#rouiyan writes

[rouiyan]

𝘉𝘓𝘜𝘌 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 [ 𝘯.𝘫𝘮 ]

⧏ restart at prologue || redirect to playlist ⧐

synopsis — this is how you fall in love.

✧ na jaemin x (fem.) reader, strangers to lovers, college au, next door neighbor au.

✧ genres — the usual fluff to angst to fluff. word count — 16.8k!

✧ disclaimers — profanity, mentions of food, illegal and legal (u.s.) alcohol consumption, peer pressure, parental apathy, insinuations of sex and sexual activities, quarantine depression, people not wearing masks / not social distancing, a sexist middle-aged man, violence in the form of physical and instrumental aggression, minor hospitalization. nothing sexually explicit whatsoever.

✧ author’s note — with this piece released, i can finally say that i’ve peaked. the whole five month, on and off, writing process was worth it every step of the way and i know that it shows in the quality of writing. little miss ree is back at it again! as always, fix yourself a cup of tea and get toasty in the sheets because this one might just fuck you up. 

✧ 01 — WHO IS THAT GIRL I SEE?  ( ~ STARING STRAIGHT BACK AT ME ~ )

you fail to understand how a second-year psychology major and a first-year business major could possibly share a class, even though the class in question is 'chinese culture i.' yet, you know it for truth when the girl who's taken the seat to your left nudges you by the elbow and decides that, "isn't he hot?" is the most fitting line to start up a friendship. it also comes to your knowledge that the only reason she'd said that was because you were quite unashamedly studying the leather-clad back of the boy seated two rows down and three seats to the right. 

folding your hands together brings a decisive end to your unrequited staring contest and the girl beside you retrieves her laptop from the powder pink sleeve she had tucked under her arm. the side glance you point her way emanates in apprehension as you watch the girl set a disposable starbucks cup, large in size, beside her powering-on macbook. the napkin wrapped around the cup clings to the sweat of the ice cold caramel frappuccino (with extra whipped cream piled on top) and just like that, you decide that whoever she may be, she isn't your cup of tea. still, tolerating her is your best bet at making friends on your first day of the newest chapter of your life.

you rush to turn on your own computer as she clacks in her ridiculously long password with those ridiculously long acrylics that, evidently, she's let grow out for far too long. what you assume to be the middle finger of her right hand pokes at the enter button with resounding finality and you turn towards her as she speaks again, her tone seeped within a sigh. "man, i missed him."

that's when you learn that the girl beside you, whose name is soojin as you also learn, is a year older than you while jaemin, your next door neighbor and designated campus 'hottie,' is two years older. "he took a gap year," she explains with very distinct gesticulations that has her fake fingernails all up in your face. you don't bat an eye the whole while. if anything, you're almost accustomed to her strong demeanor and aren't nearly as surprised as you should be when she asks you to accompany her to a party later in the day. the party that'd become your first official college-status party.

it's loud and it's gross and it's everything that pop culture's made it out to be. soojin introduces you to all her girl friends that all have the same baby tees, the same lashes from the same boutique, and a month-old manicure. their skirts are small, their dresses short, which only further confirms what you'd came prepared for because there you are, in a tiny tiny dress, downing burning shots of alcohol mixtures and sticking your chest out as you toss your head back to laugh at some dumb, made-up story that your new friend, haeun, has been drunkenly prattling on about for the last twenty minutes. you fit in perfectly, and as terrible as it sounds, you've never felt more relieved in your life.

one by one, the girls get picked up and thrown over the shoulders of angry boyfriends or some gruff-looking senior that needs a quick fuck upstairs. none of them display any sort of objection and in fact, it almost seems like they were waiting for it. like the whole night, they've been rooted in their one spot on the arm of the couch, or the corner of the coffee table, eye-fucking some man across the room until he became fed up enough with his own stationary position by the drink's table and came to scoop her up for their routinely intercourse, the nicest way to put it. 

and even though your unexperienced self has certainly not been eye-fucking anyone from your position on the floor, there's a certain degree of expectancy that comes with simply being around them when you feel a tap on your shoulder from behind, the same expectancy that diminishes with jaemin's sober eyes that come into view as you turn. he holds a hand out and you take it, feathers flaunting in pride when hoots and hollers arise from the select few girls that remain, none of which you personally know.

taking his hand, he yanks you towards him with a surprising amount of force that contradicts the patient smile he's sporting. such force that he's employed has you almost instinctively pushing him in retaliation when he leans and whispers, low and steady and right above your ear, "why are you on the floor? it's dirty and half your ass is out."

you object, but only verbally because you let him tug you along, "and why is that any of your business?" it takes a few minutes of inebriated steps through the throng of sweltering bodies for you to realize that he's headed for the door.

you're seated on the front steps, eyes trailing his every move as he busies with shrugging his blue-wash denim jacket from his shoulders and tossing it across your own, as he folds in the right of his shirt that's lifted from its tuck, and as he lowers himself down onto the spot beside you. only then does he give a response to the question you'd asked earlier, and even then, it's half-hearted, "because...because you're gonna get yourself into something you don't want to be in if you keep acting like that."

reiterating, "and why would that be anything of your concern?"

jaemin leans back on both his palms, eyes flickering to the street before him and then to his side. the long glance he's subjected you to sends shudders down your spine and before you can follow through with complying to your desires and slipping away from his presence, he relents, "fine. it's not my problem and maybe i shouldn't have dragged you out here to tell you stuff that you clearly don't wanna hear," and you agree with his words, but only up until then for he goes on to say, "but y/n, i don't like seeing you stoop so low for attention. and i'd hate it if you got fucked by some fly you attracted with that ass of yours, especially since it's your first day of colle—"

"and especially since the way i present myself and the way i want to live my life has absolutely nothing to do with you." 

he shuts up at that, mouth closing before it attracts any flies of its own. you return the long glance you were given but replace the patronizingly patient smile with a scowl that's apparent as day in the flickering porch light. ripping your eyes from his hardened and frankly unreadable gaze, you click your tongue before stamping your heel to stand and, ignoring the slight sways your body has incorporated into its motor functions, you take your leave with no thought of how to get home; the party you'd just ditched had been hosted at some suburban house in the outskirts of the downtown district, meaning you don't even know where you are, to be exact.

your uber arrives around the time that you've completed your third lap around a nearby park, skin at the backs of both ankles bleeding and staining the sheeny nude of your new heels. the slam that you've shut the door with says much about your irritated state of mind. picking at the skin around your nails, you sneer at the thought of your hand in his, you regard his words with a heart full of contempt, and whatever considerate pointers he thought he gave with good intentions were painted with the same scowl that's yet to leave your face.

you don't bother to look in the direction of the gold '401' that gleams only a few feet away from your '402' on the wall. even the image of his front door lights a fitful of sour expressions that you're met with in the reflection. you watch the girl in the mirror slip off her heels and kick them to the side. you watch as she stares right back at you with these circles that hang from her eyes; they droop further the longer you stare. you watch as she rakes a few fingers through her disheveled hair, brushes a few fingers across where her mascara's been smudged. she's not nearly on the brink of tears but you fear that she couldn't seem any sadder, more disappointed in what she's come to see in herself.

head failing to hold its weight, she chunks through her thoughts like an algorithm chunks through probabilities. it's puzzling, what is it that has her feeling so warm in the coldest hour of night? is it the faux fur rug that splays beneath her bare bruised feet? the close walls of her studio entrance caging her breaths? the overhanging light that casts her shadow long?

straining her neck upright to catch a final glimpse of the girl in the mirror, she remembers with a part of her lips and the easing of the crease that knit her brows. she remembers the blue-wash denim jacket that hangs safe on her shoulders, keeping her warm in the coldest hour of night.

✧ 02 — GOOD MORNING, CATNIP

it's a habit garnered over time for jaemin to purchase a fair-sized bouquet of flowers once a week. he despises the romanticization of reserving flowers for a lover—though one might argue that he himself is the embodiment of romanticization—and so he gifts them to himself. he is his own lover, if you will. this week procures a simple bouquet of white gardenias girdled with bundles of baby's breath. he'd chosen it for himself, head ducking the questioning gaze of the granny at the register. with the curious amalgam of trust and compassion in hand, he pulls tight at the bow of rough twine that holds the stems and the newspaper scrappings in place. tucking the blooms under an arm, he leans into the door to his next stop of the morning, the bell tinkering as it falls shut behind him.

jaemin buys himself a stick of salted butter and a loaf of sliced focaccia bread, the one with pockets of cheddar garlic that the corner bodega sells as a wednesday special. he knows well enough that he's the first customer of the morning, he always is, but as he collects the change that's slid across the counter, head turning to the door with his body soon to follow, he's surprised to see that the second is already upon entering. 

he's even more surprised to see that it's you. jaemin finds himself loitering for a bit, the coins and the stick of butter now jostling in the front pocket of his sweatshirt as his arms see to a bouquet of flowers and a loaf of bread, each to each. petulantly, he tails behind you, close enough to be distinguished as company yet more than a wingspan of distance from your heels. you're not nearly as mad at jaemin as you let on, the frustrations blew over after a night of mitigating sleep that'd soothed your drunken temper. perhaps you were only so riled up that night because of how inebriated you barely recall to have been, you don't know, you didn't think about it much, but you put on a face of impassivity if only to mess with him.

turning back around, you reach for a packaged sandwich without much mind, ears perking as the boy from beside speaks up in your silence. "i like your outfit," is what he says and you halt in your actions, eyes stilling where they had been skimming the nutrition facts with feigned interest. briefly (though it doesn't elude his attention), you glance down at the thin midi skirt you've paired with a weeks-unwashed cornflower blue hoodie, scrunching your nose at the visible tea stain at the hem. your laconic, "thank you," should have been enough to ward off whatever else he was set to throw your way but he only furthers, "apologies, i should have said 'good morning' first," to which you find yourself suppressing a chuckle to.

wary, you set the sandwich down and reach for a bottled yogurt drink in its stead, one you recognize from your hometown mart and the one you were initially here to buy upon noticing it during your first grocery run after moving. jaemin moves along the aisle as you pick up and set down various items, all of which you do not intend to purchase. coming to a half in front of the wall of alcoholic beverages at the back of the shop, you ignore the baffled look he's sure to be sporting before acquiescing to his unsaid questions with an answer that satisfies none of them, "good morning to you too."

the modern times, fruitlands canned beer catches your eye, it's the one your crazy cool aunt always brings to family gatherings and you almost reach for it before a lurking employee rounds the corner and you're reminded that at your age, the most you can do is stare. jaemin, on the other hand, has had enough of stifling his own chuckle and it emits right as you reroute to the neighboring snack aisle. he lingers back for a moment, allows himself the pleasure of smiling back when you peer in questioning over the separating shelves. that in itself is enough to forefend whatever tensions had been brewing between the two of you.

jaemin's chin is just above your shoulder, peering over as you check out. the beverage and the two bags of chips total to seven dollars and you pay with a ten whilst the boy from behind rushes to get to the exit first. but upon realizing that he lacked the hands needed to pull the door open, you willingly accept his flower arrangement with your own extra hand. (laziness had overcame and cajoled you to slip another dollar for a plastic bag to carry everything.) a light breeze picks up the second you're out the door, jaemin in tow, and pivoting halfway brings you and him face to face with a hand outstretched to return the bouquet. 

he almost accepts it just as willingly as you had, an arm had already made it a third of the way, before his mouth decisively takes lead. jaemin shakes his head, hand falling back down to his side and the beginnings of a smile taking place, "keep it." 

maybe it would've been more polite to attempt refusing the offer at least once, a greater show of gratitude than the minimal, "okay," that you've responded with. at this point, you've long forgotten that your allotted play on impassivity has came and went with the tides of your exchange. it's now that you leave it behind.

jaemin finds himself hastening to press the crosswalk button for the two of you every time you come to a halt at an intersection; he chalks it up to your full hands. jaemin thinks that if the sidewalk congestion were to pick up anytime soon, he would have to sidle over and sling an arm around your shoulder; he chalks it up to not wanting to lose you in such a crowd. and when jaemin sees his (and your) apartment complex coming into view not a block away, he finds himself wishing that he'd never pressed the crosswalk buttons at all, if just to spend a few more seconds listening to you blather on about your introductory accounting class (you seem to have much to say about how much you despise the professor already). 

and when his front door clicks shut behind him, jaemin feels that he's only now starting to appreciate how the walls are paper thin, for not a second after he hears your own door shut, you've hit what sounds to be a set of drawers or the leg of a chair, and the strained wail you give is enough to get him smiling like a dumbfounded, though very besotted, idiot.

what little he knows of you has him strung high, held at the nape by the hands of something he knows he has no control over. unfortunate, for jaemin falls so easily, clumsily, as if he'd seen it coming and had already outstretched his arms in anticipation of hitting the cold, unforgiving ground with full force. it's unfortunate because to him, you're like catnip. and he might just play around with you until he loses interest.

✧ 03 — SWEET, DAINTY, AND READY TO STOMP ON PATRIARCHY

your eyes have been open for far too long, you're convinced of that with how your contacts seem to be dry plastered to the surface. this girl, mina, has half her weight upon you and you struggle to keep her upright as you fish for your phone with an unoccupied left hand. breaking out into open night, you find the metal and uncased back of your phone fares far colder than the streaks of wind that curl their way around your unclothed (for the most part, sheesh) legs.

the uber you've called comes in fourteen minutes and in that time, you've righted the girl upon your other side so that your right hand could handle the situation with a more practiced dexterity. mina's no longer mumbling incoherently, now that the door's shut behind you and the driver's swerved onto the crammed main road; it seems that the sudden breaks and acceleration of the nightly traffic have lulled her to sleep.

heedful of the lingering gazes that the driver, male and middle-aged, subjects you to from his angle of the rearview mirror, something inside you desperately wishes that you were the one that was asleep. you turn away, forfeiting the will to voice your unease at the brink of exhaustion.

your forehead pressed into the car window is bound to leave a nasty oil mark. you've sweated all night, toiled, labored to keep that silly smile on your face. and for every smile, smirk, wink you gave in the duration of the night, you now repent with a frown, groan, sigh through the early morning hours. 

here in the backseat, you gather the fragments of what tonight has left you and looking carefully, you realize there isn't much. your body feels as heavy as it feels light and at the core of your stomach knots a rabble of dead butterflies that once flew free. when the driver comments on your appearance, a tacky pickup line in tow, you give him a nod and a mumbled thank you. there isn't anything in you that's willing to put up a fight for you've already been at odds with yourself all night long.

you drag mina all the way into her sheets though you know she won't remember enough to offer you a bare thank you, much less remember who you are. having to strangle her drunk and resistant self into bed made it so as you returned back outside the dorm, the driver had already took off despite how 'sweet and dainty' he thought you looked. slipping your heels off, you walk back to your apartment in your itty-bitty skirt, paying no mind to the whistlers and hollerers that so often preyed upon 'sweet, dainty' young girls after dark.

your phone is on silent, you've made sure of it, but that doesn't stop the incessant lighting of your screen as notification after notification surfaces. so-and-so tagged you in a post, so-and-so dm-ed you, follow request, liked your post, liked your post, added you into here and mentioned you here. you get drunk on the thought of being in the limelight, yet you're drowned in isolation the moment you sober up. and on nights like these, as frequent as they have come to be, you seek after your consolation on the rusted grail of your fire escape, adjacent of a certain someone's.

"you're still up at this hour?"

"yes."

"do you have class tomorr—today?"

"yes."

and then hesitantly… "did you have fun tonight?"

"no."

jaemin takes your monosyllables with an eyeful of surmise. he doesn't push it and hopes his solidarity is just as much present in his silence. if anything, the way you've lowered your back down onto the upper steps of your fire escape tells much of your reluctance to converse with him. that is his belief for you to contradict. "jaemin?"

"yes?"

spangled upon the cleavage you've left for any and all eyes to feast upon are a disco-balled assemblage of lights, filtered through the grated slats of the upper steps you were lain below. he thinks you look lovely this way, scintillating though shadowed, raw though clothed. jaemin keeps the thoughts to himself, holding his breath to remind him that they aren't for you to hear and only for him to think.

jaemin might faint in the tight guard of his breaths for the fabrication of your own thoughts into words comes slow, as anything might in the hour of four. the streets below hold only two or three streams of vehicles, the moon takes her time traversing from one end of the earth to the other, and as languidly as you can, you place the words in your mouth one by one. 

"i'm lonely as fuck."

swallowing, you prop yourself up on your elbows to gain leverage with your combating inner voices by means of his encouraging eyes, affectionate eyes. in the split second between your last and next word, you decide that you like his eyes, or at least the way he looks at you with them. the instilled sense of belonging that comes with meeting them with your own.

"but why is it that some people only make me feel lonelier instead of...accompanied?"

jaemin lets his resumed breaths even out before venturing for an answer. he could say many things. 'because you get along with some people more than others,' or 'because not everyone can provide the presence that you need,' or 'because you just aren't associating yourself with the right people' but he finds that none of them really encapsulate the situation at hand. he barely knows you, what can he possibly say that you would take to heart any more than the first three pinterest-derived quotes that come up when you key in the same question you just asked?

so he lets the reinstated evenness of his breaths predicate the wanderings of his mind, trusting that his offerings could hold some, any worth in the haggard sighs you've been concealing all the while. he trusts that he has something, anything that he could use to comfort you, though your ailments unbeknownst and his means yet to be discovered. jaemin rides on intuition when he peers past the fog that screen between his thoughts and his vision to see that you've thrown your sights elsewhere, distractedly, indolently. 

and so he starts, "look at me."

you comply.

"y/n, tell me about you."

"what?"

"tell me all about you, i wanna know everything."

"why d- what do you mean by everything?"

jaemin doesn't mean to smile. but what choice does he have when he's the object of your attention? really, it only widens as he rambles on, gesticulations in hand, "just like...you, you and your lucky number, and your least favorite food, and the color you like to see most in the sky, and— and, i don't know, which of your parents you secretly like better."

"i— uhh okay. uhm," you've since forgoed the use of your elbows, sitting up attentively as you retrace the list he'd given. "my lucky number's four," you count it off with a finger, "i hate eating anything orange," another finger, "and uhh, i think blue looks nice, just blue," a third finger, "and as for my parents," your hand drops, "i don't know." you utter the last with such sureness that contradicts the unsure nature of the words itself. 

jaemin knows, but he doesn't push it, "fine by me." and your eyes make their way back to his. they're lined in a sort of understanding and some other peculiarity you've yet to get a grasp on, perhaps that's why you like them so much. he muses now, a little something that everyone always puts out there, but he'd shrug at its frequency because he genuinely wishes to know. "what's your dream then?"

and as common a question it may be, its predecessors you've answered, your remnant tipsy and worn out state, and your ever-growing fondness for the boy has your brows furrowed in thought. you've no idea how you stumbled upon this specific of an answer to his inquiry — maybe it really is a dream of yours that you've unearthed in this unprecedented moment — and you find yourself drawling out your deliberations, laying them thinly before him, "my dream is to go dinnerware shopping with the love of my life."

jaemin has the gall to laugh, or what comes in the form of a chuckle cut short by a disapproving tilt of your head on your end. he collects himself and in the place of the laugh that barely sounded, jaemin deadpans, "really." and you've never been more diligent in clapping back, "yes really! i can't believe i told you my lifelong dream and you laugh."

he doesn't know what it is with him but that's the exact sentence that sets it off for good, his peals of laughter rippling full and warm in his chest and inciting a similar aftermath in your own disposition. first, it's the curve of a betraying corner of your lips. then, perhaps the other corner felt a little lonely. finally, your smile comes in full bloom. you wish it would stop there but with your smile comes jaemin's laugh and with his laugh comes a certain helplessness that has you laughing alongside him, cut clean of whatever composure had held you back in the first place.

insanity has it so that two people, one very much deranged and the other almost in the likes, squeeze on the steps of their neighboring fire escapes, basking in either the conjoined limbs of their laughter or in the light of the promising sun. and only when the sun begins to cast a shadow across the lines of your face does insanity give way to its own neighbor, love.

nimbly, you fiddle with the hem of your skirt, in wonderment of how that smile refused to make its way off your face as long as jaemin's remained on his. you shake your head at that and leave a thought for him to supply. 

"what was all that for?" 

and as if it were no wonder, he simply shrugs, "to accompany you."

✧ 04 — THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF ALL HUMAN GESTURES

soojin hands out dirty looks like it's her job to issue free coupons and it seems that on this fateful day, you're the designated recipient. to add to that, she doesn't bother to keep the hiss out of her voice when she...hisses, "why didn't you tell me you knew him?" to which you shrug, "i didn't think it mattered." her eyebrows must be in pain for how long they've stayed scrunched like that, though yours assume the same position when she takes hold of the cup in your hand, bringing it to her nose for a whiff.

the inner-workings of your mind sincerely wish that she doesn't take a sip; you'd hate for even a smidgen of her cherry red lipstick to stain where you'd be drinking from but to your relief, soojin merely places the cup back in your hand, a disdained glower taking shape as she mutters, "ugh, tea. no wonder he gave it to you." unwelcome, albeit brief, soojin exaggerates her point with a scene of fake gagging, stopping her tracks in bafflement as she watches you take a sip. "wha— why would you drink that?!"

you set it down on the table before she can slap it out of your hands (as you're sure she would). and complacently, you offer, "because it would be rude if i didn't at least make a show of drinking it." soojin nods at that — your complacency with her antics has yet to fail you — and begins to say something along the lines of a, "that's true, don't want to give him the wrong idea when he's sitting right there," when the professor barges in with ragged breaths to be reckoned with at an age like his.

the remnants of the tea have gone cold by the time class is about to come to a close, and past the time it does, there's none left. you glance up to an empty lecture hall, (soojin had ditched immediately after attendance was called), and you revert your eyes back onto your laptop screen, trying to tie up your notes with whatever last thoughts lingered. concentration turned to the max, the pattering of incessant typing masks the sound of steps that come your way and by the time you happen to notice, your laptop has been folded shut and you're in the midst of packing away your belongings.

"how was the tea?"

you almost swing your bag at him in surprise, "oh for fuck's sake jaemin! there's no need to creep up on me." sipping on the last third of his four shot espresso, he swallows whilst shooting you a bashful grin and nothing else. jaemin takes your backpack by its straps before you can even reach for it, the bashful grin waning to reveal more of a kind-eyed smile. "well..." you start, a few steps behind as he heads for the exit, "it was good, just how i like it."

neither of you ask or answer but the dialogue is written in the way he beckons you, one hand on the open door of his car and the other gesturing you inside. it's told soundlessly in the way you slip in with a smile instead of a 'thanks' and it's smeared all over the way he doesn't tell you a thing about where you're off to, if anywhere at all. 'is this a date?' you don't dare to question aloud. 'it's a date,' jaemin doesn't dare to audibly reply.

how else could you classify an outing to the local record shop with snail-shaped cinnamon rolls in hand? one second you're looking over a copy of a 1975 vintage a charlie brown christmas LP with mild interest and the next, it's in jaemin's right hand as the left hand reaches for his pocketed wallet and as his feet carry him towards the register. suddenly he's become deaf to your "no's" and your "i don't really need it's" which soon turn into "thank you's" and "i'll pay you back's." now tell me, how is this not a date?

you're humming along to some pop song the radio's blasting when jaemin pulls over alongside the curb of your shared apartment complex. while you're busying with your belongings, school bag and all, jaemin rushes over to your side of the car and tugs open the door for you, a very standard gentlemanly action on his part. you, contrarily, almost have the audacity to form a scoff, but your audacity falls forth into a deep churn of fondness when the hand of yours he's taken is brought to his lips, his eyes steady on yours. feigning disgust, you retract your hand, only to find it folded into his own not a second after.

shutting the door behind you and double checking the lock, you release the carried tension of your muscles as you slide down the yellow-painted backside, elbow hitting the door knob along the way. your bag, slung from the same elbow, hits the floor first, followed by the rest of your weight and then you're slumped with your legs splaying before you like a doll when forgotten in the shadow of adulthood. shallow breaths even themselves and you begin to collect the little fragments of your mind that sit unprocessed amidst the chest-pounding, blush-inducing, and heart-fluttering you've been subjected to ever since you'd met a certain boy named jaemin.

you hold to your heart your hardened knuckles, lined with the ghost of his lips. and when that isn't enough, you bring them up to your own. there's traces of a sort of longing that you've yet to place a name on; hand to your lips, you find that even when your mind tries to trick yourself into thinking they are his, they ring of a bitterness in the remembrance that it was once his in their place. it's then that you realize you've landed yourself upon your favorite act of adoration, your favorite in the encyclopedia of all human gestures.

the arrival of fall marks the anticipation of fall break, thanksgiving, then the 100 meter sprint to winter break, christmas. tis the season to love and to be loved, for when you'd complained to jaemin on the ride back that buying the LP was for naught since you weren't in possession of a record player in the first place, he'd shaken his head and simply tucked it under an arm, taking it back to his own place as if he hadn't actually bought it for you. tis the season for humming along to far too early christmas music blaring sleazily through the paper-thin wall that rises between you and him. tis the season to live out your inner hallmark christmas movie: suburb girl meets city boy, business major meets psychology major, unit 402 meets 401, bumps into each other at the local mart, flowers that found their way from the hand of one to the other.

so that every time he buys himself a bouquet of flowers he'll think of buying them for you, and every time you brew yourself a fresh cup of tea, you'll think of receiving a cup from him. whatever lines you seem to draw between the two of you only seem to amplify the longing that ensures you maintain eye contact for a second longer and submit to his every gesture of chivalry. he courts you as if you were a maiden from the middle ages and not, in fact, a modern woman. na jaemin is consistent, he is sturdy, sound, secure, and you want to give in to the comfort you've never sought for in anyone else. you want to build a home out of him.

