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#and uh. let's say that the year he became our teacher was a delicate one for me
theophagie-remade · 3 years
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I knew the musical already but the cd copies of Notre Dame de Paris I have were given to me by my human sciences teacher during high school so everytime I listen to even just a couple songs in passing I always end up thinking about him
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lovely-ateez · 3 years
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Broken Strings~
ꕥPosted: 7/20/21
ꕥGenre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, College!au, Rockstar!au
ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Yunho
ꕥWord Count: 10k+
ꕥWarnings (please read all!!): Yunho’s ex is an absolute asshat, death threats towards both Yunho and reader, mention of knives used as weapons, San is a bisexual king (happy late pride month), unprotected pool sex/public sex (no one is around but I guess it still counts), masturbation (f), foul language, mentions of alcohol intake, reader is mentioned to have dark brown eyes several times which you can just ignore if you have different colored eyes ofc, mentions of a restraining order against an ex, please let me know if I missed something!!
ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay @nevieatiny 
ꕥA/N: The song lyrics are ones that I wrote myself specifically for this au and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous about posting it. I know there isn’t any tune or anything, but hopefully it sounds like a real song someone might sing. Also I’m not writing angst for a while after this holy shit I’ve been crying too much over this I’m emotional okay
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“Date night! Date night! Date night!” I grabbed my boyfriend’s arm, bouncing on my toes.
Yunho raised a hand to cover his ear, scrunching his face, “Babe, I love you, but I think you’ve deafened me.”
I pouted at his tone and crossed my arms, “You’re such a grump.”
“Oh whatever.” He smiled, “You ready?”
I smiled at him and nodded.
Ever since his band, Sidekick Heart, began to pick up traction, he had less free time and our full-day dates once a week soon became date nights every few weeks. Most of his time was spent writing songs, producing them, and practicing endlessly. The fact that he had a tour coming up soon just meant he had even less spare time. I was happy for him, of course, but I couldn’t hide my disappointment that he was leaving.
In middle school, he and three of his friends formed a band for fun, which they kept with all throughout high school. They got good, really good and almost right after they graduated they were signed by a label. Now, three years later, they’d already released two albums and one EP and earned enough money to make a living, which was why Yunho dropped out of college a month ago. Since he had steady career path, he saw no reason to continue and decided to focus on music. He still visited me at college whenever he got the chance, but his visits were becoming more and more sporadic.
We started dating freshman year of college. We had our difficulties as most couples do, but everyday I thanked the stars for pairing us together. I met him on the first day of French class, a day I know I could never forget, no matter how how our future played out.
I sat my backpack on the table in front of me, looking around the empty classroom. I was ten minutes early, so I wasn’t surprised about the lack of students. It was a bit unlikely for me to be so early, but I wasn’t able to sleep the night before and so I had extra time to get ready. With nothing else to do, I took out my phone, reading some missed text messages.
I heard the door open and my head tilted upwards, meeting eyes with a fluffy-haired brunet. He shyly smiled at me and I returned the gesture. The man took a seat in the front row across from me, only a few chairs in between us. I found it cute that he liked to sit in the front of the classroom, too. Very few people did. He turned away from me to place his backpack on the floor and take out a few books. I took the opportunity to look at him. He was attractive, for sure. His short sleeved solid black shirt followed his movements, tattoos peaking through his top. The shirt itself tucked was into ripped jeans, his black shoes matching the outfit, along with various accoutrements. His look was uncommon for college students, most just wore sweatpants with with a casual shirt. I thanked myself for dressing nice that day.
I tilted my head to get a better look at his side profile. He was so handsome that I seemed to forget I was staring. I couldn’t help but get caught up in him, not realizing that I was no longer being subtle.
He spoke without moving to face me, “You’re pretty cute, too.”
“I-I what?” My eyes widened, realizing I’d been caught.
He turned, a charming smile on his face, “You aren’t exactly discreet.”
I took a breath, trying to form a coherent sentence, “Well...can you blame me?”
He pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile, “I appreciate the compliment. What’s your name?”
I hesitated before answering him, which brought a full smile to his face. He moved closer to me before holding out his hand for me to shake. I grabbed his hand and shook it, trying to keep my hands steady. His hand was soft, clearly he took care of himself.
“I’m Yunho.”
I smiled, observing the way he lit up as he turned my hand, placing a delicate kiss on my skin. I felt my face heat up and averted my eyes. Yunho chuckled as he released my hand. Both of us looked up at the sound of the door opening, a group of students entered, followed by a lady who I presumed to be the teacher.
Yunho looked at me, “Meet me after class?”
I nodded, biting my lip as I felt excitement build in my stomach, wanting nothing more than for class to end as soon as possible.
The instant the teacher ended her lecture she left with the rest of the students, who were talking among themselves. My eyes flickered to Yunho to find him looking back at me, his backpack now thrown over his shoulders.
“You have any classes after this?” He asked in a nonchalant manner. Later he confessed to me that he was far more nervous than he appeared, claiming that he fell in love with me at first sight.
I finished placing my notebook in my bag, zipping it up and putting the straps over my arms, “Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve got World Politics in ten minutes.” 
“Aww damn. I was hoping we could grab some food.” He reached into his pants’ pocket, pulling out his phone, “Maybe I could get your number instead and we could meet up later?” He wasn’t pushy or demanding, simply asking.
I nodded quickly, “I’d like that, Yunho.”
He suddenly became more shy, the tips of his ears dusting a beautiful shade of pink, “I like the way you say my name.”
I giggled, trying to hide my own shyness. I took his phone and entered my number, really hoping that he would text me. As if he read my mind, he confirmed what I was thinking.
“I’ll text you,” He looked at me with sparkling eyes before shaking his head, like he was pulled back to reality, “Oh uh...you should probably get to class.“ He raised a hand, somewhat awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
“Yeah I probably should. I’ll see you around?”
He smiled, “I’ll see ya.”
-
It wasn’t long before he texted me, and it made my heart flutter that he kept his word. A day later we met up, grabbing ice cream and getting to know each other. He was a dance major and had to practically beg his parents to let him pursue dance. In return they said he had to repay them with getting straight A’s. He had one younger brother who was possibly the biggest baseball fan to ever exist, he roomed with three men he’d been friends with since kindergarten, and he absolutely adored my brown eyes.
“They’re just beautiful.” Yunho gushed, “Both times I’ve seen you they just sparkle and shine like they’ve got their own little galaxies in them. I’ve never seen anyone with such genuine, kind eyes.”
I let out a girly laugh at the compliment and covered my mouth with a hand, “You’re really trying to flatter me, aren’t you?”
“Depends. Is it working?” He laughed as he propped his head on one of his hands, leaning closer to me in the booth we were sitting in. We’d finished our ice cream long ago, now shamelessly flirting and getting lost in each other.
“It might be.”
“Well I do mean it. I’m not only trying to flatter you.”
The ringing of his phone caught our attention. He smiled apologetically and reached for the device. He sighed, reading the contact name and looking back up at me.
“I’m sorry I’ve gotta take this. It’s one of my roommates and it’s entirely possible they’ve set the house on fire.”
I laughed, “It’s okay, go ahead.”
Yunho excused himself as he answered the call, walking outside. I took a look around the shop we were in, smiling at all the decorations when I noticed a woman sitting alone, eating ice cream and staring at me. Her eyes were such an ice blue that they made her intimidating, to say the least. I wasn’t too surprised, I’d dressed nice and all throughout the day I’d been getting looks. Taking it as a compliment I smiled at her and waited for Yunho to return.
“So good news,” He started as he sat back down in the booth, running a hand through his hair, which was way more attractive than it should’ve been, “They haven’t burnt down the apartment, but San—he’s one of my roommates—his car ran out of gas a few miles away from here so I’ve gotta go help him. Can I drive you back to your own apartment first?”
“Oh no, I don’t want to worry you.” I waved a hand, “I can have a friend pick me up.”
He nodded, “If you’re more comfortable with that, sure, but I’d rather drive you home, if that’s okay.”
I nodded, walking with him as he guided me out to his car. We had our first kiss when he dropped me off, leaving me with the promise of another date, and he delivered. Time and time again he proved he truly cared about me, which inevitably led to a relationship.
We heard a loud crashing in the basement of the house and Yunho let out a frustrated groan, “Oh god it’s happening again.”
He walked over to the basement door, opening it and sighing at the loud yells emitting from below.
“What is it this time?” Yunho shouted.
Wooyoung’s voice rung out, “San won’t let me use the controller!”
The man in front of me placed a hand over his eyes, over the situation entirely, “You’re still fighting over that game?”
“Crash Bandicoot waits for no man!”
“San let him have the controller or I’ll come down there and I’ll beat both of your asses!” Yunho shut the door, giving me a tired smile and walking back to me, “You’d think we would’ve outgrown this stage by now. I’d fire them both and hire a new bassist and drummer if I could.”
“Okay that’s an absolute lie, and you say that like you’re any better. I saw you arguing with Seonghwa over the last bag of chips yesterday.”
He pointed a finger at me, not trying to hide the smile on his face, “Okay that was absolutely valid. I bought those and they were mine.”
I smirked. “My point still stands.”
He rolled his eyes playfully, changing the subject, “How about after our date I sing you a couple of our new songs?” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing my ear, “I wrote a few about you.”
I pulled back from him, feeling warmth spread in my chest. “Really? You did?”
Yunho wrapped an arm around my waist, “How could I not? You’re always my inspiration.”
I let out a string of incoherent gibberish which prompted the most adorable eye smiles from my boyfriend. I felt too honored to put my emotions into words.
“Go on.” Yunho motioned to the front door, “Grab your purse and head out to my car. I’ll let the guys know we’re going and I’ll meet you outside.”
I gave him a salute, “You got it cap’n!”
His eyes warmed, “God, I love you.”
“I know!” I teased before I grabbed my purse and skipped out of the house. The sun would be setting soon and I admired the several hues that were painted within the sky. I sat on the hood of his car, swinging my feet as I saw him walk out of the house.
“So where exactly are we going?” I tilted my head, looking forward to his response.
“Well I’ve got a couple ideas.” He held up his long fingers and counted off on them, “We could go bowling, or we could have a late night picnic, or maybe...” He moved closer, placing his hands on either side of me with a mischievous grin, “We could go swimming.”
My face lit up, “I haven’t been swimming in forever!”
“I know, that’s why I recommended it.” He laughed, “Let’s break into the swimming pool downtown. It’s definitely closed by now so we can be alone.”
I raised my brows at his words, a smile widening on my face, “Don’t we need to bring swimsuits, though?”
Yunho grinned at me and moved a hand to ruffle my hair, “Nope. We’re going without ‘em.” He lifted me off his car, “Hop in, babe.”
-
We approached the fence with our hands interlocked, a new message greeting us. A red and black sign with the words ‘No Trespassing’ was attached haphazardly to one of the metal wires looped through the fence surrounding the pool.
Yunho tsked, “Aw that’s cute. Like that’s gonna keep us out. This is basically our pool anyways.” 
I laughed, both of us knowing full well there was no method of security beyond the sign and fence. The pool had never installed security cameras and after word spread that the owner had a fear of advancing technology, we had no worry of being caught.
He cupped his hands, holding them out for me to step on. I placed my foot on his hands as he lifted me up, helping me scale the fence. I stepped back, feeling a thrill as Yunho jumped over. It was probably the fourth or fifth time we’d done this, but each time was just as exciting. We walked over to the edge of the pool, its light blue water and the dark blue of the sunset opposing one another but making a beautiful visual.
“Alright, off we go.” Yunho’s fingers danced to the hem of my shirt, then pulling it off and ridding me of the layer of clothing. He pressed several kisses to the exposed skin, making me shiver.
Yunho then pulled back from me, slowly removing his shirt and giving me a teasing look when he caught me staring at his abs, “I look good, don’t I?”
“Shut up,” I laughed, lightly slapping his strong, tattooed arm before removing my skirt, enjoying the way my boyfriend’s eyes devoured me. I returned the action when I saw him remove his jeans, something he was clearly enjoying as well.
I turned back to the pool only to be thrown over Yunho’s shoulders. He let out a string of laughs as I struggled to get down, fearing that he would throw me into the water.
“If you throw me into the pool I’ll kill you!” I laughed, squirming on his shoulders.
“No...I would never do something like that.” I wasn’t even facing him, but I could hear the smile in his voice, which was my only indication that he was about to throw me into pool.
Before I could try to make any sort of escape, he tossed me into the water. It was cold, but less cold than I expected it to be. I coughed up a bit of water as I resurfaced and when I opened my eyes I squinted at Yunho, annoyed at how attractive he looked with the evil smirk on his face.
“You’re a jerk.” I said with no venom behind my words.
“Yeah, yeah. Brace yourself I’m coming in.”
I barely had time to move before he jumped in, his legs tucked to his chest. “Cannonball!”
I moved my hands in front of my face to block the wave of water coming my way, not feeling any surprise about my boyfriend’s childish behavior. When he resurfaced he faced me with a smile, wading towards me, embracing me in his arms, and wrapping my legs around his waist. He was so tall that he could reach the bottom of the pool without having to swim, unlike me, where I was no near reaching the bottom and needed to swim in place. With a satisfied hum he pressed several wet kisses to my neck.
“I love you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by my skin.
“I love you too, babe.” I hesitated before I said my next words, still overwhelmed at how strong my feelings were for him, “You’re the love of my life.”
He pulled back with a bright smile on his face, his eyes shining almost as if he was tearing up, “I knew you were the love of my life the moment I saw you. And you’re all mine.” Yunho said before he placed a delicate kiss to my lips.
“All yours, babe.”
His long fingers danced along my sides, grabbing at my hips as he began to attack my chest with kisses. I giggled as the feeling of his stubble tickled my skin.
“You know, you really ‘oughta shave before you get a full beard.”
“Why? Are you saying I wouldn’t look good with one?”
I cupped his face, “You’d look amazing with one, but I thought you didn’t like beards, babe?”
“Hate ‘em.” Yunho’s laugh echoed around us, “Really weird that men can grow them in the first place. But anyways...”
His hands made quick work of my bra, letting it sink to the bottom of the pool. I opened my mouth to scold him but before I could his mouth latched to my right nipple, sucking and nipping on it in a way that made my hands seek out his hair and tug harshly at his locks. Letting out a growl, Yunho placed one hand on the the pool wall for balance and the other on my back, drawing abstract shapes there.
Yunho moved to my other nipple, giving it the same treatment and smiling when he heard my moans. In a flash he removed his hand from my back and pressed me against the pool wall, his hand now traveling to my panties.
As he removed the final item of clothing he ran a finger over my clit, giggling to himself. I gave him a look and he clarified, “Babe, you’re wet enough to fill an entire swimming pool.”
I groaned, pressing my head into his chest, “You make that same god awful joke every time we come here.”
“And as such I couldn’t let tradition die.”
“Shut up and fuck me.” I laughed, promptly helping him out of his boxers.
He continued to tease me after, switching between playing with my clit and stretching me out with his long fingers. By the time he finally gave in, I was a whimpering, pathetic mess, begging for more.
As he aligned with my walls he looked at me with delicate eyes, “Ready, little flower?”
I nodded quickly, chanting ‘yes’ over and over. Yunho once again placed a hand on the wall and hooked one of my legs over his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper inside me. He held my hand with his free one, a simple action that always melted my heart. Despite how long we’d been together, I would always get overwhelmed by him so easily. Everything about him exuded such a strong aura that sometimes just the smallest kiss would leave me breathless. The first time we were intimate he took his hand in mine and assured me he would be gentle, and every time since he’s held my hand. It wouldn’t feel right without our hands together.
“Shit—it’s been way too long since we’ve done this.” I said as he snapped his hips into mine, quickly repeating the action.
“God I know.” He let out a pained groan at the thought of it, “Four months is gonna be fucking awful without you.”
“Guess we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got now.”
“Guess we will.”
The sounds of water splashing and the echos of our moans, a symphony I had become so familiar with, was gradually reaching its crescendo. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open but I forced them to be, needed to memorize everything about this moment. The sweat dripping down Yunho’s forehead, the tattooed muscles he was flexing, the sounds and praise he was emitting, and pleasure we were both feeling--I wouldn’t see nor feel this for the next four months.
A particular snap of his hips had me seeing stars and I called out to him, letting him know I was close. Within minutes, both of us were panting and reeling from our highs. Yunho pressed his nose against mine and both of us closed our eyes, enjoying each other’s presence.
“How come every time we come here it ends in sex?” I giggled.
He blinked and moved a strand of wet hair out of my face, “Because you’re hot and barely wearing any clothes and no one’s around.”
I blushed at his compliment, “I mean like I’m not complaining or anything.”
A cocky smile formed on Yunho’s face, “Well it certainly didn’t sound like you were a moment ago.”
“Yunho!”
The man laughed, lifting me up and spinning me around in the pool before cradling me in his arms.
“I hate to say it, but we do need to head back. The world awaits for us, I’m afraid.”
I sighed, pressing into his chest, “I’m gonna miss you.”
He stilled as he pulled me closer, “I’m gonna miss you, too. You don’t have to miss me yet, though.”
“I know.” I swallowed, wishing I had something more to say.
“Come on, then.” Yunho gave me a quick kiss, “Let’s head back.”
-
Yunho held the front door open for me, giving me a gentle slap on my ass when I walked through. I turned around and gave him a playfully annoyed look, which he only laughed at.
As we walked towards the living room, the sound of a random sitcom filled our ears. Six heads turned our way after hearing our footsteps. Seonghwa was resting his head against his long-time girlfriend. She was a sweet girl and complimented him more than any woman I’d seen him with. They really were soulmates, if they ever existed.
San was sitting holding hands with a man he’d been interested in for awhile. I’d often see him flirting with various men and women, but he never went any further than that, too afraid of commitment. This man; however, seemed to breaking through San’s walls. I really hoped they would work out, San deserved someone as kind as him.
Wooyoung sat across from the them, who acknowledged us first.
“Hey guys. Have fun?” Wooyoung asked, smiling at my soaked hair. He had his arm around a woman I’d never seen before and I was certain that none of us would ever see her again. He had the reputation of a playboy, and every poor woman thought they’d be the one exception, the one to make him stay. I’m sure the allure of being a drummer in a band was part of his appeal, too. Maybe one day, like San, he’d settle down.
The woman became visibly upset when Wooyoung looked me with a teasing glance. Feeling sympathy for her, I decided to do my best to calm her nerves.
I spoke for us, linking hands with my boyfriend. “Yeah, we did. I think we’re gonna go clean up though.” I looked at the woman, “I’m y/n, by the way. I’m Yunho’s girlfriend.”
She didn’t even try to hide the relief on her face. “Oh! I’m Solar. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung started, “Best girlfriend he’s ever had. Much better for him than Lucy.”
Yunho glared at the man, “Thought we agreed not to bring her up?”
Lucy, the woman Yunho dated before me, was arguably the scariest person I’d ever heard about. They dated for roughly three months before she became obsessive, to the point where Yunho had to get a restraining order against her. She threatened to hurt all of Yunho’s friends and family, all because she wanted Yunho all to herself. That was about all Yunho ever told me about her. Not that I complained. I didn’t exactly want to discuss his exes, even more so when they were that crazy.
I never told him, but I knew I saw her the first date we went on. I could see the way her piercing, ice eyes saw through me. I had no doubt it was her. I just hope I’d never see her again. Maybe now that she saw he was taken she’d leave us alone. There was an uncomfortable silence following, none of us knowing what to say until San spoke.
“You look like a wet dog, Yunho.” San joked, prompting laughter from a few of us, which seemed like more of a noise of relief rather than one of actual humor.
“Yeah, yeah.” My boyfriend relaxed his shoulders, “I think we’re gonna head in for the night so don’t make too much noise.” Waving them goodbye he caught up with me, placing a hand around my waist.
“Shower with me, doll.”
I placed a hand on his chest, “I would love to.”
-
I came out of the shower wearing my favorite large shirt of Yunho’s, drying my wet hair with a towel. The smell of chlorine had gone away for the most part; whatever chemicals the owner put in that pool always made the smell harder to get rid of. Only a small price to pay, I figured.
My boyfriend, who was much quicker than I was, looked up from his phone as he was splayed out across his bed. His tired eyes smiled at me while motioning me over. Yunho’s own hair was still drying and with his bare face and crooked smile, he was as handsome as he could ever be.
“Hey there.”
“Hey, sweetheart.” He reached an arm out to me, pulling me against him when I took his hand, “How ya feeling?”
“Tired.” I hummed, sleepily smiling against his neck.
“Too tired to listen to the song I wrote for you?”
“No! Not at all.”
Yunho chuckled, slowly brushing my hair aside and turning his head to look at me. As he had countless times, he took a breath before he turned to me, beginning to sing.
“You give me fireworks
I’ll give you the kindest words, my dear
Your love caught me
The moment I met your eyes
And how could I not fall?
Your heart bared, no disguise”
I fought to stay awake although his melodic voice seemed to be lulling me to sleep. I felt myself losing consciousness, but managed to catch the last few lyrics he sang to me.
“Now I sunbathe in the daybreak
Half asleep, half awake
Writing this song
As I hope I’ll dream of you”
Yunho brushed his fingertips brush against my face before he spoke, “Goodnight, flower.”
I muttered some form of a “goodnight” before I felt sleep take over me, nuzzling happily against my boyfriend.
-
I woke up in a panic, unsure why my heart was beating so fast until I looked at the clock. Eleven in the morning. I was an hour later than I should’ve been at my job. It seemed that even unconscious my body knew I was late.
“Oh shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I spoke with wide eyes.
Jumping from Yunho’s bed I stripped myself of his shirt and quickly threw my clothes on. The body that laid beside me stirred, moving the covers aside.
“Are you leaving?” He asked sleepily, his face puffy from sleep and an adorable pout on his lips.
I frowned, “Yeah. I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together, babe.”
He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. Both of us slept in.”
I tied my hair back, sighing. I was so caught up in my thoughts I almost missed Yunho’s question.
“Sorry what was that?”
He smiled, “You’re coming to our going away party tomorrow, right?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I moved back to the bed and hugged him, feeling my heart sink. I was proud of him, I really was, yet couldn’t help but feel sad that I wouldn’t see him for so long.
This was the longest tour they’d ever gone on and we’d never been apart from each other that long before. I trusted him and I was confident in our relationship, but realistically, all members of Sidekick Heart were attractive young men and a good portion of their fans were female. I was far more concerned about the female audience doing something than I was about Yunho making a move on another woman.
With one last squeeze of his shoulders I pulled back, goodbyes beginning to fall from my lips before Yunho pulled me back.
“I need a goodbye kiss.”
I pressed my lips together with a smile, gladly indulging him. Giving him one last kiss against the lips, I bid him farewell until the following day.
-
“So how was work?” My roommate asked as I walked in the house, propping her feet up on our couch and tossing a kernel of corn into her mouth, the lighting of the TV illuminating her blanket-covered body.
I sighed, sitting down on the floor next to her, “Other than being an hour and a half late and missing an important meeting I think it went okay. I’m just glad the day’s over.” Rubbing a hand over my face I turned to her, “What about you? How was your day?”
“Pretty damn good actually.” She smiled, removing the blanket and showing me the new ink on her upper arm. It was an assortment of flowers and matched her bubbly personality perfectly. They were now the fifth adornment on her beautiful dark skin, each one of them tempting me more and more to get a few of my own.
“Another one already, Tiff?”
“Listen, you’ll know how addicting they get as soon as you get your first.”
“You sound so confident that I will.”
“Oh I know you will. You’re dating a rockstar, after all. Not to mention he’s the goddamn lead singer and has tattoos of his own.”
“Shut up.” I giggled, “Speaking of, are you coming to the farewell party tomorrow?”
“I plan on it, but I’ll probably be there a couple hours late. My dad’s flying into town for the weekend so I plan on visiting first. I’m definitely coming though.”
I hummed, “Yeah, don’t worry too much about it. We all know it’ll go till sunrise anyway.”
She let out a loud laugh, likely remembering the last party of theirs we went to where she ended up more drunk than I’d ever seen her. She claims she remembers flashes of the night; playing strip beer pong and being dared to steal one of the neighbor’s bushes—which, after much convincing from those who were sober, she decided against it—but didn’t recall half of the hilarious memories of her the rest of us did. Personally, my favorite was watching her hold a tomato soup can and cry over the fact that it could never have children.
Tiff let out a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head, turning in my direction. Her words were muffled by her yawn as she spoke, “Imma go to bed now. You good before I go?”
I smiled at her, “Yeah I’m good. I won’t stay up too much longer, just need to go through my nightly routine of looking at the stars, ya know, the usual.”
She nodded, wrapping the blanket around her and heading to her bedroom, “Sleep well, babe. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
“Back at ya.”
It was a habit of mine, gazing at the night sky before sleeping. It gave me comfort knowing that out there, somewhere, there was something else out there with me. Almost like I wasn’t going through everything alone.
I set my purse down when I reached our kitchen, reaching for a tea pot and tea bags, brainlessly brewing my favorite tea as I thought of what Yunho might be doing right now. It was probably most likely that he was practicing for their tours, but I could only hope he was getting a little bit of rest.
I stepped out onto our porch to look at the stars with a cup of tea in my hands, the night sky twinkling with all the stars it could offer. A slight breeze rustled my hair and I closed my eyes, thankful for the pleasant weather. I heard a sudden snap of a branch and my eyes quickly opened as I searched out property for any sign of an aggressive animal. My eyes finally landed on a human-like figure. Feeling adrenaline run though me, I decided to confront whoever or whatever it was.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I spoke, my voice loud but not quite a yell.
The figure took off it’s hood to show their face, and I saw a familiar pair of ice blue eyes, though I hadn’t seen them in years, “I’m here to see you, of course.”
My brain quickly connected her to the woman I hoped I’d never see again.
Lucy.
“Well I don’t want to see you. Leave.”
She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense, “But I came all this way! Just to...say hello.”
I took a step towards her, hoping that if I appeared confrontational she would leave me alone. “I don’t know who you are, now please leave. I’m not going to say it again.”
“Oh, you poor girl. You really think you have the upper hand?” She pulled out a knife, and walked towards me at impressive speed, pointing the weapon at my throat. “I know you’ve been seeing Yunho. I. Don’t. Like. That.” She emphasized every word of the last sentence, anger woven within her voice.
I wanted to fight back. Everything in me was screaming to fight back, but I knew I had no chance. I had no idea what she was capable of, and I didn’t dare to find out.
“I dated him first and he’s still mine. You’re going to break up with him, you hear me?” She screamed in my ear, the sound shaking me to my core, “I never want to see you near him again.” She grabbed my jaw harshly, forcing my eyes to lock with hers. “I bet he doesn’t even love you.”
My eyes watered. I knew she was wrong, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the harshness of her words I began to doubt myself.
Her grip tightened and I let out a yelp, “He loves me and I love him. He’s always loved me, not you. Why would he ever love a thing like you?”
She then threw me to the ground, towering over me, “Break up with him. Make him hate you. If you don’t,” She squatted down next to me, once more pointing the knife at my throat, “I’ll kill him myself and make you watch. Then,” She cocked her head, a crazed smile plastered on her face, “I’ll kill you. If I can’t have him, no one can.” She stood, smirking at me, “And you know I will.”
She kicked me in the stomach, watching as I crawled into myself, groaning from the pain. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t hurt me any more than she already had.
“I’ll be watching you at the party tomorrow. Do it then. Break his heart. I’ll kill him then and there if you don’t.” She looked down at me and scoffed, “And I’ll be bringing friends to make sure the job gets done.”
I carefully opened my eyes to see her stepping over me, walking back into the darkness from which she came. I scrambled back into my house, hyperventilating from the interaction I just had.
I spent the night crying, not able to sleep even for a minute. I tried to think rationally, but there were just too many variables. How many ‘friends’ was she bringing? Would she really kill Yunho in front of everyone? Where would she be watching me from? Is she watching me now?
I could text or call Yunho to let him know, but where would we go from there? He’d want to meet me and she’d kill him instantly. Right?
“Maybe I could pull him aside at the party and warn him?” I murmured to myself, “No, she could probably see that. Maybe there’s people actually at the party who are looking out for us, too.” I covered my face with my hands and fell back into my pillows, weeping as I knew I had to break up with the love of my life.
-
Choosing to wear a yellow dress honestly couldn’t have been more ironic. Yellow was supposed to be a happy color. A color of hope and yearning, innocence and warm days full of laughter. It was the complete antithesis of how I felt and what I knew I had to do. Even worse, the weather was perfect. It was sunny, but not so much to make it unbearable outside. Everything about today made my insides twist.
I took a breath at the door of Yunho’s house, bracing myself for what I had to do. Knocking a few times I heard a commotion inside before the man I came to see opened the door. His smile had never been bigger.
“Baby!” He cheered, pulling me into a bear hug and ruffling my styled hair, “I’m so excited you’re here!”
He looks so ecstatic. And I have to break him.
The thought crushed me and brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t let him die. I knew she was serious, I didn’t doubt that for a moment. I grabbed Yunho’s arm, pulling him outside and away from everyone in the house.
I looked at the ground as I felt my lips begin to quiver, “I’m sorry. I just need to get this over with.”
Yunho bent down to meet my eyes, “Hey, hey. What’s going on sweetheart?” His voice was gentle, one of his hands coming to rub the tears from my face, “I’m here for you, whatever it is.”
I looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. I hated myself more than I’d ever hated anyone. “I don’t love you, Yunho.” My hands began to shake beyond my control, my own body knowing I was making a mistake.
“W-what?” Yunho’s voice cracked. A moment of silence passed before he let out a hollow laugh, “Baby, you don’t mean that-”
I looked up at him and immediately wished I hadn’t. Tears were welling in his eyes, his own hands beginning to shake.
“I said I don’t love you Yunho!” I said louder than I intended, “Not anymore. I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry.”
He took a step back and I noticed his hands clenching, something he always did to keep himself from crying.
“If that’s what you want,” Tears fell from his eyes before he finished his sentence, “Then I’ll support your decision.” He looked to the side, not knowing what else to say.
I wanted nothing more than to throw myself in his arms and explain everything, tell him that I’ve never stopped loving him, not even for a second, but I couldn’t. Instead, I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and looked at him one last time. He was so fucking handsome, so goddamn kind, and here I was doing this to him. Maybe he did deserve someone better.
“Good luck with your tour, Yunho. I know you’ll be fantastic.”
I turned and walked away from him quickly, leaving the house and ignoring the stare I could feel on me. I ran across the yard to my car, starting the engine and leaning my head against the steering wheel. I felt myself lose all oxygen in my body, the only option left to take large gasps of air. My vision was so clouded by tears I couldn’t even see anymore. I’d just lost myself along with my other half. I’d never felt as empty as I did in that moment.
Just then I heard a knocking on my window. I half-hardheartedly lifted my head and felt my heart lurch. Yunho was standing outside my car, eyes red and puffy, looking at me like I was the last person he’d ever see. I opened my car without thinking, my breathing still as uneven as before.
Yunho spoke, his voice coarse and distant, “I’m not asking you to change your mind, but I need you to know that I have always loved you and I always will. That will never change.”
I wiped the snot from my nose but didn’t bother to try and fix the mascara I knew was streaming down my face. I knew I had to look horrible, but he still held so much love for me that it was easy to see in his eyes. I fought myself to not reply, knowing that if I’d open my mouth all I’d say was ‘I love you’ over and over again.
“Is it too out of line to ask for a last hug?” He smiled sadly as more tears poured from his eyes.
I shook my head, running into his arms and embracing him. I felt like I made a mistake the moment I did because I could smell him. He was wearing the cologne I bought him for his birthday. His warm, sturdy chest...everything about him felt like home.
“Goodbye, Yunho.”
-
I arrived at home alone, tears still stinging my eyes. Tiff was nowhere to be found and I couldn’t decide if I was thankful or sad for the fact that she wasn’t there. I barely made it out to our porch before collapsing once again, finding it harder and harder to breathe. I didn’t know how long I was sitting there, it could’ve been one hour or three, but given the setting sun it looked like it was the latter. Once more I heard a noise outside our home, and once more the female figure appeared before me.
“You did good,” Lucy said, twirling her knife in her hands, “Dare I say I’m proud of you.”
“I don’t ever want to see you here again.” I cried, “I did what you want now get the fuck away from me.”
“My, my. You have quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” She tsked, “But you did as I asked, so I might as well comply. Don’t; however, think that you can go crawling back to Yunho and tell him about this. I’ll keep watching you and if you decide to do just that...I’ll follow through with my promise.”
I kept my eyes on the ground, convinced that if I looked up at her I’d attempt to rip the hair out of her head. No anger I had ever felt before could surmount to the rage I was feeling.
“Nonetheless, it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss.”
As soon as she came, she was gone. When I finally let myself look up, I could no longer see her, only darkness. Once again, I was alone.
-
Six months had passed since I broke up with Yunho and today officially made the third new date I’d went on. All of them were absolutely horrible. It wasn’t even that the guys were mean or rude or weren’t attractive, they just weren’t him.
Why am I even trying to move on?
I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked heavy, the bags under my eyes ever prominent. I couldn’t fool myself. I’d never be able to be with another man again. I forced myself to hold back tears and reached back to untie my hair, preparing to take a bath in hopes that it would take my mind off of things.
I began to run the warm water as I reached for several candles, lighting them and placing them around the room, trying to forget the entire day altogether. As I waited for the tub to fill I grabbed my phone, opening Instagram for no other reason than to have something to do. Although Yunho and I broke up, I still followed their band account, as well as their individual accounts. Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung were still my friends, after all. Yunho was the only exception. Both of us unfollowed each other early on just because it was too painful. I didn’t hold it against him and hoped he didn’t hold it against me either.
Regardless, my eyes found the most recent post on Sidekick Heart’s account. All four members were shirtless, their hair dripping wet with goofy smiles plastered on their faces. They were standing by a pool, the same one Yunho and I would often break into. I noticed Yunho first, how could I not? His smile wasn’t as wide as the other’s, his eyes a bit colder, but he looked happy all the same. He looked good. Really, really good. He was always fit while we were dating, but he gained more muscle since I last saw him and it didn’t go unnoticed by their fans, either. I clicked the comment section against my better judgement, knowing what I was going to see before I even did so.
“Yunho looks like a fucking goddd”
“So Yunho’s still single right??”
“Yunhooo hmu I beg you”
“Jesus Christ Yunho break me please”
A surge of jealousy rushed through me. I hated when girls said those things when we were together, but now that we were apart it made it even worse. I had no right to be jealous, and that was the worst part.
The water reached my leg that was resting on the side of the tub and I scrambled to turn off the faucet. Doing my best to push the images from my mind I placed my phone aside and stripped from my clothes, settling in the water. I sighed as some water fell out of the side of the tub. It wasn’t a terrible thing to happen, but it seemed to just be another thing to go wrong.
My eyes wandered back to my phone, Instagram still open and the picture I was looking at earlier still on display. He was so fucking hot and seeing that he was standing next to that pool—our pool—made my brain short circuit. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from taking me back to the last night we broke in, the way we teased each other and how it inevitably led to sex. It seemed I had no control over my body as my dominant hand slipped between my legs.
But as much as I wanted it to be, it wasn’t the same. My fingers weren’t as long or slender as his and just nothing about our touches were the same, but the image of him just made my hormones rage. Every ounce of me craved him.
My fingers swirled around my clit, a bundle of pleasure shooting through me at the action. I closed my eyes, letting my body take over and repeat the motions and much as I fought not to, my brain kept replaying scenes of two of us again, and again, and again.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yunho spoke as I sunk down on his dick, barely finding the energy to lift myself up again even though the noises he made were like shots of espresso.
“Aww, is my baby getting tired?” He cooed, jerking his hips into mine.
“It’s not fair!” I whined, “I’m not good at this and you know it.”
“But we wouldn’t be a good couple if we didn’t encourage each other to work hard, right? Up you go, flower.”
I whimpered and pouted, but still obeyed him. Taking pity on me, Yunho grabbed my waist and lifted me, relaxing his grip as I moved downward. I made a noise that wasn’t understood by Yunho, but it didn’t go unnoticed.
“What was that?”
“Please. More. I need you so bad.” I begged.
Yunho laughed, “I really do have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”
I nodded before remembering that he’d probably prefer a verbal answer, “Yes. I’m w-wrapped around your finger.”
He let out a noise of satisfaction before flipping us over into a position so that he would have full control. I grabbed the bedsheets roughly, so much in my own world that I didn’t hear Yunho’s words.
“What was that?” I let out with a series of mewls.
“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, too, you know? I don’t go an hour without thinking about you anymore. I can’t even have a single conversation without bringing you up. Anytime someone says your name my heart beats out of my damn chest. You’re the only woman for me.”
My legs shook as my high approached, barely able to breathe at it’s intensity. It took me a minute before I could even remember where I was. As I came to my senses, I felt tears biting at my eyes and this time I didn’t bother to hold them back. I watched as they streamed down my face and joined the now-cold water surrounding me. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, glad Tiff wasn’t home to hear my wailing. She’d been good about staying with me since the breakup, but tonight she just wasn’t here. The hole in my heart felt even deeper now. I wondered if he found someone, if he was happy now. Hell, maybe it was his ex. The thought tore my heart out and ripped it in two. I wanted to be happy for him if it was true, but I just couldn’t be. I was still too selfish. I still wanted him to love only me.
-
 New friends, new beginnings or whatever.
That’s apparently what I thought when I began attending more clubs at college after the breakup, meeting new people and eventually finding a really solid friend group. All who happened to really like punk-rock music.
“You should really go with us,” Shang directed his words at me, “There’s a new band popping up that’s playing this weekend. It’s three hours away but they have great music.” 
I sighed, not fully convinced although it did sound fun. The last concert I’d been to was one of Yunho’s and though I hadn’t even seen him in what felt like forever, I still couldn’t help myself from thinking of him anytime someone talked about concerts. Sensing my apprehension, the woman beside me spoke up.
“Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!” Tyra chanted in my ear, her black curls bouncing with her as she clapped her hands between the words. “Come on, it would be so much fun and you know it.”
I bit my lip, deep in thought. I knew I would have fun but I just didn’t know if that would outweigh the pain I would feel.
“What’s the band name?” I asked, looking at Shang.
“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his head, “I was a little drunk when I told one of my friends I’d be there so I don’t even remember what they’re called.”
“How do you know they have great music, then?” I laughed, Tyra agreeing with me, apparently not knowing who was playing when she agreed either.
“I mean, my brother listens to their music and he’s got good music taste so they’ve gotta be good.”
I closed my eyes as I felt an oncoming headache, knowing they wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Fuck it.” I stated, “I’ll go.”
The two cheered, Shang promising that I’d enjoy myself. I doubted it, truthfully, but really it was decided that I’d go the moment the pair brought the idea up to me.
