’ll take you to him. I’ll call him over.” You gaped. “Oh, you don’t have to. He must be so busy. He doesn’t have time to meet me. I-”

Yuta felt a flash of jealousy over your consideration for someone whose face you didn’t even know (even if it was his other persona). “He won’t mind, I promise. Now promise me one thing when I introduce you.”

“What is it?” You asked cautiously.

Yuta put his car in park. “Promise me you’re free tonight. I need to go over some looks for my concept photos next week. I know it’s after work but I’ll buy dinner.”

Yuta did a full 180 on his personality. You were still recovering from the whiplash. And now he was doing you favors and confiding in you? You were on the fence but if you could meet Mountain Man, surely it would be worth it.

^_^

When it was lunch time, Yuta took you to the conference room. “Take a seat, y/n. Mountain Man just texted me. I’ll bring him in.”

You sat down in your unofficial swivel chair and fought the urge to pick at your nails. You were so nervous. To be in the presence of such talent. To be in the presence of the man who touched your heart with a three minute and fifty five second song. You had no idea what to expect.

Yuta came back quickly. With no one. He looked at you expectantly.

You got up to check if anyone was behind Yuta. “Uh, Yuta?”

“Uh huh?” He asked.

“Where’s Mountain Man?” You frowned.

He threw his arms up. “You’re looking at him.”

You got up from your chair and wrapped your arms around your chest in frustration. “Come on.”

Yuta was shocked at your reaction. “You don’t believe me?”

You shook your head. How can such a high-profile celebrity be an anonymous artist?

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Wow, you’re really making a guy work here, aren’t you?”

“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you just release your music with Skylark or under your real name? Why the anonymity?” You asked as you went back to your chair and collected your belongings to leave.

“Wait, don’t go,” Yuta pleaded, “I can prove it.”

He offered his notebook to you with lyrics that dated back two years.

“This is your lyric book?” You asked.

Yuta nodded as you flipped through the pages. “Songs I’ve written for Skylark. Songs I’ve written for my solo mini. And songs I’ve written for Mountain Man.”

You sat down and carefully absorbed all of the contests inside. You went to the first pages of the notebook and found the early drafts of “Breeze”, which dated back to a year ago. And right after those lyrics, there were the lyrics for Skylark’s Grammy-nominated song, “Hope and Flame”.

You looked up at him. “You…”

“Yeah,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “If you’re not convinced, I’ll take you to the studio and show you how I’ve used a voice modifier. Plus, you’re looking at lyrics of songs that won’t be released until next year. So if you’re willing to wait until then to see your proof, well…”

Well, he hoped those songs would be released next year. He prayed you would believe him.

You choked. “I...believe you.”

Yuta exclaimed. “Really?”

Yuta was acting very childlike today, you observed. You thought it was kind of cute. He may have dropped one of the biggest secrets in the industry but he was still your moody client.

“I can’t believe…you’re Mountain Man…”

Yuta sat down beside you. “You owe me.”

“After you introduced me to...you?” You laughed in disbelief.

He nodded. “You said you would give anything to meet me.” He was smug as he gave you a knowing look.

You scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d use it against me.”

He replied as he leaned back on the chair. “I’m not. I just thought I might impress you.”

“And why would you want to do that?” You teased.

He leaned closer and shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess I just wanted to.”

You blushed at his proximity and quickly turned away. “There you go again with the teasing.”

Yuta smiled wide. “So what do you want for dinner? Pizza or Chinese?”

^_^

You helped Yuta explore a few looks for his upcoming photoshoot before dinner that night.

You were adding some final touches to his heart-shaped lips. “Your lips are so pretty,” you said without realizing.

Yuta knew to hold still but his eyes opened at hearing you say that. You were so caught up in making up his face that you didn’t realize you were thinking out loud. Yuta chose not to bother you. He owed you that much.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said, “I gave you a more understated look. More neutral tones in your eyeshadow and highlighter. And I chose a brighter shade of pink for your lips. I get more of a romantic vibe from this look,” you said as you looked at his reflection in the makeup mirror.

Yuta looked straight at you. “I love it.” He was impressed with your careful attention to detail and how natural you made his makeup look. Out of all the makeup artists and stylists he’d worked with, you were the most attentive and cooperative. You always surpassed his vision for his look. You asked him for his opinions in case you needed to change anything. Most of the time, though, he was very satisfied with your work on the first go. You were the best makeup artist he’d worked with, he had to admit.

“You don’t want more eyeliner? What were you thinking with your piercings?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It’s perfect, y/n. Every look you showed me is perfect for the shoot. I just need you to be by my side when it starts. No one else touches this face but you.” Yuta explained with no trace of mockery in his voice.

Yuta was so open with you all of a sudden and all you did was breathe. How was that possible? And you felt a little more intimidated now that you knew that Yuta was behind your favorite artist. You remembered that first and foremost you were his makeup artist so you shoved your confused feelings aside. You would panic when you got home.

Blushing and still processing, you said, “Thank.”

“You?” He finished for you.

You blushed even harder. “Yeah.”

He laughed as you tried to compose yourself.

You removed his makeup so his skin could get a break. “What’s next?”

Yuta sighed. “We’re done, y/n. Let’s order something and I’ll drive you home. It’s late.”

You cleaned up your supplies while Yuta ordered pizza. You both liked extra Mozzarella cheese on top.

“So,” you said, “Can I ask you something?” You’ve been dying to ask him questions for hours but you’ve done so well to hold it in. You figured you’d indulge by asking at least one.

“Yeah?” Yuta sat up straight.

“Did you compose all of Mountain Man’s releases?”

He nodded.

“What instruments do you play?” You dared to ask one more question.

“Guitar, piano, drums, violin,” he said as he got up and grabbed his guitar from his case. “Thanks for reminding me. I have a melody stuck in my head, and I want to see if I can make something out of it.”

Yuta tuned his guitar and hummed to himself. He played a few chords.

“Whoa,” you said. “Just like that?”

He chuckled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You can make something so incredible and unique in an instant?” You asked, clearly in awe.

He shook his head. “I could only get to this point because I practiced every single day in grade school.”

You heard how lonely he sounded, then. “That must have been…”

“A pain in my ass, yeah. I gave up many trips to Chuck E. Cheese just so I could master the piano,” he grumbled.

“And you never gave up on practicing?” You asked, impressed. Had it been you you would’ve given up and found the next hobby.

“My parents pushed me hard from a young age,” he started, “They wanted me to become a world classical musician. Family honor and all.”

“What changed, though? Skylark isn’t exactly classical,” you observed.

Yuta replied, “I didn’t tell my parents but I started a rock band when I was sixteen. Johnny and Jaehyun have been by my side from the very beginning. We rehearsed in Johnny’s garage until we graduated.”

You grinned, just thinking about teenage Yuta rebelling against his family’s wishes. “That’s sweet.”

He laughed. “Yeah, Johnny and Jaehyun claimed they joined to meet girls but I knew they loved music just as much as I did. Johnny’s cousin Mark and Mark’s best friend Sicheng joined us a few months later and we were a force of nature. That was our first band name, by the way.”

You bit back a laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Force of Nature,” Yuta replied, deadpan. “What’s so funny, y/n?”

You laughed, almost falling over in your seat. “That is so cute. You guys thought you were being edgy.”

Yuta grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at you. “I won’t tolerate mockery from the staff.”

You gasped. “I won’t tolerate a DICKtator.” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at him.

You both laughed so hard. Yuta grabbed an eyeliner pencil you forgot to pack up.

“You know, y/n,” Yuta started as he moved closer to you. “You’re alright.” He took your hand and slipped the eyeliner into it.

“You, too, Nakamoto,” you said, “You’re still paying for the pizza, though.”

Time passed as you two talked about your childhoods, your hobbies, and all about Skylark and Mountain Man.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and learn the guitar,” you said as Yuta mindlessly strummed his guitar and produced heavenly melodies.

Yuta innocently offered, “I can teach you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “In exchange for?”

He laughed warmly. “Nothing. Come over here and sit down.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch so you could join him.

You sat down and he placed his acoustic guitar over you. He moved closer to you, moving his arms over you. You could feel his chest against your back. He radiated warmth and your throat almost went dry.

Yuta took your left hand. “Now...you’re going to place your fingers up here. These are called the frets. I already tuned the guitar, okay?” His voice was very close to your ear and for a moment, you held your breath.

He took your right hand and placed it on the body of the guitar. “Let’s try an A chord.” His deep voice lowered even more and you felt your face heat up.

He took your left fingers and adjusted their positions. Never letting go of your hands, he instructed you to strum the guitar.

The chord sounded more beautiful than you’d expected it to be. “Whoa.”

“Nice,” Yuta said, “Then again, I did most of the work.”

You turned your head to him and his face was mere centimeters away from yours. “You are so-”

Yuta moved even closer. “Finish your sentence, y/n. I’m dying to hear what you have to say.”

You retreated. “Irritating.”

Yuta’s phone rang. The pizza arrived and you two fought over the last slice. He was ridiculous, considering he ate four slices to your three. It was only fair you’d eat the last slice. Yuta got creative and used a plastic knife to cut the last slice in half. You accepted but you were determined to get your revenge.

Yuta drove you home. The night was calm, and the traffic was light.

“You live pretty far if you’re walking to the arena for work, y/n,” Yuta said as he pulled up in front of your building.

“I take two buses. Normally, it’s not a problem. It was complicated today because of the rain,” you said.

“Yeah, I thought we were going to get a massive flood,” he said, “It’s very unlike LA.”

You nodded as you took off your seatbelt. “Well, thanks for the ride.”

Yuta smiled and tipped his imaginary hat. “Thank you for your help tonight.” His smile was at its most radiant, then.

^_^

You wake up the next morning thankful for the weekend but a little sad that…Wait a minute.

You didn’t miss Yuta, you told yourself. The boy gave you whiplash and you were only beginning to get to know him. You had time to do some cleaning around the apartment. Maybe you could find a lot of your missing stuff so you could put that eBay account out of your mind.

It was already 2 PM and you couldn’t find the palette, your primary concern. You sighed. You looked around your spotless room and found some solace in the fact that it was clean and organized. Tidying up was its own therapy.

You called your mom and asked her about her day. You went through your jewelry box.

Your mom chattered on, excited like a schoolgirl, “Anyways y/n, Fred wanted to take me to a costume party tonight so I wanted to know...Do you think the black flapper dress would be better than the mod dress?” Fred was her serious boyfriend of three years. You had a feeling that he would propose anytime now and you were happy for them.

That good feeling quickly dissipated. “Oh, no.” Your most prized possession was missing. You knew it was missing because you always kept it in your jewelry box.

“y/n? Honey, are you okay?” Your mom asked over the line.

You couldn’t tell your mom that your grandmother’s ruby necklace was missing. “Yeah, sorry mom, it’s nothing. I got a little dramatic. Ran out of whipped cream for my sundae.” You lied.

You finished your conversation with your mom. You had no choice but to log onto eBay again. You searched 1026you and your suspicions were confirmed.

Your grandmother’s one-of-a-kind family heirloom was for sale. For one hundred dollars. It was a priceless heirloom that was worth at least ten times as much. You clenched your fists. “Son of a bitch.”

You messaged the seller again but knew he would never answer you. He’s ignored your other messages so what made you think he would respond to this one? You read through the site’s terms and conditions and there was no way to contest that the item was yours. You noticed that the item was up for bid and the bid would end in…

Ten minutes.

The current bid was at $100.

You scoffed. “Why the hell do I have to bid on an item that’s mine?”

You swallowed your pride and prayed that no one else would bid higher.

You placed a bid for $101.

Right away, someone else bid higher. $102.

This went on and on until your competition outbid you and won the necklace for $127.

“Son of a bitch!” You cursed again.

You sent 1026you ten consecutive messages telling them that they stole your necklace and begged them to respond as soon as possible. You knew it was hopeless.

^_^

You knocked on Yangyang’s door. He lived a few doors down from you and Delilah. You used to babysit him when you were in high school and college. Yangyang was a child prodigy, having graduated from MIT with a master’s in computer science at age sixteen. His parents still needed you to babysit when he was acing Physics at age ten. He always insisted he didn’t need a babysitter but you two developed a bond. It was to both of your surprise that he became your neighbor. He had a side hustle as a hacker. You hoped he could help you track down 1026you so you can give him a piece of your mind.

He opened the door. “y/n, what’s up?” He smiled wide. He still had that boyish wonder in his eyes.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting,” you started.

“Not at all, come in,” he moved to the side so you could walk into his messy apartment. Video games were scattered all over his living room floor. He was in the middle of eating a bowl of ramen.

“Yangyang, I know I’ve been relieved from my babysitting duties for a while now but...ramen is not a proper meal,” you said.

“Shut up.” Yangyang laughed. “I’ll grill some meat later. Don’t worry.”

You laughed as you sat at his kitchen table. He gave you a can of Pepsi, knowing it was your favorite. “I need a favor, actually.”

Yangyang rejoiced. “At long last, you need my help. Never thought the day would come. You never let me help you with precalculus, even though you definitely needed it.”

Ignoring his roast for once, you responded, “Well...I need your hacking expertise. I know that this is going to sound crazy but...someone has been stealing things from my apartment and selling them online.”

Yangyang’s smile faded. “What the hell? So that’s why you installed security cameras at your place.”

“I didn’t get into it because I thought I was crazy but my grandmother’s necklace is missing and it’s one of a kind. And now…” You showed him the item that was sold.

