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olivinesea · 2 years

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Best Forgotten

a/n: damn damn damn. here we have a little blurb turned full fic and literally not a drop of remorse from the author. aka me. once again we have young Hotch sad and angry and full of teenage indignity. Nothing goes right for the guy. I might have messed with a timeline or two but no more than the writers did. warning for bad thoughts and abuse. Thank you for the excellent prompt @unionjackpillow! ~5.2k

We all love the library, yes?

At first glance it would be easy to miss the lanky teen waiting outside the old building, he faded easily into the landscape with his dark clothes and his years of practice. Standing in the shade of a tree, he dug a hole with the toe of his sneaker, trying to look like he had a reason to be there. Loitering was the term he’d learned. An odd word, he thought, with a few letters that didn’t seem like they belonged. He’d first heard it hurled at him by an exasperated gas station clerk, pointing to the red and white plastic sign they’d put out as a pointed dis-invitation; a charm meant to ward off listless groups of teenagers and stumbling transients from their doorway. He stared at him, then at the sign, trying to match up the sounds with the spelling. His continued presence had been unappreciated and he’d had to duck out of the way of a mostly empty can aimed at his head. The man didn’t have have a chance of hitting him, not with that wobbling throw. Aaron had learned to dodge the most precise of missiles, he wasn’t about to be caught by some half-assed effort. But from that encounter forward he was made to notice more and more of those signs, warning him away from storefronts and parking lots. There were very few places, he’d found, to be aimless in public. He much preferred to wander the woods anyway, a domain all to himself, but the weather was too unpredictable today. He needed somewhere a little more sheltered to bide his time if he didn’t want to end up drenched. He smiled sourly, thinking of the reaction he’d get showing up at his brother’s school looking like a drowned rat.

He could be at school himself, really ought to be, but he hadn’t been sleeping much at night and class was guaranteed to be so boring he would surely fall asleep and wake to find himself serving detention. None of his teachers would care that he had somewhere he needed to be, that people were relying on him to be where he was told at a specific time. That there would be trouble if he wasn’t. They’d only scold him with the same tired admonishments to pay attention, to be respectful, to not talk back. As if his whole life didn’t revolve around those skills. They just couldn’t imagine there was a force stronger than them, demanding every shred of his self control. He only had so much civility he could manage and if it was a choice between making them happy and placating his father, he was always going to prioritize the latter.

If there was one thing he couldn’t fuck up today, it was picking up Sean on time. There wasn’t much he could control, the chaotic decline of his father’s health made it harder and harder to protect his little brother the way he hoped to. He felt the sting of each hit doubly as he thought about Sean frightened in another room, listening to the brutal way Aaron was made to account for each and every mistake, real or imagined. He tried so hard to keep Sean out of harm’s reach, away from the black hole center of their home, but he knew the kid was seeing things, understanding circumstances in a way that he hadn’t before now. It was easier to hide things from a toddler, but now that Sean was in school, now that he was meeting other kids with different lives he was more aware of the inconsistencies in his own. Aaron couldn’t change their world entirely, but he could provide this one bit of stability, prevent him from feeling that irrational anxiety that today, finally today, no one was coming for him. The world he’d sensed burning around him finally settled into ashes with him left alone in the middle of it. He could delay that feeling for Sean a little longer he hoped. He didn’t bother to delude himself that getting this right would spare him any of his own discomfort. There were always other faults to be found.

He wouldn’t risk school and grouchy teachers, instead he’d spend his time in the library. Easy enough to go unnoticed there. He had a spot well out of sight that would give him somewhere to be for the next few hours. The only trick was getting in unseen. He didn’t want to walk in alone. Didn’t want to be the only outlet for the attention of the librarian, eagerly waiting at the circulation desk for someone to pass by. One of the rare adults who had consistently shown him kindness, he still didn’t have it in him to field that interaction. The older woman would ask him questions, about school, about home, always casual, breezy, as if she were hardly interested. But he could tell from the way she peered at him through her thick, wire rimmed glasses that she could read more into his barely muttered answers than he would like to share. He didn’t have the energy to lie sufficiently today, he just wanted to curl into his corner and disappear. So he waited for someone to walk by, to use as a human shield in his passage through the front door.

He got his chance before long when a woman with a stroller and a toddler push their way up the small incline to the front door of the library. He ducked behind them, not too close, not too hurried, he was only being helpful, holding the door open for a mother with her hands full. She thanked him distractedly and he smiled, a real smile when the little kid looked up at him, eyes filled with excited anticipation of a day at the library. Aaron wouldn’t let himself think about the jealousy that slipped into his thoughts, a bitterness at such uncomplicated joy. He knew it was ugly and unfair of him but he just couldn’t help it. The same way he couldn’t help his anger, brought out by the way every adult seemed to think he was untrustworthy, that he didn’t care. They were so wrong it was hard to control the rage that engulfed him when faced with yet another judgmental dismissal of his character. He could never explain himself to them, not without tearing his chest open, pulling out his heart and showing them every overlooked scar, every wound relentlessly inflicted. He’d see how much of it they could withstand, how righteous they thought themselves after learning the cost of a lifetime spent hiding another man’s sins, of paying for something he’d never had a chance to decline.

With his hood pulled up, he sped across the open area, through the shelves of fiction, the popular titles that were laid out hoping to entice more casual patrons. He headed for the back corner where he knew there was a rarely used staircase that would take him to the cramped second floor,—a place ignored by most, filled with unglamorous non-fiction titles and reference books outdated by at least a decade. He slipped down the second to last aisle toward the small wooden table he’d staked out years ago. He ran his finger idly along the spines of the books, pulling out a thick hardback on mythology. He liked to at least have the pretense of studying on the off chance someone came around. He probably wouldn’t read it but he did find the savageness of the ancient religions alluring. Like the people of those lost ages, he too needed gods who could match the cruelty of his existence. He thought a pantheon of jealous, petty gods tearing each other apart as quickly as they sprang to existence made far more sense than whatever benevolent old man was currently ignoring him and every single plea he’d ever made.

He wedged himself into the chair, carefully adjusting so he could lean his back against the wall. As soon as his shoulder blades touched the wall he relaxed, just slightly. There wasn’t much that made him feel safe but the security of a wall at his back was always welcome. He kept his backpack on his lap. It barely had anything inside; a notebook, broken pencils, some crumpled up papers. It helped him blend in with everyday people though so he held onto it like a security blanket, proving he had the same authority to move around the world as any other kid his age. He shifted, finding it hard to fully settle in the space with the air pressing warm and still against him. A shadow shifted above him and he blinked at the sudden brightness. Cut into the ceiling directly over his table was a skylight. It was the other reason this had become his favorite spot. The window wasn’t large and it hadn’t been cleaned in a number of years so the dirt and leaves filtered the sunlight opaquely through it. But it was enough for him to feel connected to the outside, to reassure him he wasn’t trapped in some low-ceilinged cave. The light helped him breathe a little easier. Tilting his head back, he could see raindrops begin to splash against the glass, running together and dragging muddy trails behind them.

He turned his attention to the book, flipping it open randomly, looking at the pictures more than the words. There were old photographs of statues and frescoes, tiny bolded captions describing when and where these representations originated. He traced his finger along the edges of tiles making up a mosaic that was hundreds, thousands of years old. This photograph itself was probably half a century gone, the colors faded into a sepia wash, barely able to discern between the blues and reds. It felt strange to him that even back then, people envisioned gods as no different than themselves. Perhaps with greater powers but all the same limbs and torsos and heads of any human. On Sundays he’d heard God created people in His image but he felt like it was more than likely the other way around. People wanted to see themselves in the powerful, he could understand that much. Aid and forgiveness seemed more likely to come from a being they could identify with. Unfortunately he’d never felt that connection, could never see himself in any representations of divinity. He might have all the same parts as anyone else, but there was something off about him, something that kept him separated from the comfort others had no problem finding.

He flipped ahead and landed on a page depicting a sinister looking creature, all horns and glowing eyes, teeth sharpened to points. He stared into those eyes and wondered if this thing might be inside of him, if he would be better represented by the drops of blood splattered across the page. He dug his nail into the skin of his fingertips, fighting back the rage that surged through him. It had gotten harder, these waves of emotion, overtaking him suddenly, threatening to carry him out past the breakers to be lost in an ocean of senseless, endless fury. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the urge to tear this book to shreds, to begin screaming, just to find out what would happen. To see if there was something more to be broken in his utterly fractured life. But before that could happen, the feeling faded leaving a familiar nausea in its place.

Some days he couldn’t differentiate between all the feelings; the anger and the fear and the disgust. He’d been told he was less than—wrong, sinful, useless—so many times he believed it wholeheartedly. He resented the world for making him this way while at the same time refusing to give him any sort of out. He was the creature on the page in front of him, created by the minds of weak and angry people in order to have someone to blame for their problems. He existed for nothing more than to hurt and be hurt. He tried to swallow back the feeling, the tears that pricked his eyes when he let himself think about how he was trapped in this, had never had a chance to be anything different, but the lump of emotion in his throat was made worse by the bruising left there by his father’s viselike grip. He couldn’t remember what specifically he’d done to deserve it; it all tended to blend together as his vision whited out. He only remembered the long seconds of wondering if this would be the last time, if this beating would be the breaking point, tipping the scales of their stalemate into death. His or his father’s, he was no longer sure who it would be that would be left lifeless on the ground of their last battle.

It used to be clear to him, that it was his life, twisted and ugly, that would be crushed eventually. But now, the way his muscles lit up with the urgent need to rip down all that surrounded him, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t turn it back on his father, that he wouldn’t sink demon claws into the man’s weakening flesh, that he wouldn’t tear out his bastard lungs with teeth like knives. These were becoming his favorite dreams as his consciousness drifted in and out: that one more hit would unleash the creature inside him. He wanted it even, craved the way he knew he’d finally see fear reflected back at him, the sick father helpless against his teenage son. Unknowingly the man had created a copy of himself, someone who’d learned through his own torture the best ways to make another person suffer.

A quiet voice told him if he ever gave into these fantasies he would no longer need to worry about his father because he would become the man. That getting his revenge would only permanently bind them, ensuring his father’s ghost was inescapable. The voice warned that it was the wrong road to go down, that it would eternalize the thing he feared most. But he was getting better and better at ignoring that voice. What good had it done him to cower and appease? It hadn’t spared him a single broken bone, had not afforded him any sort of safety. Nothing he did had ever stopped the hurricane force of his father from bearing down on him. He was tired of it, he would rather be the strong one, the creature glaring out from the page, his eyes a little wild. Aaron would rather the blood dripping from his teeth belong to someone besides himself for once.

As his mind wandered through these forbidden roads, his eyes got heavy, the warmth of the library tugging at his exhaustion, promising a softly cradled respite. He tried pulling off his sweatshirt to get some cooler air on his skin, to revive him. Once disentangled from his arms, crumpled on the table, the fabric looked inviting. Using it as a pillow, he rested his head on his arms, curling forward around himself. He only closed his eyes so he could imagine his father’s destruction more clearly. He wasn’t going to sleep, he couldn’t sleep. But inside the circle of his arms it was dark, the only sounds his breathing and the rain steadily falling on the skylight. He imagined he could feel it falling across the back of his neck, cooling some of the heat that burned across the map of his skin, following ridges of scars and deep pools of bruises. His anger was nearly gone, the energy for destroying his father forgotten as he found himself back at his oldest wish: to be unseen, unobserved. To be safe, if only for a little while. He didn’t notice when his thoughts slid into dreams.

The hand on his shoulder was light but may as well have been a gunshot with the way it made him jump. If it weren’t for the wall he’d have fallen out of his chair in his attempt to put distance between himself and the likely outraged owner of the hand. He cursed, more at himself for his stupidity but also at whoever had trespassed into his secret area. He blinked trying to focus his eyes, only to find, to his dismay, the librarian, Mrs. Collins. This was the same woman who had been working here since he could remember first coming, trailing his mother one winter afternoon when it was too dangerous to be home but too cold to be anywhere else. He had been small so his memory wasn’t exactly detailed but he thought the librarian had given his mother tea and him a cookie that he ate fastidiously so no crumbs would fall onto the bright pages of the book she pulled out for him. His mother may have been crying, the lady may have comforted her. Or perhaps she’d been the one to make his mother cry with her words. Either way, she never took him back there again.

It wasn’t until he was older, big enough to walk down the street by himself that he started coming to the library on his own. Exploring first the children’s section and then, whenever there were other children who recognized him, glaring and whispering, he started moving into the adult stacks. It was like a different world in the adult section. He tried to avoid the other patrons, ducking behind shelves to watch them as they browsed. He’d learned a lot about people by watching the way they picked out books. Whenever he got tired of this hide-and-seek game he played by himself, he’d try to find the most out of the way, inconspicuous corners to wedge himself. That had been how he’d found his spot beneath the skylight. These days he had less interest in the other people and spent very little time in the travelled areas. But he still felt drawn to the library, thankful for the solitude the building provided.

In all that time, it had been the same librarian waiting at the front desk, greeting him when he walked in, sending her well wishes with him as he left. She always spoke kindly to him, gently suggesting books or topics he might be interested in. When he was still young, too young to be aware that libraries were not normally places for eating, she would give him a snack when he arrived. Something small, an apple or a granola bar. His favorite was when she baked muffins, the round blueberries bursting like little bubbles popping between his teeth, their warm juice unlike anything he was given to eat at home. It wasn’t until middle school when he saw some other kids from his school eyeing his library snack. He’d felt them watching as she handed it over to him behind the circulation desk, could hear the not-so-subtle comments about how poor do you have to be to be fed by the librarian; how much must your parents hate you; how greedy can one person be, taking food from little old ladies. It didn’t matter to them that half the things they said contradicted the other half, only that each got the same reaction from him, his shoulders inching closer to his ears as he tried to disappear into himself. He never accepted food from her again, pointedly avoiding her when the scent of blueberry muffins drifted from behind the desk.

She had been saddened by his pulling away, but she supposed it had only been a matter of time. She didn’t have all the facts about what went on in that house but it was clear enough to her that the boy was not being treated well. She had known his mother when she was young and in love with Aaron’s dark haired father, new to town and breezing through every shop, as if she were announcing her presence to them all. Mrs. Collins hadn’t had the heart then to contradict the young woman’s elation, hadn’t had the courage to warn her away from the notorious Hotchner family. If the man was anything like his father before him, she’d find out soon enough. She was enough of an adult to make her own choices she figured, though the one time she had come in weeping, her young son wide-eyed and silent beside her, she had felt a wash of guilt. Surely even if she had made this mistake, she and her innocent child did not deserve to live such a punishing life as a result. But, though she spoke with the mother for hours, calming her and then trying to persuade her to make a change, nothing came of it. In fact she never saw the woman enter the library again, though occasionally would see her in town, walking into the store with dark sunglasses and a timid gait. She seemed to shrink into herself as the years went by, disappearing into a drift of pale smoke.

So she watched the son, pleased when he started coming in on his own. She tried her best to care for him, though as he grew he developed the same hardness as his father. She wondered when his obvious anger at the world would boil over into something dangerous. She made little gestures, trying not to push him too hard, afraid he would disappear just as his mother had, or perhaps more worryingly, lose his temper and display some of the explosive Hotchner tendencies she’d only heard rumors of. A few times she’d been almost certain she saw the resulting damage of that temper patterned against the child’s pale skin but it was never something that couldn’t be casually explain away. All she could do was continue what she had been doing. Watching and waiting for a clear sign.

She’d seen him walk in that morning, could tell he wasn’t in the mood to talk, his hood pulled low as if he could disguise his sharp nose, the nearly black hair falling into his eyes. As if it was possible to hide in a town this small. There were no secrets here, not really, only a shared suspension of disbelief. Only a willful ignorance of facts too complicated, too uncomfortable to address. So she let him have his illusion of stealth, but it had been hours and she hadn’t seen him slink back out so she went looking. Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten so close to him but he’d looked so young in his sleep, face slackened of any scowl or stoicism. His head had rolled to one side, ear tucked into his elbow. His shirt, a few dozen washes past the point of being more than a glorified rag hung too loosely on him, even worse up close than she’d be able to see with her poor vision. The thing that had made her decision for her, made her lose sight of how risky it could be to startle him awake, was where his loose shirt collar had pulled away from his neck, his long hair swinging forward and exposing the purple and red bruising that wrapped around his pale skin. She’d seen him with injuries before, they all had, but it was always a fall, an accident, a thick streak of clumsiness that ran in the family. She’d never been confronted with a wound so definitively hand shaped. She could see the outlines of each finger, could see the blood blister where a heavy ring had pressed against his skin harder than the rest. She didn’t have time to stop herself before she reacted, her horror at the reality of what she was seeing was too great. Her brain didn’t want to process it, so she woke him if only so she wouldn’t have to be frozen by the image of the sleeping boy lost in this dusty space.

After a minute of sputtering fear, Aaron managed to wrestle down his nightmares. But he was not comforted by the familiar face of the librarian. Though he’d known her for years, she’d never given him a look quite like that. He did not like that look at all, could tell something had changed in his sleep, that he was in trouble for more than just falling asleep at the library. She lifted her hand like she wanted to reach out and touch him and he looked at it warily, shrinking back as if he could melt into the wall but she didn’t come any closer.

“Aaron,” she began and he flinched at the sound of his name. He was able to pretend people didn’t know who he was as long as they didn’t call him by name. He hated it when anyone used the word, a curse reminding him over and over of his pathetic reality.

She wasn’t sure how to continue. “Are you alright sweetheart?”

He ignored the endearment, frowning at his inability to decipher what she wanted from him. “I’m fine,” he said guardedly. He tried to look around, to see if he’d knocked something over or done something in his sleep that would warrant such a concerned look.

“You were sleeping pretty hard there.”

He shrugged in response. He wasn’t proud of it but it wasn’t the strangest thing anyone had ever done at the library. He gathered his nerve to look at her again and saw she was still staring at him but not quite at his face, somewhere just to the right of him he thought. Her fingers twitched again and he crossed his arms over his chest, trapping his backpack and hoodie and holding them close.

“Your neck…” she touched her own neck in the same place he’d been hurt,.“Honey, who did this to you?”

His hand immediately flew up to cover the bruising he only now realized was visible. He’d been a fool to take off his sweatshirt, he’d just been so warm, had figured he was well out of sight. “No one, it’s nothing,” he stammered but it was useless, his automatic response having already given him away.

“Aaron,” she tried to sound stern, she wanted to help him, needed to help this child she’d been idly sitting by and watching drown for years but she couldn’t do that without his cooperation. She’d done everything she could to earn his trust but she needed a little give from him, just one step toward her and she was certain she could do something to improve this awful situation.

“It’s none of your fucking business lady,” his voice was sharp, the echo of his father’s tone sending a shiver down his spine. He might already look and sound too much like the man but he wasn’t sure he was ready to be him, to take on his role of intimidating the world.

Mrs. Collins was too shocked to say anything, her hand covering her mouth that had dropped open in surprise. The stereotypical vision of an offended old woman made Aaron’s blood boil, steeling his resolve and shaking off his disquiet over sounding like his father. She had brought this on herself, coming into his space, putting her nose where it didn’t belong. She deserved to be a little uneasy, it was only fair. Suddenly a few more of his swirling thoughts locked into place and he realized the point that had been agitating him like a loose tooth. Why had she come up here to find him? She’d never bothered him before, though he was sure she must have known for a long time where he went to hide. Sometimes it was so oddly and consistently empty up there he thought she might direct patrons away from the area to give him some privacy. He leapt to his feet, towering over her now, he’d been nearly as tall as her when sitting. She’d really become a little old lady in the time it’d taken him to grow into himself.

“Why are you here?” His voice lost its meanness, only a racing anxiety left in its place. “Did someone call?”

She had a hard time following this quick jump but she watched with even more concern as he dropped his backpack on the ground and struggled to put on his sweatshirt. As he lifted his arms to pull it over his head, his shirt rode up and exposed sharp hip bones and the edges of what she could only assume were more bruises. She shook her head. She couldn’t understand what he meant.

His mind raced too fast to put together an explanation though he felt the nagging urge to apologize for his words before, this woman hadn’t done anything wrong, had certainly only ever been good to him. “What time is it?” He finally found a question she could answer.

“It’s almost three thirty.”

His heart dropped into his stomach and for a second he thought he would be sick right there. His vision swam, white spots blurring the image of the woman in front of him. He reached blindly for his backpack, already stumbling forward, knocking the forgotten mythology book off the table with his shoulder. It crashed down with the pages crushed beneath it but he didn’t have time to fix it, didn’t have time to apologize or explain. He wasn’t sure he had anything but borrowed moments left in his life. He wasn’t supposed to fuck this up. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He brushed by her, trying not to touch her but failing in the cramped space. He muttered a sorry as she shuffled to the side, catching herself on one of the shelves of old books. She pressed a hand to her heart, willing it to calm itself, settle back into a rhythm that could support her, to get her lungs to pull in air steadily as she watched him run to the stairs. A few moments later she heard a shout of alarm as he ran through the lobby and out the door. Where he was going she couldn’t imagine but she knew, sadly, she wouldn’t see him back here again.

She debated whether to tell anyone about what she saw but couldn’t quite decide who would be best. As she went back and forth in her mind, so much time passed that it began to seem silly. She began to doubt herself, her memory and her old eyes in the dim light. She still saw the family, never in the library but around, never looking very different. A few months later the father died and it didn’t seem so important anymore anyway. The situation had resolved itself. She went to the funeral and sat in the back, watching the son stand beside his mother, eyes dry and angry, the spitting image of his father, his cruelty had left an indelible mark. Aaron, she could tell, would be unable to ever escape the man, his image following him from mirror to mirror reminding him of what he came from.

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #teen hotch #hotch backstory

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neovisioned · 4 years

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♡ꜜ broken mirrors﹫jaehyun jung

pairing : jaehyun x reader (f), ft. nct dream and johnny.

genre : angst, smut, horror-ish, cursed!jaehyun, (kind of bloody mary!au), college!au.

warnings : jaehyun is meant to be kind of twisted, some toxic and manipulative behaviour from him, black magic, mentions of rituals, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mention of anxiety, voyeurism, choking, guided masturbation, degradation, pet names : doll, darling, kid, reminder jaehyun is an entity from the victorian era, reader is kind of reckless and impulsive.

word count : 25k exactly.

synopsis : where your college friends recall a creepy legend known around your university about a man that appears in mirrors and grants you two wishes when summoned. Jisung is dared to say his name three times and see what happens. you at first brush it off as some copy of bloody mary but, when your friend chickens out and swears something happened in that bathroom, you can’t deny the shift in atmosphere everyone felt. once in your dorm, the urge to try it out mixed with fear pushes you over the edge. it’s probably fake anyways, right ? you summon Jung Jaehyun in the middle of the night, on your bed, and he is not what you expected him to be.

a/n : this was supposed to be a short one shot, lol. reminder this isn’t an all pink story. for the people who’ve read my other stuff, it’s quite different from what i usually write ! also, this isn’t proofread. in case tags don’t work : @nct-writers @neowritingsnet @thekpopnet.

“Do you seriously believe in this kind of shit ?” laughs Jeno, a bit too loudly for the other students probably peacefully resting in the dorms right next to his. One hand covers the economics student’s mouth, visibly chewing on some chips and guacamole freshly made for tonight. Jaemin whines at the obvious joke his friend is making him out to be in front of everyone, a pout on his rosy lips. Poor thing, a dusty pink colors his cheeks – noticeable despite the low lighting of Jeno’s room - he looks down at the half empty plate, crumbs of potatoes on the ceramic.

“At least let me tell the story !”, Jaemin argues, slapping the red haired’s hand away. Stealing one of the last larger chips, Jaemin dips it in the smashed avocado. The blonde eats his chip almost aggressively, a victorious noise coming out of his closed mouth when Jeno notices the little amount of guacamole he left for him.

“We were supposed to watch a scary movie, telling creepy stories’ the next best option.”, you say, leaning back against your friend’s Fatboy. Tonight was yet another one of these half improvised movie nights with your college friends. Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle and Donghyuck were all in your campus, in different courses and yet, you all managed to come together in one tight neck group. Every week, one member of the group would host a little something to celebrate…not dying ? Yeah, something like that.

Thursday, tonight was obviously Jeno’s turn to hold the gathering, he had proposed a nice horror movie night but, Jisung, a language student, ended up chickening out after hearing the movie’s synopsis. You don’t really blame him, though, the story was meant to keep its viewers up for nights.

“Jisung’s a pussy !”, Donghyuck teases the young man, a hand ruffling his peach hair to annoy him even more. “I have things to do tomorrow and I need my sleep !”, he defends himself for the nth time tonight, a new argument each time. The other boys aren’t really bothered by the change, movies usually get lost in the group’s banter and casual conversations anyways. You can count on two hands the number of movies you entirely watched with your friends.

“He’s gonna get scared by some stories, too.”, the brunette continues his teasing like he usually does. Jisung pushes him to the side as an answer, before crossing his arms over his chest. Like everyone else, he’s already wearing his pyjamas, his and everyone else’s dorm room is in the same building and so, everyone could get to their bed in minutes, if not seconds.

“He’s going to knock at your door tonight, Y/N.”, Jeno joins in, all very well knowing that the peach haired’s dorm is right next to yours, seconds away. There’s a snore from Donghyuck, slapping a hand on the wooden table as he adds something to the conversation too, one you don’t catch. “Oh no, don’t. But I can give you a plushie if you’re really scared.”, you join in before immediately wrapping an arm around your friend for comfort.

“’m joking. Come on, what’s your story, Jaemin.”, you hum, letting Jisung lean his head against your shoulder with a whine, pout on his pink lips.

“Lets do one each, yeah ? I have a story to tell and we’ll see who will really need a plushie.”, taunts the young man at your side, though no one truly believes him at first. Jisung, having scary stories to tell ? Hard to believe.

“Wait ! We need to get in the mood !”, interjects Jaemin, getting up from his position on the floor. He easily navigates in the room with Jeno, like a third home. The first closes all windows, pushes curtains and turns off any lights to, like he said, get in the creepy mood.

“H-Hey ! Can we at least keep one on ?”, Chenle joins the peach haired as a laughing point for the other boys, but Jaemin quickly obliges and lets the light of the small bathroom on for his friend, you suspect he didn’t like the complete lack of light either. You can barely see the front door from your spot, the yellowish light easily drowns the group in the storytelling atmosphere and, Jaemin joins the group again. “Wait, one last thing !”, searching for something in a drawer next to his bed, Jeno ends up taking a red candle out with a victorious sound. It hasn’t been touched at all, you inspect it a bit closely when your friend sets it on the wooden table.

“Got it because of TikTok, it has something in it.”, he mumbles out, running a hand in his dyed hair, almost embarrassed. You wonder again how almost everyone in this group has their hair a different shade of some unnatural colour and yet, dried locks aren’t falling out on the dorm floor - yet. Thumb on his lighter, Jeno tries a few times before he gets a flame steady enough, bringing it to the white thread sticking out of his impulsive purchase.

“There, now we’re in the mood.”, proud of his little setup, the red haired sits down again, a small giggle escaping his lips at Chenle’s frightened look, already sheltering himself with his arms. The candle smells like strawberries, tall flame wavering under your friends’ breaths, the red haired slaps your hand away when you try to dig in the melted wax for the mystery treasure with one of his forks.

“Now, Jaemin ! Let us hear your story.”, slapping his hands together, Donghyuck leans a bit closer to the center of the table. It is no secret in the group that Donghyuck has a love for scary stories and anything crime related, it seems he has been waiting for this moment. His face gets enlightened by the small candle, a weird angle that changed his features. “Try and scare us.”, the dance student challenged.

Jisung’s arm wraps and tightens around your own when Jaemin takes the little light in his own hands, bringing the flame under his face. “Alright, do you guys know what’s a…Banshee ?”, his last word comes out as a whisper, letting the last syllable hang in the air for a few. “Oh, no.”, Renjun’s head rolls back, it rests against Jeno’s bed for a bit as he squeezes his eyes shut, whining in almost pain. “Oh, yes. Renjun knows this story.”, remembers Jaemin, a smile stretching his lips, devilish. Everyone else comes a bit closer to the table, curiosity poked by Renjun’s natural reaction. You’re the only one shaking your head from left to right, but you doubt the others know about what the storyteller’s talking about.

“A Banshee’s a female spirit whose wailing warns of a death in a house.”, starts Jaemin, hands dancing around the small flame, probably enjoying the heat, drawing slight shadows on the walls. He pays no attention to the small gasp falling from Chenle’s lips, about to continue. “Wow, Wikipedia. Big boy words.”, notifies Jeno, earning a death glare by the narrator.

“It happened years ago, me and my family were on vacation in Ireland. You guys know, I have some relatives there. It was for a wedding, so all my cousins and I were staying at my Uncle’s house.”, finally starts Jaemin, voice a lot quieter. The young medicine student easily gets the entire group captivated with his words and aura. Even Renjun who already knows this story, even Jisung who usually, does not like scary tales. It is clear the intimate aspect of a story lived by a friend helps a lot, it isn’t anything mainstream or heard before, it adds to the mystery. For the next minutes, the young man tells his story with as much seriousness as he can, keeping the candle right under his face.

“We were all around the ages of ten and thirteen, my Uncle’s house was deep in the Irish country side. I remember that parents would all sleep on the first floor and let us have the second for big sleepovers. So, my cousins and I would stay late and watch horror movies. I mean, you let kids alone, obviously they’re going to stay up late, right ?” Haechan only agrees while Jisung lets about a “this isn’t starting very well.”, eyebrows furrowed, cheek rubbing against your shoulder. “But eventually, my Uncle would come up and switch off the TV. You guys don’t know him but he’s...Special. He wouldn’t walk us to bed right away, he’d tell us about Banshees. Irish spirits, he’d describe them to us. A fragile, old woman with ripped clothes. Black hair down to her feet, sickly white skin and a veil over her red, bloody eyes.” Jaemin lets the description sink in, your face contours at the thought, you don’t have to look at Jisung to know he has the same expression on his. Donghyuck, him, is smiling a bit too much, leaning closer to the narrator for more. Jeno is strangely afraid too, towing with a loose thread sticking out of his blanket. “Her screams have one meaning. Someone is going to die.”, Jaemin dramatically lets out the last word, keeping a straight, serious face even when Donghyuck cooes. “I hate this.”, you mumble out, to which Jisung agrees. “My Uncle would tell us about how clocks would stop, all of a sudden, fall off walls and crash on the floor before hearing a Banshee. Lights would turn on and off, flicker, doors would fly open without a breeze and slap against the walls. Paintings and pictures would fall down. He’d describe the keening as high pitch sounds, it’d pierce your soul and make every hair on your body stand.” Another pause, it’s clear Jaemin already told this story. There, he mimics the sound of a keening Banshee. And, if you think he’d sound silly, he does. High pitched is not a sound your friend can achieve and, it takes a few laughs here and there. Chenle visibly relaxes, back leaning away from the Fatboy. “He’d then walk us to bed after his Banshee story and we’d stay awake out of fear, you know. Just staring outside the windows, at the dark, Irish country side. Pitch black, no lights, tall - tall trees. It was during the winter, a wedding in the snow. And so, his big garden would be fogged up. A dense, white fog, we could barely see anything.”

The small flame grows taller, it wavers again under Jaemin’s words, light dancing on the red haired’s table. “One night, after my Uncle walked us to bed, me and my cousins were looking outside when we saw it.” Jisung shivers next to you without even hearing the rest, you almost giggle at his reaction. Both the narrator’s palms softly hit the table before he continues. A sound leaves his lips, like the image his memory is forming in front of his eyelids is enough to scare him. “We saw one.”, Jaemin finally announces.

In another situation, Donghyuck would be the first one to deny or refute Jaemin’s words. No you didn’t, you almost say but, your lips part for a second, without a sound. Hyper focusing on your friend, you can’t deny the slight shiver that runs down your spine when he continues. “Red, glowy eyes. Right under a tree. She was wearing a white dress and just like Uncle said. She was taller than Uncle described, she could probably easily touch the tall branches of the trees. Skinny, lanky body, we couldn’t see if she had a veil or if it was ripped.” There’s a pause again, Jaemin looks at the clock right behind you and you can not help it, you turn around just in case. “The clock stopped.” Fortunately, he isn’t talking about Jeno’s.

“No.”, the red haired whispers out but, Jaemin does not even look at him, continuing his story.

“She wasn’t moving, just standing...there. White dress, black hair. We couldn’t see exactly where she was looking at but it was clear she was staring at our house. And then…”, for a second time, the young man mimics a Banshee’s scream but, it’s too good this time. It’s quiet enough that he does not bother Jeno’s neighbors, but high pitched and blood drenching. The quiet scream is drawn out, Jaemin leans on his palms and elevates himself before he’s out of breath, stopping abruptly. “Dude.”, you whisper out, getting a look from Jisung.

“And then. She disappeared. We saw her walking between the house and my Uncle’s neighbor’s house. It was so weird, she wasn’t slow, she was walking quickly, so quickly. But it was like her knees weren’t in place, her legs would twitch to the side every now and then.”, Jaemin sits down again, looking at each of his friends in the eyes. You didn’t know he was this good at storytelling, you have to keep yourself from picturing this tall, lanky woman quickly walking in the dark. “We locked all the doors, closed all the windows. We were so scared, we would look at each other like…‘who’s going to die tonight ?’”

“Shut it, no one died.”, the red haired lets out, sentence rushed. But, Renjun finally speaks up, throwing a balled up tissue at your friend, one he cannot dodge, getting hit right on his forehead. “Sht and listen.”

“We did not sleep at all that night and…”, you almost hit the medicine student at the nth pause, you can’t deny the fact that he has you at the edge of your metaphorical seat. “The next morning, my Uncle found our neighbour. Dead.”

There’s a gasp from everyone, your eyebrow’s and Donghyuck’s raise up and before you can speak up, Renjun whispers at you to just “wait for the next part.” You hear one of your friends babbling about how it’s all bullshit, but Jaemin never leaves his narrator persona. “We told my Uncle about the Banshee, he had heard it too and since nothing happened to us or our parents, he went to his neighbors’ house. Both really believed in these kind of things, these Irish legends. He was found in his little sofa, turned towards his window. He didn’t have any heart problems but apparently, his heart stopped during the night. My dad told me a bit more two years ago, he was found with his eyes...Wide open.”

The moment Jaemin finishes his little story, questions fly from each side of the table and your friend answers quickly, like he was ready for each one of them. “You can call my mom and ask her about it if you want to, Donghyuck.”, the confidence the medicine student has in his story is enough for the brunette. A nice story to start on, you all note, but the neighbor’s death was probably a weird coincidence, right ? At the very least, that’s what you’d like to think. Finally, when everyone calmed down from Jaemin’s story, he pushed the candle towards Jisung. “Your turn, you said you had a story to tell.”

Your friend nods quickly, hands resting on the pyramide shape of the candle, frowning at the layer of wax it leaves on his palms. A little pool of melting wax is forming at the top and you wonder for a moment if it’s not going to spill on the table. Everyone’s attention turns towards the new narrator, Jaemin finding a new comfortable position on the floor. “Alright, uh. I don’t have the same storytelling skills as Jaemin and it isn’t the same type of story. You guys know Eric, right ?”, he starts, receiving some hums from Jeno and Jaemin.

“Eric the Eerie ?”, you ask, almost in disbelief at the mention. At the nickname, Donghyuck almost bursts out laughing, leaning his forehead against Jeno’s table and Renjun pouts a bit at the lack of seriousness his story is already receiving. “Yes, him. The old Litterature student.”, affirms Renjun. You remember the guy, tall and lanky, legend has it that he suddenly went from the bottom of his class to the very top almost overnight, collecting amazing grades after amazing grades. No one knew how he did it. Plus, he was a bit weird. It might seem a bit mean but, his appearance didn’t help and, he would not talk to anyone either, he avoided big bodies of water and mirrors, you doubt he had any friend here, too. He’d apparently sit in the back of his class and, when he graduated, he took his diploma first and left. Nowhere to be seen now.

“Didn’t he graduate last year ?”, Jaemin asks, grabbing a bottle of juice from the side. Even in the dark, he is able to pour himself a glass full without spilling it everywhere.

“He did, yeah. Did you guys hear about the legend ? The one around how he got his grades up ?”, there’s a sound coming from your mouth, half confused and half intrigued. “Uh ?” Jaemin hums loudly, the sound resonates between the walls of his glass as his eyes blow wide for a second. “The Yoonoh thing ? I heard about that but not in details.” Apparently, Jaemin isn’t the only one who recalls the name. It is one you and all your friends have heard before, right when you entered your university. It wasn’t mentioned in the flyers or, by the teachers, even. It was first brought up during a party hosted by older students, one where they all told you about the campus’ legends and stories.

“His name’s written all over the walls of the old building. Also, it’s in the main building’s restroom, I think.”, Renjun informs and your memory clicks. Your university has many buildings but, one of them, a bit further away from the campus, is abandoned. It has been for years now but you and your friends decided to visit it out of curiosity during your first year, a bit after the party. You could say it was pretty underwhelming, nothing too special if it wasn’t for old structures and dirty floors. Empty classes and weird smells, like any other abandoned places, you could say. You remember the same name being written over and over again on the walls, the desks, some mirrors. Younger you thought it was only a weird legend older students used to scare the new ones.

“Oh, right. What about it ?”, Jeno asks, eyebrows raising a bit at the new storyteller.

“Do you guys remember the legend ?”, you nod again and, help your other friends remember the old tale. Once upon a time, a man cursed, cursed in mirrors forever. Able to travel from room to room, forced to appear whenever properly summoned by someone. How did he end up with such a faith ? You do not know or, maybe you don’t remember what your older friends told you. Yoonoh was - or is -, his name. Much like Bloody Mary, call his name three times and he’ll eat your reflection, take your place in your mirror and offer you two wishes. Two and not three, the last one he keeps to himself, he’ll ask for something in return. The rest of the story is quite blurry, it changed from course to course. Some people said he’d trap people in mirrors, other that he was a creepy, demonic looking creature asking for quite gory things. You had to say, when the story was told the night of the party, you got a bit creeped out but, you forgot about it since.

“Apparently, Eric summoned him. Midway through the school year, he summoned him in his bedroom and used one of his two wishes for better grades. The first wish was granted but, Yoonoh wanted Eric to sacrifice a friend to him. No one knows if he managed to do it or not, apparently he didn’t use his second wish and since, Yoonoh follows him everywhere he goes.”, Renjun dramatically says but, the effect isn’t one he anticipated for his little story. There’s a laugh from Donghyuck, quickly followed by Jeno. “C’mon dude, we wanted a scary story.”, interjects the medicine student and, you only hide your chuckle by drinking your juice. Poor Renjun pouts, trying to regain the attention of his friends. “Wait, listen ! Doesn't it make sense ? Like...Like, I see it happening.”, big pearly eyes find Jisung for some support, but his friend only looks away to hide his smile too.

“That story’s bullshit, I thought you knew.”, Jaemin finally says, sighing a little.

“But the grades going up ? How he’d dodge mirrors like the plague ? He even took the mirror from his bathroom and bedroom out.”, Renjun argues, leaning a bit too closely to the small flame. You wonder for a moment who exactly, decided to take advantage of your gullible friend. “It’s fake.”, Jisung says again, mimicking your friend. He gets a death glare from the fallen storyteller who didn’t have the throne for too long, pushing the candle to the center of the table.

“Alright…”, he starts, palms flat on the flat surface. Renjun plants his eyes into Jisung’s, small smile tugging at his lips at the thought crossing his mind. “I dare you to summon him.”

Oh, your friends still act like teenage boys. You don’t blame them, quite the contrary, you join them when they almost scream at the challenge thrown out. Everyone knows Jisung never turns a dare down, it probably has to do with his pride. But tonight, tonight might be the first time he does. Eyes scanning everyone, Jisung takes a bit too long to answer. There’s a bunch of “do it”’s from around the table, Jeno and Jaemin weirdly dancing to the beat of your words.

“Yoonoh ? Dude…”, eyes blown wide, he looks around at the uproar the narrator created, almost sending daggers. “I thought it was bullshit ?”, sarcastically asks Renjun, propping his chin on his hand, still on the table. Donghyuck calls him a chicken after some seconds of thinking and, this does it for Jisung’s pride and ego.

“He’s gonna do it !”, Jeno chokes out, hands thrown in the air in victory. The medicine student at his side takes the lit candle in his palms and offers it to Jisung once he finally stands up with an audible sigh, head low like a knight in front of a Queen. “It’s...fake anyways.”, he reassures himself alone, brushing his pyjamas. Slowly walking towards the dimly lit bathroom, Jisung quickly looks behind him to see if anyone stops him. Clearly, no one does.

“Do you remember how to do it ?”, Renjun asks, not even hiding his smile at Jisung’s obvious lack of confidence, a first. Shaking his head from left to right, Renjun quickly writes it down on a piece of paper, himself not daring saying it out loud. Standing up like the rest of your group, you look over your friend’s shoulder. He’s writing a few sentences down by memory, sentences you remember from the first university party.

“Mirror, mirror, mirror. Take my reflection as home. Show me my deepest, darkest desires. Give to me, take from me. Yoonoh, Yoonoh, Y…”

“I didn’t want to write his name three times.”, Renjun mumbles out, handing the small piece of paper to your friend, waiting in front of the bathroom door. You audibly laugh at his confession, poking Donghyuck with your elbow to react his words. “And I am the chicken ?”, Jisung asks a bit too offended, to which Jeno only pushes him inside the room. “I never said I wasn’t !”

Jeno tries to close the door behind him as quickly as possible but, Jisung is quicker and blocks the attempt with an arm, frightened look flashing in his eyes for a second, he already hates this. His mouth falls open the moment you turn the light off, only lit by the small candle and Jaemin’s phone’s light. “Do I have to ?”, he whines, quickly looking behind him. All the dorms have the same bathroom, small and packed, it seems Jisung never saw his bathroom in the dark or maybe, the candle lit adds to the creepiness. “Yes, you have to !”, it’s almost a harmony between you and Chenle and, with Jaemin’s help, the door gets closed and traps Jisung in the small room. Poor thing, you hear him let a whine out while your friends giggle, tapping on the door.

“C’mon, Jisung.”, Jaemin pushes him on and, you hear him mumble something on the other side. Finally, silence. Jisung probably sets the candle down, whines again about how he can’t read your friend’s handwriting. After a few minutes, he mumbles a few things again, voice audibly shaky. Jeno lets his nails travel down the painted wood of his door and, the poor thing reacts, loudly tapping the door.

“Is he doing it ?”, you ask quietly, ear to the door. “I think ?”, Donghyuck can only guess before he gestures to his friends to back away and stay silent. In Jeno’s dorm, badly lit, all packed in front of his door, you think it’s all fun and games. Finally, you hear Jisung say the first words with an ounce of confidence, clearing his throat every now and then, mirror, mirror, mirror. Your eyes grow wide, palms slightly sweaty, you have to rub them against your pyjama pants and crouch a bit down. He reads almost like a robot, a monotone voice he uses to add some humor in all of it, act nonchalant when you’re pretty sure he’s shitting himself in there. However, when you hear the second to last sentence, your blood rushes through your veins, he sounds different, like he’s finally taking it all seriously. It’s weird, your brain is convinced nothing is going to happen and yet, your heart races for him and the possibilities of what can happen between these four walls. You were never the one to believe in such things but, the adrenaline and thrill always got to you, always managed to scare you a bit and keep you up at night. It seems the situation does the same to your friends. Quickly, flashlights join Jaemin’s, you even see Chenle biting down on his lower lip, backing a bit away. At this very moment, you don’t know it yet but, your friend has a weird feeling greeting up his chest. Yoonoh, you hear him say his name once, you fake not feeling the air grow colder around you, goosebumps rising on your nakes arms, it’s probably the open wind-. You remember Jaemin closing every window before starting his story. A second time, Jisung sounds breathless, hesitant to let the word out, even. You almost open the door to let him out but you’re stuck there, unable to move anything but your eyes. Stuck in place, it seems like long minutes go by between your friend’s words. Quickly, you look over at the clock hung up on Jeno’s wall, the very one you thought would fall down during the medicine student’s story and...Is it...Slowing down ? Say it a third time and get out of here, you think to yourself, suddenly feeling sweat gathering on your body. Hairline, back, you fan yourself with your hand but nothing changes. It sounds like he tries to, syllable forming on his lips but nothing more gets out. He tries once, and never finishes. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine, you instinctively glare at Jaemin who stares at the plain door almost too intensively, you see his Adam’s Apple difficulty move up, and down, like he himself, feels the weird shift in atmosphere. When did this dumb dare turn so serious ? Something isn’t right, you don’t dare mention it at that moment, you don’t think you need to anyways. He isn’t able to let the last word out, silence on the other side, you almost think he’s pulling a prank on you before you hear it. You all hear a commotion, you hear Jisung thumble backwards and crash into one of Jeno’s furniture.

“What the fu-.”, before Donghyuck can even finish his sentence, the door abruptly opens, forcing everyone away from the entrance, your back crashes into Jeno’s chest who stood right behind you. A scared Jisung tumbles out the small room, almost running as fast as possible before letting his body fall on one of the Fatboys with a sound.

“Dude, what the fuck ?”, Jeno asks, half terrified and half amused, he doesn’t know what to feel yet. Jisung barely answers, he wonders for a moment if his friends won’t make fun of him for what’s going on in his mind. “Something touched me. Something touched me in there.”, he chokes out, breathing chopped. You know, you know Donghyuck is about to make fun of him before he walks towards the man, taken back by the genuinely afraid look he has on his face. “Wha- ? Are you okay ?”, he asks, palm resting on his friend’s upper arm in an attempt to calm him down.

Your attention gets grabbed by the still open door, you wouldn’t dare say it out loud but, there’s something strange about it. Pulled towards it, your eyes leave your visibly and audibly afraid friend for the dark place. You almost fear going inside and, you only look up at the dark room without entering, something in your body tells you not to. Staying right in front, it’s like you feel the shift in temperature between the living room and bathroom. Why does the bathroom look so...dark ? You barely register it, how the flashlights of your friends’ phones get absorbed by the darkness inside the smaller room, only lit by the small candle. It’s probably your brain, you think to yourself. A brain can do weird things to itself, it can imagine, create but, you’re sure you’re not hallucinating when you see the candle’s flame growing taller, wavering violently before eventually, getting blown. No wind, nothing, the pale trail of grey smoke flies straight upwards and you quickly back away, closing the door behind you in hopes of ending anything that went on in there.

“Here, here. Look !”, in the meantime, your entire group had gathered around Jisung, amused looks turned into worried ones at his twisted body on the coach. Jisung pulls his short sleeve up and, under Chenle’s flashlight, you think you might hallucinate again. Milky skin glows under the living room’s artificial light when Jaemin turns it on, it contrasts deeply with his epiderme but your brain would rather make anything up than believe your eyes. A light pink, slowly growing a deeper shade of red, five fingerprints around your friend’s arm mark his skin.

It’s almost two in the morning when your phone rings to the tune of a few texts, screen lightening with a notification from your beloved friend group chat. Body and mind trying its best to rest on your small bed, your eyes travel from your thin, white ceiling to your phone when you bring it up to your face, risking it falling straight on your nose. You quickly swipe a finger on the object and read the last text Jeno sent, something about wanting Jisung to take a shower and rest for the night, quickly followed by your other friends’ words.

There’s a sigh tumbling from your lips, the slight headache taking place right on your temples makes you want to bury your face right under your pillow but your small dorm is hot, way too hot for that. Window wide open, there isn’t an ounce of wind entering your room. You hate the feeling of sweat growing on your forehead, on your back, fabric sticking to your skin just like it did in front of Jeno’s bathroom. You feel drained, so, so drained. It is something you’re used to, especially after a full week of classes and a night with your friend but tonight, something feels different. There’s something off about your room, it doesn’t feel the same. You aren’t being watched, you know that, but you sure feel like it. Oppressed, stuck in such a small space, you’ve been rolling around your bed for minutes now, unable to sleep. After what happened in Jeno’s own dorm, natural instincts kicked in. All tried to find an excuse for what happened to Jisung, saying maybe your friend got the marks from bumping into the furniture, maybe he got these before even entering the room. Poor thing decided to let himself be convinced by the hypothesis thrown at him but, you couldn’t really understand everything else. The change in temperature, the lack of light, the candle blowing itself out, you can’t find a single excuse except maybe, just maybe, your mind’s playing tricks on you.

Your thumbs quickly work to type a message for your friend before you drop your device on your bed. Overthinking, that probably is what’s keeping you from falling asleep. It’s crazy, the number of videos around paranormal things you and Donghyuck watched together and yet, you two didn’t think about the rules before starting this stupid dare. Beating yourself up for not taking it seriously, you now remember how you’re supposed to say goodbye whenever starting a seance of Ouija. How you should not disrespect entities, know and do everything by the rules. You almost text Donghyuck about it but, you fear sounding too crazy.

Instead of Donghyuck, you text Johnny. It’s the urge of knowing more, the curiosity growing in your belly that you did not expect. The tall man’s one of the older students who told you about Yoonoh’s legend during the first party, he studies psychology in your building and you two became quite good friends after a while. He would help little you with administration but also, showed you some spots you still go to, to this day. Good friends, so much so you know he isn’t sleeping at such an hour. And, you don’t feel too guilty when you text him about the legend, almost completely out of the blue. Needless to say, the brunette was a bit taken back by the question. You saw it through his texts, but he quickly told you about all the things he knew and heard around the university legend. The same sentences your friend wrote on a piece of paper, the same Jisung was close to saying fully. A candle, like Jeno unknowingly provided and the young man took to the bathroom. But, there was one thing missing, or rather, two. The one who summons Yoonoh shall write their name on the mirror, clearly and without a mistake. Second, both palms have to be placed on the mirror. Flat, you don’t think you’re allowed to move them while reciting what you’d call a spell, much like on a Ouija board. All the things missing and yet, you still felt a slight shift in Jeno’s dorm, didn’t you ?

Turning your phone off once you wishing Johnny a good night, you find yourself turning the device on again, seconds after. Scrolling through your Twitter timeline and switching between the same two applications doesn’t help at all. Push it away, that feeling of being watched comes back like a bull. You hate it, so much. It’s just like the aftermath of watching a scary movie, you reassure yourself. Like that one time you watched Annabelle and slept with all your plushies outside your bedroom with the light open, right ? Sitting up on your bed, you almost feel ashamed when you turn your light on, quickly looking around your small dorm. Nothing’s there, nothing’s there. The slight fear adds to the sweat collecting on your skin, you feel too hot and yet, a cold shiver runs down your spine when your back meets your headboard. “It’s just a legend.”, you tell yourself out loud. One time, two times. Bringing your knees to your chest, your hands quickly grab at the thin sheet before you pull it towards your body, as if it’ll shelter you from anything paranormal. It’s just a legend, you tell yourself again when your eyes meet your reflection. What a stupid idea, having such a big mirror right in front of your bed. It takes all of your wardrobe, you remember loving it when you first moved in, taking advantage of the size for pictures. But now, it only added to your fear. You don’t know where to look, eyes traveling from your own body to the sides of your bed, the corners of your room. At least, nothing can hide in here, you think you’d see it immediately.

Your father would probably laugh at your face if he saw you right now. See, if your mother might believe in anything paranormal, your father never did and never will. He’d always find a scientific reason for anything weird happening in your house, reassuring you as best as he could. If he was here, what would he say, what would he do ? You ask yourself for a minute, keeping your knees close to your body.

He’d try it, see for himself and prove that the legend was all bullshit.

Calling him at such an hour wasn’t even an option, could you do it yourself ? You wonder, eyes glued on the mirror. You can not deny the slight curiosity rising in your chest, building up in your body. It’s weird, a morbid interest that has been sitting with you since Jisung ran out of the bathroom, since you saw the candle blow out by itself. Curious and adventurous, you always thought you were and, wouldn’t trying it help you prove the invalidity of the legend ?

Legs fall back on the bed, you barely can believe yourself when you stand up on your knees, sinking into your mattress. “Do it and go to bed, surely nothing will happen.”, you coach your reflection. You think it’s a mix of fear, pure curiosity and fatigue. Your body craves sleep and, in your half asleep state of mind, you take advantage of your boost of confidence, pushing away the paranoiac side of your brain. If it was real, more people would talk about it. If it was real, where are all the pictures and videos ? Clumsily stepping out of your bed, your feet touch the cold floor as you drag your body towards your makeup bag, blindly dipping a hand in. An old lipstick would do, right ? Right, you don’t even remember the last time you used this Sephora lipstick. The small candle you probably used twice in your life finds another use tonight as you grab it from your shelf, opening the small lid to clean the small bits of burnt thread.