-
Our trio waded through the giant crowd as the doors opened to let us into the venue. It was big, one of the larger concerts I’ve been to. Whoever we were seeing was successful, for sure. The volume at which everyone was speaking was essentially a yell, so I had to do just that to get my messages through.
“I still can’t believe we have no fucking idea who’s playing!” I yelled at Shang.
He laughed, “I got seats towards the front row, though! I didn’t even have to pay for them!”
“That’s not gonna matter if we don’t know any of the lyrics, you dipshit!” Tyra barked.
“Okay okay I should’ve asked, I get that now.”
As we found our way towards the seats, there was a big projector with the words ‘Sidekick Heart’ displayed across it. My heart dropped and I suddenly felt it become hard to breathe.
“You got us tickets to a Sidekick Heart concert?” Tyra beamed, “I love their music and I’m practically in love with San! His vocals are insane! Holy shit, Shang!”
“Ohhhh yeah I remember now.” He chuckled.
I seemed to fade into the background as the two of them discussed their love for the band and the members. All I could think about was seeing Yunho again.
Would he see me? How would he react if he does?...Does he hate me?
I only came back to reality when the audience began to cheer and I saw all the members step onto stage. Seonghwa cradled his electric guitar, in one arm, waving at the audience with the other. Wooyoung plopped down behind the drum set, smiling at the audience while twirling a drumstick. With his bass guitar, San, ever the king of expressions, gave his best smoulder to the audience and it seemed like the audience collectively screamed over him. Then came Yunho out to center stage, his electric guitar in his hands and a smirk on his face as if he knew everyone in the damn building wanted to fuck him. And he’d be right. The spotlights on each of them made them look like actual gods. If I didn’t know them personally I would have thought they were.
Yunho leaned into the mic, his gruff voice taking me by surprise, “Hello everyone! Great to see you all! If you haven’t been to one of our concerts before this is how it’s gonna work: You’re gonna dance, we’re gonna sing, we’re all gonna have a fucking great time tonight!”
The crowd erupted as the first song began to play. It was one of their more popular songs and for good reason. All over it was a really well put together song and I couldn’t help as I began to mouth along to the words. Song after song played, some I knew some I didn’t, and the entire time I couldn’t look away from the man singing. He radiated confidence and looked relaxed as if he’d been performing for decades. I knew he wasn’t as cool as he seemed, I’d given him so many pep talks before performances I couldn’t count them, but as an outsider you’d never know.
I wonder who talked him up this time?
“Alright everyone. This is the last song of the night and-”
The audience booed, everyone upset at the night coming to a close.
Yunho laughed. The sound was rich and beautiful. He was truly enjoying himself. This is what he was meant to do, with or without me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.
Yunho’s voice filled my ears. “I know, I know. I’d love to stay a bit longer, too. Here’s the thing though...” He paused and I opened my eyes only to see him looking back at me. His eyes automatically softened as they always did when he saw me, but as if he remembered how we ended his gaze hardened slightly, like he was trying to distance himself. It felt like we’d been looking at each other for hours before he opened his mouth to speak again, but I knew very well that my perception of time had been off for a while.
“Even if we only have this little time left, I’ve truly enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. The fact that it’s coming to an end soon is what makes it so special, I think.” Yunho broke eye contact with me, smiling slightly and glancing back out at the sea of people. “Seeing your smiling faces, your energetic cheers—all of it—is a reminder to me that we’re so lucky to be doing this as a job. Really...I love you all.”
The audience let out a chorus of ‘awws’ which was followed by several rather aggressive ‘I love you too’s.
The lead singer once more smiled, “Now, without further adieu, this is one of our newest songs and it’s called Brown Eyes, here it is.”
The music began to play, all instruments coming together to make a somber tune. Somehow they were always able to write music that perfectly encapsulated emotions or ideas. This one? Loss.
“Since you left you’re still so infused
In how I think and what I do
Can’t seem to get you to leave me alone
Your ghost stayed here and she watches my tears
That run down our picture frames”
Then he found me again in the crowd, no doubt able to see the tears staining my makeup, no doubt able to see how broken I was. And still, he sang.
“I’ve tried hard to fight it
Yet I keep givin’ in
There’s been no one but you
I’m trapped, confined
And your platinum smile still knocks me out
Every single time”
He kept eye contact with me, not once breaking his gaze. It was almost as if he wanted me to break first, as if he wanted me to look away before him. As if he was daring me to leave him again.
San stepped closer to his mic and took his eyes away from his bass guitar, Yunho’s voice being replaced by the purple-haired man. As his voice rang out I only could’ve hoped the next lyrics were about one of San ex’s, not me. Even if they weren’t, Yunho still looked at me.
“It’s not aimed at me 
Maybe it never was
But oh darling, you could’ve fooled me”
My eyes flickered down, unable to look at Yunho any longer. His gaze only broke my heart further and in turn I felt my eyes water. After a moment or two, I worked up the courage to look back at him. He was still looking at me like he never moved his eyes. I couldn’t seem to register the lyrics until Yunho began to sing again, his voice drawing me in as it always did.
“You've disappeared without a trace
Left an unsuspecting guise
Love, I need you to know
I’ve been losing far more than sleep
Over those deep chocolate eyes.”
As the song and the show ended and everyone in the crowd cheered, I felt a rush of emotions run through me. Thrilled that they’d become so successful, proud of them for putting on such an amazing show, and hurt because I could still see a sliver of sadness in Yunho’s eyes.
I hurt him.
Yunho then reluctantly said his goodbyes to the audience along with the rest of the members. His jaw tightened as he walked over to Wooyoung, whispering something in his ear before walking off stage. Feeling like I was set in a trance, I grabbed my Tyra’s arm and mumbled something about going to the bathroom before following him. I completely ignored her questions and concerns about where I was going, dead set on talking to him again even though I didn’t have a damn idea what I was going to say.
Somehow, through the giant maze of people, I was able to spot Yunho leaving through the backstage. Instinctively I ran towards him, still having no plan in mind. I only stopped when a purple-headed man appeared before me.
“Y/n!” He smiled, bringing me into a hug, “I missed you so much!” He pulled back from me, “We all did.”
Seonghwa and Wooyoung came from behind me, both wearing sad, kind smiles. They looked healthy and happy, which was all I could’ve asked for them.
“How’ve you been, girl?” Seonghwa cocked his head, genuinely curious.
I hesitated, not sure if I should tell them the truth. But at the end of the day, they were still my friends. “Not...great. If I’m being honest. I was kinda hoping I could talk to Yunho...if I could.”
They all shared a look I couldn’t understand.
Wooyoung spoke up, “We’re having a party at a friend’s house after this, you should come.”
I was surprised, still not fully understanding the situation.
San frowned, “I think it would be good for you two to talk. He didn’t tell us too much about what happened, but I’m sure you had a good reason. You were always so good to all of us.”
“I can text you the address if you’d like,” Wooyoung added, “You still have the same number?”
I nodded.
“Okay, good. We need to get back but we’ll see you there. Take care, okay?”
“I will. Thanks guys.”
San pulled me in for another hug, “Of course.”
They waved as we parted ways and for the first time that night, I felt hopeful. I spotted Shang and Tyra and ran up to them, no doubt a smile on my face as I asked, “Soo...you guys up for a party?”
-
I ditched my friends the moment we arrived, barely even sparing a word with Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung once they nudged me in the direction of Yunho. I didn’t try to think too much about it, knowing I’d explain it all to them later.
He was standing in an empty bedroom, looking at the floor and sipping out of a red cup which likely contained liquor. When his eyes met mine a rush of memories flooded back to me. The first time we kissed, the first time he confessed he loved me, the first time he saw me cry.
The first time I broke his heart.
His eyes raised to mine, his face stoic, “Enjoy the show?”
My mouth opened and closed, not having any clue what to say to him, “Yunho I-”
“I know why you did it.” He said suddenly, “A week after you left me Lucy showed up to one of our shows and tried to convince me it was all a coincidence. Said that I could finally be with her. When I didn’t buy it she finally gave in and told me she convinced you we were better apart. So naturally I called the cops and they arrested her for breaking the restraining order, thank god.” He shook his head, looking disgusted, “You know I never wanted us to be apart. My question to you,” he took a step further towards me, “is why did you do it? Why did you end us?”
When I couldn’t seem to respond he talked once more, “You could’ve told me what she was trying to do. We could’ve worked it out together.” He looked more disappointed and heartbroken rather than angry.
He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yunho.” I bit my tongue as I fought back tears, “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I-I’m just-” I sobbed, “Lucy told me she would kill you if I kept dating you.”
Yunho’s mouth shut and eyes widened, clearly missing that bit of information. I took it as my cue to continue “I don’t know why she did it, but it’s probably because we were happy.”
More tears fell down my face and it became harder for me to talk, but I owed him the truth. I had to tell him the truth. I looked up at him but because of my tears my vision was blurred. Yunho’s hands were tightening into fists as he looked away from me.
“I couldn’t tell you because I had to protect you so I had to make you hate me and I’m just so sorry.” I fell to the ground, my body feeling as heavy as my heart.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I brought my eyes to meet his own, “I’m sorry.” A tear streamed down his cheek, heavy remorse in his eyes, “God she’s fucking awful.”
A laugh got caught in my throat, “Yeah she is.”
He set his cup down somewhere along the way a his hands cupped my face, finally whispering the words I’d only heard in dreams, “I still love you so fucking much. I never stopped loving you. I never even tried to stop because I know I couldn’t.”
I jumped into his arms and kissed him hard, unintentionally knocking him to the floor. He met my lips with just as much fire, groaning when I unconsciously bucked my hips into his, all my sexual frustration still pent up.
“I missed you so fucking much.” Yunho growled, obviously feeling needy too but deciding against it as he wrapped his arms around my waist, speaking in between kisses, “I missed your cute laugh. I missed your lips. I missed your fucking awful jokes. I missed the way you’d look at me whenever you told me you loved me. I missed your gorgeous body and your smile. I missed your moans and the way you arched your back when we’d have sex. I missed how alive you made me feel.” He pulled back to look at me, “My life had no purpose without you.”
I took a breath, tears once more falling, “Mine didn’t either.” It wasn’t anything profound or emotional, but it was the truth. It didn’t.
Gently picking me up, he placed me on the bed. His eyes were raw, as emotional as they could ever be. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me as if I would disappear at any minute.
“Stay with me. Come with us on the rest of the tour. If you can’t take a vacation we’ll hire you as an assistant. If you can’t do that we’ll make some other kind of accommodation. Just stay, please. Please be mine again.”
I looked at the man in front of me. The tough-looking, six-foot tall, tattooed, strong man that could probably scare the shit out of anyone. Yet here he was, bearing his heart to me and being as vulnerable as a person could be.
I smiled, feeling my heart swell. “I’ve only ever been yours.”
-
The morning was bright, lighting directly hitting my eyes. I cursed myself for not closing the blinds the night before and blinked off my sleep when I heard a familiar pleasant sound.
Jumping down from the bed I put on the new fluffy bathrobe my lover bought me. I followed Yunho’s voice out to my porch, realizing I was listening to a new song of his. The man was strumming a guitar, a beautiful melody falling from his lips. When he noticed me, he smiled and continued to sing.
“I’m in a vivid yellow mood
You’re my muse, my home and room
And now that I have you again
What could I ever fear?
Oh do me a favor, dear
And inscribe your name on my sleeve
Let me keep it there forever
Because you’re better than any daydream.”
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livrever · 3 years
Text
The Favour
This is a prompt fic, based on a prompt given to me by @mininoire
I hope you like it, Mini!
“Marinette, Please!” Kagami wheedled, her voice shockingly close to a whine. The tone would surprise most people who were not intimately acquainted with the heir to the Tsurugi clan. As the head of the powerful Guild of Inventors, the Tsurugis were known to be coldly calculating and calmly logical. While Kagami could be and often was, both of those things, she was still an eighteen-year-old girl, brimming with passion and a fiery determination. 
Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of the leaders of the more plebeian Baker’s Guild was Kagami’s best friend acting as both companion and lady-in-waiting, not quite her social equal, but close enough that the Tsurugi matriarch, Tomoe, had allowed their friendship to blossom. From the age of twelve onwards, the two girls shared everything from tutors to secrets.
Kagami excelled at the physical arts, a graceful dancer, whose footwork was unparalleled. Marinette’s passion lay with needlework, her embroidery of a higher caliber than the majority of the members of the seamstress’ guild was able to do. So, unsurprisingly, it was Marinette who had developed the secret code of threads that they worked into their needlework, and even their dresses. 
It came as no surprise that Marinette was the first to know when Kagami fell for the one person she wasn’t allowed to. To be fair, there were many, many people that Kagami would not be allowed to even associate with, let alone fall in love with, but only one was her equal in society: Adrien Agreste.
Adrien was the son of Tomoe’s bitter rival, Gabriel Agreste, the head of the Manufacturer’s Guild. The guilds themselves had a longstanding feud, and when the two powerful families had made their way to leadership positions in the guilds, the animosity between them intensified. 
Kagami had met Adrien when her dance master took her and Marinette to practice with dancers at other schools around Paris, and she fell for his skill and kindness in equal measure, long before she learned his last name. 
Convincing her mother to allow her to continue dancing with Monsieur D’Argencourt, the premier dance instructor in the city was not difficult. While Marienette had not spent her life dancing as Kagami had, she was talented enough of a beginner that she was allowed to accompany Kagami to her lessons, partnered with another talented beginner named Nino, one of Adrien’s closest friends. Marinette and Nino quickly struck up a friendship as they became co-conspirators in their friends’ love affair. Nino was quick-witted and easygoing, and Marinette enjoyed his company.
Whispered conversations and stolen moments while the dance master focused his attention on Marinette and Nino allowed Kagami and Adrien’s romance to blossom. Kagami confided to Marinette that Adrien felt the same way that she did. Marinette was happy for them, for all that they had to sneak around to spend time with each other, and the fleet of horseless carriages owned by the Tsurugis guaranteed that they could go nowhere but where they said they were going. The lack of accompanying servants to report back on whom the girls were meeting with made the option more tolerable.
The girls often met Adrien, and sometimes Nino at a museum or a concert or, on one memorable occasion, a street fair. Marinette and Nino trailing behind, their friendship solid, with neither of them in possession of any desire to turn it into something more. Kagami was incredibly appreciative of Marinette’s discretion, and every week that passed, the girls’ vigilance relaxed. 
After four months of secret dating had passed, Tomoe called Kagami into her sitting room to inform her daughter that she was switching her dance teacher. When Kagami protested that there was no better teacher than Monsieur D’Argencourt, Tomoe announced that she had heard that “the Agreste boy” was also taking lessons there. When Kagami balked, citing the fact that they had the same dance partners every week, Tomoe just sniffed and changed her dance teacher anyway. 
It was a few months after that when Tomoe came to Kagami with the news that she had found a match for her daughter. Luka Couffaine was the oldest child of the tempestuous heads of the much lauded Guild of Musicians, and, on the surface, the family could not have appeared more different than the Tsurugis. While the Tsurugi family prided themselves on their control, the Couffaines were free-spirited. Personality wise, it wasn’t a match that made a lot of sense, but politically it was advantageous.
Couffaines were creative. They were always creating and tinkering, quietly lost in their own worlds, or shredding the eardrums of Parisian citizens at ungodly hours of the morning, whenever inspiration struck. The parents fought, loudly and contentiously, but the children were both calm and quiet, a fact that was often overlooked as people interacted with the clan.
Kagami did not want to go on the date. Luka, apparently, had been to the Tsurugi mansion, and met both Kagami’s parents, and now it was Kagami’s turn to meet Luka’s. If they approved of her, then she would accompany Luka to dinner later in the evening, so the two could get to know each other. While it had been presented to Kagami as a “go and see if you like him” affair, the undertone was clear, not liking him wasn’t truly an option. 
She wasn’t worried though, because, as usual, Kagami had a plan, and that plan included Marinette. “Please, Marinette!” she wheedled. “You just have to meet him once, and live up to my reputation. He won’t want to see you again and then we will both be off the hook.” Kagami paced as she talked, grinning down at where Marinette sat on her bed. “Or better yet, his parents might think you are too cold and unfeeling, and you won’t have to meet him at all!”
Marinette was hesitant, not wanting to lie to the poor man, who was undoubtedly just following his parents’ wishes, but Kagami wasn’t done, yet. “I can’t just go and tell him I’m in love with someone else, even though that’s what he deserves. It will raise too many questions, and things are hard enough for myself and Adrien to begin with.”
Finally, Marinette sighed, knowing that she would be able to let M.Couffaine down more gently than Kagami ever would. She would explain the situation to him, beg for his understanding and discretion in the matter, and she felt herself relenting. “Fine. I’ll meet him and pretend to be you, but you are going to owe me so big for this!”
Two days later, Kagami met Marinette at the Dupain-Cheng residence to help Marinette get ready. “And remember, Marinette, just act as cold as I am reputed to act, and you will never have to see him again.”
Marinette nodded, her smile wild and terrified, and Kagami felt the guilt rise at the way she was taking advantage of her friend’s good nature. Taking a deep breath, Marinette outwardly calmed her nerves and Kagami threw her arms around her best friend. “Thank you! You are the best friend anyone could ever ask for!”
“I know.” Marinette had schooled her features into Kagami’s passionless gaze, imagining herself alone and looking down on the world from a great height. “I’ll meet you at the park across the street afterwards and let you know just how much you owe me.”
After waving goodbye to Marinette’s parents, the pair left through the front door, Marinette climbing into the carriage as Kagami hurried the other direction to the Louvre where she was to meet Adrien. 
Marinette’s fingers worried the cuff of her dress as she rode in the silent carriage down to the overly large house on the banks of the Seine where the Couffaines lived. She introduced herself at the gate as Kagami Tsurugi, and her carriage rolled up the driveway to the front doors. She disembarked from the transport, and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to center herself. When she opened them again, a smiling, dark skinned woman was standing there, holding open the door. 
She introduced herself as the Couffaine’s assistant, Penny, and that the Couffaines were waiting for her in the drawing room. Nervously, Marinette followed behind, guilt twisting in the pit of her stomach when she was introduced as Kagami. Her eyes widened as she took in the pair of them in front of her, both of them in dark jackets and trousers, his with manic yellow stripes and hers a delicate pink. 
Keeping the emotions off of her face was difficult, but Marinette was absolutely terrified of the pair, who had not stopped bickering since she entered the room. Behind Marinette, Penny quietly cleared her throat, and the pair turned to stare at her. 
The room was silent for a moment and the woman tossed a long grey braid over her shoulder, offering an apology. “He just can’t help being wrong, ye see.” Her husband sputtered, but before he was able to say anything, she continued on. “It’s nice to meet you, Kagami. I doubt ye’ll recall, but I met you once before, when you were nothing but a tiny bundle of black hair and attitude in your ma’s arms. We talked then, your mother and I, about the politics of an alliance between our families.” A huge grin split her face. “Well, truth be told, yer Ma did most of the talking about the politics. I just agreed to see if ye’d be a good match.”
“Well, my, uh, my mother told me that I should come and meet with you. To meet your son.” <i> and run him off </i> she thought, although her smile stayed in place. 
The head of the Guild of Musicians ran his hand through wild purple hair. “And meet him you shall!” He threw back his head to yell for his son, but his wife smack upon his shoulder had him snapping his mouth shut. He looked at Marinette sheepishly. “Uh… later though.”
They chatted a little longer, Marinette warming up to the odd pair. She was surprised once again at how little she knew about the family, and just how little interaction occurred between unrelated guilds. There was a lull in the conversation, and Marinette heard ethereal music drifting in from somewhere deeper in the house. She froze, eyes wide, listening intently. At her sudden change in posture, Anarka, too, froze, frowning, until she heard the strains of the guitar floating through the air. 
She grinned at Marinette, one eyebrow raised. “Ye like that, Lass? That’s Luka. Go on down to the music room if ye want.” She pointed towards the door at the back of the drawing room. “Just go down that hallway, it’s the third door on the left.”
Marinette nodded and stood, nerves returning now that she realized it was time to meet Luka. She’d failed in the first challenge, his parents actually liked her, and she swore to redouble her efforts this time. “Anarka stood, but when her husband tried to join her, Anarka just pushed him back down. “Stay there and don’t scare the lass,” she admonished. Reaching a hand out to Marinette, she patted her on the shoulder. “Just ignore this one, Kagami. It was very nice meeting you. You’re nothing like the stories I’ve heard, nor your Ma, neither. Both of those things go a long way to earning my trust. If Luka likes ye, you're welcome in me house…” Her husband cleared his throat cutting her off, and she shot him an impatient glance. “Yer welcome in <i> our </i> house anytime.” Smiling and dipping her head to hide the fact that her cheeks were turning pink, Marinette did her best not to scurry from the room. She followed the hallway until she came to the source of the music; an open door leading into a sun filled conservatory. In the middle of the room, on a plush blue velvet chair, sat a young man, a few years older than herself, who sat, eyes closed, his dark hair flopping forward over his brow, strumming a guitar. 
The motion of his fingers looked effortless, like he wasn’t actually playing the guitar, instead coaxing the guitar to put forth the music of its own will. He was breathing slowly, body swaying slightly in time to the music, and Marinette took a few moments to study him. Luka had a soothing quality about him, something about his posture and his music invited her to come in and relax; it put her at ease in a way that she hadn’t felt since Kagami suggested this harebrained scheme.
Marinette felt guilt twist in her gut at that thought. She didn’t want to lie to Luka, but she had to keep up the charade until she convinced him to reject her. A little voice inside her head whispered that maybe she didn’t want him to reject her, but she stamped that voice down, knowing that she needed to do it, for Kagami’s sake. 
Something changed in the room, and it took Marinette a moment to realize that the music had stopped. Her eyes flew to the face of the young man, who had a soft smile on his face as he looked at her. “Hello. You must be Kagami. You survived meeting my parents, I see.” He chuckled softly, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. 
Marinette couldn’t help but smile along with him as he laughed, the sound warm and rich, and almost as musical as the notes he’s been playing on his guitar. Luka pulled his hand away and Marinette caught the remains of a dazzling smile that he quickly hid, his intensely blue eyes darting off to the side as a tinge of pink colored his cheeks. After flitting around the room, Luka’s eyes landed on the chair opposite his, and the color in his cheeks deepened. “Did you, uh, want to sit down?”
His voice was as calming as his music had been, and Marinette found herself just as mesmerized. She stumbled her way over to the chair, cursing her clumsiness, since Kagami was known for her grace, but Luka just smiled his dazzling smile and held out a hand to steady her. Their conversation started out stilted, Marinette continuously trying to remind herself that she was Kagami and not Marinette, but as Luka talked, she found herself fascinated, and her curiosity got the best of her. She relaxed and the conversation just flowed. Marinette felt relieved that she knew Kagami as well as she did, but as time wore on, she found herself being more herself and less her friend. 
A tea service was rolled in, and Marinette started, glancing at the clock and realizing almost two hours had passed since she’d entered his home, less than half an hour of that spent with his parents. Another hour passed as they ate and talked, and Marinette realized that she was more herself around Luka than she was even around Kagami. It wasn’t until a young woman with long dark hair and a rich purple dress knocked on the doorframe, that Marinette was made aware that she’d lost track of time once again.
The girl’s voice was soft and rich, much like Luka’s was, but while Luka breathed calm, this girl radiated nervous energy. “Ma said that Miss Tsurugi’s carriage is waiting for her outside.”
Luka smiled at the girl. “Thanks Juleka. I’ll walk her out.” As the girl scurried out of sight, Luka turned back to Marinette. “That’s my sister, Juleka. Don’t take her not hanging around personally, she’s really shy around people she doesn’t know.” He stood, extending his hand to her. “May I walk you out?”
Blushing prettily, Marinette slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and they walked out together. Standing on the front steps, Luka turned to her. “I’d like to see you again, if you’ll let me.”
“I’d like that,” Marinette breathed. 
Leaning down, Luka paused before brushing a kiss against her cheek. “I really like you, Kagami. More than I thought I could.” He blushed at his bold words, but his smile was soft and sweet. 
Marinette’s eyes widened slightly at the use of her friend’s name, but managed to keep herself from flinching. Her heart beat faster as she hurried down the steps and into the waiting carriage, turning to watch Luka as he waved goodbye. Once he was out of sight, Marinette slumped in her chair and cursed to herself. This was <i> not </i> how the evening was supposed to go. 
The carriage pulled up at the park opposite the bakery run by her parents, and hung back as Kagami said her goodbyes to Adrien. Together, and without a word, they walked back into Marinette’s house. 
Once they were ensconced in Marinette’s room, Kagami turned to Marinette. “So, what happened. Did you manage to scare him away?”
A dreamy look crossed Marinette’s face as she shook her head at Kagami, tapping her pointer fingers together. “Not exactly.”  Her cheeks tinged pink and she looked shyly at her friend. 
Kagami sighed and closed her eyes. “What happened?” she asked; curiosity, not censure in her voice.
“He’s…” Marinette hesitated. “He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. His parents are wild and chaotic. They’re incredibly nice, but somewhat overwhelming. Luka is nothing like that. He’s like his own center of calm.” Her smile softened, and she looked up at Kagami, eyes shining. “I really like him.”
Both girls sat quietly for a few minutes before Marinette reached over and grasped her friend’s hand. “How was your date?”
It was Kagami’s turn to blush. “We want to get married! He proposed to me today!” She reached under her shirt to pull out a delicate gold chain, with an engagement ring dangling from it. “We just need to figure out how to tell our parents.”
Marinette squealed and threw her arms around her friend. “That’s wonderful! I am so happy for you!!” 
The girls started talking about how beautiful the wedding was going to be, all the guests, and that it would be the event of the season. That night was for excitement, they would start planning how to deal with the parents tomorrow. When Kagami left, Marinette’s thoughts were in a whirl, all centered around the concept of love. That night, she dreamed of Luka. 
The next morning saw Kagami arriving shortly after the post, her eyes twinkling mischievously. She held an opened letter out to Marinette, her grin enormous. “Is it from Adrien?” Marinette asked with a grin. “Did he talk to his father already?”
Kagami’s smile only widened. “Better. It’s from Luka.” She drew his name out teasingly as she dangled the letter in front of Marinette. “And he wants to take you out Friday night!”
Marinette’s eyes grew round, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth, her cheeks staining pink. “Really?” she squeaked.
Smile softening, Kagami watched her friend. “You really like him, don’t you.”
Nodding, Marinette’s eyes looked at something Kagami could not see. “I really do. He truly is unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”
She thought for a moment, and then Kagami’s eyes lit up. “Write to him. You can send it to me with our morning correspondence, and I can send it along with the afternoon post. Your calligraphy is better than mine, we can just make a stack of envelopes with his name in your handwriting, and nobody at my house will ever be the wiser.” Kagami was practically bouncing with her idea, while Marinette sat still, eyes brimming with hope, their postures unconsciously mimicking the other. 
Finally able to read her letter, Marinette dashed off a response to Luka that they mailed from her house, since both girls were already there, accepting his offer to take her out. She suggested meeting at a little street fair that was happening that weekend.
The week crawled by for Marinette. She received a letter from Luka every morning, and sent a reply every afternoon. They wrote about everything and nothing, and Marinette treasured every word he sent to her. By the time Friday rolled around, she was jittery with nerves and excitement. Every passing hour seemed to last longer than the previous one, but the appointed hour finally arrived. She walked most of the way to the little street fair with Kagami, who was meeting Adrien at the fair. They parted, and headed for the separate street entrances that they were meeting their partners at. Marinette’s smile almost split her face when she caught a glimpse of Luka at the edge of the crowd, looking for her. His face lit up when he spotted her, pushing off the building he had been leaning on, and swiftly made his way over to her. 
They greeted each other with broad smiles and soft words, and Marinette tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow as they turned to enter the fair. They both delighted over the trinkets and treasures that they found in various booths, cooing over the exotic animals. Coming across a booth full of musical instruments, Luka delighted in showing Marinette how each of them worked, and the different sounds they produced. 
With all her attention on Luka, Marinette didn’t notice the little crowd that had gathered, listening in to Luka’s impromptu lesson, nor did she hear Adrien’s whine as Kagami tugged him away from the small group, begging to listen just a little while longer, but when Kagami reminded him of the situation, Adrien just sighed and followed her away. He’d ask his father if Luka could come over and show him all the different instruments. 
After they left the music booth, Luka blushing lightly at the attention they’d garnered, Marinette heard his stomach rumble. They’d been having such a great time, they’d forgotten to eat. Marinette smiled as she thought back to the afternoon. It had been pretty close to perfect. The only thing that marred the afternoon was the fact that Luka kept calling her Kagami. 
Laughing off the grumble of his stomach, Luka told them about this little tearoom he knew that was pretty close by that served some of the best pastries he’d ever had. Marinette was on the verge of agreeing, when Luka added, “It’s not surprising, though, it’s run by the heads of the Baker’s Guild, and they are in that position for a reason.”
At his words, Marinette froze. There was no way she could keep up this charade if they went to her parent’s bakery. Getting the wrong impression, Luka hurried to reassure her. “You’ve had their food before! The petit fours that were served the first time we met… they’re from this bakery.”
Marinette laughed, the sound filled with joy, rather than the hollowness she felt inside. Of course she remembered those petit fours… she’d been the one to decorate them! Her laughter petered off into a sigh, and Luka pulled her into a protected alcove. “We can go somewhere else if you would prefer.”
When she nodded, not yet trusting her own voice just then, Luka looked around them. “I think the food section is that way if you want to try some food from these carts.”
With a sigh of relief, Marinette nodded, this time with much more enthusiasm, and tucked her hand through Luka’s arm once more. They walked and talked for another hour, before Luka left Marinette at the Tsurugi’s carriage. He kissed her cheek softly, and she pushed up on her toes and kissed his cheek in return. Waving to him with a flutter of her fingers, Marinette stepped inside the carriage. She smiled out the window, and the carriage started to roll, Luka watching, hands stuffed into his pockets, a half-smile on his face. 
“He seems nice.” 
Marinette almost screamed as the voice behind her spoke, and whirled to face its source. Kagami cackled as Marinette pouted. “You scared me.”
“Well, he does seem nice. It’s not my fault you were too wrapped up in him to notice me sitting here.” She snickered, and Marinette joined in her laughter.
They each talked about their dates, and Kagami told Marinette that she and Adrien had a plan, promising to share details as soon as she could. 
The next morning, Kagami brought a letter inviting her to visit Luka’s home the following day. He had composed a piece of music that he wanted her to hear. Smiling, Marinette wrote him back, agreeing, but saying she had a previous engagement in the evening, so could they meet in the afternoon. Her parents had several cakes to decorate, and she had promised to help them, not that she could tell him that part.
Marinette sighed to herself as she hoped that Kagami would come clean with her mother soon so that she could be honest with Luka. The more she got to know him, the less she liked deceiving him. If Kagami hadn’t told her mother by the next week, Marinette decided, she would come clean with Luka, either way, and ask him to keep it quiet. She couldn’t wait to hear her name,her <i> real </i> name from his lips. 
She arrived at Kagami’s house early the next morning, before the post had even arrived, only to find her friend worked into a tizzy. “Adrien has a plan for tonight,” Kagami explained, “But I don’t know what it is, and it’s making me nervous. He’s going to send word this afternoon after he has talked to his father.”
Hugging her friend, Marinette sighed with relief. One more day and she would no longer have to lie to Luka. She smiled to herself and focused on calming Kagami down. When the maid entered with the mail, Marinette noticed Luka’s tidy handwriting on one of them, and it was all she could do not to snatch it off of the tray. Kagami took both letters, thanking the maid, and grinning at Marinette. Once the two of them were alone, Kagami handed Marinette the letter from Luka, while she clutched the other to her chest. 
Raising an eyebrow, Marinette paused before ripping into her own letter. “Adrien?”
Kagami blushed and nodded. The friends smiled at each other and blushed, and there were a few minutes of silence as they each read their letters, grinning at the pieces of paper in their hands. When they’d read their letters through twice, Kagami looked up at Marinette. “Adrien is going to talk to his parents that afternoon, and then come over and we will talk to my parents tonight.”
With a little squeal, Marinette bounced in her seat and clapped her hands. “I’m so happy for you! Please let me know how it goes!”
“Of course. You’ll be the first to know.” Kagami reached out to her friend. “Now… what are you wearing for your private concert?”
Blushing with delight, Marinette stood and twirled. She was wearing an ocean blue dress, with some of Marinette’s own embroidery on the bodice, musical notes in the same color of the dress that wrapped around her torso. Kagami smiled at her. “Some of your best work, Marinette!”
After a tortuously long wait, and almost no time at all, Marinette was walking up the front steps to Luka’s house. She was greeted at the front door and ushered out into the gardens by the Couffaine’s housekeeper, where she heard music floating from the gazebo. Thanking the woman and following the source of the music, Marinette paused in the open doorway, silhouetted by the sun, as she watched Luka play. Much as he had appeared that first day, his eyes were closed and he appeared lost in his music. 
The song changed after a few minutes, and the music struck Marinette at once. The notes spoke of nervousness and hope, almost immediately melting into joy and comfort. The hope remained as happiness blossomed through the notes, and Marinette could feel the love pulsing under every note. 
When the song was over, Luka opened his eyes, looking up at Marinette, her eyes blown wide and shimmering with tears; her hand covering her mouth. He watched her for a moment before he allowed a slow smile to spread across his face. “It’s called Kagami.”
The flinch was slight, and had he not been studying her face so closely, he would have missed it, but it flitted across her face for the barest moment, before her smile turned brighter. 
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” Marinette’s voice trembled as she looked at Luka, her smile enough to take his breath away. He patted the bench next to him as he set his guitar aside.
“Thank you. I wrote it for you.” He blushed and looked away, before clearing his throat and looking up at her. “Music has always been easier for me than words, but it is how I feel about you.” He turned to face her on the bench, his hand held out towards Marinette. Shyly, she reached out to take his hand, lacing her fingers through his. The pink that stained her cheeks matched the pink that stained his, and they smiled at each other, gazes locked and unable to look away, not that either of them was trying. 
Luka raised his hand, half reaching towards her before he snatched it back again, and then hesitated again. “May I… may I kiss you?”
At his words, Marinette swayed towards him, lips parting slightly, before breathlessly whispering, “Yes.”
Lifting his hand and stroking her cheek with his palm, Luka leaned in, his eyes never leaving Marinette’s, until his lips met hers in a soft kiss. The kiss lasted barely a moment before he pulled back again, but both of them were breathing heavier. A second kiss followed, and then a third, before they finally separated, putting a little physical distance between them before somebody spotted them. While Luka’s parents were more permissive than most, he had respect for her reputation and refrained from gathering her in his arms and kissing her senseless as he wanted. 
The afternoon flew by, and it was all too soon that Marinette was excusing herself for her previous engagement. She hurried home after receiving a final soft kiss from Luka, her lips chasing his as he pulled back, her hand running down his arm. “When can I see you again?” Luka asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 
“Not tomorrow.” Marinette thought of Kagami and her discussion with her parents that evening, expecting she would either be needed to celebrate or commiserate, depending on how the conversation went. “Maybe the day after? There’s something I really need to talk to you about.”
Luka agreed with a smile, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow as he walked her to the door. “The day after tomorrow then. Would you like to go to the museum? I hear they have a new history of fashion exhibit that you might enjoy.”
Marinette’s eyes lit up. “Certainly. But maybe we can meet in the park across the street first? I really do need to talk to you.” As if sensing his hesitation, she hurried to reassure him. “It’s just something I need for you to know about me before��” She trailed off, completing the thought in her head… <i> before I fall too deeply in love with you. </i>
She blushed, and he nodded, seeming to sense what she had left unsaid, clasping her hand for a moment before releasing it. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, then.” He smiled at her as she climbed into the waiting carriage, one of the public ones, which had arrived to pick her up. Once seated, she looked out the window and waved, her heart already feeling lighter, knowing that she only had to make it through one more day before telling Luka the truth. 
Arriving home, her parents questioned her on the use of a rental carriage, not that they minded, but she usually thought nothing of the half hour walk from their house to the Tsurugi’s, unless the weather was bad. Marinette looked from her mother to her father, their faces curious and slightly worried, and asked them to sit with her in the family room. 
When they were all comfortably seated, she told them everything, starting with Kagami falling in love with Adrien to the circumstances under which she met Luka, and how instead of letting him down, she found herself to be the one falling. Her parents didn’t say much as she spoke, but when Marinette broke down in tears at the guilt from lying to Luka, her mother moved to the settee next to her, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. 
“Marinette, I’m very proud of the way you have helped out your friend. I know Kagami’s parents are very strict, and the feud between the Tsurugis and the Agrestes has been simmering for far too long.” Sabine sighed, and wiped her daughter’s tears away with her free hand. “I just wished you’d come to us about it.” She waved her hand before Marinette could say a word. “Not with the Adrien thing, I understand that was not your secret to tell, but with this latest thing. Anarka and I were good friends once. Her father’s friendship with your grandmother is what led me to him.” Sighing again, she squeezed her daughter’s hand. “We lost touch after we both married, her life grew even more wild, and mine became more stable. We just grew apart.”
There was a wistful, far-off look in Sabine’s eyes as her thoughts wandered to the past. “I don’t know much about her children, but I know Anarka won’t hold the deception against you. She’d probably cheer you for it.” She chuckled slightly, and looked over at her husband, who had been suspiciously quiet. As she suspected, Tom was sitting there, a broad smile on his face, hands clutched in front of his heart, gazing dotingly at his daughter. A soft sigh escaped him, and his wife laughed. 
“Marinette, you said you planned to tell him the truth the day after tomorrow?” Sabine asked. When Marinette nodded, she continued, “Invite him to come over here, if he’s still willing, we would love to meet him.”
“I’ll bake him a feast!” her father crowed, his smile expanding. “He’ll never want to eat anywhere else!”
“He’s been here before.” Marinette interjected softly, a lips twitching into a soft smile. “He tried to bring me here once to feed me, when we went to the street festival. I panicked!” The three of them laughed, talking for a while longer, content in what the next few days would bring. 
The next morning found Marinette humming as she baked, thinking of Kagami and hoping things went well for her, as well as daydreaming of Luka. She was hanging up her apron and washing her hands, done with the morning’s chores as the post arrived. She snatched up the letter from Kagami, only for it to fall from nerveless fingers a few minutes later. 
<i> Kagami and Adrien had eloped. </i>
While she was happy for her friend, she thought she was going to talk with her parents, not run off. According to the letter, running away had been the plan all along. They’d each left letters for their families, and then left yesterday during the late afternoon. Marinette had probably still been at Luka’s house then. She sat bolt upright. <i> Luka. </i> Oh no. He was going to hear about this, and with Marinette having told him that she wanted to talk, she knew he was going to think the worst. 
