#till the wheels fall off

[rebelwrites]

One: Good Days And Bad

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The Wheels Fall Off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

A/N: And here it is the first part of of probably one of my favourite series I’ve written ❤️

Warnings: strong themes of memory issues throughout

Staring across the bar, a heavy sigh escaped my lips as I tossed the damp rag into the stainless steel sink. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, no matter how hard I tried. In one of the booths sat the one person who meant the absolute world to me, the one person who never gave up on me when others had. The one person who was always in my corner fighting for me when I had lost all my strength. The one person who knew how to turn a shit day into something memorable. The one person I would do anything for, including giving my life if it came to that.

There were good days and bad, unfortunately today was one of the bad ones. We had to take each one as it came, but either way we made sure someone was always with him, that he was never left alone, especially on days like today.

Not that anyone could do anything about it– nothing would bring him back to the present. Once he slipped into his own world it was like his soul was being taken over. The vacant look on his face became permanent making him look older than he was. And unfortunately, there were only a handful of people who knew how to deal with these trances.

Between running the bar, the cafe, and tag teaming his care with Jax and Chibs, I didn’t have time to breathe let alone spend any time on myself. I always found myself checking the vacancy pages for any of the Formula One teams and every so often the position of social media manager or assistant came up. I knew Pops would have wanted me to apply but I could never bring myself to press the apply button.

No matter how bad the situation got I would always put my family first.

Finally I dropped my gaze to my phone, tapping the button on the side, causing the screen to light up. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips at the cheesy grin of my niece staring back at me. The sight of her wearing my Ferrari hoodie always made me chuckle, the damn thing buried her but she didn’t care, all she wanted was she had her Auntie’s hoodie on.

Shaking the memory away, I rolled my eyes realizing that once again the boys were late. I should have known they would be, time keeping wasn’t their strong point. Locking my phone, I slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans before pouring a fresh mug of coffee, making my way around the bar. Within a few short strides I found myself at his corner booth.

“Here you go, Pops,” I hummed, placing the mug on the table in front of him. “Chibs will be here soon okay.”

“When’s the race on?” he grunted, pointing at the tv that was positioned over the bar. “Isn’t it Monza this week?”

Reaching out I took his hand in mine, somedays all I wanted to do was cry when he was like this but, by now, I had become a pro at hiding my emotions around everyone, especially him.

“Pops, it’s summer break, remember?” I whispered. “There aren't any races until the end of August.”

“No, no, no, no,” he exclaimed, snatching his hand away from mine. His gaze was on me but it felt like he was staring right through me. “You have it all wrong.” His voice was clipped in anger, but I knew it came from a place of fear and frustration rather than real animosity. It was easier for him to believe that we were wrong than to accept what was happening.

Taking a deep breath, I mentally counted to ten in my head remembering that this wasn’t his fault, this was just a bad day. I knew it was better to just agree with him rather than try to argue, but it didn’t always stop me from trying to get him that nudge back into the present. I needed to think on my feet, pulling my phone out of my pocket pretending to check on the race schedule when I was actually on Instagram, liking one of Charles Leclerc’s recent posts.

“Okay Pops, I’ve just checked and the race is going to start soon.” I whispered, leaning forward pressing a kiss against his cheek. Pushing myself from the booth I swiped the remote from the bar. I didn’t need to ask which year of Monza he was talking about.

It was always 2019, at this point I could recite the commentary word for word from how many times this had happened. Luckily for me, it was a race I was happy to watch over and over again being a Ferrari and Charles Leclerc fan.

It didn’t take long to get everything set up, so I could make a start on the list of stuff that needed to be ordered. Although it was the end of July and peak time for our summer rush, due to the recent bad weather we had been having, the town was quiet. People didn’t want to venture out to a small town in the middle of nowhere when the storm hit, normally it was around the start of September which was perfect because the summer tourists had ventured back home but this year it was like the world was against us, as the storms graced us with their presence at the start of July meaning our regular summer visitors decided to stay away.

I had a love-hate relationship with storm season. There was something calming about watching the sky light up as the rain thrashed down. Many times I would grab a blanket and a fresh mug of coffee, setting up camp on the sofa located on our porch, with the canopy providing the much needed shelter from the heavy rain. But recently, I began to hate the change in weather, realizing they had become one of the triggers for Pops. We couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason for his mental decline, but we assumed it had something to do when he was in Vietnam.

Summer tourists always kept me running, but now with Pops, it was even more hectic. Jax tried his best, but once he became a single father, his priorities shifted, his mini-me becoming the center of his world. I know it weighed on him, not being able to help as much, but I refused to let him feel guilty for being a good father, so instead of complaining, I worked harder, slept less, and caffeinated more.

Glancing from the TV, I spotted Jax and Chibs strolling into the bar. The first thing I noticed was Jax wasn’t wearing his kutte, it was quite rare he didn’t have the leather hanging from his shoulders but he always made a point of keeping the days we spent together just about us, not about the club or the business. Chibs on the other hand never took it off, I swore he slept in the damn thing.

the moment I raised my brow at them their smirks fell from their faces, instantly being replaced by a guilty look. “What time do you call this, aye?” I hummed, folding my arms across my chest.

“Sorry lass, we got held up at the garage.” Chibs nodded, flashing me an apologetic smile, rushing across the room joining me from behind the bar. “How’s JT been this morning?” he asked, quickly changing the subject, not wanting to receive a bollocking.

“Vacant, but not as bad as last night.” I sighed, resting my head against Chibs’ shoulder, letting the smell of leather and tobacco wash over me. “He keeps thinking it’s race week so the next month is going to be tough.”

“We will just keep putting old races on,” Chibs hummed, pressing a kiss against the top of my head. We quickly found that putting races on was the best way to calm him down when he was getting worked up, something about watching the cars making laps around the track helped him gather his thoughts.

“Yeah, all the ones where Leclerc loses or DNFs.” Jax teased, causing me to flip him the bird. “Anyway, you good to go?”

“The bikes ready?”

“On the flat bed so get your ass moving, because lord knows you need a break more than any of us.” Jax smiled softly, I could see the guilt shining bright in his icy blue eyes. “You know how much we appreciate everything you do for this family.”

To the world, Jackson Teller was an arrogant asshole, the President of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle club here in Charming, who had no heart and showed no mercy. Although, there was some truth in what people saw, to me he was my older brother, best friend, and confidant all rolled into one. I knew he felt guilty about not being able to look after Pops as much but I never held that against him. I knew that his daughter, Elenor, was his top priority. She had the face of an angel but we all suspected she was the devil in disguise. There was no hiding who her father was - she was a Teller through and through.

His words caused a lump to form in the back of my throat, replacing the one I had finally swallowed down about Pops having a bad day. “Nope, ain't happening, not today,” I said sternly, jumping over the bar, pressing my palm against his chest. “We aren’t going down that path today, okay? You know I’d do anything for this family. You guys saved me so it’s only fair I return the favor,” I whispered the last part, feeling his large hand wrap around mine. “Now come on, there is a bike and a muddy track that is calling our names.”

Pushing myself away from him I made my way around the room, once I had reached Pops I leant down pressing a kiss against his cheek. For a moment he broke his gaze from the TV flashing me a soft smile before squeezing my hand.

“You let me know who wins okay?” I hummed, as he turned back to watching the race. Of course, I knew who won the race but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was how excited he would be to talk about it with me when I got back. “Love you Pops.”

Feeling Jax wrap his arm around my shoulders told me it was time to go. Flashing him a soft smile I let him guide me out of the bar and to the truck.

The moment I saw our dirt bikes secured on the flat bed I couldn’t help but smile. This was something we planned once a month, no matter what was going on in our life, we always made time for this.

Not only was it a way to make sure we spent time together outside of the bar, but it was also an escape from reality. There was something about tearing around the dirt track, getting covered head to toe in mud that really cleansed the soul.

Taking a deep breath I wrapped my fingers around the door handle, rolling my eyes when I realized Jax still hadn’t fixed the damn thing. I swore this truck was one strong wind of becoming a pile of metal in the corner of the yard at the garage.

It had been in the family for years, all the paint was peeling, the arches were rusted out, the roof leaked when it rained and there was always a plank of wood strapped to the bed of the truck ready to load the bikes.

“We own a garage and you haven’t sorted this yet!” I scolded with a playful smirk on my face as I yanked the door open. I knew why this truck hadn’t been restored, every dent and scratch held memories for both of us. My fondest memory was the dent the shape of Jax’s head from when we had one of our rare fights and I slammed him into the truck.

“I will get round to it,” he chuckled, running around the front of the truck. “Now get your ass in, we haven’t got all day.”

Rolling my eyes at my brother, I pulled myself into the truck, slamming the door behind me. Without asking I reached over and grabbed the crumpled pack of smokes from the dashboard.

“That's it, just steal my smokes,” Jax laughed, raising his brow as he slammed the truck into reverse.

“Want one?” I hummed, holding the cigarette between my teeth.

“What, of my own smokes? Of course, I want one, dipshit.” He huffed, snatching the pack from my lap.