A few steps is all you need before you stand in front of your mirror, letting your body rest from the little effort you did when you sit down right in front of it. It’s stupid, so so stupid, you think to yourself. Nothing will happen and you’ll tell this very story to your friends the next day, they’ll make fun of you for it for the next week and all will be good.

Taking the protection of your old lipstick off, you inspect it with a pout. A shame, such a pretty color you never really wore before the expiration date. The deep red stick comes up when you twist the bottom and you have to resist the urge of trying it on your lips, just to see. Rather, just like Johnny said, you write your name on the mirror. The paste easily leaves a red trace under the pressure of your fingers, it’s almost pleasing if you did not know how long you’ll take to clean it off after. Long sticks, you write your name clearly on the mirror before closing your old lipstick, leaving it at your side. Next, your fingers fumble inside your bag, trying to find your lighter. It’s one you rarely use but keep with you just in case and you quickly turn it on. The small flame dances under your mouvements, bringing the cold candle near your lighter. It quickly starts burning in your hands and you place the object right between your body and the mirror. There’s a sigh from your lips, you can’t believe it yourself when you lean forward, both palms flat on the cold surface. Above your name in red lipstick, you dare look at yourself. Actually, if you look at yourself, your attention won’t drift for the back of your bedroom in fear. And so, keeping your eyes on your reflection’s, you take a deep breath.

“Mirror, mirror, mirror.” you start off pretty easily, the one word rolling off your tongue without a second thought. Now that you’ve started it, you don’t think you can end everything just like that, you learned everything needs to be closed once started. “Take-...Take my reflection as home.”, you stutter, vision getting blurry for the quickest second. Probably the lack of sleep and fatigue, some water coats your eyes and you blink the teardrops away, finding a clear vision again. You sigh out for a second in an attempt to cool your body down, the same feeling slowly plunges on your shoulders. The one you felt while Jisung was doing the same thing but, this time, you were alone. The change in atmosphere is less abrupt but, you still feel it anyways. The air grows hotter, heavier, dense.

“Show me my deepest, darkest desires.”, you choke out, feeling your palms sweat up, trying your best to resist the urge to whip them. You shift uncomfortably on your spot, pushing away the goosebumps raising on your naked arms again. Wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible, you push all the signs away and continue, though your confidence runs out quickly. “Give to me, take from me.” The small candle flame flickers, it grows taller and, you have to push it away with a knee to prevent it from burning your clothes. Maybe it’s the open window, right ? But here it is again, the feeling of being watched. You hate it, you almost turn around or just, look behind you through the mirror. Instead, a groan escapes your lips, frustrated at yourself, tired, annoyed, scared.

It seems the two sides of your brain disappeared, your thoughts are radio silent, white noise. Fuck it, fuck it. Panic takes over your next actions, it pushes you over the edge. Closing your eyes, your head hangs low and you say the last words. “Yoonoh.”, you start, closing your eyes even more, forcing your eyelids. You feel it, the sudden presence right behind you, you fucking feel it. Your heart picks up right them, you never felt it pump so quickly against your ribcage. Heat burns your cheeks, your ears, your back. Unconsciously, your head hangs lower, shoulders rise up in a protective, natural reaction.

It truly feels like someone’s right here, with you and yet, you refuse to look. What the fuck are you doing, why the fuck are you doing this ? A hiccup, the outline of a cry tumbles from your lips. Ah, how the fear managed to wash over you like the rising tide eating at the shore. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. Teeth tight against each other, your jaw grows sore as you feel the heat of the small candle at your side. Letting your eyes flutter open the slightest bit, it’s when you see the flame violently dance, shaking from different sides that you decide it has to be over, now.

“Yoono- Yoonoh, Yoonoh.”, you blur them out so quickly it’d be funny in another situation, the sounds are barely separated from each other, barely make sense. Your tongue feels heavy, mouth clumsy when you finish the spell of. Your irregular, hard breathing almost keeps you from hearing. Hearing it.

Ah, how long Jaehyun - or Yoonoh - waited and longed for such a moment. Actual hours that felt like years for one of you to summon him properly. And, he has to say, he’s glad you were the one to do it, call him over with your pretty voice, fearful eyes and deadly curiosity. He felt it, the morbid interest peeking in your small body, he knew you would do it the moment you noticed the candle blowing out, he knew you weren’t dumb. See, when Jisung had attempted to summon him, he had almost brought Jaehyun to his mirror, he almost did it. He was so close, so close to it that Jaehyun managed to have a blurry view of the odd scene. Needless to say, the cursed had a good laugh at it but, the anger and frustration he felt at your chicken of a friend still lingered. When was the last time someone summoned him ? Jaehyun does not remember, he doesn’t have any notion of time, he lost it long, long ago. When was the last time he had fun with a foolish human ? He does not remember either but, something tells him he will make it up with you. Jaehyun isn’t alive but, the closest of “alive” he can feel, it’s in moments like this, properly summoned, ready for his deal. Eating your reflection, taking its place easily, the young looking man takes your bedroom in for a second, it’s all in reversed for him who’s stuck in your mirror. Speaking of, he likes it. Big, tall, he notices your name neatly written in what he guesses is red lipstick. Taking your reflection’s place, both his hands lay flat against your palms, kneeled down, he’s significantly taller than you but still, he notices the contourcion in your features, the fear. He loves it, he loves oh so much. The fear, the regret, he adores it all. He knows it’ll be even better once you open your eyes and understand your faith. Mirroring your position, the man doesn’t move, he loves the proximity, how close your face is to his. Wicked smile on his rosy lips, it tugs up at a side, pearly white canine showing, the tip of his tongue rests on the sharp tooth. Oh, he’ll eat you up and savour it just like he did with your reflection.

“Hi, Y/N.”

The reactions, Jaehyun thrives off the reactions. The fear in people’s eyes, the tears, the cries, the shouts, the realisation flashing, twisting people’s features, he fucking gets off of it. He knows what to expect and yet, when you finally open your eyes, barely take in his face and jump back immediately, he chuckles out, he groans happily, excited even. You barely believe it, a man replaces your reflection, he doesn’t follow your movements when you tumble backwards and feel your spine hit your bed, the scream you were about to let out getting knocked out of your lungs. Instead, it’s a loud whine you let out. What the fuck, the actual fuck. Both your hands cover your mouth, Jaehyun notices how shaky they are and cooes, head tilting to the side. What a pretty toy to play with. A knee down, the other leg bent against his chest, the man in the mirror lets his head rest there, patiently waiting for you to finally speak up. Strangely, he’s a patient man, he had some people run away on him, not speak for hours at the shock, even. You think you’re hallucinating, you almost pinch yourself but you know, you’d be awake if this was a dream. The impact of your bed against your back tells you that this, this is real. As much as your brain hates to believe it, takes minutes to process it and still has its doubts, you react just in case. You react out of pure instinct. The bag you use everyday gets pulled next to you and you quickly push a hand inside, looking for one thing only. A young college student needs to protect itself when walking home from late classes, the butterfly knife you wished you’d never have to use finds your fingertips and, when you feel the cold metal, you pull it out.

“Ah-a. Don’t make me mad so quickly, doll.”, the man in your mirror sings, nickname rolling out of his tongue. You think you’re going to throw up, the ball in your throat keeps you from speaking but you don’t let his words scare you. In a swift motion, you open the object and let the blade stand straight towards your mirror. You try, you try your best to seem less afraid, but you’re sure you look foolish to him. And it sure does. A sigh tumbles from the man’s lips, a hand running in his dark brown locks. Thoughts clash and collide in your dizzy, clouded brain but still. He looks...normal almost, if it isn’t for the twisted grin on his lips, the lack of light in his dark eyes.

“Your little knife won’t hurt me.”, he informs you, a small pout on his lips. He stays there, still patiently waiting for you to say something. Though he likes peoples’ reactions, he likes it even better when he hears about their darkest desires, the things that pushed them over the edge, things they graved to the point of summoning him, an entity many deem as fake, a legend. A hand on your floor, you support yourself with it, fearing your body giving out even if you’re already down. Mouth dry, you swallow harshly before finding your tongue again. “What if I break the mirror.”

It’s a threat but oh, it sounds so sweet to the young man. You’re a courageous one, and fierce at that, Jaehyun can already tell and he loves it. Truly, he can not wait ; to break you down little by little, see that same fierceness in your pupils slowly disappear for obedience. There’s a small laugh tumbling from his lips again, cheek rubbing against his knee. “Ouh, she speaks.” Leaning a bit closer to the mirror, the man hums a little, eyes on the sharp blade. “Break it, it won’t do anything to me. Except make me mad.”

For some reason, you believe him. Maybe it’s the daring look he gives you, silently wondering if you’ll have the guts to come closer to him. Clearly, you don’t, staying as far as your bed allows you. Your heart’s still beating too fast against your ribcage, breathing unevenly and you try to focus on your rhythm instead of the man right in front of you. “Come on. Deep breathes, kid.”

There’s something that clicks in your brain at this very moment, your throat seems to unravel and words flow out of your lips, avoiding what a side of your brain still thinks is an illusion. “I- We thought this was a legend, we thought it was fake.”, voice small, you fumble around, hands on your sheet before you find your phone.

“‘it’ and ‘this” has a name.”, the man sternly says, eyes following your mouvements. As said, he saw it all before, the startled look in your eyes when your device went dead in your hand was one he enjoyed a bit too much. “It won’t work.”, he notes in a hum.

“Y-Yoonoh ?”, you hate how it’s a question tumbling from your lips, half hoping one of your friend’s going to erupt out of your closet with a camera. There’s a disappointed sound from him, thumb running on his pink bottom lip, locks falling in front of his eyes. “Haven’t used that name in years. Please, darling. Call me Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun, the sound rings in your ears. Eyes wide, you clench your dead phone around your fingers. “You’re real.”

“As much as you are.”, he’s amused to say the least, lips stretching at a corner. There, he decided to get up, taking advantage of your tall mirror. It’s weird, how he isn’t wearing anything old, dirty, anything you’d think an entity would wear. A black blouse loose on his shoulders, he rolls the fabric to his elbows, what you think are black costume pants on his legs, his shoes you cannot see with the dark fog dancing around him.

“You look...Normal.”, you dumbly let out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. With other clothes, he’d easily pass as another boy in your campus. Then, he chuckles, you’re cute. It resonates in your small room, a deep dimple craved on each cheek. He seems pleased, standing right in front of your body. Hands in his pocket, he leans a bit forward.

“Oh, doll. What were you expecting ? A big, bloody man ? Old and creepy ?” You nod at that, you surely were not expecting such a young looking man, you weren’t expecting him. “You surely didn’t summon anyone else, then. Does that mean I’m your first ? Ah- cute.”

You don’t really know what comes to you, speaking almost freely to this entity and yet, you’re still afraid. There’s no doubt, the dip in your stomach and the sweat on your palms. “I-...I don’t believe in these kinds of things.”, you tell him without a second thought, without understanding how dumb this might sound.

“Oh, really ? And do you, now ?”, Jaehyun decides he likes being at eye level better, kneeling, resting on his heels, he props his chin inside his palm again. Deep, dark eyes, it’s what strikes you the most. They curl lightly inside, outer corners stretched with what you think is a dark eyeshadow. He grins again, though his eyes never gain any light. Your brain surrounders, finally coming around the fact that this, might be real. You stay silent, bringing your knees to your chest again.

“Oh, she does.”, voice stained, gravy, he whispers out after some seconds of silence. “She believes.”, Jaehyun points out before you do with a breathless chuckle. There’s something twisted about him, you only needed seconds to understand how he fed of your initial fear, how he craved the trembling lips, watery eyes and shaky hands. Now, it seems he wants to play.

“Now, you know what comes with summoning me, hm ?”, you nod at that, slowly coming to the realisation that you, have two wishes. Two possibilities. You could make your life so, so much better, right ? But a side of your brain still dismisses all of this as fake, you doubt Jaehyun’s powers for a moment. “Two wishes.”, you tell him and he nods, pleased.

Pearly white teeth glow at his carnal smile, pupils slowly growing until his irises almost disappear. “A deal, unbreakable. You, will be sealed to me. Me, to you. Forever in the nearest mirror until the contract ends, I will follow as your reflection. Two wishes I shall grant you. One you shall grant me. “No” we both cannot use.”, he hums. Dreaded, realization falls onto your shoulders, the next sentence makes it too real. “Now, doll. Tell me. Tell me your deepest, darkest desires.”, he whispers, leaning closer to the barrier the mirror creates.

The groan he lets out almost startles you, stained and deep, it’s almost a moan. “I’ve been waiting for so long.” Head thrown back, locks of his hair fall backwards as he reveals his pale neck. You gulp down, you never thought about it, only summoned him in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I didn’t...I didn’t think about that.”, you whisper out, slightly frightened at what he might be able to do. Jaehyun’s twisted smile never leaves his face, head tilted to the side.

“Come on, kid. I’m sure you can find something.”, he starts. His right thumb pressed on his fingers, one by one. Cracking his knuckles, the sound’s bone chilling for your ears. “You know, you can wish for anything in the world.” Anything ? That’s the issue, you can’t think of anything right now. Unable to look at the entity in front of you, your eyes travel to the side, fixated on the small paint stain on your floor. What do you want ? You can barely think in such a situation, not when his eyes are fixated on you, intense, dark, awaiting. It’s the pressure that makes you speak again, your brain lashes onto the first thought that comes across your mind.

“Popularity.”, you finally blur out, something the main character of a movie would’ve said. What a fool. Popularity, you don’t even need it, you just think it would be new to have people finally looking at you, knowing who you are.

“Popularity ?”, Jaehyun says, eyebrows raised. He seems slightly taken back, amused still. “I’ve had much, much more interesting wishes.”, he says, dark eyes looking down at you. You hate it, the judgement he shows, you know you could’ve wished for anything else. He does not elaborate on that - yet. Rather, he nods. Palms against each other, his last and fourth fingers are laced together, both thumbs, pointer and middle fingers pointed to the ceiling. There’s a dark glow right behind him, the black fog rather around the entity and, before you can change your wish, his eyes plant right in yours. They glow with something different, his voice resonates in your room, it comes out of all the mirrors you own.

“Then, Y/N. So be it !”

That night, you don’t sleep at all. Or at least, you don’t think you do, even when trying your hardest. If Jaehyun doesn’t appear in your mirror again, if he seems to disappear after your wish in an attempt to let you rest, you’re hyper aware of the fact that he’s here anyways. Jaehyun’s presence lingers, the effect he has in your dorm is undeniable, you can not push it away. Air dry, atmosphere tense, he’s everywhere and anywhere. “Forever in the nearest mirror until the contract ends.”, that’s exactly what he said. If he’s watching you sleep ? Is he, himself, sleeping ? Does he even need to ? Questions collide, none of them find an answer and rather, create new ones in their wake.

Fatigue crashes on your body at once when you finally get yourself to blow the candle out and turn the lights of your bedroom off, so does the anxiety. Finally realising what you’ve just done, what you just got yourself into. It barely feels real, minutes go by on the clock and, when you’re not glaring at the numbers casted on your ceiling, you’re fearfully looking at your mirror. For the first time since you moved here, you hate this mirror. From the placement right in front of your bed to the size, you wonder why your campus thought this was a good idea.

At some point, you do have to rest with your head right under your covers, finding a small bit of comfort with the duvet around your body. Maybe you dove back and forth into Morpheus’ arms but, your body shakes itself awake every time, almost giving you a mini heart attack. Soon enough, the lack of light gets replaced with the pale sunlight of the early morning, allowing you to catch a few minutes of sleep or so. Even if it varies with age, scientists say a human is able to live without sleep for around eleven days. You wonder if your body is able to go with a day of sleep. Thinking about it now, sleep deprivation comes with illusions and, you swear you sa-.

“Y/N ?”, Jaemin’s voice rings right next to you, forcefully pulling you out of your too loud and invasive of thoughts. Eyes unfocused on your meal, your attention turns towards your friend in a second. From the silence in your group and the slight smile dancing on Jaemin’s lips, you guess he has been calling for you for a few seconds now. “Oh, sorry. Yeah ?”, you mumble out, placing the wooden chopsticks in your half full box, one you barely touched.

“Dude, not to be rude but you look awful. You good ?”, Jeno, right in front of you, interjects before anyone else can speak. The young man looks genuinely concerned, eyebrows furrowed. You can’t help but notice, his eye bags don’t look too bad for a college student. They’re also, nowhere as bad as yours.

“Yeah. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”, sighing a little, you let your cheek rest against your fist. You could fall asleep right then and there, on this very bench. The sun isn’t too harsh on your skin, no mirrors and, most importantly, you’re surrounded by your friends. Taking an entire picnic table in the middle of your campus, chinese food was bought but, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat more than a few bites, head heavy.

There’s a laugh from Donghyuck, who just finished his food in one go. “Is it because of that dumb legend ?”

“Dumb legend”, something doesn’t feel right when your friend lets the words out so, so carelessly. You can’t deny the shiver that runs down your spine at that moment, though you don’t see any mirrors anywhere close. Another uncomfortable silence takes place in the middle of the table, before Jisung speaks, finally. “I honestly felt weird yesterday night.”, he mumbles out, letting the tip of his chopsticks hit the bottom of his box a few times, like he’s embarrassed to admit it. It doesn’t shock you that he did, that the one who attempted to summon Jaehyun felt his lingering presence, the aftermath of not properly executing a ritual. What take you back, are Chenle and Jaemin’s next words.

“Same. I almost tried that shit myself.”, Chenle says, half joking. In your half asleep state, your eyes widen for a second. Straightening your back, Jaemin beats you at the fast talker. “Dude, same ? I just wanted to try and see what would happen, you know ?”, he says. Your hand wraps around his arm, catching his attention. A little “You too ?” falls from his lips and you can only nod, looking over at Chenle.

So they felt it too. The sudden feeling of not being alone, not being the crazy one. “I thought I was making things up.”, you gasp. You have to say, in another situation, Donghyuck’s face would’ve been funny. He looks so, so disappointed when you start listing the weird coincidence you and your two friends experienced the night prior. From the change in temperature and the feeling of being watched, Renjun and Jeno watch and listen, horrified. “But obviously, I didn’t try it.”, Jaemin adds, and you almost feel like disappearing. “Yeah, yeah...Same. Just didn’t sleep well.”, you mimic, and it seems to convince your friends.

So they felt it too and, you were apparently the only one to follow your feeling, the only one that compulsively tried it out. You hate it, maybe you should’ve texted one of them, called them or even went to one of your friend’s dorms to sleep and you wouldn’t have been in such a situation. What a dumb move, what the slight confidence and curiosity had you summon, you almost let your forehead rest against the old wood. You almost do, if it isn’t for all your friends simultaneously turning their head to the side.

Silence falls yet again in your group as you all look, slightly confused at the young man standing right next to you. Bright red hair, eyebrow slit, bold fashion style, everyone in this campus knows him as Lee Taeyong. See, if schools have their famous clique, the Heather and whatever is the masculine equivalent, you thought it all stopped once in university. You thought wrong. On your first visit, you quickly understood who exactly were the famous and unaccessible guys. Taeyong, was one of them. From his intimidating looks, ever changing hair color, sharp features and deep voice, he had everyone’s attention. Needless to say, you never saw him from so, so close.

“Hey...Looking for something ?”, ah Donghyuck. Always the bold, the lifesaver. Sipping on his bubble tea, he looks straight at the oldest who barely gives him any attention.

“Yes, actually.”, the red haired answers, gaining a few confused looks from your group. Looking at Jaemin for a second, you silently wonder if any of your friends know the Lee Taeyong enough for him to let himself be seen in your company. It seems he doesn’t understand either, quickly raising his shoulders. Catching your straw between your lips, you slowly sip onto the last drop of your juice, curious.

“Y/N ?”, the dance student asks, looking straight into your eyes. It’s strange, how his eyes only manage to make you shift a little on your seat. You have to say, you did not know he knew your name, even was aware of your existence. Sure, him and Johnny were friends but, you doubt your friend told him about you. Still sucking on the last drops, you nod slowly. “I’m hosting a party this Sunday, are you coming ?”

You choke on the liquid. Uh ? What’s going on ? You think it’s the lack of sleep that makes you hear things, but he doesn’t seem to mind and continues. “To celebrate the end of exam season. You’re Johnny’s friend, right ? He’ll send you the address.”

And, just like that, the oldest smiles down at you and leaves. He leaves and lets your friends glare at you for answers, answers you do not have.

Or maybe, you do. Wishing for popularity, you almost forgot about it. Was that how it began, people you barely know inviting you and not your friends to parties ? “What the fuck just happened ?”, asks Renjun, almost turning around to glare at Taeyong who sits with his friends, giving you a quick look.

“I have no idea.”

On any other normal, ordinary day, you would’ve opened your door without a second thought, mechanically almost. Throwing your bag at the foot of your bed before letting your body fall right in the middle of the mattress after a long, long day. But, your life is apparently far, far from ordinary since last night. Practically stuck in front of your dorm’s door, your fist unconsciously clenches the leather strap of your backpack. Knuckles turning white, it’s almost like you’re gripping the last bits of your sanity. Once you enter the four walls of what once was your safe space, you can only guess what is going to wait for you.

Anyways, you cannot sleep right in front of your door, you can’t work on the dirty floor of your hallway, right ? It takes another rush of courage for you to push the handle down and finally allow yourself to enter your dorm. Even if you were ready for anything to happen, the sound of his voice once you close your door makes you jump back against the wood. “Ah, doll. Finally.”, it’s sultry, deep, it follows the look on his eyes when you carefully step towards your bed, second guessing his next actions.

How are you supposed to act when you have an entity living in your mirror ? You wish Google could answer this question, you really do. Quickly glaring at the man in front of you, you’re a lot less scared now that the sun freely enters your bedroom, enough for you to notice a few more details that you might have missed the night prior. Victorian clothes, the tip of his fingers a dark grey as they dance on his jawline, Jaehyun still has the same cocky smile on his rosy lips.

“Had a taste of popularity yet ?”, he asks, though he already knows the answer very well. Non-verbal, you keep an eye on your mirror while letting your bag fall on the floor, awkwardly sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Uh, yeah.”, you let out, fingernails slightly gazing over the skin of your arm. You had a feeling it was him or rather, the wish you had blurred out hours before. It had to be, right ? Sure, Johnny knows Taeyong but you doubt he invites all his friend’s friends. Even, you and Johnny weren’t close enough and barely hung out, keeping your friendship almost strictly virtually. Not to point out the fact that the young man only invited you and did not even have the courtesy to invite the rest of your group.

Finally, you decide to take your shoes off, scooting back to the middle of your bed, wood slightly cracking under your mouvements. Here, you believe you can have your eyes on the entity at any moment, just in case. What a strange situation, you don’t even know if you can work properly in such conditions, let alone take a shower and sleep peacefully.

“Darling, you don’t look too happy with your wish.”, the young man notes, slight amusement dancing in his voice. Apparently, Jaehyun has a habit of squatting to sit down; elbow on his knee, head in his palm, he quickly raises his eyebrows at you. Isn’t it weird ? How he is still here, asking questions like an old - weird - friend shaking up on a friend. Maybe, your view on entities might be flawed, oriented by pop culture but, you sure weren’t expecting anything like this.

“I’m tired.”, you simply say, clearly not prepared to have a casual conversation with the entity you summoned. Picking at a loose thread on your jeans, a sigh leaves your lips the moment you grab onto your phone and notice how, even now, it won’t turn on, nice. You don’t dare point it out, though.

“Oh, kid. I can tell.”, your eyes quickly look up at his words, half in misbelief. Clearly, he doesn’t care for the daggers your eyes are throwing at him, tinted fingers twirling the dense fog around him. “You look close to death. And believe me, I saw my fair share of people on the bridge between our world and everything beyond.”

Your death glare quickly turns to a surprised, taken back one, clearly offended. Apparently, the young man finds amusement in this again, a quiet chuckle tumbling from his lips. How could he laugh, probably knowing he’s the reason you barely slept last night. Fighting with the entity stuck in your mirror, yet another thing you never even thought you’d experience.

“You’re the reason why I look like this ! I-I barely slept tonight.”, your voice audibly quiets down the moment you understand the tone you’re using on a creature you can’t begin to understand, one that has powers beyond your comprehension. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, his smile twists again, he likes them feisty.

“I know.”, he simply says, batting his eyelashes, they’re long, dark. “But you, doll. Do you realise I can not do anything to you ?”, he asks and, you have to look to the side for a moment, Jaehyun continues. “I’m stuck in this mirror, I can not reach you.”

Jaehyun can be lying. He probably is. After all, you aren’t aware of the totality of his abilities, he’s born from a dark ritual, meant to grant any desire, as twisted as they may be. Then again, why would he be lying ? If he could reach you, you think he could’ve tried something the night before. “You can’t ?”, biting down on your lower lip, you ask a bit quietly, raising your shoulders instinctively.

“Actually, I can lean out of any mirror and reach anything at arm length but, it takes a lot of energy out of me.”, Jaehyun says, running a hand in his locks and, you have to say, the sheer thought of seeing him reach out of your mirror has your blood leaving your face, surely a sight you don’t want to witness. You don’t even ask for a demonstration, you’d rather keep the little sanity you still have now, without the image of an entity leaning out to your world. Does that mean he can reach out and grab the bag you left on the floor ? You almost lean down and tug it towards you and away from your mirror but, decide against it. At the very least, you now know that you can sleep without him walking out of your mirror.

“Do you...Do you need to sleep ? You said it took energy.” What comes to you again ? Asking questions so freely, you guess having answers will help you be less scared. Bringing your knees to your shoulders, your body relaxes a bit when you notice the entity looking at you, seemingly taken back by a human asking him questions. Little do you know, Jaehyun doesn’t remember the last time someone wanted to know more about himself, he might as well.

“I do not need to sleep, I feed off people summoning me.”, he simply explained, getting up. You wonder for a second if he isn’t bored in your mirror, it seems like he does not have anything to do in there, you might even pity him for a second. “As long as people summon me, I exist. Once people forget about me, I’ll be gone.”, Jaehyun utters, slowly walking from one end of your mirror to another.

“Isn’t it...Boring in there ?”, you wonder out loud, head tilted to the side. If you saw an entity being vulnerable, for the shortest of seconds, Jaehyun regains his attitude pretty quickly. There’s a laugh, a loud one you fear someone else will hear as he readjusts his rings on his fingers, one by one, before facing you again.

“Oh, no. See, usually, people know what they’re going to wish for, their desires are dark, thrilling. Darling, yours are just plain and uninteresting.”, the entity notes, quietly. The gasp you let out at this is almost comical, though the young man doesn’t even let a reaction out. Eyebrows furrow, you almost have the reflex to throw something at your mirror.

“I wasn’t- I didn’t even think it would work !”, you blur out a bit too loudly, letting your knees fall on your mattress. “I don’t have any dark, twisted desires, it’s not my fault !”, quickly losing yourself in excuses and defenses, you don’t notice Jaehyun’s smile growing wider at your attempts, passing back and forth in your mirror. “Even ! What did the others wish for ?”, you ask, clearly annoyed by the one way argument you just had.

The question seems to pick the entity’s interest, you finally notice the habit he has of facing you when something interests him and, on the contrary, mindlessly passing until you’re done speaking when he isn’t interested at all. “Ah, what did the others wish for ? Doll, I do not think you’re ready to hear humanity’s most twisted impulses.”

Curiosity and pride poked, you quickly blur back, crossing your legs. “I summoned you. I think I can hear it.” Eyes narrow, the young man takes a few seconds to judge, “Don’t you have some class work to do ? Friends to see ? I do not know, church to attend ?” You almost laugh at that, almost forget what time he probably comes from to speak in such a way. “No, I don’t.” It’s probably the slight determination in your voice mixed with the urge to tell his stories that does it for Jaehyun. Though he sighs, it’s almost a content one he has while remembering the endless acounters he had. “What do you think people summon me for ?”, he suddenly asks, starting again with his infinite passing.

“Money, power.”, you start, and he only nods without looking at you. Suddenly, Jaehyun disappears and you almost back against the head of your bed, if it isn’t for his voice coming from the smaller mirror in your dressing table. God, how you feared it was haunted when you first bought it, even if it was straight out of ikea. You guess that now, it is. “Power.” Jaehyun eventually goes to the mirror in your bathroom, seemingly effortlessly, “Money.” You hear his voice resonate, even in this room full of furniture. Finally, he comes back again to your main mirror, the one you summoned him on. “Love.”, a lion in his cage.

Only then, do you notice your name still written in red lipstick, one you should probably clean off if you weren’t so scared of coming close to him.

“Humans are greedy, so greedy to have what isn’t meant to be theirs. They’d go to great length for a twisted illusion, a flawed reality their selfish heart craves.”, he speaks through gritted teeth, it sends a shiver down your spine, makes the atmosphere colder. “I’ve had a prince, once. The second born, far far from the throne.”, Jaehyun starts, a finger tapping on his chin. “Do you know what he wished for, once he had the guts to summon me ?”, the entity suddenly asks, abruptly turning towards you. Taken back, all you can do is shake your head from left to right, hands gripping the fabric of your jeans. He told you, that people summoning him gave him more energy. You wonder if staying in the presence of the one calling him gives him more too, the effects he has on your small dorm are even more noticeable now than last night.

“For his entire family’s death.”, Jaehyun related.

He says this simply, so simply. If he notices the slight shift in your breathing, he doesn’t point it out and continues.

“Such a naïve, naïve boy.”, Jaehyun hums, a slight pout on his lips. “He makes me think of you. He didn’t think it would work. But, unlike you, when he saw me, he knew what he wanted.” There’s a slight pause, where Jaehyun hums, like he’s remembering some details. “‘Tell me your deepest, darkest desires’, I said. ‘Kill them all’, the fool immediately said.” You have to say, you’re a bit captivated by how he reenacts the scene, hands flying in gestures.

“Did you ?”, you ask almost dumbly, eyes wide. It’s like your brain still hasn’t processed everything the entity in front of you can do. It’s only when the entity gives you an empty look that you let a small, “Oh” tumblr from your lips. Obviously, he did. It’s the morbid curiosity, the one that almost has you asking how he did it but, you push it away. You convince yourself that you don’t want to know nor hear it and thankfully, Jaehyun continues before you can open your mouth. “Poor thing, he wasn’t on the throne for long.”, the man notes. For the first time, something dances in his eyes. Something he’s hiding from you has his lips parting in a quiet chuckle, like he’s remembering an old joke.

He’s capable of murder. That, you know now. A dip in your stomach, it’s probably the way he talks about it so nonchalantly that frightens you the most. You don’t doubt, the entity probably saw and experienced a lot. Now, can you blame him ? He’s tied to a ritual, probably forced to grant wishes. You wonder, what would happen if he doesn’t act on them. Is he at fault for all the things he did ? You almost question your own morals.

“What do people ask for the most ?”, you wonder out loud. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind the questions and, the lack of homework, phone and intimacy has you stuck with him. Might as well. The entity seems to pounder for a bit, you think you might go crazy only with the way he keeps walking back and forth in your small mirror.

“Love.”, he finally tells you, never stopping his steps. “But it’s never true love, it’s never as perfect as they pictured it.”

So, he’s capable of forcing feelings on someone ? For the nth time, you wonder exactly what he’s capable of, where his powers stop. And here you were, asking for popularity. Sure, it could help in the long run but, you could’ve asked for so much better. But, you still have a second wish, right ? It’s there, suddenly, that you remember why you and your friends tried to summon him in the first place. Eyes wide, you move a bit closer to the mirror, though keeping some distance.

“Is it true ? Eric ?”, you ask suddenly. It’s all because your friend talked about him, all because of a dumb rumor he heard.

“Eric ?”, Jaehyun needs a few seconds to place the name again, furrowed eyebrows relaxing after a moment. The name seems to bring some discomfort into his features and, though it disappeared after a moment, you still notice it. Silent for a moment, you press on anyways. “That he summoned you, it’s true, isn’t it ?”

Oh, how you probably shouldn’t have asked. If Jaehyun is able to control his emotions, his features turning cold, unreadable, the effect he has on your dorm can not go unnoticed. Air cold, dense, you don’t take long to understand his experience with Eric probably was not the greatest. But again, isn’t Jaehyun a powerful entity ? Why would his reaction be so radical to such a normal human ?

“He did.”, the young man finally says, cold, abrupt.

Is he the reason why Eric went at the top of his class ? It probably is but, what you’re most curious about is why exactly, the old college student turned so...weird. Sure, you don’t doubt the experience of successfully summoning a demon might...change someone but, it seems Jaehyun didn’t have him in his heart either. Did something happen between them ? Did Eric not grant Jaehyun’s final wish ? Were the rumors true ? Your brain’s deciding between asking and dropping the subject and, as you’re about to open your mouth again, the entity beats you at it.

“Shouldn’t you go take a shower ? Rest early tonight.” and, just like that, he disappears from your mirror.

People have told you many times.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

You should not be here, at all. You’re supposed to have a major class right at this moment. But, a teacher being sick and a lack of substitute teachers appeared like a sign of the universe to you. See, Jaehyun’s abrupt disappearance left you with more questions, questions that only duplicated the moment you finally took a well deserved shower - after covering your mirror with a towel, just in case.

What happened with Eric ? Probably the last thought before sleep knocked you out in mere minutes. And really, the universe wouldn’t have made it so easy to find him if they didn’t want you to search, right ? A few texts here and there, Johnny yet again managed to help you more than he can imagine. Eric’s address was sent to you fifteen minutes after your class was officially cancelled and, you took the chance. Faking having some questions about both his major and job, Johnny didn’t ask any more questions.

And here you were. Right in front of Eric’s building.

The richer, nicer era, one you never visited before. After all, you don’t know anyone living there. Pretty, tall and new buildings, small parks, high end stores. One can only dream of living in such a nice era a year after leaving university.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”, you think again. In front of the old university student’s building, glass doors pushed open to reveal a pristin, clear and minimalist lobby. “But satisfaction brought it back.”, you tell yourself.

What are you doing here ? You don’t really know. All you can really understand and form in your fogged up brain is that Eric, him, might be the only one able to understand you at this very moment. Maybe he has answers to the questions you have and are too afraid to ask. What could go wrong ? A lot, actually. But you -once again - decide to act on impulse rather than think about it. It’s a slight confidence you have that goes to your head, fogs any other rational thought.

The lobby’s empty, calm. An abstract beige and white painting hung at your right, you immediately notice the ceiling high mirror on your left. Your reflection, it’s almost weird to see it. It has you doubting, doubting that this, is even your image here. But, you push the thought aside quickly, walking towards the little letter boxes. Kim Eric, Kim Eric. You don’t take too long to find his name tag, right next to his apartment number. Right at the top of the building, you can’t even begin to imagine the price he must’ve payed.

Nonetheless, you make your way towards the single elevator. There, another mirror. You might think Eric was just a weird kid, that Jaehyun never had anything to do with this. After all, wouldn’t he want to live somewhere without mirrors if the rumors were true ?

Facing the metal doors, you turn away from the mirror, head moving to the calm tune of the metal box. Unconsciously avoiding the glass yourself, you’re standing closer to the opening than usual.

What you do not see, is your reflection not following your movement, glaring into your skull.

That weird feeling of being watched again, isn’t it ? It creeps up your spine and you try your best at pushing it aside, forcing your brain to focus on the quiet melody. A small part of your brain fears, if you turn around right now, would Jaehyun be facing you ? He’s everywhere, you’re aware of that and yet, decide to cover this truth.

Thankfully, the elevator doesn’t stop until the very last floor, letting you escape the small cubicle before you can feel too uncomfortable, before the courage wears off and has you overthinking. And, only then do you really realise what you are doing. Visiting someone you don’t know at all, only heard rumors about only because the two of you happened to summon the same entity.

Should you really be doing this ? It seems Jaehyun doesn’t have Eric in his heart, wouldn’t he be mad ? But, he said he couldn’t do anything to you, you just have to do it, for closure. Do it, for closure-. Before your brain can stop you, you take the few steps towards Eric’s door, 165 written in golden letters on the pale wooden door. Clean carpet, big windows letting you have a breathtaking view on the area, you wonder for a second time how much money he must make to afford this place. Bringing your fist up to the door, you knock a first time.

Silence. A kind of deception slowly takes over your body but, you guess you should’ve thought about it, maybe he’s working or, just out, like a regular citizen.

Pure silence falls and you now wonder if you did not misread the signs, if you really should be here. Head hanging low, you’re almost about to mentally beat yourself up before your eyes fall on it. Covered by a thing, white sheet, something’s placed right against the wall. Neatly packed, you for a second think it’s a set of paintings. But, it’s the smallest of seconds, you don’t need more to understand right then.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”, you think for the nth time, but you act on it, yet again. Eric isn’t here anyways, no one would notice. Slightly leaning down, you take the sheet between your fingers and lift it up. Paintings, thin pieces of wood, it could’ve been anything but hélas, covered under the fabric is what you feared most. Different mirrors, different sizes, obviously from different rooms. There’s a sigh that tumbles from your lips, are you going to end just like this ? Scared of mirrors, avoiding them ? It’s just when you get back up that you think your heart might jump out of your body.

“Excuse me ? What are you doing here ?”, deep, breathless voice comes from the stairs you didn’t even notice. Jumping away from the door, a hand lands on your beating heart, a soundless gasp at the border of your parted lips. Eric stands clueless.He’s an average sized man, clearly out of shape, slender eyes with a prominent european nose. He does not know you but you, on the other hand, saw pictures of him. If he looked weird a few years ago, it might be worse now. If you look out of place with your regular, broke college student clothes, he does even more. Dirty, washed out and oversized t-shirt, long, brown greasy hair, he grips the iron next to him. He took the stairs, all the way to his apartment to avoid the mirror, it strikes you there. Slight anxiety takes over you, you didn’t expect him to be like this, you didn’t expect to feel so...off.

“I-uh. Eric ?”, you ask, already knowing the answer. Slightly taken back, you let the way to his door free for him to walk, not knowing how to act towards him. He, still seems distant, rightfully so. Wavy, dry hair brushed out, his runs a hand in it before fishing for his keys.

“Are you selling something ? I’m not interest-.”, he mumbles. You notice the bags under his eyes, dried lips. He almost looks sick, he acts like an old person in a young body.

“Oh, no ! My name’s Y/N. We’re from the same university.”, you tell him. He doesn’t look so convinced, slowly walking towards his door. Even when he puts his key in, he still has an eye on you, like he fears being robbed right there.

“Uh ? And what do you want ?”, the man groans out. He has you taking a step back again. How are you supposed to tell him exactly ? Shit, you didn’t think about that, at all. A “Hey, we summoned the same entity !” surely won’t do it. The lack of words from your side seems to annoy him quite quickly. Taking a step in his apartment, he immediately used the door to shelter himself, only letting his upper body be seen. He doesn’t look happy, at all. And yet, he has such a pretty apartment, right ? It’s only when he turns his light on that you see the state of the inside. All windows closed and blocked, clothes, empty boxes of instant noodles on the floor alongside a bunch of papers, it looks like a madman’s home. Even his home gives you weird vibes and suddenly, a part of you doesn’t want to be here. anymore.

Eric notices your wandering eyes and, it’s here he has enough, closing his door a little more. “Listen, Y/N. I don’t have your time right now, so-.”

For a second time, you cut him off. “It’s about Jaehyun.”, you blur about without another thought.

His annoyed look turns frightened in seconds. The name seems to bring back a lot, things you don’t doubt he was trying to get away from. Glossy eyes wide, chapped lips parted, he looks like he’s about to have a heart attack, or like he just saw a ghost. Fuck, what did you just do ? He caughts a bit but, he isn’t as good as the entity when it comes to hiding his emotions. “I-I don’t want to talk about it. It’s just a dumb legend anyways.” Oh, he’s trying to deny, deflect. The moment he’s about to close the door, you act quickly and let your shoe block the door.

“I did it too.”, you tell him, almost breathless. It almost feels good, to say it but, it lasts for mere milliseconds. Clearly, it doesn’t feel as good for the oldest. You think he might cry when the words process at this very moment, a sound tumbles from his lips. However, no words are said. His eyes fall upon the sheet covered glass at his shoes and, before you can understand, he manages to shut his door in your face. He sounded paranoiac, looked like a maniac. Is that what happens when dealing with Jaehyun, will you end up like this ? Surely, he was the reason why the old university student turned this way, that’s what the rumors say.

“Leave !”, he shouts and, if anyone’s in the second apartment, you’re sure they can hear.

“But, Eric, I just wan-.”, you try, desperate.

Curiosity killed the cat.

“Right now !”

Curiosity killed the cat.

“You vazey, you’re an absolute idiot.”

Unlike last night, you don’t think twice before opening the door to your dorm, almost slamming the iron knob right on your thin wall. Just like you thought, Jaehyun barks at you the moment the door’s closed, barely waiting for the lock to click. He knows, he knows you tried to get answers from Eric, there’s no denying it.

“You were there.”, it’s a statement more than a question, one you throw at the same time you do your bag, sliding on the floor before it abruptly stops when it hits your mirror. If that’s even possible, the entity gets closer to the border between his world and your own, gritted teeth has him speaking lowly. “I told you, forever in the nearest mirror.” A dark promise, one you now understand the meaning of. He’s linked to you, whether you want ot admit it or not, it has your body covered in goosebumps.

“You shouldn’t have gone there.”, he continues, sighing heavily through his nose. Clearly, he didn’t think you would visit the old college student, let alone try to question him and tell him about your experience. “He’s mad, he’s dangerous.”, the entity continues. And that’s what does it for you. Abruptly turning towards the mirror, it’s like you quickly forget about the power he holds.

Anger bubbles up in your chest, it pushes words out of your mouth, “You’re the one who drove him mad !”

If you fear the entity, you do not show it. Heart pounding, palms sweaty, you keep a straight face. You’re ready for anything and everything. He might scream, make your room even colder, use his powers but, you don’t expect his reaction. He laughs, he laughs almost maniacally. So close to the mirror, the entity shoves his hands in his pockets, leaning closer until you think he might come out.

Jaehyun could’ve said many things at this moment, he could’ve said the truth. But, unbeknownst to you, his feelings take over. He’s a creature of anger, pitiness, even.

“He knew the deal.”, he spits out. Voice going deeper, you fear it might turn inhuman.

“And so, you decided to drive him mad ? He looks miserable.”, you bark back. You’re too far gone to stop yourself right now. The pounding of your heart rings in your ears, it clouds your brain and has you repeating the same sentence again and again but, you never voice it. Would he do the same to you ?

“I could’ve done much, much worse, doll.” It’s a whisper, like a promise of things he might just do to you if you keep acting in such a way. The nickname doesn’t have anything sweet in it, it’s harsh, a slap in the face. Swallowing harshly, you keep your eyes on the entity, faking a lack of expression, a lack of fear. Clearly, he likes it, a small smirk tugging at his lips but nothing shines in his eyes. If you thought he was normal the night before, if you pitied him hours ago, it’s quite hard now that he looks even more twisted than Eric.

“And what, exactly ?”, you dare to ask, keeping your voice firm. Jaehyun’s smile only turns wider, head leans to the side. A few locks of his hair fall in front of his piercing eyes, he judges your reactions.

“Come closer.”, he starts, keeping his voice quiet. “And I’ll tell you.”, the entity gets right back at you, daring light in his eyes. You know, you know he can reach out at a certain point but you take a step closer anyways. Your heart starts pumping faster, threatening to burst out of your ribcage, it creates white noise, blurs your eyes, restricts your air ways.

“She’s a daring one.”, Jaehyun notes, twisted smirk. He’s close, so close. You’ve never been this close to him, ever. If he was out, you would’ve been able to feel the air he blows out on the bridge of your nose, if he wasn’t an entity, you’d be able to see the colorful particle in his eyes. His tongue rests on his pointy canine, lightly traveling to his lip.

“I saw it, the pity in your eyes.”, he starts, a sort of anger in his voice but, you do not flinch. Keeping your eyes on his, you blink slowly, trying to calm your cardiac rhythm, breaking slowly through your nose. “Do you think I’m all alone, here ?”, Jaehyun asks. But, he does not even need an answer. By the way your eyebrows furrow for a second, he understands you never thought about it.

“Ah, stupid fucking kid.”, he growls lowly, you stay silent. “Do you remember the prince I told you about ?” This time, you simply nod, remember when the young looking man told you that he didn’t even stay on the throne for too long. Jaehyun laughs again, the sound lightly resonating in your room, coming out of the different mirrors you own. “He’s trapped with me, here. I’m not alone.”, Jaehyun explains and, the light that flashs in his eyes tells you that he isn’t lying. Yet, you question it. Mouth agape, eyebrows furrow, the attempt you made to calm your heart fails. “That can’t be.”

“You seem to underestimate my powers, doll.”, and finally, like he’s letting you breathe a bit more, he leans back. He giggles there, both his hands behind his head as he lets his torso fall backwards. You’re not even able to form a proper sentence in your mind and, when he senses the lack of words, the entity continues, unbothered by the reality of his actions. People wouldn’t willingly go in the mirror, if that was even possible, right ?

“I know what you’re thinking. Ah- it’s so easy to read you, darling. Is it possible for a human to join me ?”, he voices your question without you having to. “You can but, only for a few minutes. If you don’t leave quickly enough, you’re trapped here.” It’s the realisation crashing over you that makes you take a step back. Finally, when your brain goes on high alert, when your body tenses and your senses heighten at the risk, you find your words again. “No one would willingly do that.”, you blur out, trying to find a loophole somewhere. Surely, he’s bluffing, trying to scare you, right ?

“Doll, you seem to forget that I have a wish too.”, his words have you dizzy but, your body isn’t able to back away again, forced to stay close enough, too close. “It’s simple, really. I wish for a dance and, they have to. When the dance’s over, they rarely have time to run back to their little, real world.” The brunette chuckles again, deep, gravy, bone chilling.

“You don’t believe me ?”, Jaehyun continues, faking being hurt. He leans forward again, captivating you with his deep eyes. “Do you want to see them all ?”, he asks, lips in a wide smile. He could very much do this to you too, would he ? You shake your head from left to right quickly, fear clear in your eyes, he traps people. God only knows how many. You think you might choke on a cry right then, you don’t think you’ve ever been so scared in your life. Trapped, he seems to do it without a second thought, without an ounce of regret. What did you get yourself into ?

“Good. Good girl.”, he cooes. “Know your place.”

For a second time, his face’s too close to you. Having you so close probably gives him more energy and, as the seconds pass, you think you might pass out on the floor. You even think he might lean out of the mirror, like he said he could but, before you can open your mouth again, say anything that could help your case, he beats you at it. “Didn’t they tell you to be careful ? Curiosity killed the cat.” and just like that, he disappears again, you fall into your knees.

In the middle of your first year in university, you found out you didn’t really like frat parties. But see, if they can give you a reason to avoid your dorm, you’ll take anything. Anything, really.

Loud music blasted through the house, a crowd of people you barely know, you don’t even think you ever saw this place without the party, multicolor lights. You also think you already wore this dress for another one of their parties, earlier on your first year but, you didn’t really think twice about your clothes today. You’ve been here for an hour at best and, the only thing you did was drink a bunch of water, checking your phone every now and then. Unfortunately, none of your friends were able to make it and, a good part didn’t want to come as they weren’t even invited.

Leaving you all alone in a party full of popular people you never ever spoke to before. You didn’t really blame them. But anyways, wasn’t that what you wanted, popularity ? This is part of it, right ? Fuck, how can you hate something you wished for ? How can you hate it so, so much. Maybe you should leave ? You don’t even like the music they’re playing or the drinks they’re mixing together. You even thought about paying for a hotel but, you know Jaehyun wouldn’t have any difficulty finding you again, he’s attached to you.

Maybe you should take all your mirrors out, just like Eric did but again, you still have a wish. He still has one, you can’t see yourself leaving in fear for the rest of your life. Dodging every mirror, acting like a maniac. It’s when you’re in deep thought, leaning against the kitchen counter that Johnny decides to join you.

“Hey, Y/N ! You made it !”, the tallest has to speak loudly over the music, holding a red cup in his hand. His everlasting smile on his face, he managed to get a tired one out of you. “Yeah…”, you start, taking a sip of your drink, it surely didn’t help your dry throat. You’re not even having fun here, you look like you’re waiting for someone who’s never going to come. “I didn’t even know Taeyong knew me. I was a bit surprised when he invited me.”, you blur out, trying your best to make a conversation.

“Actually, he told me he saw you a few times and thought you were cute.”, your friend says, a cheeky smile on his lips. The confession has heat burning your cheeks for a moment, lips parted. Taeyong ? The Lee Taeyong ? You think your friend’s pulling a prank on you but you know him enough, Johnny wouldn’t be the type to do that.

“I-. Wait, really ?”, you ask, dumbfounded. It’s the effect of your wish, you know it but, you clearly weren’t prepared for that. Do people like you now...Because of this ? Without knowing you, without ever talking to you ?

“Yeah, really ! You should go talk to him.”, you’ve known Johnny to be kind of the Cupid of his friend group and, he takes the role quite well. Pointing at a corner, you can distinguish one of their couches, occupied by Johnny’s friend group. Before you even know it, a gentle hand’s on your shoulder, helping you through the crowd, sweaty bodies dancing mindlessly, such a cliché.

You can’t even find a way to escape. Finally, you’re right in front of the said group. Boys and girls, all sat on the couch, some on the others, you would want to sit on someone in such heat. Some girls are hanging out with them too, flashing you a nice smile as you awkwardly stand next to Johnny, like a lost puppy.

“Look who I found !”, Johnny happily shouts, catching everyone’s attention. Then, you decide you hate it, too many eyes on you. A girl you don’t even know the name of sits straight and waves, “Y/N ! It’s nice to see you, it’s been so long !” Do you know her ? Her face’s vaguely familiar but at best, you might have seen her during a first year party. You hate it, entirely. All you can do is nod slowly as you feel your heart pics up, your palms grow sweaty. Taeyong’s in the middle, legs spread on the couch, he has one of his friends moving from his seat to give you some space. “Here, sit !”, he invites with a warm smile.

What can you do ? You obey, sitting down next to the young man. You need to sit down anyways, feeling the heat crash over your body, it makes your head light, your mouth dry. You sit in fear you’ll pass out. You can almost feel the energy being drained out of you. Maybe popularity isn’t for you. The music seems to fade away, just as your heart pumps in your ears again. It rings, something familiar now. Has the room always been this size ?

“Y/N ? What game do you prefer ?”, from the tone Johnny has, it’s probably the second time he’s asking you this and, before you can even find another solution or, the strength to socialise, you get up. He flashes you a look, Taeyong a curious one you can’t really see as he’s behind you.

“Can you please hold my drink, I need to go to the bathroom.”, you blur out.

“Oh, sure !”, always the nice one. Poor Johnny, you almost shove your glass in his hand, slashing some water on his fingers as he covers the opening. “First door on your right when you take these stairs.”, he says.

If you could, you would’ve ran to the bathroom. Your steps are stopped when you cut right through the dancing crowd, using your elbows to make your way. It’s crazy, how big their living room is and still, you manage to feel strapped, like the walls keep moving away from you, making it impossible to reach the stairs, the escape. You think someone drops a bit of their drink on your dress but you don’t really care at the moment, walking with quick steps when finally, you’re out of the circle.

Running up the stairs, your hand lands on the wet patch the unknown drink left at your side, nice.You don’t know what it is, it sticks to your fingers, probably sugary. Finally, the music seems to fade naturally when you reach the first floor, pushing the door of the bathroom without a second thought. As said, you’ve been to parties before, you know bathroom can be...unlocked and busy. Thankfully, no one’s there and you’re able to lock yourself in the bathroom, completely sheltering yourself.

Turning the light on, you quickly find the sink, hands gripping the border before you lean forward a bit, opening the faucet.

“Popularity isn’t for me.”, you tell yourself, eyes set on your reflection. Forehead sweaty, your makeup isn’t as good as it was when you left your dorm. Even, is it your reflection ? It seems you can’t even find a safe place anymore. You can’t help the tears that gather in your eyes, small transparent pearls threatening to fall at any moment, you can’t even trust your own reflection. Something grips at your throat, makes it hard to breathe and all you can do is let your head fall down, trying to calm yourself by running your hands under the cold water.