Snatching up the letter, and exchanging her slippers for sturdier boots, Marinette ran. She paused only to yell to her parents that Kagami had eloped and she needed to go, then she was out the door, and running down the street. Heads turned to watch her, but Marinette didn’t care. She made it to the back of the house in under forty five minutes, walking at a respectable pace would have taken well over an hour. As she came within a street of the walled gardens in the back of the property, Marinette heard faint strains of a guitar. As the snatches became longer, the music seemed muted and sad, an inexplicable hurt winding its way around the notes, and piercing Marinette’s heart. 
She was closer now, almost close enough to call out over the wall to where she knew the gazebo to be, where she assumed Luka was sitting, even now, playing a melody so haunting that tears were burning at the corners of her eyes. On the other side of the wall, a door banged open, and the melody cut off, Luka’s name was called, and there was a flurry of activity. Voices too low for Marinette to make out the words were soft and then harsh, and with a bang the door shut again, and the garden was silent. Marinette stood, listening, hoping to catch a new song from the guitar, but no sounds floated over the wall from the now-empty garden. 
Reaching up to tidy her hair as she made her way around the compound to the front door, Marinette noticed for the first time the tears streaming down her face. She wiped them away, but more took their place. Breathing deeply, Marinette was able to bring her emotions under control, and walked up the front path to knock on the Couffaine’s door. 
Whether she had seen her coming, Marinette did not know, but the door was opened by Anarka herself. The expression on the woman’s face was at war with itself, part pride and welcoming, the other half angry. Marinette could easily imagine why the woman was angry with her, but the pride confused her. Marinette had done nothing that this woman would be proud of. Opening the front door wider, Anarka invited Marinette into the house. “Your mother is already in the drawing room.”
The woman’s clipped tone cut through Marinette’s confusion as to why her mother would be here. She still had the cakes and sweets for the next day to work on, before Marinette was tasked with the decorating, and besides, she didn’t think she’d said where she was going. 
Upon reaching the drawing room, Marinette reached a shaking hand out to open it, stepping quietly inside. All heads snapped towards her, but Marinette only had eyes for one. “Luka!” she cried, dropping to her knees in front of where he was seated. “I am so sorry. This is not…”
She was cut off by the other person in the room. Blind eyes still finding a way to bore through her, Tomoe Tsurugi somehow straightened her already rigid spine. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I should have known I would find you somehow swept up in my daughter’s foolishness.”
Luka’s eyes darted back and forth between the woman at his feet and the one seated across from him, a frown creasing his brow. 
Marinette looked up from where she was kneeling and met Luka’s eyes. “Kagami and Adrien fell in love when they met at dancing lessons. She didn’t know his last name at first, and by the time she did, it was too late.” Marinette hung her head. “They’ve been meeting up at museums and street fairs for the past year.”
“And when did you know they were going to elope?” Tomoe’s strident tone cut through the story.
“Not until I received her letter this morning. Kagami told me they were going to talk to you and your husband as well as Adrien’s parents yesterday. I told my parents last night, and was planning on coming clean with Luka tomorrow.” She turned back to Luka, her voice almost pleading. “It’s what I was planning on telling you tomorrow. I wanted to be there for Kagami today, whether things went badly or well for her.”
Luka was looking less stricken and more confused, so Marinette tentatively reached for the hand resting on his knee, covering it with her much smaller one. When he didn’t pull away, she curled the tips of her fingers around the side of his hand and squeezed before continuing. “When her mother set her up with you, Kagami didn’t know what to do. She begged me to come instead. I didn’t want to at first. I hate deception.” Tears filled her eyes as she said it, and she added bitterly, “not that you’d know it from how I’ve been acting.”
The slightest pressure from Luka’s hand on the back of hers, had Marinette lifting her head again. He nodded at her to continue. “I am so glad that I came, though. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.” Marinette blushed hard, the next words were barely above a whisper. “I fell in love with you, Luka, and I didn’t want to give that up, even if you thought I was someone else.”
Smiling ruefully, Marinette looked up at Luka. “Hi. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, head of the Baker’s Guild.” 
With a smile that was unsteady, but genuine, Luka bowed his head towards her. “It is very nice to meet you, Marinette. I am Luka Couffaine, son of Anarka and Clarence Couffaine, although my father prefers to go by his guild name of Jagged Stone.” The eyeroll that accompanied that statement was obviously one of long habit, and Marinette’s smile grew just a little. 
Looking down at where she was kneeling, Luka stood, her hand sliding from his, but he extended his other hand to help Marinette to her feet. “I would like to still meet with you tomorrow. We definitely should talk, but this morning has been a bit overwhelming for me, so please forgive me if I need to leave and think everything through.”
Marinette nodded, smile faltering a little, her words barely audible. “I am so truly sorry, Luka.”
He offered her a genuine smile, and then thanked Madame Tsurugi for coming with a bow. He turned to his mother, whom Marinette had not seen enter the room, exchanging a meaningful look with her, then turned and walked out the door. 
Sighing, Marinette turned to Kagami’s mother. “I owe you an apology, too, Madame Tsurugi. For what it is worth, I apologize for my part in the deception, although it wasn’t my place to come forward.”
To Marinette’s surprise, Tomoe actually smiled. “I don’t blame you. My daughter was always impulsive, and you have been a good influence over the years. The heart chooses who it chooses. I just wish it hadn’t been the son of someone so ruthless. But I appreciate your loyalty to my daughter.”
Her eyes flicked to Anarka as she tried to figure out what to do. To her surprise, the older woman’s face had lost much of its anger, and she was watching Marinette with a soft look. “I can see how you feel about my son, and I appreciate you coming here today.” She paused, appraising Marinette. “Sabine’s daughter, eh? I haven’t seen her in an age. Guess it’s time to renew our acquaintance.” She reached out and patted Marinette on the shoulder. “Yer a good lass. My boy will come around.” Anarka smiled and turned to Tomoe, dismissing Marinette. 
Heart both lighter and heavier, Marinette’s footsteps home were slower than her madcap dash to the Couffaine’s residence. Lost in her own mind, Marinette was home before she knew it. Her mother left her father in charge of the storefront, while she took Marinette into their living area. With her mother’s arms around her, Marinette broke down. 
The next morning, Marinette received a letter and she immediately recognized Luka’s handwriting. She smiled, hands trembling as she reached for the letter, unsure whether it would bite her, or soothe her heart. It took her two attempts to slit it open, and she had to take a deep breath before she could start breathing. 
By the end of the letter, Marinette’s smile was threatening to split her face. Her heart was lighter and so full of gratitude, as she fell in love with Luka a little more. 
Marinette arrived at the park early, but Luka had beat her there. He was pacing back and forth, and the smile that lit his face when he saw her had her dropping any sense of propriety and she ran to him. Her arms were around his neck, and his around her waist as he lifted her off the ground, spinning her. “Marinette?” 
“Yes.” Marinette’s voice was breathless as he set her gently back down on the ground. 
“I love you. I understand why you did what you did, but please don’t be afraid to tell me anything.” 
Marinette’s face was buried in his chest as she clung to him. “I love you, too, Luka. Thank you for understanding.”
He chuckled. “Looking back, there were definitely signs. You not wanting to visit your parents bakery. How could you not love them. Best bakers in Paris.”
Marinette laughed along with him. She started to say something several times, but stopped herself. Luka smiled at her, patiently. "Out with it, Marinette, I'm done with secrets."
She blushed heavily and looked at the ground. Luka put a finger under her chin and with the slightest hint of pressure, tilted her chin up. “I, uh, I really did love the song that you played for me, and uh, was wondering if you would rename it?” Her voice squeaked up at the end, and her face turned even more red. 
“Y-y-you don’t have to name it after me,” she stammered, “but it hurts to hear you calling something so beautiful Kagami.” She paused and her eyes blew open wide. “Not that Kagami isn’t beautiful, I just feel so guilty…”
Trailing off when the finger under her chin slid to her cheek, Marinette leaned into Luka’s touch. He smiled softly down at her. “I already changed the name to ‘Marinette’ because I felt the same way… the original name wasn’t the true name of the song. It’s the song of us, putting someone else’s name on it seemed dishonest.”
Luka offered his arm to Marinette. “I think I promised you a trip to the museum?” 
The brightness of her smile rivaled the wattage of the sun as she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. When he covered her hand with his, Marinette leaned into his side. “So, um, do you think you’d want to come meet my real parents sometime? My dad is dying to cook for you.”
Laughing, Luka turned his smile on Marinette. “How can I turn down an offer like that?”
58 notes · View notes
1oserjk · 4 years
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— full stop | 01
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* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*. * .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*.* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.
a series.
a messy divorce, unrequited feelings, and a five year old. 
* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*. * .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*.* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.
... ⇋ 02
x full stop masterlist | x masterlist 
* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*. * .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*.* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.
full stop | 01: he’s late
When you received the call that your daughter had been the last student in the school to be picked up, your heart slowed to a rate of disappointment - mainly to jungkook and to yourself for even trusting that he’d have his shit together far enough to be able to pick up his own daughter he barely managed to make time for. 
It was the third time this week for your ex husband to be late. At least for you, it wasn’t a surprise - he’s done this plenty of times during your marriage and even after, today being one of the prime examples of it. 
There’s a skip to your daughter’s step as she grapples onto your arm. Yeona is a bit clumsy with her walk but nevertheless giddy when she crosses the street with you. “Did you have a fun day today?” You excitedly ask. 
“Yeah!” She perks. “We painted with our fingers today!” Your nose scrunches in adoration when you hear the small lisp she accumulated from having the two of her front teeth she lost simultaneously two weeks ago. When you look down at her, the bright vest she fists tightly almost takes your eyes out completely. 
Lately, she’s been really obsessed with dressing herself in a monochromatic theme. Each day of the week was a new color. She claimed that she wanted to match the sun today when she practically busted through your bedroom - and with your groggy state, you managed to mumble out a questionable yes. And thus, became the bright yellow themed outfit she proudly wore that almost resembled a traffic cone. 
You gasp with feigned shock, “You did?” 
It only eggs her on to describe in full detail, “Yes! My teacher even complimented mine! Only mine!” 
“Really?” You reach out to slide a thumb over her soft cheek and you gush proudly, “My talented baby.” 
She bursts into giggles when you fully bend down to poke a few times at her tummy. Her small but strong arms do a great job at wrapping around your neck so she could smother her nose in your gentle scent. Your fingers massage at your scalp and drag all the way down through the length of her hair, deciding on the side that she’d need a trim soon from how long it’d been getting. 
When she finally reaches up for air, she giddily goes to tell you more. “I told Mrs. Kim that daddy was an artist too and she said that I’ll be able to take it home tomorrow so he could see. I want to show daddy what I made, can I?” 
Your throat constricts at the mention of her father and your eyes can’t help but widen. Fortunately, before she can notice the shift in your emotions, everything slowly loosens when you catch her hopeful expression. 
Brushing through her hair one last time, you assure, “Sweetie, it’s always okay to show daddy. You know he loves you, right?” 
“I know,” she smiles thoroughly. “I love him too.” 
You give her a big kiss on the cheek, “I’m glad, baby.” Pointing to the car, you prompt, “Why don’t we go home now? Your tablet is inside.” She brightens at that, slipping herself inside of the back of the car. 
When you finally get yourself situated inside with the air conditioning pumped up and the radio playing mindlessly in the background, you get a call. 
You eye the mirror above your head to cautiously watch your daughter. Being too absorbed in whatever toy unboxing video she watched, you doubted she’d pay any mind to your beckoning conversation with Jungkook. 
So you answer with a sigh, “Hey.” 
“I know I’m late,” he starts. “And I’m so fucking sorry.” 
“You’ve said the exact same thing the two other times this week, Jungkook,” you exhaustedly remind. “All I ask from you is to be present enough to pick her up towards the end of the week.”
“I know,” he sighs in regret. “I know, and I promise-“ 
“Look,” you interrupt. “Stop by my place and we can talk about it there. I can’t keep arguing over the phone, not when she’s here.” 
“Yeah,” he quickly agrees. “Of course, I’ll be there.”
-
You stare up at your ex husband, long locks that were close to caressing the top of his cheekbones with a tattooed arm and knuckles. 
Even with all of the intimidating piercings and dark clothing he carried himself with, Jeon Jungkook looks the same as the last time he stopped by to visit: young and boyish. And it seemed to be two characteristics you deemed as hard to get rid of, not when he looked this good.
Your hand tightens immediately around the knob when you meet eyes. 
“Hey,” he breathes out. 
“Hi,” you quietly manage to say back. 
“Can I..” He looks around some more, asking for entrance. Opening the door wide enough to get his bulky body in, you shuffle behind it, “Go ahead.” 
He strides to the couch, “Is Yeonie here?” 
Your arms crossed protectively against your chest while you trail behind him. “Yeah. She’s taking a nap, though.” 
His expression drops disappointedly, “That’s too bad, I’ve missed her.” 
You laugh fakely at that, “Enough to miss three days of perfectly fine time to spend with her? That’s rich.” 
His eyes close to blink harshly a few times, “_____..” 
“If no one says anything eventually, I don’t even think you’d be able to get it.” 
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again. “It’s been crazy with my schedule.” 
You scoff, “And you don’t think mine isn’t?” 
He stares back with guilt. 
“I’m a nurse, Jungkook. I can’t keep requesting to leave so early when my shifts just started! All of my colleagues look at me like I’m a kicked puppy when all I want to do is scream that I have a perfectly good father for Yeona, but I can’t,” your voice wavers. “Because you’re not there to prove it.” 
He sighs with a shuddering breath, resting his forearms against his thighs and dropping his head forward. “I’m sorry.” 
Running a hand through your hair, your other catches the cushion behind you when you lean back tiredly. 
“You know,” you begin slowly. “She finger painted today.” 
He looks up with softened eyes, “She did?” 
You nod. “She’s waiting to finish tomorrow so she could show you - even bragged about how you were an artist.” Your eyes can’t help but loom down to his arms and each design you used to kiss down on, now they sit there, glaring instead of holding any welcoming values - like it wasn’t your home anymore - and they were right, it wasn’t. 
He chuckles lowly. “That’s my girl.”
“Jungkook..” You whisper. His eyes shot up, almost with a hopeful expression, begging for you to say something about you - anything. He hasn’t had much of a chance to ask about how you were doing these days, he doubts you’d open up enough to even give him the chance. Everything had shifted now. Things were different. “She misses you.” 
“I - I miss her too.” Then, he buries his face in the palms of his hands, cursing at himself for being bad at the one job he had for himself: to be a good father. “_____, I miss her so damn much,” he manages to confess out to you and your heart starts to drag heavy. You knew fully well on how much Jungkook liked to pick at his mistakes. He wouldn’t let go until he knew he’s done morally right to prove it. 
“Hey..” You lead a hand up to his shoulder and you press down comfortingly. “I know your sad about not being there, and I know I’ve given you a hard time about it - but I’ll always forgive you.” 
That was the thing. You’ve always forgiven him. Every single time he managed to fuck up in any sort of way, after all of the yelling, the lecture, and the tension - you still gave him the chance to try again. 
He slowly picks his head up from out of his hands and he can’t help but lean more into your touch. Your thumb was unconsciously rubbing to ease the tension in his shoulders and you don’t stop until he’s given you a look you can’t decipher. Whatever it was, it was too weird for you to stay like that. 
Your throat clears, “Stay for dinner?” 
His forehead creases as his eyebrows furrow, “I - Huh?” 
You’re confused also, as if your reasoning for the offer wasn’t obvious, “Don’t you want to see Yeonie now?” 
It felt like cold water had slapped him in the face, bringing him back to reality that you weren’t inviting him for yourself, but he’d take the chance anyway, “Oh - Oh! Yeah, of course.” 
You stare oddly when you slowly stretch your legs to stand up, “Why don’t you stay here while I wake her up..” 
He’s quick to stand with you, “Actually - Uh - I was wondering if I could come with? If I could wake her up too..?” 
You blink. “Oh, sure! It’s - Er - This way,” as if he doesn’t know the layout of the house he used to live in, of course he knew where his daughter’s room was. 
You rush up the stairs with reddened cheeks, something you were glad Jungkook couldn’t see. 
The bright white LED lights blink at her door with the words Yeona written across a painted board Jungkook had the chance of designing. You personally asked him to. 
When the door is opened up, you’re both met with the same room Yeona loved to call her own. Especially when daddy took a big part of it. 
“Same as always,” you whisper to him. 
The bedroom is painted in all white, except for one particular wall she saved for her father. He stares at the wall opposite from her bed that was painted all up in flowers. 
His footsteps are quiet when he lands himself on the other side of the room, tracing his fingers across the lines of some of the lilies and roses. All different types of breeds of flowers take up the whole wall, being approved by the princess herself of course when Jungkook presented her a book full of them, letting her choose to her desire on all of the flowers she wanted shown. 
However, there was a spot saved for you. A small part of a cherry blossom tree was drawn delicately on the left corner where the window had the chance of letting sun shine through it, as if it’d become real enough to sprout through the walls and outside if anybody had the imagination to believe in it enough. Actually, you had drawn it after one time he found sketch papers full of soft colorings of it on his desk, claiming yourself that it was the only thing you were decent at drawing at. 
You lacked in knowledge to realize that the time that you were together with Jungkook, he saved a corner of the room for you to blossom in by your own fingers. 
“I don’t think she’ll ever grow out of this room,” you let out a small laugh, “she loves it too much.” 
“I’m glad,” he says with a smile turned to you. You curse the way your heart picks up all over again. “Though I might have to come back some time to retrace some of the lines — they’re fading.” They weren’t, but it’d be a good enough excuse for him to come by again. 
“I think she’d like that.” You weren’t sure if you were speaking more for yourself or for you daughter. “Even better if she could help.” 
“Oh, definitely,” he’s quick to say. “With those talented little hands of hers made with my DNA? Definitely.” 
You snort, “She’s mine too, you dork.” 
He knew that very well too, every single time he looked into the eyes of Yeona, he saw you. 
“Yeah,” he stares. “She is.” 
You deliver the same intensity back and managed to get lost in some of the depth of his orbs, falling back in the state you hated to be in. You couldn’t help it. At least, not right now. 
“Mommy?” A small voice calls out, and you rip yourself away from his gaze, letting your eyes fall back to your groggy daughter. You both go to rush in to the shriveled sheets and the small frazzled body. 
You can’t help but giggle seeing most of her hair stick up just from a small little nap and go to brush it down for her sake. She smacks her lips tiredly, not even noticing the tall figure standing right beside you. 
Finally, her eyes go to open and she stares for a few seconds before widening. 
“Is it my birthday?” 
It’s silent before Jungkook bursts into chuckles. 
“Baby, what are you talking about?” You laugh, cradling her closely to your chest. “Daddy is just here for dinner.” 
She’s still confused, “So it is my birthday?” 
You cackle, “Sweetie, no. He’s just here for a visit. Right, Daddy?” 
Your head tunes up and you find Jungkook with wide eyes. You tilt your head curiously until you gasp in sudden realization. 
You’ve just called your ex-husband, Daddy. 
Sure, you’ll indirectly name Jungkook as “daddy” a few times but never ever have you ever gone out of your way to call him it directly. This was new to both of you. 
Clearing your throat, you pinch at the side of his thigh until he hisses, “Right?” 
“Ah! - Y-Yes baby, I’m here. Daddy’s here,” he adds to push annoyingly and if it weren’t for the five year old clinging onto you so tightly, you would’ve kicked at his ankle harshly. 
“So why don’t you tell da-“ Your throat automatically clears when you manage to catch yourself and he snickers. “Dad all about your day while I go and look at what we have that I can cook, okay?” 
She nods eagerly. 
Before you can even reach out the door, you hear Yeona call excitedly, “Daddy, I’ve missed you!” When you turn, you find her whole body wrapped around one of his legs. 
You look one last time with a smile while he settles her back onto the bed to deliver tickles and kisses.
You’ve missed this. 
-
After dinner, the couch was quickly occupied by the two who pleaded to watch a movie to make Jungkook’s stay a little longer. However, you didn’t join the movie time Jungkook suddenly offered. Your plan was to stay behind and clean up while they spent some more time together. After, you’d stay in your room until they finished. 
Jungkook didn’t allow any of that, patting the spot next to him for you to come sit with. You hesitated with arms that hugged yourself protectively. 
Shaking your head, you give him a polite smile while it only furthers the confusion for him, “I better go clean.” 
Quickly rushing to the kitchen, you make a good effort at scrubbing aggressively on the dishes that were left out. 
It took you a year to finally get over him, to convince yourself that your divorce was the right thing to do, but every time you land yourself in a situation that involves him, your feelings completely revert back to your younger and oblivious self. 
Even all the way from today, he still continues to make mistakes somehow and in some frustrating way. 
In all honesty, You could’ve made it harder on him, put some boundaries and leave him wallowing in his own guilt, however he was Yeona’s father, the absolute light of her life. You wouldn't dare take that away from her. 
You didn’t have the time or ability to be selfish in this situation. So you’d do what you do everyday, letting him completely bombard your life with the sole thought of the both of you - together. 
It was close to nine when Yeona felt drowsy. She waited until the movie credits rolled before she allowed herself to close her eyes, which was perfect since it was close to her bedtime anyway. 
He calls your name when he doesn’t find you at first, searching through your bedroom. 
“In here!” Your voice muffled between the walls. 
He has to walk a little further towards your walk-in closet to find you sitting on the ground, feet tucked underneath you, putting away the clothes you’ve just folded. You’ve slipped on something more comfortable during the time of your own, a simple hoodie that was most likely three times larger than you that reached just the tops of your thighs. His eyes narrow on the back, a stubborn stain he remembers putting on the hoodie he coincidentally left here. Whatever it was, he doesn’t mention it. You looked too good in it to disrupt the fact that it was his. He doesn’t mind anyway. 
His dense boots clunk on the surface as he lets out an airy laugh, “She’s knocked out.”
Your back twists to face his towering form who leans close to the door. 
“Oh, I should bring her up.” A hand stops you from getting up. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “She’s already in her room.” 
“Oh,” you slump back down. “She must’ve been clinging onto you, huh.” 
He chuckles again, “Yeah, she was practically wrapped around my hip.”
Your eyes crinkle when you let out a soft laugh, and for some reason, it takes some of the weight off his shoulders. 
“I wrapped up some of the stew we had tonight for you to take back.” 
“There was a lot of leftovers though? I’m not sure if I could finish-“ 
You tsk, “It’s for you and the boys. It’s enough food for everybody in the shop.” 
There’s a twinkle in his eye. Always so selfless, taking care of everybody without even realizing it. You didn’t have to make dinner for him tonight. You didn’t have to let him stay here. You didn’t have to pack everything up for him and his friends. You didn’t have to do anything, Yet you did everything. 
“I’m glad you came,” you say honestly, interrupting his loaded thoughts of how angelic you truly were, and if Yoongi were here, he’d smack him behind the head for being so stupid in losing someone like you. “She likes it when you come.” 
His hands dig into his pockets and he rubs at his fingers unconsciously in a nervous manner, “I - uh - Then I should come by more often.” 
Shrugging you pick up a shirt to fold. Neatly, your hands are quick with the piece and it stirs something within him. For two reasons actually. The domesticity and feeling — but also for the fact that Jungkook went crazy about laundry, weirdly enough. You did everything right. 
“You’re welcome anytime - You’ve always been.”
His heart goes erratic. Why was it so easy for you to say such things like that? 
“I was actually planning to ask why you didn’t join us for the movie - Yeona would’ve liked it.” 
It takes you a while to answer. Standing with a huge bundle of Yeona’s clothes to set on the bed to put away for later, you walk further into the room while Jungkook meekly follows. You huff tiredly when they’re all laid out. When you meet eyes with Jungkook who waits patiently, your cheeks puff out. “I just - I don’t want to give her any ideas — about us.” 
“Oh,” is all he says with downcast eyes. 
“Yeah, it’s better after what we put her through when we said we’d be divorcing - you know? It’s just better for all of us so things don’t get messy and she doesn’t assume anything crazy, like we’d get back together or something.” 
“Yeah,” he mumbled. He hated the way you said it, absolutely despised it. Like it’d be impossible — but was it? 
He tentatively takes a look around, spotting any changes you might’ve made ever since he moved out. You’ve changed the bed sheets and curtain colors, but you’ve always done that when the seasons changed. There’s a candle being burned on top of the nightstand that used to be his. He remembers a time when you’d specifically let him know that the other side was definitely yours. But oddly enough, there’s more pillows on where he used to lay. 
You’d never let him know that it was only a lame way to mimic some warmth on the other side. Hence the stupid candles and pillows. In short, you were lonely and touch deprived. 
Rubbing up your own sides, you prompt, “Anyway, you should go home now. It’s getting late.” 
Checking the watch that adorned his wrist, it was indeed. He needed to head back before the tattoo shop closed to finish some of his sketches that needed to be done this week. 
“Yeah, I - uh - I guess I’ll see you soon?” 
You smile, “Definitely.” 
“Well then.. Have a good night.” 
No goodbye kiss, no hug, and no confessions to be made. It was simply, real life. Unfortunately so. 
“Goodnight, Jungkook.” 
* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*. * .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*.* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.
pls give this couple lotz o love. they r dumb n clueless but aren’t we all.
* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*. * .✫*゚・゚。.☆.*。・゚✫*.* .✫*゚・゚。.☆.
893 notes · View notes
neocity-sarai · 4 years
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Tattoos Together
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❈ main concept: childhood best friends to lovers!
❈ pairing: mark lee x reader
❈ alerts: fluff, angsty angst, language, parties, mentions of drinking/smoking, mentions of the dreamies/other idols
❈ song reference: “tattoos together” by lauv
Vancouver has always been home. Since you were a child, Vancouver has been the place to be. Years of dinners in the city, biking around Granville island, and field trips to the Victoria gardens were the norm, just little secret spots you go to when you want a getaway- an escape from school, work, whatever it is you’re doing. At age 15, the Lees moved into the light blue house next to yours, the one with overgrown weeds in the yard. The one with the crooked, leaning mailbox in front of it- daisies painted on the rusty metal. A young girl, an artist, used to live there until she moved to Paris for her next exhibit- leaving the lonely, periwinkle house behind. That day the Lees moved in, your parents baked more muffins than usual (on purpose) so they could welcome our new neighbors by enticing them with food. The saying goes that a way to a person’s heart is through their stomach right? When dad is done packaging them up into a neat little box, he shoves it into your hands, “Y/N. I hear the Lees have a son about your age, go introduce yourself.”
Glaring at your father, you set the box that was tied with a small yellow ribbon on the table before saying, “I’m sure they can manage just fine without the muffins. Why do we have to go greet them now? they’re probably tired from moving.”
Mom gives you a stern look, her jaw tightening, “Don’t be silly, it’s a nice gesture. Come back before dinner is ready.”
Before you can even protest, your parents are shoving you out the door, still careful not to crush the perfectly wrapped box. Stepping over the stairs, you finally manage to make it to the door. Here goes nothing? The cherry red door swings open lightly after you linger my finger-tip on their doorbell, opening up to a pretty woman- her facial features defined of asian descent. Her dark hair is tied into a loose braid, her pink sweater tucked into the waistband of her culotte pants. The woman smiles at you, the corner of her lips upturned, “Ah- you must be Y/N. I just got a call from your mother.”
You try to hide the shaking of my hands, handing her the box of warmed muffins, “Uh-hi Mrs. Lee. My parents made some muffins to welcome you to the uh- neighborhood.”
The woman’s eyes crinkle until her eyes stretch thinly, “That’s so nice of you! Thank you, I’m sure Mark will enjoy these!”
You question,“Um- Mark?”
Her laugh is light and airy, “My son-Mark! Wait here, I’ll get him.”
You wave my hands at her, motioning my refusal, “No worries, I-I have to get going for dinner..”
She doesn’t wait to listen to my words before turning away from the door to scream Mark’s name. A few minutes later, a boy wearing a dress shirt over his black t-shirt comes stumbling down the stairs, a pair of black headphones hanging off his neck. His glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as his jet-black hair sits as a messy pile on his head. It looks like he hasn’t combed it in days. Mark shouts, “What? What did you need mom?”
Mark’s mother clutches him by the arm, shoving him into my view, “Meet y/n. She’s the daughter of the family next door.”
At first, no words come out of Mark’s mouth, his doe, boyish eyes as wide as saucers. Mark’s mother hits him in the back, causing him to cough abruptly, “Uh-yeah-my name’s Mark. W-what’s your name?”
Mark’s mother laughs again, leaning down to whisper into his ear, “I already said her name is y/n!”
Redness creeps up to Mark’s cheeks, his nose tinted a slight shade of rose as his dark irises bounce everywhere but at me.
You smile anyway, “It’s y/n.”
He gives me a small smile and a nod, eyes set on the ground. His mother speaks up again, “I’m really sorry y/n, my boy’s really shy around pretty girls…”
Mark lightly hits his mom in the shoulder, “Mom! Don’t say that! You’re embarrassing me!”
His face is as red as a tomato, glasses sliding farther down his nose only for him to push them up with the tip of his index finger. I laugh at their cute relationship, holding out a hand to Mark, “It’s nice to meet you. I hope we can be friends?”
Mark stutters once more, his eyes wild with energy, “I-i’d like that very much-h, yeah.”
After you tell Mrs. Lee goodbye, you give Mark a nod before turning back on to their driveway. The both of them stand in the doorway, Mark’s voice reprimanding his mom in the house behind me. Maybe it wasn’t so bad meeting the Lees after all. That night, you go to bed, replaying the vision of Mark’s embarrassed smile in your mind.
Age 18  (senior year)
The next several years breeze by. Ever since Mark Lee enrolled into Everlane high, he wasn’t as shy of a freshman compared to the day you met him all those summers ago. Over the years, he grew a lot taller, his face a lot mature, yet still adorably awkward at the same time. He became a smart student, one favored by many of the science teachers- causing his friends (Jeno and Jaemin) to roll their eyes playfully whenever Mrs. Scofski would praise Mark for solving a chemical equation on the white-board. Mark was a basketball captain along with his best friend Hyuck, the two always tag-teaming during the school’s games. Due to Renjun’s forcing, Mark joined the student body as a reputable member. He became a biology tutor for kids who had found science class difficult or just fooled around without paying attention (Jisung and Chenle being two of those kids). Quickly, Mark was showered as Everlane’s golden boy, your neighborhood’s ideal son. He was doted as smart, popular, and mr. perfect to all the girls in the area- no matter how much he always denied it when you told him so. After your first meeting, your parents would frequently eat together, alternating households. The Lees also force Mark to walk you home from school, in fears that you would be kidnapped by a random stranger. At least he was good for one of many things- telling you that he’d swing his basketball at any person who would come even close to you.
Most days after your homework sessions, you’d plan new adventures with each other. your week went like this: on Mondays, you went walking along the water, skipping rocks on the bay until the sun went down and could see the glitters of the city sky-line. In the spring, the sky would melt from a tangerine orange color into a musty silver. On Tuesdays, you’d get clam chowder at Phil’s on 2nd avenue, Mark always ruined his shirt ( you would forbid him to wear white on Tuesdays) and then you’d sit on this abandoned rooftop above an old department store. Up there, the air always felt cold so that you would have to blow your warm breaths into your hands, lean your heads on each other’s shoulders as Mark let out his high-pitched laughs. On Wednesdays, it was maple waffles before school in Gas town, the steaming clock chiming delicate music by the hour. Thursdays were meant for taking stupid photos, listening to dusty mixtapes, and hanging out with the rest of your friends. Last Thursday, you would all go to the Capilano suspension bridge and sit on a treehouse’s edge- causing Hyuck to scream from the heights. Jaemin always quieted him down with a bone-crushing hug or a playful kiss, earning a look of disgust from Renjun. You always wanted gelato after that. On Fridays, all of you would stay in for a movie night at either Mark’s house or yours- Jeno punching Chenle to stop him from making fun of the ghosts in the horror movies you’ve been watching. It never works. Saturdays were like Mark’s public appearances at Everlane high’s party scene, one call and you all would be at someone’s house party. You’d never really enjoyed them though: too many people, too much dirty dancing, and the burning stench of vodka stung your nose. The only reason  you would stay is for Mark and the boys. Sundays, your family and Mark’s get together for either dinner or lunch- switching off every week. Your parents would even play a betting game to choose who gets to wash dishes, Mark groaning every time his family loses rock-paper-scissors. Spending time with the people you loved made the days go by faster as you never particularly had bad days in the extreme. Piles of homework and grumpy teachers didn’t hold a candle to what you’d get to do every day- if it meant spending time with Mark. When you go to bed each night, you would feel content- happy, even.
Monday
You still think back to the moment when the boys were eating lunch in the cafeteria, like you did everyday. Chenle was talking about how he’d earn himself detention because he was messing around with chlorine in chemistry in order to make Jisung laugh.
“You’re such an idiot, Chenle. That’s going on your record, you know?” Jaemin scoffs.
Holding his sandwich in one hand, Jeno sweeps his coffee-colored bangs out of his eyes, “What do you expect? it’s Chenle- it’s like he’s powered on candy all the time.”
Chenle slurps up his gummy worms in an exaggerated motion, “I’ve already been through 6 packs of these since this morning. I feel so sick.”
Narrowing his eyes, Hyuck rests his chin on the palm of his hand as he pouts his lips, “Poor baby, eat more and you’ll be blowing up the toilet in no time!”
Chenle squints his eyes at the blond-haired boy, tossing a gummy worm at him, “Hyuck! Stop it!”
Hyuck continues to laugh as he clutches his stomach, Jisung stealing the candy from Chenle’s fingers before stuffing it into his mouth. I pull Hyuck up from his side, “Hyuck, you’re going to fall, sit up!”
Due to his lack of breath, Hyuck stares into my eyes, his golden irises gleaming, “You’re here to catch me though.”
You push him back down, palming my hand onto his face, “Stop reading cheesy rom-com lines. It’s so not cute, cringey at that.” Before Hyuck can finish whining, we’re interrupted by Mark plopping his food tray on the table. Jaemin says, “Someone’s late. Where were you?”
Mark looks like he’s out of breath, heaving and panting as he cards his fingers through the crest of his raven hair. “You guys aren’t going to believe this but, I think Cassandra likes me.”
Jaemin raises a skeptical eyebrow, “You mean Cassandra as the cheerleader who got kicked off the team for drinking last year?”
Suddenly, you stop paying attention to the conversation anymore. All you feel is the weight of your heart sink, my limbs feeling heavier at your side. Hyuck looks at you, noticing your fallen expression before clutching your hand under the table, giving it a comforting squeeze. It seems like Jeno sees it too because he glances from you to Mark as Mark excitedly explains his story. “Yeah, I was just finishing up some tutoring with Roberto from last period and Cassandra gave me her number after that! Isn’t that sweet?”
Jaemin nods disinterestedly, “Yeah, sweet I guess.”
Among the group, you have only ever admitted your feelings for Mark to Hyuck because he cornered you about it one day. Yet, it seems like Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun have caught on from their pitied faces. Mark drones on about how “totally cool” and how athletic he thinks Cassandra is. The difference is you don’t play any sports and you don’t slap coats of makeup on your face every-day before school,  nothing like Cassandra. You shake your head at the ping in your heart- a small glimmer of hope that Mark would ever feel the same about you. By the time lunch is over, classes feel longer than usual. They drag on, your teachers’ words in one ear and out the other. You text Mark that you have to stay over for school so he can walk home without you- a blatant, utter lie. Instead, you opt to put my headphones in and take the long route home. Plopping on to the surface of my comforter, you hear the familiar ring of Mark’s text tone.
[2:55 P.M.] (Marcus Lee <3) Y/n? Did you get home okay?
[2:55] Yeah, I did. Thanks Mark.
[2:56] (Marcus Lee <3) Hey, are you okay? You seemed a bit down today? Like you know you can tell me anything right?
[2:56] Yeah. I know. I’m just a bit more tired than usual. Stayed up last night writing Mr. Gillion’s paper..
[2:57] (Marcus Lee <3) hahahah ewww. That doesn’t sound fun… Do you want to go into town and get churros later?
[2:58] I think I’ll pass today, I got some homework to finish. I hope you have a good day though :)
[3:00] (Marcus Lee <3] hahaha okay. I guess I’ll have to take my mom on a churro date then hahah. See you tomorrow! ;)
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hang out with Mark. Still, you couldn’t forget about the way Mark’s eyes sparkled when he talked about Cassandra, the way his voice cracked from the excitement of talking about it. How can you expect him to know? To reciprocate? It’s not like you were dating, you have no right to be jealous of Cassandra- a pretty girl, someone who had football players falling at her feet. Even if you had told Mark the truth, what if he didn’t feel the same? It would make these awkward, not to mention with your friend group. You shouldn't.
Tuesday
In all honesty, you had forgotten about yesterday’s lunch conversation. That was until the reminder hits you like a slap to the face when you see Cassandra’s arms wrapped around Mark’s neck as he laughs into her shoulder. Renjun and you had been walking to art class, the crack in your heart widening by the second. They fit so well, the way Mark’s basketball jacket matches Cassandra’s cheerleading uniform, the way his teammates and her friends hang out together in a pack. Renjun whispers to you, “Are you okay?”
You nod at him, trying to conceal your emotions, “Just fine, let’s head to class.”
When you pass Cassandra and Mark along with their cluster of friends, Cassandra’s voice comes out in a squeaky tone, “Hey, y/n.” When you turn to look at the pair, you see Cassandra’s hand daintily resting on Mark’s stomach, his eyes wide as saucers when he realizes you and Renjun are in front of him. You hear Renjun mutter an ‘ugh’ after curtly waving to them. Mark leaves Cassandra’s grasp, motioning towards you both, “You guys going to art? I’ll walk with you-”
Before you can answer, Cassandra wraps her thin arms around Mark’s waist, “We have to go help Felix with the party stuff remember?”
Mark scratches the back of his neck before glancing back at her and you with Renjun, his mind in a state of conflict. To make it easier for him, you smile at him, “You go, looks like you’re busy.”
Walking faster, Renjun drags you by the arm as we breeze past the crowd of athletes and cheerleaders. Renjun rolls his eyes again, “I don’t get why he likes her so much, they haven’t even been friends for that long and you’re right-”
You cover a hand to his mouth, “Renjun, it’s okay. I’ve accepted it by now.” You try to convince yourself at the very least.
After art class is done, lunch time seems to come in a hurry. Everyone takes their usual seats, Hyuck on your right with Renjun on your left. Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung sit around you three in a circular formation. Jaemin speaks first, “So, what, are Mark and Cassandra dating now?”
Jeno shrugs his shoulders before stuffing a quarter of a cookie into his mouth, “Don’t know and don’t care.”