✧ 05 — YOUR TURN

you don't know how, or why, it is that you always end up here. the metal is a little colder, a trace of early winter perhaps, and it sears a little different than what you're used to, a little more scarring, begging for your attention. fisting and unfisting your hands gives them no warmth; it's the kind of night where the wind drops the temperature with bitter breeze, reluctant to give into the quiet night. yeah, you're at a loss on why you would step out here at all.

perhaps the boy just across from you has a thing or two to say about it. his shirt hangs thin under a thick leather jacket, open nonetheless, and his posture leans slack on the steps, legs outstretched and nonchalant. you, on the other hand, at the precipice of shivering, take it upon yourself to start up the conversation this night, "why don't you just come over? aren't you cold?"

he shakes his head, at which question exactly you're unsure, and you take from that to perceive his disposition as quiet for the night. startled at first, you've long become accustomed to his 'mood swings' that come day by day. it'd be a sunny morning and he'd mask his temperament with curt nods and taciturn speech just like how it's now a starry night and he isn't much different.

there's a few things you've come to know about na jaemin. one: he's picky with his friends. they're either close or they're just not friends which makes it particularly hard to decipher where you fall, if not in between. two: he's rich, to an almost filthy extent. not that he boasts about it but his bmw, which you frequent, and the tiny 'gucci' emblem on his wallet say a lot on their own. you wonder why he's living in a studio apartment instead of a penthouse and you wonder why he even bothers to take the bus at times. other times, you think it's only because you take the bus. he's not exactly keen on hiding his…crush — or whatever sophisticated term college people use — on you and you're not the type to be completely oblivious to how he acts around you and also how he spea— no, flirts with you. which leads you to three: na jaemin is known to be the quintessential campus 'hottie' but also the campus 'playboy.' and though you know enough of him to agree with the former and counter the latter, you can't help but take into account what else you'd heard, albeit from haeun. 

records of his past relationships are plentiful but never overlapping. he goes after girls one by one, quite devotedly at that, unfailingly running through the same four pit stops: courting, dating, fucking, nothing. what seems to be the start of a healthy, fulfilling relationship always ends up in a dwindling friends with benefits situation. you'd asked her why and haeun only shrugged, "he likes playing with girls that way. i'm guessing you're his next victim."

you'd squinted your eyes at her in a nonsensical confusion, "victim?" bitterly, haeun threw back another shot of diluted vodka. setting it down, she moved to leave with a sort of soberness you'd never seen in her eyes, not in class, not before parties, not at the twenty-four-hour mcdonald's after parties. leaning in to sail her voice across the blaring speakers up above, you caught the stilted smile she pulled before tonelessly muttering, "you think i like being drunk all the time?" she was two steps away, already out of earshot, before you could call her back to ask.

to ask her if whatever you were getting yourself into was worth it. to ask her if he'd done the same to her, gifting flowers, drinks, rides, smiles, touches, some more touches. she was gone before you could ask if it was normal to still feel this way after knowing. 

but looking at him now, you think you could answer that for her.

"jaemin," as if his eyes weren't already on yours, attention trained solely on you, "tell me...tell me about you."

"me?" he has a husky voice, the kind that's only reserved to when he's tired or freshly woken up, the one a.m. kind of voice. he has the kind of voice you wish you weren't attracted to. "yes, you."

"what about me do you want to know?"

you give a moment of decisiveness until you come to this: "i want to know about your first love."

jaemin's countenance remains unfazed at this question you've popped, there's no smile, no nod of acknowledgement, nothing to tell that he may be uncomfortable in answering but his brief answer tells of much anyways. "i was in high school," is about as far as he gets before trailing off and tapering with a, "and it was a pretty bad breakup."

what you're not expecting is for him to revert back to, "what about you?" and you have the gall to look him straight in the eye and say straight to his face, "i've never been in love." he asks you, "why not?" you shrug, "just never felt loved, that's all."

with the silence that's made its appearance right after your statement, you can tell that he's just about ready to call it a night. it's right when you're thinking the thought that jaemin starts out, slow and deliberate in the forming of each word. "if i met you back in high school, maybe even middle school, everything would be so different now, don't you think?"

a tilt of your head, "how so? you didn't know me at sixteen."

he shakes his head, light in humor, but his tone is seeped in conviction, "all those years of— of you wanting to be loved and me loving too much," jaemin swallows, licks his lips, blinks languidly, "i didn't know you at sixteen, but i wish i did."

✧ 06 — SEEING TRIPLE

there's this thing you'll come to know, sooner or later in your life, that while kindergarteners are taught to tell of four seasons — spring, summer, autumn, and winter — you've come to know of a fifth called na jaemin. you live perpetually under the skies of his gazes, the winds of his voice, the rays of his smiles. but the thing is, you've no idea when the seasons even began to change.

well it began in class, a little under a month ago, that in the corner of your eye, you saw the chair angled slightly in your direction as he pulled out the seat to your left; your suspicions told you it was so he could be an inch closer. and then it was a week or so ago with his hand clasped tight in yours, swinging as he pulled you around the mall to find the pair of shoes you'd mentioned in passing a few days back. and then the calendar marks today when he'd stopped you in your tracks just outside your last class, ditching his teasing friends to accompany you home. right up to the moment the pair of you arrive back to your respective residences, the most recent of his laughters still fresh and ringing in your ears.

hand on the wall to keep you steady, you rushedly shuffle off your sneakers, subsequently sprinting across the room in fast steps, tossing your bagful of textbooks and notes onto the bed as you pass. one hand capping the new lipgloss you've just applied to your bottom lip, the far left window is swung open and to your equal parts dismay and delight, the boy you've just parted with is already there, a snarky "beat you" rolling off the tip of his tongue.

you talk to him and you know that he is listening. he tells you of a little something different he's sees on your lips and you remark, "is it that noticeable?" and all he has to say is, "not particularly, i think i just look at you too much." and then a sudden warmth floods your cheeks and then he smiles a little more and then you exchange glances after avoiding each others gazes for the past four seconds and then and then and then...

then you'll drift off to sleep later in the night, window open, with the same thoughts of the same boy plaguing whatever it was you'd studied the hour before, you don't remember what exactly. and it's then that your nightly paracosms are dreamt and dreamt and dreamt until they can no longer be contained by mere imagination but have been forced into reality. for when you awaken and his loving smile is the first thing that comes to mind, you know for certain that all you want, all you desire is more and more and more.

suddenly the words that come out of your mouth are no longer english when talking to him, and what he hears is this language that only he understands. what you knew of love languages falls short when neither of yours can be confined to simply 'physical touch' or 'acts of service' because the language you speak encompasses much more than just a mutual feeling. it becomes a mentality by which every little thing is perceived, an umwelt of sorts that only you and him are privy to. 

to the left of your ears, soojin cups her hand as if she were to whisper but speaks rather loudly anyways. "i assume you guys have been fucking around." and to that you give her a sheepish smile paired with no audible answer, reluctant to flat out lie to her face. it's then that jaemin chooses to direct a glance towards you, the corner of his lip lifting when your eyes meet. soojin recaptures your attention as she muses on, "lucky you." 

and indeed, lucky is how you feel when you are still the object of his attention even when you have looked away. when he comes to a stop right by your side as soon as the lecture ends, your side and no one else's, special is what he makes of you. to be the girl that jaemin chooses to spend his mornings, afternoons, and nights with is what makes you stand apart from the crowd. and of all the new faces he came back to see this year, jaemin wanted to admire yours, he wanted to hold your hand, and it's you that he reaches out to steady when the turbulent bus jostles you all around.

in a way, it's jaemin that hushes and feeds your deep-rooted thirst for attention. mitigating it yet simultaneously making you addicted to his presence, so much so that if he were to leave you alone for even a fraction of a day, you'd ache in places you've never known. and indeed, you might never know seeing as how day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute you are already so preoccupied with his eyes, and then his lips, and the heights of his cheekbones, and his long lashes. you can imagine how hard it'd be to see past it all. because na jaemin fills you so completely, silencing your needs and replacing them with himself, so that the only thing you find yourself returning to at the beginning and end of everyday is him. again, and again, and again.

✧ 07 — THE END OF THE BEGINNING

na jaemin is about as blunt as it gets. he's the type of person who says things just as he feels and thus, always has something to say. but with that being said, na jaemin is also having a inexplicably hard time replying to this one text.

in short, it reads: coming? but if jaemin were to expatiate further, he'd start by commenting on the picture accompanying the single-worded question. objectively, he doesn't mind it. you look nice in that dress, the sweetheart neckline and the thin black fabric teetering on the skimpy side. he has no problem with that, nor does he have a problem with the shot glass in your hand. what he does have a problem with is the fact that it was sent by someone you don't even know, nor is he close with. his phone screen auto locks after staring for too long and upon turning it back on, he's met with the time. —11:32 PM

jaemin's apartment is dark when he thrusts open the front door, the stopper hitting the wall behind with such force that has it shaking. whereas he was only mildly irritated before, his frustration is now strung high with how he'd forgotten his car keys in his initial rush to get out the house, as if taking the bus would be a viable option with how tight he is on time. jaemin utters a single, "fuck," because again in his rush, he'd forgotten to switch on the lights. the darkness is making it hard to distinguish what exactly he's grabbing at, seeing as he's now fumbling with the contents of the top drawer. brow knitting, regrets pile onto each other.

double checking his pockets this time, jaemin takes a second to make sure that he has his wallet and phone before shutting the car door. it's been a while since he last drove — frequenting the bus a lot more with no reason other than you — and the feeling of cold leather beneath his fingers evokes an awoken familiarity. pulling out, the same fingers part from the wheel to key in the address. at this time of year, this day of the week, this time of the day, the streets are congested to no avail. jaemin finds his eyes transfixed on the perpetually stationary car in front of him. cold leather to warm, his fingers have tapped their way into a halt as the same car pulls up a good seven feet before settling again. following in suit, jaemin wonders that if driving isn't the most efficient, perhaps running would be a better candidate against time. —11:48 PM

he gets there just fine, seated in his car, for penthouse parties are never too far if you live in the heart of the city. it's only now that he runs the length from his parked car to the lobby elevator, ignoring the stares of bewildered loiterers. between his heavy pants, jaemin registers the ding before the elevator doors open in sequence and when he hurries out, he finds himself caught in a horde of college students, all dressed to the nines and all heavily intoxicated. heart pounding, he claws his way through the cacophony of clinking glasses, loud laughter and shuffling feet, only to find that though the foyer, living room, and kitchen are all preoccupied to the max, you're nowhere to be seen.

ten. jaemin gives a tight smile to some girl from his anatomy class, prying off her fingers that had roped their way around his wrist. nine. jaemin ducks the spray of champagne from his left, brushing off any residue that might've made its way onto the shoulders of his leather jacket. eight. jaemin approaches a girl with a similar silhouette, tapping her on the shoulder and apologizing promptly when met with an unfamiliar face. seven. jaemin thinks he almost got himself laid at the hands of that woman, whoever she was, who had disregarded his apology and pulled him (a little too) close. six. jaemin can still feel her threatening stare on his back as he squirms his way between a canoodling couple, another mistake of his for now there are three pairs of eyes trailing him. five. jaemin begins to doubt his chances, thinking of maybe even accepting the poorly poured glass of champagne (one-fifth champagne, four-fifths fizz) being offered to him. four. jaemin declines, rerouting to a hall he has yet to venture down; somewhere, there's a cupid nodding frantically in encouragement. three. jaemin happens upon a set of glass doors that opens up to an outdoor terrace. it's there that he finds the precise silhouette that his mind has been obsessing over all night long. two. for the first time in his life, the cupid finds that he has no use for his bow and arrow.

"jaemin? what the fuck are you do —"

one.

your mind is lost to his touch, his smell, his eyes on yours, confecting and amalgamating in the pits of your stomach, reanimating the wings of butterflies that fell limp long ago. his touch sears the lines of your back, traces the curves of your elbows, the serrations of your chapped lips, messily nudging the rise and fall of your philtrums. one moment it's elusive, the ability to part and proclaim a mistake palpable yet untouched, for the next, it's voracious, feeding a hunger that has withstood the ensnarements of time; a kiss like water to parched lips.

and it's between those moments that jaemin feels it so upfront. his fortitude surrendering before his eyes to reveal every thread of his sentiments towards you, each delicate and negligible in itself but monumental at whole. he only parts from you when the need to breathe becomes greater than the need for your lips to be on his. and even then, the distance is barely discernible, a mere exchange of heavy breaths. jaemin kisses you again, short and sweet, before drawing back to peer into your shaded eyes. he notes with a keen shrewdness that though the scent of alcohol, a sort of wine, had lingered on your breath, your eyes bled sober. he kisses you again. 

and again, and again, and again until he knows for certain that you're just as drunk as he is. the kind of drunk that couldn't amount from any kind of booze. the kind that comes from staring at someone for too long and the kind that comes from seeing that same someone take the seat you've been saving for them. it comes from hearty 'good mornings' and slurred 'goodnights' shared over the cityscape and under an upstair neighbor's fire escape. it's the kind of drunk that can't help but surface when a boy leaves his second thoughts behind as he rushes like there's no tomorrow to find this girl that now has her forehead pressed against his, and her lips brushing against his as they form a, "happy new year, jaemin," with unsaid 'i love you's' ringing in his ears. —12:02 AM

✧ 08 — THE BEGINNING OF THE END

you don't remember when the words 'coronavirus' and 'quarantine' started to become part of your everyday lingo but you can imagine that the moment they did, things were never the same. 

at first, you marked his passivity as simple tediousness. he looked tired, that's all. you figured his mood swings and their fickle nature were taking their time of day to roll through. one early lecture, he'd duck your glances and the next he'd play footsies with you under the table. monday afternoon and he'd let you tag along on his routine outing to the mart, then friday night and he'd bid you farewell as soon as you'd stepped upon the fire escape.

classes moved online and it was sometime then that his mood swings lengthened until the most you could get out of him were clipped greetings and facial expressions that could never be read with a mask covering half his face and a hoodie pulled down over the other half. the way you saw it, jaemin's held you at arm's distance ever since the new year's began, far enough so he could keep to himself but within reach for whenever he needed you close.

it was eight p.m. on a tuesday night and you were drinking alone, the sun long gone but you'd forgotten or neglected to turn on the lights anyways. and in the dark and quiet resounded two knocks from the wall that separated you and your troubles. from then, it was two seconds before you were out of bed, fixing your hair, pulling a hoodie over a low-cut tank. two minutes before you were out the door and a step away from the one adjacent, slipping in as soon as access had been granted like a routine that'd been practiced days, weeks, and months over.

how unsurprised you were to see, and feel, and understand how you'd played along so willingly. in truth, jaemin never asked for much; he didn't have to when you gave your all so easily. there was no satisfaction of 'i knew it' and no anger of 'how could you do this to me.' you knew that jaemin loved you, but he loved you no more than how he'd loved everyone else. in the room, in this bed, on these sheets, there was once a haeun, a mina, and a dozen names of girls you've never met and would never know. though somehow, you know exactly how they felt in this very moment.

relinquishing your hand from his chest, you opt to lay on your back instead. jaemin doesn't stir from beside you, soft snores indicating he's out for the night. and for the night, you're left to observe the outlines of his unlit room from your spot on his bed, as you're sure you've done a number of times beforehand. you make out shadows of furniture and silhouettes of belongings, all within the same layout as your own little studio. but whether it's the doing of the blatant darkness or whatever fate your relationship with him has succumbed to in such a fleeting amount of time, his place feels unbearably cold and you feel equally as unwelcome.

you can see exactly where you stand on the progression of courting, dating, fucking, nothing. and in one thought, you reasoned with why you had to be the puppet to the puppeteer and came short of nothing more logical than what you already knew. you fell in love with jaemin, the kind of love that burned like the sun that rises day in and retires day out, perpetually. whereas his love for you was born of a match, instantaneous and short-lived. and whilst you've always been ready, eager almost, to receive the adoration he once willingly showered upon you, you and him both know that he didn't have it in him to pursue anything more than that.

you didn't need him to show you the way out.

for the first time, jaemin wakes up to an empty bed. and when he logs onto his chinese culture i class 40 minutes into the lecture, the little image of you on his screen looks as unbothered as ever. he swallows thickly, wondering how long he can keep you at arm's distance, far enough to quell his unease but within reach to satiate his greed.

there's a bad taste in his mouth and as he swallows and swallows through the day; it begins to knot in his stomach, weighing him down like pebbles and later boulders of regret, confusion, and anxiety, to say the least. his last string snaps at three in the morning when he's sure you're awake — the sound of your shower had stopped only few minutes ago — but you've yet to make your appearance at his door even after his desperate four knocks on the wall above his bed.

at some point around five or six in the morning, he's given up on trying to sleep his worries away. they're not going anywhere, not when they've rooted themselves so deeply within him, and especially not when they're grown from the seeds he'd planted oh-so long ago, only now sprouting their leaves.

if there's one thing that na jaemin has always been good at, it's loving and giving and caring with all he has, until he has nothing. and if there's one thing that na jaemin has fervently avoided for the greater part of the last four years, it's loving and giving and caring with all he has, until he has nothing. and so he loves, and gives, and cares just enough so that he can protect himself with what's left, move on, and then repeat. because once upon a time, he learned a lesson that told him that loving someone with all your might doesn't mean they love you any more or any less. na jaemin was sixteen when he thought he'd moved on, when really it was then that he began running from his past.

na jaemin was twenty when he first met you, a brief lock of eyes amidst your fumbling of keys, suitcase in the other hand. he thinks that it was perhaps that exact moment, or the exchange of smiles afterwards, that got his mind working towards a new agenda. new because even though most everything he'd experienced with you was nothing short of new on paper, every glance felt stolen and every touch felt forbidden. he loved the way you loved him, unrestrained and generous, but in hindsight he knows that that was only because you'd awoken a part of him that had forgotten what that kind of love felt like.

warm. it felt warm like the sun on his bare back. your hands were always warm and your eyes were always warm, and on days where the wind would pick up a little more than usual, he'd feel the urge to wrap you around him like a warm blanket, or hold you in the palm of his hands like a cup of warm tea. 

fondly, he'd come to understand that what he saw in you was liberating, yes, but it was also reflective of the teenage boy he'd scampered away from, the one that never dared to confront his feelings and capped them the moment they proved the teensiest bit overwhelming. and in that, he first recognized the difference between you and them and them and you. it was in that, that he came across the fine line that made you the outlier in all the girls he'd ever spent a night with.

to like is skin-deep, wading in shallow waters and on the precipice of being overrun with a wave. but to love is bone-deep, interminably submerged and continually in search of each other's hands amidst the bleak and unforgiving ocean floor.

and now swept within your currents, jaemin finds himself drowning.

✧ 09 — AS HE WOULD AN ORANGE

lately, it feels as if the walls of your little home were more and more akin to the metal bars of a cage. with the world closing up, city by city, you feel yourself becoming increasingly suffocated by your own presence, sick of the same air you've been breathing, the same cereal you've been eating, the same day repeating itself over and over again. picking at the undersides of your overgrown nails, you huff a sigh and decide it's worth the risk, anything is at this point.

yet the moment you step out onto the metal grate of your fire escape, the pair of eyes that widen upon your emergence makes the hairs on your skin stand erect, wary and above all, regretful. with half your body already out the exit, you think that perhaps not even your escape plan could fall through, let alone plan B (play it cool), or plan C (flat out ignore him). and so you position yourself across him, as you've done countless times, and purse your lips in expectancy for him to start a conversation. after all, he couldn't fuck you from all the way over there (plus social distancing says it's illegal now).

the first words that leave his mouth have your eyes narrowed and guard drawn high. "you've been avoiding me, haven't you?" and though his voice almost fairs disheartened in tone, you still grimace as you reply cautiously, "yeah, yeah i have."

no matter how terribly your words milk the blood from his heart, jaemin has to hold off from excusing himself because he doubts he'd get to see you elsewhere, if not here and now. but the thick wall of tension that sits between the two of you doesn't waver, doesn't budge, and only seems to multiply a tenfold as the seconds trudge onwards. words go unsaid in this moment, and unlike before they hold no secret admiration, no pent-up desires. rather they pulsate with cues of unanswered questions and forlorn what-if's.

you look briefly up at him, eyes flickering back to your fiddling thumbs in the silence that only seems awkward from an outsider's perspective. after clearing your throat, you fix your gaze back up at him, eyes lined with a resolute determination to get over with the next uncomfortable minutes. plan B, it is, you think, some small talk will have to do. 

"did you hear about the party later tonight?"

"yeah, at the meadow's huh?" and you nod, following up, "it's supposed to be the last one jangho's hosting before lockdown, or at least publicly." then it's his turn to nod.

you weren't close with jangho, by any means, but he was that one senior in your major with all the connections and all the girls. at this point, you weren't sure if it was the connections that got him the girls or the other way around. one thing was for sure though: his parties weren't something you wanted to miss.

tentatively, you give, "...i'm thinking of going with soojin and the girls."

perhaps it's that very line that threw everything amiss.

it starts with a quiet, "oh." and then a feeble protest, "i'm not sure if that's a good idea," to which you feebly counter, "well, i'll be safe about it and most of the people going probably aren't even infected." now jaemin questions with a little more bite in his tone, "and how do you know?"

uncomfortably, you shift in your spot, "i don't, i just— i don't know, it should be fine—"

"y/n, you need to take these things more seriously."

his interruption, his clipped tone, his stern eyes. something gets to you and you don't skip a beat when you blurt, "are you telling me not to go?" voice tainted in disbelief. and to even more of your disbelief, he does anything but relent. "i can't tell you to do anything but honestly, it's a really fucking dumb idea—"

your tone drops in warning, "jaemin, stop—"

"i'm not kidding, y/n. that party is literally asking to get people killed, don't just go throwing yourse—"

"—just stop. stop it, jaem. stop trying to fucking control me—"

"i'm not trying to control you, i'm jus—"

"what? looking out for me? is that what you're gonna say?"

catching your breath, you feel your frustrations boiling within you until you can't take it anymore. the slightest indication of tears begin to spill over and with it comes the rain, in broken and sharp-edged words.

