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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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{11} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang, Jongho, and slight Mingi)

Words: 5,345

Warnings: Past death and trauma alluded to, This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: After quite some time, I finally present the next chapter of this series!!! Yay!! I really hope you all enjoy it! What I originally planned for this chapter is actually going to occur next chapter, but I think what happens, especially at the end is really important for the story. Can anyone guess what it is? Hehehe as always, feedback is greatly appreciate! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Mini Masterlist

The next few days pass by with Jisung still following his own grieving process. He stops by either your place, or the Neo’s nest for food and to rest, before taking off into the peaks of the mountains again. A few times, he’s allowed Chenle, or Sungchan to join him, but he mainly flies solo for the time being.

You’re just glad he already seems to be beginning to heal. It’s a slow process, but steady, nonetheless.

The training with both San and Wooyoung has come to a slight pause for the moment, seeing as you’re now dealing with a grieving cub. Luckily, the two males are quite understanding, taking the time to perfect what you’ve already taught them. Quite eagerly at that, too.

You’ve even noticed a slight change already in all five of the Hala’s demeanours since you’ve began training those two rambunctious dragons of theirs. There seems to be a sharpness to their eyes that had never been their before, as if they are more in-tuned to their surroundings. A fact of which makes you incredibly content, for they are all learning more than you could have ever hoped for in such a short period of time.

Though, one thing that has been on your mind recently, is the fact that for the past few nights, you’ve sensed a very specific Hala flying closer and closer to your cottage. He seems to stop himself before he reaches the edge of the little clearing your house resides near, but he has started circling the area a few times before turning back each night.

Today is no different, but instead of just sensing one presence, you sense two. The exact two that had been on the edge of your radar that night with Jisung. Only this time, they seem to want to imitate how both San and Wooyoung were that first week with Jongho.

Stepping outside of your home, you rest a basket against your hip. Time to go harvest some herbs. Whether those two decide to follow you or not is up to them, but you’re not going to let them off the hook so easily.

Reaching the small natural garden just beneath the base of the one mountain, you get to work. You manage to pick herbs for about ten minutes before you hear some rustling coming from behind you. Long since have you sensed their presences, and at least they’re more stealthy than both Wooyoung and San were, but you do not fail to miss the harsh smack that sounds followed by a short hiss in response.

“You know, if you two were trying to track me, or even so much as observe my daily routine, you need to learn a few things first about cooperation.” You say casually, not even bothering to spare a glance behind you.

The bushes go deadly silent.

“Oh? What’s this?” You quirk a brow, turning to glance over your shoulder. “You think I don’t know when I’m being stalked? Especially by two dragons who have made it somewhat clear that they cannot stand me?”

A moment’s pause.

“We’re not stalking you.” Yeosang appears from within the bushes, stepping into the little open space you’re in between the trees.

“Then, what else would you call spying from the bushes?” Your lips quirk, turning back around to continue gathering herbs. “Observing?”

“See, I told you this was a bad idea.” Mingi grumbles, shoving himself out of the underbrush in the next second.

“You dragged me out.” Yeosang shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Again, you turn to look at both males with a quirked brow. At the way you see Canary Man begin to sputter, ears turning bright red, you know the shorter of the two speaks the truth.

“Is there a reason you keep circling my territory every night, Canary Man?” You ask, shifting your position slightly to begin gathering a different herb. “Are you planning to burn my house to the ground while I sleep?”

“No!” Comes his immediate response, and you’re surprised by how panicked his answer sounds. He clears his throat. “I wouldn’t do that to someone who has saved my brothers' lives more than once.”

You hum, a slight quirk to your brow. “Wise answer.”

Yeosang shifts slightly on his feet. “We’re just curious about you.”

“Oh?” This piques your interest. “Are the stories your brothers tell about me that awful that you have to come see for yourselves?”

“How do you know they tell us stories?” The flame headed male crosses his arms over his chest.

One knowing glance from you says it all.

“They’ve said they’ve learned a lot,” Yeosang comments. “Not just from you, but from the Neos as well.”

“My boys are smarter than they lead people to believe,” you acknowledge. “If they wanted to, they could have claimed the crown a long time ago.”

You can just feel the way the taller male tenses behind you. “So, you do know more about this supposed jewel, then.”

“My father will never let me forget it,” you sigh, tossing the herbs in your hands rather pointedly into your basket. In the next moment, you’re standing back to your feet. “Is there a proper reason you’re here, or am I supposed to play assumptions until you leave?”

“Like we said,” Yeosang eyes the basket that you pick up and hold against your hip. “We’re just curious about you.”

“If you’re curious, you can come and ask me questions. Do not stalk me from my bush.” Your eyes narrow. “I thought I already made that clear to your youngest.”

“You did,” Canary Man huffs, amusedly. “Not that he’ll shut up about you, regardless.”

“All of them seem to enjoy discussing the topic that is you recently.” Yeosang observes, watching as you begin to walk towards one end of the mountain with that basket still in hand.

“I have also been told that someone enjoys my cooking,” you spare a knowing look towards the taller male, lips quirking teasingly. “You know, you’re both more than welcome to join our cookouts.”

Canary Man’s cheeks flare, halfhearted splutters of denial falling from his lips.

A soft chuckle escapes you, yet you fail to see the way Yeosang’s demeanour falters ever so slightly behind you.

At the way you notice the two of them still standing like statues in their spots, you spare them another glance over your shoulder. “Well, are you going to join me? I’m nowhere near done picking herbs, and I’d rather not continue being stalked from the bushes.”

That seems to get them moving, the two falling into step just behind you. Though, you notice Yeosang keeping quite a respectful amount of distance between himself and your back. Something the other male doesn’t seem to pick up on.

The moment you reach the edge of the small stream, you kneel once more. A small patch of herbs rests along the banks, and you begin picking through them, pulling the best ones and placing them into your basket.

Awkwardly, the two males shift on their feet behind you.

“If you’re as curious as you claim, you may ask me questions.” You say, not even bothering to spare them another glance. “I might not answer everything, and I have the right to refuse a question, but I am not unreasonable.”

Softly, Yeosang kneels beside you. “Would you like some help?”

You cannot hide the shock on your features as you blink at him in response. Then, you smile. “Sure.”

You don’t even have to say another word, for the male immediately gets to work. He’s a little cautious at first, moving slowly as he picks some of the herbs from the bank of the stream. Though, once he sees you nodding, somewhat subconsciously in approval, his confidence grows, and he begins to pick a little faster.

“You seem to know what you’re doing.” The taller male comments, moving to stand over his brother while feigning disinterest.

“Unlike you, Min, I listen to what my brothers have to say,” Yeosang retorts, somewhat knowingly, as he places another handful of herbs into your basket.

“I listen!” Said male protests, crossing his arms over his chest as a slight pout tugs at his features.

Again, you chuckle, and you fail to see the way Yeosang’s gaze darts briefly towards you out of the corner of his eyes.