You say, “Looks like it, they were pretty intimate in the hallway this morning.”
Renjun and Hyuck make disapproving faces, Renjun quips, “I don’t know. I feel like this is happening so fast and he told me that he really-”
“Shut up!” Hyuck screams at Renjun, throwing a limp french fry at him.
“Ew, what the hell was that for?” Renjun’s eyebrows are furrowed with disgust, patting the fabric of his white denim jacket from any salt crumbs.
Hyuck’s eyes go wide  as he makes a zipping motion on his lips, his blond hair gleaming under the dim lights, “Don’t say it- she needs to hear it from him!”
Renjun shoots back, “But it’s so obvious, what difference does it make?”
“What are we talking about?” Chenle’s face contorts with confusion, Jisung looking at him for any hints.
Jaemin glares at the pair, “Shh, let’s just all move on.”
You say, “I’m with Chenle, what are we talking about?”
Hyuck places a firm hand on my shoulder, his honey blond hair casting shadows on his forehead, “Nothing, it’s not important.”
As you eat, you spot Mark walking over to all of you, his black backpack slinged over one shoulder before setting his food down. “Hey, guys. We can squeeze in two right?”
Hyuck looks at Mark, his eyes furrowing with bewilderment, “Two?”
“Hey guys!” Cassandra’s preppy figure pops out from behind Mark. She looks more done up than before: red lipstick, long platinum-streaked hair in a slicked pony-tail, and the tightest cheer-leading uniform she could fit herself into. She plops herself down in between Mark and Hyuck, taking off the container of her salad before looking around our table. I sense Renjun and Hyuck give me a look while the other boys continue to eat in silence.
“So what did you guys do today?” Mark asks. Jaemin gives him a short response while Jisung explains how the class pet mouse made it’s escape during second hour, earning a chuckle from Mark. You get an odd feeling in your stomach when Cassandra looks at Mark so lovingly at your lunch table. The boys’ dynamic seems almost disrupted every time Cassandra butts in to say that she doesn’t think Jeno’s jokes are funny. As lunch finishes up, the school bell reverberates through the cafeteria walls- a signal for the next class period.
The next class is statistics with Mr. Midas. Out of the group, Mark and Jaemin are the only ones in the same class as you  but it doesn’t help that they’re seated as farway as possible. On the bright side, you’re seated next to Chan, one of Mark’s basketball teammates. Over the course of the year, Chan has always been a kind deskmate by helping you when you’re confused with a problem or sharing his study guide with you. Sometimes you notice he scoots closer to explain a formula and asks you if you’re uncomfortable with his sudden closeness, to which to his relief, you always reply no. Chan is just as handsome as Mark, someone well regarded in the school. No one could resist his flirty charm, the way his chestnut hair curls to one side of his forehead and the way his hoodie falls past his waist a bit. You discover how Chan is really passionate about producing music and running your high school’s channel as a radio dj. When Chan smiles, it makes you happy to see how his eyes crinkle into crescent moons, and how his teeth gleam white when he smiles about the flower you drew him at the corner of his notes.
“Are you doing okay, y/n?”
You give a reassuring nod, “I’m doing okay Chan. Thanks for asking.”
He quirks up his brow, a scar slashing it at the end, “You don’t look okay though. Listen, if you don’t want talk about it, you’re all good, I just-”
Pausing him with the hold of your hand,  you continue, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about it.”
He gives you affirmation, you say, “Have you ever felt unrequited love?”
Chan shakes his head no, leaning back in his chair, “Maybe when I was younger but not now? I’m truly sorry y/n. Whoever it is, anyone who doesn’t see how funny and beautiful you are doesn’t deserve you period.”
You hold your tongue for a bit due to the fact of Chan’s comment catching you off guard. Freezing, he realizes the bluntness of his words, “Oh man, you just said unrequited love and I biffed it right? I didn’t mean it that way-no, wait. You are funny and very pretty so, uh-yeah.”
Bursting into laughter, you put a hand to your mouth causing Cassandra and Mark to look at you from across the room. Soon enough, you tear your eyes away from the students staring at you to focus your attention on Chan. He’s laughing too, his voice full of brightness and mirth. You respond, a light cloud of pink floating your cheeks, the room feeling a bit warmer, “I really appreciate that Chan. Thank you for making me smile today.”
A smirk graces Chan’s face as he says, “Happy to do it, whenever you want really.”
Statistics goes by extremely quickly when you’re sitting next to Chan- it’s like he’s telling you a couple of jokes and then it’s over. As the bell rings, Chan nudges you with his elbow as he packs up his bag, “So, I uh-this friday, we’re having our championship game and this party after? I was wondering if you want to come?”
You hesitate, thinking you might have plans with Mark, yet you decide he would probably hang out with his girlfriend over you anyway.
“I’d love to come. On one condition.”
Chan raises his eyebrows, “And what’s that?”
“You have to win the game.”
Chan throws up his hands almost hitting you in the process, “Well, duh! I’m not going to let you down, I promise.”
Friday
For the past couple days, you haven't heard from Mark. No texts, no calls, and no plans out in the city. You were hurt that the boy you’d call your best friend would ignore you just because he got a new girlfriend, your years of friendship overlooked just like that. When Friday rolls around, you attend the Everlane versus Brisbane championship basketball game. You decide that you’re there to cheer on Chan, the boy who’s taller than the rest, his purple jersey hanging against his muscular frame. You spot Cassandra giving Mark a kiss on his cheek on the court, you have to look away at the sight. By the next hour or so, you’re surprised at how long Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin have been screaming. Each of them held a poster for each Hyuck, Jeno, and Mark- their jersey numbers adorned with dollar store glitter and messy handwriting. When Mark makes a slam dunk in the basket, the crowd goes ear-deafeningly wild, cheering out Mark’s name like a repeated mantra. Shortly after, Hyuck makes an attempt to pass the basketball to Mark; the ball missing Mark’s hands before Chan dribbles it to their opponent’s basket. The cheerleaders dance to the thrum of the crowd screaming Chan’s name over Mark’s, causing Mark to grit his teeth with irritation. For a while, the back and forth of swaying bodies goes on until the Everlane team makes the last shot before the final countdown. When Jeno makes the last point, you’re certain you’ve lost your hearing by then. The cheers ring in the gym, causing the alarm to blare with victory. After everyone exits the gym, you see Mark, Chan, and Jeno being tossed into the air in a sea of fellow players and short-skirted girls as pompoms explode upwards. You decide to wait with Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin in the empty parking lot, waiting for Renjun to pull his car around. Jeno and Hyuck jog to you all first, their basketball duffels hanging from their hands, bodies are drenched with sweat. Chenle says, “That’s some fine work out there gentleman if I do say so myself.” Hyuck does his signature handshake with Chenle, a reckless grin smeared across his face, “I knew we’d win. Brisbane can’t take down the undefeated.”
Jeno gives him a firm nod, slinging his arm around a pleased Jaemin. You smile at the boys, “Congratulations guys, you all killed it on the court.”
Hyuck and Jeno smash you in a sweaty hug, “Aw, thanks y/n. You did well cheering for us.”
You laugh, “Get off, you guys are sweaty!”
Before Hyuck can smear his sweat onto your shoulder playfully, a voice stops you in your tracks.
“Y/n!”
It’s Chan. A damp towel hangs off his neck, his nike headband wrapping his forehead under his bangs. “You ready to go?”
You shout, “Just give me a second!”
Hyuck and Jeno give you a knowing look, “Where are you going with Chan?”
You reply, “Oh, we’re just carpooling to the party at Felix’s house.”
Renjun asks, “Also, where’s Mark?”
Hyuck shakes his head in contempt, “He’s heading to the party with Cassandra.”
Jaemin mutters, “Of course he is.”
Of course he would. Mark is one of the captains on the team, why would he be excluded from the after-party? The ache in your heart pings again, you feel sick from the thought of Mark making out with Cassnadra at some gross party. You wouldn’t be able to handle the tears.  Though, Chan had invited you, not Mark- who he didn’t even mention it to you, the least you could do is be courteous. What kind of person gets invited to something and cancels so last minute?
You say, “You guys get to the party and I’ll meet you there, okay?”
Renjun’s eyes crease his concern, “You do know that Mark and Cassandra will be there though right?”
You nod, “Yes. But we won’t mind them, let’s just go have fun tonight.”
After parting, you jog over to Chan who’s tossing his duffel into the trunk of his silver Lexus, his hair damp from the game. He turns to you, grinning, “you ready?”
You smile at him, telling him yes before launching yourself into the passenger seat. Chan turns the ignition, his car interior smelling like cherries from the air freshener that hangs above his head. As Chan drives, the street lamps glow on the side of the road as the moon peeks between the rainy clouds. He rolls your window down, your skin shivering at the cold chill of the night. “So, there was something I wanted to ask you?”
Turning to him, you face the chestnut-haired boy, “You remember stats class a few days ago?”
You reply, “I do?”
“Mark was looking at you the whole time. When you guys hadn’t texted in several days, he asked me if you and I were a thing during practice.”
You quirk your brows up in surprise, “And what did you say?”
Chan smiles to himself, letting out a breathy chuckle, “I said no. But, I was definitely interested.”
You allow yourself to feel nice, to feel like Chan likes you for who you are around him. Chuckling at him, you flip your hair in a sassy manner, “Well, I’ll definitely keep that noted.”
When you arrive at the party, the small two-story house looks like a sight straight out of one of those coming of age movies. The small house is jam packed with people, some hanging out on the lawn as they sip their drinks as music shakes the walls. You spot Renjun’s car from the side of your eye, meaning that your friends had gotten there before you and Chan. Upon entering the house, it’s like a warzone within it. Some people are peacefully talking by the lounge area as they feast on snacks. Some are in the kitchen mixing a plethora of colorful drinks together while also playing a form of beer pong. Girls run up and down the stairs with their friends, some with boys trailing behind them with a trance in their eyes. Some are grinding on each other on the dance floor, sensual music thrumming at the source of the boombox.
The first thing you see are your friends sitting in the corner by the backyard door, Mark on the loveseat with Cassandra practically on his lap. You instinctively grab Chan’s hand so you don’t break down right there. He gives you a surprised glance, “y/n? What’s wrong?”
Instantly, you let go of his hand as you cast your eyes down towards the floor. When you don’t answer, he sees a view of your friends laughing along with Mark and Cassandra. You feel a large hand cover yours which causes you to look up at Chan, “It’s okay y/n. Just stick with me.”
You nod, leading him to the drink table in the kitchen. When he leans down to sniff a large bowl full of sour juices and cubes of fruit, his nose scrunches in disgust, “ugh, jungle juice.”
Out of random courage, you swipe an empty cup from the tower as you shove the metal ladle of jungle juice into it. Downing it despite Chan’s protest, you feel a surge of electricity light your lungs on fire as the beat of your heart quickens from the liquid courage. He laughs, keeping his hand on the small of your back, “You surely make reckless decisions when you’re bothered by something.”
You giggle back at him, “You drink something too, you’re a winner tonight after all.” Chan reaches from a glittery purple bowl that pops with bubbles, “a toast to that, y/n. A toast to that.”
before he downs the liquid in one go. You feel his body jolt from the energy too, a smirk plastered on his face, “Wanna go play a game with some of the boys? Only if you want to, we can talk upstairs too.”
Shaking your head in refusal, you hang on to Chan’s shoulder, “Let’s go have fun.”
Chan grabs your hand, his metal chain bracelet cool on your wrist as he leads you past your friends, Mark, and Cassandra before opening the backyard door. Mark moves Cassandra off his lap, her eyes as cold as ice before she angrily gets up to get another drink. The rest of your friends sit in their circle in awe, glancing down at Chan’s hand enclosed on top of yours. Coolly waving to them, you say, “I’m outside if you need me.” before you meet eyes with Mark- his lips pressed into a frown, his irises shot with hurt. You ignore the ache that grows on the wall of your heart. You tell yourself, Mark’s ignored you all this time because he doesn’t feel the same way and never will. After being outside on the patio for a while, you meet some of Chan’s radio-club friends as all of you play a game of sorry. For a moment, Mark and the others aren’t on your mind, just the fact that Chan is pulling you into an enthusiastic hug after winning a round. You turn to Chan, “Hey, I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom.”
Chan smiles at you before he presses a lingering kiss to the crown of his head, “Sure thing. I’ll be here.”
You’re not even surprised that Chan kisses you, whether or not it’s the alcohol, you don’t mind it. When you head back into the house, you feel an arm grab your wrist and spin you around. Your friends are still sitting where they had when you passed them except Mark is the one boring his eyes into yours as he grabs your shoulders, “We need to talk now.”
Before you can say no, he pulls you to the quieter part of the kitchen, you say with bitterness, “What do you want Mark? I have someone waiting for me.”
Left without any patience, Mark lets out a huff, “Are you and Chan together?”
You sigh, casting your glance at him, “Seriously? It’s none of your business. Second, it’s not like you told me that you were with Cassandra.”
Mark uses his hand to comb back his black hair, making it even more messy, “Y/n. That’s because we’re not together, it’s just complicated and I haven’t had the time to tell you why or how we-”
“Stop right there. You ignored me for days Mark! You never texted or called! What was I supposed to do? Pine after you when you’re chasing Cassandra around?”
Mark’s doe eyes flash with pain, his hand tightening around the sides of your arms, “No! That’s not it! I didn’t mean it that way, I’m just trying to figure out what to do..” You shove Mark off you, his hands sliding off your arms, “Well save it. I’m done with you playing around with my feelings!”
Mark calls after you, tears streaming down your face as you try to make your way to the bathroom without being stared at. It takes all three minutes of some Chris Brown song for you to stop heaving. You feel sick to your stomach, so much for a fun night. You text Chan to meet you outside in front of the house, avoiding the corner your friends were comforting Mark at. Chan finds you leaning against his car, “Oh my god, are you okay?”
Giving him the only smile you can muster, you explain, “Listen, I’m so sorry. You invited me to this party and I just-I’m here being a cry-baby and everything. I’m just going to walk home now. I’m sorry.”
Chan shakes his head in definite refusal, “Nonsense. I’m driving you home. I’m about done anyway.”
You ask hesitantly, “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
The night drive back to your neighborhood gives you peace of mind. Chan rolls all the windows down as soft music plays from his radio, slowing the bounce of your heartbeat. He’s got one hand on the wheel and one hand rested on yours by your knee, you feel comfortable with Chan. It’s the same feeling that flutters in your stomach when you’re close to Mark and right now, you hate the thought of the black-haired boy that consumes so many of your thoughts. Before Chan’s tires screech to a stop in front of your porch, he turns to you with concerned eyes, lips pressed into a pout. “Come here, y/n.”
You waste no time collapsing into the space on his wide chest, his hands stroking your hair down. Resting his chin on your head, you close your eyes to the rhythmic beat of Chan’s heart as the soft patter of the rain is enough to drift you to sleep. You pull away from his chest, looking up at the shadows in Chan’s eyes, his hair falling near his eye-lids while he glances at your lips before looking down to his lap. He says apologetically, “I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to take advantage of your feelings right now. I’m really not-”
You cut him off with your hand pressed to the curve of his cheek, “Can I kiss you?”
He doesn’t waste time to grip the back of your neck, kissing you harshly as he bites the bottom of your lip. You sigh into him, fisting the fabric of his jacket when he moves in even closer to twist a hair behind your ear. When you detach from him, you can’t control the burst of tears that shakes your body. The alcohol blurs the vision of Mark and Chan together as your mind throbs from the effect, leaving you dizzy. You apologize to Chan over and over again, wiping the tears that fall from your eyes. Instead, he kisses his lips to the side of your temple as he urges you to get some sleep. Like the gentleman he is, he walks you to the front door, draping his basketball jacket over your shoulders. Your home is dark- due to the fact that your parents are out of town on a business trip in Toronto so you just flop onto your bed in defeat. Mark’s ringtones shoot off from your phone, notifications of several apology texts and missed calls. Not wanting to check any of them, you toss your cell phone into the grey trash bin that sits by your desk. Going to sleep feels especially difficult when alcohol still surges through your veins and you can’t control the sobs that erupt from your throat. You hear Mark’s car pull up on his driveway, not wanting to see him whatsoever. On your bed, you almost feel him looking up at your window to check if you’re awake- for once, you’re glad it’s curtains are securely shut.
The next few weeks are pretty miserable besides the fact that you’re getting closer to Chan. You don’t acknowledge Mark’s presence anymore. By Hyuck and Jaemin, you’re told he comes by to the lunch table to check if you’re there. You still hang out with your friends separately rather than in your usual group- the web that connects you slowly falling apart. It’s difficult when you have art with Hyuck and Renjun, stats with Jaemin, and ceramics with Jisung, Chenle, and Jeno- as you try to take paths opposite of Mark at the same time. Later on, you explain everything that’s been going on between you and Mark to Chan. He takes it surprisingly well by comforting you and listening to your anger, how he’s willing to let you heal before you two start anything. How could Chan be so patient with you? He says it’s because he really likes you and would rather be there for you as a friend first. When you get home, your parents give you a lecture about starting things with Mark, how they want to have dinner with his family but can’t. Of course, they feel sorry once you explain to them what really happened.
Now, the weather outside seems a lot sunnier, yellow pollen from the peonies float in the air as you make your way out of the double doors. The time is nearing for spring break- a well needed barrier from Mark, from everything. Before you walk your way home, you’re stopped by Hyuck and Renjun. Renjun holds an envelope in his hands before giving it to Hyuck, both of them trapping you, “Y/n. We’ve been looking all over for you.”
You say, “I’m going home now, can we talk tomorrow?”
Hyuck narrows his eyes at me with contempt, “No, of course not. Just hear us out.”
Renjun speaks up too, “Do you have plans for spring break? I’m assuming you don’t because you mentioned a few weeks ago that you didn’t. We’ve got 8 tickets to Victoria island.”
You reply, “And.. your point is?”
Hyuck crosses his arms, rolling his eyes, “The point is to make up. Our group is in shambles because of all this lovesick drama. A trip is a perfect opportunity to mend things.”
Laughing, you cackle at his suggestion, “If you expect me to go then that’s hilarious. I’m not going.”
Hyuck throws up his hands in frustration. “How can you kick it if you don’t even know what will happen?”
Raising your eyebrows defiantly, “Do you remember what happened when Mark and I were in the same room? Hyuck, it’s not happening.”
Renjun grumbles, flicking the envelope in my face, “Fine! We won’t invite Mark then! We just want you to come with us and then we’ll see what happens from there okay?”
Hyuck socks Renjun in the shoulder with a fist before shouting, “How can we not ask Mark?”
In response, Renjun shoots a frigid glare at Hyuck as if he’s threatening him with his eyes,  “We’re just not going to ask him! Y/n, will you come?”
You pause for a moment as you stare back at the pair. You raise your voice to make yourself crystal clear, “I will only go if Mark doesn’t. Simple as that.”
Renjun bobs his head in agreement, “Deal. No Mark.”
When you walk away, you still hear Hyuck berating Renjun for his decision only to be shut up by some snarky comment that comes through Renjun’s lips. The sound of their voices falling away.
First day of spring break
By the time spring break begins, you find yourself standing in front of Renjun’s van with your suitcase packed full of your things. You’re greeted by Renjun, Hyuck, Jaemin, and Jeno first. Of course, Jisung and Chenle are seen scampering across the school parking lot with their duffel bags messily unzipped, some shirts hanging out of the top.
“Didn’t I tell you to pack the night before?” Renjun scoffs at the pair.
Chenle pokes his tongue at the older boy, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s broad shoulders. Jeno holds his hands up in the air before bellowing, “shot-gun!” straight into Hyuck’s ear- causing Hyuck to throw a whiny fit. Once our suitcases are in the back of Renjun’s car, he leans on the side of his van as if he’s waiting for something. Jaemin says, “Okay, isn’t that all? Why aren’t you closing it?”
Renjun has a wicked grin plastered all over his face, “Not everything and not certainly everyone.”
You all turn to face Mark, circles under his eyes, his hair unruly as if he hasn’t gotten sleep in 3 whole weeks. Shoot a menacing face at Renjun, you whisper at him, “You told me Mark wasn’t coming.”
Renjun gives you  an evil, sinister smile, “I crossed my fingers behind my back.”
Having the extreme urge to strangle Renjun on the spot, you ponder about Renjun’s extreme lengths to reach his goal of making up. Before you can walk away from the car, Hyuck drags your hand back to the door of the van, “Ah-ah- y/n. You’re not going anywhere.”
The whole car ride to the ferry is awkwardly silent due to the fact you’re mercilessly squished between Hyuck and Mark. Personal boundaries don’t exist in the car, your legs are practically on top of each other as Mark steals side glances at you from the corner. Getting to the dock port seemed less stressful than you’d imagine it to be. Renjun had parked his van at the base garage of the ferry before unloading everyone's belongings.
Just as easy as it was to get on to the boat, it was easy getting off too. You’d make your way down to Renjun’s car,  Renjun driving it down a ramp and into the pathway that opened into Victoria island. You have to admit to yourself, Victoria island looked even more gorgeous than you had remembered last time you came with your family. During springtime, all the beautiful flowers in Butchart gardens would bloom pinks and purples, the greenery would turn a lush, healthy evergreen, and the city would stay lit for the tourists. It was the perfect place to have a vacation, one with friends at that. Jaemin and Renjun booked a small cottage house for everyone to stay in, one straight out of a fairy tale storybook. The cottage ceiling looked like it was made with hay and lime-green vines, beams of cedar-wood reinforced the walls of the structure. It had a white picket fence that surrounded a small rose garden near the entrance; white lilies floating in an old, peeling fountain. Finally entering the house, you were amazed by the impeccable interior:various paintings of Victoria island, a kitchen that was big enough to seat 10, and bedrooms slacked with ivory/gold wallpaper. Like ants scattering into their units, the boys jumped on their beds that they ‘claimed’ while you and Mark stood in the middle of the hallway. Watching all of them make a clamorous reaction over who got the best room was like watching families seize their buttons during family feud. By observing them, you’ve come to realize that there were only 7 rooms instead of 8. Realizing this, you glance over at Mark who was in turn staring back at you before racing towards the end of the hall- flying to the surface of the bed. Both of you landed on it at the exact same time, faces extremely close together. Hastily, you sit up in an attempt to push Mark off the bed that you claimed first, “Mark Lee, get off my bed now!”
He incredulously stares back at you, “Your bed? This is mine!”
You exclaim, “You’re trying to take my bed now? I clearly jumped on it first!”
“No, you didn’t!”
Bickering back at forth, you and Mark don’t even realize the rest of the boys practically flailing in the doorway, Hyuck saying in a sing-songy voice, “Or.. you could shareee!”
In unison, you and Mark shout, “Hell no!”
You get up first, shoving a pillow at Mark, “Fine, you have it! I’ll room with Hyuck.”
Hyuck clicks his tongue, “Oh no you’re not, y/n. Nada. No bueno.”
Before you can argue with Hyuck or chase him out of the room for that matter, you hear Mark speak up from behind. His voice is shy and quiet, his face a shade of beet red, “You just take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”
You turn to face him as you’re about to reprimand him for such a stupid idea until you realize that it’s probably the best decision to make at the moment.
After dinner that night, everyone had settled into their respective rooms. You had changed into a hoodie and sweatpants after you had showered. You sat on your bed, texting Chan goodnight before shutting it off to charge on your nightstand. Mark had stumbled into your shared room with one pillow and a thin fabric cover-(hardly a blanket) before setting it down on the carpet. Seeing Mark in this state, it reminds you of the old days. The way that his headphones sat comfortably on his ears, his black hair matted with drops of water, and his toned frame covered with black pants and a black tee. The hollows of his cheeks make his face more prominent, his lips the color of a strawberry slice. In one swift motion, he wraps the thin cover around his body before turning on his side, “Good night, y/n.”
Unable to say anything, you shut off the lamp- casting darkness all around you. “Good night, Mark.”
You almost forget that Mark’s there in the room with you until you hear the tick of his teeth chattering and the breathy huffs from how cold it is. You sit up to take a look at his shaking figure, the thin material doing no justice as a blanket. You believe that the air bnb manager hadn’t put extra blankets or control instructions for the ac system as you had all looked for them earlier. Deciding to wrap one of the thicker blankets that’s draped over your legs, you almost trip towards Mark’s shuddering body before patting it against him. Before you turn to go back to your bed, you feel a hand curl around your fingers, Mark slightly opening his half-lidded eyes at you. “y/n?”
Pausing, you touch your hand to Mark’s cheek, “Mark, you’re freezing. You should have told me, this blanket cover isn’t any better than a piece of paper.”
Mark shifts his body closer to face you now, his hands still wrapped around yours, “i-i didn’t know.”
“Do you want more of my blankets? I’m kind of used to the cold.”
Mark says, “No, if I take them, you’ll catch a cold.”
“Mark, I’m fine, really.” You insist on letting you help him, the boy shivering from the icy temperature.
His eyes become stern, his muscles stiffening, “y/n, I said no!”
Pausing, retract your hand from Mark’s as the warmth slowly is replaced with cold air. You give him a gentle nod this time, “I-okay.” Mark sits up from his place, fingers running through his messy hair, an earbud still plugged into his left ear, “What I mean is, I don’t want you to get sick. It’d be my fault.”
Instead, you walk back to your spot on your bed, “Look, don’t take this the wrong way but, you can come warm up for a little. Just before you go back to sleep, I promise- I won’t touch you.”
In the dark, Mark’s eyes glint like swirling, black orbs as he nods at you, getting up to take a spot next to you on the bed. He leans back into the pillow by your head, the coolness of it feeling like a cold cloud. Sighing with content, he submerges his body under the warmth of the comforter, careful not to over step his boundaries with you. When Mark lies next to you, you can seem to shut your eyes. Instead, your heart beats out of your chest when you hear Mark whisper. “y/n?”
“Yes, Mark?”
He says with a heavy heart, “I miss us.”
Propping my elbow on your pillow, you turn to face him, “I miss you.”
You choke on your words, your head throbbing with dizziness when you realize what you had just admitted to Mark. You seem visibly gulp, his eyes tracing the crease where the flowery wallpaper meets the ceiling. His voice comes out shaky, “y/n..I-I like you.”
Mark’s earbud sings the words of a beautiful, familiar tune:
Said I never fall, i’d never fall and then I fell for you mhm
Back against the wall, against the wall, and against the wall, that’s how it felt with you mhm
When those words fall from Mark’s lips, all the oxygen from your lungs makes an exit and threatens to not come back in- you’re left stunned. Mark turns his face to you to see your reaction and you stare back at him, eyes widened. Before you have the chance to say anything, Mark presses his lips to yours, rising from the pillow as his nose knocks against yours lightly. You find yourself kissing him back, harder than when you kissed Chan the night of the party. The kiss is full of yearning, almost full of struggling sadness to trap the right feelings- Mark’s hand snakes a hand around your jaw in order to stabilize you. He keeps kissing you aggressively, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. You pull away first, fire thrumming in your lungs as you place your hand on his chest, “Mark, you have a girlfriend. We can’t.”
Mark shakes his head slightly, “I’m not dating Cassandra.”
You make a face at him, “What do you mean? Because if I’m a rebound, I don’t want to be.”
Mark chuckles, a smirk snaking on his swollen lips, “Trust me, you’re not a rebound. And, I meant what I said about liking you.”
“Mark, you can’t just tell me you like me and then kiss me like nothing’s happened. I saw you and Cassandra with my own eyes.”
Mark sighs before gazing back at you with his obsidian-colored eyes, his skin glowing from the moon that shines slightly through the window curtains, “I’ve liked you since the day you brought those muffins to my house. I thought you would never see me as more as a friend and I tried to use Cassandra to get over you. I never wanted to burden you if you didn't feel the same. Clearly, it didn’t work. Not even partially. I’m sorry.”
You press your forehead against Mark’s, pressing a lingering kiss to the shape of his lips as you use one hand to pull the hairs on Mark’s nape- causing him to groan before reciprocating.
You whisper to him, a beautiful sound to his ears, “Why are we so difficult? We’re such idiots.”
Placing your head on Mark’s chest, both of you collapse on to the bed, sleep washing over your minds. You hear Mark giggle before putting his right ear bud into your ear, the sound of a man’s voice humming:
One weekend in Portland, you weren’t even my girlfriend
We were walkin’ and talkin’
Then somebody said.. let's get tattoos together, something to remember
If it’s way too soon, fuck it, whatever
Give me shapes and letters
If it’s not forever, then at least we’ll have tattoos together
Mmm, ‘cause I love you
Mmm, ‘cause I love you
When you wake up the next morning, you and Mark are greeted by Jaemin and Renjun cooking breakfast in the kitchen as Jeno, Hyuck, and Chenle play mario kart on the old television in the living room. Jisung is setting the table with eating utensils while also stopping to look at his Nintendo switch every few seconds. Aside from reddened faces and teasing, the boys had already suspected of your making-up based on the blush that coats both of your faces. That afternoon, you call Chan on the phone through facetime, letting him know that you and Mark had made up. Chan tells him how happy he is to hear it, telling you that he’s always known how much Mark had liked you and that he didn’t hold a candle to how Mark would talk about you to the basketball team. You apologize out of worry that you’ve hurt Chan but like the gentleman he is, he tells you that you���ll always be good friends especially when he’s good friends with Mark.
The next few days are like dreams. Together, you, Mark, and the boys go gallivanting across Victoria island through the sea towns made of floating boathouses and seafood restaurants. You bring your polaroid camera with you, capturing memories of Hyuck dropping his ice cream, selfies with Jeno and Jaemin, and seagulls chasing Renjun- all in a few frames. Even one morning, all of you had the spontaneous but rather, stupid decision to get matching commemorative tattoos, each of them a different flower on your wrists to commemorate your friendship. Each afternoon meant picnics at the Goldmere Provincial Park or whale watching tours out on the cobalt waters that were foaming with white. Other days you’d all visit the aviation museum or opt to sample the best chocolate fudge at Roger’s after a small hike.
On the last night of your trip, Mark had made sure that he wanted to take you down Tiffany avenue before meeting up with the boys for dinner. He’d told you to dress nicely in which you all did, leading you by the hand down the shopping street as your tulle skirt wavered behind you. When the both of you came to a balcony that overlooked the water,  the ocean looked so vast like it could swallow you into the great swirls of turquoise and aquamarine as white ocean spray crashed on the sharp rocks. The sky turned a lavender shade that bloomed into a twilight pink, the sun barely touching the tips of the mountains. Mark had placed an item in your hand from his pocket, a pair of cherry earrings he had bought in a souvenir shop when you weren’t looking. It reminded you of the song on Mark’s playlist from several nights before:
Yeah, your cherry earrings are my favorite
It looks so good I had to save it
I’ve been hopin’, prayin’ we last forever
‘Cause there’s nothing better than you and I
A week ago, you told Renjun that in any circumstance, you would never go anywhere if it reminded you of your feelings for Mark, of your friends, of everything that had happened. Now, you’re glad to be able to let go, you’re able to feel the cold wind on the cliffs- Mark right by your side. Being wrapped up in the tight security of your boyfriend’s arms, (yes, Mark had asked for real this time) along with your best friends, you’re careful to not let go of them now. There’s no place that you’d rather be.
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lu-undy · 3 years
Text
Chapter 30 - SBT
Here it is!
"M, I must say that your opponent is very skilled. He hit points that do hurt a lot but did only very superficial damage…" 
The Doctor was a man who looked like any other beggar. He was dressed in rugs and has an unkempt beard, and bushy eyebrows. He was very short and equally old, behind his round pair of spectacles. Beyond the appearances, he turned out to be indeed a medical expert. His surgery was at the end of Maurice's district. 
Mundy was sitting on a hospital bed and Lucien was sitting on the one next to him. 
"You are welcome, Bushman." 
The Doctor sniffed the air and turned to the Frenchman. He removed the cigarette off his lips and Lucien pouted.
"This is a non smoking area…! And M, you did not tell me that this man is the cause of your injuries." The Doctor shut the curtain between the two and started removing Mundy's clothes as he was done with cleaning and patching up his face. 
"He is the cause of mine too." Lucien added from behind the curtain. 
Mundy rolled up his eyes. 
"You looked for it, you fancy ski teacher." 
The Doctor raised his head off Mundy's chest. 
"He is a ski teacher?!" 
"Yeah." Mundy answered. 
"Non!" Lucien said. 
"Good Lord…" The Doctor shook his head and resumed his tending to Mundy's bruises. 
"Ouch, Doc', that hurts…"
"Oui, Docteur, he is delicate, please don't break him further." 
"Oi! I'm not delicate! You just hit where it hurts!" 
"Oops…?" Lucien answered and Mundy clearly heard that he wasn't really sorry at all.
"It is the first time you bring me your foe to heal too, M." The Doctor said. "And it has been a decade since I last saw you." 
The tone in the room became serious again.
"Can I speak freely?" The Doctor raised his eyes to Mundy. The Aussie knew that Lucien would hear everything. 
"Go ahead." 
"First, lie down on your back please. Thank you. Now, as a doctor, I am the happiest when I don't see my patients, because it means they are in good health. But with you, M, I had my doubts. You were either in excellent health or in a state that no doctor could fix."
"Y-yeah… I see what you mean. Uh… Sorry I didn't say anythin'. And uh, I was in both of these." 
Lucien listened closely. 
"What happened, M?"
"I… I lost my parents and decided to stop everything. I disappeared and just… I don't really know, time passed." Mundy tried to explain himself without giving too many details, as Lucien was no doubt listening. 
And indeed, on the other side of the curtain, Lucien had lied down too and let Mundy's voice just fill the silence. 
"I am sorry to learn about your parents. They were good people, very good people." The doctor had applied medicinal creams on the bruised areas and was now putting some bandages. 
"Yeah… Thanks." 
"But why are you back now?" The Doctor asked.
"Because the bloke who killed them is here and I want to kill him." 
The Doctor shook his head. 
"M… In all those years of remarkably good work, in all these years of saving lives, you now want to end one?" 
Mundy frowned.
"He didn't even give them a painless death." 
"Can you turn on your side, please. Thank you. Now…" The Doctor took care of Mundy's right side. "What did your parents do to end up… gone? I presume it was an accident." The Doctor asked. 
"No, it wasn't. They did nothing. Absolutely nothing." Mundy answered, staring in front of him. He was facing the curtain and could distinguish Lucien's silhouette. "They…" He sighed. The Aussie was unsure. 
"Take a deep breath." 
Mundy's eyes snapped wide. It was the same voice as in the sugar factory complex. The one that had asked him to relax. And then, the eyes, artic blue, as calm as the ocean could get, everything disappeared, the eyes again, light blue, almost grey, and streaks of darker blue, like threads intertwining with the lighter blue… 
Peace. 
Mundy took a deep breath. 
"My parents did nothing wrong. They happened to live on a bit of land where there was some oil. They were asked to pack up and go somewhere else, they'd be offered a large cheque as compensation. But my parents loved it there, it was the house that they built together, with their farm, the chickens and geese. I loved it there too. They refused to sell it. A few months later, after being almost harassed about it, receiving countless letters about it, the cheques growing bigger and bigger, they still refused. One day, I was off on a job and…"
Mundy sighed and took another deep breath. He closed his eyes and saw the blue ones that had brought peace to him. 
"When I came back home that day, the farm had been burned to the ground, the house was entirely devoured by the flames. I called for the firemen but it was too late. They… There was no one to save anymore." He screwed his eyes shut tighter. 
Lucien had listened in utter shock. His lips had parted and his eyes were open wide. How the hell could anyone set fire to a house where two peaceful people lived there? They were harmless, they were just… living there.
"I see." The Doctor said. "And now you are off to find this man and kill him, hm?" 
"Yeah. I want to make him suffer, I want him to understand what it was for my parents, and for me."
"And you stopped working for a little more than a decade now?" 
"I swore to never touch a rifle ever again. My dad hated them and they got me far away from my parents when they needed me the most. I hate those things."
"Yet, you are incredibly gifted at using one." 
Mundy and the Doctor looked at each other. The voice had come from the other side of the light green curtain. 
"And you did use a rifle again." Lucien added. "What made you break your oath?" 
There was a bit of silence. The Doctor collected his tools and threw away the packages, and dirty compresses in the bin.
"I… This is my last job. It's not even a job, it's somethin' I need to do. I have to kill that bloke and then…"
"And then what?" Lucien asked, looking in the direction of Mundy but only seeing his silhouette through the curtain.
"Then, whatever happens, I don't care." 
The Doctor shook his head. 
"M, you know that we care for you, don't you?" He said. "Maurice, Eddy, me, the animals' reserves of this country… You have always been doing an incredible job and you did it without killing anyone, ever. I remember the young M, the one who would rather cut his own hand than hurt people, or animals."
"Yeah, well that version of me died the day my parents did." 
The Doctor sighed. He let Mundy dress up again and pushed the curtain to go to Lucien. 
"Now, to us." He said, and Lucien lifted himself up to sit. "What is your deal?" 
"I am after the same man as M." 
Mundy put on his polo shirt again and lied down on the hospital bed. 
"Ah, is that why you have been fighting? You each thought the other was an enemy when in fact you want the same thing?" 
"Not exactly." 
The Doctor was cleaning the blood off of Lucien's face. 
"What then? You both bumped into each other as you were going to kill that man?" 
"Non." Lucien answered. 
"And what is your motivation to kill him?" 
Lucien sighed. If Mundy had managed to make an effort, then he shall try. 
"The same man who stole M's parents away from him, took my family away too." 
"Oh… Quite the serial killer that man…" 
"Indeed." 
"Did he go for your parents too?" The Doctor asked. 
"Non. Not my parents. My…" Lucien frowned. 
"Hey, mate?" Mundy said on the other side of the curtain. "Deep breath." 
Lucien obeyed.
"He took my… My fiancée, and our young son." 
Mundy's jaw dropped and his eyes snapped wider than plates. Lucien's voice had cracked, he could hear it. 
"Remove your clothes and lie down, please." 
Lucien did as he was told. Mundy could only hear the muffled noises of fabrics being moved but his mind was stuck. Duchemin had killed a sheila and a kid…? What kind of heartless bastard was that…? 
"Thank you." The Doctor said and started tending to Lucien's chest. "How did it happen?" 
Lucien took a second. He closed his eyes, lying down on that hospital bed and saw it all against his closed eyelids. 
"They were off to buy some groceries. I was watching them from our house in Boston. Jérémy was holding Marie's hand and they were walking on the pavement. Such grace she had when she walked, her hips swinging ever so delicately, mon Dieu…" Lucien bit his lip and went on, his eyes still closed. "They arrived at the end of the street and crossed. That's when a car arrived at full speed, took a turn and…" 
Lucien opened glistening eyes. 