"if you were really trying to look out for me, then maybe you should let me make my own decisions. i'm a fucking adu—"

"you and that 'i'm an adult' and 'i'm all independent' front that you put on all the time. be honest with yourself, please. why do you even hang out with people like them? or is it because of that— because you're lonely?"

he knows that he's struck a chord within you when you begin to choke up your sobs, hiccupping over your words, "shut up, jaemin, you...you don't know what you're talking about." and then you're gasping for air, unafraid of what he may think of you because you have never in your life, felt so powerless. to you, his mere presence is penetrating, his trained attention hollows out your insides, and though you still find yourself breathless under his stare, more than anything, you feel starkly vulnerable, unabashedly naked.

nevertheless, jaemin continues to pick apart your raw, exposed skin because in this moment, all he wants is to unearth the depths of you. he wants to peel you open, casually as he would an orange, and in the process drawing out the worst, the most vile, and the truest parts you have to offer. "is it?" he presses on.

jaemin is fueled by the idea of getting you to hate him. at any rate, that's the way it should be after he's led you on, toyed with your feelings, played pretend. but really, it's not the guilt that drives him. in the heat, he's convinced that he'll push your buttons until the very moment he's rid of you. because only then, only then does he believe he'll be absolved of his sins. only when you've forced him out of your life. just the way it should be.

"is it because you think you have to be one of them to fit in?"

and just the way it should be, your resolve snaps in two.

"okay yes. maybe i want to fit in. maybe all i want is a reputation. maybe— maybe i crave everyone's attention an- and validation. so what if that makes me a bitch? people like me, jaemin."

"y/n, people don't like you. people like when you go to parties with them and all your upperclassmen friends like that they have a freshie to corrupt when no one's looking and boys like that you let them throw themselves all over y—"

"are you saying that i'm a pushover now?!"

"yes, you're a fucking pushover. what else would you be?! all you do is say yes to everything they ask of you and let them drag you around when you know it's not worth it, and what's even worse is that you like it."

when the tears clear out of your eyes, jaemin comes to see that all that's left in them is fear. what he isn't quite sure of is whether you're more scared of him or rather yourself. now with that pang in your eyes and the hurt splayed across your face, jaemin must admit that he doesn't feel any more absolved than mere minutes ago. the floodgates open and it's only now that he's swamped in his own guilt because in the midst of everything, he'd neglected your feelings in place of his own. only he would feel relieved if he were to be cut from your life, but it would be the same as twisting a knife he'd planted in your side. only he would rest easy knowing that his past had not caught up to him, but in turn he would've carved out a past for you to run from. there is no immediate, nor eventual relief that comes from cutting you wide open.

there you sit, right across from him, gathering the littered pieces of your esteem and hoping and wishing that maybe a little later you could stitch them back together by hand, or by some drinks, or by a loud and noisy social gathering. and there you stand, one hand anchoring you to the rail and the other fumbling with the window latch, countenance steeled and voice guarded when you next speak, "well then i guess you must know i only ever wasted my time with you so i could tell everyone that we're fucking."

your last glance at him isn't wistful, nor is it solemn in any way. rather it's steeped and invigorated in spite, because in reality, not a word of the argument had arisen from his concerns of your safety, nor were you displeased at his attempts to keep you from going. all you know is that your throat is freshly hoarse from yelling lie after lie, your head is spinning from being stumped at every turn, your body is swaying from having to hold your weight upright. and to the boy at the center of all your love, your happiness, your troubles, and your world, all you had to say was, "goodnight, jaemin."

✧ 10 — YOU FUCKING BITCH! GIVE ME BACK MY HAIR!

the world came to a decisive standstill mid-march and with it passed the paling seasons of your first love. it's hard to say that you'd seen this coming. though in hindsight, you wondered why you were always late to the party.

"y/n, over here!" soojin holds up a half-empty glass of chugged beer and sets it atop the bar where you've come to sit. tucking your fake id into the left slip of your bra, you wave off her saliva-infused beer offering to call for something a little heavier. but before you could get out the first syllable of the jungle in jungle juice, a hand snakes its way around your waist, breath not far behind to breach the skin of your neck. fully sober, you're a thought away from swatting at the curious thumb of his that was currently fussing with the hem of your skirt, but you digress. you were here to have a little fun, not keep to yourself. 

the night passes in flurries of drinks and boys who'd swap in and out as soon as they'd realize you weren't going home with them; it was too early in the night anyways. if you weren't held down at the bar by some frat boy, you were at the floor flitting between tables, flirting with any guy that sported a middle part and a decent jawline, and flinging yourself dramatically at their poorly timed jokes. the drinks made it so that the 'little fun' you were having became the time of your life, and the boys, boys, boys that you so loved to smother with your lips one second and trash the next were in fact, the highlight of your day. oh how low your standards had sunk.

you think that they might've plummeted even further the second you realized that the guy whose build you've been backed up into for the last two minutes actually had a name, and that his name was jangho. leaning down to mumble in your ear, his low voice comes out a bare whisper under the blasting music, "looks like you're having a lot of fun tonight, aren't you?" you turn in his grip, gaze lifting to meet his sharp features and playful smile. he's coy, you’ll give him that, but on this special night, how different could you be?

giggling and throwing your head back, the sparkle that catches in your eyes is a magnet for some lovin' and he yields with a few kisses pressed to your lips, then your jaw, and down to your neck. shutting eye, you relish in your drunken stupor of the pair of lips that felt so harsh, hurried, lustful, and different. all your senses were tuned in to this heated moment, and this moment only, no trace of past worries, lingering feelings, or hard-to-place affections. jangho parts for only a second and his eyes that fair unbelievably dark in the already dim light speak of things you already know, things you nod to, and things that have you following in tow as he leads the way out.

but before the two of you could make a break for fresh air, a hand clasps at the wrist that's not being grasped by jangho and jerks you around until you're facing them in full.

and with the same wrist, soojin yanks you right until you are face to face, nose an inch from her own. rancid breaths emit from the same mouth that utters with such vehemence that sends a series of chills down each vertebrae of your spine. "where the fuck do you think you're going?"

you knit your brows, "what does that have to do with you?" and tug twice at her knuckle-white grip until she drops your hand. jangho's released your wrist as well, the scene unfolding much more entertaining when acclimated with the growing crowd. soojin huffs, cocks her jaw and mutters just loud enough for the eavesdropping audience to hear, "you must have a thing for all the big fish, huh?"

and when all you have to offer is the thinning of your lips and an extra crease between your brows, she takes her liberties in adding on, with each word coated in a thick layer of tension, "first jaemin and then jangho, makes me wonder what the fuck you're up to." then, she brings a finger under your chin, jutting it upwards to match her eye level. her volume drops as she spits out her next words for only you to hear, "you're trying to gatekeep aren't you, fucking whore."

you know she has a fair amount of booze in her system, you know she's not particularly fond of you, you know she's been using you to get to jaemin. but then again, you're a good deal drunk as well, you've hated her since day one, and for all she knows, you're the one that's fucking jaemin and a possible jangho. so why is it that you're the one standing here, speechless, and having to soak in all her pissy, green-faced remarks? because you're younger than her? because she's the one who invited you? because her reputation would be ruined otherwise? bullshit.

slapping away her hand is a first, grabbing at her wrist comes second, and just before she could slip some snarky counter right under your nose, you beat her to it. "what about it? are you jealous?"

her free hand pulls back, forms a perfect pitcher's arc, and then comes sailing towards your right cheek. the slap procures a clear, clean-cut sound and from it is birthed a moment of silence, perhaps three or four seconds, of glaring and gaping and utter befuddlement, before all hell breaks loose.

your fist comes into contact with her nose as you wrench her wrist in the most unnatural direction it could go. her shrieks echo and bounce off the walls while all she can do is kick at your legs with her own, the stick of her stiletto scraping at the bare skin of your legs. and soon enough, you supplement her shrieks with curses and grunts of your own, manhandling her by the neck so that you could bring her into a measly chokehold. by some stroke of luck, she'd freed her wrist from your hold, the same wrist that now flies towards your face, long acrylics threatening to carve out your eyes. her other hand has taken purchase of your right ear, pulling and pulling until you swear your eardrums begin to bleed.

heavily inebriated, your drunken insults and spineless slander slur and string together as your hand grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls and pulls, just as she'd done, until you're sure her scalp has sprouted red. and seeing as how her hold on your ear and her scratchy nails on your face have yet to find their way back home, you round up as many brain cells together to formulate your ultimate one hit K.O., your last ditch effort to be rid of this skanky, two-faced excuse of a friend.

reeling your neck back as far as her grip would allow, you release your whole weight into your head, flinging it without half a thought as to how dumb this whole night had been, how annoying everyone in this room was, and how shitty your life had become. in that split second, the only thing that mattered was her red, botched-up nose: the target.

right as you strike the bullseye, fireworks eject on the backside of your eyelids, shooting stars rejoice, and when you reopen your eyes a smidgen to admire the masterpiece you've made out of her nose, your vision begins to spot black.

the last thing you recall before falling captive to the ground is the one and only, iconic phrase sums up your first, and hopefully last, full-blown and drunken cat fight. "YOU FUCKING BITCH! GIVE ME BACK MY HAIR!"

✧ 11 — IN SPITE OF EVERYTHING, THANK YOU.

you're sixteen again and your mom has hid your phone in the medicine cabinet after she found a pack of four condoms behind your laundry basket. you're sixteen and the sun is just barely rising when that boy from your calculus class finally takes his leave; you pray to god his foot doesn't catch the windowsill on his way out. you're sixteen again and your best friend forever gives you a worried look, "that's the best you could do?" and you shake your head, roll your eyes, keeping your insecurities from bubbling over as she retracts her pointed finger from that boy sitting two seats down. you duck your head before your calculus teacher catches your little chit-chatting, and when he turns back to the board, you turn back in her direction. "i told him no but he didn't listen," is what comes out of your mouth, you're lucky she's never had a knack for tracing lies. 

you're sixteen when you get home later that day, your mom's got her hands on a little something she found in the trash can of your room. your mind tells you that you couldn't care less about what type of slut or street whore she saw you as but your heart cries out anyways. she still drives you to school the next day where you're met with whispers trailing down the hallways of how you'd been raped. it's then that you saw for the first time that the worried front she always put on looked a little more condescending than normal. or was it always like that?

you cried again, but not because you'd been "raped," but because you hadn't been, at all. nineteen-year-old you wants to tell you that you should be more concerned about having to set the record straight with the police, rather than the fact that that boy from your calculus class probably hates you now. what a shame that sixteen-year-old you has only ever thought of failure in being seen as less than what you advertised yourself to be.

you're nineteen when you wake up in the hospital. vision blurry, you catch sight of your mother tugging the far end of the curtain closed around your cot. vision clearing, she approaches you upon noting your consciousness. her face is drawn pleasantly, almost sneeringly so, and when she places a hand atop yours it feels anything but warm, anything but welcoming, anything but safe. it feels threatening. she gets to the point because she did not come to babysit her daughter, to accompany her, or even to make sure she was okay. you're lucky you don't take after her worst traits.

you're nineteen, right? the legal age is eighteen, you're an adult now. why am i still being notified whenever you get yourself into trouble? cross me off as your legal guardian before this happens again. everything you knew she had to say, everything she didn't have to say for you to know.

really, your mother came to give you an ultimatum. drop out and get a job at your father's business. financial support provided as long as you keep your head low. or, cut ties.

shifting your hand in hers, you give it a squeeze, "thank you for everything." your mother's eyes glint blank under the dingy light. she retracts her cold, distant hand. she retrieves her belongings from the cabinet beside your cot. she gives the incoming nurse a stiff nod. and she extracts herself from your life.

✧ 12 — IT ALL STARTS FROM HOME

unspoken, the tales of your first love are handwritten into the grated iron of those two fire escapes. how foreign it feels to lock the window on one.

suitcase tugged tight to your back, there's no need to beeline for the exit when nothing's in your way. no blue ottoman, no haphazard legs of a dresser, no faux fur rug. it troubles you how all the meager appliances you had gotten so used to in the placement of your room, your familiarity, support, has all dispelled into numbers back in your parent's bank account. how disappointing is the reality that the pillars that held you up when you let yourself fall can end up so spendable, so easily disposable.

you grimace when soojin opens the door to you, nose bandaged over. she's barely wearing anything and the rustling that comes from what you assume to be her room tells of much you wished you weren't prompted to think of. you think more of it when a man stumbles from the door down the hall with his t-shirt donned backwards and a calloused hand held up in a wave. she shows you to the couch, littered with her clothes and emptied chip bags shoved into its corners and you thank her with the smile you've always given. it's cheery and it's gracious and it's everything you wish you could feel genuinely in the moment.

the bin in the corner of the room is empty (at least there even is a bin) and it receives all the trash you had the energy to tidy up while the armchair beside the couch receives all the discarded clothing, most of which you're sure doesn't even belong to soojin. you haven't stumbled across any of her roommates and she herself had left long ago; it's a friday night and you suppose that with her and company alike, that trumps even lockdown. she'd even asked if you wanted to go with her, half-heartedly, eyes held to the floor with a flick of her fingernails. you declined but was surprised that she had enough propriety to ask such a thing in the first place. you're sure she's surprised that you had the gall to ask if you could stay at her place, rent-free, after a measly one-paragraph text for an apology.

it's ten in the night and then it's twelve and one turns to two and doubles into four but your eyes have been numbed to the ceiling and you're body can't seem to move past the draperies of seclusion you've hung about the couch claimed as yours. your little island in the sea of a messy room that isn't yours, a messy world in which you've left, a messy past that clings to you even after you've moved on.

you've always wondered what it would feel like to hit rock bottom. soul crushing, perhaps? maybe it'd feel like the end of the world, you thought. but it's now that you fully understand the roots of the idea of having nothing to lose. it's strangely quiet down here, and you move quietly through the days, stuffing tea bags into bottled waters and getting by on pre-packaged salads bought with a scanty wallet.

you dutifully attend your online lectures, and study hard for upcoming exams, while waiting for the day the school calls to let you know that your tuition is no longer being paid, please unenroll from your classes and return your textbooks. in the last two weeks, you watched your fulfilling love life succumb to your insecurities, your friends and family relinquish their support, and your livelihood be sucked from your living soul. having nothing to lose feels a little like that. it's quiet, it's undemanding, and it's eerily as unnerving.

in a week or two to come, soojin kicks you out because she isn't very nice; there's no need to elaborate on that except to say that she was hosting a party at her apartment. and that you didn't need to think twice before realizing that more than a construct of entertainment, it was simply devised to chase you out.

you're thrust upon the streets before you have any idea of where to turn to. no money to call for a cab back to the unwelcome doorstep of your parents' house, three hours outside the city center. no hotel, motel, hostel, b&b that could fit your modest budget. no friends to call up, to fall back on. no significant other, significant anything, a specific someone whose place you could crash out of the blue, without precursory notice. 

what you're left with is perhaps the most eerie revelation you've ever happened upon. some cold saturday night under the light of a park bench, you're sat with your sole trace of identity and belonging — your suitcase — propped upon the ground before you. fingers fiddling with the cracked case of your phone, you swallow thickly the thought that two months ago you were content. four months ago, you were adjusting. six months ago, you were unrecognizable. now, you feel as if an imposter has since taken over your eyes, your ears, your mouth, your nose. now, you're faced with the inescapable passions of how you want to feel loved more than you've ever wanted to be alive.

perhaps— no, not even perhaps. for certain, it's that same revelation that has you digging through the suitcase. it never occurred to you that you didn't have his number, or that you didn't know any of his friends' either. hell, you don't even know what classes he takes other than the one you share. and even if you sought to stumble upon him in somewhat of a more organic setting, you'd still round about the same conclusion that the one indisputable fact you knew of his was simply his address, a knock on his door. 

you give a weak smile before pulling out his blue-wash denim jacket from beneath your arm, and out with it comes the flimsy guise under which you've decided to reappear upon.

"i came to return this."

your eyes are half-lidded in a relenting haze, like you've given up, resorted, or sought refuge within the person in front of you. jaemin's eyes are half-lidded as well, though fresh from sleep and not from fatigue. his eyes, if someone could see them right now, they would think that he's looking at the most beautiful woman in the world. and they wouldn't be far from the truth for jaemin thinks just that: you are the most beautiful woman in the world.

in truth, sitting under the light of a park bench on some saturday night with nowhere to go and no one to call, you were the most surprised to note that somehow, the predicaments of your situation didn't bother you half as much as the gnawing leakage of your otherness. it felt as if the only thing more disappointing than lacking the funds to get food on the table, much less a roof over your head, was the fact that the most comfort you received in the night was a pitiful glance from a passerby.

at the tip of your tongue, you recall it like stripping wealth only to find greed, clawing past nights of passion only to stumble upon lust, or putting up with a friend who only ever saw you as competition. and though you've realized it, known it, and admitted it for however long, you've never felt it so upfront until everything you thought you had was suddenly out of reach, as if all your efforts to move on, to transcend yourself, had been fed to the gnawing butterflies in your stomach that so wished to be fondled and played with.

jaemin found you at his doorstep on some sunday morning. around 4, was it? he opened his arms wide because he knew you weren't there because you were dirt poor. he knew you weren't there because you needed a place to sleep. and he knew you weren't there because you had no one else who would support you. and true, he'd make up for all of those insufficiencies anyways but more than anything, jaemin knew that you were here because you were lonely.

so utterly and plainly lonely that one look into his eyes, one graze of his fingers along your wrist had your lips on his in such a fashion that one would have thought you were starved of his touch, parched of his lips, wilted from his love. "but you tried your best, didn't you?" and you nod into his neck, nestle into his chest, cry into his warmth. "then that's all that really matters, love."

door closed behind you, you'd come to realize through the holy hours of sunday morning that long gone was the cute guy next door turned fuck buddy. truly, na jaemin is the butter to your bread, the cup to your tea, the curtain to your window, and the breath to your heart.

✧ 13 — HOW IT ALL SHOULD HAVE STARTED

your back is against the door when the bell declares a new customer. stepping down to the last rung of the ladder after propping the last of the new lily shipments atop the shelf, the automated response is already making its way out of your mouth before you even know it. "hello, welcome to florist gump. what may i help you with today?" 

busying with the fold-out ladder, you fail to take into account the identity of the incoming customer until he sounds aloud, "hi, i'd like to have something arranged for my girlfriend." back straightening, you turn towards the voice to see a kind-eyed jaemin and decide to play along, "may i ask if there is any occasion?" to which he only shakes his head and saunters close, taking the ladder from your hands and raising an eyebrow in question as to where he was to set it aside.

you point to the nook in the back of the register and follow suit as he makes his way over, wary of the security cameras for it was only a week ago where you'd been chewed out by your manager for letting an "unauthorized loiterer" into the back of the shop. not to worry, however, for jaemin returns back in authorized territory the passing moment afterwards, already engrossed in today's selection of florals and herbs alike. "then do you know if there's anything she likes in particular?"

jaemin chews down on his bottom lip, "hmm, unfortunately i don't," and then looks over at you in your pale yellow apron, hair clipped back from your face, "have any suggestions?"

a smile begins to form at the corner of your lips, not that the face mask you're wearing gives away anything, but you align yourself before browsing the shelves of the small shop yourself and stopping at the one nearest the window. with jaemin shadowing just above your shoulder — as any customer would act — you gesture towards a bundle of white daisies and accompany it with, "i'm sure she would love those."

and so those are the ones he buys, with nothing else to add to the bouquet, and while you wrap the arrangement with rough twine encircling newspaper scrappings, jaemin takes one of the boxes of chocolate near the register and passes it along your way, "and add these in too."

you look up at him, tugging the twine into a final bow, and offer a shy, thankful smile — a crease of your eyes. punching the numbers into the cash register, you receive his money, return his change, and give yet another smile (though this time it's a product of embarrassment) as he holds out both the flowers and the chocolates in your direction.

accepting them, you're a second away from telling him to drop the act when he speaks of possibly the exact opposite, "i think you're kinda cute, may i get your number?"

you fight the urge to laugh at him, that is until you realize that he's dead serious, sliding his phone across the counter, a new contact draft pulled up and everything. scoffing, you give him a pointed look matched with a disbelieving shake of your head, taking his phone in hand and thumbing in your number. it's not like he has it anyways.

in any case, what use could he have for it when you live on the left side of his bed? and in his itty-bitty four-hundred square foot studio, you're never very far out of reach. he'd be in class and you'd have a day off, arriving beside his desk just shy of the camera frame to hand him his freshly steeped black tea. and on days where his attendance was only required in the morning lectures, jaemin would stop by the shop and keep you company while you studied the origins and meanings behind a genera of flowers, sometimes doing nothing besides staring and taking up space.

he thinks that the language of flora suits you far better than any finance course could ever dare. and frankly, you think so too. you've since limited your circle of friends to your manager, a 60-year-old nifty granny and your most frequent customer, her toddler-aged grandson, the baker that makes jaemin's favorite focaccia bread at the bodega, and most recently, seo injae, your new neighbor. being the only one of your miscellaneous group of friends that's the same age as you, you think of injae as like your insider. she'll keep you in the loop on all the latest trends and for sleepovers only, you get a taste of what late night college boy-talk feels like, something you used to trade in for house parties and social minglings.

you lived your life loudly, in your own quiet way. things like sincerity that were once hard to come by are now principles with which you lead your life. your pursuits are fueled by intrinsic passions rather than the expectations of others and the way you love has stayed impeccably true. jaemin grounds you, not to the earth, but to yourself. and in doing so, he's helped you meet a version of yourself that you didn't think existed.

your mother will eventually call to ask how you've been doing, soojin will one day apologize for the scar she left on your right leg, and although you will never get the money back from your one and a half semesters of college, you think that just for now, you can rest easy knowing that the daises have found their way into a vase, proudly exhibiting an emblem of new beginnings.

✧ 14 — AND FROM THAT DAY ON, THE SEASONS NEVER CHANGED.

to say the least, baking a full-fledged cake in a tiny kitchen made up of just a sink, a stove, and a fridge with absolutely no counter space in between, is wholly and unmistakably unideal. that paired with your unorthodox method of baking — foregoing a recipe of any sort — is a recipe in itself for disaster. and when you hear the jangle of keys from just outside the door, you voice aloud the one intelligible string of words that your mind can come up with in this moment, " oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck…"

the door opens and you're forced to give your best smile, hoping it'll overshadow the mess you've made behind you. and it seems that it works, to an extent, for when jaemin nears in attempt at a hug, the entire wreckage you've kept hidden behind your back is exposed. retracting from the embrace, jaemin only chuckles as you perk up in hopes to deal with the damage, "i hope you're not too tired to help me clean."

oh, but you're almost sure that he's tired but you play your chances that a night out with his friends, for a birthday celebration of all things, gets him just drunk enough to say, "no, i'll help you with it." your signature cheeky smile makes its appearance as he sets down the plastic bag you didn't notice he was holding to get to the dirty dishes. "what'd you buy?" and he shrugs, "just a little something for you."

you look up from the contents of the bag to the time on the clock above the bed — 12:24 AM it reads — and then from the clock to your boyfriend at the sink. "well you're a speedy one aren't you? twenty-four minutes into your twenty-first year and you've already got your hands on some legal alcohol." and not only that, it's your favorite. the one your crazy cool aunt always brings to family gatherings, the modern times fruitlands canned beer.

jaemin finishes up cleaning after your mess as you busy yourself with setting the table, or rather dragging out the wide stool that you and him have been using to create your makeshift dining room on the floor of your kitchen. he settles down a little after you've finished and the two of you pop open your own cans of beer, clinking before drinking. whereas jaemin was only slightly buzzed before, this second round has him a giggly emotional fit within the first ten sips.

before you know it, he's on his back, tracing imaginary shapes into the ceiling with the tip of his index finger and you bet your ass you're right beside him, doing your best to guess whatever it is that he's currently drawing. this time, it's a beluga whale and the next, it's the mug that you frequent and every time he surprises you with something completely spontaneous and unpredictable. he's just like that when he's intoxicated; jaemin's a happy drunk.

and by the time his arm has exhausted itself and has fallen back to his side, you reach over to clasp his hand in yours, squeezing lightly. he'll be asleep within the next two minutes, maybe even less but before then, you ask him, "so what do you want for your birthday?"

jaemin steals a glance at you, in all his drunken glory, and out spills word by word, "i wanna go dinnerware shopping with the love of my life."