A silence washed over the two of us as Jax sped through the streets of our hometown, filling our lungs with nicotine. Even with my rare time off, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander back to Pops. No matter what I was doing I always found myself worrying about him, even though I knew he was in good hands.

“Stop it,” Jax said softly.

“You know I hate when you do that,” I huffed, resting my head against the window. “But I can’t help it. I worry.”

“I know,” he sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair. “I worry as well but you know he’d hate it if we put our life on hold because of him.”

He was right, but it was exactly what I was doing. When we found out he was suffering with his memory, I abandoned my dreams to do what I could to help the man that I called my father, the man that raised me as his when both my parents decided that drugs were more important to them than their own flesh and blood. So, instead of pursuing my dream of working on the formula one circuit, I took over the bar and cafe without batting an eye.

Before I could manage a reply, I felt myself being tossed around in the seat. If it wasn’t for the seat belt I would have probably been through the window.

“Now we are talking.” I grinned, slapping my palms against my thighs as I focused on the muddy track that laid before us. “The only good thing about weeks of rain.”

Jax didn’t need telling twice as he practically threw himself out of the truck and, from the sounds of it, was already working on the ratchet straps that secured the bikes. Following suit I joined him as he jumped onto the bed of the truck.

We had plenty of practice getting the bikes down so it didn’t take us long before we were pulling on our protective gear. Once I was straddling the bike I instantly felt at home, the grin on my face was wide as I wrapped my fingers around the throttle.

“You know having the number 16 on your bike doesn’t make it any faster.” Jax teased, passing me my helmet. “You aren’t Charles Leclerc.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I scoffed, pulling the lid on my head, flipping the visor up before speaking again. “Just because my bike is better than yours.”

“Squirt, we have the same bike.”

“Yet I’m still faster than you,” I said smugly. “Now, are we riding or chit chatting?” I hummed, slamming my visor down leaving Jax in a spray of mud.

“I’m gonna kill you for that.” His pissed off tone echoed through my helmet through the ear pieces we had installed.

“You have to catch me first, asshole,” I giggled, opening up the throttle, racing up to the tree line.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @celestialams @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc x oc #charles leclerc imagine #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller x reader #Jax teller x oc #jax teller imagine #till the wheels fall off

[teyums]

his voice oh my-??? and that was me barking btw, my bad

#till the wheels fall off #i’m not playin #lo’ak sully #lo’ak

[elvenferretots]

"There are, of course, a million tiny and ridiculous ways a person can get sidetracked and carried away off the main trail. But in the end, always, you become a hostage to who you are, to what you want or what you can't say, to what fascinates you, what breaks you down and holds you under; the sense (or nonsense) you feel compelled to build, the truth or meaning you try so desperately to find."

-Brad Zellar, Till The Wheels Fall Off

#brad zellar #till the wheels fall off #life the universe and everything

[dearjewels22]

I’m just tryna make it through the day. Ain’t thinking bout tomorrow. As I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep… Cuz it’s darkness all around me.

-CB 🐐

#mental heath awareness #lyrics #life #quotes #music #chris brown #breezy #team breezy #darkness #day by day #as I lay me down to sleep #pray about it #feelings #pray through it #till the wheels fall off #ride or die #songs #music is therapy #music is life #thoughts #anxiety

[hysterekbuddiez]

Idk … I’m on this Buddie train until forever … I can’t forget all the moments they’ve shared thru the seasons for whatever is happening with Mr. Right Now. I won’t be a prisoner of the moment! Lol

#Buddie4Lyfe

#buddie #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #eddie loves buck to the core #on this train till the wheels fall off

[nudystar]

the tokyo revengers era was time but now long forgotten sigh

#most of yall know this already #but I was knee deep in that animanga #it was me and kazutora till the wheels fall off 🤞🏽 #( 🧚🏽‍♀️ ) — mia on her bullshit !

[joansblondells]

hellcheer + textposts (pt 1/?)

#hellcheer #eddissy #long post #is this still a thing do the kids still enjoy textposts #idk dolls but i do #you make 1 of these and are gone for life it’s an addiction #ugly boyfriend one inspired the whole post tbh #defo more incoming #sorry jason we r flattening your character into a one dimensional cuck villain again babe 💔 #I will ride their 5 minutes of screentime till the wheels fall off do not test me !!!! #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #hc tp #💘 #op

[heavyhitterheaux]

This is the first time all season that I've actually gotten to watch Joe play and I'm HYPEEEE

#i'm either working or it's not playing on any channel in my area #i'm a ravens girl till the wheels fall off but love me some joe burrow

[megamindsecretlair]

Will you stay on tumblr with your writing still?

Yes, I will! I'm not going anywhere, I just got back to Tumblr 🤣

AI is the devil 🙄 once I learn how to drop these on A03, thats also where you'll be able to find them!

Thank you so much for reading my little writings 😍😍

#megaminds asks #sweet anon #I aint going nowhere #ima be right here till the wheels fall off #im just old and need to learn a03

[radroller]

Hey guys, i just wanna remind you that im on discord! If any of y’all wanna stay in touch please feel free to add me!

#im gonna be here till the wheels fall off #but i dont wanna lose touch with anyone

[rebelwrites]

Two: Welcome To Charming

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The wheels Fall Off Master List

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Charles could have strangled his best friend as he was still pissed off at the fact he had been demoted to passenger princess. They had been on the road for what felt like an eternity and he swore he could see some gray hairs forming in the mirror from Pierre’s driving. Right now? You wouldn’t have known he was a Formula One Driver. Somehow, he managed to hit every single pot hole on the road and at one point Charles thought they were going to drive straight into a large tree but no matter how much Charles protested Pierre would not let him take over.

“You do know we are in the middle of nowhere right?” the Monégasque huffed, checking his phone to see that the signal was practically non-existent.

“Yep,” Pierre smirked, refusing to take his eyes off the road, “you need a break from reality and where better to recharge than somewhere away from everything? And, if we are lucky, no one will even care who we are.”

Charles rolled his eyes at the comment, but deep down he knew his best friend was right. Over the last few weeks he had fans turning up at his home address, which was a step too far. Charles didn’t mind stopping in the street to take pictures and sign things, but showing up at his home was damn right disrespectful.

This season had been a write off to say the least. Starting with two DNFs was not what anyone had planned, so the young driver found himself snapping at people he cared about because of the performance stress that he quickly found himself under.

“Four weeks in the woods, lucky me,” Charles scoffed, running his hand over his face. Staring out of the window, he watched as they drove through the town. He couldn’t help but laugh as the bright red Purosangue was drawing the attention of everyone they passed. Maybe taking the Ferrari suv wasn’t the smartest idea his best friend had ever had.

“Still think this is the perfect car to keep a low profile?” Charles asked in amusement. “Nous ne sommes pas à Monaco maintenant Pierre. We are not in Monaco now, Pierre.”

“Okay, this wasn’t my best idea,” Pierre huffed, admitting Charles was right once again.

They both just hoped that things would be calm once they checked into the lodge, even though they couldn’t check in until later that afternoon.

Their trip could only go one of two ways; complete shit or amazing and just what they both needed. Charles silently prayed that this break was exactly what he needed to relax and recharge for the rest of the season. The last thing he wanted was to be hounded by fans with every step he made. Normally he would have spent the summer break with his mum, two brothers and their partners but for some reason something told him to agree to going to California with his best friend. He couldn’t figure out why he had such a strong pull to the small town he had never heard of, but it was as if his heart was guiding his decisions.

Letting out a long breath he rested his head against the window of the car, dropping his gaze to the phone that had been disregarded in his lap, thankful that the phone signal and data connection had started to pick up the further they drove into town. At least he wasn’t fully cut off from the world.

They were surrounded by a vast amount of trees varying in shapes, sizes, and colors. The welcome sign that sat at the side of the road was surrounded by perfectly kept rose bushes, the bright paint standing out against the shades of light pink and green. It was obvious to him that this town took pride in their appearance to the outside world, but it was the name that made Charles smile.

Welcome to Charming.

Once again, there was the pull he felt when first deciding to go on this trip. It was bugging him because he had never been to this small town before but it was like he had a connection to it in a past life. The moment they crossed the town line his body instantly relaxed, there was no other way to describe the feeling other than being at home.

As they continued on the road, Charles noticed that all of the buildings had a similar look to them. Each one was a different color with perfectly maintained flower boxes hanging from each window all bursting with a contrasting color of plants. The whole place looked like a toddler had been let loose with tins of paint.

He turned his gaze to the side, noting that the vast forest was now in the rear view, once again everything felt familiar to him, like he had been to this place in a dream. He was going to say something to Pierre but chose to bite his tongue instead, knowing his best friend would rip the shit out of him for saying something so ridiculous. On their right there was a large lake that housed way too many boats for either of them to count, along with a mini golf course at the water's edge. This was like a place you would only find in books.

“So does everything around here revolve around that lake?” Charles asked, quickly glancing over at Pierre who just shrugged.

“How am I meant to know?” he laughed.

“Well, you did book this trip mate,” Charles said, rolling his eyes at the Frenchman.