“So, have Sannie and Woo been giving you private lessons after finishing my own?” You inquire, sitting back onto your ankles as you observe the bank carefully.

“They’ve tried,” the male still on his feet grumbles.

“Not necessarily.” Yeosang shakes his head at the same time.

“Yeo is just observant like that.” Canary Man finishes.

“Ah,” your brows raise in understanding. “Impressive. Are you the informant, then?”

“You could say that,” he smiles, somewhat faintly, his bangs hiding his eyes as he leans forward.

“You’re observant. A good skill to have, especially when gathering information.” You comment, pushing yourself back to your feet and dusting off your hands.

Instantly, Yeosang is back on his feet with you, your basket resting gently in his hands. Just as you go to reach for it, he turns away, already walking along the side of the stream.

You chuckle, “the next spot is this way.”

The way you quirk a brow at him has his cheeks dusting with a very faint pink as he walks back over to you. You pretend not to notice.

“Where did you learn all of this?” The taller of the two asks, nothing but curiosity in his tone despite him attempting to hide it. “How to harvest herbs and make remedies?”

“I believe I have mentioned that I am much older than I appear,” you smile faintly in response. “My father trained me for quite a long time. The rest I learned through trial and error.”

“You’ve made mistakes?” Yeosang’s brow furrows.

“I know, it’s quite difficult to believe,” you chuckle, leading them into a tiny clearing with a few bushes scattered around. “I still do. Not everything is perfect, nor is it meant to be. The important thing is to learn and grow from your past failings. Though, try not to fail when it really counts.”

At the way you suddenly grimace, the two dragons share a look.

“Is this about-“

Mingi’s inquiry gets caught in his throat as Yeosang harshly elbows him in his side.

You let out a sigh. “You do not know me well enough to be asking questions on such a personal topic you've eavesdropped upon.”

“Our apologies.” Yeosang bows slightly, that basket of yours tucked against his front.

Your eyebrows raise, slight amusement dancing within your orbs.

“What? Does him apologizing to you surprise you that much?” The taller male tilts his head slightly in curiosity.

“It does.” You blink, beginning to pick through some bushes to gather their fruit. “I am simply surprised by today’s turn of events.”

“We’re not as terrible as we seem.” Yeosang mumbles, averting his gaze to the side.

“No,” you hum. “I don’t believe you are.”

Your admission clearly catches them both off guard, for they blink at you in shock. Still, Mingi cannot prevent the corner of his lips from twitching upwards slightly. A fact which has him clearing his throat and steeling his resolve in the next moment.

“You both really don’t know how to stalk something without being extremely obvious you’re there, do you?” You tease, lightheartedly.

“We did what we always do.” Yeosang shrugs, moving over to observe the berries you’re currently picking while holding the basket out to you.

“Considering you have the power to harness wind, I’m surprised you don’t know how to cover your scents completely yet.” You reply, tossing the handful of fruit you hold into your basket.

“Cover our scents?” The taller frowns. “We do that already.”

You shoot him a look. “To basic creatures, maybe. But not to me or my Neos.”

“What do you mean?” Yeosang asks, brow slightly furrowed in confusion.

“You hide your nature to humans, hunters, and the like, but to trained creatures, they’d still be able to pick you out of a crowd.” You reply, turning your full attention to Yeosang beside you. “Which is surprising, given everything you can do with wind.”

“What can I do with wind?”

“Hide in plain sight.” Comes your immediate response, and you watch as he blinks in shock at you. “You can hide scents, sounds, cover your tracks, and everything. You just have to know how to harness your powers properly.”

“Yunho did say I could potentially tear the air out of someone’s lungs.” Yeosang nods, recalling the words his brother spoke to him a little while ago.

“You boys are still young, and you have much to learn.” You nod.

“We’re not that young.” Canary Man crosses his arms over his chest.

“Compared to me, you are.” You reply bluntly.

“I doubt you know everything.” He huffs.

“I don’t,” you agree, and you watch shock paint his features. “But I know a far greater deal than you.”

A low growl escapes his lips. “Are you challenging me?”

You snort out a laugh. “Believe me, Canary Man. If I were to challenge you, one of us would already be dead, and it wouldn’t be me.”

Even though Yeosang attempts to hide it, he cannot prevent the grin from taking over his lips.

“Stop smiling, she just threatened me!” He snaps, a hint of a whine to his tone as a frown pulls at his features. “And stop calling me Canary Man! That’s not my name.”

You nod slightly in acknowledgement. “Then what is your name.”

He blinks, clearly caught off guard.

“Mingi.” He swallows. “My name is Mingi.”

“Well, Mingi,” you meet his gaze, “has anyone ever explained to you how similar your personality can be to your power?”

His eyes flash in annoyance. “Plenty."

“No, I’m not just talking about someone saying you have a fiery personality,” you add, noticing how his jaw twitches once more in irritation. “I mean it in the way that fire is both equally consuming and rejuvenating.”

You can tell he’s caught off guard by your choice of words, and even Yeosang looks a little taken aback.

“It’s clear to me that many of you Halas are still attempting to find who you are.” You continue. “You simply cannot let your powers consume you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Yeosang questions, head tilted curiously in inquiry.

“I mean,” you turn to meet his gaze. “Do not let your power become what defines you. Yes, fire types can be hotheaded-“

“Hey!” Mingi doesn’t even get a chance to continue protesting before you’re continuing.

“But they can also be strong, unwavering, and warm like the very flames they can create.” You purposely meet Mingi’s gaze, and you notice how he swallows somewhat thickly. “Our powers can influence our moods, and decisions, but ultimately it is up to us whether we let them consume our every action. Fire is both destructive and healing. You just need to find the balance.”

“How would you know?” Mingi spits, taking a threatening step forward.

Your eyes flash in warning, and he backs off. For now.

“We are a lot more alike that you think. All of us.” You meet his gaze, a hint of amber shining within your own. “I have dealt with flame wielders more often that you think. You are more than just complete destruction. No one knows that better than me.”

Mingi scowls, spine straightening beneath your somewhat sympathetic gaze. He doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, nor why your words seem to resonate so much with his very soul. What he does know, though, is that he’s had enough of this conversation.

“I’m done here,” without another word, he takes off, shifting into the air and flying away.

You let out a long sigh. “Perhaps that was too soon.”

“You certainly know a lot about our species.” Yeosang comments casually, peeking at you from out of the corner of his eyes. “As much as the ancients do.”

You purse your lips, wiping the excess berry juice onto your pants before going to reach for the basket in his grip.

Again, he pulls away.

“I have enough sense to know there’s more to you than you’re letting on,” he comments, following right beside you as you begin to make your way back to your cabin. “I can only imagine what makes you so guarded, given the state of your back-“

“What have you seen?” The brief flash of fear he sees light behind your eyes as you shove him against the closest tree has him dropping the basket in shock.

“Just what happened when San accidentally grazed your upper spine,” Yeosang blinks, rather warily.