“That’s your necklace,” Yangyang replied in shock. He recognized it from having known you for so long. You wore it on rare occasions like birthday parties. You preferred not to be photographed with it because you wanted to preserve it and keep it secret from strangers and acquaintances. You never knew who you could trust.

“Can you help me track down the seller?”

“y/n, that goes against eBay’s terms and conditions,” he replied.

You sighed. “I know but-”

Yangyang chuckled mischievously. “This should be fun.”

Yangyang worked magic on his computer to track down 1026you’s location. He was in Los Angeles, to your surprise. “Can’t get you the seller’s name but will an address do?”

“It’s perfect,” you said.

^_^

Yuta woke up from a nap on the couch. Totoro was sleeping on his stomach. He chuckled as he pet him. Yuta’s phone rang, indicating a notification. He checked his phone and saw that the ruby necklace he put on sale was sold to the highest bidder at the deadline. He also saw a bunch of messages from one account claiming he stole the necklace and he’d better respond to her.

“Crazy,” Yuta said as he ignored the messages.

^_^

“What do you think I should use for today’s luxurious bath, Totoro? The ‘Cotton Candy’ bath bomb or the ‘Madly In Love’ bath bomb?” Yuta carefully picked Totoro up from his lap and placed him on the cold marble floor before standing up and stretching.

Totoro let out a loud “meow” and walked away from Yuta.

“I completely agree.”

Yuta threw his shirt off and headed to his bathroom, but he jumped once he opened the door. He had completely forgotten about the beautiful portrait that leaned against the counter. He stopped and tilted his head, really taking in the depth of color in the painting. He gazed at the stunning profile of the woman and the necklace she had on. He couldn’t understand how he had this undying urge to remember a memory he never had, to remember the moment he met this strange woman from the portrait.

He shook his head and started to run water for his bath, oblivious to the eyes that watched him through the small opening of the door.

^_^

You watched a shirtless Yuta stare at something for a few seconds. You couldn’t see what it was, but you really didn’t care, for Yuta’s abs were the real star of the show. Your mouth fell open, your heart started to race. Yuta was perfect in every way, and the twinkling piercing in his navel was the cherry on top.

But...wait.

You had to remember why you were here. Yangyang’s research found that this was the address of the person that was selling your precious necklace so you had to work fast. You already got lucky when you found a window in a first floor bedroom that was open.

You were shocked to see that it was Yuta’s house that you would have to break into, but once again, you just had to get your priceless possession.

Was Yuta messing with you? How could he do this and when could he do this? When would he have had time to sneak into your place and steal your necklace? Or was it his girlfriend?

Yuta shook his head before turning it to the side slightly. You jumped out of sight by moving to the side quickly. He interrupted your thoughts, but you had to get moving before he got out of the shower.

You looked around his enormous mansion, heading for what seemed to be his bedroom, for it was the biggest one at the top of the grand staircase.

Surely, there had to be an explanation for how your possession became his possession. Nonetheless, you were pissed that he decided to ignore your message and proceed to sell it. How could he steal something so meaningful to you then sell it? It’s not like he needed the money.

You looked on top of the California King-sized bed and then under it to see if you could just catch a glimpse of the shimmering ruby stone. But you found nothing. You then looked at his black dresser before stopping to gaze at his extensive earring collection. It was incredible.

A case full of hundreds if not thousands of earrings and jewelry stood beside the dresser. Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened. What if he stole jewelry? No-no, you shook your head at the absurd thought. This man had way too much money.

Then you heard him singing in the bathroom beside his bedroom. But his voice grew louder as he exited and entered the hallway to make his way to his room.

“Shit,” you whispered.

Your heart started to race. You're just moments from being caught so you look back to the dresser and spot it.

Your necklace.

It’s next to the small brown bag that it would have been sent in today, but you grabbed it just in the nick of time.

“BABAY!! Why DON’T YOU JUST MEET ME IN THE MIDDLEEE??” Yuta sang in the hallway and thanks to his boastful voice and the large ceilings that allowed for a beautiful echo, you heard him when he was just about to enter. You quickly dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed.

You covered your mouth to muffle your heavy breathing. He was pacing about, walking to and from his closet.

“Nah, don’t like this…” he threw a flannel onto the bed. He went into his closet and grabbed a black T-shirt, the 56th black T-shirt in his collection, to be exact.

“Nice.” Yuta continued to hum while spritzing on some cologne.

Yuta smelled amazing, like vanilla and roses, but you couldn’t help but be worried that you would be late for work if you couldn’t get out of his house right NOW.

“Hey, babe..” You heard a female voice say. It was his girlfriend. “Damn it,” you mouthed. Ashley was known for being one of the most gorgeous celebrities alive today. She had the perfect face with a dazzling smile to match, but rumor had it that she was a complete bitch behind closed doors.

You heard Yuta sigh and you could almost feel his eye roll. He was thinking of how much he hated himself for ever giving her a key to his house.

“What’s up, Ash?” He spoke to her like he was being forced to communicate with an Uber driver.

“Oh, don’t sound so excited to see me…” Ashley responded. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Yuta was fixing his earrings onto his ears when she embraced him. He looked at her through the mirror in front of them and gave a look of annoyance when she tilted her head to lock eyes with him.

“So...where were you yesterday? You missed our dinner date at the Venetian...Do you know how much it cost me to lose that reservation AND call off the paps?”

“I’m sure you can afford it.” Yuta walked away from her and looked at the dresser with a puzzled expression. Something’s missing, he thought.

You watched Yuta’s footsteps as he hesitated for a moment, but then he continued on into his closet.

Your eyes grew. Did Yuta really blow off his date at the most expensive restaurant in the city to be with you? He ditched $1,000 caviar and steak just to eat $12 pizza with you?

“You really like making me beg, don’t you, Mr. Nakamoto?” Her voice lowered as she leaned against the dresser and watched Yuta put his socks on.

“Where were you, daddy?”

Yuta hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like the fact that she thought he had to report his movements to her. She acted like she had to know everything that went on in his life. She was overstepping and Yuta wasn’t about to fall for it.

So he decided to piss her off.

“I was with..the new girl.”

Ashley stood up straight and crossed her arms. You nearly yelped out under the bed and revealed yourself.

“Who’s the ‘new girl’?” Ashley asked and you could just hear the fire in her tone. Even Charizard would be jealous.

“The new makeup artist..she’s sweet, I bought us food and we talked.” Yuta smirked and walked closer to Ashley who didn’t even try to hide her jealousy. Her perfectly plucked brows furrowed.

“I taught her how to play the guitar...she’s lovely, really. We had a great time.” Yuta was definitely twisting the knife and you couldn’t tell if he spoke of you fondly just to piss her off, or if he genuinely meant it. Either way, his words filled your chest with butterflies, and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yuta...baby, you missed our date at THE Venetian to spend it with some talentless random who probably has a failing Youtube channel?” Ashley pouted. “Let me show you what’s lovely, Mr. Nakamoto.”

Yuta was about to protest, but Ashley held his chin and tilted it down towards her before placing a kiss on his lips.

The sound echoed in the large room and made you roll your eyes. She insulted you without having met you? What a bitch, you thought. No wonder Yuta was miserable.

She then took his hand and led him to the bed, pushing his chest lightly so he’d sit on the soft surface. She dropped to her knees and ran her hands along his thighs.

Oh no...please don’t do what I think you’re about to do. You squeezed your eyes tightly and prayed that Yuta would tell her to wait until later.

Yuta huffed and puffed but indulged her, allowing her to have her way because he just couldn’t be bothered. She unbuckled his belt while looking into his low eyes.

“You’re stressed, baby, that’s why you spent time with a total stranger. But don’t forget you have me.” Ashley licked her lips before taking his pant zipper in between her teeth and dragging it down.

“I can’t wait to taste you, Mr. Nakamoto.” Ashley kissed his pelvis. She was too busy to see Yuta cringe at the name she called him. God, did it feel weird.

“Just...m-make it quick. I have to go.” Yuta licked his lips, letting his head fall back as he closed his eyes in anticipation.

Shit. You mouthed again. You were about to hear the most disturbing sounds of your life and there was nothing you could do, nowhere that you could go. Could you sneak out on the other side without them noticing? Shit shit shit shit.

Ashley sneezed before she could place her mouth on Yuta again.

Yuta looked down in annoyance.

She quickly swiped at her nose then retook her position.

She puckered her lips to lay a kiss on his growing bulge, but she sneezed again.

Several more sneezes followed and Yuta was getting frustrated. He slowly became turned off.

“Damn it, do you still have that ugly cat? I’m suffering here!” She yelled before laying out four back-to-back sneezes.

“So am I.. I gotta go, Ashley.” Yuta rolled his eyes and stood up. He brushed past her, where she still knelt on the floor, and walked towards the dresser.

“Make yourself useful and mail this-” Yuta’s sentence trailed when he didn't see the necklace. The brown envelope was there but the necklace was no longer beside it. “What the hell, I could’ve sworn...”

He looked into the brown bag then onto the floor and the rest of the dresser. Sure enough, the necklace was gone. “So it disappears just as quickly as it appeared? Shit.”

Your brows furrowed. What did he mean by “appeared?”

“Have you seen-?” Yuta was about to ask.

But suddenly, your phone started to vibrate in your back pocket. You quickly reached towards it to silence it so it would no longer make that grinding sound while shaking on the floor.

Luckily, Ashley was still sneezing so it covered up the sound..or so you thought.

“What was that?” Yuta turned and looked about the room for the source of the sound.

Ashley finally stood up and walked towards him. “I’ll just drive with you to work! We can finish what we started...” She gave him a wink before sniffling.

Yuta grimaced and grabbed his keys, brushing past her once again to head out the door.. “Whatever you say, Ash.”

Ashley practically skipped behind him. Finally, the room was empty. You swiftly dragged yourself from under the bed and stood up.

You heard them argue downstairs so you decided that you would climb out from the patio attached to Yuta’s room. Yangyang made sure to deactivate Yuta’s entire security system, including his cameras, so you could enter and leave without detection.

You took a deep breath before jumping from the porch and into the bushes below it. You tried not to scream as loudly as you wanted to. How you didn’t break your legs, you weren’t sure, but you were somehow able to leap back onto your feet and book it for the main road, sliding through the gate while Yuta and his girlfriend waited for the garage door to open so they could drive out.

By the time you got to work, you were covered in sweat, leaves, and dirt. You smelled and looked like you had been camping for at least 23 days in the Appalachian mountains, but it didn’t matter. You finally had your necklace.

“You good, y/n?” Manager Byun gave you a puzzled expression as you hurriedly took your tools out of your kit and placed them on the vanity for Yuta. You were somehow able to get there just minutes before him.

“I’m okay! Had a slightly...difficult time getting here, but I’m ready!” You gave him a smile so forced, you thought your face would be stuck like that forever.

He nodded slowly but still looked confused.

Just then, Yuta entered. His smile was bright and so beautiful. You melted like chocolate in his sunny smile when his eyes were glued to yours as he entered.

But your feelings of admiration soon dissipated when you saw his girlfriend behind him. She held up a compact mirror and was fixing her lipstick as she walked in.

I guess they did finish what they started...

Your smile fell. You didn’t know why you were sad and disappointed. It’s not like your one night with Yuta actually meant anything. He had a girlfriend, and not just any girlfriend. A celebrity girlfriend that was just listed as the person with the second most beautiful face in the world, behind Zendaya of course. Yuta was lucky, there’s no way he’d drop her for you.

You looked away as he walked over. He could feel a shift in your mood immediately. Your eyes were so big and bright when he entered and now you shifted your focus to organizing your makeup and covering a look of sadness that he could clearly see.

Yuta said ‘hi’ to everyone but stepped quickly over to you.

“Hey...y/n...it's nice to see you again.” Yuta gave you a half smile that really tugged at your heartstrings. How could he manage to make you so weak?

“Hey, Yuta.” You gave a short answer, and he could tell you were upset. You weren't nearly as cheerful as you were yesterday. Then..he noticed how disheveled you were.

His face became serious. He touched your arm and it felt like sparks dancing along your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly while the other members and the manager went about their business.

You tried to avoid his magnetic gaze, but couldn't.

Your mouth opened as you looked into his eyes. “I’m-”

“Hi! Nice to meet you, are you the new makeup girl?” Ashley pushed herself in between you and Yuta and obnoxiously smiled in your face to push you further away from Yuta.

“Yes.” You pucker your lips and glance at Yuta who looked beyond annoyed.

“Well, you certainly don’t look like a makeup artist..” Ashley chuckled.

You scoffed. “What?”

“I mean, look at your nails.. Are you sure you want to touch my boyfriend's perfect face when you’ve got an entire ecosystem under your nail bed?” She grabbed your hand without warning and held it up for both you and Yuta to see the dirt that had gotten under your nails when you had jumped off of his patio and held on to the ground for support. You were running late so you didn’t get a chance to go to the restroom to clean up, but of course you would wash your hands before touching his face.

“I-” you started, but she interrupted you once again.

“That’s not very professional of you...”

“Ashley! Stop, don’t you have a photo shoot to get to?” Yuta took your hand from her and lowered it to your side, but he didn’t let it go. He stood beside you and looked onto Ashley with disappointment. Your heart became warm as he squeezed your hand to let you know that he had your back.

Ashley chuckled. “People come and go pretty fast here sweetie..let’s see how long you last.” She rolled her eyes before pushing herself in between the two of you, breaking off your linked hands in the process. How could someone so beautiful also be so ugly?