You can’t even go back to your dorm, not wanting to see Jaehyun. It’s a mixture of fear and something else you can’t really identify, something that makes you regret acting in such a way. It’s crazy, how you almost thought things were going well for an actual entity you summoned. You guess you let things go to your head, forgetting the supernatural aspect of it all. You don’t think it has ever been so hard to see a future for yourself, so hard to find a solution to a problem, you feel stuck.

Between the four walls of a foreign bathroom, you finally let a sob tumble from your lips. You unsuccessfully try and muffle it against your wet palm but, it all makes it too hard to breathe. Harshly turning the faucet off, you desperately try to find a rhythm.

“Hey, kid.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Taking a step back from the sink, you don’t even look up. A voice you know too well by now but, this time is doesn’t sound as harsh. Did he really have to appear so suddenly ? He didn’t help your breathing and you make that known when you glare up at the entity.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”, Jaehyun says. There’s something soft in his voice, something you surely are not used to. The mirror is much smaller here, you can only see from his upper body and has you focused on his face. Again, he’s good at hiding his emotions, cold face contracting with the tone in his voice.

“It’s okay.”, you finally breathe out, not wanting to fight or scream right at this moment. You don’t think you have the energy for, at least.

“Popularity really isn’t for you.”, he laughs and for once, it’s meant for you to laugh too. There’s a tired sigh tumbling from your lips, far from a laugh.

“What are you doing here ?”, you ask, though the answer is obvious.

“I told you, forever in the nearest mirror.”, he repeats and unlike yesterday, it doesn’t sound like a threat, more like a silent promise that he’ll watch over you. “Come closer.”

And you do, a lot less fearful. Separated by the sink, you stand at its edge.

“Don’t freak out, doll.”, the entity warns and, before you can even ask him why, he leans out. He leans out of the mirror. Though you don’t freak out, like he asked you, it still takes you by surprise. Mouth agape, the way he effortlessly lets his upper body detach from the mirror is hypnotising. He almost looks human, if it isn’t for his glass skin. The light of the bathroom reflects on the highest point of his cheek, you’d have to look a few minutes to understand if his skin’s pale or if he’s slightly translucide. Faded beauty marks and light freckles, you’d almost be able to count them.

“There, good.”, he coes softly when you blink slowly. Jaehyun looks so normal, like you’d be able to pick a fallen eyelash on his skin. From here, you can detail his glossy hands, the grey tint at the tip of his fingers and before you can search for any trace of veins on his arms, he cups your cheeks.

Skin cold, his hands a light touch like he isn’t sure if he should be touching you. The change in heat has you flinching for a second before relaxing, welcoming the cold trail his thumbs let under your tired eyes.

“Breathe with me, I don’t want to see you having a panic attack.”, he explains. And, you do. Soft breath falls at the bridge of your nose, drying the small drops of water the faucet left on your skin. Through his nose, out his mouth, the entity takes the time and waits for you to match his rhythm.

Jaehyun, Yoonoh, the entity you summoned is helping you calm down in the middle of a party you hate, that’s the thought you have to push away before finally, feeling yourself getting back to normal. Your heart regains somewhat of a normal rhythm, it stops ringing in your ears and most importantly, nothing restraints your throat. Then, you look up at the entity, big brown eyes checking up on your features, only then do you notice the small dots of gold near his pupil.

You back away.

Taking a step back, you detach your eyes from his own, he looks more alive out of his mirror and you’re not sure you want him so close. Or maybe, it’s the fact you do want him a bit closer that scares you. After all, he managed to calm you down easily, he’d almost pass as a normal student.

“Thank you.”, you manage to let out after swallowing down. After a small nod, he lets his body get swallowed back into the mirror. It’s crazy, how his appearance changes the slightest bit, enough that he loses the human like je ne sais quoi that made him familiar, friendlier almost.

“It’s alright, doll. I’ve had my fair share of people to calm down but usually, it’s during our first meeting.”, he jokes a bit, regaining his attitude when he’s sure you’re alright.

There’s a silence, a moment when you let the music come to your eyes, the setting sinks in your brain again. Johnny and his friends are probably waiting for you, you don’t even know how long you’ve been there. On the other side, Jaehyun takes a look at the bathroom you locked yourself in, sighing a bit at the music loudly blasting, making the walls vibrate every now and then. You now know how quick Jaehyun is to speak and, for the first time, you catch him, speaking at the same time.

“I should go home.”

“You should go home.”

“Nice shirt.”

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun. You need to stop doing that.”, jumping to the side, you almost drop the towel you were using to dry the wet ends of your hair.

Minutes after Jaehyun left the bathroom, you did the same. The party wasn’t an interesting one to you and so, you faked being sick to Johnny and his friends. Needless to say, many were disappointed for a reason you couldn’t really understand. At least, Johnny insisted on driving you to your dorm and soon enough, you found your safe space again.

Strangely, Jaehyun didn’t make his presence known when you entered the room, you were almost used to having him waiting with a sarcastic sentence at the tip of his tongue. Nevertheless, you hung a towel on the mirror of your bathroom and took a quick shower, slipping into freshly washed pyjamas so quickly you almost fell down.

Apparently, the young man decided to appear right when you stepped out of your bathroom, almost knocking your knee against some furniture. Easing yourself on your bed, you let your body at the edge, right in front of your mirror.

“But you always look like a cute deer caught in headlights. That’s the saying, right ?”, he asks, sitting down in front of you. You nod a bit, a slight smile on your face. “Thank you again, for earlier.”, setting the towel aside, you let your legs dangle. You should probably try and sleep but, it seems Jaehyun isn’t thinking about leaving right now. The entity doesn’t answer, simply nodding, almost not wanting to address the gesture. “I thought you left.”, you tell him, being truthful for the first time.

“I was just mad.”, Jaehyun almost says, he almost voices his own emotions but decides against it.

“You shouldn’t have gone to his house.”, he says again. But, unlike yesterday, he doesn’t sound as mad, as angry. You sigh anyways, he sounds like a parent scowling you, but you guess he’d be too old for that. But somehow, you know he isn’t really wrong. Eric didn’t even speak to you, nothing good came of it. Rather than voicing your opinion, you let your eyes travel to the side, avoiding the man’s gaze.

“He’s dangerous.”, he starts, playing with his rings again. If you were in his head, you’d be able to witness the dilemma he’s facing. However, Jaehyun picks rather quickly. “Do you remember what I told you ? What people wish for the most ?”, he asks. It’s funny, Jaehyun always sounds like he’s questioning you, making sure you listen to him. “Love.”, you easily answer, attention picked.

“That was Eric’s second wish. But as I told you, it’s never true love, its a fake emotions, I can’t- I can not force such a powerful feeling onto someone. It always ends up badly. When Eric’s “dream girl” - like he called her - didn’t love him like he wanted her to, he got mad.” By now, you know Jaehyun’s behaviour quite well. When he didn’t show much emotion while telling you the story of this unknown prince, the entity looks uncomfortable enough when thinking about Eric. Eyebrows raised, there’s a shiver that runs down your spine. The young man didn’t even say it and yet, you already know where it is going.

“He tried to kill her one night.”, he starts. For an entity who saw, experienced so much, you think it’s how fresh it all is that has him showing so much emotion. Someone capable of murder, that’s who you visited without a second thought. The behavior, it all started to make sense. Your mouth hangs open for a moment before you find your words again. “Is she- Is she alright ?”, you ask first.

“She was, I do not know her whereabouts as of today.”, he continues, letting one of his rings roll between his fingers. “I couldn’t let him do it. I used my wish to teach him a lesson, showed him things that went straight through his thick skin. He managed to escape in time but he left me with his.”, before you can ask, the entity lifts his right sleeve a bit more. On his arm, the young man has a wound. Almost unrealistic, the cut doesn’t have a trace of blood but it seems forever frozen in this state, never healing. “Said I’d make him pay and that was enough to install fear, forever.”

The paranoia, the look in his eyes at Jaehyun’s name, everything added up. You almost feel like throwing up, you knew humanity had its vermin but never, never did you think they’d be so...close. You never thought you’d see the entity with morals. You’re glad he explained the reasons behind his actions, behind his behaviour.

“I didn’t- I didn’t know you would get hurt.”, you tell him, almost whispering.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”, the entity simply replies. He isn’t wrong, reminding you of centuries he had before meeting you. You don’t even know his full name, or his story.

“Then tell me about yourself.”, you blur out, not thinking twice. For the first time, Jaehyun is taken back, blank expression on his face. The entity takes a few seconds to process your words and you continue, taking over the conversation for the first time. “Do you ever tell your story ?” He probably never does, you wonder if it’s even a question to ask. Maybe too dark, too painful, you wonder for a second if the question won’t make him mad.

Finally, when the young man regains his attitude, he raises his eyebrows for a second, “People never ask me for it. I told you, humans are greedy creatures. They use me for their two wishes and try to forget about me.” There’s something sad in his words. Now, you understand. He probably feels used, has to do people’s dirty work, grant without a word to say. Somehow, it manages to tighten your heart. Sure, a side of your brain reminds you of the entity he truly is but, another one can not help but feel sad, sad for the life he isn’t even leaving. “Tell me, I want to know.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jaehyun might feel the smallest spark of happiness. To be cared for. You’re probably asking out of politeness but god, does it feel nice to have someone asking you about your story. “Are you sure ?”, he asks anyways, fainting some arrogance, some detachment while he still can.

“I was a human once, cursed.”, the entity starts, almost nonchalant. Eyebrows raised, you can’t help the slight gasp that tumbles from your lips. “Cursed ?” Scooting closer to the edge, the fear of being close to him slowly disappears.

He nods a bit, before fully getting into his story, one he never really talked about to anyone else, now that he thinks about it. “Was born a long time ago, there’s nothing interesting about my life, really.”, like he’s recalling some old, old memories, he looks up for a moment, eyebrows slightly furrowed. You don’t ask when he was born, letting him continue without stopping him. “We’d get married quite young at that time.”, he notes.

“I was 23 and had a few choices but there was this girl.”, Jaehyun continues and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this, slight smile on his face, it’s clear he’s remembering fond memories. “Pretty brunette, her name was Haseul. We were in love.” Love, something you for a moment thought the entity wasn’t capable of. Something flashes in his eyes, regret, probably. “We were supposed to get married but not everyone was happy with it. From the choices I had, there was this young lady, her name was Agnes.”, the young man says her name with venom on his tongue, you can now only imagine what she did.

“Agnes was supposedly madly in love with me and, when she found out me and Haseul were already talking about marriage, she did this.”, it’s like even after centuries, he isn’t quite able to put words on it. A deep sigh, the entity needs some seconds to find his words, leaning back on his hands. “It was rumored that she was a witch, I never really believed it.” Can you blame him ? You didn’t believe in him either, only days ago. Hands on the border of your bed, you lean a bit closer, captivated by the story. “What did she do ?”

“I don’t really know how but, she used black magic to curse me here. Forever stuck, if she couldn’t have me, no one could.”, he says, almost nonchalant. He probably accepted his faith long ago but for you, who just listened to his story, you have something tightening around your neck. “He was a human too, once. Loved by the wrong person, punished for loving and giving himself to someone else. He ended up stuck for it, a faith you’d never wish upon anyone, not now that you know all the things he saw and experienced. Jaehyun didn’t even deserve it, you think it’s what saddens you the most.”

“Kid, are you alright ?”, Jaehyun asks, his head to the side. Fuck, you didn’t even have a second to hide the water building up at the corner of your eyes. Quickly using your shirt to dab the droplet away, you shake your head.

“Y-Yeah. It’s just...I didn’t know you were human before.”, you start and, he laughs a bit. He tells you he’s used to it, many misjudged him as a demon. “You didn’t deserve this.”, you mumble, feeling the lump in your throat grow as you force yourself to keep a straight face. It’s probably the lack of sleep and the recent events that have you on your nerves.

“And, can’t you wish to get out ?”, you ask. Somehow, god knows why, your brain tries to find a solution, probably the humanity in you speaking up. “Can’t I wish for you to get out.” This seems to make the young man laugh, few locks falling in front of his eyes, he has to use his hand to push them back. “Ah, doll. You’re cute. Would you ever do that ?”, he asks, laughing. You don’t answer, would you ? Conflicted and yet, something tells you that you would. You would, because you’re a good person, right ? You wouldn’t want someone stuck in such a way, you wouldn’t let someone innocent suffer if you could get them out. Is Jaehyun innocent ? All the things he did, he had to. But again, he did trap people with him, didn’t he ? Two sides fight, relentless in your brain but somehow, the way he’s looking at you with malice, like he already knows you won’t do it has you nodding.

You nod and, it has the power to make the entity’s eyebrows raise a bit, a slight smile on his rosy lips. “It’s not how it works.”, he finally says.

“Is there a way to get out ?”, you’re too curious. If there was a way to get him out, would you do it ? You push the thought away, not wanting to question your morals, not right now. Probably sensing the conflict you’re going through, Jaehyun shrugs. “There is, but you don’t need to know.” At this point, the young man knows what he’s doing. He pokes your curiosity, makes you want and need to know more. Obviously, it works. “Tell me !”

“It’s a ritual. It’s a bit gruesome, I don’t think you want to hear it now, darling. Requires someone’s blood, someone who truly loves me. See, the witch thought no one would ever love me as much as she did.”, Jaehyun explains, detailing your reactions at his words. Something twists at your stomach, blood ? An old ritual, you can’t even begin to think about all the things necessary. Someone who truly loves him, a big requirement when people summon him only to use him, never getting to know the entity. Again, can you really blame them ?

“See, nothing really interesting.”, Jaehyun concludes, “But you, darling. Tell me about yourself.”

Monday night.

Days trying to function with little to no sleep, days with little to no privacy. You think it’s what you miss the most, privacy. Sure, you could put a towel up on your mirror whenever you took a shower but see, you couldn’t take long showers, longs baths. You always feared Jaehyun would appear out of nowhere, manage to get the towel out and then, then what ? And yes, Jaehyun never did that before, only time he truly appeared without you being prepared for it was last night, during the party but, it was for a good cause. Right now, laying in your bed, sheet almost entirely covering your face, it’s another time of privacy you’re longing for. See, you don’t remember the last time you touched yourself. Alright, maybe that’s a hyperbola, you do remember but it seems so, so far away. Few hours of sleep and so many events you can’t even talk about to your friends have you feeling almost jetlagged, having to check your phone for the hour and day.

Staring at your ceiling, a deep sigh leaves your lips. You can’t sleep, you can not sleep at all and you have a trip to your home town tomorrow, things to do that require all your brain power. Your brain and body won’t fall into Morpheus’ arms and, you know exactly why. You need it, you need an orgasm so, so bad. It had been on your mind for a while now, it had been clouding your mind for hours now, actually. Hanging out with your friend today did help quite a bit, helping your brain think about anything else. But now, alone in the the middle of your bed, you can’t deny. Your body doesn’t lie to you, the way you have to close your thighs, the way your hands dangerously move inch by inch towards the center of the problem. Your mind does not lie to you either, foggy images, too clear and loud thoughts.

Yes, you could give in, let your body and mind have what it graves. But, another problem’s right in front of you. The mirror Jaehyun would usually occupy. Fuck, he never announces himself, he never tell you when he’s coming. What if he just...Pops up again ? However, you found a loophole. If your phone doesn’t work when Jaehyun is here, in your mirror, whether you see him or not, the object starts working again when he fully leaves. God knows where he goes, who’s mirror he haunts but at the very least, you know when he isn’t there, right ? God, you know it’d put you to sleep. Picking your phone up, it’s clear the device’s working exactly like it should. You could be quick with it, right ? Two in the morning, you don’t see why Jaehyun would come back now, you really don’t.

And, fuck it. The pale moonlight freely enters your bedroom, helping you distinguish the furniture in your dorm, letting you keep an eye on your mirror just in case. Ditching your heavy blanket to the side, you let the cold air brush over your naked legs. You managed to get out of your pants a bit earlier, struggling with the heat under your sheets. Your right hand softly lands on your closed core, immediately making your leg raise. Planting your foot on your mattress.

Your index slowly traces your lips, over the already wet fabric. God, it’s been so long and you’re already wet. You barely needed to find a memory to get off to for that. The tip of your finger easily finds your bud of nerves, lightly pressing. The small gesture has you gasping softly, keeping your voice low enough.

Enough of teasing yourself, you do not think you have time for this, nor the patience. Pushing your panties aside, you ease a finger between your lips. Finally, some friction. It is not long until you add a second finger to the mix, using a rhythm you know would get you off quickly. Biting down on your lower lip, you have to breathe through your nose, out your mouth to keep your whines quiet enough. Strangely enough, you find yourself thinking back to Jaehyun’s breathing, how his cold hands cupped your face so gently.

In and out, you let a mewl out, unable to muffle it. His cold, ring hugged fingers, wouldn’t they feel so, so nice on your burning skin ?

Oh, what are you even thinking about ? You should not, you can’t. Find something else to think about, another boy to hold your fantasies. It shouldn’t be so hard, right ? It’s almost pathetic, how your mind manages to go through a list of boys you know or once you and yet, the one that has been shaking your life up keeps numbing your mind.

Don’t give in to your thoughts, a side of your brain yells at you.

But there's nothing wrong in this, is it ? A little secret to keep to yourself, just like you’re keeping Jaehyun a secret from everyone.

Fuck, you can’t find your clouded mind at this very moment, you almost give it, let your fingers move faster with a picture pecfect imagine of glossy fingers, shamlesly, a name you never thought you’d moan tumbles from your lips. If only, if only you’d notice the weak flashing of your phone’s screen, the drained battery on the black screen for a few seconds before it went dead. If only you’d notice.

“Well. What do we have here ?”, you almost jump out of your skin, you almost have a heart attack right here. You knew it, you knew you shouldn’t have done it. In a quick motion, you try and grab onto your sheet but, Jaehyun’s voice stops you. Frim, it’s an order he gives you. “Oh no, don’t try and hide yourself now.”

Fingers naturally slowing down, you can’t help the pathetic whisper that leaves from your mouth when you lose the so needed friction. Even if the young man tells you not to hide, you have to close your legs again. You think you’d be mortified, completely frozen but, it’s pure frustration that crashes over you. “God, Jaehyun ! Can’t you warm before ?”, you groaned, your left hand on your forehead. Your right hand, on the other side, grips the thin sheet under your body. You’re probably staining but, you clearly don’t care right now. There’s a low chuckle from the entity, he doesn’t even seem fazed at all. Taking a final step closer to the mirror, something flashes in his eyes. “You’re the one who called me.”, he points out. His own fingers gaze over his jawline and you almost slap yourself, you shouldn’t have such thoughts. But they do look so, so inviting. Did you call him ? Oh, you did, without even realising.

“I heard you.”, he hums, arrogant. He seems so, so amused by the situation. Pearly white teeth bite down on his lower lip for the faintest of second, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ah, I thought you were calling me because you were in danger, doll. But here you are, touching yourself and moaning my name ? What a dirty, naughty little slut.”, the nickname rolls out his tongue too easily, it strikes right, numb your brain even more.

There’s no point in denying it but, somehow, you try and act like his words aren’t affecting you at this very moment, like he does have your thighs closing, core aching. “Don’t call me that.”, you try, breathless. Only then do you notice the change, the sudden heat in your bedroom. A smirk grows on his rosy lips, “Why ? You clearly like it.”

“Go away.”, you try, half believing it.

“You don’t want me to. Why leave when you were moaning my name ?”, he barks right back. Clearly, the back and forth amuses him, it fires him up, he loves when they put up a fight, even already lost. You stay silent for a moment, unable to find words, a sentence that could make sense. “Come on, doll. Show me.”

That voice, you don’t know if you heard it before. Sultry, soft, it feels like velvet. Smooth, inviting, he has you hypnosed and, before you know it, your legs fall open. Heart pumping rapidly in your chest, its excitement that pumps into your vein but, you don’t want to admit it yet.

Oh, the joy and cockiness that flashes in the brunette’s eyes. You think it’s the growl he lets out that takes your breath away, legs trembling. “Come closer, darling. Let me see you.” And you do. Just like last night, you scoot closer until your legs are dangling from your bed. It’s lust speaking, lust acting on your numbed, dizzy mind when your thighs spread open for him to see.

“Pretty.”, he notes and, before you think about doubting your actions, ask him what the two of you are doing at this very moment, he continues. “Show me what you were doing.”

Under his eyes, your right hand finds your drenched core again, hooking the fabric of your underwear to the side, you easily let your two fingers part your core before slipping them in. There’s no point in hiding your moans anymore, soft whispers tumbling from your lips.

“God, you’re so wet.”, he notes. “Faster, fuck yourself faster.”, Jaehyun orders lowly. Captivated by his voice, you do, fingers moving at a rapid pace. It feels too good, surreal, almost.

“Jaehyun, what are we-.”, you start, though it turns in a moan.

“Sht, shut up. ‘m trying to make you feel good, yeah ? Isn’t that what you wanted ?”, it is, you think to yourself. The side of your brain, desperately trying to fight against it finally lets go, gives in into the pleasure. “There you go.”, he hums happily once your head hangs backwards. “Tell me, what are you thinking about ?”

The words get caught in your throat. Eyes heavy, you need a few seconds before being able to speak up again. “Your fingers.”, you admit, any ounce of shame finally leaving your body. It accepts the pleasure Jaehyun is guiding you towards. “Slow down.”, he instructs and, you do so, a small pout on your lips.

“Look at that. Who thought you’d beg me to let you cum some days ago ? Weren’t you the one who pulled a knife on me ?”, he coes. He isn’t wrong, you whine softly at the slow rhythm you now have to keep up with.

“Jaehyun, please.”, you whine out. Tired, sensitive, you’re on the bridge, only waiting for him to let you fall.

“Please, what ?”, what he does next almost has you moaning. Leaning out of the mirror, his skin goes glossy again, just like in the frat house’s bathroom. Shining under the moonlight, his upper body’s so close. The same human like je ne sais quoi, one that has you leaning closer, closer to him. The coldest of his fingers, what you were thinking about seconds ago, you feel them again. In the dead of the night, skin burning, the entity places his hand right around your neck. He isn’t even pressing and yet, he manages to get your breathing uneven. “Please what, doll ?”, he asks again, almost archly. “Please, let me come, please.”, you beg, throwing any shame and dignity out of your opened window. Clearly appeased and glad by your words, the brunette lets his fingers press harder, harder. Cutting your airways, he tilts your head up, enough that you feel obligated to look at him. “Come on, make yourself cum.”

Face close, he’s millimeters away, lips brushing against yours but never does he kiss you. Keeping his right hand around your throat, his left hand guides your fingers, helping you, guiding you. “Pretty little thing.”, he coes the moment he feels you twitching. Pretty brown eyes set on you, he details, drinks in any one of your expressions. Under his gaze, you take minutes to hit it. Your orgasm is an intense one, crashes over your body, Jaehyun has to let you breathe.

“There you go.”, voice soft, it sounds far, far away. You take minutes to come down, minutes for your mind to clear again. “Sht, it’s alright.”, you can hear the smirk in his voice and, before you can point it out, sleep knocks you out.

Realization, it’s realization that crashes over you the next morning. Or rather, the next afternoon. It’s around one in the afternoon when you wake up, sunlight freely entering in your room. Birds, voices, cars, the city’s wide awake and shakes you up. Truthfully, you’d rather not wake up today.

Your gaze falls on your phone, battery intact and on, the multiple texts you have from your family makes you understand. You missed your train, great. Even better, you remember last night. Is it regret ? Rather something else you don’t understand. You don’t really regret what happened, rather fear what will happen next. Jaehyun isn’t human, not anymore at least. Stuck in a mirror, he’s bound to leave at some point. He’s an entity, doesn’t that clash with your morals ?

Your brain goes miles an hour and you aren’t even able to stop it. Maybe, maybe a shower could help ? You need to get ready anyways. Family’s waiting, worried for you and here you are, stomach empty hanging a towel on the mirror of your bathroom.

What the fuck did you do ? That’s the question that keeps turning again and again in your head. But, it didn’t hurt anyone, right ? God, the grey area you’re in has you in a headache in minutes. Do you want him to leave, or not ? It’s a hard question, one you can’t answer, even at the end of your shower. Shouldn’t you want him to leave ? Isn’t he supposed to be a scary legend ? That’s the problem. He isn’t so scary, he isn’t so mean and cold. But again, he’s an entity.

Tumbling in your bedroom, your hand runs in your hair out of pure frustration, passing back and forth in the hallway that connects your bed and bathroom, where Jaehyun cannot see you. It’s funny, you look like him now. Are you becoming like him ? Or worse, like Eric ? You don’t even have a wish right now. It’s then that you do what you’re best, or worse at doing, You act on impulse.

Walking right in front of your mirror, you take a deep breath. You think the sweat gathering at your hairline’s going to ruin your makeup, the outfit you chose to wear isn’t appropriate for the weather. Anyways, you try your best a firm voice and call, “Jaehyun.”

On cue, he appears. Slight smirk on his face, he looks too pleased, probably because of last night’s event. Is it a smirk or, a genuine smile ? That, you can’t really tell. The brunette told you, you were easy to read and before you can understand his emotions, he understands your own. His smile fades into something more serious, catching up. Something’s wrong.

“Yes ?”, he asks, almost carefully. He never saw you like this, there’s a spark in your eyes he isn’t able to understand. Confusion, regret, fear, frustration ?

“I have my last wish.”, you tell him. Your heart’s heavy, for some reason. You shouldn’t be really, you think you found a solution to your problem, didn’t you ? “I want everything to go back to normal. Take back my popularity.”, you tell him in one go, once you have the courage to.

For a second, you see amusement flashing in his eyes, like he’s about to make fun of your wish. Actually, he was about to, question you before he catches on. He catches on way too quickly. Amusement quickly turns to...Disappointment, anger. His eyes quickly travel from your eyes to a point in your room you can’t see, back to your eyes. Features twisted, his breathing slightly changes, so does the temperature in the room.

“I know what you’re trying to do.”, it’s a growl, a dip in his tone that mimics the shift in the temperature, suddenly getting colder.

The limp in your throat doesn’t help, cold sweat probably ruins your makeup as you try your best to keep your composure.

“Jaehyun, it’s-”, you try, almost turning desperate. Your words get caught when he takes a step closer, you know he can and might lean out but he doesn’t do it, yet.

“You’re trying trying to get rid of me.”, it’s laced with anger. Anger, venom and disappointment. It’s the lather that has your heart breaking. You’re human after all, it’s only natural that you feel bad about your decision.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you ! It’s just that, after last night…”, you can’t even explain yourself, you’re unable to put words into your feelings.

“I knew it, you’re like everyone else.”, he spits out. His nose crunches up, disgusted. The young man looks down at you, eyebrows furrow, lips twisting. “Using me.”, the words echo in your room, he uses every mirror to let you know.

“Jaehyun, stop.”, you beg. You beg, tears in your eyes. Obviously, he doesn’t. He has it heavy on his chest, he’ll speak even if you don’t hear him.

“Using me to get what you want, only to ditch me. Leave me. Forget about me.”, anger clear in his voice, it’s loud, louder than what a normal man could be. The slight fog around his body grows thicker, darker, almost threatening. Goosebumps on your arms, the shirt you’re wearing doesn’t help how cold you’re feeling.

“I don’t want to forget you !”, you choke between tears, freely letting them fall down your cheeks. “You don’t understand ! You can’t - You can’t stay with me forever.” You hiccup, using your fingers to dry your tears.

Jaehyun doesn’t answer, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down as he blinks slowly. Anger has his jaw tight, chest raising up and down at a steady rhythm.

“I could’ve.”, he argues but it’s clear he half believes it. He couldn’t stay forever by your side, you wouldn’t be able to live your life in such a way. Shooting him a look that says it all, he doesn’t argue, he doesn’t continue. “You said your wish anyways. So be it.”

Unlike last time, it isn’t as happy, isn’t as fierce. It’s abandonment, he has to anyways. The glow behind him changes, shifts.

You can’t feel the changes of your wish right away. Jaehyun stays a cold face, almost refusing to look at you. The breath you didn’t know you were holding gets out in a sigh, your shoulders flopping down.

Silence. Silence for seconds while he looks to the side.

And suddenly, he turns around again, looking right into your eyes. “I have my wish, too.”, he says, coldly.

Before you can even argue, help him find something, offer one yourself, he cuts you off. Letting his hand out of the mirror, he doesn’t even completely lean out.

Looking down at his hand, you already know. You know what he’s going to ask for. “Jaehyun…”, you try, voice small. You don't want to cry again, throat completely cut.

“I want a dance, darling.”, he says, nickname sounding cold. You were expecting this wish, somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d think that maybe, he wouldn’t want to let you go. Nonetheless, it still tightens you heart, makes it pound in your chest.

If you could drop to your knees at this very moment, you would. But your body’s frozen, stuck in place. The plea you whisper isn’t of any use. You’re obligated to, before you even know it, your body’s pushed.

Your hand lands in his, cold skin against your own. Touch gentle, he guides you towards him.

To effortlessly move into another world, it feels like crossing a thin waterfall. You have to close your eyes when Jaehyun gently pulls your body towards the mirror. For a second, you don’t open your eyes, not knowing what to expect. Entire, pitch black room ? Jaehyun’s true appearance ? You don’t know, you can’t even begin to imagine. Your laced hands in the air, Jaehyun’s left hand placed itself in your back, classic position for a slow dance. “Y/N.”, he calls softly, too softly for the wish he just asked for.

You look up.

He looks normal, entirely human. No more glossy skin, you can see every small detail, every long lash, every freckle, deep dimples on each side of his lips. Milky skin, rosy lips. He doesn’t look as mad as he did previously, like having you right next to him managed to appease him. Unable to answer, you only look into his eyes. Even brighter, brown and golden sparks, the light he was lacking before is here, fully. He looks alive. When you don’t answer, a song starts playing, one you quickly recognise. Sway. It sounds far away, like a distant dream, it resonates. Only then, do you have the guts to look around. Jaehyun’s wearing the same clothes, around you, everything looks glossy. Glass walls without an edge, you could make the faintest outline of a castle, golden lights and pretty chandelier. Heavy, the pictures look wavy, like casted upon a distorted mirror. You can’t recognise not make anything else up. But, what takes you back, rips a gasp out of your lips, are the people.

Dozens of people dancing, slowly to the song. They mimic you and Jaehyun’s movements as he guides you, makes you sway, bend under his expert hands. All those people dancing and yet, they all look empty. It’s only when your eyes fall upon a man, dressed in royal uniform that you understand. All these people, he trapped them all with him.

You gasp and, as you’re about to question him, he speaks up. “Darling, look at me.”, he demands.

When you do, he meets you with a soft smile, comprehensive look in his eyes. “I understand, I understand why you did it.”, he starts. Finally, you’re the one to break him off. It’s clear he’s the one guiding your body, you don’t think you have any control over it at this very moment. He makes you dance in his makeshift castle, the only place he can rule over.

“I didn’t know what do to.”, you confess. Do you want to leave him ? No. But the grey area it leaves you in keeps hurting your brain, thorns you apart every second. “My intentions were never to use you.”, you tell him, gulping down as you pass a couple twirling, clearly from different centuries. Jaehyun knows, the words he let out of pure anger, he did not think them one bit. After all, you didn’t even know what to wish for. “I know.”, he calmly says. Face close to yours, you don’t mind the proximity. “Enjoy the moment with me. Please, doll.”

How can you truly enjoy the moment when you’re sure he’s going to trap you at any moment, have you stuck with him forever ? You almost lean into the idea, give in. You know this song well enough, the end is near and all you can do is look up into Jaehyun’s eyes. If he wants you here, you can not fight it. Can you ?

The entity has his eyes closed, forehead against your own. Softly, he whispers out only for you to hear. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for making me feel love again.”, he starts. “But I can not be selfish.” Before you can let something out, his lips softly press against the bone of your cheek and, his hands let you free to move, moments before the end of the song. An arm in front of his, he bows down with a slight smile. It isn’t hard to see the sadness he isn’t hiding. “I guess this is a goodbye. Go, run.”

You have well enough time and, when you understand that, you run, just like he asked. Heart pumping, you run, run towards the small frame where you can see the outline of your bedroom and, before you know it, the same waterfall. The sudden shift has you tumbling down, dropping to your knees.

“Jaehyun !”, you don’t care about your voice right now, you scream loud enough. Down on the fall, facing your mirror, Jaehyun faces you again, squatting down like he loves to do. The same sad smile on his face. Your hand flat on the surface, you hit your mirror like you’re hitting a window. You see it, he’s facing, slowly. Translucid, it’s a question of seconds before he’s entirely gone. Then, when tears fill your eyes, an invisible hand twist your heart, you understand.

Again and again, you tap on the glass.

“I’ll get you out, I promise !”

5K notes · View notes

hrina · 4 years

Text

Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

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#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #spookrry #harry writing #ok here it is 🙃 i lowkey feel like its gonna flop but w/e

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Text

The Diary of Doctor Laszlo Kreizler

Chapter 1

Synopsis: Alienist’s notes are private, sometimes gruesome, secrets of others and of himself.Those pages belongs to secrecy and decadence, have a glimpse to this world made of drafts, notes, accidents and reflections. Or maybe it is you the only person that should ever reach for it.

While you read this imagine Laszlo mostly at the end of his day, scraping the ideas and the thoughts, adjusting previous notes with additions, closing the day behind himself with a couple of sentences while sitting in his evening robe, a good glass of whiskey and his glasses bridged almost at the tip of his nose. Or maybe imagine yourself, you sneaky thing, reach for it from a far shelf.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: listen, this is the set of ideas and confessions of a man living in the 1890’s. Most of them will be outdated, rough, even deprecating in some analysis of the roles of men, women and social status, religion, etc.So be prepared, my point is to make Laszlo reflect upon those topics, but to be as faithful as I can to his time. Mention of death, mutilation, self harm and a minor depiction of a fight. Psychologically troubled young children ahead! Author’s note: I am a nerd for a good Victorian novel and a sexy Alienist.I have always been charmed by Laszlo’s mind and inner conflicts. So I took the chance and tried to have a run into that rollercoaster. The story is placed between season 1 and season 2.

Diary belonging to Dr. Laszlo Kreizler. This is a professional book of annotations over medical treatments of an alienist toward his patients. Do not disclose and send it back to the address if found: Kreizler’s Institute, xxxxxx, New York City (NY) L.K.

Samuel Griswold Goodrich, Illustrated Natural History of the Animal Kingdom (c1859). Contributed for digitization by University Library, University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign.

Schiller in his “Die Weltweisen” wrote: So long as philosophy keeps together the structure of the Universe so long does it maintain the world’s machinery by hunger and love. From the philosopher point of view sexual life takes a subordinate position in human’s life, from recent studies pushed by European philosophers, everything is about sexuality and its development. I like to think of the experience of being an alienist as the process of Queen Penelope that, while waiting for her husband Ulysses return, undoes her craftwork every night. I undo the fabulous constructs of people’s beliefs to go back to the rough sketch that stands at the beginning of their loss, their complex, their pain. Maybe that’s why working with children is so motivating and fascinating. They can be saved and yet, I am well aware, some of those sketches already traced in their young lives equal to scars that not even the most advanced theories could cure. But I can sooth them. I can prevent them the torment, the anguish, the recollection at night of those monsters. I feel like a poet would be a better alienist than a philosopher, but I have got no poetry nor philosophy in my veins, but the cold experience of the razor blade judgment of Life itself.

Today I observed a fight among the children at the Institute. Age range between 10 and 12. Boys. The fight was over the possession of a side of the playground, the territory of a pack of youngsters formed under the name of Steven. Peculiar lad, coming from a military background finds comfort in replicating the schemes he lived in his family. He takes the role of the Father/Captain of the team and subjects children that come from a similar background story, but do not posses his same attitude to the command. All quiet on the front, until the space he declared is own spot got affected by the presence of others. Intruders. I knowingly let the events unfold to see how Steven would react to his challenged authority. His reaction was, at first, worded, a sketch, a stage-play of an action he witnessed over and over, and he knew the part so well that some of the contending kids lowered their stance against him. Among considering to mildly intervene into this pyramid scheme of authority, another boy, Jan, calls himself on the role of the educator and hero of the masses and proceeds to unfold a wild and well assessed punch on the newly declared dictator face. Balance is established again. No need for me to arbitrate, once more the laws of nature seem to apply to children as in a state of nature.

Meet John Moore over lunch. His job at the newspaper is picking up, he is charmed by the spirits and the wits that he finds in his shared office with all the other writers. He mentions many, goes on and on over qualities and troubles, gossips and tendencies, and even little scandals here and there. To be aware of all those details gives me no interest, but to see a dear friend so invested clearly gives me something to pick up. To consider also the amount of details and the way he describes this or that member of the journal, I can do a small exercise of analysis. It is almost too easy because John is painfully genuine, even some of the kids at the institute would beat him hands down in a battle of lies. The more he likes somebody, the more he goes on about all the details and the characteristics, often letting aside the physical appearance. When he doesn’t like somebody he has a couple of adjectives for the wits and around four or five for the physical aspects that usually indulge on some repulsive idiosyncrasies. John is a man that painfully fits in the storyline of The Picture of Dorian Gray: to him physical beauty is spiritual beauty and, of course, the other way around. This part of him surely intrigues me, makes me want to tease more from him. But, as a friend, it concerns me as John is way too prone to purposelessly decide that somebody with good eyes is also a good human being, which is a very romantic and admirably naive way of judging matters. I noticed some names that keep repeating in his narration. I dread that it is synonymous of a soon encounter from my side with the objects of his admiration. Fetiches, I dare to say, that I will have to annihilate before they sediment into his mind, perpetuating a narration that soon sees John being mislead by others.

Reserved: Tickets for the Eroica, Symphony n. 3 by Ludwig van Beethoven. Thursday evening.

Note on the show: the first movement lacked the pathos needed to begin with, I am not sure that the guest orchestra really managed to portray the wider emotional ground needed to withstand the whole representation. As the evening progressed there were some outstanding performances by the cellists. Still not approving the choice of reprising the early quick finale movement against the lengthy set of variations and fugue that we are used to in presence of the Eroica. Underwhelming the performance of the horn and oboe, vital in the comprehension of the genius of Beethoven.

Niki is a new addition of the Institute, quite old for the standards. He is already 16, he will leave when summer ends to some expensive college his family meant him to stay. His parents expect me to make him “normal” in the time we are allowed together. He is Austrian and I let him act it out like I don’t understand German for the first week of hist stay until today. I believe I hit his pride, which is good, in the moment I answered back to one of his sneaky comments. Now he knows. He is not safe from me, he doesn’t like it. The young man has a tendency to danger, risky tasks and edgy situations. In his mother’s own words “Niki is not afraid of anything”. The phrase didn’t raise any excitement in the father, rather some sort of painful acceptance that is role as the alpha male of the house is probably not only being challenged, but already diminished, if not abolished. I have taken in consideration that Niki will break himself a bone or two in the process of the therapy, probably out of the spite of boredom or rebellion. It took him less than few days to turn himself into an outcast among the outcasts, which only drives me closer to analyse the complexity of his narcissistic wall of self defence. I gave him a physical challenge to lift a certain weight, he is a pretty skinny one, he didn’t like the challenge, but I am sure he will take it. He is a brainy guy, he hates to be questioned on unfamiliar ground. He won’t sleep at night thinking about it. A challenge, in this first phase, can only bring me closer to the ease of his pains. To continue the observation.

It is a sad privilege of medicine, in particular the one I practice, to be able to witness the weaknesses of the human nature and the reverse side of life. Nevertheless, I oblige this same privilege of the study as life moves into shades of darkness. To be aware of it gives more solace to my soul than to be victim of patiently waiting for the inevitable unfolding of the events. To be able to understand more about psychology would bring more comfort and elevation to any human being, the times might not be there yet, but eventually something will move into the direction of a more wholesome approach.

Dinner meeting with Sara Howard, at the restaurant Jardin Des Cygnes, 7 pm sharp. Do not expect to reach the dessert. Do not know if John will be participating due to undeniable tension among the two and the fatal despise of John over French cuisine.

The case that Sara unfolded tonight to my ears feels more and more like pulled out from some gothic book or from the mind of a Roman historian that needed to justify the godly origins of an Emperor. One killing, apparently random, a very constructed iconography over the body. Signs and insults, shapes and drawings. Is this a work of art? Does the killer wants his victim to be his Mona Lisa? His David? I am charmed and destabilised. If this was a murder like any other, then why to spend so much time into it? Based on the description the act of killing itself was quick: a sharp cut over the throat, almost like not wanting to ruin too much the surface to use as base for, what? I keep rerunning those symbols over and over as Sara described them to me, my mind is flooded with the designs of greek philosophers that needed to explain themselves why the sky is above our head and never collapses on us. Hilarious how, no matter the science advancement, in the mind of many the sky stands inevitably overt their shoulders, suffocates them, brings them to a death of the soul and not of the body. Is all this graphic charade indeed only a form to scream for attention? To stress the eyes of an unaware viewer? It seems ridiculously elaborate, a scream for attention would be quick, it would be like guided by instinct, not reasoning, craftwork. Any man with a knife can paint in blood red the walls of a room and that’s asking for attention. That is the primal howl: look at me! I am here! But this one. I don’t know yet.

Spent the early morning reading anew my copy of The Metamorphosis by Ovid. Didn’t touch it in a long time and I got bedazzled by the world of terrible sensuality, anger and selfishness of those gods and mortals. I think back at all the deviances and weaknesses of human kind and I try to relate it to all of those humanoid figures. Niki would be a minotaur, the lonesome son left in the labyrinth and his strive for success is his bull’s head. Or maybe a centaur, because of his wits and strategic thinking. I might keep up the process, maybe this is the way to understand my patients better, to understand the killer better. Must remember not to romanticise it. Greek gods were probably the first form of self indulging of a society that needed gods to be forgiving and allowing favours and punishments, but only in exchange of sacrifices. But the sacrifice never comes from the God’s will, but from the will of the man that perpetuates the act of killing. To sacrifice someone or something is the sadistic response to a lack of love deeply inherited in human mind that becomes neurotic. Is the killer giving the God of his own neurosis a body to feast upon?

I talked with Jan this morning. The young boy is about 10, but he acts like a full grown adult. I could easily asses that’s the reason why he could challenge Steven in that fight. Two children mimicking adults situations they know too well. Jan is son of an industrial man, but he is also son of the dialectics of the industrial revolution. He sounds like he swallowed some of those books about working class rights and communism, probably pushed by a resentful surrounding (mother?uncle? the midwife?) over the social role of his father. As much as incredibly smart and lectured, Jan lost most of his early occasions in life by spending a considerable amount of time using his fists. The anger ever present in the young boy always surprises me, he seems to be holding a power, a strength of a full grown man in those tiny arms. Nevertheless, he is already the tallest of the group. He is surely an idealist, which makes him also tragically fragile. His strength mixed with his heart of gold can make him the best of the heroes or the worst of the villains. He apologised for the fight, he specified how he didn’t like the sound of Steven’s voice, more than the sound, the level of pitch. I can’t stand somebody shouting orders, I just don’t listen anymore. He is so mature even about his own feelings, almost a gentleman in his chivalry toward the weaker children, honest with his open heart and resentful against any form of injustice. I am not spared by his ways, he would come at me whenever he feels like I was being partial over some of the kids, his sense of justice blinds him and transform a perfectly balanced boy into a ranging animal.

Ordered book, to be delivered around tomorrow evening: Introduction à la méthode de Léonard de Vinci by Paul Valéry. Suddenly feeling myself as a gross ignorant in art themes. I always regarded myself aware of the artistic personalities and tendencies of present and past, but this new amount of perceptions over the human figure and the human body leads me to document myself more. I could ask John for advice, but he wouldn’t take things at matter that seriously. I can almost hear him say how I can make gruesome a pleasant topic such as art. I should probably wait to see the body to push any further aesthetic study, but I find myself not being able to stop. I reckon, I can allow myself a vice or two.

Today I saw the body of the killed man, courtesy of the Isaacson's. To be fair, I had underestimated it. In Sara’s descriptions, probably due to her more analytic mind, all the charm of the representation got lost in favour of a less cryptic and reasonable understanding of the act. Sara got what some alienists will call a masculine mind, which I don’t perfectly agree on. If I apply that same approach John would be a very feminine mind, all wrapped up in romanticising even the ugliest. I guess that dividing the world in “fragile and gentle” and “strong and powerful” is just easier to explain the fluctuation of something that doesn’t need a real name or a category like human inclinations on thoughts. I got a feverish sense of patience by looking at the body. Each symbol traced with sapient slowness, dense of the time that the killer spent with the body. That is a work of hours, he had time and meaning. He had resources and was able to spend not less than the time he needed to reach, a vision? An ideal? A message? Is it the message meant to be understood? Am I supposed to unravel it or it is maybe just the way the killer communicates within himself? And if I do decifrate the code, will that bring me closer to him? Or to his next victim?

Reminder: ask John to replicate all the symbols on the bodies in the correct measure and order. It might be needed some hard convincing. Addition: scheduled meeting, his house, 3 pm.

It wasn’t a day like any other when I met you. Or maybe it was, and that’s why I got so struck by it and now I am here playing it over and over through what my memory clung on so desperately. In my own experience, life was often similar to swimming in a lake. Those rich, dense lakes in the north of (illegible cancelled word) were my father used to bring us during summer. I still feel the pull, the draw down toward the abyss. It ashamed me, in a way, the fear that such a simple feeling aroused in my young mind, unaware nevertheless, that such a feeling would follow me through all my existence. It was a prophecy and, like most of the prophecies, was a riddle. I cradle in my heart the charm of those days, the mindless happiness. The foolish feeling of freedom. Little I knew that freedom would be taken away from me that soon, that the body that used to navigate me over the dense waters, helping me to fight the haul toward the unknown, would become my own cage. That day. Today. The day where I met you, the day I was afloat. The child gasping for air felt the wrench become a gentle push and now he is floating on his back over the scary waters of reality and malice. It gave me relief and it gave me terror, because since that very moment I knew that I would never be able to move on from the sight of you. From the feeling of your eyes lingering on me. From the smile you so easily shone upon me. From the whiff of imported perfume that hit me when you turned on side exploding that swan like neck. And nothing, not even my stern look, could dim that wave of hope that your sole presence washed over me. The abyss roars, calls me to a home of damnation and terror and curses my name and yet you repeated that hell-bound name of mine after me and I felt safe.

John told me so much about you, it feels like I have always known you.

The rope is gone from my neck, the guillotine won’t fall on me, I am spared, I am free.

I have read your latest article, I am thrilled to help with the case.

I am in disbelief.

Your voice.

Dr. Kreizler

How dare you? How dare you to come into my life, to appear, like a vision, mystical, in a way I despised at University when all those theology students talked about the divine. In this very moment I can’t recollect much of what you said, something about the case, about going with John at the obituary. It feels confusing, I feel overstimulated, my memory fails me, I am not sure anymore. I write these few lines and it is passed the hour of the witches and I wish, I demand, to never see you again, because life should never grant hope to a condemned man.

#dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler x reader #the alienist fanfic #victorian age #v writes #the diary of doctor laszlo kreizler

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hunflowers · 4 years

Text

Golden

Word Count: 15.3k

Requested? I don’t remember, but you always can here :)

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A/N: Lord, have mercy SHE’S FINALLY HERE!!!!! My baby Golden is finally out to the public and can I just say how fucking relieved I am to post it. I love her, I hope you do too <3 little warning: there are mentions of panic attacks in here, and a heart condition (that i did my best to research on) so if you’re uncomfortable, pls don’t read.

special thanks to my soul baby @stylesloveclub for being my biggest support system with this, she’s dedicated to you <3

for anyone reading this, please reblog! it really helps us writers out. okay onward friends!!! lemme know how i did and if you like it *nose boops*

Water. The ocean. Waves. The tide.

Symbolic of life, birth. Can be used to wash away even the most troubling of sins.

O’ahu, Hawaii, home to some of the best surfing destinations in the state, in the country, in the world. Also home to one of the best surfers in the state, in the country, in the world.

Y/N didn’t coin herself that. Not that she’s complaining about it, but she doesn’t surf for the title. She surfs for the freedom. She feels the most alive when her toes dig into the sand as she runs towards the warm, salt oblivion, her novelty yellow and blue surfboard tucked under her arm.

Her whole life she had been surrounded by water. When she was a baby, she always wanted a bath. When she was a toddler, she always wanted to stay in the kiddie pool. And then she got into surfing, and well, the rest is history so-to-speak. Her parents never got themselves involved in the sport professionally but more as a recreational activity. And it was even how they met, so really there was no stopping surfing from flowing through Y/N’s blood.

Her backyard was the ocean, so growing up, it was really the only thing for her to do. It’s what all the kids were doing, and Y/N was no different. She met her best friends on the beach when they were five years old, practicing the basics of surfing, like getting up on the board and finding their balance with the Earth.

Kalani and AJ, two of the best surfers Y/N will ever meet, and two of the purest souls to ever grace her life. They’re madly in love with one another. Have been for as long as they’ve been friends -- so coming up on sixteen years. Y/N is in awe of their relationship, she really is, but being a third-wheel isn’t exactly something she signed up for. Though, she kind of expected it when growing up.

They tried countless times to set her up with someone, but time and time again their matchmaking skills have failed, and Y/N is tired of them pitying her. No, she may not be in a long term relationship, but she hardly has time for a relationship anyway. Especially with competitions coming up, she needs to keep herself focused on surfing rather than some boy who will probably end up breaking her heart.

Well, that was her intention anyway.

October 27th, the first day of the best months out of the year.

And it started just the same as every other year. Y/N woke up at the crack of dawn and threw on her lucky white bathing suit before throwing an apple down her throat. Her surfboard was perched up against the back patio railing, and she swiftly tucked it under her arm as she made her way down the shore, being greeted by the luminescent sun that was swarming the sea in a shade of tangerine and lemon.

Jogging knee deep into water, Y/N sunk her hand just below the surface, swaying it back and forth, taking a deep breath as she felt the cool texture swarm her body. Exhaling slowly, she threw herself down onto her board, paddling onward into the great unknown. The familiar sound of the crashing waves causing her to flinch for a brief moment before comforting her ears as she watches the restless ocean ahead of her, a smile washing over her face as she could basically see her future ahead of her.

Today marks qualifying day, and obviously if she marks as qualified, she moves forward to the Vans Triple Crown. She’s been training all year, her body practically a prune with how much she’s been in the water. But, a minute can’t go to waste, so up until the very last second where she has to head to the north shore, she’s gonna remain in the water and build her intuition with how the day is going to go.

Last year, Y/N had to cut her time short when she was hospitalized the night before the first competition. So, she was all more determined to win the championship that is rightfully hers. Well, in the women’s division at least. Last year was ripped from her right when it was under her nose and she refuses to have a repeat of it.

After her hospitalization, everyone was convinced she’d never return to the water. Despite the ocean being her second home, everyone figured she would turn away -- avoid the embarrassment last year brought upon her. But, it only made her stronger and more determined to prove everyone wrong. No matter how frightening it really was.

Her first wave of the day had her coasting along smoothly, starting her out easy as waves progressively got bigger with the tide. When she got out into the water, the sun had just broken past the horizon line, yet by the time she left, the sun was nearly at its peak in the sky. Her skin felt raw, yet her body was running on adrenaline as she scoffed down the lunch her mom had made her before they banded into the family van and headed to Sunset Beach on the north shore.

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her leg bouncing subconsciously but furiously as she watched the landscape pass her by through the window. Her typically calming music wasn’t even working as she ran through multiple scenarios in her mind of what could go wrong today and how her day, her week, month, even year could be ruined.

Once outside of the van and on the beach, her parents pulled her close into a tight, warm hug, whispering words of encouragement in her ears, knowing just how important this was for her. Surfing and competitions had always been important to Y/N, but following last year’s downfall, this day was going to make or break whatever is left of her both physically and emotionally.

“Y/N!” she heard her name being called from the distance, the three of them immediately letting go of one another as they exchanged sheepish smiles.

“Y/N!” Was called out again, causing her to turn around and see Kalani running straight for the three of them, waving her arms in a drastic manner to gain her best friend’s attention. “Oh my -- I ran so fast, wow, I need to calm down,” Kalani breathed out, closing Y/N into a firm embrace.