You seem to breathe a sigh of relief, detecting no false intonation of his voice from his answer. In the next moment, you’re pushing yourself off of him. “Sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” he replies, leaning down to grab the basket once more after wiping off the front of his shirt. “Whatever happened must have been quite traumatic. You don’t let anyone touch your back.”

You spare him a cautious look. “Again, your observations are quite keen.”

“I am curious, but it’s not my place.” He answers, quite honestly at that, too.

“You’re right. It is not your place.” Your blunt response fills the air with a tense silence.

A silence which stretches on for quite a period of time. That is, until he’s breaking it once more.

“We haven’t told Mingi or Seonghwa about it.” He says, voice a mere whisper on the wind. He clears his throat lightly. “About your back, that is.”

His admission completely catches you off guard. “You haven’t?”

“I wouldn’t feel right if I did.” Comes his immediate reply. “I don’t know you very well, and you don’t know me. We’re not enemies; you’ve helped my clan more than we deserve. It would not be proper for me to-“ he catches himself, “for us to repay your kindness in such a traitorous way.”

Again, his words manage to shock you, and all you can do is blink at him.

“Jongho told us that your trust does not come easy,” he continues, “but you’ve already extended an understanding towards us that I know most of us do not deserve. We misjudged you, and I want to apologize for how standoffish I was at the start.”

Your lips tug upwards faintly in the corners, expression softening. “I think we truly are beginning to understand one another, Yeosang.”

The dragon before you cannot deny the way his heart simply races at hearing you address him so openly by his proper name.

“I think so, too.” He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as you both pause momentarily on the path.

You take the time now to search his gaze, just as he searches your own. Soft smiles rest on both of your features as you nod once. The way a weight seemingly lifts itself off of your shoulders has you relaxing, for it was something you hadn’t realized that you’d been carrying.

As much as you don’t want to admit, you’re starting to care for these Hala dragons. Though, from the looks of things, they’re also starting to care for you, too.

“I do have one more thing to ask you,” he says as the two of you continue back down the path once more.

“Oh?” You quirk a brow in inquiry.

“That salve you gave Hwa,” he begins. “He’s run out, and both San and Wooyoung refuse to make him more.”

You huff out an amused laugh. “They’re right to. We won’t start learning those types of mixtures for another week.”

“Seonghwa’s too proud to ask you himself,” Yeosang grimaces. “Would you- uh, might it be possible if-“

You can tell he’s struggling to get the words out, given how his cheers flare with a deep red.

“Are you asking me to prepare another salve for him?” You hum, knowingly.

“If you don’t mind.” He breathes, grateful you seemed to understand where he had been going with all of this.

“If he wants something, he should get used to asking for it himself.” You say, looking straight head.

Yeosang sighs. “That’s what I keep telling him.”

“Keep in mind, I’m not saying ‘no’.” A light hum escapes you.

The male cannot prevent the way his head whips towards you, hope shining in his eyes.

“I’ll let him know.” Yeosang echoes your hum, a small smile tugging at his features.

For the rest of the walk back to your home, a comfortable silence stretches on around you. There is an air of ease that settles between the two of you, perfectly content to simply enjoy the other’s presence. You’ve noticed that Yeosang isn’t much of a heavy talker, and you rather appreciate the way he can communicate with you only using either a few words, or simple glances. It’s quite a change from your typical exchanges with most of his brothers.

When you finally make it back to your place, you notice another dragon lingering around your back door.

“There you are, I was getting worried.” Jongho meets you halfway, reaching out to you only to halt himself before his hand can so much as graze your arm. He locks eyes with his brother. “What are you doing here?”

You notice how quiet Yeosang goes, demeanour shifting slightly from the comfortable silence you had just been experiencing, to a sort of tense guard. You frown slightly, but say nothing.

“I simply wanted to learn more about the woman that has the five of you so captivated.” Yeosang replies, somewhat bluntly.

Jongho pulls the basket out of his brother’s arms, somewhat firmly. All the while, he shoots the elder a look.

“We had a rather nice conversation, didn’t we, Yeosang?” You hum, turning to the aforementioned male.

“I’d say so,” he breathes, eyes softening ever so slightly as he shifts his gaze to you.

Jongho’s eyes narrow slightly, attempting to get a read on his brother. He doesn’t appreciate how close you and Yeosang appear to be all of a sudden.

“Thanks for your help,” you nod to Yeosang once more.

“Anytime,” he smiles, before turning to give his brother a firm nod. “See you at home.”

Without another word, Yeosang is shifting and flying away into the light of the now setting sun.

“You two seemed close,” Jongho grumbles, walking with you the rest of the way to your backdoor.

“He was simply curious,” you reply, stepping through the threshold only for Jongho to follow right behind. “He wasn’t alone, but Mingi decided to storm off earlier.”

“Mingi was with you?” The disbelief is clear in his voice as he places the basket of herbs onto your counter. “And he didn’t attempt to bite your head off.”

“Oh, believe me,” you chuckle. “I think he wanted to.”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything to us yet.” Jongho frowns.

“Ah, your clan connection,” you nod in understanding. “Perhaps he’s actually mulling over what I said.”

“What did you say?” Jongho quirks a brow curiously.

“Just some observations about his powers and personality,” you shrug, beginning to sort through the herbs in your basket.

“And he didn’t spontaneously combust?” If Jongho’s brows raise any higher, you’d swear they’d disappear into his hairline.

“I think he wanted to,” you chuckle. “But no. He did not.”

“You seriously are incredible,” he sighs, somewhat dreamily, sitting on your one stool and resting his cheek in the palm of his one hand.

“Is that a regular occurrence?” You grin, gathering a separate bowl to put all of the berries you collected into.

“I can’t count the number of times he’s singed one of us in anger,” Jongho chuckles. “I will never forget the impromptu haircuts we usually have to give ourselves thanks to him.”

“Oh, I believe you,” you nod, laughing along with him.

“Still, I’m surprised he even sought you out.” Jongho hums, wordlessly beginning to help you sort the herbs into separate piles on the counter.

“I was told they were curious,” you briefly glance up at him. “Seems someone is overbearing with their stories.”

Jongho’s mouth parts, greatly scandalized by your words.

“I would never!” A blush begins to creep up his neck. Then, a mumble, “San and Wooyoung hardly ever shut up about you. Even Joong and Yunho can’t keep their mouths shut.”

You smile, a knowing gleam in your eyes as you step up beside him to affectionately ruffle his hair. “Aw, is my little man jealous?”

“Little?” He huffs, and in the blink of an eye, he’s stood back to his feet, trapping you between his arms against the counter. Slowly, he leans in, and you can feel his breath ghosting the skin of your neck. “I’ll show you there’s nothing little about me.”

You wish you could deny the way your breath hitches. Yet, at the pleased growl you feel reverberate against your chest from him, you know he’s heard it, too.