“I’m so sorry about her.” Yuta turned to you.

You nodded. “She’s right. It's very unprofessional of me to come to work like this.”

Yuta shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, y/n. Things happen..Let me show you where the shower is.”

^_^

Yuta led you to the locker room where the shower was. He handed you a tshirt and sweatpants that he had asked the manager to keep in a locker for him just in case he needed to change after sweating too much.

“Why are you dating someone so...mean?” You asked while you followed Yuta. You didn’t think twice about your question, and really, you had no right to ask him. He was just your client, not your friend.

Yuta chuckled. He turned to you and raised his eyebrows. “I smell some jealousy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, she’s pretty or whatever, but trust me I am not jealous. I just don’t understand how you could be with someone like that..”

“I’m not a saint either, y/n..we’re perfect for each other..or at least our agencies think so.” Yuta paused. He wondered if he should let you in on yet another secret, but he didn’t notice that his eyes had trailed to your lips, adoring the way they formed a small pout.

You laughed. “You have a point, you weren’t exactly the nicest to me when I first started working for you...”

Yuta grinned when he saw your bright smile and your doe eyes as you laughed again. You were like a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone he’d ever seen. His spirit was instantly drawn to you, for you calmed him. You were just a stranger yet you felt like home.

“I’ll make it up to you...How about I teach you more about the guitar after the shoot?” He stepped closer, anxiously awaiting your approval like a boy that just asked his crush to prom.

You started to blush, his face was so close to yours, you had to look into his eyes.

You took in a sharp breath. “Are you sure your girlfriend will be okay with that? I don’t want you to stand her up again, she’ll probably stab me with an eyeliner pencil.”

“Again?” Yuta’s brows bunched together, but he still gave a teasing smile.

sHIT.

“O-oh i mean, surely you’ve stood her up at some point, right? She’s a total b-”

Yuta burst out into laughter.

You looked at him with worry on your face. “W-what did I do?”

“You’re adorable, but I just can’t take it anymore.” Yuta reached his hand out to the side of your face and gently removed a long vine that was tangled in your hair. He then removed a large, green leaf that stuck out of your disheveled do.

He calmed down. “There we go..much better. Even nature loves your beautiful face.”

Beautiful face.

Your heart began to race for the third time in one day. Too much was happening, you thought you would pass out. Did Yuta really just say that you were beautiful?

He cleared his throat when he realized that the words he was thinking actually came out while the two of you stood awkwardly in the locker room.

“Yuta?”

He smiled, just the sound of you saying his name made him weak for some reason, what was happening to him?

“What?”

“You’re staring..” you chuckled.

“I’m getting inspired.” he gazed at your eyes then your lips as he spoke in a softer tone.

“By what?” You tilted your head.

“By you.”

“Mountain Man, you really have a way with words, I bet you say that to all your groupies.” You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, walking towards the shower.

He spun around and grabbed your hand. Your breath hitched when you turned to look at him, his full lips parted and eyes begging for something.

“I...have to tell you something..”

He looked so serious for once.

“Ashley and I are in a fake relationship. It’s all a publicity stunt that our labels set up. I don’t love her...But I’m telling you because I feel like..I can really talk to you.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Yuta.” you gave a small smile. “I’m just your makeup artist, but if you want to talk to me, I don’t see why not. You’ve already told me two major secrets.”

Yuta laughed out at your response, a strand of his beautiful fuchsia hair falling into his forehead, making him look even more handsome than he did before.

He stepped closer.

“Wash up quickly, for me..the shoot starts soon.”

Yuta winked and walked away leaving you a blushing mess.

“Also, remember we have a guitar lesson later.”

For me.

Why did he have to say it like that? Wait, why were you even affected by that? Could your heart calm down when you were around him for more than five seconds?

^_^

You walked into the dressing room in your new comfy outfit and headed straight for your section. The sweatpants Yuta gave you didn’t have pockets, so you had to wear the necklace around your neck. You tucked it under your shirt to make sure that no one would see it on you.

“Wow, I wish I was wearing that instead of leather pants right now...” Johnny pouted when he saw you in Yuta’s Nike sweats.

“You look great! Always remember, beauty is pain,” you gave him a wink and continued to place your tools in order.

“You must be in pain all the time then, y/n.” Yuta exclaimed as he approached his seat.

Everyone in the dressing room let out ‘oooooo’s’ like primary school students.

You blushed but turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see. “Always teasing me, I swear one day you’re gonna pay.”

“Can’t wait for that day.” Yuta relaxed into the chair.

You leaned forward and started to place the concealer under his eyes with a small brush. You took your time and blended carefully, but felt your face become hot when you realized that he was staring at you intensely.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You stepped back to laugh and shook your head.

“What’s wrong? Am I making you flustered?” Yuta smirked.

You rolled your eyes then leaned in towards his face. He suddenly sat up straighter, moving forward so that his lips would be just a few centimeters away from yours.

“Stop teasing me. We don’t have time.” You blushed once again and stepped back.

Yuta bit his lips and chuckled. “Oh, so demanding.”

You were doing his eyeliner when you tugged at the collar of the men’s shirt. It was choking you slightly because it was higher than a regular T-shirt. That’s when your necklace popped up and rested on top of the shirt instead of under it.

“Wait...where did you get that?” Yuta leaned back.

“What?” You narrowed your brow, for you didn’t understand why his demeanor became so serious.

“That necklace...”

Shit.

“Did you steal that..from me?”

Then it all clicked for Yuta. You were in his house. You eavesdropped on his and Ashley’s conversation. That’s how you knew that he stood her up the night before. And that’s why you came to work all sweaty and out of breath.

“What are you talking about?” You backed away from him, but he stood up quickly and snatched the necklace from your neck furiously. The sound of the chain breaking frightened you and you became just as furious. This bastard had no idea what he had just done.

“Yuta!”

Everyone turned to you two once your voice rose.

“What the hell are you doing? Give it back!” You demanded.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he examined the necklace, the shape and cut of the ruby stone and the unique gold chain that it hung on.

He compared the necklace to the picture he posted on his eBay account, and sure enough, it was the same necklace.

“You stole this from my house! You stole from me! I thought I could trust you! What are you, some crazy stalker?!”

“Wait, you’re user 1026you! You’re the crazy one! You stole from me so that you can sell MY jewelry online! You also stole my limited edition eyeshadow palette!” Your voices escalated and everyone else in the room became quiet.

“This crazy bitch! Why the hell would I steal from someone like you?” Yuta gave you a look of disgust and looked down on you like you were a poor dog. You really hated his guts now. He towered over you as he yelled, but you weren’t scared. You were just angry that he had the audacity to lie in front of everyone like this.

“I can’t steal something that was already mine!”

“It was never yours! It was in MY house, and I have the proof right here!” He held up his phone as Manager Byun walked over.

“What’s going on here?” The manager was both puzzled and surprised that you were in a yelling match with the member that no one dared to fight.

“This delusional girl that you decided to hire is a stalker! She broke into my house and stole my necklace.”

“YOUR necklace? You’ve really lost your mind! You stole it from me first.” You shouted back.

“Okay, okay everyone calm down. y/n.. Did you break into Yuta’s house?” the manager turned to you.

“No-I mean, yes, but only because he was going to sell it and it’s precious to me. He ignored my messages and blocked me on eBay before I could explain!”

“You broke into my client’s house?” Baekhyun gaped.

“She sure as hell did. Security!! She tricked me and got close to me just so she could steal from me and learn my secrets. How much were you gonna sell this for, huh? But the worst part is that I trusted you like a fool,” Yuta stepped forward as he spewed hateful and untrue words.

Your eyes started to water, you struggled to hold back tears. “Yuta, you know that’s not true. The necklace was never yours! It belonged to my grandmother and means so much to me.”

“Prove it.” Yuta was angry beyond words, he felt betrayed.

You struggled to think of any way to prove that it was yours. The security guards took your arms and placed them behind your back while pulling you away and out of the room.

The only thing that could prove that the necklace was yours would be the painting that your grandmother made of you when you wore the necklace. The painting that you just now realized had also gone missing.

“No! Don’t do this! I’m not a stalker.” You struggled to stay still as the guards dragged you out.

“She’s delusional! How could you hire someone like that? She put me in danger!” Yuta marched off to the bathroom so he could cool down.

“Yuta-wait. y/n...We will be pressing charges, I’m calling the police.” Manager Byun pulled out his phone.

^_^

A few hours passed and the news broke of what happened.

Crazy Stalker poses as Makeup Artist to Break into Yuta Nakamoto’s home!

BREAKING: MUGSHOT OF DELUSIONAL STALKER OF YUTA NAKAMOTO RELEASED

How did she pull off the perfect plan and is Yuta Nakamoto in danger?

You sat on the bench in your cold cell and wiped your eyes. Everything went bad so quickly. Yuta and basically the entire world thought you were a stalker and there was nothing you could do to prove your innocence. Yuta had the audacity to accuse you of stealing something that was never his to begin with.

And now, you could hear his fans chanting hurtful messages.

“She’s a crazy stalker, We will protect Yuta!”

“Yuta, we love you!”

“SHE DOESN’T DESERVE FREEDOM”

You were so confused, but the part that hurt the most was that your most prized possession was gone and probably in the air on some shipping company's airplane being delivered to some oblivious buyer.

What could you possibly do to make everything right at this point?

Yuta, on the other hand, was at home being coddled by his oh so caring girlfriend.

He laid down on his plush, velvet couch and pouted.

“It’s gonna be okay, Yuta. I swear we’ll get the best lawyers. She’ll never see another day outside!” Ashley got up from the couch and paced about.

“I knew I had a bad feeling about her.”

But Yuta disagreed. He never had a bad feeling about you. He thought you were sweet and kind, he thought everything about you was genuine especially when compared to the fakeness that surrounded him in his lifestyle. How could he have been fooled like this?

He told you two major secrets and now he’d probably have to drop the charges in exchange for your silence.

You really got to him because you seemed to be the biggest fan of Mountain Man, you seemed to appreciate his hard work, but now he didn’t think any of your praises were genuine. He couldn’t even go on social media. All the hashtags were ALWAYSHEREFORYUTA, WEWILLPROTECTYUTA, CRAZYSTALKER.

And they just reminded him of how weak he became.

“LOOK! TMZ just got her mugshot! I’m so happy they’re exposing this bitch, I hope they release her address and family information.”

Ashley smirked when she pulled up the picture of your mugshot on Yuta’s phone.

“Ashley...you need to leave...” Yuta sat up on the couch and looked at the floor. He couldn’t take anymore of Ashley’s annoying voice and he really wanted to be alone to relax and decompress after what happened.

“Oh, my poor little meow meow, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Ashley sat back down on the couch beside him and tried to take his jaw in her hands but he backed away.

“Not now, Ash..I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ashley scoffed and slowly got up from the couch.

“Okay...let me know if you need anything.”

Yuta breathed a sigh of relief once he heard the front door close. He could hear tons of fans outside of his front gate cheering for him when she opened the door and it made him sick. He doesn’t feel proud. Because the truth is, the necklace wasn’t his. It just “appeared.” But here he was defending his possession of it and it didn’t feel right.

Yuta bit his lips then looked down at his phone which was still open with the article that included your mugshot.

He looked away at first, but then looked back down when something caught his eye. He looked more closely at the photo.

Your eyes.

He’d seen them before. Of course he had, but this time..they were different. They reminded him of something, someone.

The color of your cheeks and the depth of your beautiful eyes, the tone of your gorgeous soft skin and the curve of your lips. He had seen it before.

It took him a moment to realize.

The painting.

You were the woman in the painting that found itself in his bathroom. You were the same woman that wore a necklace just like the one he sold.

He looked over the messages you sent him on his seller account. It was like clockwork, every time something appeared in his house and he posted it online, you would message him about it to ask that he return it.

She was telling the truth. Yuta thinks to himself. He could punch himself right now. He was so rude to you for no reason. It was your stuff that kept popping up in his house and he didn’t understand why, but he knew that you were innocent. The painting was huge so it’s not like you placed it there by yourself to mess with him.

He threw on his jean jacket and headed out the door to go to the police station.

He had to fight through the screaming fans outside of the station that were waiting for a chance to attack you, the police officers gathering around him to move him through the hectic crowd.

Once inside, he went to the front desk and immediately told the officer that he wanted to drop all charges against you.

“You’re one lucky girl...” The officer said as she opened the gate of your cell.

“What?” You looked up at her questioningly and stood up from the wooden bench that had made your butt sore.

“He’s here for you..you know, the good looking rocker dude.” She unlocks your handcuffs and walks you out of the cell.

You’re relieved but can’t seem to smile, what’s going on?

Yuta was signing paperwork as you walked up to him.

“Yuta..you asshole.”

“That’s no way to speak to the man that just got your ass out.” Yuta looked up and sighed.

You scoffed. “You’re the one that put me in there! And I’m supposed to thank you?” You pushed past him and headed for the door. You started to walk down the stairs, but you were quickly stopped by the officers that stood out front.

“What the-“ you started when you saw the enormous crowd outside of the station. They were Yuta’s fans and paparazzi. They rapidly snapped so many pictures of you, you had to close your eyes and cover your face, the flashing lights being all too much for you. All you could hear were the thunderous ‘boo’s’ of Yuta’s fans.

Yuta was used to noise and flashing bright lights so he quickly came up behind you and turned you around. He held your head and pressed it onto his chest lightly.