✧ [ FIN. ]  copyright © 2021 rouiyan all rights reserved.  

✧ author’s note — as none of you may know, 'blue world' was posted as a 400 follower special — a milestone that i hit over five months ago — but i digress because it is particularly special to me and most likely not to you. for the first time in awhile, i sat down and wrote a story that i wanted to tell my readers. i don't know you, i don't know what you've been through, are going through, or have yet to go through. i don't know what keeps you up at night and i can't tell you that everything is going to be okay. what i know is that quarantine has affected each and every one of us in its own unique way, and all i want is for this story to accompany you whenever you feel that your best isn't enough. 400 hundred followers is a lot to me, and only in the sense that i haven't enough fingers to count it on. every note that i've received feels like an affirmation that i'm doing well, that i'm doing okay, that i am enough and quite plainly for that, thank you. to the silent readers, to those who scream in the replies and to those who simply leave a like, thank you. the world is a little brighter, a little lovelier with you around. i'm sure of it.

☆ baby taglist — @wonciel-main​ (send in an ask to be added to my general!)

#neowritingsnet #neothestars #neoculturecafe #neo-constellations #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin fics #jaemin scenarios #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin fanfic #fic: blue world #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

[forhaever]

— [ 1🗯️] nct masterlist of masterlists ¡!

just a list of nct writing accounts i enjoy ... yea ( ꈍᴗꈍ )

ღ to the authors and writers: thank you for dedicating so much time into writing amazing stories. im so sorry if me tagging you here is bothering you in any way… please do tell or message me if anything i wrote here is wrong or offensive, especially the hiatus/inactive status i put beside the tags or mentions or whatever you call them (i wrote it based on recent posts so it might be incorrect…) anyways, even though i have never really spoken about or gave a reaction to a fic before, i am very grateful to have found all of your stories and adventures — as a matter of fact my english writing skills for school got better from binge reading fics here :D once again thank you and i hope everyone stays safe and has a great day !!

⚠ not in alphabetical order

p.s. some of these accounts also write for other groups so you can also check them out because they’re all amazing !!

@smoll-tangerine ⤷ masterlist

@rouiyan ⤷ masterlist

@neoskidz ⤷ masterlist

@sly-merlin ⤷ masterlist

@masterninjacow ⤷ masterlist

@tyonfs ⤷ masterlist

@hyuckles-chuckles​ ⤷ masterlist

[hiatus] @navyhyuck ⤷ masterlist

@gohyuck ⤷ masterlist

@jungwooisms ⤷ masterlist

@ppangjae ⤷ masterlist

[semi-hiatus] @cozyjae ⤷ masterlist

@witchitzy ⤷ masterlist

[semi-inactive] @lybomb ⤷ masterlist

@jishyucks ⤷ masterlist

@taelme ⤷ masterlist

@lavendersuh ⤷ masterlist

@nctsworld ⤷ masterlist

@alicanta77 ⤷ masterlist

@honeydh ⤷ masterlist

@sehunniepotwrites ⤷ masterlist

@jisungsmochi ⤷ masterlist

@yo-ddream ⤷ masterlist

@honeymark ⤷ masterlist

[semi-inactive?] @taeyongtime ⤷ masterlist

[no longer writing] @cinanamon ⤷ masterlist

[no longer writing] @shamrocklore ⤷ masterlist

@jaeminzie ⤷ masterlist

@starlightkun ⤷ masterlist

@rosepetalmark ⤷ masterlist

@yojeongin ⤷ masterlist

[semi-inactive] @mojwisungie ⤷ masterlist

@neovisioned ⤷ masterlist

@slightlymore ⤷ masterlist 

@dreamystuffers ⤷ masterlist 

@haechanblr ⤷ masterlist 

[semi-inactive] @solecize ⤷ masterlist 

[semi-hiatus] @chenjwi ⤷ masterlist 

@jisungiest ⤷ masterlist

@neonun-au ⤷ masterlist

[inactive] @asteroidsung ⤷ masterlist 

@donkey-hyuck ⤷ masterlist 

[hiatus] @doiefy ⤷ masterlist

[semi-inactive?] @sugarjaee ⤷ masterlist

@hannie-dul-set ⤷ masterlist 

@radiorenjun ⤷ masterlist

[no longer writing?] @meraki-mark ⤷ masterlist

@danishmiilk ⤷ masterlist

@dropsofletters ⤷ masterlist

[inactive] @hwangdol ⤷ no masterlist, search #nct au

#nct fics #nct fic recs #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct au #nct blurbs #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #wayv imagines #nct scenarios #kpop fanfic #fic rec

[wispystar]

☁︎·̩͙✧

Imagines/blurbs

• jaehyun

please recommend some fics! | please lmk if links aren’t working | anything under 5k< | in order from shortest to longest

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Falling for you by @bluejaem

genre: fluff | summary: falling more in love with him | tw/warnings: none

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sorry. by @omaluv

genre: fluff, angst | summary: Jaehyun trying to apologize after a fight | tw/warnings: none(?)

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Vlive by @rouiyan

genre: fluff, idol!jaehyun | summary: accidentally outing your relationship without realizing it | tw/warnings: none

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Cold hands by @nctsworld

genre: fluff | summary: in which jaehyun tries to warm your cold hands up by placing them underneath his shirt. | tw/warnings: swearing

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The city! by @jjaehyuk

genre: fluff | summary: Jaehyun wants to make memories by waking up at 2am and driving to watch the sunset | tw/warnings: none (?)

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Mr Jung: soon to be ceo, (past) part time model, smitten husband by @anya-writes-stuff

genre: ceo! Jaehyun, fluff, fem! Reader | summary: you and jaehyun start shooting promotional content for the upcoming launch of his company with the help of a friend from university

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Solo by @jaesqueso

genre: fluff, idol au! | summary: after revealing your relationship you star in jaehyun’s mv | tw/warnings: it gets a tiny little bit suggestive in the end

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Stuffy prince by @noname-friend

genre: fluff, angst, fem! reader, prince! Au | summary: Lady Y/N has been invited to a masquerade at the castle, gladly she goes. She dances the night away with a masked man, only to find out he's the most stuck up prince in the kingdom.

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Covered by @velvescence

genre: fluff, established relationship au, fem reader | summary: You are driving downtown for your inconstant monthly visit to your boyfriend.

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jealousy (not) by @neoyuno

genre: fluff, established relationship, fem reader | summary: A particular debate over perilla leaves sparks up a plan to make your (totally not jealous) boyfriend jealous. ; or, jaehyun gets jealous for the first time in his life.

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Just let me adore you by @nctsworld

genre: fluff | summary: in which the sparks between you and jaehyun burn brighter than the fire in front of you.  | tw/warnings: swearing

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My mister? by @mieohmy

genre: fluff, humor, teacher au | Summary: you think it’s cute how your seventh grade students can’t get enough of Mr. Jung. or in which the whole middle schools ships you and jaehyun together. | Tw/warnings: mentions of blood

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Serendipitous by @velvescence

genre: fluff, strangers to acquaintances, fem reader| summary: A chance encounter with a gorgeous stranger on the last day of a two-week long trip in a foreign country.

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For us by @kireimarkeu

genre: fluff, dad! Au | summary: jaehyun, you and your first born on a reality tv show | tw/warnings: none

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My little pea by @kireimarkeu

genre: fluff, angst | summary: just a summary of how it’s like to be dating jaehyun | tw/warnings: none(?)

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How that taste? by @cloudykyu

genre: angst, fluff ending, established relationship au, revenge, humor, gn reader | summary: clingy? annoying? how could your sweet boyfriend think of you that way when all you’ve done is love him? not to mention the fact that you had to find out on social media. well, it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. | tw/warnings: , lack of communication, swearing, jealousy, one sex joke

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#nct #nct 127 #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst

[moonbeamsung]

who would some of your cool/famous mutuals be? i need some new writing nct dream blogs to follow omfg

oooh well. they are all cool (and all deserve to be famous smh) imo, but if you’re looking for some new (? hopefully, bc you may be following some of them already) writers to follow, here are some very cool and very talented mutuals off the top of my head:

(they aren’t all strictly dream writers but i’m pretty sure that even if they write for all nct members, they will have some dream content for you if that’s what you’re looking for!! be warned that some of these blogs may contain nsfw writings, but most are sfw.)

@navyhyuck @alicanta77 @nakamotocore @bluejaem @mrkcore @jisungsmochi @prettyjaems @seularcade @jaemotel @lebrookestore @jisungiest @byutafy @hyuckles-chuckles @rouiyan @1-800-seo @danishmiilk @sunryu @wonciel @channoticedmeuwu @chicksung @mieohmy @hwiseungs @astroboy-lele @fruityutas @yo-ddream @sweetlyjaem @byunbaekby @ncteaxhoe @meraki-mark @itzmklee @kunrengui-writes @jenojam @markleebee

#anon ୭̥⋆*｡ #there are so many talented writers that i am moots with so this is by no means a comprehensive list!!! #so yes ​go follow and support their work i promise you will not regret it #but i am sorry i can’t mention absolutely everyone all in one post :[ #hannah’s recs

[navyhyuck]

xoxo.

video games and competitions: love is the only game that can have two winners.

guidelines: 

write an nct gamer au with a minimum of 2k! timestamps, blurbs, and drabbles will not be accepted for this collab! 

all genres are allowed except for explicit smut!

fics must be member x reader and all warnings must be specified. all fics must be centered around your chosen member!

there is only one slot open for each member!

release day will be specified later on and can be negotiated!

let me know well beforehand if you would like to leave the collaboration (meaning at least a week in advance, please do not tell me the day before!). please be considerate of others!

make sure you have a discord so i can add you to the server. if not, please just communicate through dms!

dm @navyhyuck​ if you would like to join or if you have any questions! please reblog this post for more exposure!

TAEIL

player - @lucas-wongs

[ teaser ] untitled fic

JOHNNY

player - @soliverse

[ teaser ] TAMASHI EXPERIMENT

TAEYONG

player - @navyhyuck​

[ teaser ] READY PLAYER ONE

YUTA

player - @lucas-wongs

[ teaser ] untitled fic

KUN

player - @asahi-is-baby

[ teaser ] untitled fic

DOYOUNG

 player - @sweetlyjaem

[ teaser ] ONE HIT KNOCK OUT

TEN

player - @127-mile​

[ teaser ] untitled fic

JAEHYUN

player - @wonjaekook

[ teaser ] untitled fic

WINWIN

player - @heejinnien

[ teaser ] untitled fic

JUNGWOO

 player - @prettyjaems [deactivated]

LUCAS

player - @philosopher-of-fandoms

[ teaser ] untitled fic

MARK

player - @jungwooisms

[ teaser ] untitled fic

XIAOJUN

player - @slit-the-rasceta

[ teaser ] untitled fic

HENDERY

player - @soliverse

[ teaser ] untitled fic

RENJUN

player - @mrkcore

[ teaser ] untitled fic

JENO

player - @rouiyan [suspended]

HAECHAN

player - @donkey-hyuck

[ teaser ] FACE IT

JAEMIN 

player - @neoloves

[ teaser ] untitled fic

YANGYANG 

player - @nakamotocore

[ teaser ] PLAYER 1 + PLAYER 2

SHOTARO

player - @heejinnien

[ teaser ] untitled fic

SUNGCHAN

player - @bdlhchn

[ teaser ] untitled fic

CHENLE

player - @hyuckefi

[ teaser ] PLAY AGAIN?

JISUNG

player - @moonbeamsung

[ teaser ] MY 8-BIT BOYFRIEND

#so yes this is the time to bring out the gamer boy fic you know you always wanted to write don't lie #nct collab #nct collab call #nct collaboration #nct collab: gamer au #nct gamer au #nct dream gamer au #wayv gamer au #pls the banner is so ugly i'm SORRY i worked on it for like two days

[bdlhchn]

déjà vu

sometimes do you ever think, everything seems like a dream? - a debut series by bdlhchn 

copyright © bdlhchn. all rights reserved. 

a/n; this was supposed to be a christmas project for my previous blog but i haven’t really gotten to complete all of the members in time for christmas, so this is turning into a debut series instead. @rouiyan​ thank you miss ree, for inspiring me to start writing again! i can never be more grateful for you who brought back out the writer in me. and also @asthmark !! my no.1 hyypeman, you never fail to bring out crazy ideas and youre always such a sweetheart to talk to<3

series synopsis: in each decade, you will be brought to an alternate universe where your friends all have a crush on you. except... it feels just like déjà vu.

series disclaimers: mentions of sex, suggestive content

1920s: park jisung

maybe the one way to your heart is through a simple piece of paper.

1950s: mark lee

perhaps the one guy that everyone is afraid of isn’t so scary after all. maybe a little ditzy at that.

1970s: lee jeno

everyone’s dying to hold jeno’s hand, but he willingly grabs yours tightly in his.

1980s: zhong chenle

hate him, love him, just can’t resist him.

1990s: huang renjun

extracurricular. wc: 1455, genre: slight angst, fluff

welcome to class... just for today.

2000s: na jaemin

no one has ever made it through more than 2 exposures of jaemin’s film roll, except you.

2010s: lee haechan

dancing never felt this stressful, even more so when lee haechan’s dancing with you.

#first #five #tags #dont #work #apparently #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #mark lee scenarios #jeno scenarios #park jisung scenarios #haechan scenarios #chenle scenarios #jaemin scenarios #renjun scenarios #summer's peeks

[kdyism]

hey! I'm an anon who's just fallen down the Tumblr rabbit hole and has been lurking here for a while- I just wanna say I really really love your fics!! 🤍

also do you have any other writers you recommend here?

aww hello, welcome to nctblr 😭😭 it's kinda dead rn, but hope you have fun, and thank you sooo much, that means the world to me 🫶💞

yess writers i rec, @rrxnjun (i super love their writing style) @yyxgin @luvdsc @lebrookestore (esp for angst!) @neo-shitty @lattaeyongs @channoticedmeuwu @ (metanoia smau!! i adore) @ppangjae @sehunniepotwrites @rouiyan @honeymark

there are a lot more!! but idk who still writes or is active, so this is all! you can find more on my recommendation list. a lot of writers don't appear on the tags, so do keep digging into the tags

#💌.asks #moots! they are amazing people and writers so do check them out

[rouiyan]

can i pls request Jaehyun x gn reader where jaehyun accidentally outed his relationship in a live?(ig or vlive) thats all thanks!!!

WOWEE, i apologize for taking so long but i am finally getting to my requests! this one is kinda fluff angst ambiguous ?? idk i'm not one for open endings ... so lmk if you want something a little more definitive !!

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌 — idol!jaehyun x (gender neutral) reader ✧ word count : 486 ✧ disclaimers : none

jaehyun repositions the camera propped atop his windowsill, checking out his own reflection whilst skimming through a few of the comments that go flying past on the screen. most of them spell out things like "SAY HI TO INDONESIA" or "I WANT TO SEE JUNGWOO" but he catches a few that concern his health, how he's feeling these days, if he's eating well and getting enough sleep. jaehyun lets out a small laugh under his breath at the irony of that last comment. sleepily, he rubs at his eyes and reciprocates a few of those same concerns to his audience. "are you guys getting enough sleep these days? if you're here in korea, you should probably be asleep by now."

chuckling, his hands meander around his desk, searching for his phone. and when they take purchase of it, jaehyun holds it up to the camera without a second thought. "look how late it is here," he muses absentmindedly and with the screen facing the eyes of thousands upon thousands of fans, jaehyun turns on his phone to display his lockscreen which has the time, yes, but which also has a picture of you in the background.

it was from a little under a month ago when he'd snuck you out of the dorms for a late night date along the river. with your eyes sparkling in the moonlight, he couldn't help but snap a picture or two, or three, or maybe nineteen. and a little under two weeks ago when he'd been swiping through his camera roll at two in the morning, he couldn't help his half-drunk state when he'd set one of the many pictures as his lockscreen. still, he'd kept it there even after his hangover soup in the morning. but he'd only kept it because he promised himself to be careful.

a knock on his door signals his attention and he turns towards it to see you barely at the crook of the door, one hand clutching your phone and the other frantically gesturing 'cut it out.' jaehyun raises one brow briefly, before nodding slowly at your urgency and reaching over to end the vlive. "i- i gotta go guys," he has half the mind to wave, "see you guys next time," before shutting it off, a smirk already beginning to form on his face.

then, he turns to you with that same smirk in full bloom. "did you miss me that much?" jaehyun disregards the shake of your head as some form of embarrassed denial and rejoins, "oh, it's alright to admit it, you know—"

"jaehyun…" you start out, only now entering the room in full, "look at your lockscreen, hon." and when he turns on his phone again, the picture of you is nowhere to be seen for the entire screen is flooded in notifications from every social media platform known to man. and only then does it hit him.

copyright © 2021 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — ty for requesting, love, hope you enjoyed it <3 one request down, six more to go !!

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun timestamps #nct jaehyun #jaehyun nct #rouiyan drabbles #rouiyan writes #neowritingsnet #neothestars

[lebrookestore]

dancing with a ghost; n.jm

Pairing: Na Jaemin x female reader

Themes: magical realism,  dips into fantasy, college! ish au, heavy angst, humour, a couple of sex jokes, making out, kissing, na ‘the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math’ jaemin, almost trope, some talk about physics for which i am so sorry

Warnings: heavy angst, tragedy, making out, food, sex jokes, character death but not really

Wc: 21.2k

Playlist: six feet under by billie eillish, the 1 by taylor swift, gone by rose, remember me from coco lol

Summary: bored with the monotony of your life, you come across a boy who makes your world flip one-eighty degrees. while he brought a sense of childish excitement back into your heart, you soon realize that the thrill comes with a cost.

Taglist: @danishmiilk​  @radiorenjun​ @channoticedmeuwu​ @chicksung​ @jenosslut​ @kisshim​ @mrkcore​ @intokook​ @kkakkdugi​ @sakurasangcl​ @rouiyan​ @kiri-ah​ @kariskwn​ @019127 @imdamnconfused​ @naptaemed​ @hyuckefi​ @staysstrays​ @softforqiankun​ @itsapapisongo​ @svchengss-main​ @yakultyukhei​ @rr0zu​ @piperstofu101​ @hannie-dul-set​​

Authors note: ah its finally done! my first magical realism fic JKLSDNSJKDF though im pretty sure i went more into fantasy but oh well, i hope you enjoy this anyways! this was very much inspired by @/dhoya’s fics and she helped me a lot through writing this so hopefully i did it justice? Anyways, jaemin is cute and feedback would be lovely thank you<3 (this is an experiment)

The convenience store was always a great place to practice. So many items, all pushed up together on little shelves, no one really noticed if some things were misplaced, or lopsidedly put back. Not that Jaemin ever let them stay that way, after he was done he would always do his best to put things back in their place.

This wasn’t a twenty-four-hour convenience store, but rather one that opened at eight in the morning and decided to shut its doors to the outside world at eight in the evening. He assumed this was because the owners wanted their employees to sleep.

Of course, the surveillance cameras did post a bit of a problem, but it was easily thwarted, with a little shifting and careful placing, he could have an entire aisle to himself. Not during the day, of course, people were around during the light hours. It was at night when everyone was lost to the land of summer did he come out to play.

It was safest at night, with no one around and no one watching. This way he didn’t have to worry about potentially hurting someone, or making them think they were out of their minds.

This was why not many knew of his abilities if you will. Just his mother, the woman who brought him up and kept it a secret, one that she would take to her grave, and a few friends. Jaemin would have to do the same, with the zipping motions of his mouth and the metaphorical tossing of keys into a well.

He had always been a bit of a sly person, he had most people wrapped around his little finger. Manipulative, to put it quite plainly, was what he was. In more ways than people knew he could be.

What was it? He didn’t really know, perhaps it was something he had inherited from the father he never knew. That prompted questions, if he had truly gotten it from his father, how did the mentioned obtain it? Was it something that ran in the family? Would he carry it on?

He stepped into the store, sucking in a deep breath. He was truly alone, he knew, different from the rest of the world. Releasing his fingers from its tight first, the door behind him slammed shut, the sound was louder than he had anticipated it to be. Wincing, he realized he shouldn’t have let his grip relax so quickly.

He didn’t have the keys to the store, if he did it would make things a hell of a lot easier. For now, he’d just have to use his abilities until he managed to bag a copy of the keys without anyone noticing. 

Standing in the darkness, he closed his eyes, picturing the scene in his mind. The aura was calm, it always was at this ungodly hour in the morning. Jaemin had already memorized the layout of the store beforehand, through the course of several visits during the day. To the far left were the dairy products, right at the back were the meats. The instant noodles were somewhere in between, which was an aisle he frequented- not to practice, but just to stay alive at this point. He was a terrible cook.

At the right, in the back was where the check-out counter was. The place where they kept the small candy and gum, to entice you into making the unnecessary purchase of the same. Behind the counters on the wall was a switchboard, the third switch from the start would light up the fifth aisle, the one he used.

But first, he’d have to worry about the positioning of those damn cameras. Aisle five, he repeated in his mind and thought about where it was. 

What exactly were Jaemin’s abilities? His grand secret that he had kept ever since he was little? Well, it has already been told, hasn’t it? He was manipulative.

The first camera was located at the end of that aisle for a straight overview of it. Biting down on his lower lip, he fisted his hands again and imagined it titled to the other side, to where the meats were kept. He could feel a slight shit as it moved, but not completely. Barely even a little bit.

Dammit.

This was why he needed the practice because even though he had had these since he was a child, he still didn’t know how to use them properly. He was weak and often couldn’t control them. It should have been simple, it definitely sounded easy, and yet just getting set up took about half an hour every time.

He gritted his teeth, focusing on the mental image of the camera once again, using all his willpower to move it completely. Manipulating the energy around the object, using that energy to push it in the direction he wished for, was what he did.

Sometimes it would come easily, like it had with the lock a few minutes ago, otherwise it took a lot more effort than he had to give, but he supposed it was a fair trade, energy expenditure for energy to be moved and twisted around to his desires.

Once that first camera had been moved, he moved onto the other three that caught images of the aisle, altering their positions just so he could do his task.

Finally, he managed to complete the task and thought back to the switchboard, using those same manipulation skills to flip it up. The center of the store illuminated, giving it a sort of ethereal effect with the darkness that surrounded that area.

To his side was a window, he could see his reflection in it. His name was Na Jaemin, in school, he would get teased and called ‘nana’ every time the bell would ring. He had gentle eyes, and pretty plump lips. One could say he was a mythical creature, he certainly looked the part.

Maybe he was one, it would definitely explain a lot of things.

Tearing his eyes away from his reflection, he walked over the aisle, taking slow deliberate steps. There was no use in wasting his strength in doing it quickly, he needed to conserve that part of himself. He reached the end of the aisle and looked around for something small enough to practice with, but not so small that it was too easy.

His gaze fell onto a bag of oats, its dull blue colour drawing him in. Steadying himself once more, he focused on it, willing it to move, which it did after about five full minutes of trying.

Jaemin was a poltergeist of sorts, there was no other way he could describe it. He caused physical disturbances by using what was around him: energy.

Energy was a universal concept, it was taught in a physics class as the force required to be used to be able to do work. It was all around, hanging above people and waiting to be messed with. Everyone played around with it some time or the other, to an extent even this was normal, but manipulating it without touching anything, was something only a few people could do.

He was one of them, and sometimes it scared him. This wasn’t normal, it shouldn’t have been, and yet he would sometimes see the headlines flashing about these types of people. Usually, they were pushed below the surface, labeled as rebels for their talents. 

It was ridiculous but understandable. People were afraid of what they didn’t know and immediately classified it as something terrible. To an extent, Jaemin could relate, he was pretty terrified of it too which was why he made the effort to practice in the first place. If he could manage to gauge the extent of what he could do, if he could just control it, perhaps he wouldn’t be so wary of it.