Gently, his hand is placed onto the side of you hip, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. What truly makes your head spin, though, is how tender his hold is. Not only that, but despite the sudden darkness that you can see swirling in his eyes, there’s still that undertone of affection dripping through.

A moment later, and you manage to gain control of your thoughts once more.

Slowly, you raise a hand to his chest, gently pushing him off of you. Only, he doesn’t budge.

“Jongho,” you sigh his name, and you immediately hear how his own breath hitches in his throat.

“Please, My Fated,” his voice is low, uneven as he speaks into the skin of your neck. “You must know what hearing my name falling from your lips in that tone does to me.”

This time, when you push him away, you use slightly more force.

“You don’t get to refer to me as that, yet.” Despite attempting to keep your tone sharp, you cannot help the waver in your voice.

You can see how his expression falls before you, shoulders drooping slightly as he steps away. Then, it’s as if he’s fully registering your words, for a spark of hope begins shining within his eyes.

Yet. You said he doesn’t get to refer to you as that yet.

“Only a mutual imprint designates the use of those name.” You say, carefully stepping away from him for the moment.

“Not to me,” he replies, honesty dripping from his tone as he meets your eyes. “Not when it’s always felt this right.”

“Then, I’m asking you to wait.” Your tone is softer than it was a moment ago. “I cannot promise the commitment you want from me right now, Jongho. I’m not promising you anything. The last person I gave my heart to-“ your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself averting your gaze. You take a deep breath to steady your nerves, curling in on yourself for the first time while standing in front of the male before you. “The last person I gave my heart to shredded every last bit of me to pieces.”

A silence so deadly settles over the room, and you spare a glance upwards to see Jongho barely controlling his breathing.

Anger radiates off of him in waves, a hint of electricity spiking within the air. The tips of his fingers begin to spark as his eyes flash, steam escaping his nostrils with every exhale.

“It was Kun, wasn’t it?” He’s furious, whole body visibly trembling as he looses the grip on his anger. “I fucking knew it-“

“Jongho!” Your sharp tone manages to draw his attention to you for the moment. “Kun is not who I am referring to. He is none of your concern. Stop making one of my oldest friends into a villain.”

“Then, why-“

“I have already told you that he simply did what was best for him at the time.” You sigh, leaning back onto your counter once more. “He didn’t want to wait, and neither should you.”

“And I thought I already told you that I would wait however long it takes, even if it meant I only got to spend one day with you.” His voice softens, taking a cautious step towards you. “All I want is the chance to call you mine, and for you to call me yours.”

Slowly, you spare a glance up into his eyes. Just as they shone that night in the clearing, they shine now, the sincerity managing to take your breath away yet again.

“I need you to understand-“ you swallow, emotions suddenly heavy in your tone and threatening to choke you out at any given moment. “I need you to understand that I may never be able to give you what you seek.”

“Just being with you like this is enough for me,” he replies, voice a mere whisper on the wind. The earnest way he meets your gaze has a single tear spilling onto your cheek, and he’s quick to cup the side of your face tenderly in his palm. “I won’t lie to you. I desire you. I have desired you since the very first moment I laid my eyes upon you. Whether those desires of mine are met or not, I do not care. All I care about is the fact that you allow me to share in your presence with you, even if I do not deserve it.”

“Jongho,” you find you cannot form the words you want to say, feeling your heart leap into your throat as his confession.

He wipes away your tear.

“I understand you’ve been hurt in the past,” he breathes, and you can feel the way he still trembles the slightest bit against you. “Know that I will never hurt you. I will never make you feel unwanted, undesired, unloved. I cannot. I will not. It is not in my nature to deceive you like that.”

Both of his hands come up to cup your face, meeting your gaze tenderly. His eyes shine with a sincerity, with a passion you’re starting to understand. You can feel it in his touch. You can see it in his gaze. More than all of that, you can hear it in his words.

“This is my promise to you.” He stares deeply into your eyes, his own flashing as a sacred magic begins to flow between the both of you at his words. “I swear I will never betray you. I will never deceive you, nor will I ever use you. I will protect you until my dying breath, because with everything that I am, I am in love with you. Everything that I do, I do it for you.”

Your lips part, and you cannot help but raise your own hands to grasp lightly at his wrists.

“And if-“ he closes his eyes, as if the words he is about to utter pain him far more than any physical wound ever could, “if you truly ever want nothing to do with me, or you decide that you do not want me, I will respect your wishes, and honour your decision.”

Your hands tighten their grip subconsciously around his wrists, the tips of your fingers tingling as the magic flows through you both.

“Until the end of time, this is my promise to you. One which I have every intention to keep.” His grip becomes the slightest bit firmer over your skin as his eyes flash the deepest gold you’ve ever seen from him.

“I swear upon my life, and the life of all of my forefathers before me, that all I care about,” he swallows thickly, “all I will ever care about,” Jongho meets your gaze one final time, and you swear you can feel his pulse beating right alongside your own.

You hold your breath.

“Is you.”

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kwantified · 4 years

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AAAAH STG i havent posted anything in 2-3 weeks and the first thing i post is just. straight up melancholy. i had my friend beta it and she was like “damn. it’s like, oh no im sad but it b like that man life goes on”

and its just. yeah. i feel like fatigue is sometimes such a sad feeling? maybe just me n my frequent burnouts lol

ANYWAYS read it here if u want ur heart to kind go thump thump down

#updates with yara #im so sorry this is so negative #school is EATING ME #but enjoy some solo chenle angst!

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tyongxnct · 3 years

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𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 - 𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘰

masterlist

pairing: Jeno x reader

special guest: Jaemin, Mark

summary: You were dating Lee Jeno, the one and only Lee Jeno from NCT and after years together, you got pregnant. Your parents kicked you out but Jeno promised to stay with you forever and he asked you to marry him. Your son’s almost one year old now and you and Jeno are fighting most of the time. One day, Jeno explodes and leaves you heartbroken and alone. But no matter what, you are his first and last love.

genre: angst, fluff? idol!au marriage!au

word count: 4.4k

A/N: I tried to proofread but I’m still sorry If there are any errors. I hope you enjoy this! I have a couple of fics planned and I can’t wait to share them!

“Stop being so fucking clingy!”, he shouted.

“Clingy? You think I’m clingy? News flash Jeno, I don’t have anyone except you. I’m sorry If I’m being clingy, but I can’t call someone to hang out because there’s no one!”, you yelled back.

“Oh come on, don’t act like you’re the victim here. Everything’s your fault! Did I ask you to get pregnant?! I’ve almost lost everything! Everything! I almost lost my job, my fans. My fucking perfect life. I lost my fucking opportunity to make a solo album! You fucking destroyed my career!”, Jeno looked at you furiously, he closed his eyes as he tried to calm down, but it didn’t help. Jeno felt this way for a long time now and finally, he exploded.

Jeno never talked to you like that. You’ve been together for almost three years now and he was always sweet and he never, not even once, yelled at you. His outburst right now really scared and hurt you. You started to doubt your decision to keep your baby and stay with Jeno. Did you really destroy his life like that?