“Spose you do have a point there,” Pierre hummed, dropping his gaze to his phone checking he was still on the right road as the sat nav had suddenly gone quiet. Charles turned his attention back to their surroundings, from first glance he could tell this was going to be a tight knit community, due to how he watched people in the street greeting each other like life long friends and to be honest they probably were. “I believe there is also a dirt bike track and a karting track,” Pierre smiled, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel, “from what I’ve heard this town is usually booming at the height of summer. I’m sure we will find plenty to do and plus there’s a beach not too far from here.”

“So if this place is ‘booming’ in summer, why did you think it would be the best place for a quiet get away?” He laughed, cocking his brow at his best friend.

Right now the town seemed like it was only full of locals but if during the height of summer this was a popular tourist attraction it would mean neither of them would get a moment's peace and they might have well stayed in Monaco.

He didn’t miss the eye roll from Pierre. “I checked online and it looked like they have had quite a few storms recently which has caused the town to be pretty quiet. Normally the place is packed come the start of June,” Pierre nodded as they turned into the car park to a quaint bar.

“If we get mobbed by fans I am coming for you!” Charles half smiled but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this break wasn’t going to go how Pierre envisioned it.

“I’d like to see you try, Leclerc,” Pierre chuckled as he turned off the main road onto a short dirt track.

Charles quickly forgot about the conversation as Pierre quickly backed into a parking space. “Are we here?” he hummed, praying the answer was yes, he had spent far too long cooped up in the vehicle. His attention was consumed by the building in front of them. It was completely different to the rest of the places they had not long driven by. It was perfectly maintained and the flower boxes on the windows were in full bloom. All of the other buildings on the main street were brightly coloured, but this place looked edgy with a charcoal matte paint causing the bright flowers and neon signs to stand out against the darkness of the walls. Despite all of that it had a family feeling to it, and judging by how many cars that were parked in the gravel parking lot this place was pretty popular.

The bright red neon sign hanging on the side of the wall mesmerized Charles, he had no idea why and in the end he just put it down to being tired from traveling all day. His mind started to wander, thoughts of living in a small town filled his head.

“Let’s hope they serve food, I’m starving,” Pierre hummed, killing the engine.

Without saying a word, Charles jumped out of the car, pulling his arms behind his head letting his aching body stretch out from hours of being confined to the passenger seat. He was used to spending hours in the F1 car but traveling always messed him up.

Feeling Pierre slap him on the back, he took that as the cue to start moving. The moment they entered the bar he felt like everyone had their eyes on them, it made Charles feel like this was going to be the worst idea his best friend ever had.

His mind was already spinning, but as he stood there he heard the familiar voice of Crofty commentating coming from the TV above the bar. His stomach twisted into a tight knot, not only were people staring at them but his maiden win at Monza was playing on a large screen situated over the bar. His heart dropped, out of all the places Pierre could pick in this town, he drove them to a bar that was full of race fans. It was only a couple of seconds before everyone turned back to what they were doing without so much as a murmur but to Charles it felt like an entire lifetime had passed as he waited for the look of recognition, expecting his name to echo amongst the patrons, but he got…nothing.

With a breath of relief, he followed his best friend through the room, letting his eyes dart around taking everything in. The first thing that caught his eye was the older guy sitting in the corner, animatedly watching the 2019 race. The man had his gaze glued onto the TV until a young girl clambered up onto his knee, their exchange drifting over the sound of the commentary.

“Nova, are you going to watch the race with me, sweetheart?”

“Poppy, I’m Elenor, silly,” the young girl said, reaching up resting her tiny hand on his cheek. With her gentle correction, he felt intrusive listening in so he turned his attention to the bar. Sliding onto the stool, he took note of all the photos scattered around the bottles on the shelves, whilst waiting for the guy behind the bar to finish what he was doing.

From the look of the outside Charles thought the interior of the bar would be more like a dive bar but he was pleasantly surprised. The place had a cozy yet energetic feeling to it, the walls were covered with family photos, around the whole place there were fairy lights setting the mood and the Harley Davidson decor created a unique contrast. The walls were clad with wood which were paired with deep red booths that were along the back edge of the room and the fairy and neon lights provided a very cozy rustic feel to the place.

It felt like they had stepped into a completely different building, the inside seems a lot bigger than the outside, square tables were scattered around with worn leather chairs surrounding them. For some reason the look of the old leath brought a small smile to Charles’ face.

“What can I get for you lads?” The bartender asked, his thick Scottish accent taking them by surprise.

“Just two beers please man,” Charles nodded, “and do you guys serve food?”

“Aye, gimme two secs and I will get you the menu,” he hummed as he grabbed two bottles from the fridge behind him, “you lads in town long?”

Charles quickly glanced at Pierre before turning back to the bartender, “how do you know we are from out of town?” he asked but instantly regretted asking the question when he quickly realized that the guy sounded completely different to him and Pierre and from some of the conversations that were happening around the boys. The guy didn’t say anything instead shot him an amused look whilst raising his brow at the two boys.

The look made him realize that this was going to be a long month, not only was there amusement written all over his face but it was one that tol Charles he knew exactly who they were. In that moment Charles knew they wouldn't go as unnoticed as they had anticipated. All he wanted was for them to be treated like any other patron and maybe if that happened they could get through the summer break without any major trouble.

“Four weeks,” Pierre chuckled, taking his beer with a smile, “just waiting to be able to check into the lodge.”

The guy had a knowing smirk on his face, like he knew who they were. Charles couldn’t be one hundred percent certain but that was confirmed to him with the next sentence that came from the bartender’s lips, “enjoying the summer break, eh?” he smiled at them both.

“It’s only just started,” Pierre laughed, raising his beer bottle slightly, “but we’re hoping for a nice quiet time, from what I’ve heard this is the best place to relax and recharge”

Out of the corner of Charles’ eye he spotted a photo behind the bar, instantly he couldn’t help but smile. The photo was of a small girl in the arms of what he presumed was her mother. Both of them were wearing Ferrari shirts and hats whilst standing on a track. At this point he had started to come to terms with everyone more than likely knew who they were, especially with the race playing on the TV and photo he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Worry started to settle in but the one thing that calmed him down was the face no one had approached them yet. In fact apart from the bartender they had been pretty much ignored, so maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he first anticipated.

Just as the bartender passed them the menus for the food, the doors to the bar swung open, slamming against the wall causing the guy behind the bar to scoff.

“He can see the celebrations starting. He’s got one more corner, the famous parabolica to go. Mercedes threw everything at him today, Charles Leclerc has coped brilliantly!” a female voice shouted across the bar causing both Charles and Pierre to spin around on the stool to see what was happening. He felt his heart rate increase, feeling panic wash over him at the fact someone had just entered the bar reciting Cofty’s commentary word for word.

He focused his gaze on the two people that just walked in were covered in mud without a care in the world. “He won in Spa, he wins in Monza!” she continued, throwing her arms in the air whilst quoting the commentary perfectly in time with the TV as she turned to face the guy she walked in with. “Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2019 Italian Grand Prix.”

Turning to Pierre, Charles shot him a look letting him know that they weren’t going to keep a low profile.

“That’s it, get mud all over the floor!” the barman huffed at the women with a grin on his face.

“It’s just a bit of mud, get a prospect to mop, Chibs,” the woman said with sass dripping from her words, never turning around as she spoke but Charles could hear the smirk in her voice.

Out of nowhere the small girl that was sitting in the corner booth came running over to the pair standing in the doorway. The woman who was quoting the commentary caught the small girl just in time. “Well she is definitely not afraid of mud,” she laughed, looking over her shoulder to the blonde guy behind her, before she dropped her gaze to the young girl in her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before speaking to her. “Come on then you little monster, let’s go get you changed, Auntie Nova needs a shower.”

He quickly realized that these were the two people in the photo behind the bar, he automatically assumed they were mother and daughter but the moment the little girl called her Auntie he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

He found himself sitting there sipping the bottle of beer feeling extremely confused as to why he would feel such an emotion over a woman he had never met before but in the same way he felt like he had met this woman before.

It was official he was starting to lose it, maybe the first half of the season had taken more of a toll on him than he first thought. First the feeling he got when they arrived in town and now towards the women covered head to toe in mud. But for whatever reason he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the pair, watching them interacting like they didn’t have a care in the world. The moment the woman smeared a little mud on the little girl’s nose the bar was filled with the sound of the most adorable giggles Charles had ever heard.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @celestialams @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x oc #Charles Leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc imagine #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller x reader #Jax teller x sister #Jax teller x sister oc #jax teller imagine #till the wheels fall off

[thebrightpreciousthings]

The things I’m seeing about “Miss Scarlet and the Duke” season three are making me nervous so I need a Good Samaritan whose seen it to let me know what sort of pain I’m in for

#i don’t care about spoilers I’m going crazy here #I’m team williza till the wheels fall off but I’m scared y’all 🫣 #miss scarlet and the duke

[kylewalker-peters]

Also bissouma potentially being out for the rest of the season and our beloved frube not back till November at the latest. I can only imagine Ryan and Hugo will never reappear from the depths of the spurs medical room either so we are close to having a barely functioning midfield and 2 old as fuck men in key areas of the pitch. And also dier is still here

#like if 1 midfielder dies we are left with 2 players just running till the wheels fall off for the rest of the season #or from dier being in midfield if 2 get injured

[monsterparade]

I like how I got halfway through moving myself over to new social media accounts and then my brain battery ran out so now I'm half on my old Cursed accounts and half on my new Fresh ones :')

#not including here i'm gonna ride on this account till the wheels fall off #but abusive family members keep finding and cyberstalking all my other shit so i'm trying to get them off my trail #but now i'm stuck in the liminal space between all my accounts this is the worst lmao #mumblings of a beastie

[natalieironside]

Not deleting or anything like that btw. Gonna keep driving this thing till the wheels fall off.