With the small shift in the bag’s position, Jaemin decided to get a little ambitious. He wanted to lift it off the ground and keep it hanging mid-air. It was that boyish fascination in him that wanted to do it, to whisper out about how cool it was and to do it again.

So he tried, which took a lot more effort, but it was unmistakable in the dim lighting of the store. It was just an inch above the surface of the ground, but it was definitely floating. Was it excitement he felt? Or was he simply awestruck at what he could do?

“AHA!”

A new voice called out from behind him in triumph, causing him to startle, and send the small bag of oats flying in its direction. That was another thing about his abilities, they were extremely unpredictable and fluctuated just as his emotions did. The surprise of someone exclaiming loudly, triggered that, making it less effort to throw the bag.

In response to this, he earned a pained yelp from whoever he had assaulted with the oats. Honestly, he had always thought that if he ever became a superhero, his attacks would be way cooler than throwing porridge at someone. 

The voice seemed to be female, from what he could tell. He turned around to face her, seeing that the unfortunate bag lay on the ground busted, with its contents spilling out. The girl herself was crouched down on one leg, massaging the other which was the one he had presumably hit her with.

“Dude what the fuck,” You hissed, narrowing your eyes at him, “I didn’t ask for whatever you stole.”

You were blunt, stating the facts as what you thought they were. You dusted off your jeans, standing up straight and gesturing to the oats, “This is the saddest thing you could possibly steal, just for your information.”

Jaemin didn’t quite know what to make of you and settled on just defending himself in the moment. He could just about make out your features in the dim lighting, the curve of your nose, the way your eyes bore into his skull as you awaited a response. 

“I’m not stealing anything?”

It was embarrassing, how idiotic he sounded. His voice had betrayed him, lilting higher as he ended the statement as a question. You raised an eyebrow, hand on your hip as you shifted your weight to your other leg.

“Really? Because you standing in a convenience store in the dead of the night looking around the aisles is extremely suspicious,” clicking your tongue, you looked around. “Just painting a picture for you buddy.”

“You’re doing the same,” he scowled, composing himself, “What’s to say that you’re not the thief in this scenario?” Jaemin tried picking up the pieces of his dignity by shifting the blame to you. To his bewilderment, you just laughed instead, the melodic sound ringing in his ears.

“I own the place, idiot,” you definitely had an array of words to describe him with. You stopped yourself for a moment, before shaking your head. “Well not really, my parents own the place, but that means it’s technically mine anyways. I just wanted to get a Cup Noodles because I was craving a late-night snack.”

You raised your wrist to show him the cup you were holding, which had the noodles inside of it. “We didn’t have anything up at home so I just came downstairs. It also gave me an excuse to confront you.” You sounded gleeful towards the end, an odd, sort of excited smile creeping up onto your face. 

“Me?”

“You’ve been coming here for a while, but you never take anything,” You reiterated, “I know you’re not a thief, I just wanted to see your reaction when I accused you of potentially being one. I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

You walked away from the aisle, and to the checkout counters. For some reason, it felt like Jaemin needed to follow you, you had that presence that pulled a person in. So he did, forgetting about his precious practice session and trailing behind you to where you were. 

“Watching me?” He asked and you shrugged, shaking some of your hair out of your face as you switched on the portable coffee maker. You poured half a bottle of packaged water into it and waited for it to heat up and boil.

“Trying to, but for some reason, the cameras that should catch you don’t.” You turned to him and pushed yourself up onto the counter, dangling your legs below, “Care to explain, pretty boy?” Your tone had taken a turn for condescending as you took one of the sour candy packets from the little shelves, to snack on while the water boiled. Perks of being the owner’s daughter, he supposed.

You seemed perfectly at ease for someone who was facing a trespasser. He pressed his lips together, wondering how he could explain the situation to you. Taking his silence as a nudge at your terrible hospitality, you held out the now open pack of candy.

“My bad, here have some,” you said, shaking the packet as if to entice him, “Then you can tell me all about whatever the fuck you do down here.’

“Are you bribing me?”

“Absolutely!” You beamed, “Now take the candy!” 

Reluctantly, he obliged, taking a few pieces of the chewy substance and popping one of them in his mouth. There was a combination of sugar and salt crystals that coated it, making his nose scrunch up at the jarring flavours.

“I don’t think you would believe me,” he said truthfully, suddenly feeling extremely out of place, standing in front of you. You ate another piece of candy and kept it to the side, going back to your water. Switching off the portable mug, youtube open the top of the Cup Noodles and poured some of the water inside.

“It’s about quarter to three in the morning, I think I’ll believe anything you say.”

“It’s dangerous.”

You sighed in exasperation, blowing that strand of hair back out of your face. It was starting to annoy you now. 

“Tell you what, if you tell me what you were doing, I won’t call the police on you.” You bargained, stirring the noodles around, which had softened now. You were curious if he wasn’t stealing anything, why did he visit so often? And at such an odd time?

Defeated, he moved closer towards where you were sitting, leaning against the counter, “To put it plainly, I’m one of them. Rebels or whatever/” He stole another piece of candy from the opened packet, it was growing on him.

Your eyes widened as you gaped at him, “Shit, you can do all that cool stuff?”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow at you, “Cool stuff? Haven’t you heard what the government says about it? Aren’t you like, even a little scared?”

You snickered, “You threw oats at me, I don’t think I can ever be afraid of you, besides you’re like Superman or something.” You used the little plastic fork that came with the noodles to pick up a mouthful. “You didn’t answer my question though, why do you come here?”

He blinked and you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was, fairy-ish features and dark eyes that seemed to cut through whatever he looked at. His hair was a little long, sweeping over his forehead and covering it, something of a wolf cut but not quite. His eyelashes were long and cast a little bit of a shadow on his face.

“Er- not many convenience stores stay closed at night, so it’s one place I can be left alone until you walked in.” He gave you a pointed look, one you promptly returned with an unashamed grin. “But yeah, I try figuring out how whatever this is works here. I didn’t actually throw the oats at you, you startled me and my mind worked on its own.”

“Still threw it at me, but go on.”

“There’s nothing more to go on about,” he shrugged, “That’s the whole story.” He dusted his hands, pushing himself off the counter, “Don’t worry though, I won’t come back again if that’s what you’d like.”

It’s odd how gentlemen like he was, for a trespasser at least, and for a Rebel too. You had always imagined them as being somewhat intimidating, and while he was in a way, you didn’t feel the urge to run away or anything of the sort. 

Your lips twitched and you placed something on the counter, covering it with your palm. You liked his presence, you realized, and were intrigued by what he could possibly do. Hopping off the counter, you flashed him a smile and shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, lifting your hand off the counter, “See you around…?” You stared at him expectantly, which was really just a reason to take in his pretty face once again. He cleared his throat in surprise.

“Jaemin,” he said, and you nodded. 

“See you around Jaemin.”

You grabbed your cup noodles, and turned on your heel, walking to the other end of the store and opening the door, closing it after you as you disappeared. Jaemin wondered if you had been a figment of his imagination, leaving as quickly as you had arrived. Glancing to the counter, he scoffed, suppressing the smile that was making its way onto his face.

You had left him the keys.

~

In hindsight, it was probably a terrible idea for you to leave the keys to the store to a stranger.

And those were your keys too, dammit. As a result of being an absolute dumbass and leaving it for him, you were subjected to borrowing your parent’s copy without them knowing and having a new one made. It certainly wasn’t worth the extra effort, you even had to sacrifice ten bucks for it to be made. That was money you could have used for something else.

You blamed it on being delirious, considering it had been pretty late. What had you even been thinking? Going down to ‘confront’ a random dude who could have very well been dangerous- or a murderer. Yep, this was at the top of your ‘Y/n does stupid thing’s list™’.

You got off the bus and onto the pavement, a new book snugly placed in your arms. It was a Saturday, the day you usually visited the library to pick out something new to read, another piece of literature to keep you company through the monotony of daily life, which consisted of college, working at the store for extra money, and spending time in your room.

Perhaps that was the reason you had been so interested in the mystery boy who showed up last night, it was something that broke past your usual happenings. The moment you started noticing the little differences, and the way sometimes the cameras would be placed differently from what they used to be. You’d put it back, only to see it twisted around the next day.

Another day you had pulled an all-nighter, to finish a book you had to for a class, and because it gave you an excuse to catch a glimpse of this person who broke into the store every night and left without even taking anything. This was a habit of yours, to use a practical reason to do something utterly impractical, and sometimes downright stupid.

You saw his figure walk out of the store that night, hood pulled over his head as he closed it carefully and walked off hurriedly, disappearing into the night. Sure enough, the next day the cameras had moved once again, away from that particular aisle he seemed to like so much.

Now his face was burned into your mind along with his name. He was something different, now you had indulged in finding out who he was and now it seemed to haunt you. You wanted to know more now, to the point where you had left him your fucking keys.

God, you needed some fun.

You turned the corner, walking straight to the florist’s shop to meet your friend. That was another place you spent a lot of time at since you had the habit of making friends with other people who were much like you. 

Case in point, Lee Taeyong, florist’s son and an absolute sweetheart. The two of you met when you were taking a break from working at the store and had decided to wander about a little bit. He had been putting out some arrangements so people could look at them and the two of you happened to begin talking.

You pushed the glass doors open, sighing at the gust of air that swept around your ankles. Walking up to the back of the shop, you slung your bag on one of the chairs and placed the book on the top of the counter with a ‘thump’, successfully catching your friend’s attention.

Taeyong looked up from whatever mundane mathematics sum he had been solving, acknowledging your presence with a nod and a slight smile. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he did so. You reached out and pushed it away for him.

“Whatcha doing?” You asked, eyes scanning the sheets of paper that had been strewn out on the counter. He always tried finishing whatever work his classes gave him during work when there wasn’t much business. He clicked his tongue.

“Assignments, projects, the usual. What did you get this time?” He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, glancing down at your newly borrowed book. You pushed it towards him so he could read the title. “History of Rebels.” He said, frowning, “why?”

A grin spread out on your features as you shrugged, “Want to know more about them, the government is so skittish, don’t you think?” You flipped it open to the first chapter, cracking the spine of the book. “They’re still people who exist.”

“True.”

And with that the conversation died, leaving the two of you sitting in silence as you worked on your own tasks, with him and his assignment and you and the book. In your opinion, the word ‘rebel’ was a little harsh on them, it’s not like they tried to overthrow the government or anything of the sort. Yet, these few people always seemed to get the short end of the stick, thrown to the side and considered abnormal.

This was probably why there weren’t many, the rebels were a minority in comparison to the rest of the world. Or perhaps they were everywhere but were just good at hiding their identities and what they could do. They definitely looked like normal people, they spoke like normal people and worked like normal people.

You had the first-hand experience of that since you had actually met one. Jaemin seemed perfectly normal (other than the throwing of oats, of course), you would never suspect him of being one of them if he hadn’t told you himself.

And you? You were perfectly normal, with your monotonous life and deprivation of excitement. Nothing interesting going on with you, and it never had, but with the added figure of this new guy, you had a feeling that would change. You wanted it to change, and you wanted to meet him again, however stupid or idiotic the prospect sounded.

Either that or you’d gain an affinity for porridge.

~

You sat at the checkout, lightly skimming through the book. It wasn’t a particularly busy day at work, and even your co-worker was busy scrolling through TikTok. Once you had caught her in the staff bathrooms trying to do the renegade. The deer in headlights look on her face was absolutely priceless, you wished you had gotten a picture of it.

Needless to say, that was a good day.

The door opened and you looked up to see who had arrived, eyes widening in surprise when you saw Jaemin walk in. Today he was wearing a graphic T-shirt and skinny jeans that showed off his figure. Not that you were staring or anything, it was simply something you had picked up.

His eyes scanned the area before they fell on you, who was already staring at him. Embarrassed by the fact that you had been caught, you quickly diverted your attention back to your book, flipping a page and humming softly to seem casual. 

However, your sudden need to project your inner musician had caught the attention of your co-worker, who glanced up from her phone and cocked her head to the side in silent question. You gave her a complacent look, and in doing so didn’t realize Jaemin was standing in front of you until he cleared his throat.

You shot up from your seat, shutting the book immediately and turning it to the side so he wouldn’t see the cover. Plastering on a smile to disguise your sudden eagerness at his arrival, you spoke, “Hello, welcome to Lyson General stores! How may I help you?”

Your co-worker took this as the cue to leave, mumbling something about inventory and walking away, shooting you a not-so-cleverly concealed wink. You bit back the urge to scowl at her and focused your attention back to Jaemin, who seemed amused by your greeting.

“I’m sure you remember me for a few nights before?”

“Jaemin,” you said with a nod, confirming his suspicions. He gave you a half-smile and stuffed his hand into his pocket, bringing it out and tossing something on top of your book. You looked at it, realizing it was the keys.

“You left these behind that night,” he said, “So I held onto them for you.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands. Today, instead of being splayed out on his forehead, his hair was parted down the middle to show it off.

“Aren’t you about a week late?” You asked, deciding to snap out of your surprised state. Your voice took a turn for the teasing as he blinked, opening his mouth to answer but coming up with nothing. Cute.

“Yeah but-”

“Relax pretty boy, I’m kidding,” you quipped, pocketing the keys, “And for the record, I didn’t forget them, I left them on purpose.” A bewildered look appeared on his face and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“So I wasn’t mistaken. Why?”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line, shrugging complacently. In truth, you didn’t really know why you had done it, anyone else would have called it sheer stupidity, which while that was absolutely valid, it couldn’t have been the only reason, right? Surely you had some sort of explanation for your actions.

“You intrigued me,” you said, “And you seemed harmless, you proved it to me by coming back here.” Your little nickname for him, pretty boy, really did fit him to the T. You had never really thought about a person being pretty before, but Jaemin seemed to have that aura of sorts around him, the way he carried himself just seemed ethereal in a way.

“What I’m trying to say is that you can come back here to do your Avada Kedavra shit,” you leaned over the table, bringing the same keys out again. “Because I’m feeling generous and you’re cute.” The last bit just spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it, and while true you had absolutely no time to be embarrassed by it. Instead, you just flashed him another smile and finger guns.

Besides, it was adorable seeing the tip of his pointed ear go a little red at your comment. It seemed as if he was even easier to fluster than you were, which definitely made him all the more entertaining. You held the keys out in front of his face, waving them about a little as if you were trying to cajole him into taking them.

Just as he was about to, you yanked them away, a smirk playing on your lips as you took a step back from the counter. An idea had planted its seed into your mind, and you wanted to test it out, even if it was potentially dangerous.

“On one condition,” you added, “You show me how you do it.” You dropped your voice to a lower octave so it was harder to hear for anyone that wasn’t him. Still, the playful grin remained on your face, as if it was challenging him.

His eyes widened as he looked around, “I don’t- this doesn’t make any- I don’t even know you!”

You rolled your eyes and bowed exaggeratedly, “Y/n L/n, pleased to meet you, good sir, now is it a yes or a no?”

Jaemin shook his head yes, but quipped, “Did your parents teach you nothing about stranger danger?”

You shushed him, grabbing the jacket that you had draped across the back of your chair. “We’re not strangers, we know each other’s names now, so let’s go already.” It wasn’t particularly professional, leaving in the middle of your shift to wander around with a boy you just met (which sounded rather scandalous now that you thought about it) but you knew your co-worker would cover for you. 

If not, you’d just use your knowledge of her trying to throw it back as leverage.

He clicked his tongue, “Now? In the middle of the day?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” you grumbled, pulling the jacket on and tugging at the ends. Stepping out from behind the counter, you made a beeline for the door, leaving him no choice but to follow.

It seemed that that was all Jaemin would be doing: following you. He shook his head and walked to the exit, to find himself standing side by side with you on the footpath just outside the store. You had been right to get your jacket, for it was a pretty chilly day for one in the summer.

“So, where to, Harry Potter?” You asked, looking at him. Even in broad daylight, shadows danced across your face as you spoke, keeping up with the magic act you had dubbed him as Jaemin bristled at the dig, scowling at you.

“I don’t know, you’re the one who dragged me out here with you.” His voice came out curt, “And I’m not a wizard, idiot, I barely know what I’m doing myself.”

It felt as if you’ve met him before and you know each other because the bickering came so naturally. You couldn’t believe that you were so desperate for some excitement that you bagged the next person that came along, who just happened to be as exciting as one can get.

Well, not currently, with him glaring at you. It was fun, provoking him and pushing him until he was annoyed, which bewildered you. You were definitely not the type of person to do so unprompted, but for some reason, it was like you couldn’t control what you were saying around him. Not that you cared anyways, it was pretty funny seeing him all worked up over the littlest of things.

“Fine, we could use the storage basement if I manage to get Dahyun out of there,” you proposed, talking of your co-worker, “Or we could run upstairs to my room and you can do your thing.”

“Your room sounds safer,” he admitted, and you snickered.

“You want to go to my room? Straight to the point huh? Nice.” At this, Jaemin flushed, cheeks reddening as he stuttered out a half-assed retort. You couldn’t help but laugh and patted him on the shoulder. “You really have to learn the difference between teasing and seriousness buddy.”

He chose not to respond, opting to wait until you made a move. Instead of going back into the store, you grabbed his hand and led him to the back of the building. There was a rusted door there, and you pushed it open to reveal a set of stairs that would lead up to your house. Your parents were currently out, which made the entire ordeal easier.

Skipping steps, you climbed the two sets of staircases quickly, fishing out your new copy of keys that you had wasted those ten bucks on. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized you left your book back downstairs, but were a little too jittery and excited to care.  Who cared about the history anyway, when you were about to have a live demonstration of it.

You still lived with your parents, since you attended the college in your hometown itself. It was great because you had them to fall back onto, you didn’t need to adjust to a new life or live alone, but that meant your transition from high school to university was so seamless you sometimes forgot you had graduated from the former institution.

Which brought you back to your main point, your life was too normal, too mundane, and familiar. You were so used to being the good kid, the one who followed the rules that you had ended up despising them altogether. Trouble seemed all the more enticing now that you thought about it.

Your home was decent, not too big but not too small either. In the words of Goldilocks, it was just right, decorated tastefully so that it was cozy and homely. The only downside was that there weren’t many windows, which made the place seem a little stuffy at times. In fact, your room was the only one in the entire apartment that received proper natural lighting, which was the reason you chose it in the first place. You preferred working with the sun’s light, rather than the white lights that had been installed on your ceiling.

Slipping your shoes off and keeping them to the side, you walked inside to the living room, crossing it and reaching the little corridor where the different rooms were. You opened the door to your own room and moved aside for Jaemin to enter.

“Welcome to Casa de Y/n!” You exclaimed, waving your hands about exaggeratedly before cringing, “Okay I’ll work on a catchier name later.”

Locking the door, you skipped to your bed and sat down, eyes bright and curious. Jaemin bit back a smile at your expression, looking around awkwardly. What was he supposed to show you anyway? It felt as if you expected him to whip out a wand at any given moment.

“Okay uh- what is something here that you don’t mind potentially getting broken?” He asked, looking to your chest of draws where a random pen sat, “Good with this?”

You nodded, “It’s empty anyway, knock yourself out.”

He looked at it, focusing all his attention on it. It was one of those cheap pens, the ones with a coloured lid and a clear body so you could see the inside and its refill. There was some space between the refill and the body itself, which was filled with air.

You see, everything in life, every object on this planet had potential energy stored up in its mass. Once it was put to use or moved, that potential energy turned into kinetic energy and actually completed work.

Everything had potential, Jaemin was just a little more in touch with it than the average person, even if it took effort. What he did was take that energy and convert it into its kinetic form, without physically applying any force on it.

He focused on it, willing it to move up into the air. His brow furrowed in concentration, imagining how it would look mid-air. He still didn’t really know how he did it, it seemed as if the ability lay within the power of his mind, something like telekinesis. At the same time, his mind was confused with this burden, so he didn’t know how to control it. He couldn’t grasp at the reins just yet.

Fortunately for him, the pen moved, just one end of it. It lifted into the air before the other end which held the cap joined it. It took a lot more energy than it looked like it did- because that was the thing, wasn’t it? In order to change that potential energy, he had to use his own Tit for tat, to balance the scales of reality.

You stared at it dumbfounded, mouth falling open in awe. After about two minutes, he let it fall again, leaning against the chest of drawers and sucking in a deep breath. Glancing at you, he couldn’t help the small grin that crept upon his face when he noticed your enamored expression. Usually, he was alone, so he didn’t really get anyone’s reactions, and most of the time he didn’t think his abilities were good enough to be fascinating yet.

But seeing you like that made him think it was, perhaps he was ‘cool’.  Until, of course, that smile was wiped away when you exclaimed.

“Yer a wizard Jaemin.”

“Fuck off”

~

What are friends? Well, google defined them as two people who have a bond of mutual affection, someone you were fond of and someone you could trust.

Well, you didn’t really think this applied to you and Jaemin. Mutual affection? Well, you supposed that was there if glares and jabs at each other counted. Were you fond of him? Maybe, you were definitely fond of teasing him. You sure as hell didn’t trust him, not yet at least.

And yet, somehow the two of you fit into the concept of friends anyway. You knew his name as he did yours, he dropped by the store at least once a week and the two of you would talk, sometimes he’d come in the middle of the night while you snacked on Cuppa’ and watched him do his thing.

And he had your key, so really the two of you sort of rushed into the whole ‘friend’ thing. 

Sometimes, you’d just hang out, walking around town, and talk about random things. He really was just a normal guy. He went to a university that was a little out of town and was a psychology major. He liked to dance and had a cat.

And yet, this should have brought your world back to where you had started, except it didn’t. You realized you looked forward to your little meetups with him, you would get excited when he came around to visit you at the store. The new edition into your life gave you a little change, one you had looking for, for god knows how long.

Another thing you learned about Na Jaemin, was the fact that he was extremely good at getting his way or getting out of trouble. He’d pout, lips dropping sadly as his eyes widened in what looked like remorse. No one could say no to that face, not when he looked that devastated.

“No,” you said firmly, an unimpressed look on your own face. Correction, no one but you could say no to that face. You knew it was just an act, he didn’t actually feel that way. He was just good at making it seem as if he was. 

“Please?!” He asked, sounding a little desperate at this point, “Look it was a mistake but my mom got so happy so I just-”

“Told her you had a girlfriend? And said it was me?” You stared at him in exasperation, not knowing whether you wanted to slap him or kick him out of your room. Forget friends, this thing the two of you had was moving way too fast. 

“Look okay, I panicked! Most of my friends are guys, I couldn’t say I was dating one of them, could I?”

You poked your tongue through your cheek, “I mean….”

“She got excited when she thought I had a girlfriend okay?” He sighed, collapsing next to you on your bed, “You were like, the first girl I thought of.” At this, you snorted, leaning your back against the wall.

“I’m the only girl you thought of.”

“Which is why you should be flattered,” he pointed out, before sighing, “Look, it’s just dinner alright? I’ll owe you a favour in return and besides, it’s not like I’m asking for your firstborn child or anything.”

You hummed in thought, “If you wanted my firstborn you’d have to actually be my boyfriend.”

Jaemin reeled away from you to the other side of the bed, disgusted by your outlandish statement. You simply smiled in return, sickly sweet, before nodding, “But I’m interested in the favour part of it.”

Staying where he was on the bed, which was about a good three feet away from you sat lest he gets you pregnant with the magic of touch, he shrugged, “That’s up to you, but don’t make it something stupid, okay?”

He gave you his address, and a few days later, you found yourself sitting on the floor of your room, surrounded by different outfits. It was a Friday, and you had to get ready for dinner with Jaemin’s mother. Honestly, you should have picked out what you were going to wear the day before, but had somehow convinced yourself that it wouldn’t be a problem.

However, that had come back to bite you, as you sat there, stressing way more than you should have been. As he said, it was just dinner. A simple outfit would have done the job perfectly, and yet you were panicking.

This was ridiculous, it wasn’t as if he was your actual boyfriend, this was all acting. For heaven’s sake, the two of you weren’t even proper friends! But those weird thoughts started filtering into your mind, those thoughts you really didn’t have to think about. What if his mother didn’t like you? What if she deemed you a terrible influence on her son? What if-

Of course, all of this depended on your outfit.