“I’m.. sorry.”, you really were. You were sorry that you took everything from him, his life, his fans, just his whole career. “Yeah, sorry doesn’t fix this.”, he snapped and turned around, he was about to leave but your son, who was barely one year old, started crying and yelling as he heard his father shouting at you. “Here we go again! Why the fuck is he crying again?! My head’s going to explode that baby just never stops crying!”, you had enough. He can yell at you as much as he wants, but he can’t talk to your baby like that.

“’That baby’ is your son and If you can’t bear his crying then leave! He wouldn’t be crying If you weren’t an asshole who just yells and yells, so just leave!”, you picked up your son from his crib and patted his back to calm him down.

“You know what? Fuck you!”, Jeno shouted at you one last time before he left you alone with your baby in the living room of the apartment you shared. Jeno went back to the dorm, back to his members. He couldn’t stay with you any minute longer.

When you found out that you were pregnant, you were scared and you knew that everything would change, you could lose Jeno, or you could lose the little life in your belly.

Jeno promised to stay with you forever- through thick and thin. He’d be by your side no matter what, he didn’t care about the company or about his family. It was just about you, him, and your baby.

Jeno stayed with you and he even asked you to marry him, and you did. Just you, your baby, and his members, because you had no one else, but it was enough for you. You didn’t need anybody else.

Your parents kicked you out, they looked at you like you were a disease when you told them that you were pregnant with Jeno’s child. You were just 22 and having a child before marriage was a big no go for your family, you were a disgrace for them. They never wanted to see you again, and you had no siblings who could help you go through this fight with your parents. You were all alone now, and that was alright because you had Jeno, the love of your life, the father of your child.

When Jeno told the company that you were pregnant, they told him to stop promoting with NCT and focus on you and your baby. At first, that was alright for him, he was happy that they didn’t kick him out or anything like that. He would spent his time with you and in the first months of your pregnancy, they allowed him to work on his solo album, and it was perfect, until they told him to stop working completely until the baby was born. Fans lost interest in Jeno and they hated on you, they were really cruel and Jeno tried his best to cheer you up but you could see the sadness in his eyes, not only because you were getting hate, but because he couldn’t do what he loved the most. He had to stop being an Idol for quite a long time. After your baby was born, you asked him to stay a little longer with you before he could focus on being an Idol again. You were scared, it was your first-time taking care of someone who wasn’t you, a tiny little baby who looked so fragile in your hands and it scared you. You were scared of being a mother, scared of making mistakes and scared of losing Jeno.

He always assured you that it was alright, that he would give up everything just to be with you, you believed him, until he started to act weird. He’d ignore you and he was just grumpy, but you started to fight more frequently and now he let out all of his anger and left you alone.

You were an overthinker and right now you were devastated, your heart hurt, and you hated and blamed yourself. Did you really destroy Jeno’s life like that? You thought about it, all night long, because Jeno was still gone.

As soon as Jeno left your apartment, he felt a knife stabbing his heart. Jeno drove as fast as he could to the dorms, he needed to talk someone. Someone who wasn’t you or a little baby.

When Jeno arrived, he knocked on the door and it was Mark who opened the door. “Hyung what are you doing here?”, Jeno asked him. “I just wanted to visit the others. What are you doing here? Where’s (Y/N)? And little Minho? I missed- Jeno are you alright?”, before Mark could finish his sentence, Jeno broke out in tears. “H-Hyung…”, he covered his face with his hands and cried.

Mark pulled him gently inside and looked at him with concern in his eyes. “Hey what’s wrong? D-did something happen to them?”

“No, it’s just- I fucked up.”, he was ashamed of himself. He couldn’t even face Mark. “I really f-fucked up.”

“Hey, calm down. Drink some water.”, Mark guided Jeno to the kitchen and gave him a bottle of water. The bottle was empty in 3 seconds and Jeno tried to breath calmly.

“Now tell me what happened.”, Mark sat down next to Jeno, Jisung and Chenle were out and Renjun was at wayv’s dorm. It was only Jaemin and Mark there. “Yo Jeno Lee what are you doing here?”, Jaemin entered the kitchen and greeted his friend. “Why is everyone asking me that? Am I not allowed to visit?”, he asked annoyed.

“You can but you have to bring Minho with you. Oh yeah, and (Y/n) of course.”, he sat down next to Mark and Jeno and looked at Jeno’s red eyes. “Wait, did you cry?”

“I- “, Jeno didn’t know how to explain the whole situation. “You?”, Jaemin said. “I said some things to (Y/N).”, he whispered. “Things like?”, Mark slowly asked. “I told her that she’s being… clingy and that she, uhm, that she destroyed my life- something like that.”, he mumbled as he looked down to his hands in embarrassment.

“You did what?”, Jaemin asked in disbelief. “I told her that she’s clingy and that she destroyed my career and that I almost lost everything because of her. And then Minho started crying and I yelled and then she told me to leave. I said fuck you and left.”, the tears were falling down his cheeks again. Realizing how harsh and cruel he was broke his heart. The words that left his mouth, they were horrible, and you didn’t deserve them.

“Wow, that’s- wow.”, Mark never thought that Jeno was able to get angry at you, let alone say such things. “Did you mean it?”, Jaemin murmured. “No! No I don’t know why I said that- I just said it and I was so angry, and I just wanted to hurt her.”, Jeno loved you so much, even If he didn’t mean it, he hurt you and he didn’t know what to do now. “She told me that she has no one and I know that it’s true, but I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore.”

“Look, you are here- talking to us whereas she’s at home with a little baby, all alone. We can’t really tell you what to do because we don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but I can tell you that you should be with her and not us. We know how much you love each other, you shouldn’t run away after a fight like that. You hurt her and I don’t think it’s going to be easy to make her forgive you, I’m telling you this as your leader, but as your hyung I’m telling you that we are always here for you.”, Mark explained Jeno what he thought about the whole situation and Jeno knew that he was right. “Y-You’re right. She’s always alone and I have you guys and my parents, of course she wants to be with me all the time- fuck I’m so stupid.”, Jeno admitted.

“Yeah you are.”, Jaemin agreed.

It was past midnight and Minho was fast asleep, the baby monitor showed you every move he made, and you tried to sleep, but you couldn’t fall asleep- the events of the night still haunting you. It’s been hours since Jeno left and you didn’t stop crying. You were doubting yourself and your relationship and you had no one to talk to. A little baby couldn’t help you, you were all alone. The voice in your head told you to disappear, to leave Jeno so he can be happy and life his Idol life to the fullest. It hurt, to think that he didn’t want you or your child.

You heard the front door open and close as you turned your back to face the wall. You tried to keep your tears to yourself, tried to stop whimpering, but your head hurt from all the crying.