“Save your energy for the waves, babe,” Y/N laughed, wrapping her own arms around Kalani’s frame. The two of them were never inseparable, it was kind of like they were actually glued to the hip together ever since they were children. And a lot of people were surprised they remained best friends through the years, what with both of them always competing in the same surfing competitions battling for the first place spot. And they knew this could be a strain on their relationship, but they decided ever since they were seven years old that they weren’t going to let surfing get between them. No matter what, they were always proud of each other for everything they’ve accomplished and are each other’s number one fans.

Thing is, Y/N tends to snag that first place spot a lot of the time, and Kalani always just misses her, earning her the second spot, right beneath her. But, Kalani has grown to accept that Y/N is better at the sport, and that’s nothing for her to be ashamed of. She’s managed to get a few of her own first place wins, and in her eyes, that’s good enough. She can’t live her life being jealous of her best friend because that’s not healthy, and anyway, surfing is much more Y/N’s livelihood than it is her own, so she’s fine with being second best -- despite what others may think.

Tugging her board off the top of the car, Y/N tucked it beneath her arm as she walked hand-in-hand with Kalani to wherever her family had set up camp on the beach. “Where’s AJ?” Y/N wondered, as she looked out into the water and saw no one out in it.

“The boys are starting soon, so he’s with Nav,” Kalani said, finally stopping in front of her parents and younger brother, and AJ’s older brother.

“Y/N!” They greeted, getting up from their chairs to kiss the girl on the cheek before greeting her parents. “It’s so great to see you back here,” Kalani’s mom smiled, pinching Y/N’s cheek before plopping herself back down under the sun.

They all began to catch up with one another since it’s been awhile they’ve all gotten together, all of them falling into old habits as if it hadn’t been months since they were last together. Y/N tried to engage in as much conversation as possible, but her mind tended to wander off as the guys started lining up in the water and making their way out. Her throat dried up and her palms were sweating -- and not from the heat -- as her nerves kicked in. Her memory began to cloud her vision as she stood abruptly and quickly walked away from the group, her heart picking up again.

Her breaths shortened as her mind blurred, and all she wanted was to curl up on her bed and calm her mind. She felt someone’s hand on her back, and immediately she could tell it was her father by the smell of his cologne. Once she was far enough from people, Y/N could feel tears well in her eyes as short images flashed across her eyes, cutting each inhale of breath in half -- which caused her to panic even more as she couldn’t breathe properly.

Last year ruined her, and she absolutely despises that this is considered her normal day-to-day routine now, her body shaking with fear as she feels herself collapsing from the inside, out. “Y/N, honey, can you hear me?” She thinks she hears her father say, but is undetermined with the intense white noise that’s swarming her ear drums.

“Count with me, c’mon, backwards from ten.”

But, all her mind could focus on was her body sinking lower and lower beneath the surface of water.

“Ten… Gotta count, c’mon you can do it, nine.”

“Eight,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp her dad’s shirt tight in her fist, just to make sure that he was really in front of her. She needs to be reminded that last year is her past, and that no matter how forward it is in her mind, it’s not her present anymore and she’s not drowning. “Seven.”

He took her hands and held them to his chest, “Six, keep going.”

“Fi-” she gulps, swallowing the lump in her throat, “..five.”

She makes it all the way down to zero, her body visibly relaxing and mentally as she hesitantly looks around to see no one watching the little event. “Do you want to go home?”

Y/N looks up to her father, shaking her head in response as she sniffles her nose and brushes away the one stray tear that has cascaded down her cheek. “No… I can do this.”

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips, slowly nodding his head. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turns them back in the direction, walking with her slowly as she continues to gather herself. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re an amazing surfer.”

“I think I just need to prove it to myself,” she stated, dragging her feet through the sand like a child so it slowed their arrival time back with the group. She can only imagine that her mom had informed everyone already of what was happening, and the last thing she wants is their sorry eyes and pathetic spouts of pity that she knows she’ll wish they just kept to themselves.

Y/N knows she’s broken. She’s not the same girl everyone knew this time last year, but she doesn’t need to be reminded of it every time she steps into a room. What happened last year was serious and she understands that people are worried; But all she wants is for everyone to forget about it. Including herself. She thinks the thing that’s causing her the most trepidation now -- rather than in the morning or all year long -- is the fact she’s now back in front of a crowd again, eyes trained on her like hawks watching prey, waiting for something awful to happen again.

The only thing missing is the popcorn as they watch this free entertainment.

When they finally came back to everyone, Y/N noticed the guys had started paddling out. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, dismissing her presence as she sat herself down back in the sand, and a breath of relief escaped her lips. The tension was there, but everyone ignored it for her sake, and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful.

“Go, AJ!” Kalani cheered, pumping her fist and shouting a few hoots and hollers afterward. Dom, AJ’s brother, let out a few ear screeching whistles, the kind with the fingers in the mouth, joining in on rooting for his brother.

Watching the guys out there solidified to Y/N how real this really is, and soon her veins were pumping with excitement again instead of dread as she cheered on her best friend. He was going to qualify, they all were and they knew that, but it's always fun to get excited about the possibility of moving forward and winning the titles and earning the trophies.

All the other faces that surfed alongside AJ were mostly familiar, their names ringing bells as the announcers spoke of them, but there was one that Y/N hadn’t ever heard before. It’s the same cycle of people every year, yet this guy was fresh. And the only reason she’s curious as to who he is, is because he’s good. Like, really good.

Kalani can’t exactly remember if she’s heard of him either, shrugging to Y/N’s wonderment, “I don’t know. Maybe AJ knows.” His pink surfboard and pink wet shirt stuck out as he was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/N grew a little resentment towards him as he pulled out a few advanced maneuvers, gaining everyone’s undivided attention that used to be on AJ.

“Who is that?” Y/N’s mother questioned, looking around to see that no one knew the answer.

He was a mystery yet he radiated this vibrant energy as the guys finished their rounds, walking off with grace in his step as he laughed at something Nav -- one of the three’s friends -- had said. The girls bid their goodbyes to their families as they headed over to where the guys were before their rounds. AJ immediately came running over to them, hugging Y/N and Kalani simultaneously before giving his girlfriend a quick kiss on the lips. “You did great,” Kalani smiled, keeping her arms wrapped around his center.

“Alright, not in front of me,” Y/N grimaced, looking away from them. Immediately her eyes landed on the new surfer, still talking to Nav, and she was quick to turn back to AJ to ask who he is. “Hey, who’s the new guy?”

Looking over his shoulder, AJ saw who she was talking about before realization dawned on him. “Oh, that’s Harry. He’s from England. A really nice guy, I bet you’d like him,” he winked, causing Y/N to look at him with squinted eyes and pursed lips.

Kalani nudged his side, giving him a weird look. “What? I’m just saying.”

Then, speak of the Devil, Nav and this Harry guy came walking over, joining the three as they stood around waiting for the announcement that the girls could head out. Y/N wasn’t exactly paying attention to her surroundings as she continued to calm herself down for the impending near future. It wasn’t until Harry had stood in front of her, that she was knocked out of her own thoughts.

She looked up at him, making eye contact and briefly getting her breath caught in her throat. When he was far away, it was hard to make out his facial features or what he exactly looked like. But being right in front of him, she was merely astonished at his beauty, but more so his green eyes that reflected the perfect amount of sunlight. His wet, brunette hair rested against his forehead and seemed to be drying a bit curly.

His head tilted slightly, an amused smirk inching up his face as he watched her reaction. Something tells her he’s used to this kind of reaction. “M’Harry.”

His hand came between the two of them, waiting for her to grasp it in a firm grip. Y/N was hesitant at first but finally took his hand and shook it gently while greeting herself before dropping her hand back down to her side. “Y/N.”

This is insanely awkward. Especially because her friends are just watching the exchange silently, as if they weren’t allowed to speak while the two introduced themselves.

Harry has heard of Y/N. It’s hard for anyone involved in the surfing business to not have heard of her. Aside from the jarring news from last year, she’s an excellent surfer and her name is always spreading around like wildfire. She’s part of the reason Harry decided to delve more into the professional surfing world, because he’s been itching to meet her.

Y/N is attractive, anyone with eyes knows that, but Harry wanted to meet her only because of her expansive skills in the water. Standing in front of her, he can’t deny her undying beauty -- and if he weren’t such a gentleman he’d probably be trying to woo her this very instant. But, her looks aren’t what draws him to her, and he decides to not think with his dick for once.

Before he gets the chance to say something else to her, they get notified that the girls should start heading out for their rounds. Y/N and Kalani grab their boards and tuck them under their arms before bidding their goodbyes to the boys and scurrying off to join the rest of the girls.

“Whipped already?” Nav jokes, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading them to the sand where they’ll watch.

Y/N steps her toes into the water, basking in the cool feeling wrapping around her toes and surging up her body. She rolls her neck feeling it crack softly before rolling her shoulders back and taking in her umpteenth deep breath of the day. Her and Kalani looked at each other, nodding with smiles on their faces before they walked deeper in the shallow water until it reached the middle of their thighs before dropping their boards down and paddling out.

At the sight of a small wave heading toward her, Y/N dipped herself beneath the water just to wet her hair. It felt refreshing again to feel the salt coax her skin for the second time that day, as if it never left. When she greeted the air again, she could immediately feel the rays of the sun bouncing off of her skin, illuminating her in a heavenly glow, like the star she is. The spotlight is on her as she aims herself for the peak of the impending wave, nabbing the first ride of the girls’ round.

Back on the beach, her mom’s fingers were crossed, her dad’s breath was caught in his lungs, and Harry’s eyes were fixated on her figure as she jumped up on the belly of her board. Her legs kept her balance against the rough matter below her. Due to the steep wall of the wave, Y/N had to act quick and rational in order to keep control, and started off with an off-the-lip, which kept her parallel with the wave before she moved herself down and carved herself back into the energy zone.

Because it was a smaller wave, she could only go on for so long before she tipped herself off the board and fell down into the water. Everyone waited with bated breaths and kept their eyes on the area she sunk beneath the blue, before sighing in relief to see her head pop back up. Harry could see the joy wipe over everyone’s faces, replacing the worry that was once there as they hugged one another. He could tell Y/N has such a good support system, and it only urges him more to want to be a part of her life.

Of this life.

❊ ❊

“You guys did so good! We’re so proud,” Y/N’s mom gushed as she pulled her into a warm embrace -- a hug that holds more meaning than just being proud. Her mom was relieved. Grateful. Happy. She’s able to hold her daughter one more time, and that’s all she could ask for. “It’s going to be a good year for all you kids.”

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She was elated, overjoyed, ecstatic, riding such a good high. Her comeback couldn’t have gone any better and she’s just so, so happy. Arriving at the beach she was nervous and anxious and was two seconds away from caving to her fears and running away. Now, as she walks arm-in-arm with her best friend away from the water for the night, she’s laughing a genuine laugh and her veins are currently pumping excitement rather than nerves.

AJ locked his arm over her shoulders, the three of them linked just like they always are as they head towards Y/N’s family van. But, instead of like other times, this time they have a tag-a-long trailing behind them. It’s sort of like a tradition where after every competition, all of the families join together and head to dinner at their usual restaurant. Nav couldn’t come because he had his own family matters to attend to but Harry was more than willing to accept the offer. He says he came to Hawaii alone and that he had nothing better to do, but his intense stare on Y/N when he accepted the offer says that’s not the only reason he was so quick to join.

It was also part of the tradition that they ride together in the van, 1) because it was the most spacious vehicle where they were able to ride together and 2) because Y/N’s parents are pretty fun to be around. They blasted the best music and made the best jokes, causing not one dull car ride. When they filed in, AJ and Kalani pushed themselves to the back seat, leaving Y/N and Harry to sit in the separate middle row chairs.

“Oh! Harry, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. Does your family want to join us? They’re more than welcome to,” Y/N’s mom looked over her shoulder in the passenger seat.

He cleared his throat, looking up from his phone and sitting up a bit in his seat, an uncomfortable look on his face. “M’here alone, actually.”

Before anyone could ask any questions, AJ clapped Harry’s shoulder, saying, “We’re your temporary family now, man.” Despite being competitors, it seems the two of them really hit it off and AJ genuinely meant what he said about being Harry’s family. Though, everyone knows the main reason he said it was to diminish the rising tension.

“Thanks, mate,” Harry returned, fist bumping AJ. And during the little exchange, Harry caught eyes with Y/N, catching her eyes wandering around his profile and facial features, causing her to look away quickly and look out the window as if the view was something spectacular. She could hear him snicker quietly, and just when she thinks the coast is clear, she slyly looks back at him just to find out he’s already staring at her.

They really love staring at one another apparently.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N and Harry were pushed to the back of the group -- not really by choice but somehow it ended up that way -- and neither of them really made any moves to break the silence between them. Y/N because she was nervous, and Harry because he wanted her to be the first to speak. And it just so happened that when they were sat at a table, they were left with the last two remaining chairs that also happened to be right next to each other. Y/N couldn’t figure out if they were doing this on purpose or it was by coincidence, but she can tell Harry doesn’t mind.

She’s not one to be nervous around guys, but there’s something about Harry and how he is so blatantly interested in her that makes her wary of talking to him. Kalani sat across the table from her, and when they made eye contact, they had a silent conversation about how Y/N should grow the balls and actually talk to him. Of course Y/N refused, which earned her a kick to the shin in retaliation, which then caused her to let out a yelp of pain and made everyone look at her confused and worried.

“Sorry, hit my knee on the table,” she brushed it off, glaring at her best friend the moment everyone turned away and continued with their own conversations.

Being as slick as possible, Kalani directed her eyes to Harry when he wasn’t looking so Y/N could see her, before turning to AJ and talking to him about something completely irrelevant. Again, Y/N and Harry were stuck in this silence. She’s not exactly sure why she can’t just start a conversation, but he’s kind of intimidating and she’s afraid of embarrassing herself, especially in front of her family.

Pursing her lips and looking down to her lap, Y/N finally turned to give Harry her attention, noticing how he was staring into space, looking completely lost in this foreign setting. “So, uh, where exactly are you from?”

Harry was quick to turn his head to Y/N, waiting and waiting and waiting for the moment she would say something. “A small town in Cheshire. Northwest of London, if that helps.”

“That’s a pretty far trip to take alone,” she nods, licking her bottom lip before gently biting down on it. As much as she thinks of herself as an independent person, she’s also an extreme homebody and could never imagine going anywhere without anyone by her side, whether it be family or friends.

He merely shrugs in response, “M’better off alone.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side while looking at him, letting his words sizzle inside her mind as she tries to overanalyze him in the mere hours she’s known him. She turned her gaze down to her hands that were intertwined in her lap, mulling over her next words to say. She doesn’t know him, but she knows the feeling of being alone. And being alone, no matter how appealing it could sound, never works out in the end. People aren’t meant to live alone. It goes against the natural order of life, and just hearing him say he prefers being alone breaks her heart just the tiniest bit. “No one’s better off alone. Everyone needs someone eventually.”

Little does she know, is that she is his someone. Or, at least that’s what Harry’s hoping. He thinks he’s crazy for being so enthralled by someone so suddenly and so strongly, but Harry’s always been one to trust his gut. His plushie but toned gut was screaming at him that this girl is just meant to be in his life. Maybe meant to be his, but he won’t push his luck. “Guess we’ll have to wait an’ see.”

They both smiled softly at one another, a small blush creeping up Y/N’s cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “I guess we will.”

❊ ❊

It had been a little over two weeks since qualification day. Her days hadn’t changed much in regards to her schedule; Waking up at the ass crack of dawn and heading straight into the water and staying in practically until the sun was set. But, there was one slight shift in her day, and that was the now familiar face of Harry popping in everyday, either physically or in her mind.

It was safe to say Harry was quickly adapting to the three friends, merging with them seamlessly; As if he had been part of this little group since he was a child. It’s not like any of them minded, especially AJ because he was happy to get another guy around. Their friend Nav wasn’t exactly a permanent part of their little group because he belonged to everyone and no one, but Harry stuck around them like glue and AJ was so grateful.

Y/N’s grateful because now she isn’t a third-wheel.

Harry and her aren’t exactly buddy-buddy, but it definitely helps having someone else around for movie night so Y/N isn’t stuck watching her best friend’s all cuddled up together and hearing the occasional kiss they would share.

Though, Harry has made it known time and time again that he really wants to be buddy-buddy with her. And Y/N’s not exactly sure why she won’t give him what he wants, but for some reason she loses all comprehensive skills and becomes a blubbering, nervous mess around Harry whenever he brings up his interest in her. So, she’s successfully avoided all buddy-buddy conversations with him by bringing up mundane things instead. Like, why she decided to paint her nails blue, or why she absolutely despises white socks.

She thought she was doing a pretty skillful job too. But, after the first two times she avoided giving a yes or no answer to going on a date with him, Harry purposely would ask her just to hear what other obscure distractions she could come up with. He loved hearing Y/N talk, and without her knowing, he was getting to know her piece by piece, inch by inch, and he was loving it.

Though, a guy’s ego can only take so many rejections before he gives up completely. And just when he was ready to call it quits and accept that she wasn’t interested in him like he was her, the unexpected happened.

Y/N agreed to a date.

Well, kind of.

It was time for the Hawaiian Pro. The official first event of the Vans Triple Crown. It was taking place at Ali’i Beach Park in Hale’iwa, one of the most intense surfing spots filled with waves of many different faces. Of course, this is when Y/N’s nerves really started to kick in. Qualification day isn’t anywhere near as filled with people as the actual events are, and her nerves have seemed to kick it into high gear. It doesn’t help that the Hawaiian Pro is when her life changed a year ago. She could hear people whispering about her, wondering if she’s going to wipe out again or if this time she’ll stay under the water. Her mind was already frenzied enough, but nothing completes the cycle like a panic attack and the embarrassment of many on-goers witnessing said panic attack.

She almost backed out. How is she meant to be the best when her body is afraid of taking its final breath? The tide was high and the waves showed no mercy. How is she meant to challenge that? How is she meant to control the water beneath her when she can’t even control her own thoughts?

It was getting to be too much for her. This entire time leading up to the Triple Crown she’s denied her fear and her anxiety, telling herself she’ll get over it. She’s been doing good all year, so what makes now any different? But it is very different. The calm atmosphere of her backyard is no match for the rambunctious setting of the Triple Crown. And she’s a fool for thinking differently.

So, she was panicking.

Y/N couldn’t even get up from her seat in her parent’s van because she was so shaky. Her father held her close, easing her back to reality and away from her tortuous mind. Of course, he offered to drive them back home and away from the competition, telling her again that she didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. But, she declined again. Because she needed to prove it to herself. She’s stronger than her mind lets on, and she needs to make sure she knows that.

When she slid off her board and sank her toes back into the warm sand after a very successful first round, landing her in the lead spot, she was finally able to breathe again.

People congratulated her on her comeback, astonished to see her doing better than ever before. Her parents embraced her with love and elation, so beyond happy to see her laughing and smiling and enjoying herself now that she’s progressing forward. Kalani of course is her number one supporter, practically jumping on her and screaming in her ear about how happy she is for her best friend.

Everyone was making their rounds hugging Y/N, and then it was Harry’s turn. They didn’t exactly embrace like the rest of them had, but he threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, squeezing her to him softly before looking down at her and saying, “Absolutely wicked, love. Gotta teach me some of y’fancy moves.”

“You sure? They’re really only meant for the pros,” she teased, biting at her bottom lip to conceal her laughter as he scoffed.

“”Ey, no one likes a narcissist,” he shoved her shoulder softly, rolling his eyes as her laughter rang through his ears. “But, whaddya say? M’gonna need a good teacher if I wanna make it to the big leagues.”

Y/N simply shrugs without really thinking much into it, “Sure.” Her mind didn’t exactly process what she had agreed to until later that night, before she dozed off into her temporary slumber. Her eyes shot open and her body sat upright as an over dramatic gasp was inhaled into her lungs. Her mind had been all over the place with the competition that she didn’t realize that she had agreed to being alone with Harry for the first time since they'd met. Immediately she texted and called Kalani, to which she got laughed at in return.

“Kalani, this isn’t a laughing matter!”

A few miles away, Harry was snuggled into his bedsheets, a bright smile stretched across his face as he reveled in the idea that he finally was going to be alone with Y/N since the first time they’d met. His heart was jumping and his stomach was fluttering as he envisioned her pretty face behind his eyelids before he drifted off into his dream with her.

“It so is! C’mon, Y/N, what have you got to lose? You have the same interests, he’s funny, he’s hot, and he clearly is into you. Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.”

Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.

That’s the thought that stuck in her mind, lingering around as she finally fell asleep, and then when she woke up, and when she was eating breakfast; And doing her chores; And hanging out with Kalani; And eating dinner; And then falling asleep again. Y/N didn’t even realize she had spent so much of her past year focusing on her career and health that she hasn’t done much of anything else.

She’s so grateful to be alive, but she’s hardly given herself the chance to live again.

Before her accident, she was always up for adventure and was always the life of any party. After her accident, she hasn’t even been to a party. She hasn’t been in a relationship in years, she hasn’t gone on a date in a long time, and she can’t even remember the last time she’s had sex or kissed a guy. She’s been so focused on her redemption, that she can’t remember the last time she was genuinely happy.

Going on this date, but also not a date -- but also clearly a date -- with Harry just may provide her with that. And she owes it to herself, to her past self, that her accident isn’t going to shape her life anymore.

Plus, she really enjoys Harry’s company. And even if she doesn’t show it so bluntly like him, she really likes him too.

The next day, Y/N and Kalani had gone out shopping, enjoying a nice girls day out. They had bought a few new varieties of swimsuits (as if they didn’t have enough) and a few other types of clothes, got some lunch, and even found time to watch a movie. And they did all of this right up until the moment Y/N decided it was time to text Harry.

She wasn’t sure how to go about this, because she’s never really asked anyone on a date before, or followed up with plans (?) about a date. Kalani kept urging her to just rip the bandaid off and to get it over with, saying something along the lines of, “You’re not getting any younger. Plus, I think he’d slip right off his board at the sight of you in that new yellow suit you got.” It was just a simple bikini, but it showcased the majority of her skin that essentially left little to the imagination.

But, the thing is, whenever Y/N gets into the water around people, she can’t help but cover her torso with a wet-shirt, insecure of the imperfections that lined her skin. It’s rare she can bear to look at her skin, so she only assumes no one else would want to either. So, she’s not so sure he’ll fall off his board at the sight of her, but the thought is nice.

Y/N pulled out her phone and hovered over his contact for a good amount of time before Kalani grew impatient and snatched the phone from her friend’s hand. They wrestled around with each other to try and gain custody of the phone, but finally in the end Y/N was able to hold her phone tight in her hands before declaring, “Okay! Okay! I’m texting, I’m going.”

Kalani peaked over Y/N’s shoulder as she watched her type the allusive message to Harry, a proud smile carving over her lips as she watched her break down a barrier she had subconsciously put up. It isn’t by any means important to be in a relationship or to have a boyfriend, but Kalani knows deep down that Y/N was wishing to have that special connection only a relationship could provide -- a connection outside of the realm of friendships.

“There,” Y/N huffed, shoving the screen of her phone in her best friend’s face.

hii, if you’re still up to learn from a true professional, I’m available tonight :)

It wasn’t even ten seconds later that she got a reply.

Shit, I’ll be your best student, babe. I know a perfect spot, I’ll be at yours in an hour.

It was kind of amusing to Y/N that he said he knows a perfect spot, as if she hadn’t been living on this island all her life and practically knows it like that back of her hand. But, that miniscule thought was pushed to the very depths of her mind as panic coursed through her as she realized what she was getting herself into. She’s going on a date, not a date, but also a date with Harry, and a small hour wasn’t enough time to gain her composure.

Fuck.

❊ ❊

It’s no surprise to Y/N when Harry shows up to her house a minute early. She’s half convinced that he had been waiting outside of her house for the past fifteen minutes until he finally stepped up on to the porch of her house, knocking rapidly on the door. It wasn’t an emergent knock that caused some sort of panic, but it was a frantic knock that screamed ‘let’s get the show on the road.’

When she opened the door, both of their breaths were robbed from their lungs. Y/N essentially looked like she always did but something about her glowed differently to Harry; maybe it was because she’s his for the night. For his eyes only. Just him and her. He was awestruck.

Harry essentially looked like he always did but something about him radiated differently to Y/N. The same little smirk was nestled in its usual spot, but this one held a different meaning. It looked the same, but maybe it was different because it was just her and him tonight. He’s hers for the night. For her eyes only. Y/N was nervous.

Y/N left her board out on her porch so she wouldn’t have to walk around back when he got here, but she was silently wishing she didn’t so she’d get just a couple more seconds to get herself together. She just kept chanting, “It’s not a date!” in her head, in hopes it would make her feel better.

It didn’t.

Harry saw her board and tucked it under his left arm as he threw his right one over her shoulders guiding her his mode of transportation. It also wasn’t a surprise to Y/N to see Harry rolling up in a light yellow Jeep; the top down and the doors off, typical of any surfer dude, no matter where they originate.

“Her name’s Betty,” he smiled, walking around the back and giving her a quick tap on her rear end before stepping up to straddle Y/N’s board safely and securely.

Sliding through the empty passenger door to take her seat, Y/N was greeted by a familiar smell, a smell she could only associate with Harry. And even if she could never admit it, she loved it a lot. It was mouth-watering and intoxicating, and simply put, it was Harry. Even with the open atmosphere of the car, it was still drenched in this specific smell, and Y/N can’t help but giggle at the image of Harry spritzing whatever cologne into the car before arriving at her house.

A few moments later, Harry slid into the driver side, placing the sunglasses that were sitting on the dash over his eyes, shoving the key into the ignition and starting them on their journey to whatever beach he had envisioned. On the ride there, over the course of a few right turns and lefts and different exits on the highway, Y/N surprisingly had no idea where they were going. Did she think maybe he was gonna murder her? A bit. But, she felt comfortable around Harry. So, she felt it in her gut that she was going to come out alive from this… event.

When they got to the beach, it was about thirty minutes from Y/N’s house, and she had no idea where they were. They had to walk a short path to meet sand and ocean, but once they made it past the clearing, Y/N was in awe of the site ahead of her. People could think that seeing the ocean every day ruins the peaceful and magical aura surrounding it. But, Y/N never gets sick of greeting it. The sun was beginning to set, and the water was glowing with a yellow-pink hue by the horizon that blended into a bright blue by the shore. The cliff sides around them guarded the little alcove, feeding into the tranquil atmosphere.

“How did you find this place?” Y/N wondered as she kicked off her sandals, and shimmied her shorts down her legs before kicking them over her sandals. The yellow bottom of her bikini was visible, and she turned her head just as Harry took a large gulp at the sight of her in front of him; Just for him. Her blue wet-shirt stayed on though.

It piqued Harry’s interest as to why she never took off her shirt. He understood for the competitions, but even when it was just a casual outing, just him and her, or them and their friends, she always kept it on. It wasn’t his place to ask, but he wished she would’ve broken this barrier down just this once. Just for him. “Tha’s a secret for me to know and you to maybe find out.”

Y/N let out a giggle - why? she didn’t know - and turned her attention back to the boy that brought her here, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she caught Harry taking off his white t-shirt, now only clad in his little pink shorts next to his little pink board. His skin looked extra dewy, and his tattoos seemed to glint under the setting sun. Before she could devour him with her eyes, she picked up her board and took it with her, running down to the water and shouting, “C’mon slow-poke, gotta get in the water before the sun sets!”

It wasn’t a surprise to Y/N that this didn’t keep on track of a teaching lesson. Harry doesn’t need to be taught, he’s amazing on his own. He pulled off his own tricks that Y/N didn’t even know the name of, and she was asking him to let her in on his little secrets. He locked his lips in return, throwing the imaginary key somewhere over his shoulder, “Y’think I’m g’na tell you? I’m far too narcissistic to let you beat me at my own game.”

“Who said I’m gonna beat you?”

“Have you met you?”

There’s a reason Y/N’s name circulates throughout people’s brains, why her name is common in any Hawaiian household, why Harry was itching to meet her. She’s good at what she does. Insanely good that it’s kind of concerning. Not everyone can come back from a life-altering experience, but Y/N took those stereotypes and crushed them beneath the tail of her infamous yellow surfboard. She reveled in the doubts and came back stronger than ever. Of course she would beat him at his own game. She’s the only one who could.

There wasn’t any telling how long they had been riding wave after wave, in the water with no one else but just each other. But, the sun almost halfway past the horizon line was a good giveaway. They were probably nearing the two hour mark, and they knew they couldn’t stay out here all night, but Jesus, how they wished they could. Y/N wasn’t expecting to be so content, thinking this would be some strange, awkward, uncomfortable time they would want to forget about the moment they left each other’s sides.

It’s the opposite.

Just for him. Just for her.

They both laid on their boards, limbs sprawled out and dangling into the water as their bodies shut down in exhaustion. Y/N can’t remember the last time she went so long without taking at least a ten minute break. Her body was most definitely not used to it as she felt her back mold into her little yellow board, accepting the relaxation. When she finally opened her eyes back up, she turned her head to the side, admiring Harry’s profile as his arms were pulled over his head, the skin of his torso being stretched, which also stretched the ink that adorned him.

Y/N got lost in the mirage that is Harry, that she didn’t even realize he had turned his head and caught her ogling. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that her eyes snapped to his, heat traveling up through her body and rushing to her cheeks. “M’eyes are up here, love.”

“Uh- right. Yeah, I know.”

“Cool. Hey d’y’wanna play twenty questions?” He asked, sitting up to straddle his board and paddling himself around so he was facing her.

Y/N squinted her eyes, “Are we children?”

“I mean, I guess not. Doesn’t stop my five year old humor though,” he smiled, kicking his foot up to splash her with an inkling of water as his childlike, petty comeback. “You ask first.”

Y/N pushed her hand through the water to spray him in an ounce of sea salt before turning her head back to the sky, contemplating her first question. “Mm… favorite color?” She already knew the answer.

“And you asked me if we’re children? C’mon, darling, know you wanna know more than tha’. Pink. What was your first impression of me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, even though she couldn’t see his face. This has been one of those things that’s been nagging at the back of his mind ever since they first met. Their first encounter wasn’t awkward per-se, but the fleeting moment of introduction wasn’t exactly one worth remembering either. But, Harry was always going to remember it. And depending on Y/N’s answer, he hopes she will too.

At this, she turned her head back to Harry, hand covering her eyes as the sun glared at them over the reflective water. It was a sight to behold, seeing Harry glow in the golden hour light. “Intimidating. But, also unique,” she began, moving to sit herself up and paddle her board around so she was now facing him. “You remind me of a singular cloud in an otherwise clear sky. You’re not meant to be there, yet you’re not out of place.”

Harry sat for a moment, staring. Completely in awe. Head over heels. Never would’ve guessed those words to be the ones tumbling from her lips. It was the way she didn’t hesitate in her sentence, as if those words had been formulated a while ago and just now was she able to spew it from her wordbank. Just for him. “Fuck, that was beautiful. Your turn.”

“Do you really think you’re better off alone?”

Harry pursed his lips, looking off into the distance for a brief moment before shrugging, “I do. But, I don’t. If it comes down to going back to my family and friends from home or being alone, I’ll choose being alone.” And he wanted to sprinkle in the little bonus that he doesn’t feel alone when he’s around her, but something tells him that’ll just turn her away. “What’re you so afraid of?”

It’s a brash question Y/N wasn’t expecting to be thrown at her so suddenly. She has a mix of answers, and there’s a specific one flashing in her mind like a bright, neon yellow sign, but she’s not certain how comfortable she is with telling him yet. Though, she notices that whatever question she could throw his way, he’d answer it truthfully, not scared of opening himself up, just for her. She wants to be brave like that, and maybe she can be, but she’s not sure how.

It comes as a surprise to her when she does say, “I’m scared of going through everything that happened last year all over again. Everyone’s afraid of dying, or at least most people are, but experiencing death… there’s really no coming back from that. ”

“Experiencing it?” He looks at her wide-eyed.

“What, you haven’t heard of what happened last year?” She looks at him, eyebrows scrunched.

“Only know you had some accident. No offense, but I didn’t really bother myself with reading the fine print,” he shrugs, running his pruney fingers through his salted hair. He didn’t know if he wanted to read it, especially not with the sudden news that apparently this very alive, lively girl in front of him… died? He doesn’t think he could stomach reading about that.

Y/N hasn’t met a single person who hasn’t heard about what happened to her. Or at least the details of it. In reality she doubts anyone outside of Hawaii knows of her existence, but in her world it was the biggest news to affect the state in a while -- aside from, like, actual serious matters, her accident was up there on the news.

She evades his second question though, not wanting to cough up the traumatic details of her past; not yet at least. “Well, it’s my turn anyway. Why surfing?”

“I could just look it up, but I get it; you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he gave her a playful look, pursing his lips while giving her a pointed stare. “It’s different. England isn’t known for surfing. It’s known for rain and football. But, with every possible detail of m’life, I wanted to make sure I was different. My dad wanted me to become a professional footy player, so I said no. M’mum wanted me to go and get a degree and a real job. I didn’t want that. So, I turned to surfing,” he swung his arms around, gesturing to the vast sea and the board below him.

“Plus, it’s given me an excuse to leave home and come here. And y’know, so I could meet you.”

Y/N felt a small blush creep up her skin again, her eyes shooting down to her lap and her feet that were distorted under the water. Harry’s infatuation with the girl isn’t a secret, but anytime he purposely makes it known, it’s like a little secret that she’s unsure if she’s supposed to know or not. “Meet me?”

Harry kicked his foot up again so water would splash at her. “Uh-uh, my turn,” he laughed, shaking his head. He knew she thought she was slick at the way she bit her lip, containing her laughter. If she wants to play by the rules of the nonsensical game, then so will he. “Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. Favorite song?” She wanted to reel back from the serious talk for a moment.

“Too many to choose from. Favorite movie?” He wanted to know every nitty-gritty detail about her.

She pondered for a moment, “Mamma Mia.”

“No shit! Me too!” His mouth dropped in shock, his hand flying up to his chest.

“Really?”

“No,” he shook his head, immediately blocking the massive splash he sensed coming.

Y/N rolled her eyes, huffing at him whilst crossing her arms over her torso, “Are you always so insufferable?”

“S’my middle name, babe. You hungry?” He laid himself down on his board on his belly, paddling himself to face the beach, ready to make a head start for the beach. Y/N hummed a response, following in suit and settling her stomach against the belly of the board and pushing herself to land. “Cool, let’s go get something to eat then I’ll take you home.”

Y/N’s legs felt weak, yet appreciative back on the sand. It felt like she was walking on Jell-O as she went to pick up her towel and clothes. Looking down to her shirt, she knew it was out of the question to let him see her take it off. And she could turn her back so he wouldn’t see her front -- whether or not it’s clad in a bikini top -- but even then her heart raced at the thought. She held her t-shirt in her hands and thought it over for a moment before blurting, “Could you turn around please?”

Harry looked up from checking his phone quickly, tilting his head in confusion before looking down to the shirt in her hands. The dots are connected and the bright neon pink sign in his head is telling him to listen to her, and not to question it. So, he doesn’t. Just for her. It’s still unbeknownst to Harry why she never takes her shirt off, but he knows better than to think with his dick, and accepts her wishes, turning his back to her.

Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, grateful he didn’t question her on it. She’s quick to rip off her shirt and pat dry her wet skin before hastily throwing on her dry one, giving Harry the OK to turn back around.

“Sorry, I just… I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing my, uh, my scar,” she mumbles, nervously moving her hair from one shoulder over to the other. Harry shrugs in response, picking his board up from the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they began their walk back to his car.

“You don’ have to explain yourself to me, babe,” he smiled down at her, squeezing her to his side softly.

Y/N looked up at him, and she’s sure that if she could see herself right now, her eyes would be twinkling in delight, with adoration. Just for him. “Thank you.”

They didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, walking the distance to his lonesome Jeep in peace. The silence gave Y/N time to think and to mull over all of the gushy feelings she was feeling inside about the guy beside her. She had no reason not to like him, realizing it was only fear that was pushing her away. But, this night displayed a soft side to Harry that she fell head over heels for. His smooth, easy-going approach to life, mixed in with respect for her, and a hint of witty humor was enough to tell her how she truly feels about him. And she’s scared, not because she’s afraid, but because she’s not.

Y/N can find herself easily opening up to Harry quicker than she has anyone else because she trusts him. She can just tell he’s got nothing to hide, so in-turn she wants to be the same. She doesn’t want to cower away, but revel in happiness. Because she deserves it.

Harry quickly secured the boards back into their previous spots before sliding into the driver side and whisking them away from their little getaway. The wind swept through their hair and chilled their still slightly wet skin, causing goosebumps to trail up Y/N’s arm as chills raked through her body. This time around in the car they both were more laid back, not singing along to the songs playing on the radio but rather just listening and taking in the blissful atmosphere they’ve created.

There’s been one question dancing across her mind though ever since he brought up the little game of twenty questions. It was the first one to pop up in her mind when she was thinking of something juicy to ask. She didn’t want to ask it though, in fear of what his answer would be. But, now she’s not afraid. She’s curious though.

“Is this a date?” She queried, turning the volume of the radio down a bit so he could hear her and vice versa.

Harry glanced at her through his peripheral, one eyebrow cocking up on his forehead, “Is the sky blue?”

“I mean, right now it’s like orange-blue,” she retorted, looking at the newly sun-ridden sky that blended shades of orange into the usual night blue.

“Brainiac. There’s your answer. It’s however you want to look at it,” he digressed, reaching over to pat her thigh - in more of a friendly manner rather than sensual.

She appreciated his answer, absolutely adoring the fact that he wasn’t putting pressure on her about anything. It was hard to comprehend just how nice he truly is, and how someone could be so perfect. She couldn’t see a flaw in his looks or his personality or his morals, and all she could wonder was how someone like him could possibly like someone like her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Harry.”

He side glanced at her again, this time raising both of his eyebrows in puzzlement, “I’ll take tha’ as a good thing?”

“It’s good. It’s… it’s a good thing.”

❊ ❊

The two of them had discussed where they wanted to go, neither of them wanting to decide and going back and forth with one another, saying, “No, you decide,” “No you.”

Y/N was never good at decisions, especially mundane ones like where to eat. She always lets Kalani decide because she could eat anything, and it’s her friend that’s the picky one. But, Harry is the same way. Whatever is put in front of him, he could probably eat (except for pickles, he absolutely hates pickles).

They settled for pizza. And it was going to be Harry’s first time trying a slice of Hawaiian.

Y/N hates Hawaiian slices, finding the sweetness of the pineapple and the savor of the ham unsettling atop her pizza. It sends her taste buds into shock and her mind into a meltdown. But, she insisted he try it, because how could someone be in Hawaii and not try its state-named slice?

They sat at their little table in the corner of the restaurant that was alongside a window, giggling to themselves as they played a little game of eye-spy, waiting for their food. For some odd reason, Harry was really good at this game, always picking the hardest of objects to point out, always stumping a frustrated Y/N.

“You’re cheating.”

“How the fuck am I cheating?”

“Dunno, you just are.”

And in retaliation to her accusation, Harry pointed to her shirt, stating she got a little soda on it, causing her to look down to her chest and see nothing but finger as he flicked her nose. “Too easy. Sore loser.”

Y/N huffed, sticking her tongue out at him. The playful banter between them was the best part of their days lately. Before Y/N even realized her feelings for Harry, she always looked forward to what they would bicker about -- in a friendly matter of course. Now, she constitutes that to just wanting to see him because she really enjoys his company, and him.

It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way about anyone, and she’s sort of glad she gets to feel this way about Harry. He’s an enigma, but a good one. She’s totally transfixed by him and she never wants this euphoria to end. He radiates this bright and bubbly energy that lifts her mood whenever she’s around him, and she’s afraid of losing that. But, she chooses not to dwell on the what-if, instead completely basking in the present and his gooey aura of happiness.

When the food finally came out, they both were quick to stuff their faces, their stomachs practically turning inside-out from how hungry they were. It came to no surprise to Harry that he was absolutely in love with this Hawaiian slice, already looking forward to ordering two more.

Y/N looked at him a tad worried. He was scoffing down three slices as if there were no tomorrow, all within a matter of two minutes. She was slightly worried he was going to reach over and take her dinner, because that’s how hungry he seemed to be. But, he should know better than to get between Y/N and her food. Like the one time he tried to take some of her fries, to which she punched him in the shoulder and then took them back.

“Hey, y’gonna eat that?” He points to her not yet touched slice of pizza, earning a glare that could kill in response. “Cool, you are, just making sure. Can’t let precious food go t’waste. It’s my turn for a question right?”

Y/N thinks back for a second to determine if he’s right or not, remembering she did ask a question last. She nodded her head before biting into her little piece of heaven.

“Was it hard getting back in the water?”

She brought her napkin up to her mouth to wipe away the drop of sauce she felt on her cheek, mulling over her answer. “Kinda. I knew I had to eventually because it’s all I know, it was just a matter of when. My parents were terrified, and I mean I was too but I can’t let that dictate my future. I love surfing and nothing is going to take that away from me.”

Not even something as horrifying as death could take her away from her true love. Not until she’s truly six-feet under, riding silver waves in the silver palace.

“Do you think you’re going to stay here? In Hawaii?” Y/N wondered, taking a sip of her Coke.

“Got nowhere else to be,” he shrugged, mindlessly tapping his fingers on the table in an arrhythmic pattern. “Home is where the heart is, right? Well, think mine’s here right now.” Across from her. Just for her.

Home is where the heart is.

“Does it count if my heart isn’t mine?”

Last year, Y/N was going about her day like she always did. She was fine, in tip-top shape just like she had been for the past twenty years of her life. The bright sun was out and shining over all of the surfers and onlookers, and it seemed just like every other regular day. She was paddling out into the water, and the perfect, golden first wave was approaching her. She pushed herself up onto her feet, balancing her body, in tune with the wave, executing a nearly perfect opener. Then, she felt her chest tighten and her body suddenly felt weak. Breathing rapidly grew difficult, causing her to instantly panic. She fell off her board, plummeting into the water, trying to gasp for air but choking on the sea that swimmed down her throat.

Feeling herself sink as her chest was on fire was the last she remembered. The baby blue sky blended into black and that was it. Her life was over.

Kalani was the one who went in after her, screaming for help as her best friend was blue in the face and not moving.

Y/N suffered a heart attack. Apparently, she had a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that went unnoticed all her life. On this day, her heart had thickened extensively, making it difficult to pump blood to the rest of her body. The strain on her heart caused it to give out, right when she was feeling the high of riding a solid wave. She was pronounced dead for a total of forty-five seconds before EMT could revive her. Supposedly she’s lucky to be alive, because if not treated basically instantly, there’s a slim chance of survival. But, she was able to stick it out until the hospital.

Her heart was in brutal shape, so she was sent to the top of a donor waiting list. Y/N and her family are forever grateful for the team of doctors and nurses that stuck by her side, knowing she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Or her sheer luck.

Y/N felt a little crazy for feeling so comfortable spilling all of this information so suddenly to Harry, but at the same time she didn’t. And the best part about it is that none of it seems to freak Harry out. Nothing about who she is or how she is scares him. And that’s what makes her feel so comfortable. “My scar, it’s from a heart transplant. I had a heart condition all my life apparently. Then suddenly one day, it couldn’t handle it anymore, so it gave out. A girl named Shauna’s heart is keeping me alive right now.”

Harry didn’t blink for a whole minute.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to come up with something, anything to say to the girl across from him. But, he had nothing. He didn’t know what to say.

His silence was a little concerning to Y/N, making her wish she could just be swallowed whole by the ground below her. Was it too soon to drop the HT bomb? He was bound to find out eventually, and she figured it was best to rip the bandaid off on her own time rather than someone else telling him or him looking it up on Google.

She’s kicking herself over it.

Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his water before licking his lips and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Y/N merely shrugged, “Don’t be. Shit happens. Who knows, if it never happened we may not be here now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his signature small smirk back on his face in its usual spot. He raised his glass, leaning it forward a bit toward her, stating, “Cheers to that, babe.” She raised her own glass and clinked it against his, a smile on her lips as she sucked up the remaining bit of her soda through her straw. She’s happy he didn’t turn and run away.

Cheers to that, babe.

By the time they both filled their guts to the point of feeling overstuffed, mindlessly chatting and spending time together, it was already past ten o’clock. The time had passed them by like it was nothing, but they weren’t necessarily complaining. The older couple next to them were though. Y/N had to pull Harry out of the restaurant before he bit the woman’s head off for how rude she was. That’s when they knew it was time to skedaddle.

Then they just drove around for another hour before Harry figured it was time to bring her home, much to his dismay. But, when her head lolled against the passenger seat headrest and her eyes would softly shut in exhaustion. He wanted desperately to reach over and tuck the loose strand of hair that fell out of her ponytail, behind her ear. He wanted to reach over and place his hand on her thigh as they drove down the highway, softly squeezing her skin before teasingly inching up towards her hidden gem.

Is it too soon to be in love?

It was like a slap in the face when Harry parked in front of her house. Reality stuck its nose into their little wonderland bubble, and unfortunately, they couldn’t push it back out.

Harry hopped out of his seat, unfastening her board from the trunk and tucking it under his arm as they walked side-by-side to her front door. He gently placed it down where he had initially found it earlier on, tucking his lips into his mouth as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I uh… I guess this is it. I had a really ni-”

“I’ve got one more question before you leave me,” he interrupted her little speech, stepping impossibly closer to her, barricading her between him and the banister on her porch. It wasn’t hard to notice the long stares at her shiny lips that glinted in the dull yellow glow of the light by the door. He purposely took extra time to rake over the features of her face before finally meeting her eyes.

Y/N swallowed nothing but air as she softly bit at her bottom lip, “Yeah?”

She already knew his question.

“Can I kiss you?”

He already knew her answer.

Y/N slyly looked at him, bringing her hands up, a bit hesitant to rest on his shoulders. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Sky’s blue.” Y/N looks up at the sky and notices it’s dark blue hue, twinkling stars layers on top, surrounding the fullest, brightest moon. It was a beautiful sky, perfect to share a first kiss under.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his hands came up to her hips. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the climactic moment to overcome them, the air of the night chilling up her spine.

But, then she felt fiery, red hot as their lips locked together in a soft kiss. It was as soft as they felt towards one another. This giddy, slow paced, admiring kiss that had their insides melting but their hearts pounding. This kiss is exactly how Y/N images Harry. A pale yellow that’s not harsh on the eyes, that resonates happiness. Harry imagines it as a hot pink, one that takes his breath away and captures his mind.

It wasn’t long before it turned heated, Harry’s tongue sweeping into her mouth, and one of his hands travelling further south to grab hold of the flesh of her behind. Y/N let out a soft moan into his mouth as her hands tangled into his mound of curls, tugging softly on his roots.

Then the disturbing image of either one of her parents opening the front door at any moment flashed across her eyes, causing her to pull back, kissing his bottom lip softly before trailing her thumb over the swollen skin and opening her eyes to look into his gaudy, green ones.

The sounds of their breaths mingled together as tired smiles adorned their faces, little giggles leaving each of their mouths as they basked in what just happened. All Harry could think was, ‘It’s about damn time.’ All Y/N could think was, ‘Why did I ever push him away?’

“My turn,” she spoke after a few moments, standing up straighter and fixing her shirt around her body. “Pick me up tomorrow?”

A wide, shit-eating grin spread out across Harry’s face as he ran his hand through his mangled curls. “Sunrise. If y’not in this exact spot in the morning, m’knocking the door down and dragging you out by y’hair.” He hopped down off the porch, completely skipping the steps as the adrenaline of their first kiss kicked into his system.

“Sunrise,” she agreed.

He hopped back into the driver’s side of his Jeep, throwing his hand up in a goodbye wave as he sped away, already counting down the seconds until he would see his golden ray of bright and bubbly sunshine again. He’s not so sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep.

Y/N didn’t have that same problem. The moment she landed on her bed, her eyes shut faster than the speed of light, her last conscious thought being of Harry. Her smile never leaving her face.

❊ ❊

Meeting at sunrise had become part of their routine. Not always to surf, but just to be together. Sometimes they surfed at their little alcove, other times they would watch the sun from her backyard, snuggled up in blankets on the beach. Or, they would surf, get breakfast, then fall back asleep in his bed until a more decent hour of morning.

But, their day always began at sunrise. It would be the equivalent to say that it also ended at sunset, but sunset was always too soon to part ways.

This wasn’t an everyday occurrence, mostly at random. Except for Sundays. Sundays are specifically their day, as per request of Harry. How could he be in love with a girl that coined yellow as her color, that had a smile as bright as the huge burning star, that claimed golden hour was prime sun time, and not deem Sunday as their day? He didn’t put any second thought into it.

Despite their sort of fast paced first date, they’ve been taking things slow, truly getting used to the feel of one another over the course of the next couple of months. It wasn’t until a month later that Harry popped the question, officially making Y/N his forever buddy-buddy. Well, not necessarily forever, but they both know it’s basically forever.

Harry never wants to be alone again.

It wasn’t until the night after they became official that Y/N finally took her shirt off in front of him. She was going through one of her episodes, and Harry was the only one around who could help her. He managed to calm her down and bring her inside her house - that was empty because her parents had gone out for the night - and get her to the bathroom so she could take a shower.

Initially, he was going to let her get in by herself, knowing her boundaries in regards to her body and not seeing it. But, when he saw how worn down she looked, he whispered words of reassurance in her ear, asking her permission to help get her in the shower. He wasn’t thinking with his dick, he just wanted to help the girl that didn’t know how to help herself.

Y/N looked him in the eyes, nibbling softly on her bottom lip before averting her attention to her chest for a few moments. She trusts him, and if they’re bound to work out, she needs him to be comfortable with seeing all aspects of her both mentally and physically. Which includes her scar.

So, she nods her head in agreement.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to remove her shirt, immediately feeling self-conscious. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear, going into the shower to avoid any lingering stares. Harry was quick to follow behind her, shutting the curtain after him. That’s when Y/N turned around and completely broke down, the tears that have been building behind her eyes finally pouring out. Harry wrapped her in his arms, letting her cry her eyes out for however long she needed.

When she stopped, Harry washed her hair, washed her body, washed away her bad thoughts, then washed himself as fast as he could so he could get her into her bed for the night. She snuggled up to his side, enjoying the warmness of his body that contrasted her cool ones.

That night when her parents came home, they spotted Harry’s Jeep in front of their house. Though when the house was eerily quiet, and found the door to her bedroom slightly ajar, they peeked inside and saw the two of them fast asleep. Parents usually would get angry at the sight of their child in bed with someone of a different gender, but not Y/N’s parents.

Over the last two months, they saw their daughter break back out of her shell, slowly returning to her former self, and all because of Harry. They saw how happy she became whenever he was around, or they’d overheard happy she was when just talking about him to Kalani. How could they ever get angry at the fact that Y/N was happy?

With the blossoming of their relationship taking place at the same time as the Vans Triple Crown, word got around fast and soon enough they were the star couple leading the ranks in their respective divisions. The world -- or really the surfing world, because no one really pays attention to professional surfers, was in awe of them. They were the hype of the news, of the town, of the state. Rightfully so, because they’re awfully cute.

It came as no surprise to everyone when the two were crowned the champions. The press went wild with this one, stating there was some scam happening behind the scenes, because what were the odds that this new star couple could both win? Or, how could Harry, a newbie, shoot his way up to the top in just one year? Or, how could Y/N dominate with her physical ailments?

There wasn’t a hoax and there wasn’t any cheating. They both were just that good.

The day of the final competition, they may have worked just a little harder to land the championship title. Harry had picked Y/N up and they traveled to their secret hideaway bright and early in the morning. After being out at a party the night before, the two were in no shape to get in the water already, opting to snooze under the shade of a cliff on the beach for a little while.

They didn’t sleep for very long before they got wrapped up in one another, indulging in a morning session of intimate love. They slept for maybe an hour before Y/N was ready to get her swim on, but Harry was the biggest sack of lazy mush that morning. He didn’t want to get up for nothing. He was laying down on his surfboard, completely comfortable under the shade. Y/N tried tugging on his arms to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge, a half-sleepy and dazed smile on his lips.

At one point he tugged her back, causing her to land on his lap, legs straddling his hips as her face crashed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her back, securing him to her as he said, “See? Isn’t this so much better than physical activity?”

“C’mon tubby, we got shit to do,” Y/N giggled, but Harry just held onto her tighter and nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head.