Groaning in frustration, you pushed yourself off the ground and got to your feet, grabbing the first two things you saw, promising yourself it would be what you wore. You raised them up to inspect the blind choice until you realized you had chosen two shirts.

It was fine, that was just the trial round. Tossing one of the shirts back onto the bed, you picked out a skirt. You looked over your dressed figure in the mirror, tucking the ends of the shirt into the skirt and puffing it out a little. Would it look better if you had just left it out? What if you wore pants?

Shaking off your overthinking, you grabbed your stuff and told your parents you were leaving. You had told them that it was your friend’s birthday and he was having dinner to celebrate. If that meant an intimate-ish meet-up with their mother, you didn’t really know or didn’t care.

Well, you did care, but you told yourself you didn’t. Why should you? The only reason you had even agreed to this stupid idea was the prospect of having power over Jaemin in the form of a favour. 

So why on earth were you thinking this much? It was just a habit of yours, to think far too much, more than it was good for you. Catching a cab, you gave the driver the address and slumped in your seat, hoping you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself.

Standing at his doorstep made your nerves make an appearance for the second time that evening, and you had to psych yourself up before you rang the bell. It was awkward, the thought of having to act like someone’s girlfriend, let alone the boy who you’ve barely known for a month.

Jaemin himself answered the door, a smile appearing on his face at the sight of you. For some reason, you felt a lot more at ease, that usual urge to tease him coming back. Grinning, you cocked your head to the side.

“So excited to see me, huh?”

That smile dropped briefly as he glared at you, before plastering it on again and pulling you inside the house, wrapping his arms around your torso. You let out a surprised sound at the sudden hug, hesitantly returning the gesture.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” you muttered, “Uh-”

He shushed you, “Give it a minute.”

Sure enough, you heard the padding of footsteps approaching, and when you peered over Jaemin’s shoulder, you saw a woman standing there, a motherly look on her face. Her eyes lit up at the sight of you, hitting the back of Jaemin’s shoulder playfully.

“Honey! You didn’t even tell me she had arrived!” She scolded her son, who shrugged sheepishly, letting you go from the hug. You reluctantly took a step away, realizing that you liked the warmth of his hug. Brushing the thought away, you smiled at the woman, who you presumed was his mother.

She gave you a warm smile, pulling you into her arms immediately before you could even introduce yourself. Her embrace was warm and comforting as well, it must have been something that ran in the family.

“You’re the girl my boy has been talking about!” She said, pulling away and studying your face, that smile of hers never dropping. “You’re prettier than I thought!”

There was no time for thank you’s or grateful responses as she dragged you into the living room and sat you down on the couch, before muttering something about getting dinner ready refusing all offers to help out from your end. You threw a confused look at Jaemin who shrugged, walking over to where you were sitting and pat your shoulder.

“She’s adopted you now.”

“Sweet-”

“Jaemin! You still need to help me!” She called out from the kitchen, and your ‘boyfriend’ sighed. Getting to his feet, he used that innocent look of his again.

“Seems like you’re the favorite child.” He grumbled, walking out of the room and you couldn’t help but giggle. Your outfit hadn’t even mattered, you had been pulled into their little world inside their house and didn’t mind it at all.

Dinner was a sober affair, with polite conversation all around. His mother asked you about what you studied, about your parents, and the usual interrogation a parent did to their kid’s significant other. Just like he had said, she really did seem excited by the fact Jaemin had you. 

The night ended peacefully, and she forced Jaemin to drop you back home since it was dark outside, even though you had assured her you would be fine. This was how you found yourself sitting in Jaemin’s old Prius as the two of you drove on the highway. A song that sounded like it was by someone like Selena Gomez played on the radio, filling the silence.

When you had reached, you glanced towards him and smiled.

“Time to break up, boyfriend,” you declared, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you face him. He grinned cheekily, before leaning forward until your faces were impossibly close.

“No goodbye kiss? What is it in the movies- one last kiss?”

Your cheeks were lit aflame at the statement, and for once it was him teasing you, a smirk on his stupid pretty face. With a start, you noticed how attractive he was like this, and as fun as being the one who usually did the flustering, being on the receiving end of the stick made you realized that you sort of liked it.

A part of you wanted your position of power back, and to actually kiss him to shut him up, but the sheer thought of that made hear rush to your face. You glanced down at his lips for a moment, before panicking and looking back up, pushing him away from you.

“In your dreams,” you muttered, opening the door and getting out of the car, “This is a cold hard breakup and it is mutual.” You had to get away from him as soon as possible before your damn mind decided that this was the perfect time to start overthinking all over again because frankly his lips did look kind of inviting and they were a pretty crimson colour and-

He laughed, cutting through your thoughts and snapping you out of your reverie. Looking at him in bafflement, eyes lighting up in amusement at your obviously panicked state. 

 “You really have to learn the difference between teasing and seriousness buddy.” He mocked, voice taking on a higher pitch that was meant to be you. It was the same thing you had said to him a week or so ago. Scowling at him, you slammed the door shut, walked away, and back to the storefront when he called out to you again.

“You forgot your keys!”

Dammit.

~

The librarian gave you a very confused look this time around when you borrowed a physics textbook from the library. It was already the middle of the academic year, so really there was no need for you to borrow one for just a week.

You didn’t react to this, instead confidently strutting out of the library and to the bus stop to catch one home. You had gone a little later today, it was about seven in the evening at the sky was painted a gorgeous orangy-red colour.

Sitting on one of the bus seats, you leaned back and looked out of the window for a few minutes, before opening the textbook. You didn’t particularly like physics, and yet you had willingly borrowed a textbook. There was a reason for this, of course.

Jaemin had told you a little more about his abilities, which had set you off on a thinking tangent. It did sound a lot like what you had learned (or slept through) in the tenth grade back in school, so you decided to pick it up again and see if it all made sense.

Flipping to the table of contents, you resisted the urge to shut the book and throw it in your backpack so that it may be ignored for the rest of the year. Unfortunately, you didn’t have a backpack with you and was forced to continue with your endeavor. Obtaining the page number of your desired chapter, you turned to it.

Chapter 2: Power, Work, and Energy.

As you read about work and how energy contributed to applying power, his word’s started to make a lot more sense (which was a clear sign saying that you had, in fact, slept through your physics classes). However, even with this new information taken in, he still seemed like somewhat of a fictional character.

An idea formed in your head, slowly pieces of it coming together as your eyes widened with the thought. It was an outrageous one, absolutely maniacal, but then again, the fact Jaemin could move stuff with his mind alone? That was pretty maniacal in itself. So this inkling of thought didn’t seem as unattainable.

After all, everything you knew as your reality had potential energy, did it not?

~

Jaemin thought you were interesting.

He didn’t dare elaborate on that statement, lest he thought something stupid. ‘Interesting’ was a neutral word, it could mean good, or bad, and no one would know unless he described his definition of interesting when it came to you.

And thus, he decided that he was not going to.

“Nana? Hello?” His friend, Jaehyun, snapped his fingers in front of Jaemin’s face, “Were you even listening?”

Nana, that was a nickname his friends had given him because of how affectionate he was. It hd started out as a joke, a play on his last name, but it ended up sticking.

That was why so many people knew him but called him Jaemin Nana was just an inside joke he managed to tolerate. 

He sometimes wondered how it would be if he was known for something else, for his abilities instead. Would he appear in the headlines of the papers like the other rebels? Would people ask him to move stuff for fun as if he was an act in the circus? In that scenario, everyone would definitely know who he was.

What would it be like, to be forgotten by the world?

To be fair, it was inevitable. Even if most people around him and the people at university knew who he was, that wasn’t enough to keep him in memory, was it? People were often forgotten pretty easily, it just took a new distraction to divert the attention of others. What happened to those who stayed in the shadows then, those who took a back seat? 

Memory is a fickle thing, like the phrase demonstrated: out of sight, out of mind. Sure, sometimes thoughts lingered, but ultimately, it all washed away like grains of sand by the ocean, to join the countless other memories, locked away and lost to time.

“Jesus Christ dude, you’ve been all over the place lately.”

He snapped out of his thoughts, humming in question at Jaehyun, who sighed in exasperation. Jung Jaehyun was his best friend, someone he trusted with everything he had, and yet, even he didn’t know about Jaemin’s talents. 

And then there was you, someone who had been a stranger. He had admitted his secret to a person he didn’t even know over someone he did. Then again, he never really had the choice considering you had threatened to call the police on him, but then he had willingly chosen to go back and return your keys when he could have easily kept them for himself anyways.

Something made you special, the problem was that Jaemin didn’t know what the fuck that was.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “Yeah I have. My mother still thinks I have a girlfriend.”

Jaehyun snorted, “Of course she does, but how come our conversations always come back to this new girl?” There was an undertone to that statement Jaemin couldn’t quite put his finger on, as if his friend knew something about him he didn’t.

“They don’t? I’m just telling you,” he shrugged, playing it off as indifference.

“About her? How come I’ve never met her?”

He could see where this conversation was going and decided that he didn’t have the patience for it. “She goes to the Uni in town,” he muttered, with a sort of finality to the sentence that told Jaehyun he wasn’t interested in elaborating. He refused to elaborate when it came to anything to do with you.

“Okay, so you’ve been picking up girls from town? Why didn’t you take me along?” His friend raised an eyebrow, clutching at his chest dramatically. “I’m going to die alone. Funny, I always thought it would be you.”

Jaemin glared at his friend, saying something biting in return. Jung Jaehyun was interesting too, but he was fine with elaborating here.

Jung Jaehyun was interesting in the most annoying way possible.

~

You watched as the cereal box floated a little towards where you were sitting, before falling back to the ground and tumbling over into its side. You grinned, placing the pop tart you were munching on down and clapping your hands in celebration. This turned into a yawn as you slumped against the wall.

It was three-ish in the morning, and you were keeping Jaemin company as he practiced. Lately, he had been getting a lot better with the whole ‘moving shit around with his mind’ thing, experimenting with bigger objects, and you were just there for moral support. However, you would have been much more supportive if it wasn’t, you know, three in the fucking morning.

You were currently sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall as you watched him. Picking your pop tart back up, you bit into the knock-off pastry, wondering why they skipped out on that odd strawberry filling. One half of it wasn’t even filled with it.

“What if I tried moving a bag of rice? That’s heavier, right?” He suggested, picking the box of cereal up and getting to his feet, putting it back in place. He couldn’t seem to leave it around, and instead of clearing the place after he was done, he did it immediately. 

You shrugged, pointing to the smallest bag that you could see, “Start with that, but try not to drop it, the mess would be a headache to take care of.” He obliged, taking his former seat next to you on the ground and doing his thing. You watched sleepily, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight.

Every time you saw him do this, it always left you awestruck. You should have been a little less surprised, but the fact that practically no one else could do something like it? It was like magic in your eyes, your five year old self would have been absolutely enamoured.

It was as if Jaemin was your very own fairy godmother, if fairy godmothers also doubled as your fake boyfriend and were ridiculously attractive, but that wasn’t important.

As the bag of rice lifted into the air, you let your mind wander. Instead of even getting into the friends phase, it had jumped straight into this odd grey area where the two of you would spend a lot of time together, meeting almost every day. Your parents asked if he was your boyfriend, which you hotly denied. Taeyong asked where you had been going instead of visiting him at the flower shop. You didn’t have a proper answer.

This only made your best friend tease you and try to pry it out of you, but nothing had worked. Honestly, you kind of wished it did, so you had some sort of direction over navigating this confusing area. You had never been in such a position before, and didn’t know what you were supposed to do, or what you were supposed to expect.

Unless of course, you expected nothing. And you shouldn’t have expected anything, and yet here you were, waiting for some sort of answer, or something. You didn’t even know what you expected, goddamnit.

Suddenly, Jaemin scrambled to his feet, catching the bag that was about to drash to the ground in the nick of time. He glanced at you sheepishly, and you rolled your eyes, getting to your feet and walking over to help him out it back in place.

“So you’re definitely not ready for that yet.” You said and he sighed, standing a little off to the side as you put the bag back, and leaned against the shelves, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. The weird lighting was making your eyes hurt, and he felt a little bad for dragging you into his business every time.

Yet, he didn’t have the heart to tell you to leave and besides, it was not as if he had forced you to stay with him either.

Some moments in life didn’t make sense, even if the both of you tried to figure it out. Two heads were better than one, but what if neither knew what they were trying to put together? Some moments in life were just there in the fleeting, and you would never make any sense of them until it all clicked into place.

You picked up a smaller bag of oats, a shit eating grin on your face as you held it out to him. “What about this?” One look at it made him glare and you and you shrugged, “Just try would you? I didn’t even say anything.”

Your voice held a sing-song lilt to it and he turned towards you, grumbling under his breath. “You don’t have to say anything, I just know what you’re thinking.”

For some reason, that statement prompted an odd fluttery feeling in the pits of your stomach. Brushing it off to the side, you looked at the bag pointedly. “Doesn’t matter what I’m thinking, does it? You can’t prove much, so just do it!”

Nike was really missing out.

He glared at you once more for good measure, before focusing on the bag. To your delight (and probably his as well) it left your hands, floating about an inch above them. Your eyes lit up in what could have only been described as the purest of childish wonder, lips parting in surprise.

“Kind of feels like I’m doing it,” you muttered absent mindedly as you looked at it, all prior wants for sleep gone from your face. Jaemin cocked his head to the side, somewhat forgetting about how he had to control the bag, instead focusing on your excited face. It was cute, seeing you looking like a kid in a candy store.

With a start, he realized that he wasn’t putting much effort at all into keeping it up, in fact, he was relaxed. All he was doing was keeping the thought of it in mind as he admired how excited you got.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, making you look at him. “I’ve figured it out.”

“You what?” You frowned in confusion, and he laughed, the sound echoing through the empty store like music.

“I’ve figured out how to do it- look I’m not concentrating as much and it's still up!” And indeed it was, an inch above your fingers as it had been for the past five minutes. You scoffed in a mixture of disbelief and amazement.

“How?”

The smile fell off his face and he scratched the back of his neck, “Uh- I’m not really sure?”

You held in a snort, but instead smiled at him, deciding that you should at least celebrate his little revelation before you continued to make his life a living hell. He just seemed so excited, like a little puppy that discovered how to dig or something.

“That’s great!” You exclaimed, beaming at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it had to do with something about you, but he didn’t think too much about it, nodding and looking back at the bag. He took a step towards you, thinking about  how he wanted it to lift a little more into the air.

And it did, eliciting a pleasantly surprised gasp from you. You let your hands fall limply to your sides as you stared, before looking back at him, not being able to say anything.

In your silence, you realized that he was extremely close, almost as close as the two of you had been in the car the other day. If you just moved a little forward, you were sure that you would be able to kiss him. It seemed as if Jaemin had picked up on this close proximity too, the tip of his ears had turned a little red. 

Wait a damn minute- kiss him? Where the fuck had that thought come from? To be completely fair, it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before, but given the position you were currently in, you wished you didn’t have the ability to think (like that friend of yours from highschool, Mark Lee. You were pretty sure that all that went on in his head was Wii music).

“I think,” he started slowly, “that I was thinking about it too much.” His voice was just barely above a whisper, but it felt much, much louder. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Oh?” Your voice comes out tiny, almost brittle. He nodded carefully, as his eyes flitted to your lips and that was when your mind decided that all logical reasoning should henceforth be thrown out of the window as it short-circuited.

He hummed, “Yeah. I think I’m thinking a little too much right now too, right?” His eyes met yours once again and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He licked his lips, “Am I?”

This was the worst question he could have possibly asked you, because of your overthinking tendency. What in the world was he supposed to mean by that? Did he mean what you thought he meant? Or was that just your mind being wishful? Were you supposed to think about him thinking too much because-

“Why don’t you find out?” You stumbled a little towards the end of your statement, inwardly cursing for it. Great, you had wanted to sound nonchalant, but instead you ended up sounding like a schoolgirl who had a crush.

Oh.

Because you could even think about thinking of that new development, his lips were on yours. They were softer than you had imagined them to be (not that you had imagined or anything), moving hesitantly against your own. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer timidly.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you cupped his face, kissing him back. It wasn’t a very long kiss, before after barely a few seconds, he pulled away, cheeks flushed. He refused to acknowledge your presence right in front of him, and your lips twitched at his adorable reaction.

Clearing your throat, you held his face between your hands, making him look at you. And in the dead of night, surrounded by assorted grocery items with a bag of oats hanging above the two of you, you managed to figure something out.

“No,” you said firmly, “You’re not thinking too much.”

~

“Are you waiting for Jaemin?” The man standing beside you asked. It seemed as if he had moved closer to where you had been standing to ask his question. You nodded, frowning at him in confusion.

The man let out a triumphant sound, “So you’re the mystery girl.”

You blinked, “The what now-?”

He gasped in exaggerated offense, “Don’t tell me he didn’t tell you? Damnit.” He clicked his tongue, before smiling at you, dimples lighting his face up. “I’m Jaehyun! Jaemin’s best friend!”

“Oh,” you said in surprise, smiling back at him, “Y/n, nice to meet you!” You introduced yourself, making small talk with him. He was easy to get along with, so the conversation was pleasant. You wondered why Jaemin had never told you about him, oh the fun you and Jaehyun could have with teasing the poor boy.

This was the exact reason why Jaemin hadn’t introduced you to Jaehyun, in fact, seeing you talking to him made the poor boy freeze on the spot and debate running away. Dealing with the two of you separately was enough work.

However, you spotted him, a smile taking over your features as you waved to him. He sighed, walking over, blinking in surprise when you slung an arm around him.

“You have such lovely friends, Jaemin!” That infuriating look that outright told him you were about to make fun of him was back in your eyes and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, should we go?”

“Oi! Getting rid of me because your girlfriend is here?” Jaehyun raised an eyebrow at Jaemin and almost instinctively, you retracted your arm from his shoulder, heat rising to your face at the statement. 

Girlfriend? Were you his girlfriend now? The two if you hadn’t really talked about your relationship, it was all the same if you were being honest. Your usual bickering, with the added feature of him kissing you to shut you up. Not that you were complaining or anything but-

“Shut up, man,” Jaemin groaned, ‘We’re just uh- doing something.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Dude, you couldn't have said anything worse than that.” You deadpanned, brushing away all the embarrassment and decided to consume your entire being. “He’s teaching me to dance.”

Jaehyun hummed, obviously unconvinced, but shrugged, and waved the two of you off. “Have fun with whatever, I guess.” He winked at you, before walking away and you turned to Jaemin with a glare.

“We’re doing something? Literally nothing sounds worse.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but came up with nothing, ending up looking like a fish as he gaped. You snorted, slipping your hand into his, “Come on.” You dragged him with you to the bus stop, sitting down at the waiting seats.

The reason you had even gone to his university in the first place was because, well now you could and secondly you had something on your mind. In fact, it had been on your mind for a long time now, and with him getting better every time the two of you met, you decided it was a good time to finally tell him.

“Do you like Physics?” You asked, bringing the textbook out of the bad you had been carrying around. You had kept it for another week, and the librarian was positively bewildered at this point.

You peeled off an old lollipop wrapper that decided to stick onto the cover of the book. It must have been lying in your bag for months now, and back into it it went, as you opened the textbook to Chapter 2. Jaemin raised an eyebrow.

“Uh..I guess?”

You frowned at it, exaggerating a gagging motion. “You like Physics? What demon possessed you?”

“The same one that told me it was a good idea to kiss you.”

Sticking your tongue out at him childishly, you placed the textbook in the middle so he could read as well. Nerves crept up and into your stomach as you swallowed thickly, and bit the bullet.

“So you know how you told me about the whole energy thing?” You asked and he nodded, eyes scanning over the contents of the page. You moved closer to him, and continued,“Well, I was thinking-”

“That’s dangerous.”

“-since!” You shot him a glare, to which he responded with a grin. “Everything is made up of energy, including our reality, I was wondering.” You were aware about how idiotic your next statement sounded, but you went through with anyways.

“Since you can bend energy to your will, could you bend-” You hesitated, before blurting it out, “Reality?”

He didn’t respond immediately and you silently wondered if you should have just kept your mouth shut. Maybe he was right, thinking for you was dangerous. A bus stopped, but since it wasn’t the one you were waiting for, you didn’t give it even a glance, letting it pass by as you awaited Jaemin’s response.

“I haven’t thought about that,” he said finally, “I mean- I guess? I’ve never tried.” You bite down on your lower lip at this, shutting the book.

“Forget it,” you muttered, “It was just a stupid thought.”

“No, no,” he assured you, a small smile creeping up on his face, “I think it’s definitely something to think about- something I could try.” He shook some of his hair out of his face. “It would take a lot more effort, which means more practice and more late nights with you.”

“You really need to think before you speak dude,” you muttered, causing his cheeks to go a vibrant rosy colour as you put the book back in your bag.

“I didn’t- I meant the store! You know I meant the store!” He scowled at you and you laughed, leaning forward to peck his lips. He obliged, kissing you back, hands finding your waist as he pulled you ever so slightly closer.

Whatever it was that you had with him, you really liked it.

When the bus you had been waiting for came to a stop, you pulled away, scrambling to your feet as the two of you caught it as quickly as you could before it took off again, giggles erupting from your lips. 

And even if the whole reality thing didn’t work out, or both of you forgot about it, it wouldn’t matter, you decided. This current reality of yours was pretty neat.

~

It was only a matter of time before Jaemin’s mother found out that you knew about his abilities. She still thought you were his girlfriend, and while she was concerned about you knowing, she welcomed you nonetheless.

You were currently sitting in his room, staring at the glow in the dark stars that decorated his ceiling. At first you had teased him about it, but then you started finding them endearing, the way that they were always there and were always going to shine at night with their ghostly green colour.

He had tried to figure out how to ‘bend reality’ as you had put it, but to no avail, so now both of you had given up, lying on your backs, side by side. The conversation was pointless, idle even, but you didn’t mind. His voice was nice.

You wondered if this was one of those rare moments which you couldn’t quite figure out. You definitely couldn’t figure yourself out, or maybe you refused to do so. You glanced over to steal a look at him, only to find him already looking back at you, causing butterflies to wreak havoc in your stomach.

“Hey, pretty boy.” Your voice was soft as a smile appeared on your face. That little nickname of yours had stuck, though he used to find it annoying at first. Now he just chuckled, returning the smile.

“Hey you.”

“I like you,” you blurted out, poking your tongue through your cheek, “Though I’m sure you figured that out from all the making out.”

He raised an eyebrow, sitting up and clearing his throat. “Good thing I like you too then, hmm? Also, is this your subtle way of telling me you want a kiss?”

You grinned, “Absolutely.”

And this was how you ended up lip locked with Na Jaemin. He cupped your face, thumb caressing your jawline as his lips moved against yours. It was much more confident than the first time he had kissed you, in fact this time he even went in with a second kiss. 

His hands fell down to your waist as he hovered above you, your arms wrapping around his neck as the two of you kissed. You giggled against his lips, fingers entangling in his hair.

He took this as a sign to get you to laugh, scrunching up his fingers against your torso and tickling you. You let out a surprised shriek, curling away from his touch, but he chased you, pinning you down onto the bed as a smirk overtook his features.

“Going somewhere?”

You glared at him weakly, trying to struggle out of his grasp, “Sto-”

“Honey! Will you be staying for dinner-oh.”

His mother stood at the doorway, eyes wide at the scene. It must have looked very suspicious, and embarrassment flooded your system. Pushing Jaemin off of you, you looked away from her.

She blinked, before sighing, “So will you be staying, sweetie?”

“Yes!” You said quickly, blood rushing to your face, “Er-”

“Oh don’t worry,” she assured you, “I’ll be going now, whatever the two of you do, just be safe okay?” She winked at Jaemin, who practically shrieked.

“Mom!” 

But she was already gone, you could just about hear her faint laughter and you buried your face in the crook of Jaemin’s neck, flustered. He seemed to be in the same state, swallowing thickly at scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. You coughed, clicking your tongue.