You started to cry when you heard the names everyone was calling you over a simple misunderstanding. How could you be a ‘normal’ person after all this? All you wanted was your necklace and now you were overwhelmed by this new and unwelcoming spotlight.

“Shhh..don’t cry, it’ll be okay..I got you.” Yuta whispered into your ear as he patted your head softly.

You relaxed into him more, enjoying the comfort of his broad chest.

“Put your arms around my neck. Just trust me, okay?” Yuta’s soft tone made you shudder even though you still hated him.

But you did as he instructed.

He then picked up your legs and held you in his arms bridal style. The fans roared even louder but Yuta ignored them. He marched down the stairs towards his car while police blocked them from the two of you. He was able to lay you down on the backseat of his Range Rover before jumping into the front seat and speeding away from the madness.

Once the two of you were somewhat safe and far from the police station and his fans, Yuta exhaled.

He turned to look at you when he got to a red light. You were huddled up with your back facing him while you laid down on the surprisingly comfortable backseat. You had stopped crying, but you were still angry.

“Listen, I’m just as frustrated as you are. But we need to talk about this. What the hell is going on?” Yuta let out.

“I don’t know, maybe we should’ve talked before you had security take me away. Then all of this shit wouldn’t have happened. Oh and frustrated?” You scoffed.

“Did you just spend over 8 hours in a cold prison cell for stealing a necklace that belonged to you in the first place?!”

“You’re the one that broke into my house! Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I tried to message you but you insisted on being a jerk to make quick cash off of someone else’s belongings.”

You pulled your phone out of your pocket.

“Have you seen this shit? Your girlfriend just had a press conference and is calling for all makeup brands and agencies to swear to never hire me! I hate you, I can’t believe you put me in jail and essentially, ended my whole career!”

Yuta sighed. “I’m sorry, y/n. I really am, don’t look at social media right now, and your career isn’t over, we’ll get this sorted out.”

“How did you find out the truth anyway?” You asked.

“I recognized you in the painting, you had the necklace on.”

“The painting? Wait, you have that too?” Your eyes widened.

“Yes, and I was stupid to not realize it was you sooner. I—was an idiot, y/n. I hope you can forgive me. As a matter of fact, you can expose me as the Mountain Man if you want, you can expose everything.” Yuta was genuinely sorry for what he put you through. The whole world knew who you were now. You were famous, but not in a good way. Yuta had millions of fans and you were pretty sure you were the second most hated person in the world on twitter right now, behind Donald Trump of course.

“Yuta...I don’t want to get even with you, I want my life back.” You closed your eyes and started to drift off into a deep sleep while he drove.

Yuta cursed himself, he felt a bond being created with you and now he ruined it. And he had to admit that he had started to admire the woman in the painting, the woman he wanted to know even though his soul felt he already knew her. And now, the beautiful woman was right next to him, and yet, so far away.

^_^

When you got back to Yuta’s place, you entered through the garage so no one could see you get out of his car.

Yuta took you to his security room where he could watch footage from all of the cameras inside and outside of his house.

He reached for your hand to guide you through the large mansion, but you didn’t take it this time.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Explain to me why you keep taking my stuff.”

“I don’t take anything. It just..appears.” Yuta walked quickly to the room.

“I'm gonna prove it to you right now.”

Yuta pulls up footage from the night the painting appeared in his bathroom, but every time he fast forwards to the exact moment that the painting appears, the footage cuts out.

“Did you see that? The second that my camera cuts to black is the moment that the painting just magically appears.”

You blink rapidly. “Play it again.”

Yuta replays it and you both watch the unexplainable. Chills run down your spine as you are creeped all the way out.

“I’ll show you the night your necklace popped up in my kitchen.”

It felt like you were watching something from Paranormal Activity and although you were a big fan of horror movies, you sure didn’t like being in one.

The same thing happened. There is a second of footage that is cut out and right after, the footage plays again with the new item in frame. It didn’t make any sense.

Yuta looked at you as you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of what he saw.

You were so beautiful, your long lashes batting slowly, your pursed lips and cute nose. Why was he so drawn to you? The magnetic pull he felt towards you became even stronger now that he knew you were the woman in the painting.

“Where is it now, Yuta?”

“Where’s what?” Yuta was only thinking about your face. For a moment, he forgot what you were even doing there.

“The necklace.” Your doe eyes shifted upwards to his.

Yuta sighed and looked away to the floor. “I—was upset, so I already sent it to the buyer.”

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath.

“Yuta...we have to get it back, you don’t..you don’t understand.”

“They won’t give it back to me, y/n. They already know that I’m the user that sold it, it’ll be even more valuable now.”

“But it’s priceless to me, Yuta!” You yelled before tears ran down your cheeks.

“y/n..” Yuta stepped forward to hug you, and you let him. His arms held you tightly. “We’ll work this out, I’ll get it back if it means that much to you.”

“My grandmother was a painter, she’s the one that created that painting for me. She was the best..” you sniffled as you rested your head on his chest again.

“She was the one that taught me about creativity, color and believing in your art.. she’s the one I looked up to when I was growing up. I spent most of my time with her when my parents would fight..which was pretty often.”

Yuta smoothed your hair as you spoke.

“But one day, she lit a candle..she forgot to blow it out before falling asleep on her couch and a fire started to spread..”

“y/n..I’m so sorry.”

“The oil paintings allowed for the fire to become huge and made it impossible for her to escape..she died before firefighters could get to her, the only thing that survived the fire was that necklace. She held onto it..for me. She said she would give it to me one day when I was old enough.” You sobbed once more.

“y/n..I promise you I will do everything I can to get it back.”

You sniffled then looked up at Yuta. “Please, Yuta.”

He nodded. “ I promise.”

Just then you felt something walk between your ankles. When you looked down, you were startled to see your cat, Totoro.

“What the hell? Why do you have my cat? I’ve been looking for him everywhere, but he’s old and just kinda does what he wants.” Totoro’s abrupt entrance makes you stop crying.

“What? YOUR cat? He’s in my house, he’s mine now.” Yuta says sternly.

God, why was he so possessive?

You looked back up at him and pushed his chest away, you suddenly remembered the kind of man Yuta was.

“He’s MY cat, you fool. You didn’t even raise him. You probably lured him in here by giving him food!” You picked Totoro up.

You still hated Yuta, however, it was like a weight had been lifted once you told him about the significance of the necklace.

You turned to leave Yuta’s place through the back entrance you entered through.

“Prove it, prove he’s yours, what’s his name?” Yuta looked hurt that you were taking Totoro away from him.

“It’s Totoro, bitch.” You rolled your eyes and continued walking straight-faced with your cat in hand.

Yuta’s eyes grew, he was left speechless.

The two of you finally got to the garage.

You turned to him.

“You owe me a ride home, and after that, I never want to see you again.”

^_^

Yuta drove you back to your apartment, apologizing multiple times. This day he apologized more times than he has ever apologized for anything in his life. It had to be some sort of record.

You were tired because this truly had been one of the longest days of your life. You wanted a warm shower and to hug Totoro to sleep.

Yuta parked his car in front of your building and turned to look at you. “y/n...”

“Thanks for the ride back,” you muttered as you and Totoro walked back to your apartment.

You looked so dejected and devoid of any emotion. This entire misunderstanding did a number on you. And it was his fault. He had to act fast if he was going to make this up to you.

Little did you know that a pair of serpentine eyes watched you from across the parking lot. Ashley laid low in a car she typically wouldn’t be caught dead in and watched her man drive that freak home. That was when she saw that you were carrying that mangy cat in your arms.

“So it was her cat?” She asked herself. She pulled out her phone as she took pictures of you leaving Yuta’s car and pictures of Yuta’s license plate.

Once you were out of sight, Yuta just idled there. For a little too long. It drove Ashley crazy. How could Yuta be so kind to this nobody? After everything you did?

You were inferior to her in every way, Ashley thought. Yuta was a fool for looking at anyone but her. She had to do something so you could be out of the picture forever.

She would be damned if Yuta left her for an unemployed, disgraced nobody. Ashley pitied you because she wasn’t finished with her reign of terror on you. Not by a long shot.

^_^

A few days have passed since your name became the most searched on all social media platforms. You prayed something juicier could distract the public so you could become insignificant again.

A news article came out that Yuta dropped the charges against you and that you were innocent. Unfortunately, the deranged and delusional members of the public (aka the Yutastans) already made up their mind about you. And today, shit hit the fan once again.

Delilah sat with you on the couch as you binge watched Riverdale. It cheered you up to roast the show with your best friend. Things almost seemed like they hadn’t changed.

Delilah checked her phone and nearly choked on her glass of water.

“What is it?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

Delilah set her glass down as she stared at her phone. “That’s our apartment complex. Fuck.”

“Delilah, what’s wrong?” You had a bad feeling.

“y/n, it’s going to be okay. We will get through this,” she began and you motioned for her to hand you her phone.

Delilah reluctantly handed it to you as you read the article on her phone.

Yuta Nakamoto’s Crazy Stalker Is Actually His Side Chick?

That was the headline and your heart plummeted. There were pictures of you holding Totoro as you got out of Yuta’s car when he brought you home.

“What the hell,” you started, “Who took these?” You demanded.

Someone knocked at your door and you shrunk into the couch. Delilah looked at you in concern and she went to answer the door. You both feared who it could be.

She checked the peephole and exhaled. “It’s Yangyang.”

She opened the door and Yangyang ran in. “y/n, are you okay? I saw-“

Shutting the door. Delilah raised her hand up to stop him. “We just saw the article.”

Yangyang cursed. “Someone leaked those photos to the paparazzi. I‘ll help you track down who did this, y/n.”

You sat there in silence. What could you say? What was the point? It was your word against the public who never believed in you. Not only do they think you stole things from Yuta but they now considered you a homewrecker.

And it was only a matter of time before your home address was leaked.

Delilah and Yangyang looked at each other in concern. Delilah deliberated. “She came home with Totoro that day. It was last Thursday. Around...4 PM?”

Yangyang nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s been a while since I’ve hacked into the complex’s security footage.”

That got a reaction out of you. “You mean you’ve done this before?”

Yangyang smiled wide, happy to see you react to that. “Someone paid me a hefty sum to catch their cheating husband in his shenanigans. I use my powers for good. You know this.”

Delilah scoffed. “You are such a little weirdo.”

He rolled his eyes at the word “little”. He typed away at his keyboard. He chuckled. “Amateurs. They changed one number in their password. Lazy.”

Yangyang navigated through the parking lot security footage. Based off of the angle of which the photo was shot, he was able to pinpoint where the culprit was hiding.

“A 2019 Lexus,” Yangyang said, “License plate ASHL3Y.”

Delilah let out a sarcastic laugh. “Golly gee, whoever could that be...”

You got up from the couch and checked the footage with Yangyang. “I believe it. She hated me even before she met me.”

“She’s the crazy stalker, if you ask me,” Yangyang said.

You sighed. “What will it take for her to leave me alone?”

Your phone rang. It was an unknown number and you chose to ignore it, knowing damn well it was probably a Yutastan who was going to cast some sort of evil spell on you.

Then, immediately you got a text.

Answer the phone. Unless you want an angry mob to break into your apartment tomorrow. -kiss emoji-

^_^

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Ashley started. “Can I offer you a glass of lemonade? Some Brie and crackers?”

In Ashley’s penthouse suite, you sat with her in the living room. She sat across from you in a leather loveseat while you sat in a massive L-shaped leather sofa.

“What the hell do you want? You want to throw it in my face that you ruined my life and put not only my life in danger but my friends’ and family’s lives in danger, too?” You snapped.

Ashley laughed. Her voice was as irritating as that of any early 2000s socialite. “Don’t be so dramatic. No one knows about your family. Your friends at the complex are safe with some of my best security guards.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“None of this would’ve happened if you knew your place and left my Yuta alone,” she said, “So, how long?” She demanded.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“How long have you two been screwing around behind my back?” She asked.

It was your turn to bust out laughing. You almost cried. “I helped him with his shoot last Wednesday night. The closest I’ve ever gotten to Yuta was when he gave me one guitar lesson. He drove me home twice. Once from work and the second from when he picked me up from my jail cell. It was the least he could do after selling my stuff and oh...I don’t know...SENDING ME TO JAIL.“

Ashley didn’t believe you. “Right. Well, whatever happened between you two...It ends now. Or else I will keep making your life a living hell and destroy the lives of everyone around you.”

“Ashley, the last thing I want to do is see Yuta. I want to be a makeup artist and go back to the life I had before I met him.” Damn the connection you thought you two had. It would surely fade as quickly as it appeared.

Ashley began, “Which is why I have an opportunity for you.”

You frowned. “What?”

Ashley filed her nails as she spoke to you. “Timothée Chalamet’s new horror film begins production next month in Paris. There is an opening for the makeup team, y/n.”

You coughed. “What are you-“

She interrupted you, “Take the job and your name will be cleared. Your friends and family will be safe. Your dreams of becoming a successful makeup artist will come true...”

You knew she wasn’t finished so you waited for her to continue. She was so melodramatic.

“In return, you never come back to LA and leave Yuta alone forever,” Ashley said.

“I’ll have to come back to the city. You can’t ban me from visiting...That is, if I take the job,” you deliberated.

Ashley scoffed. “If?”

You sighed. “Ashley, LA is my home. It’s a big city.” You figured there had to be a way to compromise.

But you realized you were dealing with an unhinged diva.