[sjyuns]

HEAVENLY ┆ A PARK SUNGHOON ONESHOT

SYNOPSIS! park sunghoon has put a curse on you after smashing you heart into a million pieces — that you’d never be able to find anyone comparable to him. and now he’s back, cocky and flirty as ever to prove that he’s the only one you’d ever need.

GENRE! playboy! sunghoon x fem reader, kiss his face with an uppercut romance, exes to lovers, fake dating, mutual pining, fluff, angst

CAUTION! cursing, party, attempt of writing heartbreak angst, slightly toxic (?) behaviour, make out scenes, cheating allegations, sunghoon douchebag, sunghoon has major confrontation issues, smoking

WORDCOUNT! 9.5k

MIKAELA’S! IM BACK, he’s back. playboy hoon! finally writing after like three months, it’s not the best so please forgive me. written to CIGARETTES AFTER SEX’s discography. feedback and reblog are appreciated! NOT PROOFREAD

TEASER SERIES MASTERLIST

WHERE IT’S SO SWEET AND HEAVENLY

THE VERY definition of sin and salvation, Park Sunghoon brings out the best of you in the worst ways. The first, your first — your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first love.

He pulls you in and invades your senses, every careless whisper, every note passed in class, every make out session in dim empty classrooms, Sunghoon makes you yearn for him and you would be able to tell him apart from everyone else by touch and smell alone.

You still remember the summer two years ago, when you sat in the passenger seat of his convertible, wind in your hair as you had the greatest time in your life.

“Frozen?” You say as the radio in his car starts blasting ‘let it go’, and Sunghoon looks over to you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Why not?” He says, one hand on the steering wheel and the other moving to brush a strand of your hair back, “Elsa and Anna are pretty cool.” He holds your hand, thumb caressing the smooth skin of yours as he watches you throw your head back, laughter ringing through the air at his words.

“They are,” you agree with a giggle before your other hand fists to your lips as a microphone. And you sing with him, at the top of your lungs. That summer, in his passenger seat, you fell irrationally and irrevocably in love.

He looks at you, trying to catch his breath, and he adores — the way your lips curve up into the prettiest smile, the way you radiate warmth, and the way you’re you, intoxicating, captivating, and all together godly.

And he kisses you like his life depends on it. It’s soft, hot, desperate, and tender all at once. Your lips smooth, falling open at the brush of his tongue and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, teeth tugging at your lips, fingers twined into your hair before he breaks it only to barely press his lips onto your again, shifting from the corner of your lips to the centre, and then to the rest of your face, tiny pecks everywhere, as if he was worshipping you.

“Let’s do this again when we’re eighty,” he whispers, eyes locked onto you and forehead pressed against yours.

“You really think we’d make it till eighty?” You ask, and Sunghoon wears that infamous grin of his. A scoff leaves his lips as he replies, “baby we’d still be together even if you’re in heaven and I’m stuck in hell.”

“You don’t think we’d ever break up?” You question, and he chuckles at your innocence. Him? Breaking up with you? And he wonders if you realise the way he looks at you, how he kisses you like your lips are heaven.

“No way, princess,” he murmurs, bending over to place a ghost of a kiss on your lips, “I could be clinically insane or have the worst memory lost but I’d never forget how in love with you I am.”

How stupid you were to indulge in such empty promises. You should have known, been more aware that you could never change him — his habit of losing feelings fast.

How quickly he threw away a year of memories, how he kissed it off you and how you couldn’t help but comply, tears rolling down your cheeks. And you hated the way his face flashed a glimpse of regret — as if he was sorry he got caught.

“She pushed herself on me, love. As soon as she heard footsteps approaching.” Sunghoon pleaded, and you truly wanted to believe him. The way his hair was unusually dishevelled, his eyes full of pain. Yet all you could envision when you saw him was the picture of his body against one that was not yours, looking at her the way he looked at you.

“I really can’t handle this right now Sunghoon,” you cry, twisting your wrist out of his hold. Sunghoon feels his heart crush — he hears it. It chips off piece by piece as he watches you crumble to the ground, hands over your face and he wants to go over to console you yet his feet are glued to the ground.

“I swear,” he whispers, soft yet it shakes both hearts in the room, “you and me.”

Your head hurts and nothing matches up. Maybe you’re a coward for not choosing to fight or maybe you’re just too tired. “I can’t,” your voice cracking uglily, “I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“I love you,” you say, vision stuck on the floorboards, too scared to look at Sunghoon’s expression — was it pain like yours was, or was it joy and excitement at breaking yet another girl’s heart, “so much Hoon,” you manage to croak out.

“And I’d always trust you, but I need some time to process this, alone.”

That was the breaking point, when his heart shattered into small sharp shards of fragile vulnerability. It just seemed like yesterday when the both of you laid side by side and swore your forevers. He was never one for love and romance but now he gets it.

There wasn’t any point living if it’s not with you.

And he blames himself — his previous actions and deeds that cursed him for life, the karma that haunted him for his unrighteousness. Maybe he does deserve it, he thinks, if this was what every other girl felt like when he had broken things up with them.

“Please,” he muttered, eyes red and tears running down. Sunghoon doesn’t know who he’s talking to anymore; if he was begging you to stay by his side or begging himself to stop inflicting pain on your precious heart.

“Not now,” your chest squeezes and your rib cage traps your ferociously beating heart to hold it in its place as you make a rash decision, “I don’t want to see you.”

Sunghoon thinks he could’ve turned into a grotesque monster the way you shunned him out. All bloody and contorted, far away from the charm he once used to hold. And he wants to disagree, yet he murmurs the heavy words of agreement.

You only hear the shuffling of feet — one that you can recognise from miles away, before the door clicks close and your throat burns from the loud sobs emitted from your heart.

As much as you wanted to indulge in such a cliche that you could be the one person who changed his way, this was sadly reality. That Park Sunghoon never belonged to you the way you belonged to him.

He’d always be wanted everywhere he went, and you don’t know if you’d ever be able to handle that.

ONE YEAR LATER

You’re kissing a boy whose name you don’t remember. Is it Park Jaemin or Park Jaeon? Is his surname even Park? Eyes closed and lips on lips, and it isn’t very polite of you to rate a boy’s kiss, but it’s all you can do to satisfy your boredom as his teeth carelessly bites down on your tongue. Fucking hell, you think, as you break the kiss only to meet the boy’s apologetic expression, it’s a two out of ten.

Dreading to tell your friends about yet another terribly gone blind date, you force a tight lipped smile as you wave goodbye to the boy whose cheeks are flushed red. As cute as he looked, you wished you would never see him again.

“God, why are men like this,” you complain right as you open the doors to your dorm room. Karina, your dorm mate and self proclaimed best friend sits up on her bed, patting the spot next to her in eagerness, ready to listen to yet another night of whining.

“It can’t be as bad as the lifeguard guy,” she says, tilting her head to examine your fatigued expression, “how was the kiss this time round?”

You don’t even bother saying it out, you didn’t even want to think about it again. Simply raising two fingers up at her, your back hits the soft cushion of Karina’s bed, a loud sigh leaving your lips.

“Still not comparable to,” she pauses, looking at you warily before continuing, “him?”

Him. God, it’s insane that he’s still stuck in your mind a year after he mercilessly stepped on your heart. You stay silent, and that’s all it takes for your dorm mate to flop down beside you, a big sigh leaving her lips as well.

You’re over him. You’re over Park Sunghoon. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself. But despite days and nights of going out again and again with different boys to forget about him, changing habits and sleep schedules to leave memories with him behind, deep inside your heart you know that you’ll never get over Park Sunghoon.

He’s the reason why any blind date your parents set you up with doesn’t go smoothly. You’re picky, and you can’t seem to find a boy comparable to him. And you fault Sunghoon for making you like this — overly obsessed with the composition of people.

Like every boring blind date starts, the boy picks you up, drives you to your favourite restaurant and asks you the same questions, “what do you study?”, “how are you liking school?”, and oftentimes questions of more substance like, “how was your day today?” At least with those kinds of questions your answer could vary.

And everytime you get asked such questions you can’t help but remember him. Park Sunghoon, who told you that he practised knotting his tie an hour a day to prepare for your very first date together. How he likes KitKats so much but he’s boycotting Nestle so he doesn’t buy them, and how he absolutely hates the taste of coffee, but drinks it to look cool.