"I went out running to them and… Putain de merde… Marie gave me her last smile, as the tears rolled down her smooth cheeks. She looked down at Jérémy and when she saw him in my arms, unconscious, her last tears streamed down her beautiful face and she closed her blue eyes, never to open them again."
Mundy had frozen on his hospital bed, across the curtain. 
"When did that happen?" The Doctor asked, as he finished spreading the cream on the bruised areas of his chest and stomach.
"A bit more than a decade ago." Lucien opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. 
"And, uh," Mundy's voice pulled Lucien out of his remembrance. "I guess Duchemin did that?" He looked in the direction of Lucien but could only see the silhouette of the doctor and that of the masked man lying on the bed. 
"Oui. That car that ran them over, it was being chased by the police. I enquired about the case and it turns out that the man behind it all was none other than Arthur Duchemin. You see, that black 4x4 was transporting a load of gold that the police had been tracking down. And that gold had been stolen by the man we both are after. It is because of him that my Marie and my little Jérémy are gone now."
"What did you do after all that?" Mundy asked. 
"I quitted my job. I left everything behind me and flew back to France where I just… time passed." Lucien said, quoting Mundy.
"What is your job?" The Doctor asked. "You clearly know a lot about close combat, or at least where it hurts. Were you a field medic?" 
"Non, not at all. I am… I am a jack of all trades."
"But not a master of none, eh?" Mundy said and Lucien's ears pricked up. "Whatever you are, you're good at doin' it, mate." 
"I have a good reason to do what I am doing, nothing more." He smiled.
The Doctor finished patching Lucien up. 
"You can dress up again, I am finished." 
Lucien slipped his shirt on and buttoned it up. When he was done, the Doctor pulled the curtain away and both Lucien and Mundy looked at each other. They were much cleaner, but their faces were covered in plasters here and there, there were still some red and sometimes even bluish bruises. 
"Look at yer ugly mug now, spooky bastard..." Mundy teased and they both chuckled. 
"Hey, you're the one with a large plaster across your cheek, Bushman." 
"I will be back in a moment." The Doctor left them. 
They looked at each other. 
"I'm uh… I'm sorry for your loss." Mundy said as he sat up, letting his long legs dangle in the emptiness below him. 
"And I apologise for the words I have said about your mother. You seem to love her quite a lot." Lucien answered. 
"Yeah, she and my dad were everything I had. Now I don't have anything anymore."
"Don't say that." 
Mundy raised his eyes from his feet to Lucien's eyes. 
"Easy for you to say, you told me you had someone in your life again. That's nice for you. But I don't."
"An exceptional sharpshooter like you, it would be a shame to see you die." Lucien answered. "An exceptional sharpshooter, and a good teammate, for someone who lives in a hut." 
"A hut? I live in my van." 
Lucien's eyes snapped wide. 
"W-what?" 
"My parents' house has been burnt down."
"Didn't you move to a flat, or a house?" Lucien asked. 
"Nah." 
"So you stayed in that van for ten years?" 
"Y-yeah." Mundy looked away and pushed his hat deeper on his head to hide his blush. 
"Hey." Lucien left his bed and put a hand on Mundy's shoulder. "There is nothing shameful in that. I locked myself up for the same amount of time as you did. I refused to see anyone, I disappeared and I thought I would just wait it out." 
"What made you come back? How did you learn that Duchemin was here?" Mundy asked, raising his head to look into Lucien's eyes. 
"Through my job. I know people, they know things." 
"And so you came here?" Mundy asked. 
"Oui." Lucien hopped on to sit on Mundy's bed, next to him. "I took the first flight to Australia and here I am, to complete my last task." 
"What will you do after that? I mean, if we get out of it." 
"We?" Lucien asked. 
"I mean… We both want the same thing. And we kinda make it work, don't we?" 
"We do indeed." Lucien nodded. 
"So, uh, what d'you say? We do it together?" Mundy extended his hand and Lucien stared at it for a while. Silence fell and the clock on the wall counted out loud the tics and tocs of Lucien's indecision. 
"D'accord." He shook Mundy's hand. 
[Agreed.]
"Oh, alright… Thanks, eh." 
"Thank you too." 
The Doctor entered again. 
"Here, for both of you, some aspirin. Use it if it hurts." 
"Thanks, Doc'."
"Merci, Docteur."
[Doctor]
They both exited the surgery and walked back together until they arrived at Mundy's van. 
"Well, uhm… Let me know if you have any ideas what to do next, eh." Mundy said, looking at Lucien. 
"In the immediate future, why not take a few days off and let our bodies rest. We cannot take our next move while being barely able to walk straight." Lucien answered. 
"Yeah, you're right. Ok, uh, d'you know where to find me?" 
"Non, but I don't need to. Maurice knows."
"Ah, yeah, true. Alright, see you then, Spook."
"Spook?" Lucien repeated. 
"Well, I'm a Bushman, and you're one hell of a spooky bloke with your mask, and suit and tie. So you're a Spook." Mundy said with a smile. 
"Fair enough, take care of yourself."
"Yeah, same to you." 
Mundy drove away and Lucien watched as the van grew smaller before it took a turn and disappeared. 
"Well, back to my piano." Lucien said to himself as he walked back to his motorcycle. 
-- A few days later, the Queen Victoria --
"The usual, Sir?" 
"Uh, yes, please. Actually, could I get a coffee with it, please?" 
"Certainly." 
The waiter disappeared and left Mundy at his table. He leaned back and waited impatiently for the show to start.  He had been waiting for that night with high anticipation and had kept on listening to that song about solitude in his van. His heart didn't have it to switch on the radio. Only that cassette understood what he felt and could sing it. Although, in all fairness, there was nothing like the live performance of that singer on stage. Each time Mundy closed his eyes to see it projected on his closed eyelids, he felt shivers shoot through his spine and diffuse through his limbs. 
He adjusted his position on his chair and wiggled his shoulders to shake the shivers away. Mundy was now almost used to the suit and each time he would wear it, he would feel less apprehension. The souvenir of his parents' burial started to fade from that black suit, and his mind started to associate it with the shivers of a new show. Wearing the shirt and tying the tie meant that he was off to see the man that managed to speak directly to something inside him. His soul perhaps, his heart surely.
"Your dessert and coffee, Sir." 
"Thanks." 
The waiter nodded and turned on his heels before leaving him. 
"Ladies and Gentlemen…!"
Ah, Mundy smiled like an imbecile, on his own, and he didn't realise it. People were still chatting left and right from him. He wanted to shush them, like the quiet kid in a busy classroom. But the singer soon appeared on stage and Mundy's eyes couldn't leave him. He was handsome, that man, and always had a different suit. The ladies in the room applauded louder and shouted at him. Mundy was impressed...
"Thank you for coming each night in bigger numbers, I deeply appreciate it." Lulu bowed on stage and people applauded him warmly. 
Bugger, he really sounds like L… Mundy thought to himself. 
"I was pleased to receive letters from some of you sitting in the audience tonight or on the previous shows, complimenting my performance."
Again, the women in the room all agreed to applaud him and let him hear them. Mundy blushed and tensed. He, too, was one of those people. He felt put on the spot and the heat of the embarrassment crept over his body from his legs which turned to jelly, up to his cheeks and ears burning hot. He clenched his jaw.
"And I was surprised to receive so many. But you also have to thank Andy and his orchestra, without whom none of this would ever be possible." 
Lulu stepped aside for the conductor and the musicians to bow courteously at the audience, who again applauded them loudly.
"Tonight, I would like to sing an answer to these letters, if I may."
Lulu went to the piano. He pinched his trousers' legs up and sat down elegantly. It reminded Mundy of L and how he had sat on the chair back in Maurice's hideout. The singer put his fingers on the keys and started playing. 
The keys were slammed powerfully and the rhythm was quite fast. Oh, that change of tone was unexpected and it made Mundy curious and eager…!
{To the reader: the song is "La groupie du pianiste" [The fan of the pianist] by Michel Berger} 
"Elle passe ses nuits sans dormir,
[She spends her nights without sleeping]
À gâcher son bel avenir,
[Wasting her beautiful future]
La groupie du pianiste.
[The fan of the pianist]
Dieu, que cette fille a l'air triste,
[God, how sad she looks]
Amoureuse d'un égoïste,
[She's in love with a selfish man]
La groupie du pianiste."
[The fan of the pianist]
Mundy couldn't understand a word of all that French but his soul read the subtitles that his eyes couldn't see, and he felt the meaning of the words. That was better than any translation anyone could have provided him with.
"Elle passe sa vie à l'attendre
[She spends her time waiting for him]
Pour un mot, pour un geste tendre
[For a word, for a tender gesture]
La groupie du pianiste
[The fan of the pianist]
Devant l'hôtel, dans les coulisses"
[In front of the hotel, backstage]
Oh he was something to watch that man… He was dancing in rhythm, as his fingers slammed the keyboard along his words, on the black and white keys, making the sheen of his Burgundy, satin jacket reflect the spotlights beautifully on Mundy's irises.
And the Aussie was slouched on his chair, his face on his palm, his elbow on the table. He was drinking the music of the man with the poetic salt and pepper hair beautifully. Ah, that grey front tuft that jumped and brushed the air before Lulu's ice grey eyes… 
"Elle l'aime, elle l'adore
[She loves him, she adores him,]
Plus que tout, elle l'aime, c'est beau 
[More than anything, she loves him, and it's beautiful]
comme elle l'aime"
[The way she loves him]
"Bloody hell…" Mundy whispered to himself. Lulu was half seated half standing and he was singing with such passion on the microphone…! His eyes were screwed shut and it was as if everything had disappeared around him. He was alone on the stage, and sang something about love quite obviously, with his blood boiling in his very veins! 
Mundy was gobsmacked by the performance. He couldn't see himself, but his pupils had dilated to the size of planets and in them were engraved the image of Lulu singing his heart out to a lady who was way too lucky to understand it… 
The Aussie bit his lip. That bastard made him feel things he hadn't felt in years, decades even. Even with Emma, a few months ago, he hadn't felt half of the quarter of what was happening inside him now. Oof! What was that?! There was something that came from his very guts, from his eyes, from his chest, something that grew out of his body from his very core and launched towards that man on the piano, thumping his foot on the pedal and shaking his head left and right… 
Mundy put a hand on his chest. His heart was pumping hard and fast, to the rhythm of Lulu's words and his music. 
"Gosh… What the hell…" 
Mundy was breathing fast, as if he was running after something, after someone. His eyes were open wide and he felt his heartbeat on his temples, bugger, he was blushing now that he stared at Lulu…
"Il a des droits sur son sourire
[He has rights on her smile]
Elle a des droits sur ses désirs
[She has rights on his desires]
La groupie du pianiste
[The fan of the pianist]
Elle sait rester là sans rien dire
[She knows how to stay there, mute]
Pendant que lui joue ses délires
[While he plays his heart off]
La groupie du pianiste
[The fan of the pianist]
Quand le concert est terminé
[When the concert is finished]
Elle met ses mains sur le clavier
[She puts her hands on the keys]
En rêvant qu'il va l'emmener
[While she dreams that he will take her]
Passer le reste de sa vie
[To spend the rest of her life]
Tout simplement à l'écouter"
[Just listening to him]
Mundy was hanging on Lulu's very lips. Gosh, he stared at them, his thin lips, how they moved in front of the microphone, not even an inch away from it, declaring a love that a damn woman had without doing anything else but existing! 
"Bloody hell…" Mundy sat straight on his chair as he started to figure out what was happening inside him. His hands patted his chest repeatedly, left and right, as if he was looking for something that he had forgotten, in a pocket he didn't know existed anymore. He ended up wrapping his hands around himself. Oh, he needed air, he needed so much air…!
Lulu turned his eyes to the audience, people were applauding in rhythm enthusiastically, the waves of applause crashed, making the air snap and Mundy's heart pumped harder, as Lulu's gaze swept across the room and got closer to him.
"Elle l'aime, elle l'adore!
[She loves him, she adores him!]
Plus que tout, elle l'aime, c'est beau
[More than anything, she loves him, it's beautiful]
Comme elle l'aime!"
[How she loves him!]
Lulu took the microphone off its stand and left the piano to come at the edge of the stage and repeated that infernal chorus that Mundy felt like a dagger to his chest. Oh he wished…! Mundy wished he was the one at the other end of those words. But he wasn't a she, despite being, as hard at it was to admit, a fan of the pianist. 
The song ended in a thunder of applause and cheers from the audience, women in the room made their high-pitched admiration shoot through the very air and Lulu was proud. Gosh, he was handsome when he was singing but his smirk was something that split Mundy in halves.
And Mundy was left there, breathless, his eyes, his mind and his heart full of colors, tastes and euphoric feelings he could not describe. When he emerged from his shock, Mundy looked around him to see people eating their dinner left and right, as if nothing had happened a few minutes ago. A few minutes? Mundy looked at his watch. The show had stopped at least half an hour ago. 
Crikey… 
He needed to vent. To yell at someone, empty himself of what he had just been through. He would write another letter, screw it. Paper? Pen? Mundy patted his pockets. Nah, of course not, he's wearing a suit, he isn't going to school, why would he carry a pen and paper. No, no, of course not! He looked left and right. 
Oh? 
He got an idea. It was foolish, absolutely out of both his character, and his comfort zone. But screw it all. If he had managed to team up with someone to find Duchemin, how hard could it be to just…? 
Mundy took his hat off his table and pushed his chair back. He stood up and walked resolutely to the backstage area. He slipped through a door without anyone stopping him and saw the musicians here and there. His eyes scanned the crowd but he couldn't see the man in the suit. Bugger, where was he…? 
"'Scuse me mate, you know where Lulu is?" He asked one of the musicians. 
"Yeah, he must be in his dressing room, that's the door at the end of the corridor." 
"Ah, thanks." 
"No worries." 
Mundy walked to the white door. There was a sign on it. It read "Lulu." 
"Well, that seems like the right door, eh, so uh, here we go…" 
He knocked at the door. Three knocks, like the three words that his heart was beating. 
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dropsofletters · 5 years
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title: helpless pairing: byun Baekhyun/reader genre: first love!au/best friends!au/friends to lovers!au (and a hint of teacher!baekhyun) summary: baekhyun is all light, no shadows, no edges, no secrets. if someone ever asks her how she feels about him, she’d say she hates him so much to the point he became her best friend. it only takes a motel, a sugary kiss and a handful of years of unknowing feelings for her to burst out of that bubble. from that moment on, she’s helpless. type: fluff/angst
“B-But, Baekhyun! Are you even listening to me?”
“Listening? Yeah. Caring? Maybe. Feeling annoyed? Uh, that,” Baekhyun chuckles sarcastically, the sound barely making it out of his lips in a short breath as he took one glance at his best friend. “That’s a yes. Definitely. For sure.”
To say that Byun Baekhyun underestimated break-ups was an understatement. Relationships to him were birds passing by his window, chirping for a while in the pleasant sound of music before they became annoying and he shushed them away. Quite clearly, Baekhyun does not understand the importance behind a relationship—it’s an emotional connection, surely, but his own type of termination to his past relationships had consisted more of annoyance, frustration and anger than sadness. Maybe he is strong, or he really doesn’t feel the need to drop a single tear for anyone: whatever it was, it surprises his best friend.
The moment she had called him crying on the phone after three days of not responding to his texts was the first wave of relief that he had felt in a while, but then relief turned into anger because he had been visiting her non-stop for those three days and she did not dare to open the door for him simply to explain that she had broken up with her boyfriend. Not even an excellent boyfriend at all that, but someone whose personality Baekhyun could not stand even the slightest.
Dongwoo was always too perfect…and that is good, Baekhyun wants nothing but the best for his best friend, but every fiber of her ex-boyfriend exuded egocentrism at its finest (or its worse) and Baekhyun did nothing more than hope a thunder landed on the man whenever he gave one of his boisterous speeches about his career, something incredibly boring about chemistry or biology…microbiology something, Baekhyun calls it, simply because he could not understand what was so important about it. Intelligent, that Dongwoo was, but he was not enough of a nice try at love to have his best friend looking that way.
And perhaps, he is the most infuriated at the tears that spill from her eyes as she talks about her relationship with Dongwoo that lasted two months, as if they had gotten married and had kids and now they had to split everything in half. Baekhyun is seated at her island, one of his legs propped over her seat while his long fingers twisted his phone in circles over the surface in which she normally ate. Surely, it does not sound like the perfect concept of a good person, but Baekhyun feels like she should not be that heartbroken.
Which brings Baekhyun to an own example in himself. He has had long-lasting relationships, his longest one lasting over three years before it came to an end and even in that time, he could not say that he really loved his partner. There is a little voice inside his head that whispers, very softly, delicately even that it must be the same case for his best friend.
There are steps that need to be followed in society. People need to cry at funerals. People need to laugh when someone tells a joke. People need to feel bad when they go through a break-up…
But really, shouldn’t she feel happy at the fact that the microbiology narcissist has called it quits on their relationship?
She places her hand on top of his to stop his movements, a scowl on her face as she looks into his brown eyes. “Am I annoying you? Because you can leave if that’s the case. I called my best friend so I could talk to him about my break-up, my problems, you know the drill.” She swats her hand as if it was nothing, but her voice has all the dramatics he needed. In any other occasion, Baekhyun would have caressed her hair and kissed her forehead to tell her everything was going to be alright…but it was not that bad. “And all you do is tell me that I annoy you?” Baekhyun takes one long look at her face. Puffy eyes that indicated she had been crying for a while, sniffling nose and parted lips and a bit of a whistle in her breathing. It breaks his heart, surely, but he doesn’t think she needs to act that way because of a break-up. Call him stubborn, but it’s true.
Baekhyun sighs, however. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you. It’s just that…listen, I feel like you shouldn’t act this way because of Dongwoo.” He explains with ease, spilling his words out as if they were fire coming from a volcano. She doesn’t know if she hates or loves that Baekhyun always tells her the truth—she probably hates it on times like those.
“We’ve been together for two months!” She screeches and Baekhyun nods his head, his eyebrows raised up to indicate his anger, his pretty and small eyes blinking uninterestedly at her words. “Two months of me being a good girlfriend, of shaving my legs constantly just so he would be welcomed by pretty, shaved legs—and he does this to me!”
“Break up with you, you mean.” Baekhyun points out.
“Duh.” A small scoff leaves her lips, and deep inside her brain she wonders why in the world she has not gotten drunk. Two shots of tequila sound better than talking to Baekhyun about her problems right at that moment. “And all he gives me is a half-assed break-up text with a typo. No, he could not even grammar-check the poor excuse he gave me to go have sex with his secretary, no…he did not even care enough to do so!”
Baekhyun tries to hold in his laughter, biting on his bottom lip and letting his eyebrows relax the slightest by the action. “Did you even expect more from him?”
She nods her head frantically. “He is smart! Baek, I expected him to be the man of my life—”
“The man of your life.” Baekhyun repeats and then he whistles, laughing joyfully soon after. Baekhyun’s smile could make her feel better in other occasion, but now she feels like he is mocking her, which is most likely the case. “Smart. That’s all you liked about him, that he was smart.”
“No, he was also sweet and understanding—”
Baekhyun hides his face in his hands when she says those words, laughing louder. “What are you saying?”
“What would you know about our relationship, Baekhyun? You weren’t in it!”
He relaxes at the sound of her voice, his laughter coming to a slow stop before he took a good look to her face. The two had been friends for years, meeting through a mutual friend and deciding that they were meant to laugh together endlessly. This was one of those moments in which he was laughing but she wasn’t, definitely. “…No. You’re right, I was not in the relationship.”
“See?”
“But let me speak.” Baekhyun says before patting her arm, earning an eye-roll from her. “If a man has a taboo with unshaved legs, that’s not really a man. Like…they are legs, if you want to shave them good, if you don’t…then good.” She licks the inside of her cheek in shame, looking over to the side to look at the refrigerator with crossed arms. “And I could tell from miles away that Dongwoo wanted to change you. He always looked pissed when you would say something even remotely dumb and he tugged at your hand as if you were a dog. You’re not a dog, you will never be.” The words that he spits with certainty and honesty seem like ones he had hidden deep within his vocal chords to keep her happiness intact. What can he say? When Baekhyun heard that his best friend was in a relationship, the least he wanted was making her feel bad about picking the wrong person. “And excuse me if I am annoyed because I hate the way he treated you. That’s it—he is an ass, he does not deserve you.”
She presses her lips together, dancing in the limbo of believing Baekhyun’s words or simply staying spoiled and sad about a broken relationship. It was true that Dongwoo was not the perfect boyfriend, far from it, but she really thought he could have been the man she would spend the rest of her life with. “…I guess.” She releases a sigh and then, she stands up from her spot on the chair across from Baekhyun. “But—”
“No, no.” Baekhyun denies quickly. “Answer one question before you continue to ramble about how you’re single now and how it’s a messy break-up and whatnot.”
“Sure.”
“Did you love him?”
“As in…love-love?” She adds as if it was a subcategory of any sorts.
Baekhyun shakes his head, however. “There is no love-love or love-hate or love-like. It’s love, as in ‘I love you’ love.” A headache is about to ensue because of the amount of times Baekhyun had mentioned the word ‘love’ but then, she thinks of the reality of her relationship with Dongwoo. She had thought he was the perfect man and she wanted to make him her best attempt at love, but that did not mean that she had fallen for him. If anything, she feels like she has lost a competition, a battle of any kind, and that’s why she is so sore—crying, because she still can’t seem to find a person who will stay with her more than a few months.
“No.” She confesses and Baekhyun snaps his fingers together, a proud smile on his face.
“I knew it.”
“But I can still cry for him.”
Baekhyun nods. “But now we know you’re not crying because you lost him. It’s because you lost a relationship.”
She sighs, observing Baekhyun’s smiling features and how he seems to cut her off but also pull her back towards him at the same time. His brown eyes were four walls of safety for her, his rosy lips were the temple of his best told truths and his nose could smell a lie from her from miles away. She goes over to Baekhyun, opening her arms as if to ask for a hug and he turns on his chair so he can let her stand in between his spread legs, welcoming her in a hug that warmed her heart. “You don’t know how glad I am you’re not a motivational speaker.”
Chuckles fill the room and they are his, his hands rubbing at her back to ease her sore muscles. “But I helped you, didn’t I?”
“That was help?” She asks, taking in his scent as she breathes in and when she releases that breath, it’s in a laugh. “That made me sad.”
Baekhyun presses his lips quickly to her cheek, whispering to her in a rushed manner. “I am sure you’ll find someone. I’ll be in charge of that.”
At this moment, she does not want to think of any possible partners or a new boyfriend, she wants to bury her old relationship and listen to Baekhyun’s calming heartbeat that promises there is going to be a new beginning for her. Someday. Sometime. Not this night, definitely, but for now all she cares about is sharing food with Baekhyun and talking about nostalgic memories to ease the ache of her heart.
There are set stereotypes in our brains, not particularly to judge people, but to connect certain situations to actions done by a person, sometimes even places. It is at the time of their friendly vacation that she realizes that this is an important matter in people’s lives, including hers.
Baekhyun says time and time again that there is nothing better than relaxation, and that is something very common because not a lot of people—if any, really—like stressing out. It’s because of that reason that three years ago they had come up with an idea, doing their best to have a free week a year simply to spend it with one another. Normally, they travelled to any part of the country and simply lived out of tourism and loud laughter, but it was Baekhyun’s pick that year and while he had picked a good place to go around of to visit and take pictures, there was one little detail she realized when she sat in Baekhyun’s car.
His car is very put together, he normally uses it because he prefers being driven around than driving on his own, but the material of the seats feel brand new, the AC still works (the heater does, too) and someone with that type of car had to be well-put in the economic sense. Therefore, it is quite an irony that Baekhyun had not opted to make them stay at a cabin or a hotel, not even at a rented house with different rooms, he had picked a motel out of all places, saying that “it will be an experience”, when in reality she is trying to hide her face behind his back, holding his shoulders and walking behind him with utter embarrassment.
Motels are not places that are normally shared with a best friend, much less a room, but Baekhyun swears up and down that it is nothing. Her body is practically pressed to his taut back, the fabric of his oversized white t-shirt bundled by her hands as she gives small steps through the hallways and towards the room. The receptionist had not cared about the woman behind the handsome man’s back, her face just showed blankness and complete disinterest, but his best friend was wholly terrified.
“What if people see me here? What if your coworkers see you here with me or vice versa?”
Anyone who met Baekhyun would not guess that he was actually comfortable, warm and broad, but all those three would be perfect descriptions for how he feels as she tugs on his shirt. Baekhyun’s fingers fiddle with the keys, carrying his bag over his shoulder while she drags her luggage with a free hand. This was definitely not the type of vacation she imagined. “I’m running short on money nowadays, so I thought a motel would humble us.”
She lets a sarcastic laugh escape her lips. “Yeah, I understand—but I could have paid a hotel instead of staying here.” A short breath is given to Baekhyun, more-so sounding like a sigh. And he moves when he gets to open the door. There is some kind of falter in his step, as if he was trying to get her to stop hanging from his shirt. “Baekhyun, you’re a kindergarten teacher. Imagine if one of those single parents sees you here.”
Baekhyun tosses his bag on the floor, closing the door behind him and turning around to take her hands in his. “Stop holding onto me like that. You could have ripped my shirt.” Though she knows that Baekhyun does not care about that. His fidgeting came from the annoying side that always tried to embarrass her, as if he was forever stuck in his frat boy days. Her wrists are held delicately by him in front of his chest and he speaks as he looks into her eyes. “And we’re away from Seoul, no one will recognize me here…I think.”
She plops down on the bed, looking up at the dark ceiling, feeling the thin sheets caressing her skin. The room does not do justice to a room in a hotel, with room service and cleaner sheets and of course, vanilla scented candles to hide the smell of sex, which is pretty noticeable in said place. Baekhyun does not seem bothered, however, as he drags her luggage further inside the room. “Wait,” She sits up at that moment, her thoughts coming to a halt as she looks around the room. One bathroom. One mini refrigerator. One bedroom. “I hate you so much right now. Oh my God—” She grips her head with exasperation, standing up from the bed and walking around the room as she complains. “You just had to get us a room with one bedroom.”
The brown haired man chuckles, taking a seat on the bed and taking off his shoes by stepping on the edge of his sneakers. “I said I was short on money.”
“Me. You. A motel. One room—and one bedroom?” She asks him, placing her hands on hips momentarily before shaking her head, dropping to her knees to open her luggage and look for her wallet. "This is it. You’ve gone mental, Byun Baekhyun. This sound like the cheap start of a porno and I’m definitely not here for it.”
He tosses his socks to the side, crawling towards her and standing by her side as he stops her from looking for her wallet. “I promise it’s not. I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I was just…I don’t know, I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
Does she really mind sharing a room with Baekhyun or is she more worried about what people would think of her if she was found inside that room? Baekhyun clearly does not feel any type of attraction towards her and even if he did feel it, he would never make any unnecessary movements to get inside her pants. He is her best friend and they have shared a bed in the past, but they’ve never actually slept on said bed—movie nights? Definitely, but there is a thick line from that to sharing a bed. There are a lot of things she keeps thinking about, like uncomfortable cuddles or misunderstood silences or morning woods that she should not be worrying about. “I can pay a room for myself, don’t worry.”
“But it was my turn to pay for the hotel. Well, motel.”
“You’re going through a hard time, I don’t mind it. I already told you—”
“But it makes me feel bad.” Baekhyun pouts, plopping down on the floor and bringing his knees up to his chest. “I told you I was going to make this our best vacation yet because you were sad about your break-up just a month ago…but I did not think this through.”
Maybe Baekhyun’s ways of showing he cares about her are not the best, and she understands him quite too perfectly. She licks the inside of her cheek, looking at Baekhyun’s messy hair with his lips puckered up in a pout. “Clearly.” She replies with an eye-roll and perhaps, she is angered. Screw that, she’s very angry. Baekhyun had the time of his life fidgeting and moving so she wouldn’t be able to hide behind his back, but now he was asking her to stay and she was really thinking about it. It was late, the heater would not work in that hotel and…it doesn’t sound like a terrible idea to share a room with her best friend. “But if I am staying in this room, I have a set of rules.”
He smirks, all toothy and beautiful. “Anything! Really.”
“No cuddles.”
That must have sounded like hell to him, considering how touchy he is with everyone. “…Alright, tough start but okay.”
“You’ll have to wake up before me.”
Baekhyun frowns, some wrinkles appearing in between his eyebrows. “And why’s that?”
“I don’t want to deal with your hard-on, in case you get it.” The sound of his loud laughter probably bothers the people next door but that brings a smile to her face. His laughter is always enough to make her feel at ease. “And…”
“No,” Baekhyun says as he stands up from the floor. “I get to have rules of my own.”
“Huh?” After one look from Baekhyun, she sighs. “Okay, which rules?”
“One, don’t pick up the phone—”
“No Dua Lipa references. Please. Stop.”
Baekhyun chuckles once again, opening his bag and taking a towel out before responding. “I get to take showers first.”
She moves her hand absentmindedly. “Sure. I don’t care.” Suddenly, she feels the force of someone tugging at her hand to make her stand up. Her chest presses against someone else’s and she watches Baekhyun’s brown eyes directly pointed towards hers as he holds her by the shoulder.
“Thank you for understanding.”
The stars are beautiful outside of the window when she is getting ready for bed, changing her clothes while the water in the bathroom keeps running, indicating that Baekhyun is still not going out. The fabric of her oversized college t-shirt and sweatpants softly caresses her skin when she lays down on the bed, picking up the remote to look through the channels. However, taking one glance at the ceiling once again with the lights in the room on, she realizes the ceiling is not actually dark—her reflection is staring back at her and the reminder that said place is a motel hits her all at once. She closes her eyes, praying that she does not lose her mind in said place.
What seemed to be normal once, suddenly seems a hundred times more out of the ordinary, like Baekhyun getting out of the shower while patting the skin of his chest with his towel, sweatpants hanging from his hips as he talks and talks about how he always forgets to bring something with him in the bathroom. His skin is rich in colors of gold, not necessarily extremely ripped but with some definition in that area, showcasing a taut waist, fairly sized shoulders and over all a manly look that complimented his adorable face nicely.
It only takes Baekhyun a step to lay down on the bed, pull the shared blanket over his body and one glance away from the TV to see that there is a mirror over them, showing their bodies that were each on the edges of the bed. He laughs joyfully and youthfully at that. “There’s a mirror in here. Cool.”
“Not cool.” She corrects, looking to the side so she wouldn’t see her reflection in the mirror. “What do you think they have it for?”
“Uh…I have some ideas.”
“Nope. Not having this conversation with you right at this moment.”
“Mirror kink is a thing, you know—?” Baekhyun continues to tease her but she groans, turning to the side so she would face away from him, covering her ears with her hands. The moon casts through the white curtains and covers her features softly, something Baekhyun notices as he sits up to press his chest to the side of her body, watching as she blinks quickly to stop herself from looking at him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not being able to give a nice start to our vacation, but I promised the rest of the trip will be more than great.”
Now she is interested in looking at him, moving her face to the side to see Baekhyun’s freshly washed face and cute features. “I’m sorry for making a scene out of this. I know you won’t try anything with me, it’s stupid to think more of this whole thing.”
“I did pick a bad room with that thing and all.” Baekhyun whispers as he points to the mirror over them.
“It’s going to be scary once we wake up and look at ourselves over there.” She comments and her best friend laughs.
“Speak for yourself. Girls say I’m the cutest when I wake up.”
“Your mom, you mean.”
“You’re just jealous.” He mumbles and then, he presses his hand against her face. “Now go to sleep, doofus.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
The worst part of life is sharing a bathroom with someone, simply because there is something so private to the place in her opinion that shall not be shared with anyone else. In this case, waking up to Baekhyun brushing his teeth is not exactly the biggest of her worries, but it also is. The man has his body pressed against the sink, brushing lazily as he runs his fingers over his face to take away anything that could show his sleepiness. Obviously, cuteness lingers on his every movement, but that’s far from the point because she really, like really, needs to pee.
Her leg lifts up to kick his butt slightly, more so like a pat, and the man looks over his shoulder to see who had done that—obviously, it was her. Sharing a toothpaste-covered smile, Baekhyun spits out the toothpaste surrounding his mouth and washes the remaining product with water before humming. “Good morning, the peas of my can. Is there anything I can do for you?”
She bites her bottom lip, moving one of her legs out of utter exasperation. “Go. I really need to pee.” Therefore, Baekhyun does exactly the opposite of what she told him to do, standing in front of the sink and obstructing her passage towards the toilet. “Baekhyun, I’m being serious. Move.”
But Baekhyun, whom always liked to feel small and cuddly, somehow wants to feel like he is in power in that situation, standing uptight and strong in front of her. “I don’t wanna.”
She hits his chest, his laughter sounding against the walls as she tries to push him out of the door. “Do you want me to pee my pants in front of you?” Baekhyun scrunches up his nose and surely, he is playful and a jokester, but her words are enough to make him falter the slightest, making his weight easier to push towards the door. “See? You don’t want that, so let me just pee and then you can use the bathroom all you want.”
Byun Baekhyun might—and this is an entire conspiracy theory from her—not know he concept of ‘personal space’ and sometimes, that’s alright with her, just like there are times where she just wants to have more space. It happens when they are in the backseat of a cab and Baekhyun decides to man-spread, leaving her at the very edge of the seat trying to push his legs away in between hushed whispers that scold him. He laughs at that. Or it happens when he hugs her too tightly on special days, like her birthday or his, when he takes up all the surface of her couch when laying down as he talks to her and once again, he chuckles heartedly when she talks to him about how annoying he was.
In this case, thankfully, he listens to her and after she finishes everything up in the bathroom, she opens the door to hear utmost silence. Silence is never common when Baekhyun was around, there is always the sound of his lips humming the tune of a song in his precious voice, but now a pin could fall to the floor and she would listen intently. In the matter of seconds, she closes the door behind her and she feels someone grabbing her wrists and screaming straight to her face. Her mind goes blank, like a whiteboard that has been erased, and she gasps loudly while trying to pull away from whoever grabbed her, but it only takes a second to recognize that small nose, wide smile and glistening eyes.
“Baek—Fuck you!” She exclaims, rarely one to curse, but still deeply annoyed at the man that probably disturbed the neighbors and herself. Her fists land against his arms as he walks backwards, his laugh rueful but he still tries to dodge her fists.
“I’m sorry, that was just the funniest shit I’ve seen in my life.” Baekhyun adds in between laughter before he ended up pressed against the wall, pinned by her fists resting over his chest and the man still grips her wrists when he says with the most innocent of looks: “Get ready. We’re going out.”
“With you?” She asks in between a sarcastic cackle. “No way. You’ll end up killing me.”
Baekhyun scoffs. “I promise I will not. No more surprises.”
The day is joyful with the bright sun hitting their skins, scarves and coats forgotten for something lighter, watching the streets that called out for pictures. Baekhyun had actually brought a camera with himself, though he doesn’t know how to use it (“I am more of a Polaroid Camera guy, if I am honest”, he says) and he takes pictures of everything they see and do. Like how they go and eat hot dogs for breakfast and he takes a picture of them, how he takes shots of the sky and the buildings and the sight of the sea behind them. He still takes up most of the space in the sidewalk by moving too much and jubilantly laughing at her annoyance.
But spending time with Baekhyun is just like he promised when he said he would help her get over her messy break-up, it is worth it. His warmth is enough to make her feel at ease and most of the time, she is smiling and talking about everything and anything. Baekhyun wants to go to the beach, for example, and he also tells her little facts about the sea. Sure, most of them are made up…but he swears they are real.
In the matter of seconds, she feels someone tugging at her arm and she already knows it’s Baekhyun, pushing her in front of a pink wall with some writing on it. I says ‘I love you more’ in fuchsia cursive handwriting, the perfect place for a couple to take pictures, but instead, Baekhyun kneels down in front of her and holds his camera in front of his face, not expertly but he is trying!
“Can you pose over there?”
“Over here?” She asks, pointing up at the sign. “Who do I exactly love more? It would be too stupid for me to take a picture here alone.”
However, Baekhyun seems unbothered by what she is saying and instead, he moves one of his hands to boss her around. “Give me a good pose, like sweet and innocent you. Put your hands in front of yourself and smile or something.” She sighs, rolling her eyes and interlocking her index fingers together in front of herself before tilting her head to the side slightly to give a fake smile. “A cute smile, not the I’m going to murder you smile.”
Several curse words pop inside her brain when she responds through her teeth. “I really feel like I could do just that.”
Baekhyun chuckles. “Come on, a pretty smile.” She relaxes her shoulders, letting out a tinier smile that seemed somewhat more fitting. Then the camera clicks—again and again and again, three times until Baekhyun stops altogether. “That’s so cute!” Baekhyun coos as he stands up from his spot on the sidewalk and he rushes over to her, pointing to the screen and showing the definitely-not-professional pictures that he taken. She does not like them, however.
“Delete those. I look like The Crooked Man with my neck turned like that.”
Baekhyun puckers up his lips. “No! You look cute.”
She leans closer, speaking directly to his face. “Delete them.” She tells him while her fingers try to reach for the camera but Baekhyun winks at her as he pulls away.
“Personal space, darlin’.”
One thing she learns that night is that Baekhyun continues to coo at her picture that he took and how all the colors blend in together nicely, and that he loves to use her words against herself. After a while, however, she stops being annoyed and actually enjoys herself, even going as far as taking Baekhyun’s camera and taking pictures of him. Better than his, she might say.
“You have to be kidding!” She adds as she rests her legs on top of Baekhyun’s thighs on the bed they were sharing, the TV displaying a movie in front of them. Vin Diesel’s work in Fast and Furious was known by anyone in this world, and even if someone did not enjoy the movies, they still knew that they existed. Baekhyun claims that he doesn’t remember watching them as he pops a chocolate bar inside his mouth, taking a bite of it before shaking his head.
“Am serious.”  Baekhyun speaks messily with his mouth filled with food before he swallows thickly. Did he even chew at all? She’s not sure, but he seems to be hungry even after the big dinner they had. “I can’t tell the difference between Vin Diesel and what’s his name? Bruce Willis, yeah, Bruce.”
She covers her mouth with her palm. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.” Then, laughter fills the room like bees in a garden and Baekhyun joins in her laughter as he steals one look at the screen. Cars, girls in short skirts and a lot of unnecessary things that were not his thing, but if that’s the only thing that was being aired at that time of the night, then he was going to take it. “Just because both of them are bald doesn’t mean they are the same person.”
“They are bald and buff. Those are two things in common.” Baekhyun defends himself and then he eats the rest of his chocolate bar in one go, hearing her words as she speaks.
“Bruce Willis is older…and he’s in Die Hard.” Definitely, the man had little to no knowledge about movies by the way he tilts his head to the side, throwing the plastic wrapper across the room and landing near the basket, but before she could complain Baekhyun is wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder to look at the screen.