Ashley said, “It’s a big city, sure. But as of now, every single person knows you as Yuta’s crazy stalker. It will stay that way if you don’t take this opportunity.”

You kept your mouth shut.

“I think I’m being pretty generous, all things considered,” she said as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “You would be stupid to turn this down. Want to stay a jobless pariah? Be my guest.”

Your hands were tied. As much as you despised Ashley for making things so much worse for you, she had the answer to your problems. And since you were done with Yuta, agreeing to never see him again didn’t even feel like a big price to pay. And Timothée Chalamet was a mega Hollywood Star. Participating in his film would surely open doors for you. If Ashley kept her word to clear your name. And Paris? You’ve dreamed of going to Paris for years. Your grandmother told you incredible stories of when she studied abroad and lived there for a few years. It was a chance to be closer to her. The sightseeing and the art were enough to make you giddy.

You refused to let this girl drag your name through the mud and jeopardize your loved ones’ lives because they were associated with you. It wasn’t right. This way, everyone could win.

“Okay, you win,” you said.

“Actually, y/n, we both win,” she said as she clinked her glass of champagne at you and drank from it.

^_^

Ashley’s driver took you back to the apartment. When you unlocked the door to your place, you were shocked to see Yuta seated on the couch with Totoro on his lap.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

Yuta shrugged. “You break into my house. I figured it’s only fair I break into yours.”

You sighed as you took your shoes off as you sat beside Yuta. Naturally, Totoro left Yuta’s lap to greet you.

He nodded. “Delilah let me in. I had to check up on you.”

Yuta kept in touch with your best friend without your knowledge. You realized that now. You’d have to talk to her about that later.

“Well, that’s nice and all but you have to leave,” you said as you averted your gaze from him.

Yuta ignored you. “Where did you go? I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I…went to an interview,” you said. There was no way you’d tell him about your meeting with Ashley. He had the mind to intervene and you didn’t want things to escalate any further.

He stared at you in disbelief. “What? For another job? y/n, I told you that you could come back to work with us.”

You shook your head. “If I so much as go to the same supermarket as you, there will be a bounty for my head.”

He shook his head. “The charges have been dropped, y/n. What happened today was…”

“The second of many hits to my career if we don’t stop this now,” you said.

Yuta replied, “y/n-“

“Which brings me to this…Did you get my necklace back?” You asked. If he said no, then you had the ammunition to kick him out. If he somehow got your necklace back…you would have to get even meaner.

Yuta’s face fell. “No, y/n…I reached out to the buyer and they haven’t responded.” He wondered if the buyer already sold it for more or if the buyer was biding his time to ask Yuta for money. “I traced the buyer’s address but they disappeared without a trace. I am so sorry.”

You sighed. “Okay.” You got up from the sofa and headed for the door. “Then, I guess that’s all that needs to be said.” You opened it and motioned for him to leave.

Yuta got up from the couch. “y/n, please we can fix this. As crazy as this sounds, I think I’m falling-“

You stopped him. “Yuta, we can’t. You need to go. You can’t get caught in this complex again. For your safety. And if you care at all about mine.”

Yuta froze. “I will do everything I can to clear your name. Please give me time.”

You couldn’t respond to his sweet voice. You had to resist. As much as you denied it, you felt something for Yuta. From the moment you heard his song “Breeze”, you connected with him before you even met him. His hard work, his talent, his sense of humor, his admiration of your work, his way with words with you before everything went to shit, even the way Totoro gravitated towards him. There was something special about him. Given other circumstances, you would’ve considered exploring a friendship with him. But even that was out of the question. “Goodbye, Yuta.”

He slowly walked out the door and looked back at you. His captivating brown eyes trying to pull you in again but this time, they were full of hurt and longing.

You shut the door, not waiting for him to walk away.

^_^

A couple of days have passed as Yuta reached out to multiple media outlets to clear your name. He admitted that he accidentally sold your necklace. Unfortunately, he couldn’t explain exactly how he’d come into possession of your necklace. So he said the best thing he could come up with: a family friend bought it at a garage sale and thought he might like to have it. Yuta started the account 1026you to sell the items he found around his home in order to raise funds for the LA LGBT Center. Aside from his regular donations from his earnings, Yuta thought he could sell your stuff to make some extra cash for the organization. Had he known that these random items belonged to you he wouldn’t have done that. Which begged the question:

How is it that you lived all the way across town and your stuff just magically appeared in his house? And why?

It seemed like some kind of divine intervention, if anyone asked him. For you two were connected and he only wanted to grow closer to you.

Except now he couldn’t. He failed to get your necklace. You were still blacklisted no matter what he said to multiple companies. He was thankful that you were still able to get an interview like you told him. He wondered if that company hired you. He hoped you were doing well.

Rehearsals for Skylark’s LA shows were still underway. Lily was rehired and Yuta apologized to her for being so rude. The dressing room wasn’t as lighthearted as it’d been when you were around. It was a short time that you were there but he missed you so much.

With Yuta’s heartache, he used music as an outlet. He thought about the night he first taught you how to play the guitar. There was one melody that lingered in his mind every day since. Now he took his time to work the song out of his mind. It was a song that you inspired him to write and he knew it was his best work. He hoped he could play it for you soon.

Yuta missed Totoro’s presence in his home. He didn’t realize how lonely he was until he lost you and your cat. Ashley popped in every day, insisting she stay over. So he begged his sister Suzuka to let him babysit her cat Thorn. Yuta claimed it was out of his hands to babysit Thorn so Ashley stayed less frequently.

Yuta drank a cup of green tea at his kitchen island. He had the day off before his solo press conference. His management wanted him to promote his album but he would also take the opportunity to clear your name.

He pleaded with his agency to let him cut ties with Ashley but Ashley’s agency wouldn’t budge. If Yuta broke up with Ashley, then Ashley’s agency would cut ties with Sky High Entertainment.

He hoped to convince Ashley to cut ties with him today. It was almost as if she was avoiding the conversation as the minute she came in, she ran into the bathroom to take a bubble bath.

“Yuta! Can you be a doll and rub this shower gel on my back?” She asked suggestively.

Yuta knew she was trying to get him in bed so he wouldn’t be able to think straight. These days Ashley seemed more repulsive than usual. Yuta was getting tired.

“No!” Yuta yelled outside the door. “When you finish up, meet me in the living room.”

She didn’t respond right away. She lowered her voice. “Okay…”

Another hour went by and Yuta still waited in the living room. Ashley was avoiding him. He was fed up and he went to look for her. Surely, she’d be out of the bath now. She couldn’t afford to let her skin prune for that long.

He overheard her laughing in his bedroom. “I gotta tell you, Melissa. You should’ve seen the look on her face when I picked her up from that ghetto apartment complex.”

Melissa laughed over the phone. Yuta recognized those nails on a chalkboard from whenever his band had a fan meeting. Melissa Lee, his fanclub president. Yuta frowned and tiptoed as quietly as he could.

Ashley continued, “All I had to do was offer her a job in Paris. Frankly, I’m being way too nice for my own good.”

Melissa replied, “Well, at least you got her out of Yuta’s perfectly shampooed hair.”

“That I did. So when are you going to post the YutAsh tribute video to your website?” Ashley asked as she fell onto Yuta’s bed.

Paris? What the hell did Ashley do?

He remembered how you were unaccounted for that day he went to see you. She said you had an interview. It was interesting how this interview fell on the exact same day those photos of you leaving his car were leaked. Who followed you two that day?

Of course, it was Ashley. Yuta realized how stupid he’d been. She’d basically conspired against you right under his nose. And he was furious.

But he had to be strategic. There was only one way he wanted to take Ashley down. And it would be in the way that hurt most.

^_^

Yuta’s press conference was at The Grove. Hundreds of fans were lined up from the night before. The media was in a frenzy. Your members and team were also in attendance so this was the talk of the town.

The announcer called you in. “Ladies and gentleman: Yuta Nakamoto.”

Yuta, in a gray custom-made business suit, radiated elegance and lethality, which many of his fans said was his unique charm.

Yuta got up to the podium and adjusted the microphone as he spoke into it. “Hello, I’m here to announce the release date of my first solo mini album.”

The crowd roared while the cameras flashed. There was a lot of talking from the journalists in the front.

He smirked. He was ready to give them something to talk about.

“The album comes out July 15th. Ashley and I have been fake dating and I’m here to say that it’s over.”

The crowd was in an uproar. The press yelled out questions. Yuta’s team was full of mixed reactions. His bandmates cheered and laughed. Baekhyun looked panicked. The company executives looked paler than they’ve ever been.

Ashley, who couldn’t have been more obvious as she gossiped with Melissa, almost fell over in her Jimmy Choos.

Yuta laughed. “I’ll take a few questions.” He pointed to a representative from Teen Scene Weekly.

“Yuta, is your breakup with Ashley because of y/n?” They asked.

Yuta sighed. “First off, Ashley and I dated to strengthen our respective companies. We were friends. We had a good time. For a while now, I’ve wanted to cut ties with her but out of respect for my company, I held on a little longer…However, after I politely asked for a breakup, I was denied. Now tell me…do you think that’s fair? After everything Skylark has given to the company? That we get used this way? I’m fed up with it.”

Yuta knew he only had a minute at most before he was pulled off the stage. Ashley yelled out, “Yuta, please stop!”

He continued, “Which brings me to y/n. She never did anything wrong. As I have gone on record to say twenty times in the past week, she never stole from me. She lost her necklace along with other possessions. Friends and family got these possessions for me from garage sales. That’s all I know. y/n is innocent. I made a huge mistake by having her arrested. She is an excellent makeup artist. One of the best in the business. I should know because I’ve been in this industry for seven years now. So if you’ve blacklisted her, then the joke’s on you. Because she has more talent than most of your employed artists ever hope to have. Lastly, to answer your question…y/n is not the other woman. She never was. I started falling for her but I never acted on it. Until now.”

The crowd was in a frenzy. A lot of the fans were crying and it made Yuta wonder if he had any true fans at all. If they cared so much about who he dated, then they didn’t see him as anything else other than their property.

Skylark’s security guards went to pull Yuta off the stage but he walked out on his own with his hands up in surrender. The guards escorted him to his car.

Yuta got into the driver’s seat and nearly screamed at seeing Ashley in the passenger seat.

“What the fuck?” He demanded.

“I had extra copies of your car keys made,” she said like she knit him a pair of mittens.

“Get out,” Yuta said with clenched teeth.

“You ruined me, Mr. Nakamoto. How are you going to make it up to me?” She asked. Her eyeliner ran down her cheeks. Her critically acclaimed face made her look like the wicked witch from Snow White.

Yuta laughed humorlessly. “I don’t owe you anything, Ash. You ruined y/n’s life and pushed her away from me. You knew I never loved you so why? Why keep this charade up?”

“We need each other We are perfect together. With your music and your bone structure and my beauty and me being a triple threat, we would be unstoppable. We can only help each other. Why can’t you see that?” She traced her fingers over his chest.

“I’ve heard enough. Please leave before I call security,” Yuta said in a low voice.

“Security?” Ashley scoffed. “Fuck off. No one calls security on me.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, already having dialed Tom, one of the security guards. “Yeah, Yuta?” He asked.

“Come back. Ashley broke into my car,” Yuta said quickly.

Ashley grabbed his phone. “Yuta! What have you done?”

Yuta sighed. “What I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He unlocked the door as the guards came running over to pull Ashley out of the car. She put up a good fight but the guards successful got her out.

She yelled out, “Well, you’re too late! Her flight to Paris leaves in a couple of hours.”

Thankful that Ashley always had a big mouth, Yuta backed away from the scene and raced to the airport.

^_^

You were on the plane, happy to have the row to yourself. You had to find some joy somehow. It wasn’t like you were being exiled from your hometown.

Totoro stayed with your mom. Once the shoot finished, you would get him back so you can relocate from LA. It still hurt to leave everyone.

Yangyang and Delilah agreed to move in together so he could save on rent and she wouldn’t have to pay for the apartment by herself. But you had a feeling there was something they weren’t telling you. You couldn’t wait for updates from both of them.

In a matter of eleven hours, you would be at the Charles de Gaulle airport, ready to embark on a new chapter in your life. You put your earbuds in and put your music on shuffle. The first song from the shuffle was ironically “Your Type” by Carly Rae Jepsen. It was a song about unrequited love and you were tempted to skip. Instead, you chose to wallow.

As much as you suppressed it, a part of you held onto thoughts of Yuta. Losing your possessions and finding them in Yuta’s place. You were both confused. Part of you wondered if there was something paranormal about it all. Maybe paranormal wasn’t the right word. Maybe…something magical?

Even so, too much damage had been done for you two to return to the friendship you had for a such a short but sweet time. And Ashley drove an even larger wedge between you two by threatening you. As much as Yuta frustrated you with everything else, you were even more frustrated that he was still with her. If it was fake, why did he keep it up? Didn’t he want to be with someone he loved?

Well, it wasn’t your problem. He was a big boy. He should be able to handle problems like this since he talked such a big game all the time.

So irritating, you thought, but also irritatingly cute.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a commotion on the plane.

“Sir, your seat is in 5A. Come back here!” A flight attendant yelled.

“y/n!” Yuta yelled as he ran down the aisle looking for you. He wore a large beanie and sunglasses so no one could recognize him.

The passengers looked alarmed at the disguised man yelling frantically. Yuta realized screaming wouldn’t help his case so he scoped out for you.

And then he saw you.