Jeno slowly opened the door to Minho’s room, quietly checking on his sleeping son. He closed the door again and entered your bedroom. The room was dark, he switched on the lamp on his nightstand. Jeno knew you were awake, you couldn’t fall asleep without him next to you, which annoyed him before but after your fight, he hoped that you’d be awake and waited for him.

Jeno reached for your exposed shoulder, the rest of your body was under the blanket, but you slightly flinched away. “Don’t touch me.”

It hurt Jeno, but he had no right to be hurt. After all the things he told you, after leaving you alone and after being an asshole, he didn’t deserve to touch you.

“C-Can we talk?”, he stuttered.

“Aren’t you done telling me how annoying I am?”, you were so angry after he tried to touch you as if nothing happened. “Don’t say that. You are not annoying.”

You didn’t say anything. He let out the breath he was holding and talked again. “I love you. You are the best thing that happened to me. You and Minho, you are my family and everything I need in life. I don’t care about the other things. I don’t need a solo album or fans- You were always my biggest fan and that is enough for me.”, how could you believe him now? After all the other things he had told you?

“I don’t believe any of your words right now. You don’t have to explain yourself. I got it.”, you were still facing the wall.

“Babe, please. What I said earlier, I was just angry at myself and I let it out on you, and I know you didn’t deserve it, you don’t deserve being treated like that, and I’m sorry. You have to believe me…”, he couldn’t stop his tears from falling, so he just let them drop on your blanket.

“I want to sleep. Turn off the light.”, you ignored his words and closed your eyes. Even with Jeno on your side, you knew you wouldn’t sleep tonight.

“I love you.”, Jeno whispered. He changed his clothes, turned off the light and got under the blanket, you were right next to him, but it felt like you were far, far away. It’s hard to reach you after what he had done to you, but Jeno would do anything to make you believe him again.

It took you so long to actually fall asleep, that you slept almost until 1 pm. You woke up slowly but as soon as you realized that it was that late, you jumped up. You had to feed Minho, you had to change his diapers, you had to- when you entered Minho’s room you saw Jeno changing his diapers. You watched him as he talked to your son.

“I love you so much, you know that right? You may be a little tiny, cute baby, but you can see that I love you more than anything, and that I love your mother. She’s perfect. You have her genes. Your way too perfect to be like me. Well, except your eyes. You have my eyes. But it suits you better than me. I look stupid, you look cute.”, Jeno talked and he didn’t notice you watching him. “We have to be really quiet. Mommy is still sleep- “, before Jeno could finish his sentence, Minho saw you and laughed happily. He tried to reach for you and Jeno turned around to see you. “Oh you are awake already.”

You didn’t answer him, you just took Minho and left the room. Jeno trailing after you like a lost puppy. “Are you hungry? I can make you waffles If you want to? Or anything else?”

“Did Minho eat?”, you asked blankly.

“Yes. I can make pancakes If you- “

“Jeno why are you home?”, you kissed Minho’s chubby cheeks after you asked him that. “W-What do you mean?”, he was scared of the answer. When you told him to leave yesterday, you didn’t mean forever, right?

“Don’t you have any practice or, I don’t know, concert or radio show or just anything to do?”, you spoke coldly.

“N-No not today, I have no schedule for today, I thought maybe, I don’t know, we could go to the park or- “, you looked up at lifted your hand to stop him from talking. “Let me stop you right there, I don’t know If you lost you memory or anything, but I don’t want you around. I want to be alone.”

It was the first time you told him to leave you, well, the second time, but this time it was different. You were still hurt and angry, the wound is still fresh, nothing healed over night and the way he acted to you, it boiled your anger even more. “I don’t want any pancakes or quality time with you. I don’t want to act like a happy family when you are clearly forcing yourself. I get it, go and do music or dance, just don’t act like yesterday didn’t happen.”, your voice was still calm, you didn’t want to scare Minho. But the calm way you talked, scared Jeno. There was no emotion on your face, just pain in your eyes. You put Minho to the crib in the living room.

“Please, what can I do for you to forgive me? Do you want me to go down on my knees?”, he kneeled down and looked you in the eyes. “I’m begging you, please forgive me.”

“Jeno stop it.”

“Do you want me to stop being an Idol? I’ll do it. I’ll leave NCT If you want me to.”

“Jeno! You are doing it again. Our relationship has nothing to do with your job. I don’t want you to choose between your family and your work. I want you to talk to me, to tell me If something is bugging you. I want you to be happy because your happiness is my happiness, you are everything I have. But If you don’t want me, tell me, and don’t let me suffer here. If you stopped loving me, tell me! Tell me to leave and never come back If you aren’t happy anymore.”, you started crying again, you don’t want to fight for Jeno’s love anymore. You are not strong enough to go through pain every day because he stopped loving you.

“No don’t think that, please.”, Jeno got up and held your head between his hands. “You are my world. I don’t need anything. I just need you and Minho. I could never stop loving you. I don’t want you to think that, please, don’t ever think again that I stopped loving you.”, with his thumb, he brushed the tears away, which were falling down your cheeks. You were crying and he was, too.

After that, you could see Jeno trying, but you couldn’t forget his words that easily. It’s been two weeks since your big fight and your heart still hurt. Jeno tried everything to make you forgive him, but every time you looked at him, you could hear his voice in your head, telling you that you were annoying and that you destroyed everything he worked hard for.

“Baby, please. It’s been two weeks. Are you never going to forgive me? Please tell me, what do you want me to do? I’d do anything for you.”, Jeno turned in bed to you, but he only see your back. You always slept with your back to him, you avoided his presence as much as you could.

“Let’s not talk about that, I’m tired.”

“You are perfect. I don’t deserve you, but it hurts so much that you’re avoiding me. Please just look at me.”, he begged you, his voice almost breaking.

You turned around and looked at him. You missed him so much, but you felt like a big burden. Maybe you should stop acting like that and forgive him. He’s preparing for a new comeback, he needs you.

“All I can think about is you. Whatever I’m doing, It’s always you. I can’t focus on practice because I just want to leave and come home to you.”, he slowly cupped your cheek with one hand. You let him because you missed him so much.

Jeno slowly caressed your skin with his thumb and looked you deep in the eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”, you’ve been together for so many years and he didn’t even ask you the first time he had kissed you, years ago, but now he did. He was scared you’d push him away, but you didn’t.

You slowly nodded and he leaned in and placed his lips on yours. God, how much you missed Jeno and his lips. The kiss was slow, and you could feel how much he longed for you. How much he missed you.

You could taste his salty tears on your lips as he deepened the kiss. Jeno gently pulled away as he looked at you. “I love- “, before he could finish, Minho started crying and interrupted you two. “You can go to sleep, I’ll go check on him.”, Jeno pecked your lips.

The next day, you woke up without Jeno by your side. It’s a Sunday, Jeno was always home on Sunday’s. You got up and checked out the whole apartment for your baby and husband, but none of them were there.

Not even a single note was left. You called him, but he didn’t answer the call. You got a little worried, but not even a minute later, you got a text from him.