“The guy in Die Hard has hair, though.”
“He was younger.” She adds after wrapping her arm around his shoulders and she sighs deeply. “This is Vin Diesel, younger than Bruce Willis. I believe his eyes are dark while Bruce’s are blue.”
Baekhyun scoffs. “As if I pay attention to that.” He comments and she smiles when she feels his hair tickling her skin, his soft breath falling on top of her arm, his fingers lazily touching her waist. It was absolutely true that Baekhyun is a great person to cuddle. A long yawn leaves his lips after he gets comfortable. “So, is this movie’s entire plot girls, guns and cars?”
“…Yeah.” She whispers and then, she feels the need to press her cheek to Baekhyun’s head. There is something about him that causes her to feel endless love towards the man—not the type of love with anniversaries and flowers involved, but the type that she feels for her friends, when she would give anything just to see them happy. “It’s a classic, though.”
“I…imagine…” Baekhyun speaks in between a long yawn and then, she pats his shoulder.
“I could watch it alone, if you’re sleepy.”
“No, no, let me watch the Vin Willis movie—”
She cuts him off with a soft laugh. “Vin Diesel, doofus.”
“Same thing.”
The mess of limbs is the unity of Hell and Heaven, the background sound being the soft touch of the wind against the creaky windows and the movie that is playing from the TV. If their bodies together are the mix of the best and the worst experience of her life, one coming from how comfortable and sweet this is and the other a reminder of the fact that they are best friends, then the touches in between them are the limbo. Baekhyun’s hair becomes the feathers of birds against her skin, tickling her collarbone with paramount ignorance from his part. His hands by her waist are the roots that unite a tree to the floor. The fluttering feeling inside her chest could be a heart-attack, for all she knew, because she had never felt like Baekhyun was the oceans, the stars, the sky, the even floor that she stands in. Most of the time, she would not even go as far as describing him, he is just…Baekhyun.
But she could not say it was Hell-worthy when she felt Baekhyun’s weight drifting from holding to her waist to actually rest half of his body on top of her, his even breathing and nose that snuggled to her neck indicated just how asleep he was. He said he could stay away, but now he is asleep. She moves the blanket to cover both of their bodies and then, she takes one good look at Baekhyun on their second night of the week they were going to spend together, and she claims that she is only transitorily in awe for how gorgeous he is, nothing more.
For years, Baekhyun and she had organized little one-week vacations to spend with one another, but it was clearly the first time she shared a bed with Baekhyun and it had not been terrible until the fourth day of vacation arrived. There are only a handful of walks and tours they can go to, to make her happy, but it is quite obvious that she is not happy in the situation that she is stuck in said night.
There had always been another room to separate the two, but for the first three nights of sharing a bed, Baekhyun had made sure to place a pillow in between the two—it avoided awkward situations, as well as divided the bed in two. However, he had completely forgotten to place the pillow in between their bodies that night and that meant that he took up most of the blanket to himself. For someone who said that whenever he was home, he slept in only his boxers…he really feels cold for the slightest pass of wind coming from the air conditioner.
But she doesn’t say anything and she tugs on the blanket once again, trying to get the thick material over her body, but Baekhyun is stronger and he keeps it over his body, finally leaving her uncovered for the coldness to reach her. She doesn’t even ponder on what to do, the response hits her like a million bricks falling on top of her and possibly, that’s how her hand feels when she places it on top of Baekhyun’s shoulder to shake him.
“Baekhyun,” The exchange of words is welcomed by silence from his part, however, and she decides to move him a little bit harder. “Byun Baekhyun, wake up. You’re taking the blanket away.” She speaks a little bit louder but Baekhyun only emits a sound that mixes with a whine and a moan, one that makes her roll her eyes instead of basking on how weird it sounds. “Baek.” She tries to calm him in a sweeter tone, taking the blanket away from him but failing miserably. With a sigh, she rests her head on Baekhyun’s shoulder-blade, the warmth of his body keeping her goosebumps at ease before she decides on her final decision.
It was what Baekhyun silently had told her to do and she was going to be too cold that night to even sleep if she does not follow her train of thought.
She wraps her arms around Baekhyun’s waist, the little fabric of the blanket that was placed by his back serving to cover her up. She rests her cheek against his back and for a fraction of a second, she feels the sudden need to press a kiss to his back and fall asleep once again—but that would be weird, they are best friends, not that type of friends.
She’ll think about what Baekhyun means to her tomorrow, but for now she needs warmness.
Cuddling someone to sleep is not a big deal, what is a big deal is that she wants to do it again—every night, if she could, and maybe she is lacking on the dating department and she should really try out that Tinder app that one of her female friends once told her about, but Baekhyun seems a hundred times more handsome when she wakes up to see him stretching his arms over his head, face too close to be real, lips outstretched in a smile and he promises breakfast, which gives him fifty points in her book, suddenly turning him into more than her meagre best friend.
Suddenly, Baekhyun’s eyes stop looking like they are mocking her and she wonders how they would look like after a kiss, when his lips pull away from hers with a slightly wet sound following soon after. She tries her hardest not to look at his arms as he pays for two cups of coffee, decides not to care about the fact that Baekhyun is always holding onto her arm as if he was going to get lost, when in reality he is a whole adult and he doesn’t even say a thing, neither does he question why she is so silent. After apologizing earlier that morning for taking most of the blanket up, he is all over the place with what he investigated with the motel’s poor WIFI. There are a hundred places they haven’t visited and of course he wants to go.
Is it ever too late to realize that her best-friend is very handsome and pretty much the type of person she would have been interested in if only she had opened her eyes to the opportunities? Maybe, but she decides on trying at least on the very slightly to look better than she has done in the entire trip. She wears one of those low-cut cute shirts that hug her chest delicately with a bow and she pairs it up with trousers of the same color, she thinks it was a set and monochrome has been something she is into lately. Not that Baekhyun notices, really, he is just walking, taking pictures, talking—oh that, he does a lot, he talks her ears out but there is no compliment thrown her way.
Maybe, she shouldn’t even be thinking of him that way.
Rarely does she think of the meaning behind relationships and friendships. If she likes someone, she does the most to get that person wrapped around her little finger, but Baekhyun had never been a target. When she met him, he smelled thickly like Kool-Aid and was too smiley for her liking, she always liked the mysterious type of guys, but now that she is older, she realizes she doesn’t want the thrill of a silent man anymore. She wants someone that talks to her, that teases her and says his truth, that accepts his mistakes but also keeps his ground in what he thinks he is right and Baekhyun is all that and much more, perhaps too much of what she had now realized.
And she knows one thing and that one thing is that they had never fallen in love for anyone, in all honesty. Baekhyun has long-lasting relationships and he says that he loves them, but then he admits that he doesn’t really feel anything. It’s easier for him to break-up with someone than working on what was wrong in a relationship and that’s clearly a mistake, but she can’t say she is not the same. It’s more of the fact that she dives into relationships with the mindset of a hook-up, the moment those three words are thrown at her she finds any solace to simply get away from there. She is not scared, neither is he, it just feels wrong.
She must be going mental, she concludes. Her cleavage is clearly in display and she is trying to use her seductive tone on Baekhyun but it doesn’t work.
Can she download Tinder now—?
“And this here is what we call the lake of love.” Now that is something she has not heard of, but the old tour guide seems to be too into the idea of love altogether. She feels Baekhyun holding onto her arm as the man speaks, using one of his hands to take pictures of the lake, just like the other tourists were doing. “The myth says that the couple who has their first together here will last forever.” The soft breaking point of his voice comes from his years of knowledge and Baekhyun is about to move past the lake, take pictures of the buildings behind it instead, but she grips on his wrist and he stops his movements, speaking very closely to her.
“Is there something wrong?” Baekhyun questions and before she could answer him, he responds. “I want to take a picture by those buildings, could you maybe—?” But she stops listening because the idea sounds too inviting. It reminds her of the nights she spent in high school bothering her neighbors with ghost pranks—they were old people and she was reckless, and she is feeling the same once again. With the need to do something that might be a bad idea, Baekhyun might have a heart-attack if she ever tells him, but it won’t hurt her to say it, right?
“Baek.” She calls his name softly and when Baekhyun stops talking to hum at her, his brown hair pushed back by the wind and his shoulders highlighted by his gray sweater, she realizes just how stupid she is being. Her mind is riling, thinking that Baekhyun is also feeling the same itch, the same interest that she holds for him now after cuddling. “Do you know how to download Tinder?” She asks, not knowing exactly what to say and the man gives a short laugh.
“I guess…but I never use it. There’s this one teacher in the school that does, Kim Junmyeon, it is a great place to find someone to hook-up with.”
Hook-ups, is that what she wants with Baekhyun? For her to pin her against a wall and kiss her lips with so much force that she feels the air of her lungs being taken away, with his fingers dancing all across her body, touching her in the ways he definitely could? Or would she like to be the one taking him by the belt of his jeans, pulling him closer and biting on his bottom lip to hear him finally indicate that he is attracted to her?
Although, she has to be honest and all she wants is a good date with a nice dinner and possibly a make-out session, nothing too extraordinary or kinky of sorts.
“I’m going to ask you for something weird and I want you to react sincerely.” She announces and Baekhyun nods his head.
“Shoot.”
“Kiss me.”
“Okay, not that type of shoot. Let’s stop you right there.” Baekhyun says soon after and she feels her heart stopping at the sound of his voice. His fingers let go of the camera hanging from his neck and he presses his palms to her shoulders. “Why exactly do you want me to kiss you?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I want to try. I’m curious.”
“…Are you sure is it not because of the whole lake thing?” He puzzles and he knows her too well, but then again, something with Baekhyun doesn’t sound half bad. She knows him, he knows her and something inside her tells her that he is an immaculate kisser. She shakes her head, however, giving Baekhyun the benefit of the doubt. “Just one little kiss, right? I can do that.”
“Whatever kind of kiss you want. Just to scratch an itch.”
Baekhyun whistles, then. “Scratch an itch. What a way of saying hor—”
“Don’t you dare.” She threatens and Baekhyun laughs, looking around to see a few couples taking pictures here and there, others who were single completely disinterested. In the matter of seconds, she is engulfed by the smell of his cologne as he leans in to press his lips to hers, slowly and very much so inching closer to her until she can feel his lips hovering over hers. When she was going to give that one movement to kiss him, she feels him pulling away and with a cackle, he says.
“Missed me—!”
“Baekhyun, if you don’t want to do this, tell me, but don’t make me look like an idiot in front of everyone.” She starts to complain, a scowl replacing her features because Baekhyun has always been a jokester and she hates that he doesn’t take her seriously. At that moment, she feels a pair of arms wrapping around her waist and suddenly, Baekhyun is kissing her, tasting like too much sugar and a bit like paradise. He decides to give her a whole movie as a kiss, with introduction and conclusion, his tongue teasing her the slightest to let her know he was there, but still sweet enough so it didn’t look vulgar in public. It’s short, it’s sweet, but it definitely doesn’t scratch the itch she feels to have Baekhyun closer, because the moment he pulls away she wants to bring him back.
“And?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrow and she sighs.
“Good.” Her voice breaks, her legs are shaking the slightest and she still tugging at his shirt. Baekhyun definitely knows it’s more than good.
“Alright, good.” He nods his head and then, he takes his camera in between his hands. “So, take my picture?”
She expects more from him, a comment, a compliment, another kiss once they get to the motel, but the reminder of the kiss is like a hallucination, since he says nothing about it.
Perhaps, it means nothing to him.
“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Baekhyun says those six words on the sixth day of vacation, when she is packing and he is laying down on the couch, looking through his phone and speaking as if it was nothing. He has been acting weird ever since that morning, not even after they had kissed, and she thinks it is her fault. What is not her fault, really? She is that gave him the idea of kissing her, she is the one that wants more, she is the one that ruined the entire trip all because she cannot keep her mind away from dating.  Stupid her, thinking that Baekhyun is on the same page as her—because he is sweet and kind and everything she has never had on a man, because he is absolutely gorgeous and she would definitely love to show him just how amazing he is through kisses, caresses and soft words muttered against his tender skin.
And it is so complicated. Too fucking complicated.
Because one part of her brains tells her that the setting is what was wrong, she is closer to Baekhyun than she ever was and he just wanted to try something out with her, nothing extraordinary, but the other part of her brain tells her that Baekhyun has always been there. She had never realized that her most called contact on her phone is Baekhyun, that he has more pictures of her than any other of her boyfriends have, that there has been countless of times in which they disliked each other’s partners and that there has always been something, as if she couldn’t pull away from Baekhyun. Now she thinks it could delve into something else, it could develop, it could grow, that something she feels for him and that she hopes he feels for her.
Because she has had best friends, hell, she has best friends and she knows that she has never felt this way for any of them. She knows that Baekhyun kissing her like that had to mean something, that even if it was just attraction, they needed to solve it. Not exactly working on getting it done with, but talking to one another…yet again, she has never been one to stand Baekhyun’s little spurts of anger.
Baekhyun’s expression is bored, like the type of face a student would have in History class and the first thing that pops inside her head is to throw her pillow at him to get his attention, but she plays with the material a little bit before releasing a sigh. All she knows is that she doesn’t want to lose Baekhyun, ever, the only man whose hugs were able to heal her—whose words were as clear as water.
It only takes two words to have Baekhyun looking at her.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, loud enough for him to hear in the silent room, and Baekhyun suddenly feels less concentrated on his phone or the uncomfortable couch, he can only think of his best friend. His eyes take upon looking at her, covered in her pajamas and holding a pillow close to her chest. She looks tiny, a little bit apologetic, like a kid that had learned that screaming in a public was not good. “I-I guess…I guess I wasn’t thinking straight when I asked you to kiss me and you must’ve been so uncomfortable and it was so out of place and I don’t want to lose your friendship because of this.”
Baekhyun parts his lips in surprise, sitting up on the couch, resting his elbows on his thighs as he interlocks his hands together. “This is not about the kiss. I pulled away at first and then I kissed you and you made sure I wanted to kiss you, which I did.” He explains quickly, voice softer than she has ever heard it to be and she is afraid that she broke this friendship, her throat tightening with every passing second of utter silence. Baekhyun puckers up his lips, letting out a gush of breath. “It’s just—I don’t want things to turn strange in between us.”
She frowns deeply at that. “It won’t.” There is a confirmation that is given to Baekhyun.
But Baekhyun doesn’t take it and he continues. “If you say so,” He initiates but he changes his mind soon after. “Really, I am being serious—the worst we could do is letting this ruin our friendship. We would never work out.”
Just like how he said that they would never work out, she feels the need to fire back, leave the same bitter taste he left her on his tongue. “And what makes you think it meant more than a kiss to me?”
“It didn’t?”
She falters, then, when she hears the sound of his voice—so void of emotion but so full of it at the same time, as if he had been expecting another type of response. Baekhyun is not typically a man of harsh words or unreadable traits, but now she feels like she is walking on sharp glass with only a few spots empty of shards. Does she want to hurt him? Definitely not, but she is not totally pleased with the way he is acting. “…I’m going to be honest. This is not a matter of me saying I’m in love with you, it’s…you know, I have been thinking of how you are handsome and overall a great guy, it is normal of me to grow interested—or at least a bit curious!”
Life is not like one of those romance movies she watches time and time again. Baekhyun is not like the main character of Clueless that suddenly realizes he is in love with someone impressive, he doesn’t make her change and vice versa, but not all love stories have to be eccentric. There can be awkward silences and bumpy starts, boring kisses and faint hugs, the only problem is that she feels like Baekhyun is not in the same page as her. “I think you’re amazing, really, but—” If there is a ‘but’, then she knows there is not a chance for the two to be together. “Hear me out, we would not work out well. You’re always working, so am I, we live like an hour away from one another and whenever I visit you, I have to plan things out and…you know, I don’t want things to turn bitter between us.”
She raises her hands up in surrender. “I am only suggesting a date; I am not going the whole miles yet.”
Baekhyun sighs, leaning back on the couch once again. “I am not going to be your hook-up, sorry.”
Whether she wants to pluck Baekhyun’s hair away just to cause him the same pain she feels inside her chest or she just wants to kiss him, she doesn’t know, what she knows is that she goes towards him, rests her hand on his bicep and with the sincerest tone, she tells him: “Things will not turn awkward, I promise.”
“You’re too far away.” But Baekhyun looks torn.
“…The real question is: do you want to go out on a date with me?”
He nods his head. “Of course, I would not kiss you if I didn’t feel the slightest bit attracted to you!”
She groans, placing her hands over her thighs. “Then what’s the problem?”
“I am supposed to be the annoying one here.”
“But, I learned from you to never give up when I need answers!”
Baekhyun looks puzzled for a moment and at that second, she knows she has convinced him. The man gives a once-over to her, trying to take in the situation, the skimpy motel room, the way she looks at him, how her hand is over his skin and how she has always been there for him. Distance had never been a problem when they were friends and actually, an hour just to take her out on a date did not sound so bad. The timing is wrong, surely, the two started out as friends and now after years of knowing each other, they realize that there has always been attraction lingering on their actions. “Right,” He breathes out, taking her by the elbows and dragging her up until she is resting over his legs. “You like your pizzas pure…or how? I know it sounds childish, but I doubt we will be able to stand a whole hour in an expensive restaurant without making a mess.”
She takes his face in between her hands, traces the outline of his cheekbones with her thumbs and she doesn’t know how to respond. “Is that a yes?”
He nods his head. “Might as well make that stupid myth true and try it out, don’t you think?”
Myths could easily turn into realities, she believes, as Baekhyun’s chest becomes her grounding spot as she places her hands on top of it, kissing his lips sweetly, then deeply, alternating in all the ways she could just to remember him after the vacation was over. Only that it will definitely not be the end of them.
It’s twelve on the dot, the cat-clock that Baekhyun insisted on getting indicates, and she is still pulling out stacks of books, clothes, decorations and whatever else she could bring with herself for the day they moved into their new apartment. Turns out that a year after they started dating, Baekhyun casually and oh-so-rationally decided that he did not want to limit himself on just teaching first grade students and he wants to try out middle school, just as a challenge, and there was a big private school near the apartment that they rented together, one that he picked because he felt like it was time that they moved in together. Too soon for some, perfect timing for them, believing that whatever happens needs to happen and in reality, she thinks it is quite an impossibility that their relationship ever ends in bad terms, if it was going to end at all.
Baekhyun is somewhere in the room grading the first tests he gave to his students and she has lost track of where he was, but she is absolutely busy on making the house look great. Her hair is dirty because of the amount of dust she had to get out of the shelves and the sweat that came with it, one of Baekhyun’s oversized shirts draped over her body to cover her more than her tank-top did and her eyes really want to close down, but she is unable to do it. Her boyfriend should be there, but then again, he is grading and he takes his sweet time whenever he needs to grade something.
And maybe she should be the sweet and understanding girlfriend, a card that she has used plenty of times, but before being his girlfriend she was his best-friend and her back hurts, so with her mouth parted she calls out his name. “Byun Baekhyun, I need you over here right now!”
The neighbors must be angry, but they probably won’t tell her anything for her tone of voice because it’s her first night there and by their left, there is an old-lady with a lot of cats (“We need to visit her sometime soon. I swear I saw Garfield in there.” Baekhyun commented earlier) and by their right, there is a family of one kid and the parents, ones that had not talked much to them, but they seemed charismatic enough.
The pitter-patter of Baekhyun’s steps fills the room and she looks up from her spot on the living room’s floor when she feels his presence near her. Baekhyun’s weight is leaning against one of the wall, a sheet of paper that she deems as a test hanging from his hands, his eyebrows are furrowed as he grades the test and overall, he looks tired yet absolutely adorable. His hair is a mess, he is still a little bit sick from the flu he got two weeks ago and he has pretty much discarded the pants for the night.
It was not a lie when Baekhyun said he slept with no pants on.
“Help me out with these things.” She tells him, pointing at the pictures that she had brought with herself. The grand finale, she calls them, considering that they were a set of pictures they printed on their first anniversary. Two of them come from that vacation that made them realize they were into one another.
Baekhyun drops the graded test on the coffee table and then he goes back to her, taking three pictures with himself and placing them over one of the shelves. “Can you believe this one kid got a D- in my test? I thought I had explained the class well!”
She looks at him from her spot by the shelves and once again, he is taking up most of the space. Some things never change. “He didn’t study, probably.”
“It’s middle school. If you don’t study…what exactly do you do with your life?”
“Hang out with friends.” She explains as she fixes the decorations to make them look stylish, although there are a lot of parts to fix. She tries not to think about it as she wraps her arms around Baekhyun’s neck, her forearms resting on his shoulders and his hands immediately resting on her hips.
“When you’re like ten, you only have like four friends and know twenty people at a maximum.” Baekhyun complains and then, he presses a quick kiss to her lips. “Sorry for not helping you out, though. I totally had to grade those tests.”
“Yeah, good excuse.”
And as she expects, the man fights a smile and yet, he fails. “But the place looks neat!”
“…Oh my God,” She is about to complain when she feels Baekhyun moving her around the place, one step to the right and then one to the left, creating a waltz to dance for them. The laugh that escapes her lips is expected when the man drops her, catching her by the waist and dramatically, making her chuckle as she holds his shoulder and dances with him.
With him, the only man that gave meaning to her I love you’s.
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kurt-nightcrawler · 5 years
Text
Handmade Healing: The Beginning
Warren Worthington III x Female Reader ft. Billy Hargrove x Female Reader
Summary: Jubilee is from Beverly Hills, CA. Billy Hargrove is from CA as well, plus they’re both teens in 1983. What if they were friends? Or what if Jubilee’s best friend was Billy’s girlfriend? 
What if our destinies were predetermined? What if things just happen because that’s how life works?
Warnings: language, angst, mentions of sex, and mentions of self-harm.
Word Count: 2.2k
Author’s Note: I will finish this series even if it kills me. You can all hold my word against me. This is supposed to be around 27 chapters, so strap in everyone!
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Mutant.
The word was something you thought about often. You were always scared, always worried people would find out. Realize you’re a freak.
No!
No— there was nothing wrong with you, but you needed to be safe— even if it hurt.
You had wings. Butterfly-like wings, but less delicate. They were purple, and no matter how many times you cut them off or shaved them down they always grew back, and they became thicker and stronger each time.
So you cut them once or twice a week and always wore a jacket.
Even though you lived in California, nobody questioned it, not your family, not your best friend, not even your boyfriend.
Besides, it’s Cali, pretty much anything goes.  
Everything was going perfect for you.
And then it wasn’t.
-
Jubilation Lee, also known as Jubilee, was your best friend since primary school. She was bright, spunky, and full of energy— she got you out of your shell and made you social.
Her parents were like your second set of parents, always there when you needed them.
She lived in a much nicer part of town— Beverly Hills to be exact. However, she wasn’t like your typical rich kid from the hills— she was nice to everyone and partied harder on weekends than anyone you knew. You probably wouldn’t know she was from Beverly Hills unless you asked.
-
Jubilee was the one who set you and your boyfriend up. They had some mutual friends, and he seemed like the perfect guy for you— good looks, and he’d get you out of your shell when Jubilee couldn’t.
Billy Hargrove was everything most girls wanted— nice car, an even nicer body, he partied hard and had an attitude to match. You, on the other hand, were quiet, and if people knew who you were it was as “Jubilee’s best friend” or “Jube’s sidekick.” Once you started dating Billy you were then known as “Billy Hargrove’s girlfriend.”
-
As a wise man once said, “Young love— full of promise, full of hope, ignorant of reality.”    
Billy’s dad cheated on his mom with his secretary and wanted a divorce so he could marry her. So Billy and his mom moved from their familiar home to the empty house next to yours.
This led to late night rendezvous, parties, and lots of sex. It was like a teen drama, minus the drama.
However, reality had other plans.
-
You walked into Jubilee’s house. It was quiet, so you took that as your cue to head upstairs into Jubilee’s room.
You knocked on the door. “Jubes, It’s me. I brought Jaws 2.”
The door opened and Jubilee stood there, hair in a messy bun and pajamas on her body.
“Jubes did you wear pj's all day?”
“Yeah, I haven’t bothered to change. I have to pack my stuff.” You set your bag on her bed, ignoring the state of her room.
“Where ya going this time?” The Lee family took random vacations quite often, so this wasn’t much surprise to you. They would usually be gone just for a handful of days, coming back with some souvenirs and stories to tell.
“You know how I like, take a bunch of honors classes and stuff?” You nodded. Jubilee was smart, something people never thought when they saw her, as they never looked past her bright clothes and curly hair.
Their loss.
“Are you going to DC for that one camp? I heard Allen Smith is going to that. Maybe you’ll see him there.” You noticed Jubilee’s eyes were glossy. “Hey, Allen isn’t that bad, plus you may not even see him!”
She quickly rubbed her eyes, “It’s not that.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I’m going to a boarding school in New York!”
“What?!”
“My parents really want me to go. Uh, one of our teachers recommended me to the headmaster and he wants me to enroll as soon as possible. My parents think it’s a good opportunity for me. Meet new people, see new things, stuff like that.”
“But… but... you… You can’t leave Jubes!”
“I have to.”
“Why? Why do you have to go to some boarding school all the way on the other side of the country? Our school is just fine and if your parents have a problem with it they can just wait and send you to some fancy Ivy League college.”
“It’s not like I wanna leave! It’s just… It’s just what’s best. I’m sorry.” You nodded, unsure what to say. Your best friend was leaving you for New York.
“You’ll visit, right...? They, they let you come home for like summer and Christmas?”
“Of course! Of course, I’ll visit. Don’t want me getting pasty do we?” You smiled a little at her joke, a bit happier that she wouldn’t be gone forever.
-
Yet Jubilee never visited. Not for Thanksgiving, and not for Christmas.
She never called or wrote letters either. It was like she just wanted to vanish from everyone’s memory. Her own parents didn’t even mind they never saw their daughter! It made you sick sometimes, knowing they just shipped their kid away from everything she’d ever known— that they sent away your best friend.
Being the not-so-social-butterfly you were you spent more time with your boyfriend, Billy. He’d gotten a job as a lifeguard, trying to save up for a car.
You, on the other hand, engrossed yourself in your studies, hoping to please your parents with a 4.0 GPA, as Jubilee’s school switching stunt made them upset you weren’t also recommended for some smarty pants boarding school.
So you were at the library, getting books and information for your physics project.
Placing a book back on the shelf, you saw curly, dirty blonde hair in the corner of your eye.
You turned around, knowing exactly who it was.
“Billy!”
“Hey, baby, your mom said you’d be at the library so I figured I’d pick you up.”
You squinted your eyes, “What have you got planned, Hargrove?”
He winked, “You’ll see.”
“Alright, just lemme grab my stuff.” You grabbed your bag and headed outside.
“Okay, close your eyes.” You do as he said and laugh a little, feeling somewhat childish. He held your hand and slowly guided you forward.
“Okay, you can open your eyes.”
“Oh my god… Is that?... Billy is that?...” You asked, mouth gaping.
He grinned, “Yep. Just got her today.”
“Oh my god! Oh my god! Congrats baby!” You have him a peck on the lips and open the passenger door.
“You can throw your bag in the back seat.”  
“Billy this is amazing! But... why a Camaro as your first car?”
“Because I like Camaros?... Look, I’ve had my eye on this specific car since New Years. Plus I’m a good driver.” You nodded, a little skeptical, but trusting in his judgment nonetheless.
He started the engine and backed out of the parking lot.  
Loud rock music blasted through the windows as you drove by people, making heads turn. It was a good feeling. Something you hadn’t felt in a while.
You were mindlessly bobbing your head to the music, facing the passenger window.
Billy glanced at you. He gave you a sad smile and put a hand on your thigh.
“You doin’ okay, (Y/N)?”
“Yeah, I’m alright.”
“Wanna stop somewhere and get food?”
“Sure.”
-
You only got a soda, but you stole a fry from Billy every so often.
“You going to Sarah’s bonfire next Thursday?”
You shrugged, “I dunno. I’m not really friends with Sarah.”
Billy scoffed, “So? I don’t think anyone going is really friends with her.”
“Yeah, but…” You sighed, “I don’t know... I’m not sure I’ll go.” Billy rolled his eyes.
“What?”
“You never go out anymore. Hell, we didn’t even go to homecoming this year!”
“You said you didn’t want to go to homecoming!”
“Yeah, but that’s only because I knew you didn’t wanna go.” Billy pursed his lips for a second before continuing to speak, “Look I know you and Jubilee were really close, but you can’t just shut yourself out from everything.”
“I’m not shutting myself out!”
“Then prove it, princess.”
You glared daggers at Billy. He knew you hated that nickname. He knew!
“Fine asshole. I’ll go to Sarah’s stupid bonfire.” You dipped a fry in your ketchup with a bit too much force. “There, see? I go out.”
He raised his eyebrows and feigned surprise, “Guess I was wrong.” He then ate the fry from your hand.
-
You got home before dark, however, your house was dark inside, meaning you were home alone.
You walked into your room and sighed and set your bag on your bed. You kicked your shoes off and laid on your back. You squirmed a bit, having some uncomfort.
Getting up, you headed to the bathroom. You turned on the light and locked the door shut, then you took your jacket off.
You admired your back in the mirror, “Okay so they’re not noticeable from under my shirt—” You took your shirt off and gazed at your shoulder blades. “Okay, I should shave tomorrow. Yeah. Shave tomorrow, that’ll be good.”
When your parents got home you told them you already ate and were heading to bed. They didn’t question it and bid you sweet dreams.
-
You pressed snooze at least five times, for it was a weekend.
You only woke up when your mother banged on your door repeatedly. “(Y/N) get up! Get up!”
“Just give me a minute!” You tied your hair up in a scrunchie, and changed your sweatpants for leggings, leaving on the baggy shirt you wore to bed.
“What do you want?”
“It’s the Hargroves.” Your heart was pounding. Was Billy okay? Was his mom alright?  
“They were in a car accident. Billy and his mom are in the hospital right now—” You pushed past your mother and ran to the kitchen. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To the hospital! I need to know if they’re okay!”
-
Your mom had a cow when she saw you take her car to the hospital, worried you’d get into an accident yourself, but you didn’t care.
After parking, you made your way into the hospital lobby.
“Um, hi. Hi. I’m here to see Billy Hargrove.”
The woman looked you up and down before responding, “He’s not taking any visitors right now. Only family can see him.”
“We are family.” You spat. The woman looked taken back and stuttered out an apology and his room number. You didn’t even thank her, you were so quick on your feet, hurrying to see if he was okay. And his car…
Oh god. He just got the Camaro— Unless it was his mom’s car. Maybe his mom’s car was in the wreck. Either way, it was a messy situation.
You slowed down and started mentally counting the room numbers— looking for Billy’s.
“333… 334… 335… 336.” Billy’s hospital room. You had no idea where his mom was, but that didn’t matter right now. You just needed to know Billy was alright. You couldn’t have someone close to you taken away, not again.
-
“Um, hi. I’m Billy’s girlfriend, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You awkwardly waved at the doctor.
“Oh, yes. Hello, I’m Dr. Marcus. We called your parents.”
“Yeah, I came down quickly as I could. Is he okay?”
“Billy will be fine. His biggest injury is a minor sprain in his wrist.” You tried to get a good look at him. He was sleeping, arm wrapped up, and a bruise on his face.
“How about I explain what happened outside?” You nodded and stepped out of the room.  
“Dr. Marcus, what happened exactly?”
“A man went through a red light as Billy was driving. He t-boned their Ford Fairmont.”
At least it wasn’t his Camero.
“What happened to—”
“Where is he?” A deep voice asked. You turned to look at the man.
Great, he’s here.
“Mr. Hargrove, Billy’s asleep right now.”
“What is she doing here?” He sneered at you.
“We called (Y/N) up here. I’m telling her what happened to Billy and Helen.”
“I don’t know why she needs to be here! She’s just his damn girlfriend. All she does is cause trouble and get others blamed for it. Wearing her stupid jacket all the time, and getting her friend sent to boarding school.”
“That—”
“Don’t interrupt me.” You suddenly wished you were twenty times smaller, or that you could turn invisible.
“(Y/N), how about you wait inside for Billy to wake up while I speak to his father?” You scurried back inside the hospital room.
-
You tried to make out what they were saying, but you couldn’t.
It wouldn’t matter anyway, for Billy was starting to wake up.
He let out a groan, probably adjusting to waking up. “Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” He blinked a few times and tried wiping the sleep away from his eyes.
“(Y/N)?”
“Yeah, baby, it’s me. The hospital called. I came down here to see you.”   
“Aw fuck.”
“What is it?”
“They called him too didn’t they?”
You didn’t answer; you didn’t have to. Billy knew they’d call his dad.
“God damn it,” He groaned.
“I’m sure he’ll leave after they give him some more info. You know he doesn’t stay too long for anything.” Billy just rolled his eyes in response.
-
Dr. Marcus entered the room alone. “Your dad’s leaving, but he’ll be here tomorrow to take you home.”
“I wanna stay here with my mom until she recovers. He doesn’t need to pick me up.”
“About that…”
Tag List: @mooniessuniverse @warrentrash 
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lycorogue · 5 years
Text
New Story: Love Taps
I did it! I was stumped for a little bit there as I focused on my Meet My OCs series and my blog post (which I still haven’t written for this week), but I managed to write up my monthly completed piece of fiction! Whoot!
I jumped fandoms a touch here, but you have to follow inspiration, right?
So, I’d like to present to you my first Fruits Basket fanfic.
You can also read Love Taps at any of these three sites: on AO3, on FFN, or on DA
This story is dedicated to @chibisunnie for inspiring the plot bunny in the first place. It’s always gold when we get to chat! :D 
**Disclaimer: I haven't had the chance to start up Fruits Basket Another or the Three Musketeers Arc, so I'm sorry if I have some inconsistencies. I tried my best via the wiki pages...  ***UPDATE: I have now read FBA and there ARE inconsistencies, mostly with Hajime and Sawa’s personalities, and I don’t really ship them now that I’ve read the story buuuuut I’m leaving this unedited. Oh well.... 
Also, this story is about Adult Tohru, so there will be spoilers if you don’t know who Hajime is.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Love Taps
Kyo's little head bonks carry more meaning and more love than anyone could ever truly know. Anyone besides maybe Tohru, who reflects on an entire lifetime of receiving the loving raps on the noggin.
One-shot
Word Count: 2952 Rating: General Audiences
**Warning: Contains lots of fluff, you might want your dentist on stand-by
 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I think I've always known, at some level, that his little bonks on my head were a sign of his affection. It's very fitting for him; to show love with his fists, but in a gentle manner. Those head bonks have always been so dear to me, because they proved that he saw my faults, but wanted a connection to me anyway.
"Kyo? Kyo! I- I think my water just broke! Oh no! What do I do? I know we studied this, but it's really happening!" I paced in a tight little circle, liquid dripping down my leg. "Should I clean this up so it won't stain? Should I go change? I probably need to soak my clothes so they won't stain. Do I have time to do so? Do we have the overnight bag packed? Is my mother's picture in the bag?" I held my pregnant belly as I leaked further onto the floor, unsure which direction to go. That's when I got that delicate bonk on the crown of my head. It startled me still, made me blink a few times as I re-focused, and arched my head back.
"You need to just focus on you and the kid. I've got everything else, you hear me? You always find a way to worry about the wrong things." Kyo already had our overnight bag slung over his shoulder, and was moving to grab my mother's picture to place inside the bag. "Now, if you feel gross, go wash off your legs, otherwise, we should get going."
"Um, I- I don't want to get the seats messy."
"I already have towels so you won't, but we do have a minute for you to wash if you stop dawdling."
I shook my head. "No. I'll be fine. We should get going."
He then smiled at me. "You're going to do amazing." He walked over, wrapped his free arm around my waist, and rested his forehead on mine. "Remember how insanely strong you are the whole time, okay?"
As I nodded, he ushered me out the door so we could meet our son.
That was the beauty of those head bumps. He wanted me to focus. He wanted to help reset me as my world was spinning around me; when I wasn't focusing on the right things, or when I wasn't focusing at all. They were never rough, and they weren't judgmental. Instead, they were always filled with love. In fact, I think I blushed the first time he bonked the side of my head because I knew the love he shared with that action. Part of me must have known that those bonks carried words Kyo couldn't quite say.
Words like 'you worry too much' or 'you need to focus so you'll be safe' or 'I like having you around' or 'please, don't leave me' or even 'you know I love you, right?' Sometimes, they carried the question that weighed the most on Kyo's mind: 'How could you possibly love someone so much?'
"Tohru, we have to go." Kyo sighed as he leaned against the classroom door. He gave an apologetic shrug and head shake towards the teacher.
"It's my baby's first day!" I squeezed our son close to me, and his little arms wrapped around me just as tight. "It's going to be a full day without seeing his adorable face, or hearing his sweet voice, or running around the yard with him."
"I want you to stay, Mama!" Hajime nuzzled his head into my shoulder. "Can't you go to school with me?"
"Okay, enough of this." Kyo softly grumbled. He then took strong and pointed steps towards us before – bonk, bonk – both Hajime and I got little knuckle raps on the sides of our head.
We both blinked, and pulled away from each other as we tried to register what just happened. We turned to Kyo, who blew out a calming breath before resting his hands on our son's shoulders, centering him to face his father.
"You know how a lot of people come to visit us, just to hang out? Just because they miss us?"
Hajime nodded as he wiped a couple of tears away.
"Those are all of your mother's friends-"
"Kyo-" They weren't just my friends. They were his as well, and more importantly, they were his family; I was just the one lucky enough to join that loving clan.
Kyo held up his hand to still my protest. "Those are your mother's friends, and she helped them become mine as well. Do you want lots and lots of friends like her?"
Hajime nodded vigorously, borderline comically.
"Well, then you need to be kind like she is. And you need to be welcoming. Most importantly, you need to talk to them, and show them your big heart. It may not work at first. You may be teased, but you'll then find others just as kind as you, and they'll be your friends for life. Then you won't need anyone else. You got that?"
"Uh-huh."
"It won't work if you are only with your mother, though. Now, turn around." Kyo physically pivoted Hajime so they were both looking into the classroom, Kyo kneeling behind our son and whispering into his ear. "Look at how many friends could be waiting for you in this room. Don't you want to meet them?"
"I do!" Hajime bounced on his toes, a grin stretching almost impossibly far across his face.
"Then go meet them, and we'll see you once school is done. Okay?"
"Okay, Daddy." Hajime squeezed both of us tight before turning and sprinting off to meet his classmates.
"As for you." Kyo stood, and held out his hands to lift me to my feet as well. "He'll be fine, and you need to trust that he'll be fine." He discretely tapped my chest just above my heart. "Just as your mother is always with you, know that you're always with him; watching over him, even when you can't physically be there. Besides, he's in good hands, isn't he?" He addressed the teacher, who looked slightly less exasperated now that my overly-affectionate display had ended. The teacher nodded and gave us a small smile.