Your face was made up but you still looked like you lost many hours of sleep the past few nights. But still, you were the most stunning creature he’d ever laid his eyes on. Your eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept. Your lips slightly parted and Yuta bit his lip.

The flight attendant caught up to him. “Sir-“

Yuta raised his finger and nodded towards you.

The flight attendant calmed down. “You’re assigned to 5A. Why are you all the way back here?”

“Can I switch with whoever is supposed to sit here?” He asked.

The attendant frowned. “Why would you want to-“

“Please,” Yuta pleaded, “Sitting towards the front freaks me out.”

The attendant sighed. “Well, sir, you’re the last one on the plane so that seat appears to be available. Go ahead.”

Yuta smiled genuinely. “Thank you.”

The attendant was stunned and she had a feeling she recognized him. She shrugged it off and resumed her duties to get everyone situated on the plane.

Yuta exhaled in relief as he sat beside you. You looked so cute curled up in your chair but also very uncomfortable. He was tempted to offer you his shoulder but that would ruin the surprise.

Half an hour went by and you turned to your right to see the seat had been occupied by someone in glasses and a beanie. So much for having the row to yourself, you thought.

The stranger beside you said, “Morning, sleepyhead.”

You frowned as you opened your eyes more. “Hi…?”

But when you sat up, you saw his piercings and the curve of his lips. “Yuta?” You whisper-yelled.

He flashed his perfect set of teeth at you as he lowered his glasses. “Hey.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What are you-“

Yuta shrugged casually. “I felt like a trip to Paris.”

“Right…Who told you?” You asked. You dropped your defenses. For now.

“Surprisingly, it was Ashley. She may be a schemer but she’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed.”

You looked at him, noticing how disheveled he looked. He was soaked in sweat. He must have ran through the airport to catch this flight.

“Why are you so sweaty?” You asked.

“I ran,” Yuta said as he realized he must have looked as gross as he felt. And taking off his beanie was almost out of the question since his fuchsia hair dye made him stick out like a sore thumb.

You felt for him so you pulled some wipes from your bag and gave them to him. “That beanie looks uncomfortable so take this.” You handed him a cap instead. It was a Dodgers cap.

“Thanks,” Yuta said as he swapped the beanie for his hat and cleaned himself up.

“Well, good night again,” you said as you turned to the window and shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked. He mistook your acts for kindness for wanting to talk to him.

“We’re done here, aren’t we?” You asked. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“y/n, I…You can’t move to Paris,” he started.

“I accepted the position, Yuta. I can’t go back from an obligation.” You turned away from him and stared out the window. The attendants were giving their airplane safety spiel. You know you were about to ascend. “Unless you have a schedule in Paris, then you should leave. Before you’re stuck on this flight.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be, y/n,” he said softly.

His voice sent shivers down your spine but you pushed your feelings down. You couldn’t let him get to you. “You hurt me.” You let it out. Maybe if you kept this up, he would leave you alone.

Yuta sighed. “I know and I’m so sorry.”

Upon hearing him apologize, you perked up but you chose to keep your back turned.

Yuta went on to say, “I screwed up. Getting you arrested, fired, and hated by everyone. I screwed up even more by selling your grandma’s necklace. And I hate that I couldn’t get it back. More than anything. I know what Ashley did to you. It was wrong of her. She had no right. I finally broke up with her. In front of everyone.”

You turned to him, worried about the repercussions of the break up. “By everyone, you don’t mean…”

“At my press conference…”

You put a hand to your mouth in shock. “Ashley must be furious.” What did this mean for you now? What if Ashley retracted the offer and then you were truly left without a job or a home?

Yuta chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about that witch.”

You shook your head. “If you broke up with her, then she’s on the warpath.”

Yuta replied, “She’ll find another big name to terrorize soon enough. I’m close to contract termination anyway.”

You gaped. “What?”

“At the conference, I told everyone that Ashley and I were a fake couple. I broke up with her and then…I told everyone how I felt about you. I really like you, y/n,” He turned bashful, putting his hands in pant pockets.

“Yuta, are you crazy?”

He didn’t expect that response.

“How could you jeopardize your career for me? You barely even know me. Sure, we shared pizza and…we had a moment when you taught me guitar…But that’s not enough reason to put everything on the line.”

“y/n, you don’t understand. I feel like we really know each other. I can’t explain it,” he said, “Why do you think it is that your stuff kept popping up at my place? There’s some sort of cosmic connection between us. That’s not something we can ignore.”

He thought the same way you had about the things you lost and later found. But you were scared. Ashley made you a human target and you knew you could end this stress by leaving. You didn’t want to jeopardize anyone you loved.

You didn’t even want to jeopardize Yuta. Especially since he just risked his entire career for you.

“Yuta, we can’t. Being with me will ruin your career,” you said. The plane started moving across the tarmac.

“y/n…”

Now you two were stuck on the plane. You weren’t planning to budge and you prayed that when you landed in Paris that Yuta would catch the next flight back to LA.

Hours passed. You were so exhausted that you nearly fell asleep the entire plane ride.

Apparently, so was Yuta. You woke up finding yourself leaning against his shoulder and his neck was nuzzled against the top of your head. He still smelled like roses and vanilla, even after working up a sweat to get onto the plane. He was a fool, you thought to yourself.

But you were an even bigger fool because you didn’t remove yourself from him.

The pilot announced overhead, “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Paris. Bienvenue à Paris.”

You realized you’d been awake too long and hadn’t moved away quickly. You felt Yuta move so you pretended to have just woken up from the announcement. You quickly pulled away from him. Yuta rubbed his neck and watched you.

You left the plane with Yuta trailing behind you. You picked up your bags at baggage claim. Yuta grabbed one of your bags.

“Yuta, it’s fine. I have this,” you said as you pointed to the luggage cart.

Yuta relented and helped you put your bags on the cart.

He followed you to the arrivals section where drivers had their posters with the names of people they were picking up. You saw your name and identified yourself with the driver. The driver helped you with your luggage.

“Bye, Yuta,” you said quickly, not about to linger. You turned away when he took your hand.

“y/n, please…” He begged.

“Take care, okay?” You said as you pulled your hand away and caught up with your driver.

Heartbroken but unrelenting, Yuta was about to follow you when someone pulled his hat off.

“Oh my God, it’s Yuta! C’est Yuta. Skylark!” A girl yelled.

Yuta ran for cover, the gears shifting in his head for his next move with you.

^_^

It’s a few days later that you finally get to explore Paris. You haven’t heard a word from the fuchsia-haired boy, but you were trying to get over him anyway so you didn’t mind.

You had to realize that at the end of the day, he had his devoted army of fans and you..only had yourself. He didn’t need you, so surely he’d forget about you soon enough. You two had only known each other for a short time, regardless of it feeling like an eternity.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you get to the Eiffel Tower. It’s kinda cold, but the dreamy sunset draws in.

When you felt a sudden gust of wind, you closed your eyes and remembered Yuta’s warm chest on your back, the way his long fingers comforted and guided yours on the stiff strings of the guitar. His breath dancing along your ear while you shivered and felt goosebumps expose themselves.

The echoing bass in his voice that hit your heart..and other places too.

The sun was slowly retreating from the sky, but it was still bright..as bright as his smile, you missed it, even when he only showed it during his sarcastic, asshole moments.

His lips so full and soft, even the brush you used over them had a difficult time coloring to perfect something that didn’t need perfecting.

Ashley was one lucky girl. It was only a matter of time until she and Yuta got back together.

You looked to the ground and sighed. Why did you have to think of him? Even when one of the most beautiful pieces of art towered over you.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something so great in your life now. The connection you felt with him hit you like a train and there was nothing that could compare to it. It was so strong, it could probably compete with the earth’s gravitational pull to your body.

“Yuta..I hate you, I really do.” You whispered to yourself as you clutched your long jacket around your body. You tried to convince yourself that this was true so that you’d finally be at peace. Key word: tried.

In the front of the Eiffel Tower was a board that read the rules, opening times etc.

“Le Jules Vernes Restaurant..’closed tonight for a special event..damn it.” You had planned on treating yourself to a meal at the top of the Eiffel Tower so you could take in the view as long as some fresh air. But lucky for you, it was closed for that evening.

You licked your lips and sighed.

Would you ever have things go your way?

You were about to walk away when you heard a speaker being plugged in. The feedback was obnoxiously painful and loud, and got everyone’s attention. You all turned to see the source.

A guitar riff played soon after and you heard a chorus of whispers from people on the lawn.

“Oh my God..OH MY GOD ITS YUTA NAKAMOTO FROM SKYLARK!” A girl screams as she runs past you with another girl in hand, just barely holding on.

Shit.

You squint your eyes to look at the person that a crowd begins to form around and sure enough, it is your nemesis with the pink hair. He’s smiling widely and saying ‘hi’ to everyone as his bodyguards put their arms out to stop anyone from getting too close. His guitar is in his hands and his microphone has already been set up.

“Time to go back to the hotel.”

You turn and start to brush past all the people running to see Yuta perform.

“Yuta?! What is he doing here?”

“Holy shit! Yuta is about to perform for us!”

“Yuta from Skylark? Aren’t they about to go on tour?”

You overhear some of the comments and the last thing you want is for them to realize who you are, the infamous “crazy stalker,” so you duck and push through.

You don’t feel his eyes peering the crowd and eventually locking into your body as you walk away. His smile fades and he realizes he has to act quickly.

He strums out one chord on the guitar and the girls go into a frenzy.

“This song..is for someone that just entered my life. It’s only been a few weeks, but she’s changed it for the better. She knows me more than anyone else does and I honestly don’t know how I lived without her before.”

Yuta speaks into the microphone, making the growing crowd of listeners go silent.

You slow your pace but still don’t turn around. There’s no way he could be talking about you.

“Who is he talking about? Didn’t he just break up with Ashley?” You hear a few girls whisper.

“She doesn’t know it yet, but I don’t plan on living without her anymore..she makes my head spin, she makes me forget the words to songs that I’ve sung everyday for the past 3 years, she gives me the WORST case of butterflies...she truly is a nuisance, but I need her. y/n..”

You stop in your tracks and stare at the grass below your planted feet.

“Please don’t go..” Yuta’s eyes are wide, he just needs you to turn around and look at him, to give him a second chance.

The people turn to follow his line of vision, eventually seeing your body standing alone and far away.

“Oh my god it’s her.” They whisper.

You start to walk again when you hear the whispering yet overwhelming gossip. You’re just so tired of all of the attention you’ve been getting. Yuta was trying to make some grand statement to get you back, but he didn’t realize that this was the opposite of what you wanted.

“She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...” Yuta strums his guitar and sings.

“She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.”

You’re still walking but he continues.

“But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind..she’s the girl in the portrait, the girl with the necklace..the girl with my heart, but the girl I don’t know..I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me. She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see.”

You stop again, this time turning around to finally face him.

“No one knows me like you do, yes, you see the right through..and I know you won’t forgive me, I just hope you won’t forget me..because I know I’ll be thinking of you, yes you, the girl in the portrait.”

Your eyes start to tear up. The Mountain Man, the singer you so adored had written a song about you. And the melody was just as charming as his other songs. Were you that important to him that he created this song for you?

You stood there frozen as ice and stunned, with a thousand eyes on you.

“That was The Girl In the Portrait, I wrote it for y/n, because, well, it’s a funny story actually.” Yuta said as he put his guitar down and stood up. The crowd chuckled and clapped but people were still focused on you and waiting for your reaction.

This was one level above a public proposal and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Please..” Yuta said quietly.

You cursed silently. Your heart felt weak and you couldn’t just turn away like your conscious told you to. Your heart told you to forgive him and start over.

Yuta went all the way to Paris for you, he wrote a song for you and ditched his first tour date. He did it all for you. If that didn’t show his sincerity towards you, you weren’t sure what would.

‘I Hate You’ you mouthed before smiling.

Yuta ran towards you abruptly, making his bodyguards scurry behind him to push his fans away from him, they struggled to keep up as he dashed like Bolt towards you.

You braced yourself for impact from the 6-foot something man about to collide into you.

Yuta’s teeth showed brightly as he held out his arms and wrapped them around you. Wrinkles formed at the sides of his eyes.

He’s so filled with excitement, he lifts you three feet about the grace and bends backward.

“Yuta!” You laugh out at the sudden move, but he chuckles and brings you back down.

You breathed in his amazing scent before closing your eyes and adoring his warmth. You felt so at ease in his arms, everything faded away. The cries as well as cheers from his fans soon faded into the background. You rested your head in his chest and exhaled.

You lifted your limp arms that were once at your side and wrapped them around him while he rubbed your back. Having you in his arms tonight made it feel like Christmas Day. He never wanted it to end. Even with all the people staring and all the phones recording, he didn’t want this moment to end. He prayed that you would stay in his arms forever, for you were the only thing that made him feel comfortable and happy. You did for him what music could no longer do.

“y/n...”

“Mhmm?” you hummed, your eyes still closed while you enjoyed his embrace.

“I want to kiss you..”

Your neck nearly snapped when you looked up at him.

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“But not here..up there..will you let me?”

Yuta smirked and tilted his head towards the tower.

“Nice try, user 1026you, the restaurant is closed tonight.”

“For a special event, I know...that’s why it’ll just be me and you.” Yuta chuckled when your brows furrowed.

“Yuta..”

“I’d give you the world if you let me.” Yuta grew serious as he searched your eyes and swallowed hard. He ignored the fact that his bodyguards were having an increasingly difficult time with holding back his fans.