He hummed, “S’comfortable here.”

Y/N didn’t know what else to do, so the only maneuver left was bribery. Harry’s no different than any guy in the sense that once sex is brought into the mix, his ears perk up and his dick stiffens. So, Y/N was going to use that to her advantage. “If you get up, you can fuck me all night tonight.”

Harry was quick to sit up, her still in his lap, eyes squinted in suspicion. Y/N bit her lip to refrain from laughing, but she was mentally patting herself on the back. His hands shifted down her back to grab onto the flash of her behind, pulling her center closer to his and building up a bit of friction. “How about right now and tonight?”

“I can’t be exhausted for today, H,” Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to get herself off his lap, but he kept her grounded.

“You don’t ‘ave to get in the water now. You’ve practiced, you’re prepared, you got this. The championship is practically in your hands already,” he disclosed, peppering kisses up the side of her neck, a few across her jawline, and then landing on her lips.

Even if that may be true, she doesn’t want that to stop her from putting effort and time into winning. “Harry…” she started, getting lost in the feel of his lips suckling a lovebite right in the crook of her neck, her most sweet spot. He lifted his hips up slightly, pushing against her heat, eliciting the smallest moan from her mouth.

“Bet y’soaking your suit. Can I see?”

They only have a limited amount of time before they need to get to the Northshore at Ehukai Beach Park for the competition. It was about a forty-five minute drive alone. But, Harry’s lips and fingers were way too persuasive, so Y/N nodded her head.

“Good girl.”

He lifted her up so her back was now against the belly of his pink board, her legs immediately wrapped around his broad shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss to her clothed core. She whined as he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms, dragging them tortuously slow down her legs. His eyes immediately attracted themselves to her glistening slit, her wetness practically inviting him in. “So fucking pretty, baby.”

Harry’s hands pushed her legs as far apart as they would go, licking a fat stripe up from her little hole to her sensitive clit. Y/N threw her head back as he focused his attention on her clit, swirling his tongue around the little bud before sucking it into his mouth. She was a whimpering mess, but that earned her a smack on the ass and a first warning from Harry.

“No one’s around. Let me hear you loud and clear,” he gave her a pointed look, keeping their eye contact as he went a little further south, pushing the tip of his tongue into her cunt. Y/N tried closing her legs around his head but Harry just pushed them open further, keeping a firm grip on her thighs that were bound to leave bruises. Bruises just for her.

Her jaw fell slack, moans tumbling past her pink lips louder and louder. Her nails dug into his shoulders, most likely leaving scratches he’ll find later when they’re stinging in the shower. Just for him.

Y/N was growing restless as he inserted his middle and ring finger inside of her, pushing and pulling them at an intense pace that caused her toes to curl in the sand by his hips. When he managed to push his index finger in alongside the other two, Y/N began to see stars at the stretch of her walls.

“So tight f’me. Imagine it was my cock instead. Would feel so good and full, but you’d be too exhausted for later, hm?” He cooed, letting her adjust to the extra digit inside of her before fucking her harder and faster than before. He kissed up her tummy that was visible from under her shirt before landing his forehead against hers.

His free hand grabbed a hold of her jaw, making her face him which caused her eyes to open up quickly, locking eye contact with one another. “S’a shame. M’so hard, like a fucking rock. But you’ll be too tired.”

Teasingly, Y/N nodded her head in agreement, earning a hard glare from her lover. At this, he stopped the movement of his fingers, slowly pulling them out of her. Y/N’s mouth opened wide, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Harry sucked his fingers past his lips, indulging in her sweetness that tasted like a little sliver of heaven.

“Wh-wha…?”

“Close y’mouth, Y/N. Gonna catch flies,” he smirked, reaching over for her bikini bottoms and sliding them back up her legs until they were nestled against her soaking wet, throbbing pussy. “Said it y’self. Can’t be exhausted for the finale today, gotta be quick on your feet and coasting the gnarliest waves. C’mon slow poke, gotta get some practice in.”

So, Y/N was pissed off to say the least. And because of this, she was extra determined to push herself as far as she could to come out on top today. Harry on the other hand, well he was just mad that he had an insane hard-on that his own girlfriend didn’t want to tend to. He should’ve expected his little stunt wouldn’t go over nicely, but the look on her face when he stopped was absolutely priceless.

When it was announced that Y/N and Harry had won in their divisions everyone was beyond elated at the news, cheers and hugs and kisses spread all around the group. Though when it was their turn to congratulate each other, they looked at each other, small smiles on their faces before they turned to make conversation with someone else. That didn’t stop them from reaching for one another though, slyly interlocking their hands together.

They were whisked away quickly for pictures, holding their trophies high in the air, the biggest smiles on their faces. Y/N’s parents were cheering them on, more specifically her because they were so proud she was able to take her life back. Y/N could cry at the sight of her mother being a blubbering mess, and her dad’s admiration sparkling across his eyes. Though, with the support of her family, Y/N’s mind couldn’t help but wonder about Harry’s family, and how they couldn’t support their son with what he loved.

With this, Y/N squeezed his hand harder, and despite the cameras around them, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, the clicks of the cameras and the chatter of the crowd increasing. But, neither of them cared as they looked at one another, full of love.

Because that’s what this was. Love.

It didn’t matter that they had only met a little over three months ago, only dating for two months. They were in love. And that’s all that mattered.

Going out to dinner that night, they hardly left each other’s sides. They were being that obnoxious clingy couple that no one likes being around, but they didn’t care. Because they both knew they were in love. An unspoken love that didn’t have to be announced because the whole world knew, and so did they.

“Cheers to the love birds! And for the love of God, could you stop looking at each other like that,” AJ gagged, causing everyone to laugh before they clinked glasses.

When they left the restaurant, Harry and Y/N hopped into Betty, driving around for a little while before they decided to stay at his for the night. It was when the wind was blowing in her hair again, the moon shining above them and shining through her hair, his hand gently on her thigh, squeezing softly in contrast to that morning, that Harry truly felt it. This love that he has for this girl. Love that’s meant just for her. Her, and only her.

This gushy feeling was put on hold for a little while though the moment they walked through the door of his apartment. Y/N was bent over the arm of his living room couch, her one leg bent and on the armrest beside her while the other was trying its best to keep her steady on the ground. Harry’s fist was wrapped up in her hair, proving to make it more difficult for her to keep her balance. Though she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“What’s the matter, babe? You said I could fuck you all night.” Harry’s hot breath coated the shell of her ear, “Y’tired?”

She gasped at a particularly hard thrust that felt like it had hit against her cervix, trying to get the word No out in between her moans and whimpers.

“Hope not. Had me aching all day for your tiny cunt. M’gonna need a few hours to really appreciate it.” She could feel his menacing smirk against her skin as he again thrusted so far deep inside of her, her one leg gave out. If it wasn’t for Harry holding her up, she would’ve fell right over, too weak to even try and get back up.

They went twice on the couch before Harry helped her get to the shower, where they did it again. And then when they finally cleaned themselves, they got into bed, where they did it again, but this one could be classified under love-making. It was slow and sensual and sweet, just like them. Harry paid extra attention to her scar, trailing down the tissue with soft kisses as they softly climaxed together.

It was a little past midnight at this point, and they were both extremely tired. Y/N was on the brink of dozing off into dreamland before Harry interrupted her exhaustion.

“We never finished our game of twenty questions, did we?” He murmured, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N lazily opened her eyes, shaking her head, “Don’t believe so.”

“Think it’s my turn,” he hummed. “Do you love me?”

There was silence for a brief couple of seconds, making Harry think Y/N had dozed off before answering his question. But, Y/N just needed those seconds to collect her mushed thoughts inside of her mushy brain before giving him a coherent and valid response.

“Yeah. I do.”

Harry smiled, probably the biggest he’s ever smiled, leaning down and taking hold of her face and smashing their lips together in a ceremonious kiss.

“Sick. Ditto, Sunshine.”

#it would mean so much if you tell me what you thought #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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moonlit-imagines · 3 years

Text

Headcanons for being Hope van Dyne’s child

Hope van Dyne x child!reader

Scott Lang x stepkid!reader

warnings: insects (ants), sharp weapons

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Happy holidays darling! Would you write HC for Hope Van Dyne's child? Love the step-parents HC 🥰”

growing up as a lil smarty pants

grandpa hank was pretty proud, although he didn’t see you very much

once every few years

but he did tell you all these crazy stories about his adventures that you honestly thought were just fiction (until you were older)

“and i was as small as an ant, but i was still incredibly strong! remember that, kid. just because you aren’t as big as someone else doesn’t mean you can’t beat them” -hank

“y/n doesn’t need to be hearing those stories, hank” -hope

“why not? they have important life lessons in them!” -hank

“why does mommy call you ‘hank?’” -you

“because mommy hates grandpa, isn’t that right?” -hank

“okay, i think that’s enough of this visit. come on, y/n, time to go” -hope

your mom was very supportive of you, nonetheless

she wanted to be different from her dad

so she showed up to EVERYTHING

birthdays, sick days, tucking you in for bed, parent-teacher conferences, art shows, you name it

“here’s some tea, jellybelly. it’ll make your throat feel better” -hope

“mom, i think i’m dying” -you

“you’ll be fine” -hope, givin’ u a kiss on the forehead

life wasn’t like, extra crazy or anything. sometimes she’d bring you to work and honestly? darren cross didn’t seem like the worst guy. he even brought you whatever you might need if your mom was staying late at work

“hey, van dyne junior! i brought you a puzzle that might keep you busy for a while...and a happy meal from mcdonalds! let me know if you need anything else, me and your mom will just be in the lab for a little while” -darren

“thank you!!!” -you

uh huh, ur mom taught u manners!

anyways you started spending more time with your grandpa cuz they had a plan

thats when you found out that his “turning small” stories were not, in fact, bullshit

“wait grandpa...you actually did shrink as small as an ant?” -you

“why would i lie?” -hank

okay well cue you wanting to shrink down to ant size now it was your new aspiration

you did learn how to command ants tho!!!!!!

but unfortunately (or not so unfortunately) hank brought scott to the party

“hi!” -you, waking scott up

“what?!” -scott, jumping back against the headboard

“hi.” -you, staring at him “im y/n. these are my ants”

bullet ants were just crawlin around the place

“oh, that’s....that’s cool. any chance you could tell me where i am or how i got here” -scott

“wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy” -you, leaving abruptly

“are you bothering our guest?” -hope, watching you proudly nod “good job, jellybelly”

mom taught u how to punch 🥰🥰🥰

and let you use scott as a punching bag

but scott wasn’t like awful or anything he was just insufferable at times

“i think you’d like my daughter cassie. she’s weird and smart just like you” -scott

“did you just call me weird? mom, can i punch him again?” -you

“no no no! i meant weird in a good way! please dont hurt me anymore!” -scott

chasing him around the yard ready to ATTACK

hank had to tell u to cut it out

“dont tell them what to do” -hope

“someone has to” -hank

“excuse me? i parent y/n just fine, better than you ever did for me!” -hope

“do they do this often?” -scott

“every time they see each other but that’s not very much” -you

“hm...hey, do you like ice cream? specifically baskin robbins?” -scott

ur mom said “we do not associate with idiots ❤️” and then proceeded to associate with said idiots

scott did end up saving u from darren tho bc that mf tried to hold u hostage and scott was really not in the mood for that bullshit

“you alright, y/n?” -scott

“murder is okay, right?” -you

after that whole ordeal he and your mom were kinda a thing uh huh

and he introduced you to cassie!!! she was amazingly sweet and you could def see the family resemblance

“is this my new sibling?! i’ve always wanted one!” -cassie

“hey, me too!” -you

you hung out with her on a weekly basis, with or without scott

and mom and grandpa were working on a ✨special project✨

one you insisted on being apart of

“no, y/n, we can’t make you your own suit. you’re too young for this sort of thing” -hope

“pleaaaaase mom? i swear i’ll he responsible with it!” -you

“you’re mother is right, y/n. you’re just not ready yet. maybe someday, but not anytime soon” -hank

scott took you on family bowling trips yes he did

and just corny stepdad shit

but he went to germany and mom and him broke up and FF to two years later when you guys had finally reunited

“scott!! you asshole!!” -you, like this -> :)

“kiddo!! sorry to hear that!!” -scott, same energy

shading him the whole time

“ach mein gott” -you

“are you kidding me, y/n? i make one mistake. ONE” -scott

“you’re one mistake has caused me to live in MINIATURE HOMES” -you

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD THING” -scott

“WELL IT’S NOT” -you

“did you at least miss me?” -scott

“sicher habe ich” -you

“god dammit” -scott

surprise!! u kind of had a suit (for emergencies)

as a van dyne/pym, it was almost a necessity to know how to use pym particles

scott acted like a proud dad

“wow, you’re really doing it!!!” -scott

“halt die klappe” -you

“please stop” -scott, tearing up

finding out about ✨grandma✨

she possessed scott and touched ur face and told you that she was so excited to meet you but you didn’t know wtf was going on and you had the urge to smack scott but THANKFULLY you did not

“i have to meet her for real! let me help you guys!” -you

“okay” -hope

“what? really?” -you

“it’s about time we put your genius to good use” -hope

scott offered you a high five for that and u literally accepted it

“don’t get too happy, that was just an in-the-moment thing” -you, watching scott’s eyebrow raise “fine. you can have a hug”

okay okay well everything went okay and then half the world ~vanished~ including ur whole family but like cassie and her family took you in and you spent five years very alone and upset until one day cassie called you downstairs and whoopdedoo???? scott???????

“is my mom with you?” -you

“sorry, sport, she’s not...do you have your suit with you? we need to go on some...hero business” -scott

you missed scott a lot over the past 5 years, this really did cheer you up, even if it was just him

“how’ve you been holding up the past few years” -scott

“the world sucks, man” -you

“i can see that” -scott

he turned on some tunes for the two of you to enjoy otw to the avengers hq and it was probably the best memory you created since everyone disappeared

“wait, reach into the glove box” -scott

“oh, god, i hope there’s no rodents in here...” -you, reaching for a picture “is this..?”

“family photo!! you were little back then, i can’t believe how time flies. i mean, it flew really quick for me, the quantum realm is no joke” -scott

you were busy staring at the picture of your mom, you really missed her

busy ~saving the world~

and going to 2012 with scott

“hey uh just so you know, i might be able to make pym particles” -you

“‘might?’ and if we use faulty pym particles we ‘might’ die. would you like that?” -tony

“hey, back off, stark. they’re just trying to help” -scott

next thing u know ur in present day and THEN u actually got to hold the scepter bc scott let u

“im gonna stab you!!” -you

“no!!!” -scott

the other avengers, literally mourning natasha while you chase him around with a sharp weapon: 😧

okay after the place was destroyed u got to face mr. purple man and yo mama showed back up and saw you on the front lines

“y/n????” -hope

“mom????” -you

“scott!!!!” -scott

“really, scott? a shrek reference? now?” -you “...nice”

the reunion with your mom was short and sweet but you missed her forehead kisses and she gave you one immediately!!!! and she was crying but you were too bc damn

“listen, after this, we’re gonna have such a fun family night. i’m so sorry i couldn’t be there for you all this time” -hope

“mom, it wasn’t your fault...it was that purple bastard, let’s get him!” -you

“they grow up so fast...” -hope

i n s e c t f a m

insect fam killed it out there and then ✨attended tony’s funeral✨ together right after

that’s one solid family 😌💖

anyways time to celebrate a (halfway) return to normalcy

with your *sister* cassie and your mom and your...scott

you were just happy to all be together again, it’s been WAY too long

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot //

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Text

Sweeter than Strawberries | Jungkook

→ summary: at euphoria bakery, seasonal changes also bring seasonal menu items. when you find out that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake was phased out after the end of summer, it takes only one puppy eyed look from you for jeon jungkook to make it for you anyway—just don’t tell his boss about it, alright?

→ genre: bakery!au, s2l, fluff → warnings: none unless you count the fact that i’m writing shy!jungkook again :^D, we love mutual pining in this house ex dee → words: 4.5K → a/n: this was commissioned by @ihatemathanal!! i was super stoked to write this bc it’s really cute and sometimes it’s nice to just write happy fluffy things every once in a while (aka zee is turning into a fluff writer jfc) it got a lil longer than it was supposed to, but that’s bc i got carried away lol anyway i hope you guys enjoy!! (ps: this also works for the bgw bingo so... tyg for s2l fics!! let’s get it!!)

For the most part, the beginning of autumn is usually your favorite time of the year. When the tree leaves begin to yellow and the air gains a significantly colder bite, this signifies the end of pit stains and sweaty thighs and the start of sweater paws and chapped lips. Above all, you are most excited, of course, for an excuse to gorge yourself on steaming mugs of hot chocolate, paired with delicious mountains of warm gooey brownies.

For the most part, these are all things that often get you excited for the coming chill. What you do not think to remember, however, is that while these seasonal changes bring more good than bad, there still remains a little snag: a small oversight, if you will. As businesses all over the world begin the annual transition to the colder months, so does your favorite bakery across the street from your university. After all, summer ingredients grow scarcer as the year nears its end, so it’s understandable for bakeries to switch up their menu to keep up with both the supply and demand.

What does any of this have to do with anything? Well, long story short—

Your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake is about to get phased out. No, scratch that—it’s already been phased out, right from under your very nose, no less!

You shouldn’t have been surprised, really. You have always known it was a specialty drink; your best friend had even been the one to introduce it to you just near the end of your summer classes:

“This is Euphoria Bakery,” Namjoon had said with a smile, waving cheerily at the two boys manning the till. You heard him chuckle in amusement when your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, staring longingly at the sweet treats and baked goods lining the display case.

Namjoon had stolen your attention away, however, when he pointed to the chalkboard menu on the wall. As it turned out, the bakery also doubled as a cafe, serving the usual coffees and teas while also making the occasional specialty drink for different seasons or holidays. The chalkboard was decorated beautifully, the menu items written out in neat cursive with tiny little doodles littering its margins. On one of the boards, there was a new drink item being advertised in bold pink letters—a great summer treat!—or so it said.

“Jungkook-ssi, can you get me and Y/N a strawberry shortcake milkshake? Extra whipped cream for me, please!” Namjoon called out to one of the boys, startling the younger of the two. The boy, Jungkook, must have been busy fiddling with the cash register that he hadn’t noticed your arrival.

“N-Namjoon-hyung? Sorry, I was just busy counting the money—” Jungkook stopped short in his speech, his tongue getting caught in his mouth when his eyes landed directly on you. He had made a strangled sound, like he had swallowed his spit too quickly and was struggling to regain his composure. “H-Hello?”

You realized belatedly that he must have been greeting you, as you had been distracted by his fidgetiness. His nervousness was cute, if a little bit contagious; you couldn’t help feeling anxious too, like your heart was missing every other beat, even though you had no reason to be. “Hello! My name is Y/N. It’s my first time coming here, but Namjoon says your new summer menu item is really good? I wanted to try it out for myself.”

Jungkook nodded, still staring wide-eyed at you as if in a trance. You expected him to start... well. You weren’t an expert on how bakeries or cafes are run, but you were pretty sure he should’ve started doing something after you had spoken, perhaps ring up your order on the register, or start working on your drinks. Instead, he’s still frozen in place, like he’d somehow short-circuited within the last two minutes.

It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed his odd behavior because the man working with him suddenly pushed Jungkook to the side, a brief smirk flashing across his face before it was quickly replaced by a more subdued, professional smile.

“Sorry about him. He’s usually my best baker, but sometimes he can get a little... distracted when he’s confronted with sweet things,” the man said nonchalantly, but it seemed that his innocent-sounding comment had embarrassed Jungkook greatly.

“Jimin-hyung!” Jungkook whined, stomping his foot not unlike a bunny. If you squinted a little bit, you could definitely see the resemblance.

Namjoon, who had been quietly watching everything unfold, chose that moment to pipe up. “Oh, I see. I didn’t know you had a type, but after thinking about it—” Namjoon shot a surreptitious glance at you, before turning back to Jungkook with a teasing grin, “—I can definitely see why.”

At the time, you had no idea what was going on, mostly confused as to why Jungkook had suddenly become so red-faced while Namjoon and Jimin giggled like a couple of high school girls. It seemed like you were somehow the main reason for his embarrassment, so you were quick to poke Namjoon in the stomach, effectively silencing him.

“Hey! Stop teasing the poor boy. He’s just being nice,” you said, pointing a soft smile back at Jungkook. “Sorry about him. I’m sure you’re an excellent baker, judging from how wonderful and cute all these cakes on the display look.” Somehow, your praise had only made Jungkook’s cheeks brighten even further. He cleared his throat as if to say something in response, before changing his mind and scuttling away to the back room instead.

“I’m going to start making your milkshake! D-don’t mind me!” He called out from behind the door, causing Jimin to finally break down into raucous giggles, nearly doubling over from his own mirth.

“Aish, that kid. He never learns, huh…” Jimin sighed, but the smile on his face is kind—the sort of fond look an older brother might have for his kid brother. He turned back to you and Namjoon with that lingering softness as he rang the two of you up, before chatting idly with you as you waited for Jungkook to finish making your drinks.

“I’ve never seen you around, Y/N-ssi. Jungkook—sorry, I meant I definitely would’ve noticed you if I did. You go to the same university as Namjoon-ssi, right?” Jimin asked, flipping a pen between his fingers with incredible dexterity. You were slightly distracted by that, faintly jealous of how his short fingers could somehow manage such a feat.

“I—yeah, I do. I’m assuming you’re also a student?”

“Yep. I actually met Namjoon-ssi when we took that one music theory class together. I was handing out flyers for this bakery after class and he happened to be one of the first people to actually come,” he said, winking at Namjoon. You watched with much interest when your friend turned a faint shade of pink, his hand coming up behind his neck—a signature tick of his whenever he was feeling shy or nervous.

“I-It was nothing… I mean, your seasonal drinks are always so good! I remember your old snowman-shaped donuts with the raspberry filling? I still dream of it sometimes,” Namjoon sighed, eyes going glassy for a moment.

Jimin laughed, his eyes crinkling into cute little crescents. “Oh, stop it! I remember how you’d come here even after we stopped serving that donut and you’d beg us to make them again.”

“And yet you never did, even though I know you have the ingredients to make them,” Namjoon pouted, but there’s endearment dancing in his expression.

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never pegged Namjoon as a sweet-tooth guy, so this is honestly all a very big surprise to me. I should be pumped for this milkshake then, huh? Hopefully, you aren’t just hyping it up and I’ll end up disappointed.”

Before either Namjoon or Jimin could retort, Jungkook had reappeared from the back room with two large cups in hand, almost tripping over his untied apron string but managing to get to the counter in one piece.

“Here you go. I hope you won’t be disappointed when you try it,” he said, gaze averted downwards when he hands you your cup. Your fingers grazed each other for a second, nearly causing both of you to drop the drink like it was on fire.

“S-sorry,” you laughed it off, feeling your ears get a little red from your blunder. You pointedly ignored Namjoon’s arched brow, no doubt enjoying your sudden shyness. Without waiting for him to get his own cup, you casually tear off the straw wrapper and take your first sip of the drink.

“So?” Jungkook asked after a while, watching with bated breath as you take a good gulp of the milkshake. “How is it? Is it worth the hype?” You don’t speak for a moment, further aggravating the two bakers as you carefully chewed on the bits of strawberry in the drink.

“This—” you said, speaking slowly for increased dramatic effect. You could hear Namjoon groan beside you, used to your need for unnecessary anticipation. Even as you paused for a moment longer, you could already feel the smile creeping up your face, unable to completely hide your giddiness. “—is fantastic. Show-stopping. Best thing since sliced bread! I could live on this shit alone.”

Jungkook released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, chuckling in relief as you began to completely devour the treat in mere minutes. “I’m… really glad you like it,” he said with a wide, toothy grin. You were so immersed in your drink that you missed the way he sighed softly, hand gently cradling his chest where his heart would be.

Namjoon had taken his own sip as well, sighing dreamily as the creamy and sweet flavor overtook his palate. “Truly the best drink in existence. If I was a Twitch streamer or some shit, I’d promote this regularly for free.”

His comment made Jimin giggle softly, but his gaze is trained on something else entirely. “I’m flattered, but maybe don’t promote Y/N’s cup, over here. We don’t typically have strawberries and hearts doodled all over our cups,” he said, smirking slyly.

Lo and behold, your cup did have small doodles littering its sides whereas Namjoon’s was just a plain white paper cup. “Oh,” you said, blushing furiously when you finally noticed. Your flush was nothing compared to the one on Jungkook’s cheeks, however. The two of you refused to make eye contact after that, both of you trying (and failing) to silence the amused snickers of your respective friends.

Despite that slightly embarrassing (and heartwarming) experience, that had marked the start of your love for the tiny bakery and their special strawberry shortcake milkshake. You returned to Euphoria Bakery as often as you could throughout the summer, even going to visit it without Namjoon most of the time. You would even occasionally go out of your way to visit the bakery, even after your summer classes had ended and there was really no reason for you to be around the area.

It also didn’t hurt that the boy behind the counter was especially cute, with his big doe eyes and melodic laughter that always got your heart beating erratically in your chest. It hadn’t taken long for you to admit to yourself that you had a not-so-tiny crush and every visit to the bakery only made you fall deeper for him.

Namjoon has assured you that Jungkook clearly has a crush on you too, but you’re quick to shut him down. It is one thing to be shy and awkward around a girl and another to have a crush on the aforementioned girl. As you visited the bakery more and more, you do notice that Jungkook is more reserved when it comes to other female clientele, although, dare you hope? He does seem a little bit more… nervous, when he talks to you, but that could be your lovesick eyes playing tricks on you.

Never mind the fact that he only ever seems to leave cute doodles on your cups alone, but that could just be a coincidence, right? After all, he can hardly hold a conversation with you when you try to speak with him, always eager to rush to the backroom to make your drink.

Your visits usually consist of making idle chit chat with Jimin after greeting both him and Jungkook. The younger boy often dips the moment he sees you through the glass door, automatically going to prepare your favorite summer treat without even having to ask for your order. He never stays to stick around long enough to make conversation, as he eventually excuses himself to do some chore or another. During one of your trips, you tentatively asked Jimin if Jungkook was avoiding you, to which the blonde boy just laughed heartily at your query.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. He’ll come around eventually; he’s just nervous. Don’t tell him I told you this, but…” he trails off, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Jungkook wouldn’t accidentally overhear him. When he turns back to you, the smirk on his face is equal parts amused and mischievous. He looks a little impish, though you aren’t sure if he’d take that too kindly. “Jungkook always stares out the door, waiting for you to arrive. I’ve caught him red-handed far too many times for it to be a coincidence.”

Your cheeks flush warmly at his words but don’t say anything after that. You suppose all you can do is wait for him to start warming up to you eventually, and you hope the day comes sooner as the summer days grow shorter and shorter.

Of course, that day does come eventually, but probably not on the day you wished it would happen.

Like all good things, summer comes to its close and so does the summer menu options offered at Euphoria Bakery. Jimin had already told you a week beforehand that your favorite strawberry shortcake milkshake would get phased out as soon as July hit, but you refused to listen. You had hoped that as his regular customer and friend, perhaps Jimin would make an exception and prolong the milkshake’s lifetime for your sake, but it seems that Jimin has made it clear that friendship and business are two separate entities that he will not allow to coincide.

“Please Jimin? Just one more time? I’ll even settle for a small size,” you beg, your entire body draped over the cashier counter like the pathetic plebeian that you are. Thankfully, since you have made it a habit to pass by the bakery when it’s close to closing time, there aren’t any other patrons left to judge your pitiful display. Unthankfully, that also means Jimin is free to flick you on the forehead with no holds barred, leaving a large red welt where his finger hits.

“I already told you that I won’t budge, not even if you licked my Balenciagas. Besides, we’re out of strawberries anyway.” Jimin huffs, rolling his eyes at your pained whines as you grasp your head in agony. “Oh stop it, will you? I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

“I beg to differ, hyung.” Jungkook pipes up, startling both you and Jimin. Jungkook is usually content to wiping down the glass displays or tables while he passively listens to the two of you bicker, humming occasionally to indicate that he’s still listening, so it comes as a small surprise whenever he does decide to speak up. He must have noticed this too, as his ears quickly begin to redden as he scrambles to finish his sentence. “I-I mean, hyung might have small hands, but his finger flicks are no joke. You could break someone’s skull with that thing.”

“Who are you calling small, huh?” Jimin growls, but the playful smirk on his face tells you that he’s just teasing. He pulls Jungkook in a headlock, who surprisingly doesn’t seem all that bothered by the fact that Jimin is actively trying to block his windpipe with his strong forearms. “Take it back!”

“Never,” Jungkook wheezes, effortlessly removing himself from Jimin’s grip. He dusts himself off, not even breathless. “Also, why’d you lie to Y/N like that? We still have strawberries in the back. How else would we make our strawberry jam tarts?”

Jimin squawks indignantly, folding his arms. “How dare you sell out our company secrets! I could fire you for that!”

Jungkook scoffs, bumping Jimin with his hip. Jungkook must also not know his own strength, because he accidentally causes Jimin to stumble a few steps back, nearly toppling over one of their bread racks. “You’re joking. If you fired me, no one would be able to make the bagels in the morning because you never know how to proof them correctly.”

“Slander!” Jimin hisses, pinching Jungkook’s side in retaliation. You and Jungkook laugh at his childish pouts, but the older boy can’t hide his own mirth for too long. “Fine. You can stay. But you,” he points at you this time, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You better not seduce my boy over here to make your strawberry shortcake milkshake. I have eyes and ears everywhere.” He drags his finger to the corner of the walls, where there is—

“There’s nothing there?” You follow where he’s pointing, but all you can see is a stray cobweb that Jungkook must have missed while dusting this morning. “Am I supposed to be looking at something?”

“Jimin is thinking of installing surveillance cameras soon. He’s convinced that someone is trying to steal his banana cream pie recipe.” Jungkook shrugs. He slings an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, glaringly delighted when their height difference becomes even more apparent while he stands close to him. “Anyway, I promise I won’t get ‘seduced’ by her, or whatever you want to call it. Why don’t you head home early for tonight? I’ll close up and I’ll try to convince Y/N to try our other pastries as a replacement.”

You open your mouth to try and protest, but Jungkook sends you a cheeky wink, making sure that his boss doesn’t catch him in the act. Bemused but interested to see what he’s up to, you decide to keep quiet and wait for him to continue.

“Don’t try and think you’re being slick here, buddy,” Jimin says, closing in on Jungkook’s personal space by pressing his chest against his. “If I see that you break the bakery code and serve her that drink… There will be consequences.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically as he gently pries the smaller man away from him. “Yeah, yeah. I got you. No funny business, I promise. Now get out of here, hyung. Leave the rest to me.”

Jimin gives him one last firm look before squinting warily at you, lips pursed tightly. “No seducing,” he repeats, wagging his finger at you. He unties the apron around his neck, throwing it haphazardly at the coat hanger on the back door where his jacket was hanging. He folds it over his arm and points at the corner of the ceiling with his free hand once more before exiting through the front entrance, the soft bells hanging above the doorway tinkling in his wake.

When he’s gone, you release a breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. “Well, that was easier than expected. I didn’t think you’d be able to get him to leave. He must trust you a lot, huh?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Nah. He’s just lazy. He hates closing the bakery and will jump at any opportunity to go home early.”

You nod. “Seems like him.” There’s a beat of silence. “So… How much seducing am I gonna have to do to get my milkshake, huh?”

Like you guessed, Jungkook immediately turns red at your words, spluttering and stammering over his spit for a few seconds before managing to come up with a reply. “O-oh, there’s no need for that. I was gonna make the drink for you anyway.”

“But what about the quote-unquote consequences?” you ask, still worried that you might be getting Jungkook in trouble. You’d rather have your arm cut off than have him get punished, no matter how small it might be.

“No need to worry about that. Jimin might pretend to be a prickly old man sometimes, but he’s mostly just full of hot air,” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head in amusement. “He’ll just make me treat him to some skewers or something. He’s just teasing.”

“If… If you say so? I just really don’t want him to get angry with you…” you say, voice turning small as you tried to reign your embarrassment in. “I know I made a fool of myself just moments ago and begged like a baby for the milkshake, but I was just exaggerating…”

“Something tells me that you aren’t, but let’s pretend for your sake that you are,” Jungkook says. You huff indignantly at his teasing, but you’re more overjoyed by the sight of his cute bunny smile. You had only seen it in passing a few times in the past, but seeing it directed at you is an entirely different experience. Because of you, your mind helpfully supplies.

He heads over to the backroom to begin preparing your drink, but he keeps the door open this time so you can see him even from behind the counter. You can mostly only see the large industrial ovens and bread racks filled to the brim with all sorts of pastries proofing for the night, but you do catch a glimpse of the sole blender near the back. Jungkook grabs the glass jar first and then walks over to the fridge just out of your sight, most likely to grab the ingredients needed for your milkshake.

The bakery is mostly silent, save for the sound of Jungkook moving and assembling everything. You rack your brain for some sort of conversation starter, as the atmosphere between the two of you has begun to return to its usual awkward state as you skirt around each other, unsure of where either of you stands. You might have known him for a while now, but today is the most you’ve ever spoken to him and the tension is palpable.

“So.” You clear your throat, heart beating a mile a minute in your chest. “I… guess this is going to be the last time I have this drink, huh?”

The sound of Jungkook chopping on the cutting board pauses for a second. You can only see his left shoulder from where you’re standing, but you can see it tense even then. “I… I mean, will you stop coming over to the bakery if it is the last time?”

There are so many things you want to say all at once, but the words somehow get caught in your throat. You want to say that you love coming to the bakery to see them (though it’s mostly Jungkook if you’re being honest) and that the strawberry shortcake milkshake had just been an excuse to visit for a while now. You want to keep visiting for as long as they’ll have you—but you don’t know how to say it without hot humiliation running down your spine. You don’t want to weird him out by confessing to him all of a sudden. And so, you clam up, not knowing how to respond.

When Jungkook throws in all the ingredients in the blender, he doesn’t turn it on immediately. He tilts his head to the side, not fully looking at you but giving you a view of his beautiful side profile. You see his Adam’s apple bob for a moment, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he speaks. “Because… If that’s how it’s going to be, then maybe… buying a couple of skewers for Jimin won’t be so bad.”

You freeze. “What? Are you saying that...”

“I’ll keep making the drink for you, even if it’s not on the menu anymore?” Jungkook finishes, turning fully to face you. There’s a shy grin on his face, coupled with the ever-present pink flush high on his cheekbones. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. We’ll have to be sneaky about it, though. You’ll have to come to the bakery only when I’m closing so that he doesn’t catch us but otherwise…” He scratches the tip of his nose, looking embarrassed. “If… If you’re fine doing that, I mean.”

It feels like an eternity before you can remember how to function like a regular human being again. Your insides feel like molten lava and you’re certain that your internal organs have begun to self-destruct right after that super-effective hit from Jeon Jungkook, super baker boy extraordinaire. It’s mind-blowing how effortlessly cute he can be, making you realize belatedly that his quiet demeanor over the past few weeks had been a blessing and not a curse. If he had been this sweet with you from the get-go, you’d surely be melted butter on a sidewalk by now.

“I would love you—I mean, I would love it if you did that for me, actually.” You stammer, resisting the urge to punch yourself in the tit. You’re thankful for the lack of mirrors at the bakery, for you are positive that you must look like the devil’s blazing red testicles at this point.

“Great,” Jungkook smiles softly. He turns the blender off, pouring your drink into a paper cup. “Oh, before I forget…” He grabs a marker from the small tin can near the cash register, and you watch as he quickly scribbles a few hearts around the circumference of the cup. “There we go. Now it’s done.”

As Jungkook hands your drink to you, you’re hit with a moment of déjà vu when your fingers brush just like the first time you had met. You sense the same familiar shock of electricity when you touch, but instead of pulling away like before, Jungkook surprises you for the third time that day.

When he’s sure that you have a secure grip on your cup, he grabs your free hand with his, unfurling your fingers until he can get a hold of your pinky. He curls his pinky into yours, linking them together with a bashful smile on his lips. “There. Now we pinky promised to each other.”

“Y-yes. Of course,” you mumble, giggling lightly when he still refuses to let go. “I pinky promise.”

Five minutes away from Euphoria Bakery, Jimin sits quietly in his parked car, his figure hunched over the small screen of his phone as he chuckles loudly to himself. There is a tiny video of two people, a boy and a girl, with their hands held together. Despite the quality being grainy and warped, Jimin needs no confirmation as to who those people are; he’s always known, after all.

“All according to keikaku.” He whistles happily, already salivating at the thought of all the skewers Jungkook will have to buy for him.

1K notes · View notes

celestialmark · 4 years

Text

Ethereal - Jeong Jaehyun

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.

Characters: Jeong Jaehyun x reader

Category: fluff, au, life lessons

Word count: 16.7k

Warnings: drinking (but nothing too major), emotions, a lot of it.

Writer’s notes: it’s been a hooooooot minute and this is a lot of words. how have you all been? ;; skdjsjskd this was written in 2 weeks that consisted of a lot of urges to pull my hair out and constantly squeezing my brains for words and words and words. but nonetheless, I had so so much fun writing this, I enjoyed it thoroughly and I wish I had a Jaehyun in my life skdjlksjd hope you enjoy this you guys! <3 stay safe, keep healthy! lots and lots and lots of love to all of you as always x

Winter one.

There’s an indescribable feeling settling on Jaehyun’s chest when he leisurely looks down at the view below him from where he stands by the ledge of the Fisherman’s Bastion. He’s smiling contently to himself, dimples appearing but remaining hidden by the stretch of his turtleneck that shields him from the cold winter air. The sight before him, he thinks, was definitely one to die for, the Danube river stretching from one side to another, the mighty bridge allowing vehicles to pass in and out, the Parliament building sitting tall and proud on the other side of the river, all with a touch of snow from last night’s downpour which makes the scenery all the more breathtaking. Though the tips of his fingers are freezing, the negative temperatures making them stiff and red, Jaehyun feels warm on the inside, a familiar feeling that courses through his body whenever he got to see places like this.

Jaehyun tightens his grip around the camera he’s holding, with the straps hung loosely around his neck and raises it to capture the view. He trains his eyes on the LED screen, half clicking the button until the viewer appears, automatically adjusting the lens so that it focuses on the right places and presses down on the button completely, the screen turning pitch black momentarily until his photo reappears on the screen. When he’s satisfied after studying it for a few seconds, he repeats the process, changing angles every single time to make sure he remembers all he’s seen, forever.

He turns slightly to his right, curious to see how far the river stretches and how much his camera could capture when he spots a person who appears to be struggling to take a photo of herself from the way she’s awkwardly holding her camera up in the air, lowering it one second and then raising it again, obviously unsure if she’s captured in the frame or not. Jaehyun unknowingly smiles behind his camera, silently watching the girl continue her attempts, feeling apologetic for finding amusement in her struggles. He snaps a quick photo of her before finally letting go of his camera and letting it rest above his abdomen.

“Would you like me to take a picture of you?” He asks as he walks closer to the stranger.

You snap your head to your right and you see a guy, a fellow tourist you assume, approaching you with a smile grazing his lips, gesturing to your camera that’s been making your arm ache for the past few minutes. You mentally deadpan at yourself because this person has definitely seen you sturggle for who knows how long and maybe even seen you smile uncomfortably at the camera. And though he’s smiling at you, the upward twitch of his lips never dissipating even when he’s right in front of you, you subtly narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. Traveling alone meant that you had to look out for yourself and though this guy might not look like a snatcher that’s out for your camera, you just couldn’t be too sure, after all, this was usually how people get robbed right before their own eyes from being too careless and trusting.

He breaks the train of your inner debate when he chuckles, retracting his outstretched hand to his side when he sees you eye him from head to toe. “I promise I'm not going to steal your camera.” He lifts his own camera, strapped around his neck, “I’ve got my own.”

You tear your eyes off of him immediately and slap yourself mentally. How many times could you possibly embarrass yourself in front of this stranger in a span of three minutes? Your mind goes into haywire then, feeling the need to explain yourself, “No– that’s not what I meant,” you blubber, the desire to change his first impression of you burning within you, not really knowing why considering you might never even see him again. “I was just, actually–”

“My offer still stands,” he interrupts, smile returning, eyes doing the same and dimples you hadn’t noticed from earlier, appearing.

You hang your head low, hoping the cold weather is enough to mask the tint of red that’s spreading across your cheeks as you take a step forward to finally hand him your camera. “Sorry,” you mumble more to yourself.

He’s studying the features of your camera as soon as he receives it, “Don’t mention it,” he reassures. It takes him no less than ten seconds to finally get grips with your camera settings and as he does so, you’re shifting in your spot, trying to think of poses for the picture. You start to feel conscious about yourself then, the stranger’s eyes fixated on the screen and inevitably on you. The thought makes you move too much in one place in futile attempts of giving him a good photo to take.

He cocks his head to the side, looking directly at you now, “Comfortably. Pose comfortably, whatever you want. It’s your photo.”

His velvety voice takes you off edge and sure enough, you relax after his instructions. You don’t do anything extraordinary as you manage to stay still in one spot lifting your lips upwards into a small smile, your eyes directing themselves to the lens. You hear the click of the shutter then and just when you think it’s finally over, it’s the stranger’s turn to shift in his spot slightly, the camera still lined within his vision.

“Another one,” he insists, adjusting the camera so that you’re in the centre of the viewer. “The view is really nice. Might as well take a few more.”

You don’t protest because it seems like this man knows what he’s doing and he’s already snapping away even when you’re not ready and you try not to get flustered in the process of finding the right poses. But it didn’t even matter anymore because he’s clicking away photo after photo without even so much of an instruction from him nor waiting for you to move in your spot. You watch him blankly as he continues to shuffle in his place, changing all the angles in all ways he feels needs be. When he’s done, you’re still dazed and it’s only when he hands your camera back to you that you finally blink.

“The photos came out great,” he smiles warmly.

They did? You’re not too convinced seeing you didn’t even move a muscle.

“Thanks.” You glance to your left and your right and just as suspected, he was by himself too. “Do you want a picture here too?”

He contemplates for a second, already knowing he doesn’t need anymore pictures here, convinced he has enough saved from earlier. But you’re smiling at him gently and a couple pictures more won’t hurt. “Sure.”

So you switch places, the stranger now standing by the ledge, you taking his previous spot a mere metre away from him. You don’t need to give him any cues because looking at him through the screen of his camera, he didn’t need to pose, him just standing there was already a photo worthy moment. You snap multiple pictures of him, each one seeming to come out better than the last and you wonder how that was even possible because this man really wasn’t doing much. You reason maybe he just really knows his angles well. Nonetheless, this man was for sure captivating, with his tall stature clad in a light brown trench coat with a fluffy turtleneck in darker shade of brown laid underneath, black slacks and a pair of impossibly white converse. Maybe he’s a model? Well, he could definitely pass as one, his big eyes that radiate warmth, smooth features in every aspect of his face topped with his dimples.

He looked breathtaking.

And you have to force yourself to take your eyes off of him when you return his camera, forgetting completely about the fact that you hadn’t just snapped what seemed like a million photos of him.

“Thanks,” he breathes, turning the camera off without inspecting your photos.

You nod, “you’re not gonna check them? I’m not sure I did a good job– I can take more if you want.”

He smiles with a shake of his head, “No, that’s okay. You didn’t check yours either. I’m sure the photos came out great.”

You chuckle, “You shouldn’t be, not with my photography skills anyway.”

He chuckles this time and your eyes land back on his dimples, “All that matters is that I have a souvenir of this place.”

“Me too.”

“You’re here by yourself?”

“Mhm. You?”

“Yeah,” he exhales a breath, the winter temperatures making it possible for his breath to become visible, the smoke-like condensation seeping through his lips. He lets his eyes wander to the view before him once again, “It’s the exact same as I last saw it. Nothing’s changed.”

Intrigued, you carry on with the conversation, “You’ve been here before?”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes, following where his eyes are focused. “Yeah, I was here last year. And the year before that. And the year before.”

You nod slowly, unknowingly becoming more and more invested in the subject with the stranger. “Are your family here?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he then turns to you with a small, but breathtaking smile. “Just, I just really like it here. I find myself coming back every time.”

You blink just as you clear your throat, your pulse unconsciously speeding up with the eye contact that had just occurred. Silence fills the air and you’re almost sure the mood had just transcended into an awkward one after being flustered, so, in attempts of lifting the mood, you suggest something you don’t give much thought to.

“Well then maybe you could tour me around.”

And you deadpan at yourself as soon as the last word is uttered, your eyes widening at how bold you’ve gotten, not to mention, in front of someone you had just met for the first time out of nowhere.

You hear him chuckle beside you and that’s when you feel his whole body turn towards you. You wearily follow suit, greeted by one of his hand extended to you, “Gladly.” His smile broadens, something to let you know he isn’t kidding.

“I’m Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun. A nice name for a man with impeccable visuals.

His hand is warm in contrast to your cold one when you accept his handshake.

“Y/n. I’m y/n.”

Winter two.

When you look over the same view you saw for the first time the past year, you realise that nothing much has changed. The river still stretches on, the bridge still standing tall and buildings on the other end of the river rising upwards in same way you remember them to. It was still as beautiful as ever despite the winter weather nipping at your skin. Jaehyun’s words ring in your head then, that not matter how many times he’s visited this exact same place, everything is still as he recalls. You smile to yourself at the memory of him, recalling the wasted opportunity of him touring you around (despite it being a casual joke on your end but one he’d taken seriously) due to conflicting schedules and flights. It’s a pity you think, because he looked genuinely keen on showing you to some of his favourite places. Though he did leave you a list of places to see, you never got to see any of them with him, the terrible reminder of your impending flight the next day disrupting the chances of what could have been.

You inhale the winter air, the coolness transcending through your insides, closing your eyes in the process to relish in the beauty and tranquility of it all despite the many other tourists roaming the area, mentally thanking yourself for having come here again. Budapest was and is still beautiful, a certain beauty to it you were quite unable to pinpoint as of now.

“Beautiful, huh?”

You swear you remember that voice anywhere, even when you’ve only heard it once. Your eyes snap open and true enough, you find the same companion you shared this view with a year ago, smiling at the view before him, his dimple peeking through his cheek. Your head almost spins from having craned it too fast to see who the owner of the voice was and you notice the subtle drop of your heart when your assumptions prove to be right. He finally turns to you, that same blinding smile you remember adorning his gentle features, his brown soft locks falling just above his eyes.

“Y/n,” he breathes, the name rolling off his tongue in a pleasant way, as if he’d been dying to say it for far too long.

Your throat runs dry and you’re trying to convince it’s because of how taken aback you are. “J-Jaehyun.”

You see his shoulders slump, the smile briefly leaving his lips before emerging again, this time a tad bigger, exhaling a rather big breath. “You remember.”

You nod, trying to stop the rapid blinking of your eyes, “And, so, so do you.”

He nods too, tugging his winter coat closer to his body. “What a coincidence,” he says, tearing his eyes off you to marvel at the river again. “A very pleasant coincidence.”

You fall silent, not really knowing what to say, your mind struggling to come up with a decent response to hopefully mask your flustered nature. But when nothing comes to mind, you follow his gaze forward, thinking that maybe if you looked somewhere else other than his face, your sanity will come back.

“I still haven’t forgotten about that tour,” Jaehyun pipes up, voice clear yet soft. “The offer still stands,” he adds and then turns to you again, making you look at him. “That’s if, you’re not going to bail on me tomorrow.”

His words make you chuckle, his down to earth nature naturally easing you. “For the record, I wasn’t purposely bailing on you.”

“Oh yeah?” He challenges. You nod. “Coincidentally then?”

You smile a teasing one with a shrug of your shoulders. “Maybe.”

Your answer makes Jaehyun laugh and it gets caught in the wind that blows past, but not before it reaches your ears, pride settling in your chest for having made him do so. “Well then can I try again tomorrow? The pictures you took the last time came out really great, I want to make it up to you.”

“Jaehyun there were mere pictures. It’s okay, you don’t have to,” you defend, even though your mind says the exact opposite, because in fact, you did want to see those places he had mentioned, and you most definitely wanted to visit them with him.

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to shrug his shoulders, a small smile grazing his lips as his eyes grow a little smaller with the gesture. “I want to. And besides, most people would just accept an offer for a free tour, you know?”

You narrow your eyes playfully at him, “Not from a stranger, no.”

You catch him bite his lower lip when you don’t make things easier for him, finding too much fun in your little exchange even though you’re unsure where this side of you is coming from.

“But I’m not a stranger though,” Jaehyun points out. “You know me.”

You wag your index finger at him, “Correction. I know your name.”

“And that’s not enough?”

“You could be a a dodgy guy for all I know.”

“You think I’m out to harm you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

You fall dead silent because Jaehyun’s unknowingly become too close to you, your ability to pick up on his advances clouded by the determination of brewing a witty comeback just to win a game you weren’t aware you were playing. And it doesn’t help that Jaehyun is suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his grip firm and strong, pulling you away from where you're standing and landing so close to his chest. From his shoulder, you see a big crowd of people walk past, all too focused and lost in the earpieces stuck in their ears and wandering eyes, making it almost impossible for them to spot you in their tracks, too engrossed in the building that stood before them.

“Still think I’m dodgy?” Jaehyun asks amusingly, a crooked smile hanging on the corner of his lips, looking down at you but never letting go of you.

You blink, avoiding his eyes, training them to the lints that had formed on his coat.

“S-so about that tour? Is it still up for grabs?”

------

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a latte. Hope that’s okay?” is the first thing Jaehyun says to you when you meet him at exactly ten in the morning at your agreed meeting place. He sounds unsure and he’s watching you with expectant eyes.

You nod, smiling. “This is perfect, thank you.” After taking a careful first sip, so as to not burn your tongue so early in the day, you look around you, the high end shops surrounding the street on either side. “So Mr tour guide, what do you have planned for today?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” he plays along with a goofy smile, pretending to scroll through his phone as if the agenda had been written on it. “And to answer your question, you’re going to have to wait and see, it’s a surprise.”

Your mouth forms an “o”, your expectations rising. “Exciting!” And you really mean it. Because feeling nervous earlier was one thing, looking forward to the day ahead was another thing, and if you were being honest, you don’t remember how you felt earlier in the morning at all, now that you were casually strolling the streets of Budapest with Jaehyun.

As you manoeuvre through the Parliament Building and as you climb the dome of St. Stephen’s Basilica, you learn a few things about Jaehyun that rise during your conversations on the trek to your destinations. You learn that Jaehyun is the head of the marketing team in a company he refuses to name (which you presume must be a renowned one and that he was just being humble), that he lives alone in an apartment in the suburbs to escape the busy city life that he has to see every single morning for work, that he’s an only child hence, has a very close relationship with his parents who still worry about him venturing onto these solo trips every year despite being a working adult.

You huff, placing both your hands on your hips when you arrive at a landing after climbing so many steps you had lost count of. “Oh, I had completely different assumptions about you,” you say in between trying to catch your breath, allowing people to walk past you as they continue their climb.

Jaehyun turns to you, a brow slightly raised, the teasing smile threatening to form on his lips poking on something you had just said. Your eyes widen, mortified at the fact that you had just exposed yourself thinking about him in your spare time. “Wait, that’s not what I meant– wait.”

Jaehyun dismisses it, shaking his head lightly. “Well what did you assume in the first place?”

That was one more thing you had learned about Jaehyun in the midst of talking to him passively, was that he had a tremendous talent for making you eat your own words. Either that or you just really didn’t think your words through before speaking them out loud. At this point, you really didn’t care anymore, besides after today, Jaehyun would just be another memory, another stranger you’ve met in the passing.

“Definitely not the head of the marketing department.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“Then what?”

“A model, maybe.”

Jaehyun chuckles as you both halt at the bottom of another set of winding stairs above. You nod truthfully, remembering your first impression of him all too well from last year; tall and undeniably blessed with outstanding features. “Yeah. A model for a clothing brand, maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jaehyun says lowly, turning away from you to hide the growing smile on his face and the reddening of the tip of his ears (which by the way was definitely not caused by the cold).

Jaehyun was good looking and he deserved to know that even if it was through an indirect statement. “It is,” you nod as you continue your ascent after sucking in a huge breath. Jaehyun follows closely behind, cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “So, only child, huh?” you call out behind you, raising your voice slightly to ensure he hears you. You hear him hum, “Does it not get lonely sometimes, no?”