Your eyes start to burn slightly, and you squeeze them shut, trying to stop the collecting tears from trailing down the apples of your cheeks. You hate Sunghoon, you despise him so much you wish you could punch him and his god awful handsome face a couple times. Why, you wonder, why did he have to be such a good boyfriend? Maybe if he wasn’t you’d be content with a boy who wasn’t experienced in kissing, maybe you’d be fine with a boy who asks you how your day went just for the sake of asking.

And it doesn’t help that you’ve grown the exact same habit as him, that you had to restrain yourself from telling every single boy you sit across the table from small details about you like you used to tell Sunghoon.

Hands moving to furiously wipe the tears streaming down your face, you open your eyes to see Karina, who looks at you with sympathy. It’s become too common of an occurrence, and she hates that she can’t do anything about it other than offer you comfort.

“He was a good boyfriend, but there are better out there,” she says this time round, moving over to lay beside you. There are better boys out there, everyone is better than a boy who broke your heart. But he’s the one you want. Park Sunghoon.

No words are exchanged but a tight hug before you shuffle back to your bed. Your nighttime routine begins as your head hits the pillow and you start thinking about Sunghoon. You always think about Sunghoon before you fall asleep, you did since the very first time you met him, and you do now. The words he said, the way he looked. The inside jokes you had, the silent moments you shared. And if you ever dream, you dream about him. Because it’s Sunghoon, and everything in your life seemed to revolve around him.

It’s strange, how the moments the both of you shared felt like forever. Until suddenly you’re nineteen, and he’s halfway across the world. The earth becomes an hourglass, and you’re watching the sand pile up at the wrong end. And you’re thinking about how when you first met him, when you dated him, and when you were just beside him. Then your heart was like a kick drum at a rock show. But now, it is merely a ticking bomb of pain and anguish.

The arrogance and beautiful glory that shined with him — and you can still never forget the time it blinded you. How you were supposed to be the main character yet all you could focus on was the godly playboy who stole your firsts.

“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” Sunghoon mumbled, and he was so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

He held your gaze confidently, with a tinge of arrogance as his tongue darted out to lick his lip. You remember thinking that Sunghoon was the most annoying person in the world, because how could he have looked so devilishly handsome and have such an intoxicating effect on you.

It all started when he showed up unannounced and uninvited to your birthday party — still in his school uniform, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up with his blazer hanging over his shoulder.

And you should have known better than to let him charm his way into your house. “What are you doing here, Hoon?”

Sunghoon loved the way his nickname rolled off the tip of your tongue, so addictive that he wanted to record it — to play it again and again, even if your tone was one of spite.

“Happy birthday princess,” Sunghoon completely ignored your words, taking steps closer towards you, “now, where’s my birthday kiss?”

He’s at it again, aimlessly flirting with you. You rolled your eyes, a deep sigh exiting your mouth, “it’s my birthday, Hoon.” How did he even know where you lived? You were sure you told everyone you invited not to bring him along.

“So I’ll give you a birthday kiss,” he grins, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches your facial expressions fall, ears burning red as you quickly turn around.

You hated Park Sunghoon and the unimaginable hold he had on you. “I’m going to find my mother. Do not, I swear to god, cause any trouble.”

“Your mother? It’s a little early in the relationship,” he moved swiftly to your side, arms casually slinging over your shoulder as he pulled you closer into him forcefully. “But it’s okay, I’m ready.”

Where in the world did Sunghoon get his cocky attitude from, you think as you try your best to pry and lift his arm away from your shoulder. Despite your surface indifference towards his advances, there were millions of butterflies invading your stomach at his every single action.

Before you can even try to escape, a voice calls your name and you stop to talk to Yunjin. “Park Sunghoon? What are you doing here?”

Sunghoon steals a glance at you, and he thought you looked absolutely adorable as you pouted at the image of multiple people seeing you with him; given how you always seemed to have complaints about his overly flirty nature and playboy ways.

But Sunghoon hadn’t fooled around since you transferred into Decelis two months ago, a personal record for him. At first all you were was a form of entertainment, someone who had cute reactions to his smooth pick up lines.

Then it all came crashing down, when he started to feel the need to bicker with you everyday and mess up your hair every time he saw you in the hallways. And somewhere in between the blurred lines, he fell in love.

“Here to celebrate my girl’s birthday,” he cocks his head towards you, who’s palms now cover your face in sheer embarrassment. God, now it’s going to spread like wildfire. His girl?

Yunjin’s eyes widen and jaw drops, “really? You guys are together? But I thought you were with Choi Soobin.” She asked, nudging you.

Sunghoon frowns at her words. Choi Soobin? Since when? Sunghoon literally followed you around school whenever he saw you, and he’s never seen you ever talk to that boy.

“Soobin and I are just friends,” you clarify, “also we are not a couple,” your finger gesturing to you and Sunghoon as you answer the girl.

“We’ll be one by tomorrow,” Sunghoon cuts back into the conversation, voice loud, and he catches your surprised expression as he smirks slyly.

Though he continues the conversation without a single stutter or break, Sunghoon’s feeling utterly disgusted. Is that the kind of boy you like? Nerdy losers who can’t do anything for the life of themselves? He doesn’t really like the thought of turning into those types of boys, but whatever you want, he thinks — he’s already practised abstinence for you, he might as well go all the way.

At the same time Sunghoon wonders if you’re really that oblivious to his obvious advancements towards you. He’s made it crystal clear: dumped his girlfriend, followed you around, talked about you literally all the time, and yet you’re still clueless.

And he whisks you away before you find the chance to clarify his words again. He’s determined this time round, to make it extremely straightforward for you.

“Hoon why in the world would you say stuff like that,” you groaned, hands slapping his chest. And he grins like an idiot at your touch, if this was what it took for you to initiate skinship with him, he’d be more than willing to proclaim himself as your boyfriend any day.

He placed a hand on the place you’d just hit, “it’s painful,” he pouted, and you almost feel a little guilty at your harsh actions, “can you kiss it better?”

Until that. You huffed, “I'm leaving,” you announced as you turned away, ready to walk right back into the crowd. Sunghoon quickly clasped his fingers around your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

Your eyes become those of a deer caught in headlights as your body is pressed firmly against his, his arms finding their way to your waist; a gentle but firm hold as he bent down.

“Wasn’t done yet, princess,” he smirked, and you feel some sort of danger looming over because Sunghoon looks like a devil enticing you to commit sin. His black hair styles perfectly like always and his red tie, due to his excessive movements, is now dropping down even more to expose his honey skinned collarbones.

The most you can muster is a mumble, “what,” and your eyes are glassy as you stare up at him, he thinks he might go insane — to just move in to place a kiss on your invitingly soft lips.

“I’d kiss you but your boyfriend’s watching,” and he literally spat the term out, unable to believe he’s labelling someone else other than him ‘your boyfriend’. He knew you guys weren’t together, but just for the comfort of his heart he had to hear it again.

It took you a while to process his words. “He’s not my boyfriend, Hoon,” and it’s that short statement coupled with the way you said his name that really did it for him.

Sunghoon moves in just as you finish your sentence, and he sinks into your pillowy lips. It’s paradise on earth and he thinks he will never be able to get enough of this feeling.

“Sunghoon,” you mumbled when he broke the kiss, slightly out of breath as you looked up with hazy eyes.

He chuckled, “sorry, baby, my bad. I’ll return your kiss back,” and Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate to give you another kiss, fingers caressing your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

This time it’s you who breaks the kiss, way too out of breath to even form full sentences without a few breaks in between. “You just kissed me.”

“Right, I just did that baby,” he smiles, those tiny fangs of his showcased as he gazes adoringly at you. “Actually, I’m looking for a girlfriend.” He pauses, eyeing your flushed cheeks and pink lips, “Are you looking for a boyfriend by any chance, princess?”

Now that you’re literally glued onto Sunghoon, you take the chance to look at him. Sharp nose, pretty moles that you could probably trace along all day, and his eyes which contrasting to his calm demeanour, held anxiousness as he waited for you to answer.

You’ve thought about dating Sunghoon before. Multiple times. Way more than you should’ve. And you never wanted to ever confess to it, because he was everyone’s crush. And not only that, he was annoying — constantly teasing you and making you flustered by his actions. You’d curse every time your heartbeat started to accelerate at his flirty words. You had thought that there was no way he’d ever like you back.

“I’m looking for a boyfriend,” you admit, letting out a soft giggle at Sunghoon’s overjoyed expression. And you decide that maybe now’s the time to get back at him, tease him a little to get him to stay on his toes, “maybe I should go find Soobin.”

His shoulders downturn almost immediately and his arms wrap around your waist securely, chin resting on the top of your head. “No fucking way,” he grumbles, “you’re my girlfriend now. And I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, you are,” you say, voice muffled in the embrace of Sunghoon. And you hear him giggle slightly, the rumble of his chest exposing the boyish feelings your boyfriend was currently going through, “for now.”

Sunghoon lifted his chin from your head, fingers brushing over your cheeks before they landed themselves on your jaw. He tilts your chin up, “too bad my intention is forever.” And he placed chaste kisses on your lips again and again.