From: my love

I’m in the park with Minho, I thought you should rest a little. I love you.

That’s what Jeno told you, but actually he was somewhere else.

Jeno visited your parents, he was determined, to safe your relationship with your parents. He was angry, angry that they treated you like that. He didn’t care If they hated him, but hating you, his own wife, and their only child. Jeno couldn’t let that pass.

Now he was standing in front of their house, with Minho in his arms.

“You’re going to meet your grandparents now.”, he kissed Minho’s forehead, his tiny son was looking at him and not getting anything his dad was saying.

He rang the ball, and it was your mother who opened the door. “How can I help y- “, her voice broke as soon as she recognized Jeno standing there with Minho in his arms.

Her eyes got teary and her mind created the worst scenarios in her head. “J-Jeno? Did- Did something happen to her?”, she was so scared to hear his next words.

“So you do care about your daughter?”, he asked.

“Of course I care about my daughter. Please tell me that nothing happened to her.”, she whispered the last words.

“(Y/n) is fine. Well, as fine as you can be without your parents. I am here because I need to stop this, whatever this is. My wife didn’t deserve the way you treated her.”, Jeno said.

“Honey who is- What is he doing here?!”, your fathers voice raised as he saw Jeno standing there. But as he saw Minho in his hands, his eyes widened.

“This is your grandson. Minho. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me and (Y/n). We love him so much and it was the best decision to keep him. It wasn’t even a decision, there was never another option. Your daughter is still heartbroken because her parents kicked her out. Why? Because of a miracle named Minho. I want you to stop treating your daughter, my whole family, like something bad. She’s your only daughter and this is your only grandson. You can hate me as much as you want, but don’t hate your daughter and your grandson.”

Your mother wasn’t the only one crying. Your father started also crying, Jeno’s words hitting the spot in his heart that was empty, because his daughter wasn’t there anymore and that was his fault. You never did anything wrong, your parents’ decision to kick you out, slowly teared both of them apart. They missed you so much, they couldn’t imagine the pain you lived through. Your pregnancy without them by your side. You had no one to help you with raising your baby except for Jeno. They should’ve been there for you. They should’ve been supportive and excited. But they weren’t. They acted terrible, they regretted everything, letting you go and not having enough courage to face you after all this time. If it wasn’t for Jeno, none of you, not you or your parents, would’ve tried to end the war between you.

It’s been a couple hours since you woke up, time was going by really slowly. You had showered and cleaned the whole apartment. You cooked Jeno’s favorite meal because you wanted to make him happy after the last weeks.

You heard the door unlocking and you were so excited to see your husband and your baby, they were only gone for a couple hours but you missed them so much.

“I missed you two so much, don’t go out without me next time. I don’t need to rest I just need you two.”, you hugged them both tightly and your son’s giggle lit up your heart. “We missed you too. I have something for you.”, Jeno kissed your cheek as he stepped to the side. Your parents were standing right in front of you. You thought you’d never see them ever again.

“M-Mom? Dad?”, you whispered. Your parents couldn’t hold in their tears. “W-What are you doing here?”, you looked at Jeno who smiled at you.

“We are here to apologize and ask you for forgiveness.”, your father explained, your mother was unable to speak as she looked at her daughter.

“We are sorry for treating you so bad. We never deserved a daughter like you, the decision we made, it was impulsive and stupid. You are our only daughter, and we made the biggest mistake. We will understand If you don’t want us in your and your family’s life, but we want to apologize. Not only to you, but also to you Jeno. We were too blind to see how much you loved our daughter and you were there for her. We can be lucky that our daughter found someone like you.”, you could feel the tears falling down and the weight on your shoulders fade away.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. Everything felt like a dream, your biggest wish just came true. You pulled your parents into a hug and you cried with them, you finally reconnected with your parents and everything thanks to Jeno.

Your parents stayed over for a while, you told them everything about Minho and about Jeno’s career. You talked and talked and Jeno never saw you happier (except for the day Minho was born) and he wanted to see you like this forever. He made sure you’d never cry again and just always be happy.

After your parents left, you put Minho in his crib and when you entered your bedroom, Jeno was waiting for you already, he was walking in circles, he wanted to tell you how much he loved you. When you entered he stopped walking around like a maniac and faced you. He got closer and gently cupped your cheeks.

“I just want you to know that I wanted to talk to your parents for a long time now. You don’t deserve your parents or me, but we need you. You are way too perfect, you are everyone’s dream girl and I’m that lucky bastard who got you. I will love you forever and I would quit anything just to be with you and our son. You two are all I need in life and I promise you to love you forever.”

“Stop talking like I’m a rare crystal or something. I was also wrong, I do mistakes and I’m far from perfect. You have no idea how lucky I am to have a husband like you. Look what you did for me today and not only today, but you are always too good to me. I love you so much.”

With that, Jeno pressed his lips on yours and you melted into the kiss.

646 notes · View notes

yuta-nakamots · 3 years

Text

perfect - z.cl

Pairing - Chenle x Fem!Reader

Genre - fluff, angst, university!au, friends to lovers!au

Warnings - alcohol consumption, mention of drunkeness, lots of arguments, heavy making out, breakups, contains an aged up chenle (26-ish) towards the end

Summary - He’s definitely not your knight in shining armor, he may not be the one you bring home to mother, but he’ll be the one to give you flowers. Chenle is not the right one for you, but he is for right now.

Word Count - 5.2k

A/N - Bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from One Direction’s song ‘Perfect’ and inspired from the lyrics along with all the vlives where Chenle and the members have started yelling out the lyrics.This was supposed to come out back in January but school held it up and now Ana is gone hhhhh. I know she’s still on Tumblr but under a new url so if anyone wants to send this to her, to let her know that I did finish it, that would be nice.

Taglist - @astroboy-lele @in-my-neofeelings || fill out this form if you’d like to join my general taglist ^^

Written for the Sometimes Letting Go… Collab originally hosted by @sunryu who unfortunately deactivated.

When I first saw you from across the room, I could tell you were curious

The mutual attraction between you and Chenle was undeniable. Ever since the two of you first met as freshmen in an econ class, you knew he was your twin flame and he was yours. That initial meeting was almost comical, the way the professor said to pair up and talk to someone next to them for a bit and it seemed like everyone had turned away from you except for the boy sitting next to you.

It seems you both had the same realization as your heads turned and eyes met. “Well I guess you’re my friend for today,” he began, “hi, my name is Chenle. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Y/n,” you told him, “the pleasure is all mine.”

“So, why are you in this class?” He asked, tapping his pen on his leather-bound planner.

You hesitated for a second as you thought about how much to tell him. “I’m majoring in business and this was just one of the mandatory classes in my plan.”

“Hm, same here,” Chenle shared, seeming the slightest bit amused at your similarity, “would you also happen to be in calculus this semester?”

“Section 3 at 10:30?” You counter.

Chenle broke into a smile, “that’s the one.”