“She definitely believes I’m your girlfriend now.”

~

The butterfly effect was the idea where small choices can have a big impact on a nonlinear system. So what you ate for breakfast probably influenced another decision down the line, let's say, what you ate for lunch. If you had a heavy breakfast only two hours before lunch (courtesy of you sleeping in) then you’d have a light lunch.

Of course, this was just an example. There were much bigger consequences than your lunch that could take place.

Jaemin supposed this was where the multiverse idea sprung from. Each different choice leads to a different reality, so maybe there was a reality where you had a light breakfast four hours before lunch and thus you were now starving. That called for a heavy lunch.

Now, Jaemin thought about how he managed to make objects move- he imagined it. He thought about what he wanted to happen, and hoped for the best. It had been getting a lot easier to do so, lately, and so he put his theory to test.

Imagination was a funny thing, a concept he didn’t quite understand. Not yet at least, he was the type of person who lived according to the facts, even though the facts of his world had shaky foundations. Breathing out, he looked in the mirror and imagined how a different him would look.

 Maybe his ear wouldn’t be pointy? Maybe he would be the confident one, teasing you until your death instead of the other way around. Maybe he wouldn’t be wearing that blue-green flannel over his shirt.

Maybe he would despise physics, and you’d be the one who liked it.

He frowned, realizing that everything somehow came back to you. You didn’t even have anything to do with it, but you seemed to occupy his mind space (like Jaehyun would say, ‘rent free’). He also realized how it seemed to be easier when you were around, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

Sighing, he sat down at his desk, opening whichever textbook was on it to get his mind off of you. Psychology, perfect, just what he needed when he was thinking too much. 

He read the first few lines of whatever page he had opened, before stopping and starting again. Frowning lightly, he flipped to a new chapter and tried again, but nothing seemed to work. Every word printed on the thin paper seemed to fly over his head no matter how much he tried to grasp it.

Nothing made sense, and he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why. The words blended into each other until it was a gibberish mess. He panicked slightly and slammed the book shut, letting out a confused, shaky breath.

Something was off.

He looked around his room again, narrowing his eyes at his surroundings. The aura, the energy in it seemed to not be cooperating all of a sudden like it had been shaken out of its place and Jaemin had to put the puzzle pieces back where they belonged.

He blinked, noticing that his view of where his bed was was weird. It was as if it had cut out, and the sheets crinkled in a different way. Folded over in the opposite direction to where it was supposed to. Like a photoshopped picture on top of another. 

It was a photo of the same scene, but on a different day. Or perhaps a different time. The places where it changed, it seemed to shimmer a little. It was very slightly, but definitely there, as it was-

Jaemin jolted in his seat, eyes widening. There was no way, it seemed utterly impossible, and yet here he was, staring into what he hoped was what he thought. Had you been right? Had he actually managed to? He got to his feet, taking tentative steps towards whatever the fuck it was.

He wanted to touch it, but it seemed risky. He didn’t even know how it had happened, he had pretty much given up on it and yet, unless he had finally gone mad, it was right in front of him.

Jaemin reached a hand out, barely touching the parts where the confusion and different-looking view met his normal one, before jerking back. Did he feel anything at the contact? He didn’t really know, but he jolted anyway. This couldn’t possibly be real, could it?

Or was this a different reality?

~

“What?”

“I swear- I don’t even know how it happened!” Jaemin tried convincing you and you rolled your eyes, hitting the back of his head playfully.

“I believe you, idiot, I’m just surprised.” You were sitting on the checkout counter, legs dangling below. The heels of your foot hit the underneath of it, but you kept doing it anyway.

It was a little past closing time, already dark outside. You had been surprised when he showed up, clad in that stupid flannel he seemed to wear so much and jeans. The look in his eyes had been akin to that of a deer in headlights. Immediately, you were by his side, asking him what was wrong.

You expected him to come at three in the morning or something, not at nine pm. Before she left, Dahyun threw you another one of her winks, telling you to have fun, which left you having to stumble to Jaemin and ignore her.

“So it worked,” you said slowly, glancing up at him, “Holy fuck, I can’t believe it.”

“You just said you did?”

You threw him a scathing look, hopping down from the counter and dusting the non existent dirt of your jeans. The buzz of traffic outside could still be heard, and it gave the situation a sense of normality. 

Every time you were with Jaemin, it felt as if the world paused, like it was waiting for the perfect moment to continue. Like it was just the two of you messing around and discovering more and more about each other until there was nothing more to know. Perhaps that was when the earth would revolve again, around its axis and the sun as if nothing and ever happened in the first place.

But that wasn’t true, it was just a figment of your imagination. The lights illuminating the street outside flickered as a testament to this, and you grabbed a new bottle of water, unscrewing it and bringing it to your lips to drink.

He stiffened all of a sudden, frowning lightly as he looked around. You gave him a strange look and he snapped out of it, stuffing his hands into his pockets as if he was hiding something. 

“I’ll have to figure out how to do it again,” he muttered absent mindedly as he stared at something. You followed his line of sight, but it just led to a wall, which puzzled you. He had been doing this a lot lately, and for some reason even though you were curious, you couldn;t bring yourself to ask why.

“I’m sure you will.” You said confidently, cracking a small smile, “Hey, look how far we’ve come, from porridge throwing to reality bending.” You kept your tone light hearted, earning a small chuckle from him.

“From strangers to strangers who kiss,” he quipped and you rolled your eyes, switching the main light off.

“I wouldn’t say we’re strangers really,” you countered, still not really knowing how to classify your relationship with him, if you could even call it a relationship. He sighed softly, leaning against the counter beside you.

“Then what would you say we were?”

A sly smile creeped up on your face and Jaemin internally groaned, already knowing what that meant. Even in the now dim lighting in the store, your eyes twinkled in amusement as you faced him, a smirk on your pretty lips.

“We’re the bestest of friends!”

You went on the tips of your toes, a stupid grin on your face at his disgusted reaction when he reeled away from you. Laughter erupted from you and he couldn’t help but join in, no matter how much he tried to hold it back. Your smile was infectious, the peals of joy that escaped you made him just as happy as it did you.

You would probably be with him till the early hours of the morning, sacrificing your sleep to spend time with him. That was okay, you’d make up for it in class. You’d close up properly an hour or so before opening, where he would leave and you’d wait until the night once again.

Or perhaps you’d hop onto a bus and visit him at his University, and meet that friend of his again- Jaehyun was it? You didn’t really care. 

Maybe that made sense.

~

Nothing was the same anymore.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something had changed, and it was others around him knew it too. Jaehyun seemed distant, the other day he gave Jaemin a confused look and walked away. He came back a few minutes later though, as if nothing had happened in the first place.

The only person that seemed for or less unaffected was you. It was nice having that sense of stability, but the ground beneath his feet was constantly shaking lately.

Those odd cuts to a different reality kept popping up here and there. They were so subtle, he almost didn't catch them. He still didn’t know how he was doing it, or what he was doing to trigger it, but he kept trying.

It felt as if it was slipping through his fingers as soon as he got an inkling about how to do it. He was running a marathon, jumping from different times and places just to figure out how he was doing it.

He hoped he’d find it soon, because it felt as if he was running out of time.

~

The first time you noticed, you were standing outside the store with Jaemin. 

It was a rainy day, in contrast to the previous blisteringly hot ones. The sky had taken to a shade akin to steel, grey and forlorn. The two of you were under the protruding roof of the store that shaded you and kept you dry from the downpour.

It didn’t keep your feet dry, however, because when the water hit the ground, it splashed into the puddles and in different directions, so now you had wet socks.

Wonderful.

However, that wasn’t what you were paying attention to, even if it was extremely uncomfortable. You made a mental note to get a new pair of shoes for the rains, so as to not find yourself in this less than optimistic situation.

But yes, what you were focusing on was Jaemin himself, and the way your hand fit perfectly into the crook of his. Your fingers were intertwined as his thumb brushed over your palm affectionately, and you sighed.

His hands were warm, it was your first grand revelation, and you squeezed it slightly. A small smile made its way onto his face as he squeezed back. You were taking him to the library, the place you visited every week.

You glanced down at your hands, and that was when the realization settled in. It was odd, you didn’t quite know what you were seeing, but it was a little odd.

At first you brushed it off, waiting for the rain to subside, which it fortunately did after a few minutes. Trying your best not to step in the puddles, you managed to navigate all the way to the other side of the street. A part of you wished you hadn’t kept your umbrella back at home, but now you were too far away to even retrieve it.

And that was the second time you noticed it. 

For some reason, Jaemin seemed to be extremely pale. That rosy flush you were so used to was gone, in fact, he looked rather grey in the setting, with the drizzling rain and cloudy sky. It was as if he blended in, almost like he was-

See through. 

You blinked, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you. But no, he was still this ghostly pale colour, you could just see the faint outline of the pole he was leaning against. This shouldn’t have been possible, there was no way.

“Hello?” He snapped his fingers in front of your face and it was gone, as quickly as it had come. He looked fine again, perfectly opaque. You swallowed, starling out of your thoughts and met his eyes.

“Right! Sorry, blanked out there for a sec,” you muttered, “We should get to the bus stop, it’ll be a twenty minute ride, but with this weather it may be more.” You were rambling, trying to piece together what you had just seen. “Let’s just hope the bus isn’t all humid and gross.”

Ah yes, idle talk about the weather. What the fuck had you turned into?

He hummed, clearly not buying your lie. That was fine, he didn’t have to know, did he? Not straight away at least. What else were you supposed to say? Oh you gave me a Goosebumps moment there buddy, real spooky, wanna makeout?”

The strangest part about it was that iT felt like your fault. This was absolutely ridiculous, you didn’t even know what was happening, in fact, the possibility of your little breakthrough could have been a trick of the light. The possibility of that being-

Either that or you had finally lost your mind. Both options seemed entirely believable.

So you kept your mouth shut the whole ride, listening to him tell you about his trials with his friends and the whole reality shifting shebang, and that's when it clicked. Well, not entirely. It was the beginning of an idea, and yet you still kept your mouth shut. This had always been a hard task for someone like you, who always had a retort or answer to everything.

Dammit, that stupid Physics textbook didn’t tell you anything about this.

~

You stopped by the flower shop a few days later to meet Taeyong, who was arranging some flowers in a pretty bouquet. It had been a while since you had last seen him. He gave you his signature pretty smile, ushering you into the store and out of the rain.

“Carnations and Daffodils,” he declared, gesturing to the bouquet. He used to give you little tidbits of information about the different flowers he worked with from time to time, a little habit of his. “The former is used for funerals.”

“What a lovely bouquet!” You exclaimed sarcastically, sitting yourself down on the stool on the opposite of the counter, “I’m assuming, and correct me if I’m wrong, but this is for a funeral.”

He snickered, “Well no shit Sherlock, which explains the second flower.” He lifted the yellow flower up from the green spongy fixture. “Daffodils mean rebirth and a new life, like a small wave goodbye to the person when they leave.”

He spoke flippantly, as if the message didn’t affect him. It shouldn;t have affected you either, but for some reason it did. It seemed rather bitter, to leave a dead person flowers when they couldn’t even take it properly.

You had already told Taeyong about this thought, and he had flipped it off, saying that flowers were good at any time. You vowed to never bring flowers to a funeral thereafter, just to piss him off a little bit.

He jumped slightly, going to the bag and bringing out a few flowers. They had blue petals with little yellow centres that stood out. They were tiny, even smaller than the daffodils were.

“Forget me nots,” He placed them gently on the counter, picking up one and figuring out where to place it, “I bet you can guess what that means.”

“Don't forget me?”

“Close enough,” He clapped his hands and shrugged, “But really it’s more of a ‘remember me’ type of thing.” Picking up the next flower, he continued to explain, “In hopes of not being forgotten after death and as a promise from the giver of the flowers.”

You hummed, resting your head on your folded hands on the counter. “Like in Coco.”

Your friend nodded, and inspected the now finished arrangement of flowers, muttering something about how he was happy with it and how he had to start on the other bouquets. You looked at it, the blue flowers standing out with its cool tones. 

“Remember me.”

~

You squinted, leaning forward from where you were sitting and trying your hardest to see it, but you just couldn’t. Shaking your head, you threw Jaemin an apologetic look. The two of you were currently sitting in his room as he tried to show you how the whole reality thing worked.

“Sorry dude.”

“It’s gone now,” he said, voice all funny and hollow like. “It was just there, I swear-”

“Hey it’s okay,” you said, noticing the disappointed look in his eyes, “I mean, if you saw it, good enough, right?” You cracked a smile, cocking your head to the side. He pressed his lips together, clearly unsatisfied with your answer.

Then his eyes lit up, “Hey I can try again!” His voice broke slightly and you winced, because it was so obvious he was tired. He had been trying for a better part of an hour now, and was hell bent on showing you. You still didn’t know how exactly it worked, but you could tell it was wearing him down.

You missed it when the two of you would just fool around in the store at an obscene hour in the morning, which would somehow lead to kissing. That felt free-er, easier than it did now. Here you felt as if you had started something you wanted to stop.

“Hey you don’t have to,” you assured him, concern lacing your features, “Hey, instead we can go to that cafe down the street! I heard they have killer macarons!” You kept your voice light and cheery, not wanting to upset him. Getting off the bed, you dusted your hands together.

“No I swear I can-”

You reached out to touch his arm gently, “Yeah but I don’t want you to-”

“Well I do!” He jerked his arm out of your reach. Your eyes widened at the sudden movement, blinking when you realized he had quite literally shaken you off, but what startled you more was that it had happened again.

What exactly had happened?

His eyes met yours, dark, almost cutting through you, but it was almost the only thing you could properly see, the rest of him, was it even there? You could see the back of his seat, his skin was that deathly pale colour again. Jaemin was translucent and it freaked you out.

You let out a small shriek, stumbling backwards, grabbing onto the first thing that your hands came in contact with. Your lower lip trembled in shock as you stared at him, and he looked alarmed.

“Hey are you okay? Fuck, I’m sorry-”

“Please don’t,” you whimpered out, a scared expression on your face. “You- don’t try again Jaemin please you’re- I can’t think.” You slumped down against the wall, knees hitting the floor as you swallowed the lump in your throat. He watched, mouth going dry.

“You’re fading,” you muttered, “You’re fading, Jaemin please stop.” You sounded so terrified, and when he realized it was because of him. But he didn’t understand why you were scared, because he hadn’t really done anything. And yet you were practically shaking, pleading with him to stop.

“Y/n I-”

“You’re fading,” you kept muttering over and over, “And it’s because you’re doing this bullshit I- listen Jaemin please I know it was my idea but can’t you see what it’s doing to you?”

He knelt down, cupping your face and trying to get you to look at him. “Hey, listen, I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do it again.” His hand felt cold against your skin, colder than it should have been. You sniffled, nodding and leaning into his touch.

“No more practice….please.”

~

Ever since you had that scare in his room, you had made him promise you that he wouldn’t ‘practice’ ever again. You stopped talking about his abilities completely, which was odd considering there was a point where it was all you could talk about.

You told him why in the end, sounding unsure of yourself. Apparently, he was fading in front of you, sometimes you couldn’t even see him. You sounded so worried, that he promised straight away so as to not trouble you any more. He didn’t particularly like that concerned look on your face, when you were so prone to smiling 

But right now, well, you weren’t there, were you?

Okay, he did feel a little bad for breaking your trust, but you didn’t need to know, did you? Besides, it had nothing to do with you. He had just figured out how to work his abilities, and he wanted to try it out. He knew he could, but for some reason it never happened around you.

He narrowed his eyes, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked the same as he always did, with that pointed ear of his lips set in a perpetual pout. The lights weren’t on, so he couldn’t really make out his complexion that well, but it was okay. He knew how he looked.

He curled his fingers into a fist, breathing out slowly. He felt oddly lonely in his room, even though it was like this most of the time. A part of Jaemin knew that it was because you weren’t with him, but that was so stupid. He had been practicing for years alone, even without his mother and yet for some reason he wanted you there.

But as usual, he focused, thinking about what he wanted to happen. The sides shimmered, just around the outline of his mirror, before it disappeared.

Jaemin cursed under his breath, flopping onto the bed and sighing exasperatedly. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t do it or why it was suddenly so important to know. He had lived up until now without even the knowledge of the extent of what he could do and yet here he was.

Pathetic.

Letting his fingers loose, he turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling where his glow in the dark stars were stuck. They glowed softly, looking more pale yellow than neon green. It wasn;t as vibrant as it had once been when he had bought it, which was expected since that was when he was nine.

A few of them had fallen off over the course of the years, reducing the pack of fifteen he had gotten to a mere eight. Even those were holding on to dear life with the died out stickiness that probably didn’t work.

But that wasn’t the thing that troubled, in fact, it was how now that he counted the stars, it was a perfect fifteen. He recounted, using his fingers this time to double check as he pointed at each one carefully, before realising that it was indeed all fifteen. 

Jaemin frowned, sitting up straight and looking around in confusion. There it was again, that odd feeling about something being out of place. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, nor could he figure out where the missing seven stars had somehow magically shown up again.

Getting to his feet, he immediately stumbled, knees giving out under him. He yelped in surprise, grabbing onto the edge of the bed as he slumped down to the floor. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he shut his eyes for a moment.

God, he was so fucking disoriented all of a sudden. Nothing made sense, and he wanted to just forget it had happened. That is, if he could figure out what exactly had happened. That proved to be a task in itself.

He opened his eyes after a few minutes, and it was all back to normal, it seemed that way anyways. He pulled himself up to his feet, sucking in a deep breath and looking back at the ceiling, where the stars were back at number eight.

What the fuck?

His mind raced, he couldn’t even collect his thoughts. The feeling was gone and so were the stars. Biting down on his lower lip, he shook his head slightly and glanced up straight ahead, seeing himself in the mirror.

Except he didn’t see himself.

It was a shell of a person really, a reflection so horofic he wanted to look away, but he couldn;t tear his eyes from the sight. He stood there, but he could see right through himself, as if he was a projection of sorts. A trick of light.

He could see his wall behind him through where he was standing, the part he should have been covering. He could see the faint stain of crayon left behind from when he was six, a few scribbles here and there and that long crack in the wall that ran from the ceiling to the ground. 

Jaemin’s mouth went dry, and it stayed like that no matter how much he swallowed. Was this what you had meant when you said he was fading? Was this why you had been so scared that day, to the point where you were shaking?

He had to stop, you had been right after all, but for some reason it was as if he couldn’t. His mind went into overdrive and his knees buckled again as he fell to them on the floor, hands in his hair as he tugged. Eyes screwed shut, he begged for it to be a dream, because it was too much. It was just all too much for him.

The stars twinkled dimly as the air around him shifted and nothing would ever be the same again.

~

You felt out of place, standing there with a red solo cup in your hand and trying to locate Jaemin in the crowds. The music was obnoxiously loud, with its beat resounding through the house, throwing you off.

You weren’t even supposed to be there, this wasn’t even a party from your university. He had invited you and so there you were, standing like an idiot among people who had no clue who you were, nor you, them.

Taking another sip from your cup because you knew you’d need it, you frowned almost immediately, face twisting into displeasure at the taste. That had got to be the world's worst beer, and so you placed it down on an idle table, deciding to try and make your way through the party. The two of you had arrived together, but his friends had shown up and he was somehow dragged away.

You pushed through the mass of bodies, wishing you were back in your room, or perhaps in the store with him instead. That was much easier to navigate and way less stressful than your current surroundings. In fact, you’d even be up for more oats throwing if it meant avoiding this.

Needless to say, this wasn’t exactly your scene. It wasn’t as if you hated parties or anything of the sort, in fact you had attended quite a few, but neither were you a total party animal. It got boring and repetitive really quickly, which ended up with you leaving without anyone noticing.

But Jaemin was your ride, and the reason why you didn’t want to leave in the first place.

You should have stopped drinking that god awful drink from the first sip instead after finishing half of it. You couldn’t really feel your legs, but managed to reach the other room, which was thankfully not as crowded as the prior. Leaning against the wall, you closed your eyes for a moment.

Your head spun a little bit and you knew tomorrow would be a hell of a morning for you. You could breathe a little better in this room and opened your eyes again, looking around for a familiar face. You would be fine even with finding Jaehyun.

Luckily, you spotted his mop of brown hair and walked over to Jaemin, but he met you halfway, a stupid smile on his face. His eyes were brighter than usual as they travelled over your figure. It wasn’t as if you were wearing anything fancy, just a skirt and a shirt that was tucked into it so you fit in.

“You look nice!,” he stopped before sighing, “I told you this before, didn't I?” He winced slightly, “Sorry we got separated.”

“It’s okay,” you grinned, “Thank god I found you though, I don’t know anyone here and I’m dependent on-” You frowned exaggeratedly for effect, “You, ugh.”

He scowled at you, but it was weak. His hands found yours as he led you out of the room, to which you audibly groaned. The music covered up your protests as the two of you approached a hallway that was more or less completely deserted.

“Better?” He asked, and you nodded, finally being able to hear yourself think. You leaned against the wall and looked at him, who was already talking. “I don’t think my friends would find me here either.”

It felt nice, the way he wanted to be with you instead of his friends. It was a little stupid, the way it made you feel a little special, but you couldn’t help it. You really liked him, this boy who you didn’t even know existed at one point.

Love was funny like that, wasn’t it?

You blinked in surprise. Love? That was ridiculous, you didn’t love Jaemin. You had known him for a total of four months, love had to take way more time than that, right?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t catch the way his eyes had dropped down to your lips. When you did realize however, your breath hitched in your throat. How long had he been staring at you like that? Was he going to kiss you? Why were you nervous, because you really shouldn’t have been considering the two of you had kissed several times.

“Uh-” he started off lamely, making you snicker, “Can I kiss you?”

“We’re asking now?” You asked, a smirk on your lips, which was not great for him considering he was staring at them. He glared, “I don’t-”

“Just kiss me, dumbass.”

And with that, he pressed his lips to yours, and your fingers were curled around the collar of his shirt as you kissed him. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but the kiss was intoxicating, dizzying even.

It wasn’t a rushed kiss by any means, but it had heat rising to your face. His hands found your waist and pulled you closer, all the while pressing you against the wall, body flushed against yours. Your fingers entangled in his hair as your eyes fluttered shut.

His lips were cold for a split second, out of the blue, before they were warm again, impossibly soft against your own. The kisses were feather light, but intense at the same time. He pulled away for a moment, only to kiss you again and again until you were drunk on him.

Or perhaps it was that beer.

Whatever it was, you liked a lot more than you cared to admit, lighting tugging on his hair. You felt breathless, but in a good way, and you didn’t mind staying that way. 

“Nana- NEVERMIND HE’S MAKING OUT WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND!” Jaehyun exclaimed from the other end of the corridor, making you jerk away from the kiss, embarrassed at being interrupted from something that made it feel like you and Jaeminwere the only two people there. 

The interruption pulled you down back to earth, and your flushed. Jaemin clicked his tongue annoyedly, glaring at his friend. His hands were still on your waist, he was still impossibly close to you, to the point where you were sure your face was burning. This had never happened before, he had never managed to fluster you to this point. It had always been the other way around.

“SHUT UP!”

“YES I’M SURE Y/N WILL DO THAT FOR YOU!”

~

He tried again a few days later, because he couldn’t help it. He was curious and wanted to know more even if it was slowly wearing him down. Maybe he should have thought it through a little more, he should have just stopped the moment you told him to.

Because he ended up in the same position he was the last time, curled into a little ball on his bed, shivering weakly. He was getting worse and worse, he felt cold even when he was covered with three blankets. Sometimes he couldn’t even feel his fingers.

He had wished for it after all. Not directly, but his abilities were influenced by his thoughts. The problem was that they sometimes latched onto the random ones that made no sense. Ones that he never intended them to work with.

And somewhere out there, there was a reality where Jaemin wasn’t the overachiever he was known as. He wasn’t Nana, he was a no one that sat at the back. Just Jaemin, another person you’d miss in the crowd. No abilities, no late nights in the store, no meeting you, the random girl that had somehow lit up his entire life.