What a joke. What a liar, you think as you feel the cords of your heart tug at the memory. He haunts you and you wish you were here with him in his arms, fresh perfumed scent from Tamburins that he always used wafting into your senses, intoxicating you, consuming you.

Sticky cheeks and bloodshot eyes adorn your face as Karina shakes you incessantly, bringing you back to reality. “What,” you groan. You weren’t in the mood for whatever gossip she had to tell you — Sunghoon consumed your mind in ways that made it ache; you barely have space for any other thoughts.

She thrusts the phone into your face, the blaring screen making you squint as you recognise the familiar school news forum website. The big bold title of the post names ‘guys help me find this guy i saw on campus in omfg’ along with a picture attached.

You’re left speechless as a wave of emotions hits you and you feel like you’re drowning. This is not a dream, it’s real. And you don’t know if this was the universe’s way of pushing you to get over him or if you’d just managed to anger the world with your incessant wailing about the boy.

Because Park Sunghoon is back and he’s looking ten times hotter than you’d remembered.

Sunghoon sits with his long legs comfortably spread open and arms resting on the cushions of the couch, as if he was the owner of the house.

“So,” the girl straddled on his lap says, twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes at him, “what’s your favourite fruit then?”

They’ve been at it for minutes that felt like hours and Sunghoon doesn’t think he can withstand the urge to push her off his lap for any longer. Sunghoon grins cockily, “wanna know, babe?”

He watches with dark eyes as the girl, who’s name he can’t seem to remember, nods bashfully. It’s the fifth girl in three days, and Sunghoon’s getting a little tired of the same old expressions to his flirty behaviour.

“Strawberries,” Sunghoon tells her, “I could live on strawberries my whole life.”

“You like them that much, huh?” He almost visibly cringes at the sultry tone of her voice. That’s too much. But he doesn’t say anything, nodding his head at her words. “Why?”

He freezes up for a while. Why? Well, Sunghoon has never had a care for strawberries, but that summer, your lips were so stained with strawberries it was all he could ever taste.

And he remembers how your hands traced the veins of his neck, limbs tangled with his as he kissed your strawberry lips goodnight and good morning.

“Tastes nice,” he shrugs, and the girl moves on to her next question. Sunghoon, however, tunes her out like he had wanted to since she pounced over onto his lap.

He almost curses the girl for asking him such a harmless question, cursing himself for answering it the way he did. Sunghoon doesn’t have a favourite fruit, so why did his thoughts have to travel there, to the back of his mind, where he kept all his memories with you untouched.

Ironically, Park Sunghoon is here to see you. Despite having a girl planted on his lap, he finds his eyes constantly wandering every time people enter the house — it’s an unfamiliar game of waiting, one that Sunghoon’s never played before.

Hell, Sunghoon doesn’t even know if you’re going to come, but he’s bagging on it because he knows your parents wouldn’t let you skip the chance to network with your schoolmates. And now that he’s back as your schoolmate, Sunghoon swears that he wouldn’t miss the chance to ‘network’ with you.

Speaking of the devil, you walk through the door, and Sunghoon is in awe. Pretty little black dress with black heels, and god you still looked the same, maybe even prettier — yeah, definitely more prettier.

And his heart is thumping against his rib cage, nostalgia flushing through him as Sunghoon remembers the very first time he saw you in class after he came late. One look at you and he thinks all his efforts are in vain, Sunghoon wants to touch you, call you pet names and see your cheeks flush his favourite shade of rosy red, but the weight on top of his lap stops him, and he can only watch as you walk into the kitchen without a glance towards the couch.

Then he hears your voice, it's loud and smooth like it was back then, and he remembers because every single time he hears the nickname ‘Hoon’, he hears your voice. And Sunghoon will never forget the sound of your voice calling his name over and over.

“Soobin,” you call out, “Choi Soobin,” and his shoulders drop. Soobin? Out of everyone you could move on with, you got together with him? He’s better, Sunghoon knows he is, and he can’t believe the fact that you would downgrade to a second class nerd.

Sunghoon shifts in his seat, the poor girl on his lap thrown to the side as he attempts to get a view of the open kitchen where you stood alluringly. He disregards the scoff thrown at him from the girl, who walks away with hips swinging.

God it’s that effect again, and without even a look you have him wrapped around your finger unknowingly. Sunghoon suddenly feels the need to kiss you again, and he realises how much he misses you.

How selfish of him though, to crave for you as though you were his to miss at all.

Sunghoon clears his throat, arms folded and muscles bulging, trying to be discreet about the toll you take on his mentality. He’s here and you’re just a walk away — yet why does he feel so undeserving of being next to you.

The past was just a misunderstanding, and he wouldn’t have been at fault if he didn’t just hop on a plane to the other side of the world just as you were ready to talk it out.

But there you are now and he feels as if it’s his final opportunity before you slip through his fingers. Sunghoon wants to call your name, blurt out his feelings and kiss himself better; hell he’d never admit it over his pride but he had been thinking of what to say to you when he would finally see you again.

The lump in his throat’s the size of a cherry pit as he shifts awkwardly, finding himself on the way to the kitchen, on the way to you.

And he hates it — how fidgety you make him feel, how his palms turn sweaty like a teenage boy, how out of character you make him feel.

You’re just another girl now, an ex, a stranger. Sunghoon knows he’s just lying to himself, because you’d never be a stranger to him, not when you’re in everything he sees and does, not when he’s never had the confidence to tell his parents who constantly ask about you that you’re no longer together.

Filtering through the crowded room, he prepares himself, rehearsing the words he’s always wanted to tell you. Yet a flame in his heart burned luminously green at the sight of you laughing, with a boy that wasn’t him, with Choi Soobin.

“New boyfriend already? I see the princess has downgraded from a prince to a knight,” Sunghoon looms over you, a look of distaste all over his face as he looks pointedly over at the other tall boy.

You knew he was here watching, you could feel the gaze of Park Sunghoon from a mile away. And now he’s right behind you, chest pressed against your back as Soobin looks away from you to meet his gaze.

“Sunghoon?” Soobin murmurs in confusion, and Sunghoon smirks, waving him off as a gesture to leave the both of you alone.

That was one thing you’d always hated about Sunghoon, how he used his influence to control everyone around you, as if they were unworthy of your attention.

“Stay Soobin,” you say, before you turn around to meet Sunghoon’s gaze for the first time in a long while. Your heart slams against your chests like fists on a punching bag and feelings overwhelm you. You wouldn’t label yourself as someone emotional yet whenever you’re around Sunghoon you can’t help but drown in your feelings — love, hate, anger, and longing.

Sunghoon shoots you a sharp glare before returning his gaze to Soobin and cocking his head to the side. “I think I should leave,” he mumbles, tripping over his words before he steps out of the kitchen.

And there you find yourself, face excruciatingly close to Park Sunghoon’s as you try to choke down your feelings. He looked a little different, less playful and more mature, yet he still has the same sharp features you loved, and the multiple moles peppered across his face that you used to kiss every night.

“Is this fun for you, Sunghoon?” And he winces at your tone, loaded with disappointment and frustration but he remains quiet, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

You can’t stop yourself from leaning into it, his warmth and familiarity. “Hm?” Sunghoon hums, his voice deeper than it was back then, “I don’t know, is this fun for you, princess?”

You’re taken back to highschool, when Sunghoon would press you up against the cool metal lockers and tell you how pretty you are, like a princess hence the nickname he has for you. Then, you couldn’t control the vibrant red that ruled over your cheeks and ears at the sound of that nickname and now, you still can’t seem to.

“You can’t just barge in here and act like you know me, Park Sunghoon,” you seethed, “like nothing ever happened.”

“I don’t know, princess, maybe you can refresh my memory,” he grins at the way your eyebrows squeeze in irritation, “a kiss for old times sake?”

You place your palms on his chest, using force to push him away yet he doesn’t budge. “Hey sweetheart, I know you’re excited to see me but it’s a little early to be feeling me up don’t you think?”

Immediately retracting your hands, Sunghoon lets out a laugh. It’s just as melodious as you remember and you can’t help but sigh at the familiar feeling of bickering with him. “Get the fuck off me, Park Sunghoon,” you groan.

“Woah, full government name? Baby I thought we were in love.” God, you think, how you wished you could kiss his face with an uppercut. It didn’t help that he was exactly the same as he was before and everything more, because you can feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into him, more than before.

And you hated how he looked so good, like he never ghosted you and gave up on your relationship, like he wasn’t crying constantly over the memories you shared together.

“Why are you back Sunghoon,” you sigh, at least you were prepared — having cried your heart out, panicking over what to do when you’d finally see him with Karina. “Why are you here disturbing me, why can’t you just go find another girl to bother?”

It hurt you to say this, yet the clear image of Sunghoon with other girls was painted clearly in your mind. He was a player, and you felt hopeless trying to change him.

“It’s always been you, love.” He bends closer towards you holding your gaze, “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I wake up in the middle of the night calling out your name.”