Jaehyun ponders for a second, his childhood flashing before his eyes. “Sometimes, yeah. But not too much, I have a bunch of crazy friends. They’re almost like brothers to me.”

You nod absentmindedly, an imaginary picture of what Jaehyun’s friends could possibly be like popping up in your head. You think they must be a nice bunch too, considering how pleasant your company has been. You draw yet another huge breath in, your hand gripping onto the cold metal handrail, the many stairs leading up to your destination that wasn’t even in sight yet, making your lungs yell for air. “The view better be worth it,” you grumble to yourself but Jaehyun hears.

“Trust me, it is,” Jaehyun pipes up from behind you, surprising you a little but you take his word for it anyway.

And sure enough, Jaehyun was right. The view from the top of the dome sure was breathtaking, the roofs of the buildings below coated with snow that had fallen earlier in the morning and the vague outline of the mountain in the distance, and although it was all you could see, besides the minuscule people and the various roads and alleys, somehow, it felt so ataractic to be here with the sun peeking through the clouds, even when the cold wind makes you shiver under the many layers of clothing you had. The view was surreal in your eyes, but how it made you feel was definitely something else indescribable.

“Well?” Jaehyun asks, stepping beside you by the ledge.

“You were right,” you admit. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

Jaehyun has been here before, but right now, sharing the exact same view he’s seen countless of times, he thinks the view had just become even more magnificent than all the times he’s stood here the previous years.

------

When the sun sets, you learn that the capital city of Hungary, is divided into two, that the Chain Bridge connects the hilly areas of Buda to the flatter areas of Pest. You learn this as Jaehyun navigates you through Christmas markets where you find hand-made products that range from ornaments to clothes, to warm and fresh local food that you indulge in with Jaehyun. Other people weave in and out these booths just like you and the fairy lights tangled amongst the bare branches of a huge tree that’s firmly rooted in the middle of the square, gives the place a homey and cozy feeling. When the evening snow begins to fall, the two of you are taking a sip of your hot mulled wine in a cup.

“Are you tired or do you still have some energy left?” Jaehyun asks lowly.

“Both?” You reply honestly.

Jaehyun chuckles and discards his cup in a nearby bin when he finishes his wine. “We have one last place to see,” he announces. “But don’t worry, it’s a pretty cool and chill place.”

You nod, liking the idea of ending the day somewhere you could relax. “I’m down.”

You find yourselves in front of a place called “Szimpla Kert” and when you take a peek inside, it’s dark, neon and fairy lights scattered everywhere. When Jaehyun leads you inside, you realise it’s almost like a bunch of outdoor bars grouped together in one place, with random tables and seats decorating the place, along with music playing throughout the entire place. Jaehyun finds a seat for you both, right beside a heater to keep yourselves warm, the place still cold despite the roof that covers it.

“First round is on me,” Jaehyun winks before he’s dashing off to the nearest bar he comes across.

You look around the place, taking in its smallest details; broken and abandoned TV’s adding touch to the unconventionality of the interior, with random pictures and paint splayed on the walls. You spot an old (and possibly broken) arcade machine on the other corner and when your eyes fall onto your own table, you realise it’s not the same as the others either. You think it’s unique; how nothing in this place doesn’t make any sense, but you like it anyway, almost seeming like a breath of fresh air in the middle of all the chaos that is your life, despite it not being the image of tranquility in your head.

You watch as Jaehyun re-emerges from somewhere, with what looks like two cocktails in his hands. He sets them down on the wooden table before taking a seat next to you on the wooden log. “I honestly can’t remember the names of these two but I asked the bartender to give me their best ones.”

You reach for the yellow one, leaving Jaehyun with a clear looking one and take a sip. The bartender wasn't wrong, the cocktail tasted divine, picking up on the fruity taste of the mango added with alcohol to which you assume is vodka and a bunch of other ingredients you couldn’t quite make out. Nonetheless, it was good and so you take another sip from the straw. When Jaehyun sees you satisfied, he begins to drink his own, the cool of the cocktail sending shivers down his spine.

“So what made you come back here?” Jaehyun asks, starting the conversation in hopes of getting to know you a little better.

You shrug your shoulders, recalling the time the opportunity of being able to travel presenting itself amidst your busy schedule back home. “Not sure,” you confess, glancing at him. “It just felt like the right place to be.”

Content with your answer, with it having spoken so much more than the actual length of the words themselves, Jaehyun smiles, somehow knowing how it feels to be in the same position, though never really knowing your whole story. “I get that.”

“Yeah?” you re-confirm, leaning over the table to look at him a little longer, resting the side of your head against the palm of your hand, your cocktail now half empty, the alcohol beginning to sink in your system. “Is that why you come back every year?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun nods, staring straight ahead before directing his gaze at you. “Up until this year.”

You almost miss the last part but you don’t and even when you do hear it, it doesn't make sense to you. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he’s sipping away at his cocktail, prompting you to do the same and no one speaks after that. When your glasses are completely empty, you rise from your seat and Jaehyun follows your every move.

“Second round is on me,” you wink at your company, in the same manner he did earlier. Unknown to you, the playful gesture bothers him way more than it had its effects on you from when he did it.

It isn't long before you return, with four shot glasses gathered up in your palms, careful enough not to trip on anything to save the drinks. Jaehyun raises a brow when you set them down in front of him, silently examining what appears to be clear fluid in the glasses; Palinka shots.

“Are we drinking to die tonight?” Jaehyun asks unsurely, eyeing the drinks.

You roll your eyes as you reclaim your seat beside him, “I’m pretty sure you know what these are given you’re like an unofficial local here.”

Jaehyun’s laugh resonates from his chest and vibrates through his whole body. “Of course I know what they are. I had too much of those one time and I almost passed out in public.”

You grin, picking up a glass and handing it to him before taking one for yourself. “Well then, cheers?” you raise yours to his which he meets with his own, eliciting a small “clink” in the process. You down the drink it one go, taking a big gulp. You blink hard for three seconds, the strength of the alcohol coming at you full force, making your throat burn and your face grimace.

“Wow,” you manage to croak when you recover shortly. “That’s something else.”

“Right?”

“I love it.”

You ignore the feeling of your head beginning to spin when you down your second shot with Jaehyun, your cheeks now rosy while the tips of Jaehyun’s ears now coloured a shade of pink. He’s grinning incredulously at you, “I’ve never drank this with anyone before.”

You turn to him, lazily blinking in the process. “Really?”

Jaehyun nods, “Yeah. I always came here alone.”

You raise a brow playfully, bringing your face closer to his. “What an insult to all the girls you’ve brought here before.”

Jaehyun laughs lowly, eyes trained on you (your lips). “What makes you think I’m lying?”

You bring your elbow to rest on the wooden table, resting your jaw against your hand which you have balled into a fist. “With that face of yours, it’s impossible you haven’t brought anyone here.”

Jaehyun feels the need to get closer to you, so he does, scooting in his seat until his shoulder almost touches yours. “And what’s with this face of mine?”

You blink long and hard, your face feeling all too warm, but your eyes don’t miss the way Jaehyun’s brows knot together. The sound you emit next comes out more like a giggle and you reckon it’s the alcohol working in you but the answer you say next isn’t exactly induced by the intoxication either.

“Handsome.”

Jaehyun gapes at you for a moment, blinking, dumbfounded. He’s been complimented many times before, but they all didn’t matter to him.

Until tonight.

Winter three.

The Danube river is the second largest river in Europe, after the river Volga. It flows through ten countries, Hungary, being one of them and has a whopping length of nearly three thousand kilometres. This fact amazes you as you lean back and sit on a bench situated not too far from the glorious Parliament Building, a warm cup of coffee in your hand that heats the tips of your fingers. You wonder what it might look like in other cities it flows through, what the views might be like over there, and if there are people who ponder on the same questions as you.

As you exhale another breath of cold, crushing December evening air, your mind drifts to Jaehyun, tilting your head to let your eyes fall on the other side of the river, vaguely making out the outline of the Fisherman’s Bastion through the light fog, where Jaehyun had magically appeared out of nowhere the previous year and where he kindly took photos of you the year before that. Maybe that’s why the Danube river reminds you so much of Jaehyun, because on two occasions, it had been the same view you both shared, a little something you like to consider a common thing between you both. The river looks incredible and the mere thought of its properties is enough to fascinate you in more ways than one, much like Jaehyun. His appearance has always been so.. alluring. But underneath all that, he was just as captivating, the many layers to his personality in the brief moments you get to witness them, a testament to that.

“I’m beginning to think you're following me.”

All the hairs on your skin stand, fate seeming to work for the third time in three consecutive years because when you look to your left, there stands Jaehyun with that same smile he always greets you with, the very man on your thoughts just half second ago.

“Excuse me? I was here first.”

You’re grinning when he takes a seat beside you, happy to see him. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he jokes, his smile getting wider, his dimples catching your attention.

You roll your eyes playfully, “I know. I’m kind of tired seeing you here.”

Jaehyun shrugs with a chuckle escaping his lips, “I feel the same way. So who is it gonna be? Do you leave or do I?” You laugh then, making him laugh with you. When the silence falls, Jaehyun’s gaze on you doesn’t, in awe of how the world works. “How have you been, y/n?”

“Good,” you nod, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I’ve been good. Still the same. How about you?”

“I’ve been well, thank you.” So you spend the next half an hour filling each other on what’s happened in the past year. Jaehyun talks about his job and how it’s allowed him to meet new people from different places, his friends who are still as loud and as boisterous as ever and his plans of maybe adopting a pet to keep him company at home. You let him ramble on and on, spurring him to talk even more when you ask him questions here and there because if you were being honest, there wasn’t much to fill him in in relation to your life. Now that you think about it, you don’t recall ever talking about yourselves during your encounters with Jaehyun. Maybe a small thing or two, but nothing major, nothing in depth like his stories.

You wonder if he’s noticed.

Jaehyun’s in the middle of a sentence when your eyes become empty, his words drowned out by your thoughts and even though you’re looking at him, you speculate he's noticed because he stops talking abruptly. You see him smile lightly, tracing his eyes at the ground before looking at you, the silence allowing him to gather his words.

He’s definitely noticed.

“I want to know more about you y/n.”

So that’s how you end up leading the way the very next day, Jaehyun letting you tour him this time, as if he hadn’t already been to this place you’re planning on taking him. All he was instructed was to bring something to wear for swimming to which he immediately countered with an “swimming?! In this freezing weather?!” But he does as he’s told anyway, at least with what he’s told you this morning that he might have struggled to find something to wear at such short notice.

When you arrive at the Szechenyi Thermal baths, Jaehyun’s mouth forms an “o” and you unknowingly grab him by the wrist to pull him inside with you. It takes about five minutes to validate the tickets you’ve bought online the night prior and ten minutes for the two of you to get changed and lock your belongings away safely. Jaehyun appears by the corridor in shorts that fall below his knees while you come out in a bikini bra with shorts to pair it. When you see each other, you both burst out laughing, the exact same thought crossing in your minds: who’s crazy enough to be swimming outdoors during such a harsh Winter? But the steam outside, floating from the hot surface of the water serves as some sort of reassurance that maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you both initially thought it would be.

“This is crazy,” Jaehyun mumbles but he’s grinning anyway, stopping just right by the door that leads to the outdoor baths. “I’ve heard of this place before but I've never actually been here.”

You nudge his arm with your elbow, a teasing smile on your face. “I’m a great tour guide, amen’t I? To have found such a place you actually haven’t been to.” You walk past Jaehyun and reach for the door, an icy gust of wind immediately greeting you making you shiver to the core. “I’m gonna run, I’ll see you there!”

“You are.. great,” Jaehyun finds himself mumbling when you disappear in the mist. He follows suit not too long after, realising just why you sprinted your way to the waters so as to avoid the freezing air. He finds you by the bottom of the pool stairs, soaking yourself in the hot waters that completely cancels out the cold. Jaehyun sighs in relief when he steps in, sinking himself in until he finds himself beside you.

“This is the best thing ever?” Jaehyun comments, feeling all his muscles relax as the currents warm his body.

“Right?” you almost exclaim, feeling all too excited. “I don’t even feel the cold anymore?”

You’re not sure how but Jaehyun gets you talking about yourself as you round the pools together, seeing many other people on the way, basking in the comfort of the hot waters as yourselves. You begin to share about your life, in the same way he did last year, trying to give as much detail as him but careful enough not to overshare. You tell him you work at a pharmacy, owned by your parents that’s most likely going to be passed down to you. You talk about your parents too and what they’re like, how they’ve dedicated their whole lives into ensuring a good future for their business. You mention your older brother whom you haven’t seen in almost two years, having moved four years ago as soon as he’d graduated university to seek a bigger opportunities abroad.

“So is working at the pharmacy what you really want to do?” Jaehyun asks softly after a while when you finish talking, the questioning having remained in his head ever since the mention of your family’s business.

You remember your older brother asking you the exact same question years ago, just before he’d left for good, knowing all too well that he’d have the same fate as you had he not eased your parents into letting him go for years on end up until his graduation. The thing was, your brother saw so much potential in you, so much more than you would ever see in yourself, no matter how hard you looked and maybe that’s why you doubted yourself so much all these years. And every single time, your doubts always overpowered even the smallest possibility or desire of leaving.

Of course it wasn’t what you wanted. It really wasn’t.

And you’ve been scared to admit that to your brother, let alone yourself. But looking at Jaehyun now, peering into your eyes as the subtle rays of the sun peek through the clouds momentarily, falling onto his features, you feel safe, safe enough to admit what you couldn’t before.

Maybe not so forwardly.

“I don’t want to leave my parents,” you answer honestly, forcing a small smile. That was another reason, if not, probably the biggest reason holding you back.

Jaehyun only smiles at you warmly, signalling he understands and doesn’t press onto the matter further, thinking maybe it was a too much of a big question to ask so early in the day. Nonetheless, he appreciates your honesty.

Jaehyun offers you a hand out of the pool after another two hours of conversation and splashing each other with water on the face until either one surrenders. You’re immediately shivering when you step out but Jaehyun is quick to clad your shoulders with a towel before taking his own even when he’s shivering way more than you are.

When Jaehyun decides it’s too early to go back into town, you take a stroll around the vicinity of the baths after getting changed, traipsing along the paths with evidence of snow being scraped off of them to the side where it mounts slightly higher before it levels off again. Jaehyun is a good listener, picking up certain details about your previous mentions to ask you more questions in attempts of getting to know you better. It feels unusual because you feel that you’ve always been one to be on the listening end, definitely not on the talking one. But Jaehyun makes it so easy despite the unfamiliarity of it all. You’re not sure how, but it didn’t matter, it made you stop and think about yourself for a while.

You hear distant echoes of screams and cheers up ahead and it grabs your attention as well as Jaehyun’s. As you walk further, you reach a bridge and right under it reveals an ice rink so vast and and so wide, with a lot of people gliding through the ice, some with ease, some not so. You stand there, watching people below for a while. It looked so much fun.

“Have you much experience with ice skating?”

You laugh unknowingly, “Why do you think I'm up here and not down there?”

Jaehyun laughs shortly but not for long when he’s grabbing you by the hand and tugging you along with him. “No no Jaehyun we are not ice skating!” you plea from behind him but he takes no notice, continuing to pull you with ease, his hand surprisingly warm on your skin. To Jaehyun, it was the perfect time to be ice skating; the sun was about to set, the streetlights about to illuminate everything in the path, and definitely the perfect time to be holding your hand.

Jaehyun leaves you with no choice when he pays for two pairs of skates without your consultation, earning himself a grimace from you when he hands you your own pair. You watch him quietly, puzzled as he skilfully secures his skates on, one foot at a time. He stands then, the blades adding a little more to his already tall stature and when he sees your skates still in your hands, unmoved since he’d given them to you, he takes you by the shoulders with his palms, gently guiding you to sit on the bench he had just been on. He bends to the ground then and wordlessly unzips each one of your boots so that he can take them off and replace them with skates. You keep your eyes on him, his brows furrowed and lips pressed together as he focuses on his task.

For the first time, you didn’t feel as cold.

“Well?” He says when he stands again after making sure your skates were tight enough, outstretching his hand for you to take.

Turns out Jaehyun doesn’t let go of your hand the whole time you skate around the rink, not after you almost flat on your face the moment you step onto the ice, his fast reflexes preventing a potential injury just in time. And it feels nice, so nice to be laughing and giggling with him as you glide along the ice while dodging other people, his hand holding yours so firmly it makes skating less daunting. Jaehyun uses his other hand to fish his phone out of his pocket and take pictures of you, though you’re unsure they come out nice because you can’t stop laughing for some reason, especially not after you almost lose balance and almost fall on your back. When you reach the edge, mutually deciding to slow down to catch your breaths, Jaehyun pulls you close to him until your body’s pressed up against his, his arm naturally landing itself around your shoulder, his phone up in the air so that he can take a picture of you both. You’re too astonished to even realise his intentions that the camera captures you staring up at Jaehyun, stunned, while he, on the other hand, smiles widely at the device.

“So will I see you here next year again?” Jaehyun asks after he swallows a bite of his burger at the best burger place he claims he has ever been to, to which you agree on when you take the first bite of yours, your stomach growling from not having eaten anything all day since breakfast in addition to all the swimming and ice skating.

You grin teasingly, leaning closer to him, narrowing your eyes, “Why? You want to see me again?”

“Yes.”

You were joking just half a second ago but Jaehyun was most certainly not. Not in the way his eyes remain on you and definitely not in the way he answers without hesitation. He’s caught you off guard yet again and you’re blinking up at him, at a loss for what to say.

“So will I be seeing you next year?” he repeats, this time more adamant. “Will I?”

You lean away from him and laugh it off casually. “Have you always been this persistent?”

“When I want something, yeah.”

Jaehyun insists on taking you back to your accommodation and you didn’t have the heart to refuse. The journey back feels long and it’s mostly because it’s eerily quiet between the two of you, neither of you having enough courage to start a conversation. Jaehyun’s playing with the tips of his fingers on the subway, his lower lip caught between his teeth, too lost in his own thoughts. He had always been one to be honest and definitely forward, but he wished he wasn’t any of those tonight because he’s convinced it’s exactly what had probably scared you away. You’re eyes shift on anything on the moving train but Jaehyun, feigning interest on the ads plastered on the ceiling above, as if you could even understand the language, but at this point, you were desperate to get your mind off Jaehyun, his presence right beside you, let alone the mere thought of him, creating a haze in your mind.

Attachment was never part of the plan.

Yet here you were, wondering what the next year might be like if it didn't consist of meeting Jaehyun and going off to places that definitely was not on your agenda.

Jaehyun stands awkwardly in front of you as you come to a halt just outside the front entrance of your hotel. You take one good look at him as he keeps his eyes to the ground because Jaehyun had found you on your last day of your stay this year which meant that this wa the last time you’d get to see him for maybe another year, if you decided to be honest with yourself tonight.

“Jaehyun?” you call out, grabbing his attention immediately when he stops kicking the ground.

He looks up at you, an apologetic smile on his face. “Thanks for today, I had so much fun. And for bringing me back too.”

“It’s no problem.”

His words from earlier echo in your head, making you wish you were as sure as he was when it came to wanting something in life because you knew, it was something you had been running away from all your life. And you were sure he knew that too and in a sense, it felt like he was testing you; trying to see if you had enough courage to make decisions in relation to what you wanted. Maybe Jaehyun knew what you wanted even before you even had the chance to figure it out. Either that, or he was just really good at making guesses.

It was time to be honest.

So you step forward until you’re close enough to him and he watches you without blinking, his whole attention on you. And when you reach up to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, you could almost swear you felt the heating up of his cheeks during the short contact.

“I’ll see you next year, Jaehyun.”

Winter four.

You’re not sure how you’ve been surviving for the past four years without keeping in contact with Jaehyun because you feel it the most today; you miss him. It doesn’t make sense at all. How could you miss someone you’ve spent just a day with, maybe at most, two days, for the past few years? Was that enough to miss someone this bad? According to your experience, yes. Because standing right here, right in front of the Shoes by the Danube Bank, a memorial created to honour the Jews who lost their lives during the second World War, overlooking the calm stream of the river, you wished nothing more than to see him. Unknowingly, seeing Jaehyun had become the highlight of your trip, if not, your year and what made this year scarier was that you were expecting to see him, especially after what you had said to him last year. And expectations always meant there were greater chances of disappointments. This year wasn’t like the previous ones because this time, it would no longer be all about coincidences and luck, it was all about the desire to see each other. And on your end, the feeling of missing him too.

It didn’t make sense, none of it did.

But then again, when did anything ever make sense?

Jaehyun had always found you in places that overlooked the river and in the next few days that come during your stay, you come back to all the spots by the Danube in hopes of seeing him there. But you don’t. He doesn’t show. And you’re beginning to lose hope, your insides crushing at the thought of what you’re feeling being a one-sided thing. Had Jaehyun given you mixed signals last year? Was he even giving signs? Did you misinterpret everything? It was certainly feeling like you were wrong about your whole situation the whole time when the sun rises on the second last day of your stay, your time running out and your week coming to an end. The days seem to fly even when you’re doing nothing but roam the city aimlessly and even when you try to make the most of the time you have left without Jaehyun, none of it feels the same. Budapest reminds you too much of him and seeing pieces of him in everything you looked and visited, only added to the emptiness you tried so hard to suppress.

This will definitely be your last time here.

“Stop worrying,” you speak into the phone, picking up a Christmas tree ornament from the table of one of the booths in the Christmas market. “Mom, I’m fine here, I promise.”

“You say that all the time,” she replies, her tone not one tad bit satisfied with your answer. “I wish I went with you.”

You roll your eyes playfully, handing the small star shaped ornament to the vendor so that you could pay for it. “And you do this every year too. I’ve been traveling for four years straight and I come back in one piece all the time, don’t I? I’ll be fine this time around too.”

“Don’t mind your mother! She’s just being a worry wart!” your hear your dad distantly on the line, making you smile. Your mom hisses at him just as you hand money to the woman behind the table. “Is there a reason why you always leave at this time of the year? And to the same place too?” your mom asks, concern in her voice.

There hadn’t been a particular reason at first, remembering how your finger had landed randomly on Hungary on the map when deciding where to fly to spontaneously, feeling the need to just get away for a while back then. And it had been your plan to do the exact same thing when it came to deciding where to go next after the first. But you found yourself coming back to the same place every single time and surely there was obviously a reason why.

But your mom didn’t have to know that.

“No particular reason mom,” you reply after seconds of silence, retrieving the ornament from the woman, now safe in a small turquoise paper bag. “I just really like it here in Budapest. It’s beautiful.” You thank the vendor before walking away and it takes another five minutes of convincing your mom you’re okay on your own before you’re putting your phone away in your pocket.

It’s early in the day, yet the markets are already being swarmed by people. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice a crowd rush past you, making you stumble forward when someone bumps against you, continuing on in their path after sparing you a mere glance and an inaudible apology. You’re lucky enough the paper bag in your hand doesn’t fall, for sure the ornament shattering into pieces if it did.

At such an unconventional time, your thoughts come back to Jaehyun, the memory of him shielding you away from a bustling crowd at the bastion flashing before your eyes. Everywhere really did remind you of him and it was starting to get on your nerves because with every little reminder came with a little spark of hope that you would be seeing him this year too, setting you up for even greater heights of disappointment.

Exhaling a sigh, you carry onwards, not really knowing where you’re headed. You keep your eyes plastered to the ground, thinking that maybe it could temporarily solve your inner dilemmas. If you didn’t see your surroundings, then there’d be no reminder of Jaehyun’s absence. Focus on your shoes, focus on the grey linings of the pavement, focus on anything but the fact that the reason for your visit might have bailed on you. Jaehyun wasn’t obliged to meet you, you knew that, but still, the thought left a sour taste in your mouth–

You get the fright of your life when you’re hauled off the street by the arm and into an alley that appears to be deserted by the public. But what surprises you even more is how close you are to the culprit of your heart dropping to the ground from shock. Both of your arms have landed on the stranger’s chest, most likely as a defence mechanism, a barrier between the both of you. And you’re preparing for the worst, to be taken away or to be harmed because this was exactly how people go missing. Now you understood why your mom had been so worried and you silently wish she tagged along with you.

But nothing happens.

“You’re gonna get run over by those crowds if you continue to not pay attention.”

You look up.

“Hi.”

You’re glad to see him but your first instinct is to hit him.

“How are– hey! Ow!”

“I thought you weren’t coming you idiot!”

“I’m sorry!”

“You should be!”

You push yourself away from him, straightening yourself and tugging at your clothes. You find him grinning at you and it pisses you off even more. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans on the wall behind him.

“So you were waiting for me, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, finding no humour in the situation. His face reminds you of the stress from the past few days induced by wondering if he'd even show up. “I don’t find how this is funny.”

“Were you?”

“Where the hell have you been anyway?”

He grins even more.

“Don’t answer my question with another question, y/n.”

“I thought we agreed on this last year?” You counter again.

“Were you or were you not waiting for me?”

Jaehyun was still as persistent as you remember him last.

“Fine. Yes.”

You shut your eyes at your confession, already planning in your head for possible escapes to run away from the situation. But he doesn’t let you because he’s tugging at your arm again, hard enough that you land on his chest again. The only difference this time is that he has his arms around you, squeezing your body into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I'm late. Something came up at home.”

Unknowingly, you relax in his embrace, the exhaustion of wondering and waiting catching up to you. “I fly back tomorrow,” you mumble.

Jaehyun stills for a bit before he tightens his hug around you. “Are you free today?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s enough time.”

None of you budge from your position, letting Jaehyun hug you for as long as he wanted, for as long as you became sure he was really here. Besides, he served as a nice human heater from the cold for the meantime.

“Missed you,” he murmurs.

Glad to know you weren’t the only one.

------

Spending the whole day with Jaehyun had never been this good and you think it’s because he hasn’t let go of your hand all day. You didn’t have any particular destination in mind today, silently agreeing with one another that today didn’t have to be all about lists of places to go to, it would just be about wandering anywhere and everywhere with each other. You didn't mind at all, even when you both loose yourselves in places you have never come across. Maybe getting lost was the only thing on today’s agenda. Every now and then, Jaehyun would steal quick glances at you, a shy smile playing on his lips and you feign ignorance by pretending not to notice because if you looked his way and met his eyes during those occasions, you weren’t sure if it would be healthy for your heart. You were already slowly melting just feeling his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, what more if you actually caught his eyes.

In the middle of the laughs and the mini facts you share about each other in the midst of playing twenty one questions during your trails, Jaehyun is snapping pictures almost every five minutes, of sceneries and buildings around you but mostly, of you doing the most mundane things like staring up at the structures, picking up random things in shops or laughing at something he had said. Jaehyun tried to be discrete about it at first but it was hard to keep that up when he was constantly lifting his camera almost every chance he got.

“I’m pretty sure you have enough pictures of me already, Jae,” you point out, shaking your head when he takes another one of you walking towards him after buying a chimney cake for you both to share. “And I’m pretty sure you’re going to end up deleting half of them too.”

Jaehyun finally lets go of his camera and lets it hang around his neck, taking the cake from you so that he can rip off a piece for you. “You’re right.”

“Exactly so–”

“You are pretty.”

You stop chewing on the piece of cake. “What? That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what I meant.”

You don’t argue anymore because Jaehyun resumes on eating the cake and you feel that if you poked on the topic further, it would worsen the already reddening of your cheeks. So you dismiss it, pretend like you’re not a blushing mess by continuing to eat another piece of chimney cake that he's handing over to you. Too bad that the reason Jaehyun is grinning so widely to himself is in fact because of the blushing of your cheeks.

When the sun sets and the moon takes over in the vastness of the night sky, you find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Jaehyun in one of the cars of the Budapest Eye, a Ferris wheel that gives you an aerial view of the city. You’ve seen Budapest from up high before, when Jaehyun had taken you to the St Stephen’s basilica, climbing an awful lot of stairs to reach the dome. But Budapest at night was something else too with the lights making everything glow in its path. The Chain Bridge looks magnificent from up there and you’re silent as you marvel at the view, the car stopping briefly to allow more passengers to jump in at the bottom car.

“It’s so.. beautiful,” you say, eyes sparkling at the view outside the window.

Jaehyun agrees, “Yeah,” though his eyes are not on the bridge. “So beautiful.”

You turn abruptly and catch him already staring at you and it spurs him to look away immediately, clearing his throat in the process. You take your phone out of your pocket and press for the camera icon, scooting away from Jaehyun. “It’s not fair that you have pictures of me and I have none of you.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss, not in the mood to have another exchange with him. You take a picture of him right there and then, not even bothering to give him a heads up. It’s a picture of him looking straight ahead, his dimple showing on the side of his face, looking cosy and warm. Even when he isn’t trying, he still looked as good as ever.

“Hey, I wasn't ready,” he complains and tries to have a peek at the photo.

“Now you know how I felt the entire day,” you counter, unamused. “The picture looks good though.”

“Good enough to be your wallpaper?” Jaehyun asks teasingly.

Of course it was. Probably every single photo of Jaehyun is good enough to be anyone's wallpaper. But he didn’t need to know that. “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jaehyun laughs and scoots over to you, making the car shake slightly, prompting you to hold on to the bar next to you. “Hey be careful,” you warn him, earning yet another chuckle from him.

“Let’s take a picture together, so you have one of us too,” he suggests and takes your phone swiftly off your hands. Jaehyun slings an arm around your shoulders and naturally, you lean towards him, even going as far as resting your head between the space of his neck and shoulder. It seems to satisfy Jaehyun because you can see his smile broaden through the screen of your phone just before he presses the button to take the picture.

It feels nice to be this close to Jaehyun and he gives your shoulder a light squeeze as a silent affirmation that you didn't have to pull away so soon, that you could stay right where you were even as he lowers your phone after the picture’s been taken. Your arms find shelter around Jaehyun’s waist in the seconds that come, as the wheel continues to spin and as the car ascends again. You release a sigh of relief, feeling the calmest you’ve ever been in so long and it makes you close your eyes, to feel Jaehyun’s warmth a little more, to bask in his presence while he’s here. Jaehyun’s rubbing at your shoulder gently with the palm of his hand, leaning closer to you until his temple rests on the top of your head.

Neither of you speak for a while, the silence too delicate and fragile to disturb. It’s refreshing; not having to think or worry about anything for now, Jaehyun’s mere presence enough to cancel out every little insignificant thing. You take it all in because tomorrow would be a whole different story.

When the wheel stops spinning and your car halts at the bottom, you peel yourself away from Jaehyun and prepare to leave when you notice the tips of his ears are a deep shade of red. You can’t stop looking at them even as he helps you off the car. “Jae? Your ears, they’re really red.”

“Oh?” His hands fly to touch either of them. “I feel really warm.”

You frown at him, “It’s minus five degrees.”

“Oh, must be the cold.”

So in order to fight the “cold”, Jaehyun insists on grabbing mulled wine on your trek back to your hotel and as you down the warm beverage, the more honest your conversations get. Maybe it’s the certain percentage of alcohol in the drink or the fact that time was ticking against the both of you, but it seemed very fitting to be honest around each other now. You also get to understand Jaehyun a little better.

“Remember when I thought you were a model at first?” you recall your earliest memories of Jaehyun, his hand clasped in yours. “And how shocked I was when you said you were head of a marketing team because I really did think you were a model.”

Jaehyun smiles at you fondly. “You’re not wrong. I was a model once.”

“No way? Really?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

Jaehyun stops in his steps, a sad smile adorning his lips, eyes kept to the ground. You look back at him, his hand pulling on yours as he stops walking. He looks up at you then, eyes a little sorrowful, “I got tired of it. Tired of having to look perfect all the time.”

When your paper cups are empty and discarded, both of you find yourselves seated on a bench that gives you a great view of the Chain Bridge up close. You sit as close to each other as possible to preserve warmth, the cold not enough to bother you both, especially you, not when Jaehyun had so much more to say.

“That’s when I knew modelling wasn’t for me,” he starts, gazing at your intertwined hands. “Getting praises left and right for how I looked was great for a while, it boosted my confidence a lot. But at some point, it got too much,” he looks at you, “It felt like my appearance was the only thing that mattered. No one knew me and no one took the time to get to know me. One look at my face and they thought that that was all they needed from me. I got validation for my looks rather than for who I was as a person.”

Jaehyun draws in a breath, “It just wasn't fulfilling. And I felt pressured to look good all the time. I just knew it wasn’t for me then.”

You stare at him, studying his features. Who would’ve known that his appearance gave him such huge burden at some point. Yet you understand where he's coming from, relating all too well what it feels like to have to put up a front all the time.

Jaehyun is about to say something next and you’re sure it’s something that will change the topic altogether, but you don’t let him just yet because you had to let him know.

“You’re way more than your appearance, Jae.” He trails his eyes on you then, lifting his head up for the first time. “Way way more than your looks. You’re kind, you’re intelligent, you’re hardworking and you’re good at taking care of people around you. Not to mention, your touring skills too.” Jaehyun’s eyes on you don’t falter for even a second and you avoid his gaze by resting your head on his shoulder. “I wish people could see that, how great of a person you really are.”

“You mean that?”

“Mhm. I really do.”

Jaehyun stares out into the river feeling his chest a lot lighter, never really knowing it had been that heavy in the first place. Everyone had insecurities and what Jaehyun had just spoken of, was definitely his. For so long, he'd been carrying it with him, everywhere he went, everything he did, feeling like nobody really saw him from the inside out.

Until now. Until you.

And that was definitely the tipping point for him.

The final push that made him so sure he was definitely falling for you.

“What do you think will happen to us next year?” Jaehyun asks softly, playing with your fingers. “You know this unspoken no-contact-with-each-other rule is getting really hard.”

Jaehyun sounds like he’s joking but you know he’s serious. If you were being honest, it was taking its toll on you too. The past year had consisted of mornings with thoughts of Jaehyun and wondering and asking how he might be doing. You were at home, not even in Budapest yet you still thought of him almost every single day. But the idea of not having contact with Jaehyun seemed more ideal because it meant this whole thing didn’t demand any sort of commitment. It was a one time thing during a specific time of year. It also meant limiting the chances of a potential heartbreak because if you were going to be very very honest with yourself, a whole day with Jaehyun was enough for you to unconsciously become attached.

“I was thinking of maybe going to another country,” you answer finally after so long, weighing all your what ifs and possible outcomes of what you’re about to say. “You know my dad, I think my dad’s been more open-minded to me traveling and seeing the world now.”

“Yeah?”

You nod against his shoulder, “Mhm. Remember how I told you it took my brother years and years to finally convince my parents to let him live abroad? Well, my dad sat down with over coffee a few months back and said he really likes seeing me talk about my travels. He said it’s probably the happiest he’s ever seen me.”

Jaehyun is smiling at you when you lift your head off his shoulder, “And I was thinking I could go somewhere else so that I'd have a different country to talk to him about.” It was a shallow reason but not exactly a lie. Your dad had been hesitant of letting you go, much like Jaehyun’s parents, but the more you left home every year, the more lenient and supportive he had become in allowing you to fly. It sparked hope in you, that these travels would be the key for you to ease them into realising that maybe staying at home forever and working at a place you've known all your life wasn't exactly what you wanted.

But the bigger reason why you didn’t want to come back to this place that had become your ultimate favourite had something to do with the past week in Jaehyun’s absence. Everywhere here reminded you of him and there were too much memories in all the places you walk by, too much memories of a person who probably was just as unsure as you as to where this whole thing between you was heading towards. You were only beginning to figure out your life and you weren’t confident you needed one more thing that needed figuring out on your list.

“I’m really happy for you y/n,” Jaehyun says genuinely but a question lingers in his mind. Where was he in the picture? “Do you have your eyes set somewhere in particular?”

You shake your head because you had no clue, besides, you had only made up your mind just there. “Not yet, no.”

Jaehyun purses his lips together in a thin line as he falls silent. Was he expecting too much? Because the utter disappointment certainly felt like it. “So, I guess I won’t be seeing you next year then?”

His voice breaks your heart because his words come out in a bare whisper, sounding more like a statement for himself rather than a question for you.

“Jae–”

“It’s alright.”

It really wasn't, but in his eyes, you didn't need to know that. You were under no obligation to see him despite how he felt for you and maybe your decision would be the best for the two of you.

“Can you just, come here?” Jaehyun asks extending his arm out, beckoning you to come and rest against him. You follow, leaning into him until you’re comfortably pressed up against his side, his arm around your waist keeping you secure. Jaehyun exhales a breath, a small and brief fog getting lost in the air. “I hope you had fun today, y/n, I did.”

“Jae please don’t.”

You’ve made your decision but you were definitely not ready for a goodbye yet. You take your head off of his shoulder so that you can look at him, his sad eyes a reminder of what awaits tomorrow. Your eyes are reflected on his and they appear just as miserable as his. You lean forward until your forehead touches with his, taking in what’s left of your time together. You feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and suddenly you're too aware of how close you both are to each other. So when you pull away, your eyes drift to his lips just as his are on yours.

And you feel like you're going to regret it forever if you don’t do what your brain’s telling you to do. So you shut your eyes and lean in close, until your lips meet with his, time standing still, bodies warming at the contact.

Jaehyun reciprocates the kiss, shifting his hands so that one keeps you still by nape, one caressing your jaw. If Jaehyun couldn’t tell you with words how much he wanted you to stay, he hoped he could express it in the kiss that makes his head spin and his heart hammer against his ribcage.

Because he wanted nothing more but to keep seeing you, even if it meant waiting another year.

But it mustn’t have been enough.

Because you don’t change your mind.

And you still leave the next day, without any promise of a next year to look forward to.

Winter five.

It feels unusual not to be in the same place for the fifth winter in a row but at the same time, it feels good to be somewhere you’ve never been, all the places you have yet to see, endless. The grand city of Paris known as the city of lights, well recognised for its exquisite cuisine, unique culture and historic monuments, but also known as the city of love. You’ve researched a tonne of information prior to landing and the word “love” related to the city intrigues you the most. The internet and travel brochures list many reasons as to why Paris is indeed the city of love but being here now, having strolled down the Champs Elysees and having followed the River Seine along its path, you could definitely feel and see why it was recognised as a romantic city. In almost every direction you looked, couples were scattered everywhere, holding hands, taking pictures of one another, sharing a laugh. Love was all around and it wasn’t even Valentine’s day. You feel loved too because you’re greeted with smiles as you walk past people, making your insides warm and fuzzy.

But there’s also that feeling too.

You miss him.

And you can’t get the image of him from that night out of your head because he was smiling yet his eyes spoke of a different story. No matter how much you try to push him out of your thoughts, even going as far as picking some place else as to avoid him, it was almost impossible because your subconscious had developed this habit of naturally looking for him the moment you stepped on a plane to fly off to somewhere. Maybe picking Paris was a mistake because now you were imagining what it would be like to see the view from up the Eiffel Tower with him. After all, the greatest views of your life have so far been shared with him. And to think that Paris is indeed the city of love... you couldn't help but wonder if this trip would have been more meaningful if you hand’t been so scared that night.

You catch yourself sighing again as you turn the page of your book, your half empty cup of coffee sitting in front of you on a table that overlooks the River Seine. Brené Brown says that “vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” You lift your eyes off the page and contemplate, letting your eyes wander over the crystals on the river that shine as a result of the sun’s rays shining on the surface. Vulnerability. Weakness. Courage. These three words ring in your head and though very different from one another, seem to complement each other very well.

Vulnerability.

What was it like to be vulnerable? You sit and contemplate and come to the conclusion after minutes of trying to recall times where you have been vulnerable, that in fact, no memory comes to mind. With this discovery, comes the realisation that you had so much inside of you to unpack, so much emotions repressed deep down and so much issues that needed to be addressed and talked about. Vulnerability suddenly seemed so daunting to you because it meant letting people in and you weren’t certain you wanted to allow that yet. You’ve been putting up your walls so high all your life that it’s horrifying to even think about lowering them down even just a tiny bit.

Your train of thought gets interrupted with the shrill ringing of your phone. You’re quick to fish it out of your bag and slide the green button across the screen just in time to hear you dad’s voice on the other line. “Hey, dad.”

“Hey sweetheart, how’s Paris?” He sounds excited to hear from you, you can literally hear him smiling through the phone.

He makes you smile genuinely, as if what you were thinking seconds prior to this phone call didn't just make you contemplate your whole life altogether. “Paris is great. Absolutely beautiful dad, I wish you could come and visit sometime.”

He chuckles on the line and you can imagine the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes appear. “That would be great. I can’t wait to hear all of your stories when you get back.”

“In three days dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you reply, the thought of going back neither making you happy nor sad.

There’s a long pause that follows before your dad speaks again. “Everything alright sweetheart?”

Everything was alright. But it didn’t really feel like it.

“Y-yeah. Just, uhh, thinking.”

You hear shuffling in the background followed by a quiet sound of a door opening and closing and you figure your dad had just gone out to the patio, his favourite part of the house back home, most likely looking upwards to see if there were any stars visible in his night sky.

“Listen love, I know you fly back in three days, but no rush okay? Take as much time as you need,” he reassures and somehow he’s unintentionally lifted so much weight off of your chest, the sincerity coated with a hint of worry in his voice triggering your waterworks. “Take all the time you need to think. We owe you at least that. I’ll deal with your mom.”

“Dad.”

“Alright I gotta go. Stay safe and take lots of pictures! Love you.”

Weakness.

Your parents were your absolute weakness, and possibly the biggest hindrances to all the things that your heart would’ve desired. You could never imagine breaking their hearts, that was the absolute last thing you’d ever want to do. That’s why you think you’ve been living such a sheltered life with no risks, no boundaries overstepped and certainly no rules broken. You’ve been programmed to portray the image of the most perfect child to your parents that even the thought of disappointing them makes you grimace and your chest tighten. They take pride in you, always showing you and all the things you’ve achieved, off to friends and family and the absolute perfect person they know you to be.

But why wasn’t it fulfilling at all?

Love was making your loved ones happy, wasn’t it?

You’ve known nothing all your life but to put family first and now that your dad was pushing you to spend time away from them and dedicate it to yourself, you’re beginning to think that maybe you hadn't been so discreet with what you’ve worked so hard to hide. Now that he was urging you to put yourself first, it felt like abandoning everything you’ve known all your life and starting on a clean, blank slate. He definitely saw something you didn't.

But where do you even begin?

“Oh my God I can’t believe you’re here!” You shriek as you see a familiar man standing by the revolving doors by the entrance of your hotel. You pick up your pace and run to the person you haven’t seen in so long, tears almost brimming your eyes as you find yourself crushed in a tight hug.

Your brother laughs against your shoulder, tightening his hug, “And I can’t believe you didn't tell me you were in Paris? Which is literally what? Right beside where I am?”

You hug him some more before you finally let go of him, eyeing him from head to toe, unconsciously picking out on things that have changed over the years, but much to your surprise, you don’t find any. “How did you know?”

Kun chuckles, “Mom called.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Of course.”

“She’s just worried about you,” Kun defends.

“When is she not?”

“Feisty as always,” Kun comments, ruffling your hair.

Kun fills you in on what’s been happening in his life in the years he’s been away from home. He tells you all about Berlin and how much he loves it there, how in love he is with work and how different but magnificent the place is. He looks happy, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever seen him in all the years you’ve lived with each other and with your parents. As you listen to him gush about his plans and a possible promotion in Denmark over brunch and warm croissants, you can’t help but feel a wave of admiration for him. Growing up, Kun has always been your role model. Not in a sense that he always pleased your parents, because growing up, Kun, despite having good grades and never getting in trouble, he and your parents were just never on the same page when it came to talks of the future. You admired him because from the very beginning, he always knew what he wanted and sought and fought for it even if it meant hurting those who loved him the most.

“Earth to y/n?” Kun waves a hand in front of your face when he sees you’ve zoned out, your food half touched.

You blink a couple of times before you’re able to refocus on your brother again, “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Kun shakes his head with a smile, “I was asking how mom and dad are at home.”

“They’re okay. Still the same,” you reply and hope it would suffice but the way Kun is looking at you tells you he needed more. “The pharmacies are doing okay. Mom and dad say business is as at its best right now. That’s pretty much what they’re still up to.”

“Mom still as uptight as ever?”

You nod, smiling, “Yeah. She hasn’t changed one bit.”

“Expected that one,” Kun agrees teasingly. “And dad?”

“Dad’s been..” you start, remembering your phone call with him yesterday. “He’s been okay, still goofy.”

“You know dad’s been telling me about your yearly travels,” Kun admits, his tone of voice shifting to a more serious one, taking a sip from his water. “How come you didn't tell me? I know you have my number. And if it weren’t for mom, I would’ve never known you were so close.”

You sigh, dropping your knife and fork on the table, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just I didn't know what to say or how to tell you. I didn’t even really understand what I was getting myself into. I just.. wanted to go away.”

“Well I can’t say I'm not surprised given I know what you’re like,” Kun says. If there was one person who had known you best, it would be him. “But hell, y/n, I'm so happy for you? I really really am. It mustn’t have been easy leaving on your own like that.”

“You make it sound like I’m a baby, Kun.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Kun leans forward and crosses his arms on the table so that he can rest his weight on it. “What I meant was that, growing up, you were always working so hard to please mom and dad. You always prioritised what they wanted more than anything else and I think in that process, you forgot all about what you wanted. So much that you don’t even know what you actually want because you’ve never had the time to actually think about it.”

Kun’s eyes are sincere and his words even more so. “Dad’s been worrying about you, you know. And not in the way that mom is, like you know with your safety and all that during your travels. But with your life in general.. He’s worried he hasn’t been a great parent to you, that he never really took the time to listen to you or what you wanted.” Kun pauses and releases a sigh, “Dad.. I think he knows you’re not happy at home, y/n.”

Right on instinct, even at this moment, you’re thinking about how horrible your dad must feel for seeing right through all the layers to conceal the truth.

“Was it..” you pause, thinking if it’s the right question to ask but Kun is gazing at you tenderly, just needing his little sister to voice what’s on her mind.

“Was it hard leaving home?”

Kun smiles, “It was harder proving to them I didn't want to stay.” You nod slowly, recounting the endless fights and arguments Kun had with your parents, getting the worst end of it from your mom. “Because I love them to pieces and I saw how much it broke their hearts when I told them.”

“Yeah?”

“And of course, it was hard leaving you too,” he teases, breaking the atmosphere that had almost become suffocating.

You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to lie.”

Kun just laughs, his shoulders shaking as he does before he falls silent again with you, the distant chatters of people in the café filling your ears.

“You should give it a thought, y/n,” he suggests, making you look up from your plate. “About what you want. Mom and dad.. they’ll be okay. Sooner or later they’re going to realise you were made for so much more. And they’re going to be okay with it, because more than anything, they love you and love means letting go too.”

You spend the rest of the day goofing around with your older brother, waves of nostalgia hitting you when it takes you back to older and simpler times. You take lots of pictures together and send it to your parents to which they’re more than ecstatic to receive, your mom’s worries and concerns easing slightly with the knowledge you were with family. Kun teases you nonstop about not having a boyfriend but his teasing backfires when he realises he’s single too, pretending to weep about it in the end. You wonder if you’d tell him about Jaehyun but decide against it knowing more questions would unfold at the mere mention of his name.

“Will you please get in touch with me and stop ignoring my calls and texts?” Kun pleads the next day when you bring him to the airport. “I want to know my sister’s whereabouts too and what she’s up to.”

You laugh as you embrace him for the last time, “I don’t want you tagging along though if I do though.”

“Rude.”

“I’ll pick up your calls, I promise.”

Kun pulls back from the hug and grips you by the shoulders to take one good look at you, “If only my schedule allowed me to stay longer, one day wasn’t enough.”

You smile at him reassuringly, “It’s okay. There’ll be plenty more trips in the future,” he raises his brows at you and gives you a knowing look, “that I promise I will let you know of.”

Kun smiles immediately and pats your head, “Good. Enjoy your last two days okay? And think about what I said.”

You nod eagerly, feeling relieved to have had that conversation with Kun yesterday. “I will. Have a safe flight.”

“Love you.”

When you walk along the River Seine once again, you notice many things along the bridges you didn’t notice before, paintings and artists being some of them. It makes you stop in your step when a particular painting of the Eiffel Tower, located just behind where this particular stand is, catches your eye. It’s a painting of the tower at night, the thousands of lightbulbs lighting up and glistening in the painting with the dashes of yellows and oranges just like it would in real life. You’re tilting your head to the side to really figure out what it is about this painting, besides its perfection, that has you so captivated and feeling some sort of way. You must be staring for so long because the man that’s running the stand approaches you and says something you don’t quite hear the first time around.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asks again in French to which you politely decline with your limited vocabulary.

The sun has fully set when you climb the Eiffel Tower, braving the cold winds to gape at the view below you. It’s all so breathtaking, the way all the lights fall into place, shedding incandescence in all the right places. You can see the river stretch on for miles on end, the buildings that try to rise as high as the Eiffel and the roads that lead to anywhere and everywhere. It’s so gorgeous that you know, even as you take your camera out of your bag, that no photo could ever capture just how magnificent it all was. You give up trying to capture the perfect picture after taking three, choosing to just stop and marvel at the view some more.

Courage.

You don’t have any recollection of moments you’ve been courageous, the closest that comes to mind is probably when you had to stand up in front of an entire lecture hall to give a presentation about the causes and consequences of the rise and fall of economies back in university, or maybe that time you broke it to your parents that you had flights booked for Budapest on a whim, something that up to this day, surprises you greatly they actually let you go. But nothing significant or life changing sticks out, nothing worth giving yourself a pat on the back for accompanied with the words “I’m proud of myself.” You suddenly begin to feel so small then, one big question resonating in your head.

What had you accomplished?

“God, I should’ve known I'd find you here.”

You carry on with your business, turning on your heels to see what the view might be like on the other end of the railing, not really wanting to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation, your distance to them too close you could hear everything.

“You’ve always liked your views.”

Still too close so you keep walking.

“Y/n.”

You freeze. It couldn’t be.

But it really is.

Because when you turn around, Jaehyun is there, eyes set on you with that same smile you can’t stop thinking about.

Your face must have given away how shocked you feel internally because you see Jaehyun chuckling. “What are you...” you can’t even find your voice because it’s as if all the thinking about Jaehyun day and night has actually brought him here to you.

Jaehyun takes a step forward and he sees you flinch, really confirming that he really is real. He stops there in his spot, afraid that if he advanced any further, he’d scare you away completely.

“Look y/n, hear me out. I just need you to listen, okay?” Jaehyun takes a deep breath and that’s when you realise that he’s breathless.

“I don’t know how to say this– but, I– I, like you y/n. And if I'm going to be very honest, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Which I know sounds crazy considering the short amount of time we’ve spent with each other. But I know, I just know and it’s taken me so long to figure out what to do because I've never even felt this before and I don’t want to scare you away, that’s the last thing I want to do–”

If there were to be a good time to be courageous it would definitely be now and you’re sure you were going to thank yourself later.

In the middle of Jaehyun’s messy confession, your legs take over, bringing you right to him, circle your arms around his neck and prevent him from uttering yet another coherent sentence by kissing him. He pulls you close just in time to confirm this was indeed your reality, that he wasn’t just in your thoughts anymore, that he really was here kissing you too.

For the first time ever, you felt courageous and it felt so liberating.

The heavens pour just when you reach the bottom of the Eiffel Tower and you’re a laughing mess with Jaehyun as you scurry under the rain to get to your hotel, which, you’re thankful is just close by. You’re drenched to the skin when you reach the reception of your hotel, the two of you leaving a little trail of water on the shiny marble floors. You shoot the receptionist an apologetic smile before pulling Jaehyun to the side.

“Whereabouts are you staying?” you ask out of curiosity, gathering up all your hair on top of one shoulder.

Jaehyun smiles bashfully, a hand flying upwards to rub his nape, “Actually... about that.”

“What?” You squint your eyes at him.

“I don’t know yet.”

“What do you mean you don’t know yet?”

Jaehyun swipes his tongue over his lower lip and stuffs his balled palms into the pockets of his wet jeans. “Well, this is actually the fifth country I've been to the past two weeks and I was gonna stop looking for you here–” he purses his lips to stop. “I, I must have forgotten to book myself a hotel and the airlines apparently lost my luggage today.”

You gaze at him in awe, droplets of water dripping down the side of his face, your body warm and your insides even warmer. You can’t suppress the smile that’s getting bigger on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You are one crazy man, Jaehyun.”