What life? Surely being an unknown side character had no excitement. There was no life there, not what he was used to anyways. Somewhere out there, Jaemin was just that, another speck on planet earth as it continued its revolution around the sun.

He was a forgotten person in that reality, where memory served no justice. A floater, if you will, invisible.

See through.

~

Jaemin didn’t show up that night.

You had waited for a good two hours, sitting all alone in the silence of the store until four in the morning, waiting for him to arrive. At one point you had accepted he wasn’t coming, but that didn’t stop you from hoping. 

In fact, you didn’t see him for several days, which left you feeling rather put out. Was he ignoring you? If so, why would he need to? Surely you hadn’t done anything wrong lately, right?

At first you decided to not think about it too much. There was no point in doing so anyways, you had much better things to do, like work on that essay for university that was due about two weeks ago. Why had you missed the deadline? Because of a certain cute guy with a pointed ear that had distracted you, so really this whole spiel was productive.

But that didn’t last long, of course it didn’t. With you and your wonderful tendencies to overthink, you were proud for lasting a solid two days before you had fallen into the pot of thinking too much. 

Hey, at least you managed to get that essay done.That was a point for team Y/n.

After another solid two days of your mind raging against you, you had come to the conclusion that your mini breakdown in his room may or may not have spooked him a little bit, but then that was so long ago. Three weeks, if you had been counting, which although you denied, were definitely doing.

It made no sense for that to be the reason, since just last week you had been in his arms, swapping spit with him. That night had even ended up nicely, he dropped you home and gave you a lingering kiss before you left.

You didn’t know why you were so worried, it wasn’t like you were his girlfriend or anything, in fact you were just the girl he happened to kiss sometimes. His bestest friend, as you had said, and as he was yours.

But oh, a small part of you did want to be his girlfriend, as cliche as it sounded. You often found yourself thinking about how it would be to be Jaemin’s actual girlfriend. How would it be to introduce him to your parents and watch him stumble over his words adorably.

How it would be to tease him all the time, and leave him flustered with a kiss at the end. To steal his hoodies and pretend that he had given it to you. To actually have a sort of foundation to whatever the fuck this was.

On the fifth day of this madness, you gathered the courage to go visit him at his university. As usual, you took the bus and arrived around the time he would be getting off. You had made a stop at the library to finally return the textbook, and borrow a new book instead, and was now sitting on one of those wooden benches, reading.

When you had reached the third chapter, and there was still no sight of him, you shut the book and looked around, biting your lower lip in slight confusion. He should have been out ten minutes ago and yet you were still sitting there, waiting for him.

When you saw Jaehyun, you practically scrambled to your feet to ask him about the boy that had been plaguing your thoughts.

So you made your way to him, tapping him on the shoulder from behind. Jaehyun turned around, a smile taking over his features and dimples showing. You returned the smile politely and he greeted you.

“Hey Y/n!”

“Hey Jaehyun! Uh, have you seen Jaemin?”

To this, he frowned in confusion, cocking his head to the side as if he was trying to assess who you were talking about. You raised an eyebrow, “Your best friend?”

He scoffed uncomfortably, “I’m sorry?”

“Jaemin?? Nana??” You used that stupid nickname he had, hoping to spark some sort of reaction from Jaehyun, but he still seemed confused. He got this odd dazed look in his eyes, as if he wasn’t paying attention. You pressed your lips together, snapping your fingers in front of his face.

“Hello?”

Then that look was gone, and his face fell. Now you were the one who was confused, wondering why he looked so sad all of a sudden. Someone cleared their throat from beside you and you turned around to face them.

The guy stood with five others, a sad look on his face. His cat-like eyes were dark and he glanced down at his feet, hands stuffed into his pockets before he looked back at you and spoke.

“You don’t know, do you?”

You swallowed thickly, not understanding what was going on. You looked back from Jaehyun and to the new guy in bewilderment and sighed exasperatedly. “Will someone tell me what happened? Dude I just came here for Jaemin-”

“Y/n,” Jaehyun said grimly, “Jaemin is dead.”

~

You felt it before you heard it, and it hurt hard. 

It was like someone had plunged a knife into your gut and trampled all over your heart. Sucking in a breath, you staggered back a step, blinking rapidly. Like you had been given a shove and the impact left you scrambling for words.

And that was when Jaehyun’s words finally registered, and a confused sound left your lips. Your mouth went dry as you tried to put them together. It made absolutely no sense, there was no way. You had seen him just last week, he was there, it wasn’t possible.

“W-what?”

Your voice broke, and the two exchanged glances. The boys behind the latter also seemed uncomfortable and morose with the situation.

“He’s dead Y/n, his funeral is in three days.” Jaehyun's voice broke. You shut your eyes before opening them, turning around on your heel and walking away. There was no way, you refused to believe it.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur, and you found yourself sitting in the seats of the bus again, knees pulled to your chest as you muttered softly to yourself. It was like someone had taken over your mind and refused to let you think straight. Your feet lead you along their own path, until you were standing outside the door of his house.

You knocked, praying you would be met with his smiling face when it opened. Your palms were sweaty as you waited. The door was made of wood, something you had already noticed the last time you had visited, but now you latched your attention onto it, trying not to think too much.

The door swung open and you were met with his mother, whose eyes met yours and it was like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs. She pressed her lips together, opening her arms and you fell into them, tears springing to your eyes.

You hadn’t cried up until this moment, but seeing her there, with her holding you and whispering brokenly that it was going to be okay, that hit you like a truck. You clutched onto the front of her shirt, trying your best to blink your tears away, but they just kept coming. They trickled down your face and it felt as if someone had punched you in the gut.

Na Jaemin was dead.

Na Jaemin, the boy who had done absolutely nothing wrong, was dead. His mother knew, his friends, and now you knew. He was not going to show up at the store in the dead of the night- because he was dead.

A sob left you and you buried your face in the crook of his mothers neck. It hurt so fucking bad, way more than it should of.

It didn’t feel real, surely this was just some sort of sick, twisted dream. Your throat felt all scratchy and for some reason you couldn’t stop crying. Her hand cradled the back of your head, and at one point she started crying too.

Jaemin was a son. Jaemin was a guy you really liked and never had as your boyfriend.

Jaemin was dead.

You walked into his room a little later, looking around. A part of you almost expected him to jump out and try to surprise you. That had happened one time, because he was tired of you always having the upper hand, and it had still backfired. That was okay though, considering he was happy with how you almost snorted up milk with the way you laughed.

Who was going to do that for you now?  

You sat on the bed, pulling the pillow into your lap and pressing it, fingers fisting and squeezing it until your knuckles hurt. You cried again, because there would be no one to tell you he liked you dorkily anymore, no one to come around the store and mumble some stupid excuse just because he wanted to see you.

That was gone. He was gone. 

How? How had he gone, it was all so sudden, one moment he was there and the next he wasn't. You buried your face in the pillow, which was now wet with your tears, wanting to think properly. You wished you had never walked in on him that night, you wished he had never kissed you, you wished you had never known him in the first place because then you wouldn’t be in this position.

That wasn’t true, not one bit of it. You loved every moment you spent with him, and no matter how much it hurt right now, you wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

“Stupid pretty boy,” you muttered, looking up and around the room, wiping your face with the back of your hand. The room felt hollow, and empty even thought it was full of little trinkets and items that told you about him

But it was missing him.

And missed your state, you saw it for the first time.

You were staring directly at the mirror, and for some reason it was like the air around it shimmered. It shook, just around the end of it. A small, sad smile creeped up onto your face as you scoffed, thinking about how bitterly ironic it all was. The one time you see it was the time he wasn’t around.

“I’ll miss you,” you whispered to the room and it was gone. Taking in a deep breath, you got to your feet, looking around one last time before walking out. 

But you swore you saw a faint outline of flannel facing you back in the mirror.

~

Funerals are funny.

The concept of celebrating someone’s death, standing around a grave as people talked about that someone, people placing flowers on top of the coffin just as it was about to be let down for real, six feet under as they joined the rest of the dead.

Sometimes there was tea, maybe sandwiches, as if to cheer people up. Then there were people crying as they talked about how it was so unfair for that person to pass away, or about how he lived a long good life, or how he was just so young.

But what made it really weird was watching it. Especially if you were the guy who was supposed to be dead.

Jaemin stood a little off to the crowd that surrounded his coffin. It was like no one could see him, he was really and truly invisible. 

He wasn’t dead, that was impossible. He was standing around talking to his friends just two days ago. Oh no, Jaemin wasn’t dead, that was just the easiest thing for everybody to believe, the only way the world could make up for his disappearance. 

Because you had been right after all, he had faded, faded to the point where he couldn’t be seen, he couldn’t even be considered alive.

But he wasn’t dead.

He saw you standing next to his mother, right hand over your left. You were wearing a pretty black dress, sniffling and brushing your nose with your hand. Your eyes were glossy and your lip trembled as you looked around and at the coffin.

You thought he was dead.

You watched as the ceremony took place, people placing flowers on top of the wooden coffin, his mother silently crying at the loss of her only child. 

Seeing so many people talk about him, the stories they had and the way they knew him, it made it all the worse. He couldn’t have been dead, it felt like he was more alive than he had ever been at that moment. 

You glanced up, eyes widening when you saw him standing there.

Oh great, you had finally lost it after all this time. This all really had been a figment of your imagination, you were about to wake up from this horrible dream any moment now, you were sure your obnoxious alarm would ring and scare the crap of you any minute now.

But it didn’t and Jaemin stared back, eyes as wide as yours was. He pointed to himself, then to you and frowned in confusion. He mouthed in bewilderment, ‘You can see me?’

You blinked rapidly, nodding and turning to his mother, whispering something about taking a minute to yourself and walking off. When he saw you walking off in another direction, it was like deja vu, with him trailing behind.

After walking for a bit, you spun on your heel, eyes glazed over with tears, but they still managed to throw him a death glare. 

“What the fuck? You were dead-” You began rambling, before faltering, when you realized that Jaemin was still see through. Shutting your eyes, you pinched the bridge of your nose and shifted your weight from one leg to the other.

“What happened?” And suddenly, even with your glare directed straight at him, your voice broke and so did his heart. He felt horrible for making you believe he was dead, especially seeing you so distraught like this.

“I-I’m not dead.”

“Well then what the fuck was everyone talking about?” You hissed out, taking a step forward and tilting your chin up as if to remain strong. His eyes softened as he studied your features, the cure of your lips, the slope of your nose. He studied them and took it in because it felt like the last time he’d see them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered out, “God, Y/n I’m so sorry-”

“You don’t get to ‘Y/n I’m sorry’ me, fuck you I-” You looked away, “Jaemin I thought you were dead. I thought I lost you- have I lost you?”

There was a sort of desperation in your voice as your eyes met his, silently pleading with him to tell you the opposite. To tell you that you hadn’t lost him, and that you never would, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t lie to you like that.

“You were right,” he said finally, biting down on his lower lip, “I should have listened, but I didn’t. I faded.”

You let out a sob, burying your head in your hands, as if you didn’t want to look at him ever again. That was okay, he remembered how you looked, with your pretty eyes, and the way they twinkled mischievously when you were excited, or how your eyes crinkled at the sides when you laughed. 

“I hate you,” you said, venom lacing your voice, “I- I hate you so much you selfish idiot.” There were no tears running down your face, but he could see them in your eyes. Part of him wanted to pull you into a hug and tell you that was a selfish idiot. God, you had every right to think so.

“You’re selfish because you made me fall in love with you, and you’re just gone.” You said it softly, but it was the only thing Jaemin could hear. You loved him? You loved him and he had destroyed it.

He had fallen in love and he had ruined it. His first love and his last, because it would never be, it just couldn’t. You were still alive, you were normal, and you definitely didn’t deserve to wait around for him. He could never come around.

Na Jaemin was as good as dead.

“I love you too,” he said, giving you a sad smile, “Thank you for dealing with my bullshit.”

You snickered through tears, scoffing and looking at your feet. The world was unfair and it had ripped the boy you had loved away from you before you could even properly be with him. And now you never would.

It was true after all, some moments in life didn’t make sense, and they never would until the end when it all came together. They were just there in the fleeting, until they were gone, like sand slipped through an hourglass. You’d just have to wait until the end when it made sense, because it didn’t, not quite yet at least.

“Goodbye Jaemin,” you said finally after clearing your throat, shaking the hair out of your face and giving him a crooked smile. “This was- this was fun.”

“Yeah it was,” he said, leaning forward and kissing you, which felt more like a cool breeze instead of his lips. Another sign telling you he wasn’t yours to keep or even someone anymore. 

“Goodbye.”

You left him for good this time, walking away from the shadow of the boy you loved. The ceremony was over, and the only people left were you and his mother. You glanced at the coffin, walking over and placing three flowers on top of it, breaking your vow.

The first was a carnation, a common flower used at funerals. The second was a daffodil, as you silently waved him off, hoping he’d be happier somewhere else. The last one was a forget-me-not, symbolizing that there was no way you’d ever forget him.

“I love you,” you whispered to them, taking a step back, and going to his mother. You’d be alright, life would move on somehow. You’d go back to your normal, monotone life, without the late nights and the butterfly kisses and skipping class to be with him. You’d go back to being the girl that lived by the rules, stuck in your little town.

And you’d remember the pretty boy with the pointed ear, who brought magic into your life, even if it was only for a little bit.

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[culture-cafe]

—»announcement

the network is moving to @ankathi-a ! With a new concept and different team of admins/staff, it will function much more smoothly than this one!

REASONS FOR THE MOVE ARE AS FOLLOWS;

as the head admin and creator of @culture-cafe, i am simply not happy with it anymore. i want a network that has the ability to do much more than just a ‘cafe’ theme.

the co-admin; xing yi; is not active on tumblr that much, which makes it difficult for me to manage this network alone. I’d much rather change it to something I am motivated to work for

the new net is a shared sideblog!! this makes it easier to actually do the net work, without having to log out of my main blog

ADVANTAGES OF THE NEW NET;

like it is mentioned above, the new net functions on a shared sideblog, with the queue moderators and co admins alike. This makes the functioning of the net much smoother

@ankathi-a has much more scope for activities such as events and even broadening of the groups we facilitate!

it has a concept that i am motivated and willing to work for. I wasn’t fully satisfied with the ‘cafe’ theme, and this is just an upgrade

faq;

what about the existing members? existing members of this network have been directly transferred to the new one! the members list will be out shortly. all current members tagged in this post have been added, please go and follow the rules of the new network! 

what about those writers who have applied during the current application period? there hasn’t been an application post since the acceptance of our third batch; the fourth batch of applicants will be announced with the first batch of members from the new network! don’t worry, you do not have to reapply. this application and now been closed.

is there a change in the tracking tags? yes! the new tracking tag is #ankathia; all the information is up on the new network so make sure to check it out.

TAGGING OUR CURRENT MEMBERS;

@radiorenjun @moonbeamsung @the32ndbeat @rouiyan @navyhyuck @jenosslut @flowerboykun @kunrengui-writes @rebellionburnsthemup @chicksung @heephoria @mrkcore @urlocalnctstan @yamyang @alicanta77 @jaemotel @sweetlyjaem @fqirysung @gothboyjisung @channoticedmeuwu @ppangjae​

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#—announcements #IMPORTANT!!

[moonbeamsung]

Who are your top 6 favourite writers here on tumblr and why are they your fave?

oNLY 6 OKAY GOSH UH—

@jaeminhours - (no longer active) i’ve been reading her stories since before i joined here. she really knows how to capture and evoke emotions out of readers, the way she writes angst is utterly heartbreaking. i’ve never felt quite as invested in a work as i’ve felt in hers.

@navyhyuck and @chicksung - vee and sophie both write some of most butterfly-inducing and heart-fluttering stories i’ve ever read, so much so that i sometimes need to pause and compose myself before i continue reading them. the beauty of their plot progression + the heart & intention they put into every single word are just a few of my favorite parts of their writing.

@rouiyan - ree’s overall writing style is so elegant and when i read her works i really feel transported to the scene. it seems like every fic she writes can be a comfort fic, the warmth of them makes me feel so at home and they could very well be novels of their own.

@jisungsmochi - nat is absolutely amazing at capturing the members’ personalities and mannerisms in her works, whether it’s a full-on fic, reaction, or headcanon. the plots themselves always match them well and her works are such a joy to read!

@nakamotocore - ie never seems to run out of creativity, she writes so many different scenarios and i guarantee you could spend so much time exploring her masterlist without ever getting bored! in addition to her seemingly endless imagination, i also really admire the fluidity of her style and her description skills.

go here for more writer recs / here for my mutuals list because the majority of them are also writers and i recommend them all as well!

#hannah’s recs #anon ୭̥⋆*｡

[danishmiilk]

if your moots were fanfics, what would they be? :p

ANON! i’ve been wanting to do this for the lONgest time (two days) so i’m soooo happy to have received this LMAO even though,,, this may NOT be accurate but im just gonig to do this randomly to the best of my ability

it’s very long, so more under the cut

@lebrookestore || taeyong + bookshop!au. so basically taeyong works at this bookshop and shes always going in to flip through books and such because she can’t afford to buy them and taeyong’s supposed to chase her away but just doesn’t have the heart to and one day she really just goes up and thanks him and hes like no problem and its usually quite empty so the next times she goes to said bookshop taeyong will go and sit with her to read the books and they talk and like wow they like the same shit! so then they Fall In Love wow

@hannie-dul-set || jaemin + definitely fluff. so basically her best friend (me! IM SORRY ALLEX BYE) and her best friend’s boyfriend (SICHENG! IM NOT SORRY ALLEX BYE) decided that their best friends weren’t getting like enough DATES so then they dragged them out on a double date (only for her and jaemin it was a bLIND date). it was at the dog cafe and the moment me and sicheng got there we just left them and ran away and theyd already bought like food so they decided to just stay and it was awkward for a bit but then like, jaemin was so good with dogs and hot damn. then yall exchange numbers and by the time yall get out of the cafe you see me and sicheng across the street using binoculars to spy on yall.

@seeing-dreams || chenle + def fluff, highschool!au. i feel like it’d be the secret admirer letter thing, which i think you already know what i mean? like chenle’s your crush bc (tbh he’e everyone’s) hes so hot and hes part of the basketball team and he also sits with you in bio and also at the same time you’ve been getting notes taped to the underside of your table in bio, and its like 10 or so letters before you get the last one asking you on a date (and leaving their number!! so if you want to date then call!!) and so youve alr fallen for this guy’s diction and you call the number and chenle’s phone rings. he winKS at you and youre like oH MY GOD

@floweringtheflowers || mark + YO IM SORRY BUT ISN’T YOUR WRITING ACC LIKE NEOSCULPTURES A SMUT BLOG I VAGUELY REMEMBER YOU SAYING THAT OR SUMN SO + pwp LMAO IM SORRY- and like obviously i don’t read those but like yeah take it take it away you just give me very strong pwp vibes bye

@moonlightjeno || jeno + arranged marriage!au, royalty!au, one sided etl!au. MHM SO BASICALLY YOURE A PRINCESS AND JENO IS A PRINCE AND THE KING AND QUEEN OF JENO’S COUNTRY (cough doyoung and his wife) dECIDE THAT OK TREATY so then you and jeno have to get married and like bc were such nice people we decide that okay, yall get married for oNE YEAR if really cannot then like fine,, yall can divorce. so yall just like try to tide it out for a year right but you need to fake in the eyes of the public and you hate jeno but hes just trying to make this more bearable for the two of you and one day yall have an argument and jeno goes like “I JUST REALLY wANT TO KISS YOU, OKAY?” *squeal* and youre like whatthefuck and then, like, you know what? you jsut pretend that didn’t happen but you eventually agree to just be cordial and friendly and become friends, and you know jeno’s in love with you but you try to not make it awkward and somewhere along the way you fall in love *clasps hands together with a huge sigh* deserve.

@sehunniepot || (i want to write this alr) yuta + hogwarts!au, etl!au, HOUSE RIVALRY!AU BC THOSE ARE SUPERIOR. yuta’s definitely a gryffindor so you can be a slytherin since you never tOLD me. so so anyway youve hated each other from day one because of some stupid misunderstanding of him purposely tripping you in the train and then youre sorted into slytherin and him in gryffindor and the next four years are pranks and sneers and insults and glares. then the yule ball comes up, and because the hogwarts teachers are so JUMPY you have a dancing lesson with randomly assigned partners and you get yuta and AAAA “boys, put your hand on the girl’s waist.” and youre glaring daggers but yuta does it anyway with that cocky grin and you hold hands and your hand’s on his shoulder and are his ears red, or is that just your imagination?? then yall just tease each other the entire dancing lesson and when you get back to your dorm best friend!doyoung’s all like “why was nakamoto blushing-” and you’re like “nothing.” then then YOU REALISE YOU CANT STOP THINKING OF HIS HAND ON YOUR WAIST AND DURING THE NEXT DANCE LESSON YOU NATURALLY GRAVITATE TOWARD EACH OTHER AND DOYOUNG’S LIKE ?? OKAY THEN ILL JUST GO DANCE QITH SOMEONE ELSE?? then the teachers (who know of your stupid rivalry) are like: okay then miss l/n and mr nakamoto if you’ve already paired up. OH THEN A FEW WEEKS LATER HE ASKS YOU TO THE BALL UNDER THE GUISE THAT “YOU ACTUALYL DANCE WELL” AND YOURE LIKE “YOURE NOT TOO BAD YOURSELF” but its all, ofc, a pretense and then at the ball you all (having alr realised you like each other), confess, and promptly kiss under the shining ice stalactites magically hung from the trees in the grounds of hogwarts. (OH MY GOD FUCK IM WRITING THIS)

@doyounged || doyoung + fluff, def + i think high school sweethearts!au so this is the really fluffy oneshots where like youre super shy!! like its pretyt obvious you have crushes on each other but like first relationship or wtv and you jsut brush fingers and BLUSH and put your arm around each other and BLUSH and cheek kiss and BLUSH and you get my point? yeah yeah that’s the whole au

@moonbeamsung || jisung + fluff af + best freinds to lovers!au the only thing i can think of is like cute sleepovers and the sleeptalking thing, i’ve written something like that for you i thiNK?? 

@orange-nimon-cross || cai xukun + angst. just pure angst. im not even kidding the angst is so bad oh my god- probably hurt-comfort. like xukun’s your emotional rock and hes jsut so,,, ROCK AND HES ALW THERE FOR YOU AND KAJOFSDF A HUG SOLVES ALL and something like that you get my point, yes??

@rouiyan || hyuck + uhm, ice hockey player hyuck. like i think you did one with jeno or something but like idk why does the concept suit your vibe so muCH?? this one bc hyuck is playful it’d be like you’re dragged to the matches bc jeno’s your best friend but you couldnt give a flying fuck about ice hockey and his annoying teammate (hyuck.) keeps flirting with you and like one day you ask him straight up why are you flirting with me and hyuck’s immediately apologetic like shit did it make you uncomfy ill stop and youre like hes,,, a nice guy and then yall bond over like post-match meals which jeno starts dragging yall all to and then yeah sicheng and ten (same hockey team) help hyuck plan a confession and he confesses at the pizza shop.

@radiorenjun || renjun + angst, but with a happy ending if i feel like it- oh hold on maybe not angst ill save you the heartbreak. def artist!renjun, not even going to think about it, and kind of supernatural/soulmate? like he has dreams of a mystery girl every night and that’s the inspo for all his paintings, and he tries selling them to an art gallery and youre the curator of said art gallery adn youre liek “thats so beautiful, but why is it always the back view of the girl?” and renjun looks up from his paintings to explain and he sees you and literally screams because he’s never seen the mystery girl’s face but HE KNOWS its you. it HAS to be. so the two of you try figuring out the stupid phenomenon and who knows, maybe it’s just fate’s way of letting the two of you come together! yall become a thing YAY

--- once again, thank you anon for this ask! i really enjoyed doing this and like you know what?? i may write some of these aus someday. definitely the yuta one. someday.

#moots! #anon #asks #mention games