“Will you please stop joking around,” you scoff at his unbelievable attempt at wooing you yet your heart pounds against the blooming flowers of your rib cage.

“Who says I’m not being serious,” he says, “besides it’s hard to find another girl to bother when you’re all everyone around me talks about.”

Your heart stops and your stomach dips as though you’ve just tumbled from a great height. It’s the closeness between the both of you that makes your knees weak, and his skin brushing against yours that jolts you like a spray of hot sparks. It’s how he knows exactly what gets to you, even if you’d never meant for him to.

His words pierce your heart, half agony half hope. And maybe if you loved him less you’d be able to bite back.

“We are long over and you know that,” you answer, so softly yet the pain drums against your whole being, “you made sure of that when you left without a word.”

Sunghoon feels constricted, and his shoulders feel the heavy weight of his guilt as he breathes. And since a few months ago, he’s always thought that the wound from your relationship had festered yet here, right in front of you, it still bleeds fresh.

“We never officially broke up,” Sunghoon points out. And he feels like such a desperate douchebag hanging onto the thinnest thread that could snap at any given second.

You scoff as you feel annoyance rise up in you, “you’d think that leaving your girlfriend to live across the world at the lowest point of your relationship literally shouts break up in every single angle.”

Sunghoon, for once, doesn’t have a cocky comeback to your words as they fizzle down his throat in silence. He opens his mouth yet bites back his tongue, guilt ridden.

You look at him, begging for an explanation that never seemed to come, “forget it, I’m an idiot for thinking that you’d ever waste your breath explaining yourse-”

“I get it, you hate me,” he groans, cutting you off as you fidget awkwardly at his words. No one could ever hate Park Sunghoon, even you — especially you. He sucks in a breath, ready to embarrass himself, bracing himself for rejection.

He can’t let you go like this, not when your heart blackens at the sight of him, not when he’s still madly in love with you.

So he does what he does best, he plays. And this time, it’s a game that he needs to win.

Park Sunghoon has a way with words, or maybe that’s just his charm — where every sentence and every word entrances, putting you in a state where you can’t seem to do anything but oblige to his commands.

You stand in one of your favourite dresses at the entrance of the restaurant, Sunghoon beside you as you try your best not to take a peek at him for the nth time.

You’re not here for him, you’re here for his mother.

At least that’s what you’ve been trying to tell yourself.

And you’ve been dreading it all, the feeling of familiarity — remembering how much you’d loved his parents, how well they treated you, and how you’d always meet up with them with Sunghoon.

Yet here you were again, a year later, trying to convince yourself that this was the closure that you needed to move on. It’s just an hour or two.

“Oh my gosh Sunghoon, you brought her,” a flowery voice cheered as you watched Mrs Park push back her chair to throw her arms around you, “I’ve been asking Sunghoon to set up a date for us to meet for the past year but he always claims you’re busy with Uni. How are you doing?”

You wrap your arms around her, a real smile blooming on your face, “I’ve been coping well, it’s much busier than I could’ve ever imagined. But I’ve never been better.”

Lie, lie, lie. It seemed like that was all you could do around things that surround your ex boyfriend; lying about your feelings, lying to his mother, lying to yourself.

“I can imagine,” she smiles, gesturing to the both of you to sit, “now that Hoon is back, I’m sure he’d look after you well.”

“Not even a hello to your own son and you’re already putting words in my mouth,” Sunghoon complains, rolling his eyes at his mother’s usual antics.

And at times like this he remembers how you’d squeeze his hands, as if warning him to listen to his mother, yet right now his hands lack the warmth yours radiate and he only has himself to blame.

After all he was the one asking you to join him, and he couldn’t have expected you to actually act like you used to. You weren’t his to touch anymore.

“It’s great that you’re back next to him,” Mrs Park comments, completely ignoring her son. “You’re the only one he listens to. He’s changed a lot since he met you.”

You let out a forced laugh, one that goes unnoticed by Mrs Park but not Sunghoon. And he questions if you actually believe his mother’s words.

Sunghoon used to think it was foolish to believe that people could truly change for the better — life was made to be a cycle, and no matter how long summer radiated, winter would still send a chill down your spine. Yet with you his world felt like constant summers in paradise, peace and comfort he hasn’t been able to find anywhere but in your arms that wrapped around his flaws and never let go.

“Barely any parties overseas, always studying,” she points out and you’re shocked at the new revelation you’d just made, “but he’s started smoking, maybe now that you’re back by his side you can fix that up.”

Sunghoon groans, “whatever.” His fingers run through his hair as you finally cave in, taking a glance at him. His sculpted features that followed you to your dreams, the rustic looking leather jacket that hugged his figure perfectly and just everything; from the way he breathes to the way he speaks. He’s everything.

Time ticks away as you find it harder and harder not to hold Sunghoon’s hand like you used to, holding yourself back from purposefully hitting his leg with yours under the table cloth just for the fun of it. And it wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying yourself — it was just how minutes felt like days being so close yet not being able to touch him.

The cold breeze of the night bites your cheeks, turning them a frosty red. You shiver as you blow hot breaths on the palms of your hand, rubbing them to keep warm only to find the weight of a jacket draped over your shoulder.

“I don’t need it,” you say to Sunghoon, without having any intention to give his jacket back, “I’m not that cold.”

“I can hear your teeth chattering from a mile away, princess,” he says, lips twitching.

“Sure,” you comment, “and when you’re cold later on don’t ask for the jacket back.”

Sunghoon lets out a laugh, it’s animated and excited as his head rolls back and his mouth widens. “Don’t worry about me, love, I’ve got it covered.”

Reaching into his pocket, Sunghoon pulls out a box of cigarettes, smoothly lighting one up before he breathes out a cloud of grey smoke. And you can’t help but look.

You hold your breath at the sight — his dark eyes alight under the moonlight and his jaw tilted a few angles up, hair messy from the night’s breeze, and finger clad rings that hold such death.

It makes you scared: scared of the love you have for him. Because it has ruined you once and it will ruin you again, you’d let it ruin you again.

“You shouldn’t smoke, you know,” you start, “it’s bad for your health.”

“You’re bad for my health, sweetheart,” he answers, “yet you seem to be everywhere I am.”

The silence of night engulfs the both of you, and the chatter from the restaurant tunes out as you meet his gaze.

It’s insane, you’re going insane. “You know you can’t just do that,” you say, trying to keep yourself calm.

“Can’t just do what, love?” He hums, smoke wafting around him. And it really should have disgusted you, the way he chose to blacken his own lungs yet it didn’t. It could never.

“That,” you point out, tearing your gaze away from him. “You can’t just return out of nowhere and pretend like everything is fine. Calling me pet names, making me meet your mother because you failed to tell her about our breakup. You can’t just rope me back in after I’ve spent all my time and energy grappling out of the hold you have over me.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you desperately try to blink them away. Your vulnerability on full display for Sunghoon to read — not that he ever needed you to tell him, he could read you like an open book.

“Stop playing with me Sunghoon. I’m not just a toy you can throw around and find when you’re bored.”

Only the soft cackle at the end of Sunghoon’s cigar can be heard as he stills. And he wants to tell you that he loves you, he wants to scream it to the world. You were never a toy to him and he has always been fully devoted to you, like a religion of his.

Sunghoon doesn’t know how to say it, he can’t really put it into words: the feeling he has when he’s around you. He’s addicted to it — the feeling of being alive, like he’s known you for lifetimes after lifetimes, like he’s free.

His proclamation gets stuck in his throat as he fumbles on a thorough response. It’s always been hard for him to show his true feelings, much more to actually say it out loud.

He’s never really been an emotional person, much less a confrontational one. It was why he liked playing around; baseless actions without reason, there wasn’t any need to show his true feelings or even feel much to begin with. He never had to explain himself, not once.

And at times like this when Sunghoon’s utterly scared, he can’t do anything but accept; that maybe you and him were just meant to be a precious memory.

Maybe it was time to let you move on.

Friends with deep history. That’s what Karina decides to title your relationship with Sunghoon. And you’d never thought it’d hurt this much, given you and Sunghoon were never once considered friends.

It’s a whole different type of pain and worry that gnaws at your heart — like an emerald monster of envy as you watch him interact with other girls in ways he once did with you, to hear him call others by pet names like he used to call you.

Sunghoon lets the word ‘babe’ roll off his tongue without a second thought, it’s the only pet name he could ever bear saying without much thought of you.

‘Babe’ was conventional, normal. It was everything you were not.

And he wonders if you realise it, if you pay attention to his every word like he does to yours, if you’d really moved on and accepted the fact that the two of you were friends.

It’s weird, Park Sunghoon has never hated any word more. The sour aftertaste it left on his tongue and the tension surrounding it. Fuck friends, he thinks, it’s only been a week of such an arrangement and he can’t take it any longer.

There’s only been two types of days throughout the week — ones where you’re beside him and he can smell the familiar scent of vanilla and honey and others, where seconds felt like months and minutes felt like years.

This isn’t what he came back for. He didn’t come back just to torture himself with close proximity, he came back to touch you, kiss you, to feel your breath on his lips, to feel your heart beat against his.