But as crazy as he is, you give him shelter for the night, pulling him by the hand to your hotel room. If Jaehyun liked to steal glances at you before, he surely loved to stare at you now, even as you’re using the hairdryer to dry his clothes. You don’t reciprocate his gaze because he was currently half naked with a towel wrapped around his waist. It takes another thirty minutes for his clothes to dry, just enough time for you to finally breathe now that he isn’t smiling at you.

Jaehyun had suggested to take the sofa for the night and you’re quick to say no when you realise that the sofa is literally half his height. His would suffer in the morning having to compromise his height like that the whole night. So that’s how you end up face to face with him on your single bed, faces and bodies just inches away from each other’s, warm and cozy under the sheets. He’s playing with strands of your hair (that has since dried) and it almost lulls you to sleep, if it weren’t for everything you wanted to say to him.

“I think I finally know what I want to do, Jae,” you mumble, your lids closed as he continues the ministrations of his fingers on your hair.

“Yeah? Enlighten me.”

“I want to paint.”

Memories of your childhood replay in your head, the long forgotten hobby re-igniting a spark of passion within you. No wonder the painting by the river earlier captivated you so much, it reminded you of something you had once felt so passionate about.

When Jaehyun doesn’t say anything and when he stops playing with your hair, you open your eyes to find him smiling at you, dimples showing, gaze on you soft, his happiness for you literally written on his face. So you scoot closer just as he welcomes you into his arms, feeling like you’re right in the place you’re meant to be.

“You are amazing,” he breathes.

“It’s taken me twenty five years to figure out what I want to do with my life Jae, what part of that is amazing?” you muse, tracing your index finger on his forehead to swipe a piece of hair away.

“And it’s taken me twenty six years to figure out what I want in mine,” Jaehyun chuckles. “That’s one year later than you. I think you’re doing a pretty great job y/n.”

You stare up at him, let your eyes linger on every single one of his features, your finger tracing the soft of his skin. He was even more beautiful up close. Jaehyun watches you closely, studying your expression of awe. Little do you know he had the exact same thoughts as you having you this close to him.

“Jae can we talk about what you said in the tower earlier?”

Jaehyun avoids your gaze and rests his forehead on yours, cuddling you even closer. “Please don’t remind me. That was not how I intended to confess, I swear.”

“But was it true? That you’re, you’re?”

“Yeah, it’s true. I am.”

“Jae look at me,” you say, cupping his cheek. “Please?”

So he opens his eyes and for a brief moment, you swear you see his pupils dilate when he gazes at you. Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun finally finishes off what he had started earlier but not before seeking approval from your eyes which he receives almost immediately.

“I realised that what I've wanted my whole life was to be understood, y/n, just for someone, anyone, to really see me. And I didn’t even realise I wanted that until you saw right through me.” Jaehyun was definitely something else.

“Remember what you said to me last year by the river? That I was so much more than my appearance, that I was way more than what people perceived me to be? I, I didn’t know I needed to hear that until I did. And that’s when I knew, you ripped the words right out of my mouth because finally, someone understood.” Jaehyun smiles softly at you, eyes unmoving the whole time he speaks.

“Someone finally saw me,” he finishes. “You saw me.”

In the silence of your thoughts and in the comfort of Jaehyun’s confession, you let yourself be brave one more time and allow yourself to fall, fall for the beautiful person he is through and through.

The word vulnerable reappears in your head along with the memory of Jaehyun asking the right questions to lead you to what you’ve learned about yourself in the past couple of weeks, maybe even the past few years. With every question came with some sort of an answer that led you closer to discovering just what you might really want in your life. And it gets you thinking that maybe you have been vulnerable before. Once you began looking for Jaehyun, was the exact same time you let him in.

You kept looking for him everywhere because with him, everything seemed to make more sense.

And even though you didn’t have the right words to tell him that for now, you hope that your lips would suffice for now, leaning upwards to catch his soft lips with yours, silently letting him know you felt the same way.

No words would be enough to describe how alive you feel, how alive Jaehyun makes you feel, awakening parts of you that have slept for far too long.

“Come back to Korea with me,” Jaehyun murmurs when you pull away, keeping yourself warm and safe in his embrace. “My friend’s getting married and I need a date. I want you to be my date.”

You laugh heartily, the sound echoing in the room.

“I would love to be your date, Jae.”

You were definitely not returning home just yet.

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antiloreolympus · 3 years

Text

10 Anti LO Asks

1. Are death gods like a class lower than Olympian gods? Minthe says that Hades can buy all the suits in the world and still stink of death and Apollo refers to Thanatos as Poor Man’s Heremes and also reeks of death. Do they smell bad, or do people just hate them for existing? You’d think they’d be a little more fear controlling death/underworld

2. for the person saying "come on, persephone being a self insert isn't bad" completely misses the point. As a young writer I used to have self inserts until I realized that my favoritism overshadowed the narrative and didn't allow for my characters to experience consequences or be in the wrong. This is how creator's pets get made, and no one likes those because they ruin the story and take away attention from other (more interesting) characters! (1/2)

We are clearly seeing this in LO. Persephone is essentially a perfect little goddess who keeps getting powers, is probably going to be revealed as one of the strongest goddesses, and her issues (sans the two giant ones we know what it is) almost never personally affect her. No one gets angry at her in a meaningful way unless the narrative wants us to demonize them, and when they suddenly "see the light" and go to her side, they're rewarded! THAT'S why persephone as a S.I is bad

3. Ok. I think Daphene and Thanatos are the best ship. I would read this story...also,Thanatos is the grim reaper...how metal would be if he take down LO Apollo and LO Hades? Yes, I'm aware this would be impossible in the.original myths but HEY why not? RS is not caring for the source material

4. RS’s writing is such a mess of contradictions between actuality and intent it’s hilarious: 1) Hades is supposed to be seen as a good guy yet is portrayed as a tyrant who somehow still manages to be a Gary Stu. 2) Persephone is simultaneously overpowered (fertility goddess powers) and powerless (is just a college kid) to the point where she’s viewed as a spoiled rich brat living consequence-free and destitute young woman left with no options but to marry to get out of trouble

3) Artemis is supposed to represent a separatist feminist yet is depicted as foolish, British and out of the loop for humorous effect by the poss poor excuse of a comic which calls itself ‘a feminist feeling’. 4) The lack of time skips coupled with RS’s need to give HxP as many ‘cute’ moments as possible makes the comic’s progress feel slow for the reader when it’s actually progressing at breakneck speed if you go by the character’s timeframe.

5) Wants to treat SA with nuance and sensitivity (RS almost manages to do it at first) but then uses Persephone’s rape as trauma porn, a means for pushing her closer to Hades while reminding the reader of his differences from Apollo and a means of furthering the side plots (Artemis’s descent into depressed confusion, Eros and Psyche’s romance, Hera’s quest to get the mains together).

5. i genuinely do not want to see whatever reason rachel thinks up to have zeus and demeter not like each other because it's either going to be a "shock" incest twist (unlikely) or it's going to be something akin to how she made apollo to persephone and maybe zeus stole her "fertility" and thats why she couldnt have persephone naturally and why demeter isnt a fertility goddess but persephone is. like no writing choice is good in this so i guess brace for the worst from her in this regard.

6. i honestly get sad looking at old LO art because not only is all the charm gone, but the colors also got way worse. hades used to be this subdued, rich dark blue with icy blue hair while persephone was a nice shade of pastel pink with magenta hair, but now theyre all one shade of neon. there used to be choices put into the art but now its just lazy. like hades looks like a blue highlighter, and persephone like her personality is only one nauseatingly bright shade and thats it 😞

7. i feel like if at least the writing in LO was good the art would excusable, you know what i mean? and the same can be said in reverse, but both are just so bad (or was never good to begin with) that it just seems inexcusable? like at least put effort into one, not half assing at best for both.

8. i mean for all we know bc thats how how psyche normally looks the braids are just a nymph disguise that basically pops away once shes human looking again. regardless the whole thing is nasty once you think about it and idk what we expected from a white woman to begin with. she thinks persephone revolving her whole world and being dependent on hades is feminist and making a canon bi god a r//pist is groundbreaking too like ....

9. lets add to the psyche is black-coded discourse: anyone want to mention how nasty it is she was literally sold off to a WHITE MAN for eros to save her from (ignoring the fact he proceeded to lie to her while having a sexual relationship), made her loving parents into abusive assholes, and psyche just happens to be the only character who is illiterate despite being a princess? the whole thing reeks of internalized racism on rachel's part, and her now giving her braids kinda makes it worse, tbh.

-----FP Spoilers-----

10. Is it me? Or in the fast past episode were they showed one of the muses Polymnia (or Polyhymnia) they mixed her with Clio??? Because Zeus calls her "the goddess/muse of history" but Polymnia is acutally the muse of hymns, CLIO is the muse of history, how did they get that wrong? Her name literally means "a lot of hymns"! And why is there a muse in this??? Even she says that she shouldn't be there because she doesn't work in anything similar to law, did Zeus really asked her to make a POEM in a TRAIAL??? For what exactly? Make Persephone look bad?

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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moonlightchildz · 4 years

Text

The art of broken love; K.T

writer: moonlightchildz

date published: 03/07/2020

pairings: taehyung x reader

warnings: smut: creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, oral f. receiving, uhh does dirty talk count??, use of drug (weed), & angst

description: you were utterly and irrevocably in love with kim taehyung. problem was that he was your best friend’s ex.

word count: 21.2k (whoops)

His lips are roaming the crook of your neck, tongue sweeping your skin. His hands are placed on the wall that you’re backed into, eyes watching you as you begin to lose yourself into his touch. You’re mewling at just the sensation of his mouth on your skin, hands beginning to tangle themselves into his long, wavy hair. His wet kisses start to trail up your neck, kissing the side of your mouth as you giggle, eyes opening to finally see him.

“Taehyung,” you pull him closer, noses nudging against each other’s. He hasn’t kissed you yet and you’re becoming a tad bit crazier as each second passes since you need to kiss him at this point.

“I love you,” he whispers it out against your mouth, fingers encasing your mouth to keep you close to him. Your eyes widen, fingers becoming numb. “I love you.”

And before you could utter those same words out to him, you woke up.

“Holy fuck,” you panted out heavily, hands trembling as you tried to get yourself together. You glanced around your bedroom, noting that it’s past three am and you feel those familiar tears paint your face once again.

You did not just have a wet dream of fucking your best friend’s ex.

——

“What’s wrong with you this morning?”

Hyejin eyed you skeptically, innspecting your bodry from head to toe.

“I couldn’t sleep very well last night,” you partially admitted to your best friend. There was no way in hell you were going to tell your best friend you had a dream of being fucked thoroughly by her ex-boyfriend. Oh and let’s not forget the part where he told you he loved you.

“Yeah it looks like you had one fucked up night,” she mused out and you just ignored her for her sake. Instead you dragged your way to the fridge, trying to find something edible to have at four in the morning. Once you finally found your culprit, Frosted Flakes, you decided you needed some bananas in it as well.

“Why are you still up?” You asked with a mouthful of cereal. Your best friend just kept analyzing you since you knew you probably looked quite sad and vulnerable right now in her eyes.

She immediately grabbed herself a bowl and joined you. “Joon left an hour ago and I just took a shower. I have today off so no worries.”

Regardless if she didn’t have today off, she still would be staying up until her shift started. She was that insanely chaotic.

“Anyway, Joon is coming over so—“

You were already groaning. Whenever Namjoon came over that meant you either slept with your headphones plugged in with all of the high volume on, or spending the night somewhere else that wouldn’t require you to throw yourself out your bedroom window. Namjoon and Hyejin were just so unnecessarily loud when fucking, it was irritating and ruining your much adored sleeping hours. Not to mention that Namjoon was also one of your best friends. In fact, you and that absolute clumsy moron were practically sibling soulmates. So it was definitely weird seeing both of your worlds just collide into one.

“I’m not in the mood to spend the night somewhere else.”

“Actually he’ll be spending the weekend next week so,” she paused, taking your reaction in. You didn’t know what kind of expression she saw on your face, but she hastily began to launch into an apologetic but semi aggressive rant. “Look, his water is gonna be out for the weekend cause he’s reconstructing his bathroom. He was already going to stay at this expensive ass hotel, but I’m not letting him when he can crash here with me. Also, y/n, he’s your best friend.”

You never had a problem with your best friend’s lovers that is until she started dating the ever so artistically, beautifully, and charismatic man named Kim Taehyung, but that’s another story to tell. Namjoon was a great guy. He was sweet, poetic, and everything a man should be but he was also careless, clumsy, and a complete nimrod. Yeah he was your best friend, but it just weird it you out that these two suddenly started dating a year ago. You remember passing out with Namjoon on your bed after your little drinking session of cheap vodka had escalated. Namjoon was all wrapped up in your covers and you were thrown on him, mouth wide open with drool collecting on our pillow. Hyejin had stormed in and immediately raged. If you could color the way her face looked, it would be more along the lines of an angry, magenta red.

She was screaming ‘how could you do this to me?’ and ‘you know what I’ve been through’ but poor Namjoon was still knocked out, snoring his problems away. She tried coming at you and you just ran away screaming at her to fuck off. By the time she got you, Namjoon was widely awake and ripping her off from you, yelling at her to get away from you. The misunderstanding was cleared up, but you never really forgave her for thinking that you could ever betray her like that. Even when she was with Taehyung, you never once tried to get with him. Your friendship with him was just that, a heartbreaking and one side love that had turned into a beautiful friendship.

And then he left without a trace.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you immediately launched into your list of do’s and don’ts. “He’s not touching my food, he has to pick up after himself, whatever the hell he breaks he’s paying for or I will drive my foot up his ass so far you’re going to be kissing it goodnight instead, okay?” You smiled rather sweetly at her, but she knew you meant business.

Hyejin was already nodding, launching off her chair to throw her arms around your neck in such excitement. Getting to agree to bring boyfriends over was a cautious decision ever since her last relationship. She was more secretive, more reserved, and wouldn’t overshare anymore. That still didn’t change the fact that you both loved each other so much despite everything. However, Namjoon was your best friend first, so any stupid ideas that she got were immediately shot down by Namjoon and you. Which brings you back to this predicament.

“Thank you, thank you, and thank you!” She squealed in your ear and as much as you loved her, having her scream in your ear at nearing five in the morning wasn’t something you wanted to endure anymore.

“Uh huh,” you sighed and gently pried her off you. With that, you finished your bowl, threw it inside the sink, and bid her a goodnight before you dragged yourself back to bed. You figured tomorrow was going to be a long day at work.

And it was.

It was filled with reports, your dickhead of a boss assigning you the worse people to work on a proposal that was due next week, and honestly you couldn’t believe you chose this field instead of something you would genuinely like to do. Society had its way of bending you over and fucking you over completely. Thinking about that, you then realized you hadn’t actually fucked anyone in over a year again. It reminded you just how lonely and saddened life had become for you. It only reminded you of him and how much you missed him wholeheartedly. It was honestly pathetic. Stop, you told yourself. Just stop it already.

If live was a canvas, everything would be shaded in with the grayest and darkest of colors. Splattered paint would angrily cover it, and to soothe the pain it would be with gentle strokes of the softest of white. There were moments in life that you knew the soft white color would turn into a variety of others, it’s just the timing wasn’t right now. And as you wandered aimlessly around the museum, you started noticing your surroundings once you turned the corner and saw a more colorful perspective of art being displayed on the wall. Every single painting looked the same in a sense, but you knew in your eyes that it wasn’t.

Each stroke, each color, each scheme represented something that the artist itself was trying to portray to themselves, or anyone feeling the same as them. It differed from love, anger, fervor passion, and distinguishable sadness that welcomed you so warmly. It wasn’t until you reached the last painting, when you slowly came to a stop. Everything about it screamed at you, demanding your utmost attention. Because even as the brightest of colors covered the canvas, the picture itself contrasted it. There was two figures. You presumed it was a male and female. One was in the middle shinning as brightly as they can, and the other remained in the shadows. But as you inspected it closer, you realized that it hid in the shadows of her colors, watching her. A hand was spread out and you could see on the palm of his hand was split with her colors, and the other with what seemed to be his.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. And it reminded you of someone so much that you felt something spill from your cheeks. Your hand was trembling as you tried to stop the drops that were falling and you claimed it was just raining. It was.

It was severely raining inside your soul.

And then your eyes glanced over at the artist’s name: Silly by Vante

You blinked once, then twice, and then finally you had to lean against the wall to sustain yourself properly. There was no way in hell this could be happening to you right now. There was no way in hell that life could be this cruel to you in this instant. But the shaking in your fingers, the quivering in your lips, and the sobs that were lodged in your throat begged to differ. All you wanted was a distraction, not a wakening alarm. So before you lost your shit, you tried gathering the last remaining bits and pieces of yourself before you lost those too since it had taken ages to collect those when he had left.

You felt a presence behind you and you just wanted to get out of there and breathe. Time felt as if it was slowing down, the ticking began to commence.

A painting by him? Here? Here?

“y/n?”

Your bags slipped from your fingertips.

You didn’t turn around.

By the sound of just their voice you already knew who it was and honestly you felt your heart and mind were just playing tricks on you. Your mind knew what your heart needed and it was simply giving it to you in a sense of a vague memory of him. You were going batshit crazy.

“I know it’s you,” he spoke up after a moment and that confirmed it.

He was actually here. He was actually here.

You hadn’t seen him, or even spoken to him after your best friend broke up with him. He had vanished out of your life the second they were done and even though you told yourself several of times that he wasn’t yours to even yearn for, your heart didn’t give a fuck. In the wake of an ending relationship, a friendship had blossomed between you and him. So in a way it was like a break up to you too. You had lost someone special in your life and you didn’t even get to say goodbye. You didn’t get to say goodbye to him, or your pending feelings for him.

No matter how hard you tried to sustain yourself, you didn’t want to turn around. Because once you turned, you’d have to face reality and you weren’t exactly prepared for that in that instant. Your eyes were set on the wall, tears prickling. Don’t cry you weak little bitch. Suck it up and breathe. It was the beating of your heart and the jitters that reminded you that you were indeed alive and still breathing despite everything. And it was screaming, ‘he’s back’ with such intensity. With a deep breath, you slowly turned around.

He was carrying shopping bags in both hands. His hair was matted up as usual, but there was now a gleam in his eyes like never before. You noticed his hair had gotten longer, strands of dark brown hair covered his eyes. His beige cotton sweater complimented his skin so well and fit so loosely on him. Not to mention those brown plaid pajama pants that he would wear every day because he claimed ‘it’s fashionable these days’ and ‘look! It matches everything I wear’. But despite his physical exterior changing, the way his eyes shone immediately whispered to your aching heart that he hadn’t.

Taehyung. My Taehyung.

Out of all the days he could show up, it just happened to be that same day he had surprised you in your dreams. It happened to be the day you had wandered inside the museum you had met him in two years ago.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

You were utterly speechless. “I’ve always loved the concept of the sun, moon, and the stars. It’s sort of a love triangle between them. You know the story of how the sun died every night just to let her breathe? Well, the stars make the essence of the sky. It unifies them, ties them together and makes them even more beautiful. But people think of stars separately. They don’t see the stars with the sun and the moon even though they should be.”

The stranger turned to look at you. “Have you ever considered that the stars alone don’t need the sun and the moon? They are their own separate entity. They shine brightly with, or without them.”

“They are uniquely beautiful. And the whole romance between the sun and the moon is bittersweet since yeah they were once together in a sense, but they don’t complement each other. The stars do.”

You had missed him so dearly and now he was just a few feet away from you, looking toned and practically glowing. In that second, you felt your body go numb and haywire simultaneously. All of these thoughts whirled inside your mind as your body stay put in its place because he was right there. All you wanted to do was cry and be welcomed back into his arms. Your heart yearned for it as all of the memories that you created with him overwhelmed you once again.

It was summer again.

You were laying on his lap, babbling away some nonsense since you were drunk. Taehyung on the other hand was just amusingly watching you, responding back to you and even questioning you more. Your best friend had already fallen asleep on his bed, leaving you both alone in the dark as you both softly whispered to each other. Empty glasses of wine stood on the outdoor table along with a jar of weed, and there was your bong sitting beside it.

“You’re so cute,” he bopped your nose and you rolled your eyes. You tried swatting his hand away but instead he just pinched the bridge of your nose softly.

“If I’m so cute, then why am I still single,” you whined out and Taehyung just softly chuckled. “You know, whenever I see you and Hyejin I get a little sad.”

“I’m sorry.” He immediately responded, but you hadn’t caught that.

“But it’s because I’m reminded that I don’t have anyone to kiss, or hug, or even share something with. I mean for fucks sake, I haven’t fucked anyone since—” you counted your fingers and whined some more upon realizing just how long you’ve been dry. “Oh my god it’s been a year.”

Taehyung quirked an eyebrow. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“Me too.” You agreed and Taehyung remained silent. Curious upon his silence, you glanced up to see him intently gazing down at you. It was as if he was caught in his own thoughts. His finger delicately traced the underside of your chin rather gently and as you both continued to speak in hush whispers to each other, you wondered what went on that pretty head of his when it came to you. Deep in your heart you knew the reason why you hadn’t let another person touch you intimately. They just weren’t him.

The way you both greeted each other had become a routine even.

“Hey there, silly.” He greeted you quite enthusiastically, arm slinging over your shoulders. He pulled you towards his side and you made yourself comfortable, a smile already laced on your lips.

“Hey there you twat,” you happily chirped out but Taehyung had another set of plans since he teasingly ruffled your hair and you whined, hitting his chest rather harshly.

“Oh no, no!” He was quick in stopping the both of you. From behind, you could feel his warm hands slide over your sides before wrapping his arms around you, spinning you around as you began laughing and telling him to stop.

The feeling of his hands on your skin kept you wide awake for nights.

“What are we doing tonight by the way?”

You glanced over at Taehyung who was already awaiting your answer. The both of you were on the couch side by side. There was a respective amount of distance between the two of you in the beginning, but then a fighting footsie battle had initiated and you were leaning on his shoulder now, watching him play on your Playstation 4.

“You sir,” you tapped his nose to try and gain his attention. “Have a date with Hyejin tonight, remember?”

He squinted, tilted his head back, and made a motion of opening his mouth to bite your finger rather than answering. You just shoved him back by the push of your hand on his forehead. It was after a couple of minutes later that he decided to say, “That doesn’t mean we can meet later? I wanna show you my new playstation.” He then pouted as you started shaking your head.

“Can’t. She told me she had a special surprise for you so,” you smiled, though it didn’t exactly meet your eyes this time. “I’ll be staying at Namjoon’s tonight.”

“Oh,” His movements on the controller suddenly slowed down, attention span lost. “Namjoon? You mean that dorky professor who everyone has a crush on?”

“You mean the dweeb that is my best friend?” you corrected him, finding it amusing that everyone around you did in fact have a crush on Namjoon. “Yeah.”

“Right.” He drawled out, clearly not buying it.

“Anyways, I have to get ready for work soooo,” You ruffled his hair and quickly ran past him because you knew he would follow you and tickle you endlessly. From behind your closed door, you heard him whine in return.

“MY HAIR.”

“Have fun on your date!” You shouted instead, softly giggling to yourself like a school girl.

“I’ll try.” He quipped and you were left there wondering if he meant it, or if he was genuinely playing around.

And then, there was that one night that changed everything around you.

Hyejin had been pestering you about your love life, trying to interrogate you as to why you were always so single and lonely. It did aggravate you at times. It felt as if she was pouring salt and lime all over your wound, but there was one night where she had set up a blind date with someone who you were definitely not interested in knowing at all. She wanted you to tag along to her and Taehyung’s date. You obviously declined, but it’s not like she ever listened in the first place.

“I don’t wanna go,” you told her, but she was not having it.

“I worked hard for this night and you Miss are not going to ruin it.”

“Dude, just go without me. I’m sure you rather not spend time alone with Tae.”

She stopped swirling the batter she was keen on making for pancakes. Something about the way she glanced over you, as if something was at the tip of her tongue should have raised concerned. Slowly, she prompted, “Tae?”

You on the other hand were carelessly flipping over your notebook, trying to review your notes for exam season that was quickly approaching. “Your boyfriend?” you told her, pouting once you realized your head was hurting beyond belief.

“I never knew you and him were that close,” she noted, eyebrows furrowing a bit.

“Well, that’s what happens when you’re a third wheel in your best friend’s relationship,” you carelessly joked, but she didn’t laugh. She just stayed silent.

You figured it was the nerves since she always tended to get very easily irritated whenever something important was coming up. Her anniversary with Taehyung was just weeks away and she was racking her brain for ideas. And since you were her best friend, you obviously had to hear it and even voice your opinions. It was definitely some cruel and twisted joke. However, after that day she never spoke to you about Taehyung anymore.

Then the date night came.

“Tae is here,” you notified Hyejin once you received his text to open the door. She was prancing around the room, trying to make sure she looked like perfection when in reality she already was. Your best friend was honestly beautiful inside and out, no wonder Taehyung was so in love with her.

You were about to step out to let Taehyung in to let her continue getting ready when Hyejin spread out her arm, stopping you from walking out of your room. You blinked twice, trying to understand what was happening.

“My boyfriend is here so I go first,” she tried joking, passing past you before you could walk out into the living room. You simply stepped aside and signaled her to walk before you. You figured it was just the nerves.

“You look gorgeous,” you overheard Taehyung tell Hyejin. She giggled quite loudly and you glanced over your phone, definitely not having it tonight. Maybe you could pretend you were sick?

“Where’s y/n?” Taehyung suddenly asked, his deep voice making its way into your heart.

At the sound of your name slipping past his lips, your nerves simmered down. You could do it. It was just one night that you had to endure. Everything would be okay. Without a much glance at yourself, you began walking into the living room to accompany them. You were texting Wheein and Yongsun, trying to find their encouragement words as motivation for tonight.

“Wow,” was what made you look up from your phone as soon as you stepped foot inside the living room. Wow indeed. Taehyung was so insanely handsome in rendered you speechless. His short hair had been permed like he had told you he would do it and you wondered how it would feel like against your fingers. He wore a light grey long overcoat that covered the creamy-white dress shirt that molded to his body like second skin. His dress pants made his ass stand out and you noted the rings that decorated his hand so prettily. His pretty dark brown eyes was all that you could think of in that moment.

“We’re matching,” Taehyung grinned, eyes firmly set on your eyes now.

You glanced down at yourself and laughed, because yes, you both were matching. A creamy white champagne high low dress complimented your body. The straps hung loose on your arms where you decided to put a bracelet and to compliment it you wore rings on your fingers. The jacket that you had on was a light grey color and your curly hair had been pinned up by the sides.

Taehyung’s grin was endless that it made your heart flutter.

“You look really beautiful,” he said and you wondered if the smile you instantly let on your face screamed the evident feelings you had for him.

“She would have looked better in another dress.” Hyejin spoke up, eyes raking your body from head to toe. “Also those heels are old and worn out. You wanna wear some of mine instead? You know the ones that Taehyung gave to me?”

“No,” you shook your head, still smiling. “I wouldn’t want them to get dirty, or worse trip and break them.”

Taehyung’s grin slowly morphed into a disappointed frown. He glanced over at his girlfriend, eyebrow quirked. In return you glanced her way and then back at Taehyung who seemed to be getting irritated as each minute passed.

“So, are we just gonna stare at each other, or can we leave already? Your date is already waiting for you over there, y/n.” She said, eagerly signaling you to walk out before them.

Taehyung began coughing, hands turning an awful white from how hard he was curling his fist. And Hyejin immediately started spluttering out, “Babe, are you okay? Would a kiss make it better?”

And that was your cue for you to let them be. You grabbed Taehyung’s keys from the couch and then you simply told them you would wait in the car, leaving them inside. They took quite a while to come down, but once they joined you inside you noticed there was a certain tension between them, and it was starting to suffocate you.

“Oh, fuck I forgot my purse in my apartment. y/n, go get it.”

“No,” you flatly responded. “You go get it. It’s cold and I’m being dragged out to this, remember?”

“Boo,” she pouted and then sighed heavily. “I guess we’re not going anywhere then.”

“Hyejin,” Taehyung suddenly spoke out, his patience wearing thin. “Are you good? Why are you acting so bratty lately? If y/n doesn’t wanna go then—”

“Leave her out of this,” she gritted out, surprising you momentarily. “She is fine. I’m the one who is not. I’m fucking cold, you know, your girlfriend? So can you go get my purse and my jacket?”

Taehyung inhaled deeply, face remaining stoic before he calmly exited out of the car. She watched him slowly walk back up the stairs and you remained silent for a bit, trying to figure it out how to approach your best friend without pissing her off furthermore.

“Hyejin, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, y/n.” She snapped and you bit down on your lip, restraining yourself from provoking her. The last thing you needed was a fight between the two of you. He came back after ten minutes and once he started driving, you sighed. Hyejin started talking to him then, animatedly telling him how the guy was a perfect for you and she couldn’t wait for you to meet him. She even joked about getting rid of you finally.

“Now Taehyung will be able to finally spend the night again.”

Except her plans backfired for that night since your blind date didn’t have the nerve to cancel last minute. Though that didn’t hurt you as much as watching them together in front of you. Hyejin clung on to Taehyung, seductively muttering nonsense into his ear but his eyes were set on you. Yeah having to endure them together was something you had to put up with since that was your best friend, but just the realization that he’ll never be yours to love wholeheartedly did the trick that night.

You remember excusing yourself and rushing into the bathroom stall where your tears were hidden from everyone in that moment. You clung on to your dress, eyes blurry as you felt your heart break further more. Your back was against the stall and you were huddled into your own bitter demise because why? Out of everyone in this goddamn world did you have to fall for someone who belonged to someone else?

“Get yourself together, bitch.” You sniffled out, trembling hands beginning to wipe away your tears. “You’re no pussy, hoe.”

Once you repeatedly told yourself that mantra, you gathered your shit together temporarily. You hastily splashed water on your face, trying to erase evidence of your downfall since you couldn’t handle looking at yourself anymore. After a couple of minutes of just resting your forearms on the sink, head between your arms, you reminded yourself that you could just go home. You would excuse yourself from their date, leave in an Uber, and go to Namjoon’s since you didn’t want to handle Hyejin. Not whenever you were so close to breaking.

The moment you stepped foot outside though, you spotted Taehyung pacing back and forth, talking to himself. He was running his fingers through his hair, tugging at it insistently.

“Tae?”

He stopped at the sound of your voice, hands falling to his sides as he turned to face you.

“Hey there silly,” he softly spoke upon seeing you. He was quick to approach you and you allowed him to pull you close into his arms, inhaling his sweet scent. You allowed yourself the comfort as his hands caressed your back. “I’m sorry she put you up to this. I told her you weren’t comfortable.”

You allowed yourself to curl up further into his embrace, hands sliding underneath his arms, digging into his shoulder blades. You felt as if you were crumbling and he was here collecting your pieces, helping you remain intact for a little longer.

“It’s okay, I’m just tired really.” You croaked out, genuinely feeling drained in that moment. “I’m just tired of constantly having to fight myself for something that is out of my control.”

“We’re leaving okay? I’m going to take you to that stupid noodle place you love so much and play that dumb board game that you’ve been wanting us to play. I think we have some left over face masks, too. And of course your favorite thing in the world?”

“Weed?” you hopefully asked and Taehyung just laughed.

“On a serious note,” he began murmuring it out, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that unsympathetic asshole, but in reality I’m sorry for him. He missed out on an amazing woman who lights up her surroundings with just a glance of her eyes.”

“You’re too kind sometimes, Kim Taehyung,” you softly told him. Please stop.

He slowly bent down, eyes set on you now. His hands framed your face so tenderly and you swore fate was cruel to you. “I’m being 100 percent honest with you right now. You are such an amazing person and I—”

He suddenly halted. You could feel the way his hands curled around your face, fingertips slowly tracing your skin. The way he was gazing at you and tenderly touching you made your heart flutter. It made forgetting him ridiculously harder than it already was.

“If I were an artist, I wouldn’t hesitate to make as many portraits as it takes to make you realize just how beautiful you are.”

“But you are an artist,” you immediately interject, not having it. Taehyung was an incredible artist, but he always claimed he was the contrary. He didn’t really see the talent that he possessed, but in your eyes he was the next Van Gogh. After all, he had painted your world in a variety of colors.

He laughed softly to himself, and instead of saying more, he simply pulled you back into his arms. The moment you felt his lips trace your head something strange had happened. As he held you in his embrace, your fingers curled into his shirt, the desire to kiss him becoming incredibly stronger than remembering that he wasn’t yours. But as he reassured you with the sweetest of words, you realized you were utterly and irrevocably in love with Kim Taehyung.

It was a few weeks later after the date night when Taehyung had called you at exactly seven in the afternoon. You weren’t alone in the apartment since Hyejin was preparing herself for the ‘happiest night of her life’ as she claimed. She was bragging and constantly telling you about it to the point where your heart and mind connected to tuning her out whenever she did. Instead, your thoughts rewind it back to that night. That night when you realized just how deeply your feelings for him were coursing through your veins. Ever since then, you hadn’t seen him.

Then as soon as you were tucked inside your covers, heartbroken, and ready for bed, his unexpected call came through. You didn’t even say hello before he was sputtering out, “Can you come over? Please? I-I need, um, it’s an emergency.”

He hung up after that. All kinds of scenarios formed in your mind in that instant. Was he hurt? Did he finally realized he no longer wanted you in his life? Maybe he needed help in picking out his outfit for the perfect night tonight. So with your pjs on, you slid on a hoodie and secretly left without telling your best friend anything. Either way she didn’t notice.

“You actually came,” Taehyung spoke up, sounding weak and even relieved in a sense.

You mustered up a tiny, but genuine closed lip smile. “Of course, dummy.”

“I thought you were ignoring me,” he said, pausing afterwards to see you. His eyes trailed your body from head to toe, a tiny grin replacing the worried frown he had earlier.

“Shut it,” you immediately told him, huffing. Yes, you were wearing mickey mouse pajama pants, and yes Taehyung was grinning widely now.

“This isn’t even about me so—” you stopped talking once you realized just how distraught he really seemed. “Tae, what the hell happened to you?”

His hair was everywhere, dark heavy bags underlined his eyes, and all over his clothes was splattered paint. Without even intending so, you quickly approached him. Your hands were framing his face before you could detain yourself, eyes roaming his features. He had purple, green, pink, gold, and blue paint adorning his handsome face.

“Hey,” with a soft whisper, you demanded, “talk to me.”

He simply responded back with his beautiful, signature, boxy smile. “I rather show you instead.”

Confused, you glanced up at him and he just pulled you closer to him. His hand pressed against the back of your head, hugging you fully now. And you just complied with your hearts desires and inhaled deeply his scent. Your hands tentatively wrapped around his sides, ear placed directly against his beating heart.

“Thank you for coming,” he softly spoke to you and you hummed in peace. “You made me realize what I finally need to do now.”

Of course, after all, you were in love with him. You would do anything in order to retain that beautiful smile of his, even if it meant breaking your own heart in the process. Because the person who was responsible for his happiness, for that smile, and for his heart was someone else.

“Come,” his voice rumbled throughout his chest and you nodded, your heart sighing. He was pulling away from you, slowly, and you found yourself not wanting to let go. You found yourself wishing you didn’t feel this way about your friend, about your confidant, and about your best friend’s boyfriend but the heart wants what it wants.

“Someone missed me,” Taehyung mused out, glancing down at you. His arms immediately went back around your body, wrapping you up so warmly against him in a way that made your heart stammer beyond control.

“As much as I love this,” he chuckled, his deep, honey like voice sounding like a melody in your ears. “I’ve been working on this for weeks and it’s really important.”

“Okay.” You let go of him, reminding yourself where your place should be. You shyly glanced up at him and found him already looking at you. He didn’t say anything else, instead, his fingers tentatively interlocked with yours.

The feeling of his hand sliding and interlacing with your own, only enhanced everything around you. You felt dizzy and lightheaded from just being near him, but now he was holding your hand as he led you through his apartment.

Taehyung unlocked a door that had always been secured. He didn’t even allow Hyejin to see what was in there, much less go into the said room. You slowly followed behind, curious eyes taking in every detail. All around the three walls, paintings were hung. The only light that was being portrayed was by the wall to wall sliding doors. The room was painted with beige colors, and next to the doors you could see pillows and blankets strewn. Alongside stood bottles of water, wine, and his color palette that had been heavily used judging by the colors that were grimy and mixed together.

“Okay but these paintings are beautiful as fuck, holy shit.” You were in absolute awe that you let go of his hand first. “Can I?” you whispered out, unsure if it was okay to taint his pretty art with your touch.

He simply smiled.

So you went around the room, curious eyes taking in every detail because Taehyung had taken seconds, minutes, hours, days, or even weeks out of his life to pour his soul into these canvases and convert them into his own art. You gazed in fascination since he managed to mix every color together, creating these contracting meshes into one. It depicted him so well, and you felt an overwhelming pride upon seeing these because he finally painted.

It was the last painting that made you stop and really take time and depth into analyzing it.

“Do they remind you of something?” He was behind you, probably just a couple of inches away from you since you could feel his warm breath fan the back of your neck.

You tilted your head, trying to decipher what it meant. The painting was eccentric from the start. In the background the colors were shaded in dark monotone colors but in the center of the painting there was a figure that resembled a woman that was outlined with soulful colors. Hues of pinks, blues, yellow, green, and everything in between surrounded the figure that happened to have their eyes closed with a smile. As you sank to your knees to get a closer view, you traced the stars in the background with your fingertips. Something about it reminded you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it yet. Stars? The moon and the sun were parallel to each other. The stars were everywhere though, outshining them both in a sense. An overwhelming emotion clouded your senses once seeing the painting as a whole. The woman was painted beautifully.

“It was the first time we met,” he quietly explained and you felt the air in your lungs rapidly leave your body. “At the art exhibit. I remember you telling me about how you’re stupidly obsessed with the concept of stars, the moon, and the sun.”

“Is that...” you swallowed thickly, hysteria bubbling up inside of you. No, no, it couldn’t be what you were thinking.

“Read the back of it,” he softly spoke behind you.

“I-I,” you started blubbering out, your eyesight momentarily blurring for a second. As your finger traced the stars, you felt the sob lodged in your throat threatening to spill out.

Silly.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung was quick to pick up on your mannerisms. He seemed concerned upon seeing the tears in your eyes once you turned around to face him.

“You idiot,” you simply muttered out before launching yourself at him. Arms winded around his neck and Taehyung softly chuckled before wrapping his strong arms around you. You inhaled his scent, finding comfort in his arms and just him overall.

“Thank you,” your voice was muffled out by his clothing. “Thank you.”

“It’s yours, if you want it.” He softly spoke out, chin on top of your head. His thumb was rubbing soothing circles on to your exposed skin, humming along to whatever song was on his mind in that moment.

You simply nodded, afraid if you spoke something else would end up happening in that moment. Your quivering lips ghosted over his exposed skin, hot breath fanning against his chest. His movements stopped suddenly, and you could feel him inhale sharply. Your fingers were digging into his sides, tears beginning to stain his shirt now.

“I—” you choked out, not really finding the right words to say to him.

“Please don’t cry,” he begged you, his hands cupping your cheeks. You could feel his hot breath fan against your lips. His nose nudged against yours and you felt a dizzying spell overwhelm your soul upon being so close. He was tantalizing you without even meaning to. Just by the way his breath ghosted your face, your mind had wiped clean your conscious. He was so close. He was just there. His fingers were tangling into your hair, unspoken words being desperately told with just a flickering of eyes between the two of you.

“You are so undeniably, bewitchingly, ethereally beautiful.” He softly confessed against your mouth. You felt the murmur of his lips against yours and it just enhanced his lovely words into your heart. The pad of his finger softly ghosted over your bottom lip and you didn’t realize how utterly close the both of you were until you felt the erratic beating of his heart. Your fingers wandered up his arms, suddenly stopping once they were around his neck.

“y/n, I—” he breathed out, his lips slowly and just inches away from finally meeting yours. Your eyes were fluttering to a close, almost allowing yourself to finally dive head into what was Kim Taehyung, but just as your heart almost gave up on you, your mind thought of something immediately.

“Hyejin,” you threw out, eyes widening. Hyejin. Images of your best friend flickered in your brain, the red warning flags finally slapping you back to reality. A reality where Kim Taehyung was not yours and will never be yours. His heart belonged to someone else.

“Oh fuck,” he suddenly blurted out as you were pushing him away from you. The both of you instantly fell apart in that moment. Shame quickly took a whole of you now and the mortification and guilt was just eating you away as you tried to avoid Taehyung’s gaze.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” you shakily said, your heart breaking with each word you uttered out.

Taehyung had his eyes screwed shut, his hands hastily tugging at the roots of his hair in what seemed desperation. “I, uh, I actually have to meet up with her.” He said as an afterthought, and then his eyes widened. “Oh fuck, I have to go pick her up in twenty minutes.”

He glanced your way and you simply did not look at him at all. After all, you were just seconds away from kissing him and rendering straight into his arms. Your feelings had begun to control you and that had become incredibly dangerous now. You knew deep in your heart that you needed to get away from him because you were sure the next time you wouldn’t remember Hyejin. But that’s what happens when you’re trapped with the person you’re in love with. Feelings tend to tangle you up, choking you up until you’re forced to breathe because you’re suffocating on the inside from all the kept up emotions.

Despite everything, you were already demanding him, “Taehyung, go get showered and dressed.” You didn’t even spare him a glance as you walked past him. Your hands were trembling, head whirling, and broken pieces leading from Taehyung’s hands to wherever you were heading into now.

“Hey, wait.” He was trailing after you, hand encasing your arm to stop you. He held you back, managing to spin you halfway from the sudden momentum. His eyes were pleading, feet unconsciously nearing you. “Please, look at me. We need to talk abo—”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you back like that.” You blurted out, your trembling fingers taking off his hand from your skin. It was too much. You wouldn’t even dare to look him straight in the eye because you knew you were bound to cry and spill everything that your heart was just aching you to at this point.

“What?” he sounded incredulous, eyebrows furrowing as he slowly said the following words, “Don’t you ever apologize for spending time with me. I love being around you.”

Despite everything, you meekly wondered, “Really?”

His fingertips were already marking their way into your skin, comforting you without him meaning to. “So much that you make me forget life altogether.”

It was so messy. You wondered when everything in your life had become such havoc. How everything had spiraled out of control and you no longer were in reign over your emotions. The moment Kim Taehyung pranced into your life, you knew you were bound to be fucked. You didn’t expect to fall so in love with your best friend’s boyfriend. You just didn’t expect such heartbreak in return after this moment.

“Taehyung,” you croaked out, tears slipping past your cheeks. “I—”

“What is it?” He tried nearing you, but with each step he took you backtracked. “Just tell me already. I know you fee—”

“Hyejin,” was all you could muster out. You couldn’t do that to her. No way.

I love you, but you are not mine to love Kim Taehyung. At least, not in this lifetime.

You flung his hand away from you, already walking away from him, muttering out, “I’ll see you around.”

That same night you trailed your broken hearted soul back to Namjoon’s penthouse. His keys dangled on your fingers, mocking you with each step you took towards your own demise. He wasn’t there so that made it even worse. Namjoon had been your comfort, best friend, and soulmate since the first time you both met. In fact, your friendship was stronger than yours and Hyejin’s combined. Unfortunately though, he wouldn’t be there to hold you tonight and you decided it was okay. You figured you’d cook for the both of you whenever he decided to come back from girlfriend number four.

You knew going back to your place was a big, fat, fucking no. After all, Taehyung and Hyejin were probably celebrating their first grand anniversary together and you didn’t want to be there. No one wanted to witness who they were irrevocably in love with be someone else. It just reminded you of the heartbreak, sadness, and tears all over again. Sighing, you made your way inside, going into Namjoon’s room to retrieve your left over clothes from last time to change into. You didn’t want to be in clothes where Taehyung had left his mark on.

Fortunately for you though, Namjoon had arrived quite early from his date.

“I thought you weren’t going to be here.” You said with a mouth full of mint chocolate ice cream. Even though Namjoon despised that flavor with all the fiber in his body, he still always went out to retrieve some from you.

“I had a feeling you’d be a mess tonight so I brought this,” he said, lifting a recycling bag. His dimples were showcasing, eyes slightly squinted from how cutely he was smiling. “I went grocery shopping so we can make pasta!”

“Oh, well I made your favorite a while ago as well. How about you roll up this—” you brought up the baggy that was filled with weed. “And serves us some wine while I cook the pasta?”

He sighed, hand over heart as he melodramatically said, “Sounds like utter heaven.”

And that’s exactly what happened. He sat across from you, legs crossed with a blunt in his hand as he waited for his pasta to slightly cool down. You were already gone, loving the hazy effect it had on you. Soft music was playing and you were doing okay, but then a particular song came on that made you remember him all over again.

“I don’t know the situation between you and him, but it has you fucked over so badly. I’ve never seen you so head over heels over someone, much less a man.” Namjoon suddenly spoke up after watching you. There were tears already brimming in your eyes as you tried to blink them back.

“If I told you who it was you wouldn’t be this nice to me.” You quietly muttered out, avoiding his curious gaze. But you kept on forgetting who you were talking to after all. Namjoon was always one step ahead of you, he was only giving you space.

“You are my best friend, you idiot.” He fiercely reminded you, arms wrapping around you. “I know you like the back of my hand so whoever it is I know you’re not doing it on purpose to hurt yourself, or anyone else.”

“He’s just different. I don’t know what made me just fall into oblivion for him, but he makes me feel safe, secured, and at home.”

“But?”

You glanced down at your hands, heart aching to the point where you just wanted it to stop. “But he’s not mine, Namjoon. He belongs to someone else, and they are just so in love with each other.”

“It’s Taehyung isn’t it.” He didn’t ask, rather he stated it. At this point you weren’t going to deny it. After all, you were hell bent on not seeing him anymore after today. It was for the best. Your silence however spoke rather than your own words could. Tears were staining your cheeks, a choked up sob escaping from your lips. You hastily covered your mouth with your hands to prevent anymore, eyes screwing shut as the pain coursed through your body.

“C’mere,” Namjoon gestured you towards him and you instantly wrapped yourself around him like a koala. You leaned your head against his chest, your eyes fluttering to a close as he began to rock you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You wondered how you had lucked out with finding Namjoon. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t feel and be this safe in his arms. This love you felt for him reminded you of how strong your bond was with him. He’d do anything to protect you just as you would as well. And right now seeing you sob against his chest broke your soulmate apart.

“Love is a bitch, y/n. But one thing I know is that if it’s meant to be, then it’s worth fighting for…the right way that is. Right now I know you feel this intense fervor of love you have for him won’t go away anytime soon, but I promise you it is. Put some distance between you and him. If you find yourself going back to him, then all I can tell you is to talk to him. Talking does wonders, baby. ”

“It’s easier said than done. Also, Hyejin is my best friend and are you forgetting that Taehyung is still in love with her?”

He remained quiet. If Namjoon voiced out his real thoughts, he was sure he would just ignite the fire within your heart. So he sufficed with just holding you in his arms because this was the support you needed in this moment. You needed someone who could hold you and see through you. He figured Taehyung had dug deep beneath the depths of your secured heart and he wanted nothing than to go and ruin their precious little celebration. Regardless, he just hoped Taehyung was taken out of your life so you could get a whole of yourself again.

After midnight, your phone had begun to ring insistently. You were deep asleep, curled up in his covers as Namjoon stared at your phone. ‘Taehyungieee’ was the name flashing on the screen. Namjoon wondered what he wanted from you. No sane boyfriend would be calling their girlfriend’s best friend this late. He wondered just how you had developed these feelings for him and the answer was staring at him right on the face. The picture it flashed along with his name was you and him. You were on Taehyung’s back, arms lazily wrapped around him as you did bunny ears on him. His eyes were closed, but the huge grin plastered on his face made it evident that he was incredibly happy around you.

So Namjoon grabbed a hold of your phone and answered the call.

He was already sputtering out nonsense as soon as he answered the call. “I know it’s late, but I need to tell you something. I—I, I did something tonight and the only person who I only want to see in this moment is you. I don’t know what I was thinking, but today just reassured me that you—”

Namjoon was having none of it. “She’s with me, Taehyung.” He sharply cut him off, anger evident in his voice. “So I suggest you to stop playing with her feelings before I personally go over to your place and beat the fuck out of you. I don’t wanna hear any of your bullshit when all you’ve done is hurt her recklessly. Leave her the fuck alone, you don’t deserve her.”

Namjoon hung up. Your phone was tossed somewhere behind him after he deleted the call. He sighed into his hands. Now he knew why. He wondered if Hyejin knew too. He wondered if she was okay because you surely weren’t and you weren’t even his girlfriend. He glanced over at you, wondering when your heartbreak would end.

A week later, Taehyung had packed up everything and left. And in his wake, he had taken your heart with him too, the red string of your love attached to it, tangling until it was just a huge ball of sorrow.

And it goes back to now.

It’s him who breaks the silence. You watched as he calmly bent down to drop his bags on the ground and once he stood up again, his dark brown eyes met yours. He seemed hesitant in approaching you at first, but you felt yourself take a step closer to him involuntarily. You honestly could not believe it.

“Taehyung,” you finally acknowledged him, eyes meeting his. The way he gazed at you reminded you of the time in the hallway where he was declaring to you so many beautiful words and you had realized you were fucking in love with him.

He slowly inched closer, his hands twitching at his sides. It was him who took the final step, his arms slowly raising rather tentatively. A flicker of eyes was exchanged between the two of you, almost fleeting. Your fingers were already raising, yearning to touch him because you just had to make sure that this was real. However, the second his hands met your skin, reality had set in. Eyes widened, breathing had halted, and Taehyung’s arms were pulling you into his embrace so desperately. You practically lunged yourself at him, all teary eyed and with quivering lips spilling his name.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he breathed out, his hot breath raising goosebumps all over your body. “And I missed you so much.” He whispered it out, but you heard it so loud and fucking clear. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, hands inches away from the nape of his hair that had gotten longer. Your side was curled up into his, eyes closed to keep the feeling of this moment engraved in your heart.

His hand was placed at the back of your head, keeping you in place in his arms. Your fingers dug into his skin, your mind trying to wrap around the idea that he was indeed here. He was here, and you were finally in his arms once again. His arms were strongly wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against him. His scent was everywhere. It was invading your senses, your way of thinking, and reigniting those feelings that you tried to burn away. Everything was just bubbling up inside and now you had to worry about waiting for it to burst once again.

Your Taehyung was back.

You felt his hand slowly travel down your spine, his fingers tracing every curve of your body before enveloping you in such a tight, vice grip. You could hardly breathe and you didn’t know if it was due to the excitement, or because he was just holding you so close to him so tightly. The beating of his heart was erratic against your chest and you inhaled his scent, not fully believing that he was finally back after such a long period of time.

“You have no idea just how much I wanted to come back every time you came into my mind.”

And then your clouded, foggy mind soon returned all the sorrow, heartbreak, and tears you had suffered all at once. That brief happiness of seeing him, of being reunited with him, and having him hold you like this would never fill up the hole he had dug out of your heart.

“I’m sure you did,” you bitterly bit out at him, remembering the shit he had put you through. No matter how comfortable you felt being in his arms again, you were already pulling away from him. “That definitely seemed like it when you just left and didn’t say anything to me, or anyone for a fact.”

It was too much. Just two years ago he had walked into your life, made you feel butterflies and heartbreak all at once. Two years ago, he had begun dating your best friend and all you could do was play along, pushing a side your own feelings. A year ago, he broke your best friend’s heart and yours simultaneously. And now, he’s back.

“I’m sorry,” his eyes were deeply filled with concern. Those hands gently framed your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that had fallen. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

You just shook your head and laughed a little at the situation you were in. He was pulling you back into his embrace but you just removed his hands from you. He wasn’t allowing you think again. Snapping out of your trance you snarled out, “Just stop! Stop touching me and let me go.”

Taehyung seemed as he had been punched. His grip on you weakened automatically, eyes shining with turmoil trapped in them.

“I’m leaving,” you mustered out, avoiding his gaze once again. You knew if you glanced into those eyes you were going to turn into putty and run back to him like nothing. That was something you didn’t need right now. He couldn’t just prance back into your life without facing the consequences.

“Hey,” he started, his voice filled with despair and urgency. “Please wait, please,” he pleaded and you shook your head, trying to clear his voice from your mind. His hand intertwined with yours, tugging you back to him.