"Okay, we can go." I hugged Kyo's forearm to prevent me from shooting forward and scooping up our beautiful child again. Resting his head on the top of mine, Kyo escorted me out of the classroom.
That was probably the greatest thing about those head bonks. They were an anchor. They helped ground me, and even Hajime on occasion. When I was being tossed about in a sea of emotions, Kyo's raps on the side of my head kept me from floating off. Kept me from floating away from reason; floating away from public decency; floating away from alertness; floating away from reality, even.
As I grew older and more mature, the less I needed that anchor; Kyo simply existing in my life was enough. He taught me how to be more alert; how to stay more focused on what truly was important. Having Hajime also helped greatly with that. Soon, Kyo only bonked me on the head once a month. Once a season. Eventually, I realized he had only rapped me on the head once that whole year. Part of me wondered if I should purposely start to let myself drift again; daydream again. Something to call out for Kyo to tap the side of my head. Because I missed it.
I think he missed that connection as well. We hugged. We kissed. We held hands. We snuggled next to each other. None of it was quite the same though, as much as I loved all of it. I think he felt the same way, because the meaning of the tap changed. It now became more of a way to silently tell me 'I know' or 'I feel the same way' or 'it hurts me too, but we'll manage.'
"Uh, I guess he forgot about me?" Sawa-chan shook her head and hid an exasperated chuckle behind her bridal bouquet. Kyo stood beside her, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I can't believe how grown up you are!" I nuzzled Hajime's cheek with my own and held him close. My make-up was probably ruined from sobbing all day, but I didn't care. "You found yourself a wonderful girl, and I'm so proud of you!"
"Tohru," Kyo growled. "Must you?"
"But he's married now! Our baby's all grown up, and I couldn't be prouder of him. And look at how handsome he is! He reminds me of you when we got married."
"Do you really think so, Mom?" Hajime's voice squeaked and he pulled me in closer. "I'm only this amazing, and know how to include such fantastic people in my life, because of you and Dad. You truly are the best, Mom. I couldn't do any of this without you."
We started crying into each other's arms, and I only just barely heard Sawa-chan squeaking an "um" before I felt that head bonk. I pulled away from my son, and saw his blank expression as he also tried to comprehend what just happened.
"You two are pathetic, you know that, right?" Kyo shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "It's not like we're never seeing him again, and it's not like we don't have other kids for you to dote on. Let the boy grow up, will ya?" He then grabbed Hajime's left bicep, and yanked him from my arms. In a swift motion he shoved our son on the back; just enough to push him into his wife. "That's the woman you should be smothering with hugs!"
"No, I get it," Sawa-chan joked, "I'll always be second-fiddle to Haa-chan's mother."
"Pfft, don't call me by that nickname." Hajime scoffed, but there was the same twinkle in his eye Kyo used to have whenever he tried to pretend he didn't appreciate my affection.
Sawa-chan didn't seem deterred, and she pulled him into a chaste kiss to lure him into a hug and quick dance.
"And as for you," Kyo came back over and placed his hand on the top of my head, palming it like a basketball. "Let the kids have their day, will ya? Come on, let's enjoy the party." He then started walking away, pulling me along by the head. It kept me a couple of hops to catch my balance, and after a few paces he shifted his hand from my scalp to my back. He gently directed me to a corner, where he kissed me, whispered to me how much the day reminded him of our wedding, and we danced to the slow song playing.
He had felt the same pain I did. That same longing for our little boy again. He couldn't handle Hajime being old enough to marry either. Yet he was strong, and he helped me stay strong that day as well. He let me know with that head tap that it wasn't the time to be sad. It was the time to look ahead at the wonderful life our son was about to start. A wonderful life that somehow lead to me getting frequent head bonks again.
"We're not going to have this battle every time, are we?" Sawa-chan arched her eyebrows as she looked over at Hajime.
"Sorry, dear, but I don't think it can really be helped. I mean, look at her?" Hajime gestured towards me cradling my granddaughter, my eyes overflowing with tears. "Would you want to give her up?"
"Kyo!" I whined, "Don't make me give her back! She's just too precious. Aren't you just in love? How could you not see her every day?"
"Tohru-san," Sawa-chan again reached for her daughter. "We really must be getting home to put her to bed. We'll visit more often, I promise."
I pulled her closer to me and smelled her hair. "I just need a few more minutes. Or you three could spend the night. We can make space for them, can't we, Kyo?" As I looked up at him I saw a small sneer as he swung to bonk me on the top of the head. It was the first one that hurt in decades.
"Don't be an idiot. She's their child and they can take her whenever they want. And our son is grown now, with his own house and own family. They don't need to stick around here if they prefer to be in their own beds tonight."
I sniffled and slowly gave my granddaughter back to Sawa-chan, who was cautiously watching Kyo. Hajime rested a hand on his wife's shoulder to re-focus her, and she accepted her baby girl. Then the kids gave me kind smiles, which helped ease the mild throbbing of where Kyo had hit me.
"Sorry. Kyo's right. I shouldn't have imposed on you."
"No problem, Mom. We appreciate that you love her so much." Hajime scooped his wife and daughter into his arms, and my heart swelled.
Kyo mimicked our son, pulling me into an embrace as he kissed where he hit my head. "It's alright to be selfish sometimes, but you can't be selfish about spending time with people, especially if it means kidnapping our grandkid."
In truth, I nearly 'kidnapped' – as Kyo put it – our granddaughter loads of times. It was just so hard to let her go. She was such a sweet dear. All of our grandchildren were, and I was getting quite a lumpy head from the amount of times Kyo had to knock me to remind me to give them back to their parents. I didn't mind it, though. I truly did miss that special connection that only came from Kyo's playful bops on the head. It wasn't terribly too long before our youngest grandchild was in junior high, and 'kidnappings' weren't as much of an issue. They were all old enough to leave of their own accord.
Still, Kyo discovered plenty of emotional moments to reprimand me: When our children each graduated from high school, and then college; when they each got married, and when they each had their first child; for every additional child they had; nearly every visit with our grandchildren; and the realizations of how old each grandchild was getting. One of the last, however, was when we had to move.
I sat out on our front porch, overlooking the hilltop scenery we've enjoyed for about fifty-years. It reminded me so much of Shigure-san's home, and all the happy memories I had there. Now, in this home Kyo and I had shared for our entire marriage, there were almost too many happy memories to recall them all. I let my mind wander as I watched the sunset, knowing I didn't have many more to enjoy from this vantage.
BONK!
Although the tap on my head didn't hurt, I still rubbed the spot with both hands. I looked over my shoulder and saw Kyo lowering himself to the porch, these days he took much greater care whenever he had to shift from standing to sitting and back again. A little grunt escaped his throat.
"You were daydreaming."
"S-sorry." I continued to rub where he tapped me.
"Daydreaming's fine, but you looked sad while doing so." He dusted his hands off on his pants, then rubbed his left knee.
"I'm sorry we have to move because of me." I straightened the blanket on my lap and watched as Kyo moved to massage his left ankle.
"Tohru, we're old, it happens. I'd much rather we move in with one of the kids instead of you straining to get up that hill every day. It doesn't matter to me that we're moving, as long as you're comfortable and we're together."
"You don't seem to have much difficulty with the hill."
"I also work out far more routinely and with more intensity than you. It kept my muscles strong. You're seventy-three; it's not a shame that you can't climb up a hundred steps each day."
"I just hate the idea of leaving our memories behind; abandoning our castle like this."
I heard another grunt as Kyo shifted so he was kneeling beside me instead of sitting. With a swift swing and a pull-back last second, he once more rapped my head gently with the back of his hand. He then pulled my head to his shoulder so he could run his fingers through my hair.
"My sweet idiot. You think we can't pack up the memories with us? Did you forget your mom once you had to leave your apartment? Did you forget your months living out of a tent? Are you having difficulties recalling life with your grandfather, or any of the time you spent getting to know me and the other Zodiacs?"
"N-no."
"The memories don't live here." He gestured to the house behind us. "Memories live here-" He rested his index finger on my chest, right where my heart would sit. "-and here." He again tapped on my head. "And don't think for an instant that I'll allow you to forget."
I rested my head on his shoulder and re-focused on the sunset. "Thank you, Kyo. Hey, Kyo?"
"Hmm?"
"You think it's alright if I daydream some more? It's such a lovely evening for it."
"Yeah, you idiot. You can zone out all you want. I'm here." He pulled me in for a kiss on my temple, and he grunted once more as he settled back into a lounge beside me. As we snuggled and enjoyed the orange glow of the sunset, my mind wandered to pleasant thoughts. Such as needing Kyo to bonk me on the head.
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kumkaniudaku · 6 years
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First Day
A/N: A (kinda) short blurb inspired by @oshasimone  ‘s question about how CoCo was on Micah’s first day of school. This also ties into Healing, if you havent read that one yet. Enjoy!
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“Baby girl, it’s time to go!”
“Yes, sir!”
Chadwick stepped from the bottom of the staircase and turned to you with a smile, “I can’t believe she’s about to start school. My little girl is in the first grade.”
“Yep...the big first grade. Great…” Your disinterested and almost nervous tone wasn’t lost on Chadwick, prompting him to make a face at you. Just twenty minutes ago, you were excited about Micah’s first day. Now, you were nervously wringing your hands and pacing in front of the front door.
“You alright, Co?”
“Me? Yeah! I’m fine. Totally okay. Not...not nervous at all.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am so sure. Just fine over here. A-OK.” You gave him the cheesy ‘ok’ symbol with your fingers to supplement your unconvincing smile. “Dandy!”
“Dandy?”
“Peachy keen.”
“What?” Chadwick’s question went unanswered as the sound of stomping feet rang throughout the uneasy atmosphere. 
Micah’s pristine “School Days” Keds matched her navy and white private school uniform pieces to a ‘t’, making you smile on the inside. Your only daughter, the first born child of your marriage to your best friend, was on her way to start first grade and it was overwhelming. Still, the proud parent bubbling inside of you fought against the sadness below the surface.
“You ready, Boop,” you asked while running your hands around the back of her head to tame loose hairs from her bun. “Today’s a big day for you!”
“I’m ready! I can’t wait! Can I eat lunch at school like my friends? Please, Mommy and Daddy!”
“Eat whatever you want, Princess. I pay a lot of money for that school. Eat three lunches if you want.”
Micah’s eyes lit up at the mention of a free pass to consume all the food her heart and growing belly desired. “Really?!”
“Uh, maybe Daddy was just joking around. Right, baby?”
“No. I’m not. Eat as much as you want and tell them to call me if they have a problem. You know my number, right?”
“It’s (213) 6-”
“Okay, okay,” you interjected with a laugh. “It’s time to go. Mommy has to be at work on time so, if you don’t mind, let’s get going! After you, m’lady.”
Micah added an exaggerated curtsey to your off-brand medieval accent making you and Chadwick howl with laughter. Knowing that someone other than her parents or immediate family would be tasked with molding such a beautiful spirit both excited and scared you. Would the teacher be delicate in the handling of your daughter? Would she adjust to the larger class sizes and a formal school day? How would she interact with a new set of children?
Questions plagued your mind as you drove behind Chadwick and Micah in your own car along the crowded Los Angeles streets to Brentwood School. The half an hour drive seemed to drag, creating an idle mind for Satan to use as a cruel playground. Ahead of you, Micah’s hands flailed in excitement as she and her father seemed to engage in a spirited conversation. Her eagerness temporarily lifted your spirits as you parked beside Chadwick’s Tesla and shut off the engine.
“C’mon, baby,” Chadwick smiled as he opened your car door and extended his hand. “Let’s get our little girl t-”
“Big girl,” Micah corrected with a stern finger pointed at her daddy.
“Forgive me, Boop. Let’s get our big girl to class on time.”
You nodded without answering and laced your fingers in his for help exiting the SUV. After closing your door, Micah took center stage, wedging her body between you and Chadwick and grabbing both sets of hands. Her lanky frame skipped and hopped along the sidewalk leading to the building and into the school without a care in the world.
“Woah,” she whispered while she watched students, faculty, and parents hustle to their respective places inside of the busy building. Her energy translated into enthusiasm more than nervousness, contrasting your internal disposition.
Coming to a stop in front of an expertly decorated classroom, Chadwick took a knee in front of his twin to bring them to eye-level.
“Alright, baby girl, this is it. This is the part where me and Mommy leave. Are you ready?”
Micah’s eyes darted around with a giddy twinkle as she became familiar with her new surroundings. “Yeah! There’s my friend Macy from ballet. Hey. Macy!” The little brown girl with a head full of corkscrew curls gave Micah a friendly wave back before disappearing into the classroom. Micah turned back to Chadwick with pleading eyes. “Can I go now? Pretty pleaaaaase!”
“In just a minute,” Chadwick laughed. “Give me kisses.” Micah did as she was told and leaned forward to kiss her father’s cheek. “Don’t forget about Mama.”
Micah rushed into your legs to give them a light squeeze before looking up at you. “I love you. Mommy!”
“I love you, too, Boop. Now, what are you,” you asked referring to the affirmations she’d been reciting since she was old enough to repeat after you.
“Strong!”
“And what else?”
“Smart and brave!”
“And last, but not least?”
“Beautiful and worthy!”
“That’s right, baby. Don’t you ever forget it. Have a good day at school, okay? I wanna hear all about it when I get home.”
Chadwick watched his two favorite women exchange their final hugs of the morning with a smile. The moment that he’d envisioned for years was unfolding in front of him and elated was an understatement for the feelings swelling his heart.
Once Micah was safely in her classroom, Chadwick gripped your hand in his and led you through the hallways in search of the quickest route back to the cars. The journey wasn’t without a few stops to shake hands with staff members that recognized him though he was careful not to make the interactions lengthy. He was aware of your schedule and fought through the throngs of people to get you back to the parking lot in a timely manner.
“Well, I guess this is it. You need anything before you head to work, baby,” Chadwick asked with his eyes focused on his phone. When you didn’t answer, he looked up to you in curiosity. “Co, are you...are you crying?”
“No...yes.” You attempted to blink away on the oncoming tears to no avail. A single droplet of water betrayed you, sliding down your cheek and dropping to the front of your shirt.
A smile sent the apples of Chadwick’s cheeks to their usual resting place below his eyes as he extended his arms for you to come closer. “Aww, baby. Come here.”
Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Chadwick rocked you from side to side with his chin resting on top of your head. Your cheek pressed into his solid chest to feel the warmth radiating from his body while allowing his scent to calm your racing heart. You had no intentions to cry, but the emotions of the moment got the best of you.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart. Why are you crying?”
“She’s getting so big. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. She’s not gonna need me soon.”
“That’s not true. Mikey may not need you to tie her shoes or write her name, but she’s always gonna need you. Both of us will. And, if we have another, they’ll need you too.”
You sniffled before resting your chin on his chest to look up at him, “You’re right. I just - I thought I was ready to see her grow up, and now that it’s here, it’s a lot. She was more prepared than I was.”
“That’s because,” he started while using the pad of his thumb to wipe a tear from your face. “We did a good job in getting her ready. She’s confident and fearless like her Mama.”
His lips covered yours in a quick peck to soothe the rest of your apprehension as he rubbed circles against your back.
“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m crying right now. I gotta call my mom and tell her she was right. My body has been doing all kinds of weird stuff lately. I think my period is coming.”
“Oh-kay. There goes the moment,” Chadwick laughed as opened your car door. “Call me if you need anything. I have a meeting close to you at around one if you want me to get you for lunch.”
“I’ll let you know, love.” Closing the door behind you, Chadwick leaned into the car through the open window to give you a goodbye kiss. “Thank you for being amazing.”
“Eh, it’s part of the job. Besides, I can finally say that you were the soft parent for once. I can’t wait to tell people!”
“You better not!”
“Oh, I’m tellin’. You’re never living this down, baby.”
Chadwick’s infectious laughter on the way back to his car made you crack a smile through your fake anger and glare at him.
“Should I share the time you shed a few crocodile tears when she got her newborn shots. I have pictures of those,” you shouted out of the passenger side window.
“You gon’ have to beat me to it! I already have my mama on the phone,” the call connected to the other end of his Bluetooth with your mother-in-law’s smooth voice greeting her son with a ‘good morning’. “Mama, guess what CoCo just did.”
“Aaron! Hang up that damn phone right now!”
He looked at you and smiled. “Hold on, Ma, let me roll up my windows. Oh no, that’s just some crazy parent yelling next to my car. You know people ain’t got no sense these days.”
                                 _____________
TAGS: @njadont @k-michaelis @wakandanmoonchild@idilly@texasbama@afraiddreamingandloving @inxan-ity@daytimeheroicsonly@onyour-right@brianabreeze @sisterwifeudaku@ironsquad@killmongerdispussy@90sinspiredgirl@willowtree77785901@maynardqueen101@heyauntieeee @halfrican-heat@purple-apricots@lalapalooza718 @blue-ishx @profilia @ljstraightnochaser@girl-wtf-lmao@dramaqueenamby @royallyprincesslilly @melaninmarvel@thiccdaddy-mbaku@lavitabella87 @purplehairgawdess @unholyxcumbucket @airis-paris14@uhlxis @oshasimone @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @cozyshack2 @zxddy-panther @queentearra @skysynclair19 @retro-melanin @mermaidchansons @misspooh @melanisticroyalty @babygirlofwakanda @wakanda-4evr @sarahboseman @karensraisns @blackmissmarvel @wakandankings @kaykay4454fan @ororowrites @awkwardlyabstract @mixedmelanin @brownsugarcocoabutterwildflowers @sunflowerpsalms @panthergoddessbast @justanotherloveaffair @jaeee-http @iliketowrite1996 @blackpantherismyish @thompettiedatheaux @msincognito67 @reignsxjackson @yaachtynoboat711 @syreanne @ilcb7 @minim236 @yoyolovesbucky
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agirlinjapan · 6 years
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Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars (Week 4)
Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation
Miss the last piece? Read it here!
Check out the RDG Translation twitter!
Help me pay for my next translation project on Ko-fi.
RDG is officially back on a biweekly schedule. The school year is off to a great start, and I have a wonderful class this year! But readjusting to my work schedule (necessary prep and grading means that I’m generally at school from 7AM to 5PM most days plus whatever I take home on the weekends--don’t let anyone tell you grade school teachers work 9-3) means that I won’t have much time for translation for a while. Right now, by the time I get home, all I want to do is take a shower, have dinner, and crawl into bed. XD Give me a month and my stamina should be back up.
As a beginning of the school year gift to myself, I purchased RDG on DVD. Keep an eye out for screenshots here on Tumblr! The animation really is gorgeous.
Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 1: Disappearance Part 2 (2 of 2)
Holding her world history textbook and notebook, Izumiko walked through the door of the audio-visual room to find Mayura smiling and waving at her from the first row of tiered seating.
“Did I hear that Sagara is back? Did he seem better?”
“Yeah. Better enough to be bossy. Sorry about this morning.”
“It’s fine. I’m just glad you made it to sixth period. I didn’t think you’d come to anymore classes today.”
Izumiko sighed as she sat down in the seat next to Mayura. “Sagara demanded I go study. He said he’d be going to the rest of his classes today, too.”
“That sounds like something he’d say. He’s probably just hiding his embarrassment over the fact that he got pulled out of school.”
Looking around her, Izumiko noticed that she didn’t see Manatsu. She thought he had chosen the same classes as her this term.
“Huh? Where’s Manatsu?”
“He was upset that you were upset, and ran away from the classroom building. He’s an idiot.”
“Uh… What should we do? We should go after him.”
Mayura shook her head as Izumiko cringed. “There’s no point. He hates school, and there’s nothing we can do about it. I have a feeling he’s already started his duties for the riding club. Don’t go after him. Your studies depend on you being here, so just do what Sagara said.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been thinking of myself,” Izumiko responded, looking down.
Mayura snickered. “That’s not true. Wouldn’t you say it’s more like you’ve just been thinking about Sagara? It seems to me that you’re just not using his name.”
Izumiko began to protest, but then she realized there was no point in denying it. Her chest felt so much lighter now that Miyuki was back.
When it became clear that Izumiko wouldn’t respond to her words, Mayura said in a carefree voice, “Anyway, this helps to settle one issue. I’m glad Sagara’s okay, too. Now you can go on with your life without becoming a shut-in, and we can get back to the way things were before the festival.”
“Yeah… That’s good.”
Izumiko was able to smile back at her. She still felt a little upset over Miyuki’s disappearance, but all the same, what Mayura had said was still correct.
Seeing as I didn’t go with Masumi, and I stayed here in the present at the school, I should really make sure I don’t regret my decision…
With that in mind, Izumiko threw all her effort into returning to her normal, everyday life at Houjou Academy.
At this point in time, the one thing Izumiko was most worried about was showing her face in student government.
Mayura had told her that President Kisaragi wasn’t angry, but that wasn’t enough to comfort Izumiko. She had heard talk of how all the electronics had stopped working in the middle of the festival, and she knew how difficult that must have been for the staff working then. The other concern that weighed heavily on her mind was what it must have looked like to the other government members when she had run off and abandoned her station.
“Manatsu and I totally disappeared on them that day too,” Mayura said in an attempt to cheer Izumiko up. “Ask Sagara. We skipped out on work just as much as you did. If everyone here was pissed off at us, they probably wouldn’t let us come back, but here we are. Let’s just go in there, bow our heads, and say, ‘I’m sorry.’ We’ll apologize together.”
Mayura’s reasonable tone reassured Izumiko.  
I’ll give Okouchi a serious apology first. From there…
When Izumiko and Mayura reached the second floor where the student government room was, they found the two second year students Yoshifumi Okouchi and Ryouta Hoshino standing with Miyuki. All three of them were chatting happily. After working herself up so much, it all felt very anti-climactic. When they did finally notice the two girls, the big and little bespectacled duo simply looked at them with expressions that said, “Oh, you’re here,” and continued on with their ridiculous discussion without pause.
Reading the atmosphere, Mayura forewent apologizing and simply joined the conversation. Izumiko decided to follow her lead and skip the apology as well.
I wonder what excuse Miyuki made to the older students. Why did they let him start palling around with them again so quickly?
Izumiko thought about this as she looked around. Miyuki was still in his blazer with the necktie tightly cinched around his neck. It didn’t seem like he was trying to impress the older students. His tone was light, and he laughed along with Okouchi and Hoshino, but he added his own thoughts and comments to the conversation as well.
Izumiko was reminded of her trip to Tokyo in the third year of middle school. After she and Miyuki had run away from the Municipal Government Building, she had been sure that her teachers and classmates would lecture her on her actions. However, the whole event had seemed to disappear into obscurity while she wasn’t looking. Both the Sagaras, father and son alike, seemed to have some secret ability to manipulate any situation into going the way they wanted it to.
Now that I think of it, Mr. Sagara and Miyuki probably got together and had some sort of talk after the school festival…
That concerned Izumiko. The things Yukimasa had to say were generally alarming. Miyuki had said that he had chosen to take the tests at the hospital, but the fact that he had gone to there at all was still unsettling to her. Miyuki’s health concerns were most likely larger than he was letting on.
I haven’t thought about that until now. They must have found out something from all those tests and measurements they’ve taken of me…
For all those years, Yukimasa had taken her to the university hospital for testing. As much as she hated to admit it, they had most likely been gathering data on her each time. The ascetic monks, hiding from the modern world as they did, would certainly have people in places like a hospital to do such things.
They’d do it—I’d be dumb to think otherwise. I mean, Dad works at a computer company in Silicon Valley…
As she considered this in the depths of her mind while vaguely following whatever silly story Hoshino was telling, she, and most of the student government, assembled in the club room. Besides Manatsu who had given the riding club priority, they were all there. This was their first time meeting since the school festival, the biggest affair of the year, had ended.
Jean Honoka Kisaragi, along with second year Rena Akinokawa, was the last to appear. Once the student government president was in attendance, the group quieted down.
“Sorry that I’m late. Let’s get started.”
Honoka clothed her delicate frame in a boy’s uniform, and wore her dark blonde hair in an extremely short style. While she had been busy with the festival, her hair had seemed to grow longer than it usually was, but judging by her appearance now, she had visited a salon since then.
Rena, who was taller than Honoka, styled her long hair in pigtails and wore a skirt. As a result, when they stood next to each other, there was a certain impact to their duel appearances that even members of the student government hadn’t gotten used to yet.
The student president looked around at the group with her brown eyes, and then proceeded with the meeting.
“Good work on the Warring States era school festival. It was a shame that we ran into some unpredictable trouble over the two days and things couldn’t go exactly to plan, but the staff pulled together everything they had, and I think everyone could tell that we made it work. I personally think we can boast that we did a great job all the way to the very end. The chairman thinks so, too. We attracted a lot of visitors, and there aren’t many people who would say the festival ended badly.”
Honoka’s tone might have been flat, but words she spoke were from her heart. The government members listened quietly as their president continued after a moment’s pause.
“Please be thorough as you fill out the personal questionnaire. You can reflect on your experience and any problems you ran into on it. Now that the festival’s over, there are just two more things I want to check in with you about. The first is do you think that the student government accomplished as much as you expected it to during the festival? And the second is, what exactly was the accident that happened during the Warring States game? The first year student government members who disappeared during the game, clue us in on this.”  
Without thinking, Izumiko ducked her head. Mayura and Miyuki sucked in a quiet breath as well. The rest of the first year members did not react.
The second year bespectacled duo zeroed in on the unpleasantness of what Honoka had just said.
“President,” Hoshino said quietly, “we promised you wouldn’t bring that up.”
“Promised?” Honoka retorted coldly. “Who did you promise that to?”
When Hoshino could not answer, Okouchi responded instead. “It didn’t affect the outcome of the festival, so wouldn’t it just be better not to get into that right now? We all know there must have been reasons for their actions, after all.”
Honoka crossed both arms over her chest.
“You two. Were you bribed? If you were, Sagara’s definitely the one behind it, isn’t he? What was the bribe? Figurines? Comic books?”
“Uh… Well…”
As Okouchi stuttered, Miyuki raised his hand a few inches, and then made his own statement. “You’re right, President. I asked them not to bring it up. In return, I promised them a new book that’s coming out this winter.”
After hearing this surprising information, Rena looked back and forth between the bespectacled duo.
“He seriously swayed you with that? What great principles.”
Honoka cleared her throat, and said, “I can understand why Sagara would want to avoid the topic. Up until now, it’s not something we’ve discussed together as an entire group. But now that everyone’s together, I think it’s time to bring light to what happened at the Warring States era festival.”
As the president turned her eyes to her, Izumiko found herself opening her mouth to speak without knowing what she was doing.
“I’m sorry. Um, I really do think it was wrong of me to leave my post. I meant to apologize right away. I’m sorry for not saying anything from the start.”
“If the first years didn’t get all their work done, then I’m as much to blame,” Mayura said smoothly from beside her. I joined the game, and didn’t do any of my kuroko duties. The festival went beyond anyone’s expectations. It couldn’t really be helped, wouldn’t you say?”
“Um, Mayura ended up becoming a really important part of the festival, and I think it would be wrong to say she didn’t do her job,” innocent looking Wataru Shimamoto added. “Tamura and I worked really hard, and wasn’t Izumiko really cool at the end?”
At this, everyone silently stared at Wataru. Wataru blinked, and then blinked again.
“Ah. Um… Should I not have… said that?”
Honoka let out a large sigh.
“Sorry. My wording was wrong. I had planned to ask Izumiko and the others who disappeared from their positions about what happened, not interrogate them for information. You’re all right. I spoke too harshly,” she said. Her expression was stiff as she placed both hands on the desk. “I believe that the people assembled here are all necessary in some particular way. Therefore, we all have a right to know when something happens. So before we continue, I have to tell everyone that I am not the true student government president.”
“Honoka. Is this a good idea?” Rena asked sharply.
Honoka nodded back at her. “It’s fine. My term is over. Houjou Academy’s student president has been the same person since the school was founded—Hodaka Murakami. I’m not going to hide that anymore. I think you’ll be seeing President Murakami around here from now on, too.”
No one said anything, their expressions mixed. After looking around at everyone, and seeing this, Honoka added in a small voice, “It looks like that lie isn’t news to anyone here, huh? That’s why you couldn’t talk freely with me, isn’t it?”
“It does seem like you were lying to us, but… could you tell us why you decided to announce it here?” Hoshino said in a halfhearted voice. “Are you planning to tell the rest of the student body?”
“Um, uh, I hadn’t heard…” Wataru shared in an even smaller voice than before.
Honoka smiled at him. “Then it looks like I have a reason to change my ways and share the story.”
Izumiko, Miyuki, and Mayura had all been very much aware of Hodaka Murakami, the shadow student government president. Izumiko and Miyuki had met the young man himself. He was also a kabuki actor, and while he was technically enrolled in the school, he could almost never be in attendance. Unfortunately, there was no way of telling if Honoka actually planned to explain the reason Hodaka hid in the shadows.
The student government members sat stiffly, waiting attentively to hear more.
After explaining how Hodaka was a kabubi actor, Honoka went on. “But until Hodaka can truly appear as our representative, he’s had someone else sit in for him and let people think that this other person was the real president. There are things even Hodaka can’t do from afar, and this arrangement has kept that private. Once it becomes known that Hodaka is a “chosen person,” plenty more people will probably want to work for him though.”
This raised questions from a number of student government members.
“Chosen person?”
“What is he a chosen person for?”
Honoka answered. “He is a judge of people. He will choose one person with the greatest powers from among the students here at this school. While there are many unique students here, if there really is one who excels above everyone else, they’ll stand out here. That is the main objective of Houjou Academy. You could even say that this is the whole reason why it was built.”
“You’re saying that this is a school to find the person with the greatest magical abilities?” Okouchi said disbelievingly.
Honoka nodded, her expression serious. “That’s what the chairman based it as. Because of that, when the accident at the Warring States era festival happened, a number of different theories sprung up. There was excitement over such great proof that the person they were looking for was out there. It was a good result. And seeing as there were students who had disappeared at that same time, everyone now knows that they were at the center of the strange event.”
Izumiko felt ice run through her body.
“President Kisaragi, what will be done with that information?” Miyuki countered, his voice loud. “Isn’t this the same thing as an investigation? Even though Hodaka has been supposedly hidden away, what you’re saying now about him choosing a student doesn’t follow that.”
“Anything could happen at this point, Sagara,” Honoka responded coolly. “The tables have turned. President Hodaka plans to reveal himself to everyone, and now that he’s made his choice, he’ll receive active support in that decision. This isn’t a bad thing.”
“But…” Wataru said, his eyes wide as he stared at Miyuki. “Are you saying that Sagara’s the person he chose?”
The effect was instantaneous. Miyuki fell silent.
“What if that’s right, Sagara?” Mayura murmured.
Just then though, Okouchi broke in slowly. “That’s not it. It’s probably not Sagara. I have a feeling that I know who it is. I noticed something weird before the festival, but now, I can’t say that it’s weird at all.”
The two other second year boys, Imai and Shibata were heard murmuring quiet me too’s. Izumiko clutched her hands together on her lap.
I can’t hide it anymore… Everyone knows…
Honoka gazed at Izumiko who sat there, unable to raise her head. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “Nothing’s going to necessarily happen. It just means that all the groups involved who have been hiding and feeling each other out are going to actually make themselves known. That’s all. I think I’m right to consider that we have bonds as a student government. We could become a powerful group if we combined our strengths. And now with the school festival over, it’s time to start thinking about what this group’s going to look like next year.”
“Woah,” Hoshino broke in, surprise evident in his voice. “We’re already moving onto that? Choosing next year’s student government officers?”
“This year’s staff was full of talented people, so it will be hard to choose next year’s.” Honoka’s expression was serious and unsmiling. “Ichijo Takayanagi is in your year.” She looked towards Miyuki and the others. “Have you given him any consideration?”
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More Than Just Studying ll Stuart Twombly AU(smut)
Word Count: 4009
Warning: smut, bad language, oral (male receiving) rough unprotected sex
(sorry if i’ve forgotten anything else)
Author’s Note: Okay so this was a little fic i wrote for Stuart week i haven’t written many fics and this is the first one i’ve ever written for stuart so hopefully it’s okay and i hope you like it. Plus apologies for my punctuation and stuff i plain suck at it :) 
@sarcasticallystilinski @rememberstilinski
Also a big thanks to @mf-despair-queen for giving me the courage i needed to actually write the fic again i hope you all enjoy.
Pairing: Stuart x reader
I have known Stuart for 2 years now. I had met at the start of the first semester of my first year at University, when he knocked me down on the way to my first lecture. I was studying a BA in computer science and software engineering and had been running late when the tall muscular beanie wearing boy had crashed right into me. Apparently i was going the wrong way and he was in my class. But i only realised that when i walked into the lecture 10 minutes late with my cheeks painted a cherry red. I apologised profusely to my lecturer and scattered up the rows to find a seat as quickly as i could to divert the attention from myself. As i got situated in my chair my  eyes roamed the room. Landing on a pair of familiar whiskey coloured eyes sat two rows behind with a smirk playing on his lips. I could tell just from that look that this boy would be the bloody death of me.
During my second week i was told by my lecturer that the class would be part taking in group projects where you would have to analyse data and process it within your group. Unfortunately for me, i had been paired with beanie boy and two other boys around my age. I had agreed with the boys that we would meet up every morning at 9 to work on the project together. We all sat around the library table discussing what each person would focus on and to what time scale you would all work to. However every time i spoke i realised beanie boy, who i  later found out was named Stuart, was always staring into space and ignoring everything i was saying. It pissed me off to no end but it wasn’t my grade that was gonna suck so i didn’t really care.
Stuart POV
Two weeks in and we had already been divided into groups to complete a class project. I hated working with other people I always found i work better when I’m alone. Being alone means less distractions and more time focused on passing this course. However luck was not on my side as the class project was mandatory and counted towards marks for our mock exams. Although a little luck may have been there as Y/N was put into my group. Since bumping into her in the hallway i haven’t managed to shake her from my thoughts, sometimes I would even catch myself daydreaming about her when I had gone back to my dorm for the night. She was driving me mad. Between the 4 of us we had  agreed to work on the project every morning in the library to make sure it was completed in the allocated time. So here I was at 9 o'clock in the morning trying to work out codes as she sat across from me looking as beautiful as ever. Every time she spoke I couldn’t help but wander off into a little daydream about her.
She sat there with her pen between her lips smirking as she glanced at the paper in front of her. Her gorgeous H/C tangling down in front of her face. It made me want to push it behind her ear and kiss her like my life depended on it. Her eyes caught mine as she stood from her chair.
“ like what you see Twombly” she purred in a sultry voice as she unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. I gulped as she started to unbutton the rest showing me a magnificent view of the soft red lace that adorned her chest. The red highlighting the plump perky tits that were hidden behind them. A blush formed on my checks as I felt my cock strain against the fabric of my jeans.
“fuck” I mumbled as she pushed the books from the table top and climbed up to crawl towards me. As soon as her gorgeous breasts had reached my face she stopped, lifting my chin to look her in the eyes.
“I want you to fuck me right here Stuart. I want you and only you”
My mouth hung open in shock at what she had just said. My dick throbbing against my trousers. All I could do was blink. She sat up and looked at me with a confused look
“Stuart are you okay?”
“Stuart….” She said clicking her fingers in front of my face.
“fuck…. uh… what?” I choked startled clearing my throat.
“ I asked if you were okay? You seem a little distracted” she smiled sweetly at me.
“Eh… yeah… yeah I’m good just eh t-tired” I stumbled trying to hide the tent in my pants.
“Okay well we can stop for now. Have a break and try again tomorrow?”
“Yeah sure let’s do that”
We all agreed and decided to meet a little later the next day so we wouldn’t all be tired. I waited until everyone had left before I threw my rucksack in front of my crotch so no one would see the boner I was sporting. I rushed back to my dorm room deciding on having a cold shower to rid myself of the thoughts I was having of her.
As I walked into the bathroom and stripped myself of all my clothes my thoughts started to linger back to the library.
“shit” I mumbled rubbing my hands down my face. I quickly turned the shower on to the cold setting and jumped in. The cold water hit off of my heated skin cooling me down as shivers started to rack through my body. I turned the dial a little letting warm water rushed through the shower head. I tipped my head back letting the stream of water hit my chest. Relaxing under the water my head started spinning into another daydream.
As I stood in the shower I felt warm petite arms wrap around my waist hands reaching up to explore the small hairs on my chest. I turned my body to face the culprit to find Y/N standing there completely naked. My eyes widened as my stare raked across her entire body taking in every curve and freckle. She was so beautiful. Her delicate fingers wrapped around my slightly toned biceps. Pulling herself closer to me so her chest was touching mine. I could feel her plump tits rubbing against me making my hard on even harder if that was even possible. She reached up and placed a chaste kiss to my lips.
“ so how about it twombly you just gonna stand there or are you gonna fuck me”
Again I was stood there flabbergasted but I furiously nodded my head to let her know I definitely wanted this to happen. Her hands returned to my chest rubbing circles as she slowly kissed down my body. My eyes gripped shut as she moved lower and lower. I only once opened my eyes again to see the delightful view of her crouched on her knees in front of me with her fingers wrapped around my cock. I shuddered at the feeling as I saw her slightly part her lips as she moved closer.
*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*
“ come on Stu you’ve been in there for ages. I’m desperate for a piss”
I groaned looking at my hard on again. What the hell was this girl doing to me.
“Yeah sorry bud I’ll be right out”
I turned the dial to switch the water off climbing out of the shower to grab my towel. I quickly fixed my dick so my roommate wouldn’t see the hard on through the towel and walked back into our shared room.
That night all i could think of was her. How gorgeous she was and how hot she looked just before she was about to stick my dick in her mouth. I know it didn’t actually happen but fuck me i wanted it to. All i thought about was her even in dream state.
The next morning i  woke up covered in sweat with a raging boner. I had dreamed about her again. This time was worse though as i had actually pictured me pounding my cock into her tight little pussy. My name rolling off her tongue as she clenched and came all over my cock. This girl had me hooked and i didn’t like it. Not one fucking bit. I decided there and then that once this stupid group project was finished i would avoid her altogether. Maybe by not seeing her it would help me to stop thinking about her.
Y/N POV
After we had finished our group projects Stuart seemed relieved to be getting away from me. I didn’t think he would hate me. I mean we had our disagreements during the project but i didn’t think it was enough for him to avoid me. But that’s exactly what he did. He wouldn’t look at me in the hall or offer any help if we were placed in a group again. He was being a class A dickhead or maybe he just wasn’t interested in me and i was to hopeful to notice.