It’s been a week since Sunghoon swore to himself that he’d let you move on, give you space, and finally let you go from his grasp. Yet whenever he spots you with another boy that wasn’t him, his being burns.

His heart scalds as if it’s drowning in fiery hot lava. And Sunghoon doesn’t sob or wail, his grief horribly discreet, persistent, and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound. It feels unspeakably lonely, draining and his mind’s a blank state. A sickening wet feeling.

How the memories haunt him everywhere he finds himself to be; your favourite cafe, a poster of the movie you’d made him watch multiple times he could recite half the movie script, the bitter coffee he forces down his throat just to torture himself.

“Because it’s kinda cool,” he remembers telling you, “stuff like coffee runs, or caffeine adrenaline that runs through my veins after the bitter taste coats my tongue.”

The heavenly laugh that you let out, the one that makes him want to keep on loving you. “Caffeine adrenaline, really Hoon?” You said with a grin on your face, “I don’t think there’s such a thing.”

“Yeah there is,” he insists, mirroring the goofy grin plastered on your lips, “and it makes me want to kiss you.”

Now all time does is pass and he finds himself in front of your favourite cafe, wondering if you still order your favourite chocolate pastry and get it all over your lips; if there’s someone else who kisses the stains of chocolate away like he did once.

And he shouldn’t have been surprised to see you there, in your glory, a plate of your favourite chocolate pastry in front of you half eaten.

At least some things don’t change.

He watches you intently, as you take another bite of the chocolaty goodness, nodding inattentively at the words spouted from your company’s mouth.

Sunghoon thinks the boy in front of you is doing it all wrong. If he was in front of you now he would’ve teased you for being a messy eater, bent over the table just to kiss the chocolate away from your lips as you tell him to stop while laughing.

You find your attention dwindling from the boy in front of you. He was good looking, for sure, defined features and a nice smile. But Sunghoon’s more handsome, Sunghoon looks good with and without glasses but the boy in front of you would never be able to pull glasses off.

If Sunghoon was here, he’d have already made me laugh at least thrice, he’d have planted a kiss on my lips, calling me a messy eater, he’d have already changed the topic to keep to your interests.

You look away from the boy, scanning the interior of the familiar cafe, one that was supposed to be your favourite yet you’ve never really thought much about the interior or their food. Everything’s dull and you figure that maybe it’s the company you’re around that matters instead.

The cafe wasn’t your favourite, Sunghoon was. With his witty comebacks and chivalrous smirk, the tall figure and eyes you could stare at for days.

And then you see him, and he’s just there. You don’t know what to think anymore. Just that you’re here and he’s here. That you’re supposed to hate him for leaving yet you can’t find a tinge of hate in your heart. That moving on was clearly for the better but everything’s mundane without him.

Sunghoon’s already looking at you, and when you meet his gaze he lets out a string of curses under his breath. This wasn’t a good idea. You and him in a place scattered everywhere in your memories, just a few steps away yet miles apart at the same time.

He can’t take it any longer. So Sunghoon leaves, fingers clenching the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

You frown at the sight of his back, turning as he left the cafe without a second thought. A sense of déjà vu encompasses you. Is this how it’s always going to be — turning away from each other without a smile, seeing him everywhere yet not being able to talk to him, holding the label of friends but never having a proper conversation?

“Hey, you okay love?” You grimace at the name he calls you, looking back at the boy who did nothing but blabber away all this while.

“Uhm, I think I have to go,” you say, chair pushed back hurriedly as you make your way out without a second thought. Head turning to find a boy in a denim jacket, the boy that held your heart in his hands.

“Sunghoon,” you call once you spot him, puffs of smoke wafting over and around him as he leans gorgeously against a wall. “Is this really how it’s going to be?”

Sunghoon lifts the cigarette between his fingers, cold eyes that once held no emotion seemingly brightening at the sight of you. “What are you doing here princess?” He asks, small puffs of smoke exiting his mouth as he talks, “boy not to your liking? He seemed bland.”

“Why are you doing this Sunghoon,” you say exasperatedly, “why are you everywhere that I am, why do you follow me in everything that I do.”

“Am I distracting you from your dates, love?” Sunghoon laughs, and you’re annoyed at how he dodges your questions perfectly, how he manages to twist everything yet hit the nail on the head.

“You promised me that you’d let me move on,” you pause, catching your breath, “you owe me that. You owe me space.”

“You think it’s that easy to give you up?” Sunghoon’s eyebrows furrow as the cigarette in his finger dims and drops to the ground, “I wasn’t lying when I said that you’re all around me. I can’t even-”

“Then why,” you cut him off, vision already blurry, “why did you leave without a word, why did you leave just when I was ready to talk, why didn’t you answer the thousand messages I left you, why did I have to find out you were gone from someone that wasn’t you. Why?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Sunghoon says shakily.

“You didn’t have a choice?” You scoffed, “I cry myself to sleep wondering who you were talking to instead of me, wondering why you did me so wrong and everything that was wrong with me. I checked my phone, Sunghoon, every fucking ten minutes hoping to see your name on the screen and if it wasn’t I would cry again and again. You always come and go as you please, whatever is convenient for you. I bet you’ve never once thought of my feelings, yet all I could think about was if you were coping well on the other side of the world.”

Sunghoon stands and he marvels, your words striking him like a final knockout blow. And its realisation all over again that he loved you, he loves you, and you still loved him.

He’s always thought you’d hate him for what he’s done, the suffering he’s brought into your life. Being serious never yielded him much results so he kept pretending, passing it over.

“And you think I didn’t,” he wails, and it’s the first time you’ve seen perfection with flaws, “you think I didn’t look at your texts and cry? You think I’ve never had any sleepless nights thinking if texting you back would be the right choice? I thought it would’ve been the best for you, I wouldn’t have been able to treat you the way you would’ve wanted to be treated and I didn’t know how long my father would’ve made me stay there if I didn’t beg to come back.”

“But now that you’re here in front of me, I’ve realised how stupid I must have been to make such a decision. I missed you and I still miss you even when you’re here — and it occurs to me that I’ll probably never move on from you because you’re the first person I’ve ever truly loved unconditionally, the only one that’s ever mattered.”

A strangled sob of tears leaves your throat as you bury your face in his chest, trembling wildly as tears travel down your cheeks. “I hate you,” you croak out, fists clenched, “I hate that I miss you.”

“I missed you everywhere.” He says, fingers running through your hair to your back. And for the first time, Sunghoon lets the pain and ache bleed into his voice.

“Here,” he says and his lips brush against the place your heart beats, “and I’ve missed you here.”

Once Sunghoon kisses you, your heart slows and everything seems so dreamy. How much you needed him terrified you, and you couldn’t imagine that this was what love was like for everyone. Maybe it was just you, just you and Sunghoon. Maybe together you were just a volatile entity that would either implode or melt together, thrilling and exotic, sweet and heavenly.

It’s silent for a minute and you miss his voice again.

After a period of sadness, happiness doesn’t just jump in your life. It grows slowly into the cracks and fissures of you, like small plants that sprout in cracked concrete.

“Can I kiss you, princess?” Sunghoon mutters into your mouth as his arms wrap around your waist. Your arms around his neck as he hoists you up in the waters of his swimming pool.

It’s weird, how it feels like he’s never left. And ever since you’d cried your hearts out in each other's arms, you’ve both been making an effort to communicate with each other.

“You just kissed me, Hoon,” you laugh, water droplets harmonising with the sound of your laughter. And Sunghoon just stares like he did last night and the night before. He isn’t obsessed, yet when your fingers run through his hair he can’t help but think he is.

“I know, but I want to,” he grins, “I want to kiss you again.”

“You don’t have to ask,” you say in slow tenderness. His star mapped skin, cacophony of laughter, and his smile that makes you feel a little less alone — it makes you feel like the sun’s out in the middle of the midnight sky.

“Consent is what hot guys do,” he smirks, and you almost fall back in laughter.

“Really?” You reply, “I don’t see any hot guys around here?”

Sunghoon groans, “I’m right here? You’re saying that as if you don’t want a piece of me.”

You don’t think twice before leaning into Sunghoon, thoughtlessly holding him as you fall in love all over again with all your heart.

“You know who I want a piece of,” you sigh, head buried in the crook of his neck. “This new hot guy in school, everyone’s been raving about him for the past month. Bet he kisses well.”

“Oh,” Sunghoon gasps, “what is his name?” You roll your eyes at his facade of obliviousness.

“I think it’s Park Sunghoon,” your lips raise as you turn to look at him.

“That’s me baby,” he chuckles, “too bad I already have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you frown.

“Yeah, too bad I’m all hers,” he mirrors your frown, “now can my girlfriend allow me to kiss her?”

You giggle, nodding your head before Sunghoon presses his lips on yours. And it’s everything and nothing at once — heartbeats merging as one, heaven’s on your lips and Sunghoon feels the need to repeatedly repent his sins. He wants to touch you until his palms burn.

And unlike the rollercoaster of emotions his heart once felt, it feels calm, it feels as though he’s finally returned home.

© SJYUNS

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