Your eyes widened at the feeling of his fingers interlocking with yours. If you could kiss him right now, you would. Every inch of your body was yearning to pull him and just kiss him because no amount of words would ever put it through your heart just how much you adored this man.

“I’m sorry I left like that, but I’m back now and I want to make things right, okay?” He tried resonating with you, but you figured moving on was the only way to keep you and your poor, fragile heart safe. “Here isn’t the place to talk, but please give me a chance to come back into your life again and explain why I left like that.”

You slowly disentangled your fingers from him and Taehyung faltered. You just grabbed your bags and said, “I can’t let you back into my life, not when it was so hard to let you go when you left me behind so easily.”

And with that said, Taehyung let you go.

—-

Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you knew your eyes were red and swollen, but you hadn’t felt any sort of emotion since he pranced into your life minutes ago. You were a blank canvas, but somehow Taehyung always managed to get you so beautifully painted with the brightest and warmest colors you could ever think of. Streaks of blues, purple, pinkish, orange and yellows hues adorned and blossomed from your soul, evolving as each day passed. All of these colors reminded you of how it felt to be around his presence. Of how it felt to slowly and all at once fall in love with a person.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hyejin murmured out, her arms were wrapped around you. She was leaning her head on your shoulder, eyes curiously gazing at you with worry. “I haven’t seen you this sad since last year.”

A bittersweet smile edged your lips. Of course destiny was cruel. To fall for a man who wasn’t, couldn’t, and still wouldn’t be yours. To be fair, falling for Taehyung came unexpectedly, but yet again everything with him was unexpected and beautiful in a sense that reminded you that you were alive and could feel.

“I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled out, trying to not let your emotions get the better of you. How could you explain to her that the reason you were crumbling once again was due to the man who broke her heart on the day of their anniversary?

The day they broke up Hyejin was enthusiastically telling you about how passionate and fulfilling that night was going to be so you spent the night at Namjoon’s again, trying to drown yourself with weed and food. The next day you found your best friend on the couch with makeup stains and the smell of alcohol oozing from her. She never really told you what went down that night but for a while your relationship with her had been strained. There were days where it was just silent. She wouldn’t face you, or even talk to you until a couple weeks passed by. The mentioning of Kim Taehyung was forbidden in the household you both shared together. That unspoken rule was what made everything okay between the two of you again.

“I’ll be back later if Namjoon cancels—”

“No,” you waved her off. “Go and enjoy your weird date with him. I just saw this stupid drama and it has me in my feelings. I’ll be fine. I’ll call Wheein later and see if she wants to get drunk together.”

“Yeah,” She said, grabbing a hold of her purse with a semi disgusted look on her face. “I definitely don’t wanna be here to see that go down like last time.”

“Have fun with Joonie! Tell that moron that I found my Nintendo 64 the other day!”

“He’s going to feel relieved that he didn’t actually break it, or misplaced it as you accused him of.” She narrowed her eyes at you and you simply glanced down at your phone, feeling attacked right now.

“To be fair it wouldn’t be the first time so leaveee me aloneee,” you whined out and Hyejin just shook her head.

“I’ll be back for dinner tomorrow so don’t go anywhere! I’m buying Chinese takeout tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here as long as you buy me food.” You dryly replied, being genuinely honest.

She smiled cutely, waving her finger at you quite adoringly in response. “Done.”

You felt like a proud mother watching her child go into her first day of school since Hyejin was enthusiastically waving at you. She was quick to tell you she loved you before she skipped out the door. A tiny smile managed to make its way on your face. You figured she’d be back in less than five minutes though since she tended to be forgetful at times. As in cue, the doorbell rang and you sighed.

“I asked you if you had your fucking keys and you—” your eyes met with the figure who was not in fact your best friend.

You almost screamed, but conformed to a whisper. “Taehyung?”

Upon seeing him, you immediately stumbled over your feet as you tried to close the door again. Taehyung’s response seemed out of reflex. His arms were already wrapping around you, catching you in seconds before your face could connect with the lovely ground. He held you protectively against his side, his eyes taking in your expression as you glanced up at him in shock.

“I see you haven’t changed one bit.” He retorteed, his voice echoing throughout the hallway corridor. You had forgotten the sound of his voice until you saw him again, and now he was standing outside of your apartment…with his arms around you.

“Hyejin isn’t here.” Your mouth automatically told him. It was always that fucking sentence. Every time he would come over Hyejin would already be at work, or out with her friends, or even going to his place. Taehyung was always at your place though, with or without her in the apartment.

He scoffed, and then began to softly laugh upon seeing your confused expression. “I’m not here for her.”

Oh. Your eyes widened at that. Oh. His arms had gotten bulkier, his frame broader and you hated that you noticed that within the seconds that he was holding you. You gained footing again and pushed yourself out of his arms, backtracking into your apartment to refrain your dumb self from saying anything stupid.

“I went over to your old apartment last night, but instead I got met with an eccentric Chinese couple.”

You snorted, biting back a venomous retort. “I’m sure you had fun being introduced to their classic rock collection, eh?”

He was watching you, taking your reaction towards him as he carefully spoke. “That and they invited me over to dinner tomorrow since I was so charming in their eyes.”

Your mouth was set on a thin line, expression impassive. “You won’t look so charming once my fist connects with your face if you don’t tell me what you’re doing here.”

Despite that threatening comment, he grinned. “You’ve always been all bark so I highly doubt you’ll do that.”

He was right on that, but the anger you had stored inside you would beg to differ in this case.

“I’m not here to fight though,” he quickly spoke, noting how you were seconds away from slamming the door on his face right now. “I’m here to say that no amount of words will ever take back what I did to you. I know what I did was unfair to you in every way and I’ll understand if you don’t want me back in your life. But let me tell you something y/n, during that time that I was gone I did a lot of self-thinking and it all led me back to you. The first thing I did once I stepped foot in this country was look for you, which is why I’m here. I’m sorry for leaving like that, for not explaining myself, and for hurting you the way I did.”

“You idiot,” you quietly uttered out before becoming more vocal once the anger seeped in. “I-I, how dare you try to prance into my life like nothing and think that an apology is going to fix everything? You were my person, Taehyung. You broke my heart once I realized that you had left and you weren’t coming back. For a year, I wondered what happened that made you leave me like that and—and—”

You felt your throat begin to burn as tears blurred your eyesight. Damn it. Hold yourself together.

“y/n...”

“You know what?” you sucked in air and blinked back the tears. “I wish you the best in life, but what you did I will never forgive you for.”

You slammed the door in his face with all the force in your body, causing the door to shake. It echoed through your apartment and you couldn’t hear him over the roaring waves of anger that clouded your senses overall. Despite you being so livid, the other part of you wanted nothing more than to open the door and let him inside once again. You knew what side could overpower the other one the moment you could clearly hear him once again.

“y/n, I’m sorry,” his voice cracked and you screwed your eyes shut, fingers curling into the palm of your hand. “Please,” he continued, twisting your heart more. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just don’t want to lose you. It was a hell of a year without having you constantly by my side.”

“Liar,” you instantly called his bluff.

You slowly approached the door, hand outstretched towards the door handle. Taehyung was outside your door, it wasn’t a dream anymore that you could wake up from. He was just a few feet away with a barrier between the two of you once again. And then your hand went limp besides your body, eyes screwing to a shut as you tried to allow your brain to do the thinking instead of your heart. Sighing, you simply leaned your forehead against the wooden floor, wanting nothing more than to have his arms around you.

Silence.

You wondered if he had given up and left.

“I’m going to wait here until you decide to open the door.” Nope, he hadn’t.

“I’ll call security.” You immediately bit out and all you heard was a quiet chuckled.

Out of gnawing curiosity, you watched through the peephole as he slid down and sat criss crossed facing your door. His phone sat next to him, faced down. He was simply gazing at your door now, not moving an inch.

“I’ll be waiting.”

You deliberately screamed at yourself to leave him there. You pried your fingers from the door handle, reprimanding yourself over being so incredibly stupid. So instead you occupied yourself with trying to clean, organize, and even fucking cook. But everywhere you went was full of memories of you and him. Despite you moving away from your old apartment, you still had the same couch where you both sat across each other, throwing popcorn, gummy bears, and m&m’s at each other’s mouths. The bed sheets where he had accidentally fallen asleep while you were running your fingers through his hair, listening to him talk about his shitty day at work. The pillows you both had initiated a pillow fight with at three am in the morning. The wine glasses of that summer night where you and he spent hours talking about everything and anything. Even now as you filled up a glass of water to pour it into the pot reminded you of how he would volunteer to help you cook.

“Here, let me just—” he leaned over you, his shirt raising above his belly button as he reached over to grab the glasses for sweet tea. Your eyes flickered over to his exposed skin and the urge to trace your fingers down his abdomen was so immensely strong that it frightened you completely. You felt heat warm up your cheeks as you decided to glance away from his glowing skin and rather turn your eyes towards him. But Taehyung’s gaze was already on you, glasses already in hand.

The proximity between the two of you was numbing to the heart and brain. He was so incredibly close, to the point where you could see the color of his irises. In that moment, your favorite color had gone from yellow to brown in seconds. He was trapping you in, body touching yours. His warmth envelope you and you swore you could count those pretty lashes on his eyes and you would not get tired of it. His eyes flickered down to your lips and you knew you weren’t breathing at this point.

“Strange,” he suddenly cleared his throat, and took a step away from you. He turned away from you and you took in a deep and necessary breath.

“What?” you uttered out, slightly ashamed. He caught you staring and was probably disgusted by you now. Even you were bemused at your sudden urge that hadn’t been there before. What the fuck was going on?

He turned to face you, seeming a bit struck himself. “I suddenly have the urge to paint.”

“Really?” you broke out into a smile, forgetting the moment all together. “Dude, that’s great!”

His awe was transparent as he warmly smiled back at you. “It really is.”

That night you realized Taehyung had begun to sneak his way into your heart. The first ever color to be tentatively painted on the canvas of your heart was the color brown.

“Can you believe Taehyung has been ignoring me for the past few days?” Hyejin began to ramble on quite angrily. “So you know what I did the other day? I went over his place and he was inside this weird room, locked inside. He came out with paint all over him and proceeded to kick me out of his apartment, claiming he was too tired and busy.”

You continued writing down your notes, trying to stay focus on your assignment.

“…something about finally getting his fucking muse and whatnot. He was telling me about his drought the other night, but I think I fell asleep on him. However, what the fuck? It’s been almost a week now and he’s not even answering my c—”

She suddenly got a phone call and you thanked your lucky stars. Judging from the disappointed look in her face, it was clearly not Taehyung. She still answered the call and finally left you alone in peace.

From: Taehyungieee

I just finished my first ever painting since two years ago

The cup of water suddenly slipped from your numb fingers and crashed all over the floor. It was a rude and uncalled awakening call for sure.

“Shit,” you said, immediately grabbing a hold of the broom to clean the mess up.

“Are you okay?”

And there he was: the rude, uncalled awakening call. It was startling you awake again, but did you really want to wake up? You’ve been asleep all this time, waiting with your broken heart at the palm of your hands. Did you really want to wake up just to have it punched, twisted, and hell bent over again?

“y/n, I need to know if you’re okay or—”

“I’m fine,” you croaked out, eyes watering. You were obviously not fine. And you weren’t going to be as long as he sat outside your fucking door. The anxiety of Hyejin coming back and seeing him suddenly struck a nerve. How would she react to him coming back after so long? You were barely hanging on right now. You even sat down beside the pile of broken glass, head leaning back against the cabinet. You ignored the pile you had amounted, waiting to be pricked by now.

As long as you were in love with him, you knew it was going to stir everything up in your life once again. You knew him coming back was something that you did not plan for. You weren’t the slightest prepared and it frightened you. The last time you were unprepared you fell deeply in love with a man who was not yours to keep.

It was past midnight when you decided to just see if he was still outside. The temptation of sliding him a plate of food was incredibly strong, but you held out. Now as you peered out the peephole you realized he was cold. He had his arms wrapped around his body and was slightly shivering. The best of part of you grabbed a hold of you and you grabbed a hold of your favorite blanket and rather quietly and slowly you opened the door. You found him resting against the edge of the door frame, sleeping. With light steps, you approached his sleeping figure before taking a seat next to him. You wrapped your blanket around him and yourself. With a poke to his cheek, you secured yourself that he was indeed passed out since he didn’t even flinch or stir. The silence welcomed you, bringing you so much peace as you quietly heard Taehyung’s breathing. It was in that moment of weakness that you momentarily allowed yourself to lean your head against his shoulder.

He was back.

Taehyung.

Your mouth was already spilling your contained secrets.

“The only reason why I’m here is because I still love you, Taehyung.” You whispered it out, your fingers tenderly brushing away the bangs from his eyes. “I don’t think I ever stopped, or will if I’m being honest.”

You figured he was dead asleep so it wouldn’t matter.

And he was sound asleep. But as you glanced up at him, gathering each and every detail from his pretty face, you realized just how much you had missed him. There were nights where you would scribble away your heart out on a piece of paper in search for him. Tears were documented on those pages and your feelings were a mesh of words that only he could bring out of you. Kim Taehyung had definitely left a wound in your heart and now here he was beside you sound asleep, quickly patching it up and healing it with just his mere presence. God, you were an absolute idiot.

You stayed there with him for who knows long until he started moving. It was then that you instantly ripped yourself away from him and stood up in time for him to flutter his eyes open. A loud ass yawn emitted from his lips and he looked disoriented before his brown eyes landed on you.

“y/n,” he rasped out, immediately sitting up once again. His legs were wrapped up in your blanket and you watched how he realized he even had it in the first place. His fingers tentatively curled around it, tugging it closer to his body.

He wasn’t looking at you as he spoke up, sounding incredibly tired. “Do you want me to leave?”

Yes. Yes, was what you meant to fucking say.

You were gazing ahead of you, not turning towards him as you replied heavily, “No.”

Taehyung was immensely surprised and shocked. You were sure he was expecting you to kick him out for good once and for all like you should, but then he softly replied, “Okay.”

“It’s cold.” You quietly told him, already beginning to walk inside your apartment again. “Come inside.”

He trudged in behind you rather quietly, hands still curled around the blanket. You led him into the kitchen, pouring him a hot cup of green tea so he could drink. Alongside stood a plate full of food that had been obviously warmed up. Whatever he was thinking though, he didn’t utter a word out. His eyes didn’t meet yours. They were too focused on the steaming mug of tea and food.

“Drink this,” you said as you passed him the mug, your eyes flickering away from his intense gaze now. “You’re more than welcome to take the couch. My bathroom is down the hall to the right if you need it. And I want you out of here before 10 in the morning the latest.”

The way you spoke was monotone, firm, and was nothing compared to the sweet, kind hearted person Taehyung knew so well.

“Noted.”

You both finally met each other’s eyes. You held his gaze, hoping that in some way all your pain, tears, and heartbreak could be transferred so he would know how you felt for so long. Maybe then he would know the damaged he had done to you inside and out. However, that did not happen. Instead you felt your gaze blur, hands beginning to tremble from just how hurt you were so inside. You glanced away, shoving past him.

You didn’t turn around to notice the way his saddened gaze followed you all the way until you trapped yourself between another set of four walls, away from him.

It was four am.

You couldn’t fall asleep.

Your bed sheets were just not lulling you to sleep at this point. You were curled up on one side of your bed, hugging your pillow into your body for comfort. You laid there, feeling so empty and with so much emotion all at once. Your brain couldn’t exactly grasp it. Taehyung was literally down the fucking hall from you. He was just a few steps away from you. A few steps from wrapping his arms around you and making you feel like home once again.

A soft but rather small smile appeared on your face. At least he was safe and healthy. He looked so much better, glowing even. You then wondered how you looked. Did you look as you felt? Did he not hurt the way you did? Probably not.You sat up, legs already swinging off your bed. You were bound to drink some medicine so it could knock you out to the point where you’d wish you’d wake up with him already gone. You were already opening the door, ready to step out when you met Taehyung already outside your door, hand curled into a fist midair.

“I—I fuck,” He sputtered out, hand falling beside his side. “I didn’t know you were awake.“

“Did you expect me to sleep soundly, Taehyung?” you genuinely prompted, the anger quickly igniting inside of you. Your voice was incredibly sweet, but dripping of venom. “Did you expect me to fall asleep so easily? Is that how you slept while you were away this time? Without a care in this fucking world? Liberated and running away like the coward you were and still are?”

Taehyung did not respond. His eyes had become watery as he barely spoke up, “I know what I did was shitty. I know what I did hurt you beyond believe. I can’t express just how much I was hurting too, okay? You think leaving was easy? You think being away from you was ever easy?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you finally spat out, causing him to flinch. “Don’t you fucking compare your pain to mine. You left without saying anything to me. You left nothing, nothing. Not even a single note, letter, or anything. And you left me wondering, stupidly worrying over you, but you obviously didn’t give a fuck. Instead you were living life in Venice ever so graciously.”

He was shaking his head to every word you were saying, disbelief written all over his features. “What do you mean, I didn’t give a fuck? Are you fucking blind, y/n? Did you honestly not know just how much you meant to me, and still do? For fucks sakes, I’m standing here, trying to apologize to you when I could be fucking other bitches, or even forgetting completely about you. So what the fuck do you mean by me not giving a fuck about you? And you’re pulling up Venice?”

His eyebrows were furrowing, trying to follow along. “You knew about me all this time? And you didn’t even try to at least contact me?””

“A friend of mine bought your painting and I recognized it the moment I saw it. And how could I after what she told me?” you bitted out, boring holes into him by now. “The world renowned artist, Kim Taehyung, an indie artist who lives in Venice. Happily living his life away with fucking bitches and enjoying his newfound wealth.” You recited the exact same thing Wheein had told you in her precise words.

She had burned the painting in front of you afterwards.

Taehyung simply scoffed and then began shaking his head in annoyance. “The Venice part is true, but in no moment did I ever touch anyone else that wasn’t you.”

“Stop,” you instantly warned him, his words becoming more of a blow that for some reason instead of consoling you it just kept adding to the flame inside your soul. “Stop saying things like that to me.”

“It’s true though,” he desperately urged out, sounding frustrated now. He ran his hands down his face, groaning as you seemed to be distancing yourself each time he opened his mouth. “Never once did I fuck anyone while I was over there. You wanna know why? Because my certain muse was waiting back home for me.”

“Fuck you!” you finally snapped, shoving him away from your entrance. “You don’t get to say shit like that when your actions prove you otherwise. Do you not see how you left me? I am here standing in front of you crying because I am a pathetic ass person who cared too much over someone who didn’t give a single fuck about me!”

His jaw ticked, seeming impassive and you fucking detested that. He never once showed an ounce of emotion and it always made you feel incredibly stupid. This time however, Taehyung finally snapped. “Don’t you fucking dare say I never gave a shit about you when I did. I showed you countless of times just how much you meant to me. For fucks sakes, I painted you so many times!”

He finally exploded, yelling back at you now. “Could you not fucking see it? How insane I was when you came into my life? You want prove?”

“No, what I want—”

“What?” He barked out and you bit the inside of your cheek, restraining yourself from physically assaulting him.

So you resonated with hurting him verbally instead. “I want you out of my life.” You decided, trying to convince yourself with that too.

“You sure you want that?” He challenged you and you were taken back by his assertiveness. It only infuriated you even more. Your fingers were curling up inside your palm, nails digging into your skin. The pain felt numbing compared to the bubbling hatred you were feeling inside. “If so, just say it straight to my face.”

Before you could control yourself, your fingers were fisting his shirt, crumpling it up as you brought him closer to you. He stumbled over, hand flying over to hold on to the doorway entry to stop himself from crushing you. You slowly gritted out with such defiance, “I. Want. You. Out. Of. My. Life.

By the time you were done uttering the last word out, your voice had begun to shake. Your fingers had loosen a hold of him and you felt utterly defenseless.

He leaned into you, getting on eye level, and lowly bit out, “And actually mean it.”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Sev—

“Get out and never fucking come back into my life!” you exploded, yelling at him now. You were quick in releasing him and shoving him away from you. “Get out!”

He stood there, without saying a single word.

“Get out of my fucking apartment, out of my life, and out of my existence.”

“But I don’t want to,” his voice cracked and you halted, your throat feeling on fire from how hard it was to not cry in front of him. “I don’t want you to give up on me when I am standing right here, ready to give you everything and much more. I am standing here, and I am not leaving until your hatred for me goes away.”

What did he mean by that? What the hell was going on?

His hair was a mess from letting his fingers tug at it and just the sound of his broken and desperate voice was making you crumble all over again. “I don’t want to leave when it’s been a hell of a fucking year not having you around me, not seeing you smile over the dumbest of things, and not being able to hold you. It’s killing me, y/n.”

Tears were already spilling down your cheeks before you could stop them. With the sleeve of your shirt, you hastily wiped them away from your face since you were not going to let him see you cry. But he was right there, and he was back. He was back after such a long time and he was right there.

“I hate you for making me feel this way,” you sobbed out, finally breaking. Your shaking hands tugged at the strands of your hair in utter devastation. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so much Kim Taehyung. I hate you. I HATE YOU!”

Each word felt like a needle pricking into his heart, but seeing you break down like that? Taehyung wanted nothing but to beat the fuck out of himself as well.

“I am so sorry.” Tears were streaming down his face, he seemed at lost for words. “I am so fucking sorry.”

You both were unconsciously edging closer. As you were screaming at him how much you hated him, he was nearing you, his cries of ‘I am so sorry’ contradicting yours. His hands tentatively framed your face, foreheads pressed against each other’s as you sobbed. He was so careful in touching you. You felt his fingertips ghost your face so gently, the pad of his fingers wiping your tears away as he brokenly croaked out, “I hate myself for making you cry. I hate myself for leaving you like that, and I will continue to hate myself as long as you cry over me because I don’t deserve your tears, y/n.”

“Just—” you hiccupped, hands encasing over his. Your grip on him tightened, eyesight blurred and throat burning. “Just hold me, Taehyung.”

“Please, j-just hold me,” you sobbed out and Taehyung was wrapping his arms around you before you could finish that sentence. His hands were encasing your head, his mouth on your hair as he tried his best to mend you back into the person you were before he came into your life.

All your pain, hurt, and heartbreak had seeped into his veins. His own feelings had intensified and seeing you break down like that was enough to render him straight down on to his knees. Being in Venice was hell. He was alone and his thoughts were constantly full of you and only you. There were times where he impulsively would try and run back into your arms, but he stubbornly reminded himself that you were better off without him. Seeing you now with your face dug into the crook of his neck, fingers digging into his clothes, he realized just how fucking wrong he had been.

Your feelings were as evident as ever and he blamed fate for separating you both like that.

“I’m sorry,” he held you close to him, whispering it until it was engraved in your mind. “Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. Give me a chance, give me a chance to prove just how much you mean to me. Please, just one. And if that doesn’t work, then I’ll let you go.”

You sighed, you were too drained. You felt completely exhausted, but Taehyung was running his fingers through your hair, still apologizing to you with tears in his eyes. At one point the both of you had slid down against the wall together. His hold on you would not loosen and by now you were resting your head against his chest, his breathing luring you to sleep as each minute passed. You were sitting in between his legs, eyes fluttering to a close.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he continued, sniffling. “I never meant to hurt you, please know that. Please, please know that none of this was intentional. I—, I, lo—”

“Okay,” you mumbled out, tilting your head back against his chest to glance at him. He glanced down, lips centimeters away from yours but you didn’t falter. “One chance. One chance to prove to me that all of what you’re saying is true. Actions tend to speak louder than words, Taehyung.”

“Okay, okay,” he was quick to agree. “One chance is all I need. And I’ll prove it to you, okay? Not for me, but for you.”

You returned back to your original position. You made yourself comfortable in his arms, eyes finally closing. A soft plead left your lips, “Are you going to leave in the morning?”

“Not unless you kick me out.”

You were out like a light after that.

Hours later with the sun peeking in through the window sliding doors, you slowly stirred yourself awake. As you began to blink yourself fully awake, you realized you were no longer on the hallway floor, but on your bed. And Taehyung was beside you, hot breathing fanning the back of your neck. His arms were not only wrapped around you, curling you further into his own warmth, but his fingers had intertwined with yours as well. Never in your dreams, would you have imagined the day you’d wake up and realize you were still in Taehyung’s arms.

He didn’t leave.

He didn’t, but you needed to. It was almost noon and you knew your best friend would come barging in through that door in an hour or so. You heard him softly exhale, fingers twitching in your hold. He was waking up. You immediately closed your eyes, relaxed more into him, and evened out your breathing.

“I won’t fail you again.” He whispered out, fingers slowly pulling away from yours. You had your heart lodged in your throat, feeling him pull away. It was seconds later when you felt his fingers tracing yours, trailing up your arm, and then going back down. His touch must work wonders since you were lulled back to sleep in seconds. The second time you woke, he was gone. A note was messily written on your night stand and just as you were about to read it, Hyejin barged into your room.

“You deadass just woke up now? It’s two in the afternoon!”

You curled the note underneath your hand, your eyes zooming in on the jacket behind her. It was Taehyung’s jacket. Did he leave it behind? Will Hyejin turn around and recognize it?

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered out, screwing your eyes shut at being so damn obvious. “I- I think I smoked a little bit too much last night.”

“Well, hydrate yourself then.” She reprimanded, seeming worried now. “I’ll serve you some water, okay? Also, Joonie is out there and he brought us lunch!”

Oh fuck. Not only was she here, but Namjoon as well? You waited for her to leave your room until you uncurled the note.

‘I’m in your closet’

“Taehyung,” you gasped out and quickly ran over to your closet. You pulled the door open and saw him sitting there, playing Overwatch on his damn phone.

“I was going to wake you when I heard them, but then I heard her calling your name so I had a few seconds before I could write that and get in here,” he sheepishly admitted and you found yourself grinning like an idiot at him despite everything.

He hadn’t left.

“I can give you a five minute window for you to make it out through the door. You’re going to have to be really fucking quick.”

“Damn it, y/n.” He began to then crawl out of the closet, mumbling nonsense into the air. “Okay, but before we do all of this, can you come over to my place tonight?” He was standing down, towering over you slightly.

“That quick?” you dryly humored out and Taehyung bit down on his bottom lip.

His next sentence was what did it for you. “You said I have one chance. It’s been 393 days since we’ve last seen each other and I’m not going to waste any more time between us.”

Your gaze met his. “I’ll text you when I’m there.”

Getting him out of there wasn’t exactly easy. You gathered Namjoon and Hyejin into her room, slamming the door shut behind you. How did you even manage to get them in the same room? Well you accused Namjoon of stealing your favorite chips and went over to complain to Hyejin who was already in her room.

“I did not touch your fucking chips,” he continued to defend himself, eyes narrowing. “This is called defamation and I will sue you, you nimrod.”

“This is called defamation and I will sue you,” you openly mocked him, knowing this would grate his nerves.

“You little—”

“You see!” you extended your arm, wiggling your finger at Namjoon as Hyejin seemed utterly done with the both of you. “He called me a bitch! Tell your boyfriend to stop stealing my food and calling me degrading names.”

“I did not call you a bitch.”

“Whatever,” you waved him off.

“Did smoking too much bud suddenly shorten the two brain cells you still had left?” He retorted, his index finger tapping the side of your head. “Hellooo, I know you’re already working hard, but can you try a little bit more?”

With slit eyes you slowly began approaching him. “I will castrate you in your sleep and choke you with your own—”

“Hey, hey!” Hyejin tried cutting in between the two of you.

“You’re on your period, right? That’s why you’re acting bitchier than usual.”

“Woah, woah!” Hyejin interrupted, a scowl placed on her lips. “Did you just pull that fucking card with two women in the room?”

Namjoon sighed, seeming utterly irritated, “I forgot what happens when thing number one joins thing number two.”

“You’re on fucking time out, Kim Namjoon.”

The five minute mark had passed.

“It’s okay.” You waved at them, but they were too busy debating between the two of them now. “I just remembered I ate them last night while I was high as fuck, whoops!”

It’s not like they heard you since they had begun bickering. Namjoon was actually sitting in the corner, face against the wall as they both tried to throw their opinions at each other. Without saying anything, you tiptoed your way out of there. Now all you needed was time to get ready for what was about happen tonight.

-------

On the way to his new apartment, you wondered what would be the end of this story. Would you finally move on and leave? Would you finally be able to forget Kim Taehyung? You entered his penthouse, eyeing the place wearily as you made your way inside the low dimmed place. You then came to a slow stop once you came into view of the living room.

Paintings. You were surrounded by paintings of you.

From portraits, to abstract paintings, and even old sketches. El Museum de Amor was what it was written so intricately right on the center of his new wall. Judging by the new glamorous penthouse, you knew that it was him who wrote it. Your eyes brimmed with tears, an incredulous laugh emitting from your lips. Your trembling hand cupped your mouth in awe and utter shock. You were in utter disbelief since there was no way Taehyung had kept these hidden for so long. Each painting differed from one another, but one thing for sure was that his colors never did. He painted you with purples, pinks, blues, yellows, and a mixture of brown colors, enhancing you with the most beautiful, pastel colors.

Paintings of you doing daily, tribal things surrounded you, and you could tell they were old. Some included you with delicately made flowers surrounding you, enhancing the beauty that you never knew he saw in you. You traced the portrait, his emotions coming to life in your eyes after so long of waiting. It was as if you were seeing yourself through his eyes and all you saw was love. One thing that you noticed was how Taehyung had managed to beautifully shade in the stars in every single one of his paintings of you.

You are you’re own entity. You shine so brightly, silly.

“I not only fell in love with you,” Taehyung spoke up, coming into view now. “But I fell irrevocably in love with painting you.”

You flipped a painting over, hands still shaking.

My muse, Silly.

It reminded you of the interview Wheein had showed you and Hyejin, which then proceeded by them two burning the painting together. Watching them set it on fire, tore you completely apart. Wheein was holding the painting as Hyejin held the lighter in her hand. You felt like an outsider just awaiting for the destruction that was about to commence. Hyejin lividly poured gasoline on it, screaming at an inanimate object until the tank was completely empty. Then she set it on fire and you could see the glimmer in her eyes as she watched it crumble beneath her fingertips.

“Who is this mystery person?”

“Someone who I’ve tried to forget.”

“She must be very special then, since you know, to have the famous Vante painting her so intimately and beautifully.”

Taehyung was turned towards the screen, a saddened spark in his eyes.

“She is indeed. She was and still is my only muse and inspiration.”

“I hated you for leaving me like that,” you suddenly told him, turning to face him. He was already behind you and you were ready to step into what was Kim Taehyung as a person. But first, there were still some questions unanswered. “Hyejin told me you both broke up and then when I went to see how you were doing you had packed up your bags and left.”

He was frowning now, eyes blazed. “I went to say goodbye to you but Hyejin told me you had gone out of town.”

“Well yeah,” you frowned, finding it all weird. “I left Sunday.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I went Friday.”

“We weren’t exactly on speaking terms when you left.” You clarified, still finding everything so uncorrelated and coming to terms at the same time.

“Fuck,” he swore underneath his breath. “Did you receive what I left there for you?”

“No?”

“It was the painting you left that day. I got it back the next day, you know, after Namjoon answered your phone that night.”

It was your turn to look in disbelief, “What?”

“The night that I broke up with Hyejin I called you and Namjoon answered.”

You began shaking your head, finding everything so confusing. “But, but there was no call from you that n—”

“I called you that night to tell you that I was in love with you.”

Oh fuck.

“The reason we broke up that same night was not necessarily because I wasn’t the same person when we met, but I had fallen in love with someone else.”

Staring at all the delicate and intricate paintings, you began to feel all of your questions being answered. The timing between the two of you was just incredibly fucked up.

“And rather than leading this relationship on, I was honest with her and that’s that. I broke up with her because the thought of not being with you was suffocating me so fucking much.”

You were blinking back tears, feeling so distraught by how much shit you both had been through because of the timing and uncertain events.

“So tell me why it took us this long to get to here then?” you said, sounding so heartbroken. “Tell me why in my dreams was the only way I could get to hear you say that you loved me?”

Everything was a mess, but here you both were. Taehyung was standing here in front of you, asking for another chance and here you were ready to give it to him. You were ready to dive back into him, hoping that this time you wouldn’t end up with a heart broken into bits of pieces. You were ready to fall even more in love with him. You knew it was possible.

“I love you,” he breathed out against your mouth, hands becoming firm on your hips now. There it was, the confirmation you’ve been desperately waiting for. His whole body was pressed against yours and your mind was racing as his eyes met yours.

“I am so stupidly and blindingly in love with you. It’s you who I’ve been trying to forget, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try to forget you, to forget the way you smiled at me, how your body was made for me, and how incredibly beautiful you are inside and out. I just fucking can’t.”

I love you.

“The reason why I left? I left because I was in love with you, y/n. I was in love with someone who I didn’t deserve. Someone who I have hurt so much in the process while I was with someone who I never truly loved. And I figured disappearing from your life would be better, but I didn’t mean to hurt you the way I did. I thought that doing this was going to be good for you and you’d be able to finally be happy.”

“Why?” you demanded, pushing him away from you. “Why couldn’t you have just talked to me like a normal human being instead of leaving this country and erasing yourself from my life like that? What the fuck were you thinking Taehyung?” your voice cracked, but the anger inside of you was finally dripping from your fingertips.

“Do you have any idea how it felt to be in love with someone who wasn’t mine? To watch you with my best friend wishing that it was me in your arms instead of her? And then you leaving like that? Make me happy?” you scoffed. “Taehyung I was lost for so long and it’s not fair. You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. I get to decide that and if I strongly believe that it’s you, then it’s going to be fucking you.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.” He slowly breathed out, inching closer to you now. “To—” he paused, tentative hands slowly inching closer to your face.

The pad of his fingers softly graced your face, awaiting your reaction before softly whispering, “To touch you like this.”

“Then do it Tae,” you whispered it out, hands cupping his face to have him closer to you. You softly brushed your lips against his, eyes fluttering to a close. “Please.”

His eyes glanced into yours before slowly fluttering to a close. Mouth softly molded against yours, his lips being tentative at first. But as Taehyung slowly kissed you, his hands wandered down your sides, carefully beginning to touch every curve of your body. Your heart soared as your lips heaved a gentle sigh into his mouth. You hadn’t felt so much emotion being put into a kiss, but yet again this was the man you were so in love with. His lips were tender and rendering you down so quickly, making your legs turn to mush and jelly all at once. It was slow and gentle, everything you ever hoped it would be with him. And then he abruptly pulled away from you, touch and sensation leaving with him.

There was a pause between the both of you as you both struggled to get a grip of one another. Something about the air was different as fleeting glances passed between the two of you. All you could do was stare intensely back at him as you both breathed in each other’s air from the proximity. And then as Taehyung gazed into your eyes with such fervor intensity, something clicked between the two of you. Soul, heart, and passion vibrated throughout your body at the sensation of his touch because he was everywhere all at once. His fingers were already tangling themselves into your hair, tugging insistently as his mouth roughly met yours. Mouths clashed and pants began to emit from the both of you. A moan slipped past your lips at the sensation of his soft lips because it was finally happening. His cologne invaded your senses, making you even more stupid dizzy for this man.

His mouth missed yours from the excitement and his hot breath fanned against your skin as he nudged his knee between your legs, hoisting you up on his thigh, and pressing you further into him. Your skirt managed to ride up your thigh and Taehyung definitely did not miss the red, lacy thong adorning you so well.

“Much better,” he lowly breathed out against your mouth. You could feel his boxy grin against your lips and then you were kissing him again, melting and molding to his sync in just a few seconds. Soft moans emitted from you, body reacting before your already brain dead self could. You managed to wind up your arms around his neck, fingers pulling at the nape of his hair so desperately. His tongue was already slipping past, mouth sensually sucking down on your bottom lip.

Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung.

Fingers left his hair and instead wandered down his chest, hastily beginning to rip his shirt apart since you needed to feel him. And Taehyung didn’t seem to mind it one bit since his lips never detached from yours as he aided you in those fleeting moments.

“Here, silly,” he mumbled it out against your lips, eyes fluttering to an open. A laugh emitted from his lips upon realizing just how utterly impatient you were in that moment.

He was just so undeniably hot. With his curly hair matted up, swollen pretty lips, white dress shirt ruffled and almost off his body, and the tone of his tan skin glowing under the dim lighting by his candles. This man was effortlessly so beautiful and he just confessed to you about being his fucking muse. You eyed his button up shirt was and hurriedly tugged it down without wasting any more time. You wanted to get to the part where he was pinning you against his mattress and fucking your insides out.

“When you left,” you began and he was nearing you again. Hands framed your face ever so delicately with his pretty adorned silver ring hands. “I wanted to go after you, but you weren’t mine to yearn for.”

“But I was,” he lowly admitted to you with earnest sincerity. He was breathing into you as his lips met yours. “Since the moment I met you, I was already yours.”

His gaze was enough to set your whole soul on fire. Hands felt all tingly, head was dizzy but not from the buzz, and all you wanted at the moment was him. In your mind all that echoed was his name, Taehyung. You felt bewitched as he nudged your nose with his, hot breath fanning your face. You felt his fingers twitch, and with one last glance you simply stood on the tip of your toes, and softly pressed your mouth against his.

You felt him smile against your mouth and that immediately made your heart blossomed. As your hands slowly began to wander up his chest, you felt a soft pink hue being gently stroked against the canvas of your heart. It was light and sincere and tentative. And as Taehyung deepened the kiss, that soft pink darkened.

All thoughts were wiped free from your mind as his lips began to trail down the side of your neck, sucking and marking to his liking. It was then Taehyung’s hands grasped the back of your thighs, swiftly lifting you up. With a knee nudged between your thighs, he backed you up against the wall, pressing himself against you. A soft gasp emitted from your lips since he was right there again, lips barely brushing yours so tentatively and slowly. Hot air fanned your face, and the way he was gazing at you made your insides quiver in delight and your poor heart stutter.

“I can feel how wet you are for me, baby,” he purred out, fingers mischievously dancing up your thigh. You were watching his teasing movements like a fucking hawk, just waiting for him to do something you already.

“y/n.”

You glanced up and Taehyung was just gazing into you so intensely, halting you.

His fingers caressed your body, slowly wandering up before encasing your face in his large, veiny, and pretty hands. With a clear and low voice, he said, “Do you want me as bad as I want you?”

You happily wrapped your arms around his neck, a dazed smiled plastered all over your face. Taehyung definitely didn’t miss that since he was kissing you all over again. Taehyung hadn’t moved a muscle though and it dawned upon you that he was waiting for confirmation once he quirked an eyebrow, eyes telling it all. You almost laughed since here you were, practically kissing the crook of his neck and eagerly waiting for him to bend you over and do his worse.

“Yes,” you spilled it into his mouth without hesitation. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Okay.”

A moment of realization dawned upon the both of you, but you figured you’d deal with this later. Right now, what you wanted was standing right in front of you and you were bound to get it once and for all.

“Lead the way,” you breathed out against his lips.

“Okay then,” he confirmed, beginning to lead the both of you into his bedroom. One hand was placed along your back while the other was set on your ass, gently squeezing. He groaned upon feeling the lace that was barely covering you, and you could feel him harden underneath you.

With a kick to the door, he swung it open and gave you a last peck on the mouth before gently laying you down on his king sized bed. He didn’t turn on the light, but you propped yourself up, watching as he roamed around his room, fingers running through his long hair. His back was facing you and you could feel your heart accelerate since even in the dim lighting, you could still make out his broad shoulders and defined back. He had definitely changed physically.

He arched an eyebrow, a smirk making its way already. “You want me to fuck you with your clothes on, baby?”

“I preferred if you take them off.”

“Oh?” He boyishly grinned. “Is that so?”

You simply let yourself fall back against the covers, teasingly spreading your legs for him. You heard a sharp inhale, followed by a guttural moan. You were beginning to shimmy out of your shirt when suddenly Taehyung was already climbing on the bed, hovering over you. Hands firmly encased yours, pinning them above your head.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered it out against your lips, eyes slightly darker. “I’ll strip you naked, then. If that’s what my baby wants, then I’ll give it to her.”

My baby.

His hands ripped your shirt open and you gasped in surprise. Taehyung watched as your expression went from instant shock to what seemed to be a slightly frightening pissed off one in just seconds. Your hands were already beginning to shove him away, since that shirt happened to be a favorite and he just ripped it like nothing. “Dude, why?” your eyes had turned to slits and Taehyung knew he had fucked up.

So naturally, he quickly began to spill out, “I’m sorry, fuck. I’ll buy you another one, shit, I’ll buy you whatever the hell you want tomorrow, okay? My wallet is yours.”

Your pissed expression suddenly wavered into a tiny pout and he knew he was in the clear now. “Okay,” you slowly relented, rolling your eyes. “You’re definitely buying me this exact same shirt.”

“Deal.”

“Okay now undress me,” you whined out suddenly and he definitely had no problem in complying with that. You watched as Taehyung practically moaned at the sight of you in just a maroon coated corset. He didn’t even need to take off your skirt to notice the matching set, nor the garters that complimented you so fucking well.

The corset tied around your body, almost like a present to him.

“My little present, huh? Can I unwrap you now?”

“Please,” you impatiently whined out.

He bent down where the end of the red silky string ended. With his teeth, he grazed your skin as he teasingly dragged it down, slowly unraveling you to him with such ease. You could feel his hot breath fan against your skin. He stopped suddenly, his gaze just wandering your body from head to toe in such awe. His attention to detail was definitely there since his artistic eyes were just brushing and tentatively painting your body with his gaze alone. It was when your hands were coming around to cover yourself when he snapped out of his stupor.

“Nope,” he kissed you, pinning your hands away from your body. “My art.”

“I—” you began, stunned.

“So beautiful,” his lips were kissing your thoughts away. And then they were marking away down the base of your throat, licking down on your collarbones, and then his lips immediately went to your nipple, tongue swirling momentarily around it. You squeezed your thighs, trying to find some kind of release as he puckered his lips and sucked. He was definitely enjoying himself since you found him humming along to whatever song was playing. Your brain was muffled by the sensation of his lips to recognize the song he was so keen on singing along to.

“So pretty,” he languidly purred out, a teasing grin laced on his pretty face. He was watching you, tongue swirling around your bud as you both gazed into each other’s eyes. You softly moaned, hands desperately beginning to search for his body. You just wanted to hold him, to feel him against your body, and to feel his lips grace yours so hotly and animalistic simply because you craved for him.

You’ve been yearning for him for so long that all you wanted was to feel him move inside of you.

“Taehyung, I need you to fuck me already,” you heaved out, your impatience getting the better of you.

However, Taehyung was quick to hover over you, pinning your arms against the bed as his lips grazed yours. He was dizzying you again, causing your head to spin from the proximity. “I am appreciating my art. So you’re going to wait until I am fucking done, understand?”

You thickly swallowed, nodding. He didn’t take that as an answer though. “I didn’t hear you, love.”

“Yes,” you whimpered out and Taehyung’s grin just made your thighs a dripping mess.

He was already in between your legs again, tongue lapping up every single drop. Hands were firmly splayed against your hips, keeping you still as his puckered lips sucked on your clit without pausing. Oh, oh my fucking god. Taehyung was quick to catch on your mannerisms, figuring out the way your body worked with such ease simply because he already knew you inside and out. Watching as you propped yourself on your elbows, mouth opening and closing frantically. These loud ass moans could rival a pornstar and Taehyung couldn’t breathe just from how hard his dick was.

“Oh God,” you softly gasped out, your body jerking slightly at the movement of his fingers. Slick covered your ass and thighs as Taehyung pumped in two digits inside of you. He curled them inside of you and you knew his hands were more than capable of making you cum with such ease. You loved his hands and watching his fingers disappear inside of you so harshly, as if you were being used to his liking excited you more than you could think of.

“Oh fuck!” you choked out, fingers fisting the sheets beneath you. “Tae, I’m so close, so close, soclosesoclose.” You screwed your eyes shut, crying out as he replaced his fingers with his tongue. With a few strokes and a mild slap to your cunt, you jerked forward and came without a warning.

Oh fuck, so this is what you’ve been missing. Your breathing was in pants, legs shaking, and head spinning. Taehyung definitely knew what the fuck he was doing. And that fucker just laughed, hands massaging your thighs.

“You done for the night?” he teased you, boxy smile growing. “Wanna take a shower and go to bed, Grandma?”

“Fuck you,” you laughed as you managed to sit up. Your body was practically yearning for more at this rate. You just didn’t want to boost his goddamn ego. He was good, great even if he could make you see stars with just his hands and mouth. You wondered if you would pass out if he fucked you now.

“That’s the plan, baby,” he cheekily replied, winking at you even. You didn’t know what to do besides smacking your hand on his forehead and trying to push him away from between your legs.

“Oh no, no.” He tilted his head to make your hand slip down his face instead. He bit your palm and rasped out, “I gotta clean all of my mess first.”

With his hand, he motioned for you to lay down and you did as you were told.

“Tae,” you tugged at his hair, trying to get him on top of you instead, but Taehyung was busy kitty licking you clean, softly singing, “If you want it, you can have it.”

His mouth hovered over your sensitive bud, slightly nudging it with his tongue. You dug your heels into his bed, getting worked up all over again. Then he proceeded to challenge you, “You think I can make you cum again, baby?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded without thinking, chest beginning to raise and fall. His grin was wicked, yet charming. His mouth though kept slurping away the mess he had made out of you. He hummed against your hole and your legs quivered at the sensation.

“Tae, please,” you began, pushing him away with your hands.

He raised an eyebrow, tongue sweeping his bottom lip. “Yeah?”

“I want you to fuck me already, goddamn it.” You exasperatedly told him.

“I think, I’ll fuck you with these on,” he smirked, fingers hooking underneath your red garter. Just the sensation of his fingers on your skin, ignited the anticipation inside of you.

Do whatever you please, just fuck me already.

His hands were already unbuckling his belt, whipping out before throwing it behind him. His gaze alone made you swallow thickly since the way he just looked at you told you what he was planning to do to you. Once his pants and underwear were gone, you were already meeting him on the edge of his bed, hands sliding up his arms. You stood before him, smiling so widely.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you sincerely uttered it out, finding yourself breathless once meeting his eyes.

He caressed your cheek, arm winding around your body to pull you flush against him. “If I could capture the essence of how beautiful you are, I wouldn’t share it to the world. Call me selfish for wanting you all for myself, but it took us three years to get here where I can finally call you mine.”

He was lifting you up once again, gently placing you down on his mattress. You could feel his cock press against your stomach and you simply welcomed him between your legs so naturally.

“You sure?” He asked once again, trying to reaffirm himself in a sense.

“Make me yours,” you said without hesitation, games and teasing falling off the table now. Your heart, mind, and body were in unison as you kissed him immediately to reassure him that it was okay.

As your mouth deliciously met his, he slowly slid into you. He swallowed your moan in his mouth, hips bottoming down against your body. A grunt emitted from his mouth as you squeezed around him, starting to milk his cock. His hands had gotten busy with your hair, fingers tangling themselves as he slowly began to push himself into you. All you could do was muffle your moans by biting down on his shoulder, nails digging into his side. He was in between your legs, hips sensually moving against your body. Finally. You could feel his cock move against you and your toes were curling at the sensation of having him finally fuck you dizzy like you always wanted. Your mind was whirling and your body sighed in contentment. His weight on top of yours, his hands roaming down your body, and the feeling of his soft pants emitting on to your lips was just too much. Taehyung was praying nonsense into air, he too was getting senseless and lost inside of you.

“Oh god,” you whimpered out softly, hot pants heavily emitting from your lips. His cock pulsed against your tight hole, driving shameless whimpers from you over and over until he was the only thing engraved in your mind.

His big hands were splayed against your thigh, fingertips slowly dragging down your skin, squeezing and marking to his liking. His mouth ghosted across your neck, sucking and grazing his teeth between your breasts.

“Yes, yes, fuck,” you moaned out, practically shivering against him. He was a quiet lover, except for an occasional grunt and soft moans that vibrated against your warm skin.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, his hips grinding against yours. He was gripping on to your thigh, fingers tugging at your garter so harshly that it started to slide down.

“I—Ah, ngh, Taehyung,” you were practically mewling. And Taehyung was relentless as he kissed you suddenly to swallow the whimpers emitting from your lips because he felt he was going to cum at the sounds you were making just for him.

“You’re so loud for me baby,” he cooed out, shamelessly praising you. “My baby is so responsive for me, so fucking hot.”

“Mhm,” you ate it all up, hands greedily marking his back as he slammed inside of you. His hips were rolling down, practically grinding against your pubic bone.

“Paint your pretty body with my hands,” he hotly sucked the tip of your earlobe, earning a sharp inhale from you as your response. “With my lips,” he continued, his lips softly ghosting your skin. “mark you and brand you with my name written all over you skin.”

“Yes, yes, do whatever you want,” you whimpered out, legs beginning to tremble.

He suddenly cupped you’re face rather firmly, momentarily slowing down his movements. As he slowly panted out each word, he rolled his hips, hitting your sensitive spot over and over again. “You’re mine, you hear me? No one can touch you but me.”

Done.

“I’m yours,” you shameless repeated it to him, eating up everything that was leaving his pretty mouth. “Ah, I, ah always been.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you instantly moaned out. Taehyung’s fingers were tracing your lips, watching as he fucked you silly and you responded to his demands so easily.

“Suck,” he demanded, and you happily obliged. With puckered lips, you swirled your tongue around his finger before sucking briefly.

“I know my baby can take more,” he cooed out, slowly deep throating his fingers down your throat. You gagged around his long, slender fingers, soon hollowing out your cheeks to fully take them in rather happily. He was quick in sliding them in and out, letting you do all the dirty work. And you happily obliged to his bidding, coating his pretty and delicate fingers with your saliva.

“Such a pretty, messy baby,” he groaned out at the sight of you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and with his pretty tongue, he licked and sucked to your echoing moans.

He used your headrest as leverage, hips grinding against yours as low, guttural moans left his pink lips. His eyes were screwed shut and you clenched so deliciously around him that he let out a small ‘oh fuckohfuckohfuck’ in return.

“I’m so close,” you cried out, legs wrapping around his waist. Your heels were digging into his skin, fingers pressing into every curve of his body. He moved your body against the bed, chest pressed against yours, hands beginning to intertwine with yours. Foreheads were pressed against each other’s and you both were breathing in the same heated, desperate for release of air into each other’s mouths.

“Yeah?” He panted out against your mouth, hips stuttering as you felt your body jerk. “Is my baby close?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered out again, back beginning to arch off the bed. Your heels were digging into his ass and tears began to prick your eyes from the intensity.

“Taehyung,” you cried out, eyes squeezing to a close. Legs had begun to tremble, toes were curling, and then your body stuttered and all you could feel was a hot blazing white overwhelming you.

Taehyung came with your name in his mouth and lips desperately finding yours. Your fingers instantly lost themselves into his hair, body melting and molding with his. He was still in between your legs, arms encasing you whole. His arms slid beneath yours, hands still tugging at your hair as you breathlessly continued to kiss him.

“I am so love with you, you know?” he suddenly sprung up on you, voice laced with so much emotion. His voice was breathy, and low.

You simply gazed at him, happiness overwhelming you wholeheartedly.

“Taehyung, I am so in love with you,” you softly told him, your fingers tenderly caressing his face. “Since the moment you walked into my life, I have been in love with you.”

As he gazed at you with stars in his eyes, you remembered what he had told you the first day you had met him. How he had contradicted your viewing of how the stars seemed like background. In a sense, you felt as if you were the stars, sometimes covered by clouds, dying with time, and overlooked because you were always there. And then he came into your life and showed you that the stars were magnificently beautiful in every way.

“Have you ever considered that the stars alone don’t need the sun and the moon? They are their own separate entity. They shine brightly with, or without them.”

“I love you, silly.” He softly reminded you once again, nose nudging yours so sweetly.

You brought him down towards you, kissing him as you confessed into his lips, “And I love you.”

It was during the time where the sun started peeking in through his blinds that you laid wide awake. Taehyung was sound asleep, arms around your body, lips on the crook of his neck, and you could feel his even breathing on your skin. His hair was all matted up from running your fingers through it and you were so fucking happy. A variety of colors painted your heart and you couldn’t wait until you got to see the masterpiece he had created inside of you. There was one thing standing in the way though, something that wasn’t exactly letting you fall asleep in his arms. You wondered if your best friend would set on fire that masterpiece that you called your heart once she found out you were with Taehyung.

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