The two of you were surrounded by complete madness, but you felt alone..lost in each other’s eyes.

Your mouth was open slightly, you couldn’t believe that he actually booked the entire restaurant just for the two of you.

“So..You gonna let me give you a night in Paris to remember?”

You laughed and Yuta felt his chest weaken by the sight of your smile.

“You owe me big time..”

Yuta’s teeth twinkled. “We gotta run, ready?”

He took your hand and the two of you hustled to the entrance of the Eiffel Tower.

His fans ran after you two while you laughed and held onto each other tightly.

Everything happened in slow motion, the two of you moved like runaway lovers, chaos surrounded you but it didn’t matter, for you had each other. You looked over to see Yuta’s goofy smile.

The tour guide at the entrance was able to quickly let you in and close the door behind you to stop anyone else from following.

You found the elevator and got on.

Once at the top, you let go of Yuta’s hand to walk around and see the magnificent view. A million tiny lights decorated the streets of Paris. It was darker outside now, but you could still see the large crowd that surrounded the tower start to dissipate.

They looked like ants below you, slowly dispersing from the ants nest to get more food.

You were so stunned by the view, you didn’t notice that Yuta was watching you, your eyes gazing in amazement, your hair blowing softly in the wind and your bright smile that made even the moon seem bleak.

“y/n..” he called your name. There was something he wanted to see.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

And there it was. The pose from the portrait. You glancing over your shoulder so intensely. Your eyes large with wonder, your lips full and slightly parted, your hair shining in the moonlight. You are beautiful, Yuta can’t describe it, but he knows he is happy to be able to see an artwork come to life.

“Yuta?” You turned to him full and walked over. “What’s wrong? You’re staring again” you giggled.

“I’m happy.” Yuta smiles and looks down at you.

“Well, we’re in Paris at the Eiffel Tower! Of course you’re happy.” You chuckled and turned to look out at the city from a different angle, but Yuta took your hand in his and spun you around.

You tripped and fell onto his chest before looking up into his eyes.

“No...I’m happy because I’m with you.”

He whispered and your body felt weak. Luckily, he was holding you up so you could balance yourself.

He held you close and looked onto your lips which were just a few inches from yours. His breath slowed to match yours, you look into his lips and swallow hard.

“Y-Yuta.”

He leaned forward, placing a small kiss on your lips. Your eyes closed, his kiss made you feel like fireworks had been set off right there in your chest. It was magical even though it only lasted for a second.

Yuta was nervous, he wasn’t sure if you were ready. You held his head in your hands and looked into his eyes.

You then kissed him hard while tilting your head to the side. Yuta finally relaxes in your hands and kisses you back, opening his mouth so that he could lick your top lip.

His lips were fluffy and felt exactly like how you imagined them to feel. Silky, smooth. Even as he pressed harder, you couldn’t help but feel fragile like you’d collapse at any moment, your legs threatening to give out at any moment.

Soon, your tongues found each other and playfully danced while you struggled to keep your breathing stable.

Time slows down once again as you kiss for what feels to be days.

Yuta draws small circles and lines on your back as he pushes your body into his more. He wants more, so much more. He wants to feel you everywhere, and he can’t get enough of your touch, the way your dainty fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

But you have to pull away to breathe.

“Wow..you could’ve gone on for days, couldn’t you?” You try to catch your breath as you look up at him.

Yuta smirks. “I’m a singer, it’s called breath control.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’S cALleD BrEATh coNtRoL.” You mocked him.

The two of you laughed. Yuta took your hand to guide you to a table that had been set for the two of you.

It was weird being so high above the rest of the world. But you liked it. It was just you and Yuta. Nothing else. There was no Ashley, no fans, and no drama.

Yuta rubbed his reddened lips with two fingers.

“Let’s hurry up and eat..I want to finish what you started.”

“What I started? Sir, I recall you being the one that started that kiss!”

“Nah you gave me those eyes..” Yuta was teasing you again.

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair.

When you finished eating, you looked into the city again and felt an internal peace. There was something so comforting about being away from the madness. Yeah, your life wasn’t what it was two months ago, but you sure as hell felt all the madness was worth it.

Getting Yuta was worth it.

You leaned forward, placing your jaw on your hands.

“What are you thinking about?

Yuta watched your eyes searching the city again. The moonlight and single candle lit on the table brought out your smooth skin even more, as well as the outline of your nose and lips. He could watch you all night.

“I like the view,” you answered softly.

“You do?” Yuta’s brows raised.

“Yes..” you nodded.

“You’re my best view..” Yuta smiled widely.

You blushed. “Ehh.. I don’t know about that line.”

“Okay how about this one?

“I wish you didn’t have a name..so I could call you mine?” Yuta leaned forward to match your pose and place his head on his hands.

“Oh no..it’s getting worse.” You held your face in your hands, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise. You’re both a little tipsy from the alcohol you had at dinner.

“Are you from Paris? Because Ei-FELL for you..” he smirked and took your hands in yours so he could see you blush.

You laughed and melted into your seat. “Oh God, Yuta make it stop.”

“Okay, okay I’ll stop..but before we leave, I have something to give you.”

You sat up straight and gave a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry again about your grandmother’s necklace. I tried..I even called up your hacker friend YangYang for help, but he couldn’t find it either..I’m so sorry. I know I can never make up for that.”

Your face straightened and you blinked slowly as the reality settled in that you would never see your grandmother’s necklace again.

“But..I did get you this..I hope her memory can still live on through this..”

Yuta reaches into his pocket and hands a small box. When you open it you find a gold necklace with a shining stone surrounded by small pearls as the pendant . The resemblance between it and your missing necklace is strikingly similar. Your mouth falls open.

“My grandmother’s necklace was the only one of its kind...how..how in the world did you find this?”

You looked closely to see that the one difference was the stone in the center.

“I searched online and went to a few antique stores and met this strange lady..what was her name again? Was it Celeste or Cerulean? Hmm..wait! It was Cyan! Yeah I showed her a picture and she found it in her store for me.”

“Yuta..that’s amazing.”

And that’s when you realized what the color of the center stone was. It’s not purple, nor red. Not pink, nor magenta..no it’s..fuchsia.

Yuta was your soulmate..that’s why your things were disappearing. The universe was pushing you to him. You were destined to meet and fall in love. How could you not realize it sooner? That’s why you felt this undeniable pull towards him.

“What’s wrong?” Yuta grows concerned when he sees your eyes start to tear up.

“Nothing..nothing..it’s perfect, Yuta.” You decided not to tell Yuta because you couldn’t really explain it. Things were finally falling into place and you just wanted to spend time with him, for you didn’t know if you’d have the chance to be with him again..in this universe..or in another one.

“Let’s go home.” Yuta kneeled down and wiped your tears with his finger.

————

Yuta helps you out of the limo once you get to your luxurious hotel. He had the driver take you to a back entrance so his fans wouldn’t see the two of you.

“Thank you.” You let go of his hand and are about to start walking but Yuta grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp out in surprise. Your ass is in the air as you dangle over him.

“Ahh!! Yuta!”

“Shhh we came through the back for a reason.” Yuta chuckles then gives your ass a hard smack with his hand.

“Ahh! Damn it, Yuta!”

You lay out a string of curse words as Yuta gets into the elevator. He only smiles while strangers stare and wonder what in the world is going on.

When you get to the room, Yuta flips you from his shoulder and onto the bed. You plop down and feel your body bounce back up from the plush mattress.

“I swear to-“ you start but Yuta leans down over you, attacking your lips as soon as you open them to make some snarky comment.

He liked hearing you talk back to him, but he liked kissing you even more.

You lick his bottom lip, then kiss his lips again, enjoying the way both of your lips grow wet from each other.

He was just as playful with his tongue, letting it place kitten licks on the soft surface of your lips, he kissed softly, teasingly. It was almost ticklish. You felt your chest rumble.

You closed your eyes and traced your hands up Yuta’s back, pressing him into you more.

The bitter taste of alcohol stayed on your lips and your head felt light, you both felt like you were getting drunk all over again.

Yuta presses into you more, running his hands along your sides before holding your face as he guides the passionate kiss.

You pushed your body upwards and grinded onto Yuta, feeling his member poke through his jeans. You placed a finger into his belt loop, pulling him downwards. You then wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed them over his back to bring his body closer to yours even more.

Yuta took the hint and pushed into you slowly, grinding his covered member against your covered, but increasingly wet entrance.

You moaned into his mouth when you felt him press onto your weak spot teasingly. You trembled under him, hands shaking as they clawed at his back lightly.

It felt like a bouquet of flowers were slowly opening up in Yuta’s chest. You were the most beautiful melody, the graceful echo of godly chords being played in a church organ, you were the angelic singing heard all the way from heaven. That’s what you felt like to Yuta. And he had to write about you, he had a hundred songs already in mind to write about you.

He prayed that you wouldn’t stop kissing him this time, that you wouldn’t have to pull away to breathe.

He didn’t know that you felt the same way, that he felt like a day at Disney that you didn’t want to end. He felt like a birthday surprise happening over and over and over. He was the glass of water after a long run. He made you feel euphoric just from an embrace like this. With the two of you finally being alone together, it was like the stars had collided to create something so beautiful, extraordinary and new.

But still, you were scared. Now that you found your soulmate, would he disappear? What if this was your last night in this universe? You couldn’t remember anything about your life before, but you knew that you were somewhere else before all of this.

And could something this good last? Were you really away from all of your troubles?

You were deep in your thoughts and without realizing, you kissed Yuta so hard, you accidentally bit his bottom lip.

Yuta pulled away. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” He rubbed the blood from his lip, eyes growing wide.

“N-no, Yuta..I’m sorry. It’s just..” you swallowed hard then licked your lips.

“What if..this is it? What if we won’t be together after tonight?”

You played with the collar of his shirt to distract yourself.

Yuta tilted his head then placed his hands on either side of your head to hold himself up.

“y/n..I don’t plan on letting you go..ever. You make me feel..” Yuta didn’t know how to describe it either.

“Amazing.” But that wasn’t enough, it was much more than that. So much more. No word in the entire dictionary could suffice for the feeling he had.

“And if the universe allows..It won’t be the last night. It’ll just be the first of many.” He gave you a wink. “What do you say? Let’s give it a try?”

You nodded and licked your lips.

“And uh..how far do you want to go because I..” Yuta looked down at your linked bodies.

You blushed when you realized what he was looking at. It was the outline of his member sticking out in his jeans and aiming towards the apex of your legs.

You thought about the chances of this being your first and last night together, and knew you wanted to experience it with Yuta. If just kissing him made you euphoric, how would making love feel?

You nodded. “I want you to make love to me Yuta, love me like it’s the last time.” You rubbed his flexed biceps and he grew weak. The combination of your gentle touch and doe eyes while those sweet words left your mouth made him feel like he’d lost all feeling in his legs.

“It won’t be the last time, but it will probably be the best time since we’re in the city of romance. Don’t expect too much from me when we do this again, okay?”

You nodded, giggling as you held his belt again. He glanced down at your hands as they fiddled around.

He chuckled then looked back up at you. “Is your name Paris, because I think my Eiffel Tower belongs in you?”

“Yuta!! I swear to G-“ you started again, but he quickly placed his mouth on yours, taking the air as it left and circling your top lip with the tip of his tongue.

You both ran out of patience, taking each other’s lips in between your teeth. You shimmy out of your jacket and Yuta tosses it to the side. You tug the hem of his black t-shirt and help him take it off over his head, his hair becoming rustled in the process but it gives him a cute, messy look. You can’t help but laugh.

Yuta smirks and rubs his hands up and down your thighs while gazing into your eyes, pressing into the soft squishy skin to massage them.

You bite your swollen lips, knowing that he’s watching your chest rise up and down under him.

“I could stare at you all night.” He whispers.

“I know..but I want you to make love to me first.” You say as you start to unbutton your blouse.

Yuta watches your fingers play with the buttons, allowing for several inches of your skin to be revealed each time. He licks his lips but waits for you to finish and reveal yourself to him, gripping the crook of your knees while he waits.

“Yuta..” you breathlessly call out his name before biting your lips. Your voice makes him dizzy, he wants to hear you say his name over and over again like a broken record, because you just sound so..heavenly. No song could compare.

He leans forward, placing his hands on yours and gripping the bow separated fabric. And it’s like he’s opening his curtains to see a bright, sunny day after a scary thunderstorm.

He opens it slowly, staring at the small space between your breasts that he wants to decorate so badly.

You stare at his neck and then his abs, all the places you want to kiss passionately while listening to his low groans.

Yuta takes the sleeves of the shirt down your arms, his fingertips lightly touching your skin but still leaving an intense rush flowing through your veins.

You lock eyes as he tosses it to the side with the jacket.

He lowers his head to your chest and breathes over it, leaving a steamy breath over your nipple. You shiver under him and let out a moan.

“Yuta..” You arch your back, desperate to feel him on you. Having him inches away from your skin just isn’t enough, especially when he’s shirtless and daunts his stunning body over yours.

But Yuta doesn’t respond. He licks your nipple and looks up to see you tremble once again. He can feel the response from your body under him even though he’s not touching you.

“Please..” you put your hand onto his back and rub it softly to push him along.

He kisses in between your breasts, then sucks hard, biting the skin to leave a mark.

You cry out his name again, this time, your fingers going through his thick hair as he moves on to suck your nipple.

He presses his tongue firmly and flat against it, then pleases a sloppy kiss onto it.