Present day
As the months went by University became a big struggle for me. I had managed to get into the course through a scholarship but recently the accommodation funding had fallen through and i had to provide the funds myself. Meaning i had to get a full time night job to cover all the living costs. I was wearing myself thin and was really struggling to keep up with all the class work. I would spend 9oclock in the morning till 10 studying in the library before class started. Then would sit in class from 10:15 till 2:30. I would then have a small amount of time to get back to my dorm and grab lunch before having to get changed to start my shift at the pub at 4:30 to then finish at 12:35. When i reached my dorm at 12:45pm i instantly crashed out on my bed to fall into a deep slumber before my alarm would jolt me awake again at 8am. I needed help and because i was so tired i could barely focus during class. I was falling behind big time. Luckily for me the holidays were coming up so i would have 6 weeks of no classes before finals started. Which meant i could get a longer lie and do all of my studying during my previous class time. But i was still going to need help and a lot of it and there was only one person i could think of to ask. Stuart. I know he had been avoiding me for the last two years but he was the only person i had really spoken to i didn’t have much time to make friends so i didn’t really have any and all the teachers would be off during the holidays so he was kind of my last hope. I decided i would catch him on a good day and talk to him once he had finished his last coding lecture. As soon as the bell rang to dismiss class i barrelled out the double doors and waited in the corridor for him to emerge. He was one of the last students out sauntering through the doors with his backpack slung across his muscular shoulders.
“Hey Stuart…. Could i have a quick word with you?” i quickly stumbled out as he almost walked straight past me.
“Eh.. sure whats up?”
“Well its just im really falling behind in class and was wondering if you could possibly help me study over the summer before finals start?” I looked to the ground embarrassed of the fact that i wasn’t doing so well in class. I looked up to see a reluctant smile on his face.
“Sure… I’ll help ehm will we just meet at the library around 10”
“That would be amazing thank you so much” i uttered excitedly as i threw my arms around him.
“You have no idea how much you’re helping me out. Again thanks” i said dropping my arms back down to my side.
True to his word Stuart helped me study everyday at 10am down at the library. He seemed a little more at ease with me and would even talk to me about things not related to the course. It seemed that over the weeks you were actually becoming friends. Then like a switch he flipped again acting very cold and sometimes bailing on your study sessions.
Stuart POV
I agreed to help Y/N with her studying i knew it would be a bad idea but i hated knowing she was struggling. I would meet her everyday at the library at 10 and we would sit for hours going over the coursework and even talking about other things too. I suppose you could say we were starting to become friends. That’s when everything started again. I had been getting to know her on a more personal level and i found myself starting to have the dreams again more frequently. I had managed to go a whole 2 years with maybe one dream a month but now it was every day and i couldn’t handle it anymore. So i started to distance myself again and even made lame excuses to ditch the study sessions. Eventually she got sick of it and turned up at my dorm room door after i had given her yet another lame excuse.
“Are you shitting me Stuart i am really fucking struggling here and your palming me off to play the xbox” she yelled as she stepped into the room seeing the game up on my television screen.
“I’m sorry……i just needed a chill day” i muttered
I could see the tears well in her eyes as she looked at me.
“I’m sorry Stuart…. I’m just really struggling” she whimpered as a stray tear fell down her cheek. I motioned for her to sit on the bed more tears falling from her eyes as she explained everything about her funding falling through and how exhausted she was from working every night. I felt so sorry for her i had been a massive asshole because i couldn’t stop thinking with my dick and here she was truly struggling with managing work and all of the course units.
“Look let me help you, we can go grab something for lunch and come back here and study all night if we have to” i said to her with a small smile. She wiped the tears from her face and gave me a small nod.  She had the night off from work so we didn’t have to worry about how late we studied. So we spent the entire night studying until we both passed out on my dorm room floor.
I was sat in the exam hall with the test paper sat in front of me on the desk. I looked around noticing i was the only person there. I felt a presence behind me which was confirmed when i felt hands land on my shoulders and rub down the front of my torso. I swivelled my head to see Y/N standing behind me in just her sexy red lace underwear. I swivelled round as she walked past me to sit on the desk in front. She pulled me from the chair by my collar as she placed me between her legs. Her nimble fingers unbuttoning my shirt and pulling it off my shoulders once she was done. She placed my hands on her lace covered tits as she started to unbuckle my belt. She dropped my trousers to the floor my hard on straining against my boxer shorts. She then latched her finger in the clasp of her bra unclipping it and pulling it from her body.
“Come on baby. Fuck me like you mean it” she purred in my ear. With that i was pulling her panties from her legs and pushing her back against the desk.  Groaning at the sight of her spread out in front of me. I freed my hard member from his restraints and pushed my cock inside her dripping wet pussy.
“Fuck Y/N you’re so tight”
“ oh baby i could fuck you like this all day”
Y/N POV
I was awoken to the sound of groaning coming from the other side of the dorm room. I panicked as i sat up realising i must have fallen asleep while stuart and i were studying. I relaxed as i saw the gorgeous freckled boy lying on the floor just 3 feet away eyes closed and mumbling softly into the carpet. My heart stopped when i heard the next mumbles fall from his mouth.
“Fuck Y/N you’re so tight”
He still had his eyes closed so he must have been asleep. Holy shit is he dreaming about fucking me i wondered complete shocking registering on my face. The next words that tumbled from his mouth confirmed it as he moaned
“oh baby i could fuck you like this all day”
I was completely taking a back. Stuart Twombly, the guy that’s been a distant arrogant ass hole, is having a sex dream about me. Fuck …. Fuck the guy i’ve been crushing on for almost two years is dreaming about fucking me. Holy shit!! To say the least i was gobsmacked but completely and totally aroused. In that moment my brain went blank and all i could think about was wrapping my lips around the predominant tent in his pants. Arousal took over and i found myself crawling towards him. I shook his shoulder a little trying to wake him but to little avail. Again i found my eyes wandering to his crotch mouth watering with desire. My hand slowly made it’s way to his clothed hard on as i palmed him through his jeans. A throaty moan sounded from him as his eyes fluttered open.
“Fuck Y/N what are you doing?” he asked eyes wide as he spotted my hand on his dick.
“You were moaning my name in your sleep so i thought i’d give you the real thing” i whispered in his ear as i kissed behind it searching for his sweet spot. I was really nervous that he would reject me as he was always so distant and mean to me. But the look in his eyes after i whispered in his ear was taken over with pure lust and i knew he wanted the same thing i did.  He looked up at me eyes blown with lust.
“Ever since i bumped into you on the first day i haven’t stopped thinking about you. I was always daydreaming about fucking you” he whispered back to me.
“Then fuck me Stuart” i murmured. I had no idea where this sudden burst of confidence had come from but shit i liked it. I wanted him. All of him. His lips suddenly crashed onto mine as his strong arms pulled me onto his lap. My shirt was quickly removed as his lips started marking the skin on my chest. My bra was the next thing to go. His soft warm lips wrapped around the sensitive nipple on my left breast as he massaged the right with his calloused fingers. The desire in the pit of my stomach growing with every flick of his tongue.
“Fuck Stuart” i groaned as he rolled my nipple between his fingers his other hand reaching down to my trousers slowly trying to remove them from my legs. He removed the rest of my clothing from my body leaving me completely naked in front of him. I felt a little at a disadvantage as he was still fully clothed. So i made quick work of riding him of the clothes that remained on his body. As we stood naked in front of each other i couldn’t help but admire his body and the size of his cock that stood tall against his stomach. I dropped to my knees my hand around his cock as i licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. A loud groan elicited from his mouth as his hands tangled in my hair. His tip pressed against my lips as i took him fully into my mouth. I bobbed slowly on his dick to begin with his hand guiding my head down on his shaft. I hollowed my cheeks making a smaller space for his cock to fit, his hips bucking his cock further down my throat. He reached the very back of my throat causing me to gag as he tried to reach deeper. He stopped thrusting into my throat his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
“Fuck baby you need to stop or i’m gonna cum in your mouth”
I removed his cock from my mouth with a pop licking the saliva i had left from the tip of his shaft.
His hands reached down to draw circles on my clit.
“Fuck Y/N you’re so wet already. Is that all for me?” he grinned wickedly as he looked down at me. He picked me up and threw me onto his bed climbing in between my spread legs. He looked down at me and pressed a soft but passionate kiss on my lips before slipping his cock inside my dripping core. I moan out and bit down on his shoulder as his thick cock stretched my walls. He started a timid pace fucking into me then pulling back out. Once i was comfortable with his size inside me he picked up the pace pounding into me like there was no tomorrow. Not that it bothered me i was reaching my high very quickly the coil in my stomach growing tighter and tighter. I could feel he was close too as his cock was twitching inside my walls and the loud moans eliciting from his mouth. His fingers dropped to my clit once more as he harshly rubbed me over the edge. The coil bursting in my stomach my orgasm rushing over me. He kept thrusting his hips stuttering indicating he was close. I whisper words of encouragement in his ear as i felt his seed spill inside me mixing with the juices from my orgasm. He kept thrusting riding out his orgasm as i panted loudly coming down from mine. He slowly pulled out of me tumbling to lay beside me.
“Wow…. that was” i sighed trying to catch my breath.
“Amazing” he breathed looking at me with the biggest smile plastered on his face. I simply nodded agreeing as i had just had the best orgasm in my life. I looked back at him again the smile faltering on my face.
“ this wasn’t just sex for you Stuart right?  i mean it meant more to you than just that?” i mumbled eyes glassing over as i realised this could all have happened in the heat of the moment.
“Of course it meant more to me Y/N you mean everything to me. I just didn’t think you’d ever like me back i mean come on look at you. You are absolutely gorgeous and i’m just a geeky computer nerd.”
“God stuart i’ve waited so long to hear you say those words. And you’re a hot nerd” i giggled as he pulled me closer to his chest planting a kiss to the side of my head.
“Can i be your hot nerd. Only yours?” he questioned  as he looked at me hopefully.
“Only if i can be only yours?” i laughed. He kissed me once more completely full of passion as he cuddled me more into him. In that moment i have never felt more loved. I smiled up at him yawning as i pulled his covers up over us.
“Get some rest baby you deserve it” he smiled as i closed eyes falling into a deep slumber.
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im-not-a-what · 7 years
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The Witch Doctor on Main Street, Ch. 4
Title: The Witch Doctor on Main Street
Summary: Mr. Gold runs Storybrooke’s herbal shop. He sells remedies that some people consider miraculous, although he’s earned suspicion from florist Moe French and distrust from professionals like Dr. Whale. When Moe’s daughter Belle moves into town, she gets caught up in the rivalries and mysteries surrounding Gold’s line of work. Little do any of them know the true power of Gold’s “magic touch.” But a warlock making herbal medicine may not be the only extraordinary secret hiding in Storybrooke. 
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship, drama, modern-day with magic AU
Chapter: Parents and Punishments [1] [2] [3]
Characters/Pairings: Mr. Gold, Neal/Baelfire, Lily, Maleficent
Read on AO3
Note: This chapter gives the Golds’ perspective on what happened that day Belle was visited by Neal and Lily.
There were worst ways for any given day to go, but getting a phone call from the principal at your son’s school with news that said son had assaulted another student certainly belonged on Gold’s list of Things I’d Rather Not Deal With. Yet the first question to leave his lips was, “Did my son have a good reason?”
“Good reason?” Principal Nottingham sputtered, balking at the insanity he deemed present in Gold’s words. “Mr. Gold, we have a zero-tolerance policy for violence at this school!”
“Could you at the very least tell me who else was involved?”
“If you and the parents of the other students wish to set up a conference, I can arrange an appointment.”
“Other students?” Just how many kids did Neal try to fight?
“Yes—Lilith Vincent and August Booth. I suggest waiting until the conference to discuss this matter with their parents. I want to handle this situation as judiciously as possible.”
“Of course,” Gold said. The words churned in the back of his throat.
The growl had its intended effect, if the principal’s “ahem” was any indication. “Y-you can imagine that this behavior warrants suspension, Mr. Gold. You’ll receive a written statement of the facts and my decision on how to proceed within the next few days. The same will be so with the other children.”
“And if I don’t agree with your decision?”
“You have a right to a hearing, of course.” Another clearing of the throat. “This is a serious situation, as I’m sure you understand—”
“I’m coming to pick up my son now,” Gold said as he turned over the pawnshop’s sign to ‘Closed’.
“Yes, yes, please do. Thank you for your time.”
Gold snapped his flip phone shut. He still writhed at the fact that someone decided it was a good idea to put that man in charge of children. He didn’t trust Keith Nottingham’s judgement as far as he could hurl him. Then again, with the right amount of effort, he just might try hurling the principal quite a distance.
Maybe Gold felt responsible for this uncharacteristic aggression in his boy. Not that he was beating people in back alleys with his cane (despite a few fantasies). But while he provided a well sought service in the community, he wasn’t by any stretch popular. Moe French had sympathetic compatriots.
Some had asked, even begged, for more than even Gold could deliver, he whose gift with herbal medicine astounded his clients. Such a gift inspired a little too much hope at times. To other citizens, the mere aura of the shop, old-timey and steeped in esoteric knowledge, hinted that the man wielded a power they could never understand. That notion earned in turns respect and fear. Once, long ago, the shop had a friendlier atmosphere under the care of Rosalind Gold and her partner Olive Meriwether. Even when its current owner first inherited the establishment, their generous spirit carried on within it. Now, light still played on the glass counters, tin tea boxes and porcelain jars, but most of the store lived in a shadow of whispered memories. The ember of kinder times had been reduced to a flicker.
Gold hadn’t noticed the gradual change until he got a call from his ex-wife confirming she was not coming back. What hope this place had promised for the future nearly sputtered out. Gold alternately had avoided it and hidden in its gloom, even from Neal.
His son wore bravery like armor, reflecting the light of the world around him and hiding the scars. But the scars remained, as did a cloud of anger and sadness. The cloud would rear up, an overdue storm, in moods that took and left too suddenly to predict. Gold did notice that it came around most often around Neal’s birthday. Neal seemed increasingly aware, too, since each year he tried harder and harder to distract himself or pretend to be cheerful. It erupted in an outburst, anyway—maybe some shouting, a few cruel words, often followed by silence and isolation. Then he always apologized: “It wasn’t your fault, Pop. I know it wasn’t. I just wish . . .”
Gold never had the right words. He let Neal guide his response, normally a hug or an offer to get him something, anything, he wanted in town. Ice cream, donuts, a bagel with cream cheese—always food for some reason.
An offer of ice cream was probably not the right way to confront one’s son about a school fight. Gold pushed aside the impulse to overthink what to say to Neal, even when he arrived.
School was still in session, though close to dismissal, so most of the halls were empty. He was left to a relatively peaceful walk to the administrative offices. The reception area provided a buffer to the principal’s office so Gold could step inside, loiter near the receptionist’s empty desk and observe the space. It was then he noticed his son, a little bloodied around the nose but otherwise fine. Further in along a wall, parallel to the one on his right but out of the doorway’s line of sight, stood a row of chairs occupied by Neal and two other kids. Lily sat right beside him with a split lip, a bruised chin, and reddened knuckles on her right hand. She just whispered something in his ear. August Booth, tall and freckled, was struck with the fear of God at the sight of Mr. Gold. He buried his gaze in his lap and clasped hands. He had a couple more darkening circles on his face, including a black eye.
Lily saw Gold second to August. She bumped Neal’s shoulder with her own. Neal looked up, then tried to sink his head between his shoulders. Pure shame. Yet he did cut a glare at August before fully embracing chagrin.
Gold started at a calm stride toward his son. Hardly after two steps, a door somewhere on his left swung open.
“Mr. Gold!” Principal Nottingham hurried out of his office. Gold was briefly distracted by how the man tried to pass his greasy, barely combed hair as a legitimate style. The receptionist, Mrs. Loxley, made a furtive getaway from Nottingham’s office back to her desk.
“I’m here for my son.” Gold barely looked at the other man. His gaze and nodded urged Neal to collect his bag and come along as quickly as possible. Neal was inclined to agree, but as he stood, he regarded Lily like a soldier leaving a comrade to face the current skirmish on her own.
“I just want to thank you for coming so promptly.” Nottingham moved in and made a half-realized motion to shake Gold’s hand. One deadpan glance from Gold stopped him and sent his hand into retreat. Still, he kept talking. “I understand that this looks rather ugly, but we will handle this matter delicately.”
“We?” Gold asked.
“Well, the school board will be informed, of course. I-I can’t help that. There’s also the matter of your son’s permanent record—”
“Mr. Nottingham,” Gold said at a gentle volume, “I suggest you hold your tongue until we conduct our official meeting. I intend to seek legal counsel if it comes to that. Now, as I wish to waste as little of your time as possible, we’ll be leaving.”
By now, Nottingham had put a five-foot berth between himself and Gold. He nodded while trying to smile. “Yes, of course. I just---uh, well—”
“If you have something to say,” declared a woman’s voice behind Gold, “you might as well spit it out.”
Oh, brother. Gold barely held back an eyeroll before turning around.
Magdalene Vincent, sharply dressed and sharply tongued, swept into the reception area. She came to an ominous halt beside Gold, which he accepted since she became a filter for the unctuous presence of Nottingham.
“No, no, Ms. Vincent,” Nottingham sputtered. “I understand that you and Mr. Gold are very busy. And for your children’s sake, it’s best that we hold off further discussion of the matter for a better time.”
“I want an account of the incident,” Magdalene said, “here and now.”
Lily mimicked Neal’s turtlish pose.
Nottingham tugged at his tie. “Uh, well—”
“Not out here.” She sounded weary already. “In your office.”
Gold had to admit to admiration that she didn’t add “idiot” at the end of the sentence. What he didn’t like was how she faced him and, with a conspiring nod, roped him into an uncomfortable session with the already perspiring principal. He would’ve preferred taking Neal home and dealing with the technicalities later. But Nottingham might use the grace period to craft a damning case against Neal if he wished. Magdalene wasn’t taking that chance, and maybe Gold ought not to, either.
With an apologetic look and instructions that Neal and Lily sit tight, Gold followed Magdalene and Nottingham into the office.
Twenty minutes later, they emerged with a story that, quite frankly, didn’t do much to change Gold’s feelings about the situation. Under the force of Magdalene’s pointed questions, Nottingham conceded that Lily had been harassed first by August, although various accounts from the trio as well as witnesses didn’t completely agree on who started the physical fight and why. Lily didn’t seek a teacher for aid, so in Nottingham’s eyes, that made her partly culpable for what happened—Magdalene’s glower not withstanding. As for Neal, he interceded on Lily’s part, first to pull her out of the fight with August, then to fight August in her place. All this had occurred during lunch period, so plenty of students and a handful of teachers on lunch duty could paint a panorama of the event sequence. Lily and August started the fight; Neal finished it with August on the ground.
When the two parents and principal exited their private conference, Marco Booth was standing and waiting with his son at his side. Marco became awash with distress seeing two of Storybrooke’s most intimidating residents already in talks with the principal. To Gold and Magdalene’s surprise, though, Marco prompted August to apologize to them and Mr. Nottingham for fighting with Neal and Lily. The boy begrudgingly did. Gold wondered if Marco was aware that a simple apology wouldn’t let August off the hook for suspension. The old carpenter had a sincere air bordering on naivete. He did what he could to raise his son with a moral backbone, but maybe August took advantage of his old man’s goodwill. He did look chided, if only for his father’s sake.
Once the parents collected their children, Marco lingered to get clarification on a few details about the fight from Nottingham. The Golds and Vincents gladly left the Booths behind. Gold caught Neal meeting eyes with Mrs. Loxley, who returned his gaze in sympathy.
“We need to talk,” Magdalene said as they approached their cars, only a couple parking spaces apart.
“Can’t it wait?” Gold said.
“It’s in both our best interests.”
Neal slowed down as he neared the Cadillac Deville. Lily rested a hand on the passenger door handle of the Chevrolet Bel-Air while watching the adults. Gold checked on his son, feeling the scrutiny, before he replied to Magdalene. “If we do this, it’ll be at my shop.”
“That’s your idea of neutral territory?”
“It’s a place of business, open to anyone who cares to peruse it, but I can guarantee privacy.”
Magdalene looked hardly eased by his reasoning. Yet, after a glimpse at Lily, she nodded.
That was how Mr. Gold and Ms. Vincent ended up talking in the herbal shop’s backroom while the children were told to wait outside. By the time they arrived, Gold warmed up to the upcoming conversation. Suppose Nottingham had the gall to suspend Neal for standing up for a friend, as the boy himself confirmed during the car ride. August, while not exactly a friend, was a tolerable classmate when he wasn’t tagging along with kids who wasted every hour they could spare sneaking in a smoke behind the school or causing some vandalism in the way of graffiti or overturned trash and recycling bins. Lately he’d gotten into some gambling, or his “friends” often bullied him out of money. Today he came up to Lily, first pretending to be nice, even a little flirty, which Lily shot down. He switched to pressing her about his desperate situation—he owed fifty dollars to a kid named Lambert.
Now, Lily didn’t have the cleanest nose herself; she’d fallen in with similar kids who encouraged her to skip classes and stay out late. Lambert was someone she’d known and then made a point to avoid. The last thing she wanted was to give him her money.
Pleas and refusals turned to exchanged insults. August let some thoughtless barb fly that hit Lily on the worst nerve. The next moment her fist connected with his face. So, yes, Lily had thrown the first punch, but he’d clearly crossed a line! And then August retaliated by shoving Lily. She toppled into a lunch table, her face impacting on its edge. He didn’t even get a breath to insult her again or blurt out an apology before another attack from Lily. Neal was heading back from the bathroom when he ran into a gathering crowd of spectators. By then, Lily was on top of August, wailing on him.
As soon as he pushed through to the other side of the throng, Neal grabbed and hauled her away. He didn’t know about the table, so seeing her already reddening eye and jaw set him off to confront August. Despite some solid punches to his chest, August got back to his feet with only a few hearty coughs. Neal made the mistake of shoving him as the freckled boy stepped toward them. Adrenaline in flux and pride on the line, August didn’t give a thought to taking a swing at Neal. Both boys were soon grabbling, punching and pushing each other. The cheering students acted as a barrier to the two female teachers on duty. One of them retrieved Mr. Dunbroch, the gym teacher. While he had a prosthetic leg, he put every weight-lifting man in town to shame. His shouts were enough to bisect the crowd. His big hands grabbed the boys by their hair so they’d be in too much pain to keep fighting. As soon as it was clear he’d just landed himself in hot water, August weaseled out Lily as the instigator.
Gold made it clear to Neal that he shouldn’t have let the fight go on by pushing August. That said, he understood Neal’s indignity from seeing his best friend hurt. What he didn’t tell Neal was his deep displeasure at Lily’s behavior. Yes, it was irritating to be hit up for money, and perhaps August’s remark, whatever it was, deserved a thrashing. But by letting her temper overrule what good sense she had, she dragged Neal into trouble with her. That was not the sort of friend his son needed.
The teens agreed to wait outside the shop’s backdoor—they each had their tablets and phones to occupy them. Thank goodness for distracting technology. Relatively confident that their busy fingers would stick to the pulse of social media and keep their ears away from the chatter inside, Gold escort Magdalene into the backroom.
The two parents were swallowed by the soothing aromas of flowers, herbs, salts and oils coming from the raw materials of his products. The main worktable had a standing army of bottles, jars and bowls. Gold felt a little self-conscious about the mess. It was his work area, so he didn’t need to keep it organized for anyone but himself. Everything else in his life—his house, his showroom in the front, his finances, his wardrobe—were all kept in immaculate order. He never let Neal leave a shirt or even a sock lying around: either it went in the hamper or he never saw it again. He’d drawn the line at cleaning Neal’s room. Neal could arrange his belongings in some manner of manageable chaos. Creative spaces were given exception. Gold’s workroom was one such space—his potions den. His laboratory. A system existed, to be sure, so he could access this jar of ginkgo leaves and this box of goldenseal root, but once they were on the table, it became a collage of concoctions simultaneously in the process of creation.
All past this he led Magdalene toward the room’s front end, right behind the curtain to the show room. She’d caught glimpses of his handiwork before. It still felt exposing. A few comfortable chairs, upholstered in velvet, were summoned from a corner. On a nearby counter resided a portable stove, the barest equipment for making tea and frying up a meal if he couldn’t slip over to Granny’s diner or prepare something ahead of time at home. Gold rarely cared to leave unless urgency pressed him.
“This places smells like a garden collided with a soap factory.” Magdalene wrinkled her nose.
Leave it to a woman who comes into regular contact with furnaces, diesel fuel and heating oil to find the scent of gardens and soaps unpleasant. “Maybe one of my teas will improve the smell.” Gold went over to a counter where a kettle rested beside a portable stove. He filled the kettle with water from a sink and set it on the burner to boil. He then nestled himself in the chair and set his cane against one of the armrests. “I should’ve expected this day to come.”
Magdalene planted both feet on the floor while leaning back in her seat. She didn’t care to cross her legs when there was business at hand. “Is this in regards to your son’s cavalier behavior?”
“Cavalier? Neal might well have saved your daughter from more unpleasant consequences. I think I’m more in the right to be worried.”
“How do you reason that?”
“Your daughter was the first aggressor. Neal acted only after she put herself in harm’s way. That temper of hers—”
“You know how it is for her! I couldn’t have been clearer about it.”
Gold allowed Magdalene a moment to cool. While her pale blonde hair, fair skin and gray-blue eyes suggested the temperament of an ice queen, she was anything but. The cracks in her restraint showed through the tendons of her neck, in the harsh line her red mouth drew across her face like a bloody wound. She had years of practiced self-control behind her, but Gold knew better than to push her limits. He was sensible about these things. He had to be.
“I must make my son’s safety my priority,” he said once the tension in her face laxed. “You must understand that.”
“You bound yourself to a contract,” she replied.
“Not at the expense of my son’s welfare.”
“And what of Lily’s welfare?” Anger dissolved into no less troubling sorrow. Her sharp eyes bowed to the floor, not out of deference but from something that lingered in her thoughts much closer to home. Gold linked his fingers together and waited, patient as always.
Magdalene led with a sigh. “Lily has been asking about her father. More than usual.”
Gold’s head slowly bent down.
“There’s only so much I can say. I’m running out of excuses, and now she’s . . . she’s channeling her frustration into other outlets.”
“Teenage rebellion,” Gold reminded her.
“It goes beyond that. If it comes to it, I will track down her father. But you can imagine the complications involved. It could take a while, if it’s even possible. As for Lily, I need your guarantee that whatever happens, you will do as you promised.”
Gold dragged in air through his slender nose. It was hard not to bristle at what could’ve been a veiled threat. “Is this your way of demanding my special services? I could prescribe some remedies—”
“No. My daughter doesn’t need to be medicated.”
“There’s no shame in a little help to keep her nature under control.”
“Rupert.”
Gold stiffened. An extra vibrato registered an octave below Magdalene’s natural voice. In a moment he recovered, tilted his head, and assumed a disapproving tone. “I meant no offense, Magda. No need to make it personal.”
She huffed with a duchess’ primness. “Sometimes I think you and your kind like to forget who has the real power, regardless of the adjustments we’ve all had to make.”
“True. We all must adapt. I recognize that it’s harder for some. As I said, my services are available if you wish to make use of them. I’m not sure how else I’m supposed to aid your daughter.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to step beyond the usual bounds.” She was annoyed by this parrying, so she moved on to what she presented as a compromise. “Your son has been, dare I say it, a positive influence on her. I don’t want her thinking she should depend on a man for protection, but he’s provided her companionship over the years. I understand why today’s events would prompt you to put an end to their friendship. If nothing else, allow Lily to have it.”
Gold pulled a half-frown. He was discouraged from his previous plan simply by the imagined scene of him telling Neal to stay away from Lily. “I doubt I could stop it if I wanted to. But I hold Lily accountable for today, regardless what he says. If she wants to get into fights, she’ll do so alone.”
His declaration went unanswered for a short while. Magdalene turned over her thoughts while her eyes drifted over the backroom. Gold took this moment to check on the steaming kettle. The water was hot enough to pour into a teapot and leave a couple of teabags to steep. When he returned to his chair, her attention wandered back to him.
“At one time, I would’ve encouraged Lily to fight her own battles. I still support it in the long-term. But, right now, she’s just a child. I’d rather do the fighting for her. So please appreciate what I’m asking. It’s not easy to do.”
His acknowledgement came as a nod. Magdalene wore her pride well. As a young woman from a humble upbringing, her start in the heating business was far from glamorous. It suited her, though, the hard work. When the money rolled in, her business expanded with employees who did the bulk of the labor, but she still had the most experience and could be depended on for a sound assessment of repairs and installations she was brought in to oversee. She wore the gray business suit like a second skin. She also continued inspecting the wares of her trade, hands-on, traces of ash and oil inescapable. That was the pride of self-dependence. She wanted that trait to pass on to Lily. So yes, he could understand how this must have felt to a formidable creature, rolling over on its back and presenting its vulnerable side at the mercy of another.
Gold rubbed his thumb and forefinger on the head of the right armrest. “I don’t suppose you’re asking me to play a . . . a sort of surrogate father to Lily.”
Her scoff came with an arched eyebrow. “Let’s not give her the wrong idea. You needn’t be any friendlier—I know the toll it would take on you. Just watch over her. Give her guidance if she seeks it. If there’s a standing credit as a result, I’ll be the one to pay it.”
“I charge consultant fees only by appointment.” His cheeky smile only widened under the force of her askance glower. He got up to fetch the tea before Magdalene answered.
After clearing a place on the work table, he set down the tea tray loaded with quaint blue-and-white china. Magdalene wisely waited in her chair until everything was assembled. Gold filled their cups with pleasantly bitter English Breakfast, and they sipped while discussing the logistics of Nottingham’s account of the fight and how it matched with Neal’s and Lily’s versions. Their children’s stories corroborated each other, which might have been a testament to their aptitude for conspiracy, but Gold and Magdalene felt it bolstered a defense against suspension. The trickiest points of contention lay in two facts: Lily threw the first punch, and Neal pushed August after he broke up the first fight, thereby initiating a second fight. Their parents had no misgivings or doubts about arguing provocation and self-defense, respectively. As the hands on the clock mounted next to the archway marked the passing of the hour, they built a case were Nottingham to hand out suspension notices.
A tingle of warning at the back of his neck begged Gold to pardon himself from the conversation and peer outside the back door. Neal and Lily were nowhere in sight.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Magdalene said while pulling out her phone. A couple calls to Lily’s cell garnered no response.
Gold tried the same method with Neal’s phone. Same outcome. In hopes that the children had only just wandered up and down Main Street to assuage their boredom, Gold and Magdalene exited by the store front, just in time to see the new librarian walking their Neal and Lily back to them. The sight and the exchange that followed blindsided Gold. Magdalene was not much less startled, though she conveyed it through silent intimidation. For him, he couldn’t even muster a reason to be annoyed at Belle French. He was the one who had tried soliciting a payment from her father not a week ago. It was odd, though, (and therefore dubious) that Belle saw it as her business to escort them to their folks after an hour of presumably watching them. Perhaps this was her idea of becoming part of the community, regardless the fact that “librarian” didn’t equate to babysitter or youth counselor.
“She was just being nice, Dad,” Neal fired off, though only after Magdalene and Lily left. “It’s not like she’s trying to get another favor out of you. Why do you always assume that about people?”
“It may seem unreasonable to you, but I’ve learned that trust must be earned.”
“And what’s she done to make you distrust her?”
“Nothing. I barely know her.”
“Then why did you offer her a job?”
Gold was putting the tea set away, the pot’s contents transferred into a thermos and stored in a minifridge under the counter, when Neal’s words stopped him short. “How do you know that?”
“I didn’t,” Neal said, hands in his pockets. “But I know how you are about magic. I’d hoped you hadn’t visited her to make her return the favor. Guess I was wrong.”
“Neal, I didn’t demand anything.” The pang of disappointment in himself—in how well his son knew him—tightened his throat for a few seconds. “Belle said she was open to the idea of working in the shop.”
Neal’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh. Well, if it’s her idea, then you should hire her. Then you’ll find out who she really is.”
“And you won’t have to help out as much.” Some of Gold’s smile returned.
Neal didn’t try to argue.
For the rest of the afternoon, Gold resumed managing the store, now open and receiving the usual trickle of clientele. Leroy, a hardy janitor, crept in for bi-monthly jar of iron-supplement tablets and a bottle of joint pain relief cream, accompanied by the side-eye that reminded Gold to keep his health issues secret. Other customers gravitated to the displays of thread, yarn, knitting and crochet needles, and the scarves and socks one could create with deceptively simple tools. Anton Bean was among them, the rotund giant of a man who oversaw the town’s community garden. Abigail and Frederick Knight stopped by to pick out new scented candles, completely organic and designed for aromatherapy. Marco hadn’t been by yet to purchase another bottle of wood finish, also organic and, by his own admission, more effective and less odorous than the commercial brands. His best friend, Dr. Hopper, did come in to ask about Gold’s pet products. Pongo was suffering from a gum infection. Gold had a limited selection of remedies for animals, but he easily pulled a bag of dog biscuits off the shelf and instructed the therapist on how and when to administer the homemade treats. If the infection didn’t clear up in a week, Hopper should come back and put in an order for a special formula.
In the meantime, Neal completed his homework in the backroom. Gold checked in every so often to ensure homework was indeed getting finished. He even looked over whatever worksheets Neal’s teachers had assigned. While not particularly versed in information technology, Gold assumed that Neal snuck in breaks to check social media or play a game on his phone. He allowed it so long as homework was in progress, too.
Both of them were done with work by seven o’clock. Gold closed the store for a second time and drove home with Neal. Halfway to their salmon-pink Victorian house, Neal breached a topic Gold had expected him to avoid like a contagion.
“Um, Dad? I’ve been thinking . . . maybe I should apologize to August and his dad next time I see them.”
Gold frowned. “What? Why?”
“It seems like the right thing to do. Should I apologize to Mr. Nottingham, too?”
“No,” Gold declared. “You need to avoid suspension. Let’s not do anything to compromise that.”
“I get that. But apologizing would be the right thing to do, right?”
“You said yourself you were helping Lily. Now it sounds as though you believe you were wrong.”
“It’s not like that, exactly.” Neal blinked hard and wiggled his nose. No doubt it was still sore. “August was being an a—a jerk. But I could’ve handled it differently. I could’ve yelled at him or something. Or gotten Lily away and reported to a teacher. That’s what Mr. Nottingham said I should’ve done. Maybe he was right.”
The corner of Gold’s mouth twitched down. “Neal, I won’t get into a long-winded explanation, but I’ve known Keith Nottingham for years. I don’t know why anyone thought he should be your principal. I’m not saying you shouldn’t trust most people in charge, but I will tell you that Nottingham has his own, personal reasons for punishing students for fights. He’s not interested in right and wrong.”
Neal watched his father for a silent minute. Their house came into view when he spoke. “Wow. You realize most parents would tell their kids to not think badly of other adults, right?”
“Other parents might have to worry about their children using any excuse to act out. I don’t have to worry about that with you.” Gold glanced at Neal, his look both pointed and playful. “Right?”
“No, Dad. I’m gonna organize a school-wide riot to get Mr. Nottingham to resign.” The boy was remarkably gifted at deadpan. At the end, however, a half-smile broke through his dry delivery.
Gold didn’t hold back his own grin. It faltered as he thought about his son’s previous worries. “You still want to apologize to the Booths?”
Neal nodded. “Mr. Booth looked so upset when he came in. August told him Lily punched him first. His dad looked at her, pretty angry, but he asked why she did it. Lily didn’t want to say, so I told him that August had insulted her. He went from being mad at Lily to being mad at August. And he could see that Lily had bruises, though not as bad as August’s. He told August he’d raised him better than to hurt people. He made him apologize to us. And—I don’t know. I could tell Mr. Booth was disappointed in us, too, but he wasn’t going to scold us. I don’t think August was all that sorry for what he did. He didn’t want to let his dad down, though. As much of a jerk as he can be, he loves his dad. And it got me thinking: I gotta be at least as decent as August. I mean, wouldn’t apologizing by my own choice make me the bigger person?”
Gold sighed. The whole “bigger person” argument was overrated in his estimation. There were plenty of circumstances where protecting yourself and your loved ones was more important than being especially noble.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He steered the car into the driveway.
“Great. Thanks for the moral support, Pop.”
Gold cut the engine and turned to his son. “I won’t pretend I’m the expert when it comes to what the noble thing to do is. But I know this: there are people in this world who will take advantage of your good nature, Neal. Marco Booth isn’t one of them; Mr. Nottingham is. But that’s neither here nor there. The point is that you have to be careful and not let anyone twist your generous gestures against you. If you apology to someone who hurt you or someone you love, simply because you hurt them back in retaliation, they will take that to mean they can hold your guilt over you like a Sword of Damocles.”
“Sword of what?”
“I mean like—like a guillotine, always hanging over your head.”
“Oh.” Neal’s mouth pursed into a frown. “Yeah, that sucks.”
“Indeed. I don’t want you going through life like that. You have to stand up for yourself, even if that means throwing a punch.”
“I’m pretty sure this is not the conversation Mr. Nottingham is expecting us to have. But I get what you’re saying.”
“Don’t worry about what Nottingham thinks.”
“Okay. But I care if it was right or not. I am sorry—but not completely sorry.”
Gold chuckled. “Let’s leave it at that, then.”
“Really? You’re not gonna punish me?”
Maybe he should. There wasn’t some parental committee that could come in and condemn him for not grounding his son for a school fight. But that did sound like the responsible course of action. Gold leaned into his seat and stared ahead in thought. No Internet? No, that was next to impossible with Neal’s laptop and phone. Gold himself depended on Neal having a phone as a means to stay in touch. Sure, parents had managed parenting without this technology since humanity’s first days, but boy was it convenient. Even if Gold wanted to try it, Neal would find ways around it. Friends’ phones, computers at school, just to name a few alternatives. A more effective and manageable punishment would be to enforce added chores rather than take away privileges.
An epiphany came, and with it a smug expression. “Janitorial duties,” Gold said. “For the next week, I’ll pick you up from school. We’ll go directly to the shop. You’ll dust, sweep and mop the entire place. Then you’ll complete your homework. After I close up, we’ll go directly home. No going out with friends, no friends coming over.”
“Oh, come on!” Neal’s pleading look couldn’t undermine his father’s resolution. His grumbles were taken as a sign that Gold had chosen a satisfactory penalty. Even so, mild displeasure niggled at him.
“Hey,” Gold said, “let’s get some ice cream.”
Neal picked up his head off the headrest, despair discarded. “You serious?”
“My sweet tooth is calling. You on board?”
While no more ready to process this turnabout, Neal said, as though defeated, “Yeah, sure.”
Gold gave a kinder smile as he switched the engine back on.
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