He massages your other breast while his mouth continues to work on the first, sucking hard so he can hear you say his name once again. He circles around the areola with the tip of his tongue at a pace so slow, you start to go insane. He then flicks the tender tip with his tongue as you throw your head back and moan.

You push your body upwards but Yuta pulls away. As expected, he teases you, wanting to draw this moment out for as long as possible.

“Yuta..please touch me.”

He looks into your large eyes as you beg, but then he looks down to your breasts and isn’t satisfied so he pays attention to the other breast, switching between gentle and firm sucking. Your moaning gets louder and louder, and you’re happy that Yuta paid for the suite that takes up one floor.

His large hand cups your breast, his fingers pressing into the skin and pumping it slowly.

His plush lips kiss everywhere, lighting fires of feeling across your sensitive skin.

Yuta then starts to grind down into you. Your opening is still covered by the rough fabric of your jeans, but aching nonetheless. The sudden contact made you jolt upwards. You’re so wet and needy, you’re sure you’re soaking through your jeans at this point.

Yuta quickly drags your jeans down your legs, you start to kick them off and let it fall to the floor.

“You’re so wet, baby.” Yuta stares at your soaked panties and smiles.

He retakes his position, placing his hands on either side of your head again, and sucking on your nipple.

This time he sucks harder, humming as he grinds down into you to hear you whimper loudly. The vibrations allow for a tingling sensation to echo through your skin, you feel lightheaded, your jaw locking, and your vision fading.

“Yuta!”

You say before releasing. Your grip on his hair tightens as he continues to suck on your skin while you cum. You moan loudly and breathe heavily..you slowly start to come back to Earth.

“Oh, you’re loud..but I like that.” Yuta gives you a wink then runs his fingers over your underwear.

“I didn’t even touch you and you came.” He says smoothly.

You jerk at the feel of his fingers parting your folds to collect your essence.

“You cocky bastard.” You say breathlessly.

Yuta only smirks as he walks around the bed and to a wall beside it.

“I forgot to show you this..” he presses a button and looks up at the ceiling.

You kneel on the bed and move to the center of it.

The white covering separates from the center, opening up to reveal a window.

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open when you see the beautiful night sky, dazzled by twinkling stars. And even though it is late at night, you can still see traces of sapphire blue and small, faint lines of indigo.

There’s nothing like it. You can see why Van Gogh painted Starry Night.

“So we’re gonna fuck in front of the stars?” You ask bluntly, gaining a loud chuckle from Yuta.

“I promised to give you the best night you’ve ever had so..yes.” His eyes squinted when he laughs again.

“Yuta..this is..”

“Amazing? Legendary? Extraordinary? Yeah I know” he put his hands on his hips as he watched you gaze.

You roll your eyes and turn to him. “Come here..”

You head over to the edge of the bed and get on your knees. Yuta walks over to you, watching your hands unhook his belt and tug his jeans down.

You lean back and fall into the center of the bed while waiting for him to kick off his jeans and get on the bed.

Yuta nearly trips and falls as he struggles to take his jeans off while watching you. You start to take your panties down your legs but Yuta stops you.

“No! I wanna unwrap the present.”

“Ugh, you’re so weird.” You hold your face in your hands again.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Yuta grabs your ankle and squeezes hard.

“Oh!” You yelp out at the pain and look down at him, watching as he crawls over your slowly on the plush bed.

He takes the waistband of your panty in between his fingers and slowly drags it down while looking into your eyes. Your heart starts to race again. He’s so close to your wet and needy entrance, but you feel the sharp, icy slap of cold air once you’re exposed.

“Beautiful..” Yuta adores your naked body below him.

He traces his fingers on the surface surrounding your folds, just pressing shy of them to make you writhe.

“Yuta..please.”

He rubs two fingers along your folds painfully slow, using the side of his long fingers to part them.

Yuta retreats his fingers and puts them into his mouth.

“So good.” He breathlessly lets out. He teases your entrance again, his spit and your essence now mixing as he presses nearly perfect circles into your core.

You can feel the knot in your stomach start to build again. Your mouth falls open as you moan.

You arch your back and hold onto the sheets with a grip so tight, you felt your knuckles become white. You look up at the stars and think to yourself how beautiful it is out there. You feel your spirit start to ascend while Yuta plays with your clit.

Your legs start to shake and threaten to close completely as you grow more and more sensitive to his touch.

Yuta uses his other hand to pump then align himself with your opening.

His length glistens with pre cum, the tip red and veins pumping fiery blood through it.

He’s more than ready now and you can’t wait to take him.

“Open up for me.”

You don’t hesitate to spread your legs further apart so your hips align with his.

He leans down and holds himself over you with both hands, looking into your eyes before kissing you enthusiastically, tugging your lip between his teeth so you can call out his name again.

He pushes into you slowly while you kiss.

Yuta drinks in your moan and groans when he feels your silky walls surround him.

He lets go of your lips and buries himself into the crook of your neck. He breathes deeply, pushing into you again.

“So tight, fuck.” He whispers.

You take a deep breath and look at the stars above you to stop yourself from coming already.

He starts to thrust into you again, but you let out a quiet whimper.

“Shit..I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. K-keep going.”

You rub his back to push him along.

He begins to rub your clit, your mouth falling open into a silent cry.

He pushes all of himself into you then pulls out, groaning once again when he buries himself back inside.

He grinds against your silky walls while holding you close and rubbing small circles into you.

Your heated bodies comfort each other as they are finally connected, working towards the same goal.

Yuta smells like a combination of amber and musk, but feels like a soft blanket during winter, his muscular arms holding your body still while also hugging you in the most passionate embrace you’ve ever experienced during sex.

His heart beat matches yours, his breath attaches itself to your neck. His throaty moans begin to get louder and louder.

Your fingers run through his hair while you whimper.

You’re so close.

Yuta moves faster, harder, pushing into you so hard, the bed starts to move.

He lifts himself from your chest and looks down at you. Your saddened by the coldness you feel between your bodies now but Yuta is so beautiful. His magenta hair now wavy, some strands sticking to his forehead, leftover eyeliner smudging and bringing out the depth of his eyes.

He grabs your ankles, completely enclosing his fists around them before placing them into his shoulders.

He grinds into your entire body at a different angle now, the pressure on your g-spot increasing significantly. “That’s feels good, Yuta..oh my G-“

You start to clench around him, making him groan and push into you harder.

“y/n..” he whispers while looking into your eyes. “You’re beautiful..in every way.”

His surprisingly sweet words make you smile.

You gaze at the stars, but your vision starts to blur. You can’t think of anything but Yuta, the feeling is so amazing, you can’t describe it. To be filled up by him, to be completely enraptured by him, there is nothing like it. The knocking of the headboard against the hotel wall and the sounds of skin on skin brings you to the edge.

You grip the sheets tightly as your eyes close.

They roll into the back of your head and your back arches. The euphoric feeling takes over and you swear your spirit leaves your body for an entire minute.

Yuta fucks you through your high but pulls out and releases onto your belly soon after, experiencing the same overwhelming feeling in his spirit too.

He collapses onto the bed beside you and looks up at the stars, taking your hand into his and squeezing it gently.

You look over at each other and laugh, it’s as if you were both thinking the same thing. How did you climax so hard?

Several minutes pass and you’re about to get up to get a towel but Yuta holds your hand.

“I’ll get it, just relax, baby.”

He comes back with a wet washcloth and gently cleans you up.

“I love you..” he says quietly.

“Yuta..it’s a bit early for that.”

He nods while cleaning up the strings on your belly. “I know..but I can’t shake this feeling. I think you’re the one..I think you’re my..soulmate.”

You’re stunned to hear Yuta speaking like this. If he realized you were soulmates, what would happen now?

“I mean, I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing, but..”

“I agree, Yuta..I think you’re my soulmate, which is why I’m scared to lose you..good things never last.” You say quietly and avoid his eyes.

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay..I know we’ll be okay. Just trust me, okay?”

Yuta crawled over you and gave your forehead a light peck.

You made love again then cuddled all night, but when morning came..so did reality.

————

You jump up at your desk, startled by a harsh gust of wind against your back.

What just happened? Where are you? Where is he?

You look around you and see towering wooden shelves filled with books.

How did you end up here?

“y/n? You okay?” You hear a young voice call to you.

You turn to see Charlotte, the 13-year old volunteer at the library.

The Library

Shit. You’re back.

You hold your head in your hands and wail.

Charlotte rushes over to you, hugging you tightly while shushing you.

“Y/n! Y/n! Be quiet! We’re in a library, you can’t be loud like this!”

You sniffle. “I know! But it was so good! I was so happy there!”

“What? Are you talking about your dream?”

That’s all it was..a sweet dream, an imaginative universe you only had a quick taste of...nothing was real now. How on Earth would you find him? You were back to reality.

Totoro walked across the desk and meowed.

You looked at him and pouted.

You knew who you were..a boring librarian that owned a cat named Totoro..but who was Yuta in this universe?

How would you find him?

“y/n?” Charlotte called out to you. “Do you want to go home?”

Several weeks passed and you slowly started to assimilate back into your old life. You googled his name but found nothing, he was nowhere to be found.

You just had to accept that it was a dream, a dream followed by the nightmare of reality.

You hoped that you would find your soulmate again, but you knew the chance was little to none. So you did what you did before. Work, eat, spend time with your best friend and roommate Delilah, sleep, then wake up to do it all over again.

Love didn’t have a place in your life, could you even come to accept a loved other than Yuta? Damn him for giving you a night in Paris to remember.

———

“The true crime section is in row 13.” You pointed to a large sign hanging from above reading “TRUE CRIME NOVELS.” You wondered how anyone could miss it, then again old people were usually the ones that needed the most help when they came to your library.

You turned back around to your returned-book cart that you were taking books from to stack the shelves with. But you noticed that it was now empty.

You were 75% sure that you didn’t put away ALL of the books before turning to help the senior citizen, yet all of them were gone.

All..except for one that had fallen to the floor. It was open when you picked it up. When you looked at the page that it was open to, you realized that it was a book of poems.

The poem it was opened to read:

She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...

She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.

But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind

You squint your eyes, where have you seen this before?

she’s the girl in the portrait

the girl with the necklace

the girl with my heart

but the girl I don’t know

I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me

She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see

The girl with the necklace..

That’s it! It’s Yuta’s song! He wrote this, he’s out there somewhere. Perfect! Now you could track down the author and find him-

But wait.

You looked down to see the author’s name.

The One in the Middle

“Shit. It’s just like him to not put his real name on his work.”

You opened your laptop and immediately went to google.

“Who is the author named ‘The One in the Middle’?” You said as you typed.

Nothing. Nobody knew who he was. Many asked about his other poems, but there were no answers, only fan groups that praised the mysterious writer. ‘No one knows who he is but that adds to his ‘sexiness’ that’s what their Facebook post stated.

And none of his works were posted or published electronically, so you couldn’t ask someone to track his IP address like you did the first time.

You sigh and hold your head in your hands. “Damn it Yuta, why do you make things so difficult?”

It was comforting to know he’s out there somewhere, but you couldn’t help but lose hope. Was the universe messing with you?

———

A few weeks pass again and Delilah decides to drag you to the opening of a new art gallery downtown. Normally, she’d take her boyfriend with her, but he had basketball practice tonight.

“Thank you for coming with me, y/n! You know my professor, always making us look at other works for “inspiration” I mean, why can’t I just look at works online?” Delilah spoke as you two walked around. She was a musical theatre student, but had to visit an art gallery at least once a week to pass her art appreciation class.

She didn’t see the point in it, but you always had a connection to art that you couldn’t explain. No one in your family was a visual artist. Unlike in your “dream,” your grandmother wasn’t a painter and passed away before you could even meet her.

Nonetheless, color and technique was something you grew to appreciate.

There were about 50 people in the gallery, all high class looking. You felt underdressed in your black turtleneck, black jeans and jean jacket. That’s one thing that you did miss, wearing color all the time like you did in your dream. Now, you were back to wearing black. It was like a metaphor for how you felt. Your colorful and intense world has turned to black.

The only thing that stood out from your outfit was your necklace.

“I’m going to the restroom, I'll be right back!” Delilah skips away.

You nod then walk around a wall in the middle of the room. When you turn the corner, you see..yourself.

It’s the painting from your dream..the one of you slightly turned around. Your necklace is still in it too except..

You step closer and see that it’s different. The stone isn’t ruby anymore, no..

“It’s fuchsia..” you whisper. You glance down to see that the author’s name is The One with Many Friends.

“It’s funny because I was thinking it was more magenta, but you’re right..it really is fuchsia. You’ve got good eyes.”

You slowly turn when you recognize the voice.

Time starts to slow down. You can’t believe your eyes. It feels as though the world has stopped moving and it’s just the two of you once again after so much time.

It was Yuta.

Yuta smiles brightly when you look up at him, he recognizes you right away as you make the same pose you have in the painting.

“Yuta..” the name barely leaves your lips.

“It’s you..y/n.” He walks towards you, pace increasing with each step before taking you in his arms as all of his memories flood his brain. He had seen your face every night in his dreams but he couldn’t remember who you were. He painted you in an effort to figure out who you were, but it didn’t help.

Now finally, he got his answer.

Everything that was missing found its rightful place.

“I read your poem, but you used a pseudonym..again! I thought I would never find you.” You cry into his shoulder while holding onto him tightly.

Yuta smiles and caresses your hair.

“I told you...just trust me, we’ll be okay.”

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