“How about freshman seminar?” You asked.

“1:15 in the world language building?” Chenle offered, copying your answer from before.

“Wow,” your eyebrows were raised in actual disbelief, “did you steal my schedule or something?”

“No, but I do believe in fate,” the boy next to you confessed, “would you like to get lunch sometime before freshmen seminar?”

You nodded, “I’d like that,” you stopped mid-sentence when you remembered that you told your friends you’d eat with them, “I am gonna be eating with my friends though so I could introduce you to them if you’d like.”

“Want to bet that we have the same friends too?”

“No way, that would be too coincidental.”

And coincidental it was. Somehow your friends knew some of Chenle’s friends whether it be from high school activities, childhood friends, or even having just met in their own classes. Your small group of five had immediately doubled in size.

Of course, with such a large group of friends, there was much fun to be had and many memories to be made. During midterms is when you were thankful you were majoring in business and not something like biology or chemistry. You could still go out and have fun on weekends with Chenle and the majority of your friends, meanwhile a few poor souls had to stay back to study their ‘reaction mechanisms’ or whatever the heck those things were called.

You quickly found that you weren’t one for parties though you loved to hang out with your friends and have small little parties of your own in the dorms. Every single time, as you all got progressively drunker and started to clock out for the night, it was always you and Chenle left being the two most sober with no other choice but to take care of your friends over hushed conversations.

“How much vodka did Hannah even drink?” Chenle asked while you both worked on cleaning up the mess of solo cups and napkins surrounding your friend who had, unfortunately, drank over half of the bottle. You picked it up, waving it at Chenle to show him. “She’s gonna have a nasty hangover…or at least wake up super dehydrated.”

As you worked on laying a blanket across her, passed out on the floor, Chenle had managed to stuff all the napkins inside the cups he had collected and was busy aiming at the trash can across the room. Right as he was about to shoot, “miss!” you called out. The little stack of cups hit the rim of the plastic trash bin and fell to the floor. Chenle turned to you, sticking out his tongue and imitating the way you caused him to mess up before going to properly dispose of the rubbish.

Instead of simply placing it in the waste, he once again returned to where he stood before, with one eye shut, aiming for the bin. You let out a scoff, ready to disturb him once more. He shot you a glance, knowing what you were planning from the way you just stood watching him. But regardless, he tried again. “Airball” you sang as he released the short stack of cups, sending them flying to the foot of the bin.

Chenle let out a growl, childishly stomping his way over to you while you tried to quietly escape from his grasps through the mess of food and other miscellaneous items on the floor. From the hushed giggles and name-calling from the two of you as you both stumbled around the room, to the whispered late-night thoughts and affirmations spoken from your positions on the floor with your heads resting on the edge of a bed, you barely even noticed how fast time was passing.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “it’s my first time getting to live away from my parents and whenever I do go back, they’ll probably be expecting me to bring some girl with me.”

You turned to look at him, “why would they expect that?”

“They’re both getting old and want to retire soon,” Chenle started, “so the faster I get married and take over the company, the faster they’ll get to live out the rest of their lives,” he explained.

“Well that’s not very nice of them,” you commented, “what kind of parents would place such high responsibility on their child like that?”

“Mine I guess,” Chenle sighed.

After a moment of silence, you sat up, unsure what to make of the next words to come out of your mouth. “If you want, I could go with you.” Chenle looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Like, I could be your fake girlfriend or something so that they don’t bother you so much about finding one.”

“That’s…an idea,” he started, biting on the corner of his lip as he played out possible scenarios in his head. “I think that would only make it worse though since we’d both have to make up stories and tell the same information.”

“True. But we could at least make it look believable, don’t you think?” You reached over to pet Chenle’s head the same way you’ve seen him do to his friends. “Oh, Chenle, you’re so cute,” you cooed, “I can’t wait to marry you and be with you for the rest of our lives.”

He grabbed your wrist and put it in your lap, not very keen on the show of affection. “Yeah, I think we’d look like a pretty convincing couple.”

“Do we look good together though?” You pondered. “If we were to show up to an event or something, would we make people stop and stare at us?”

“Anyone can do that if they wear something weird or do something out of the ordinary-“

“Okay but that’s not what I’m asking,” you interrupted, “I’m asking, would we look good together as a couple?”

Chenle shrugged apprehensively, “sure.” Your eyes bore into him as if forcing a more legit answer out of him. “Yes, I think we would look good as a couple.”

It was as if you and Chenle were made for each other. Whatever one did, the other was never too far behind. It was absolutely no surprise to your friends when you told them Chenle had asked you out and you became official. While your college careers continued and friends came and went, Chenle was always with you. He was your solid island in the middle of a tumultuous sea, your oasis in a dried desert. You didn’t need anyone else around to have fun, just him, just the two of you.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms and if you like having secret little rendezvous

Being with Chenle was as wild as things could get. It meant impulsive plans and bad decisions. Weekend nights normally consisted of one of you driving with no destination in mind until someone got hungry. Even at that point, the night didn’t end.

Sometimes the two of you would stay out past midnight, not wanting to leave each other’s company just yet. The feeling of the wind whipping past you as Chenle drove or the thrill of gassing it down the freeway was almost dreamlike. One would think that at this point, you’d return home, but for you, your home was wherever Chenle was. If it meant staying in a small hotel room for the night drinking cheap wine out of paper cups then so be it, that was home.

“Baby, you already drank almost half of the bottle, leave some for me,” Chenle teased, his eyes glimmering under the low lighting. The brightness of the small lamp on the desk failed to reach where he was sitting, the cozy armchair too far in the corner for it to be illuminated.

“Come here and get some then,” you suggested, lazily winking at him before downing another shot-sized gulp and enjoying the burn from the liquid running down your throat. The bed you were sitting on wasn’t all that soft but you had already warmed up a little spot of it and gotten too comfortable to move.

Chenle raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t think you want me to do that.”

“Why not?” Your expression mirroring his.

“You wanna find out?

“Maybe I do.”

He let out a scoff and within a second he was on the bed, climbing up and settling over you. His warm breath fanned your neck, the scent of alcohol filling your senses. “Are you sure about that?”

“Fuck around and find out, handsome,” you taunted.

You had barely even finished your sentence before Chenle’s lips were on yours, his usual soft and pillowy lips became hot and heavy against yours under the guide of the fifteen-dollar wine. You were sure that you were definitely getting tipsy but Chenle’s love and passion were even more overwhelming. It was moments like this when you felt that you were drunk off of his love and it was absolutely intoxicating in the best way.

If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby I’m perfect

It was drunk weekends like this that led to a rocky start of the following week. It’s not that you and Chenle were bad students, it’s just that when you become totally infatuated with the person you love, you start to devote yourself to them instead of what actually needs to get done.

As sophomores in college, one would think that you’d have a little more self-control but with Chenle, you just couldn’t help it. He was worse than any drug you could ever take, to the point where your friends would have to intervene and keep you in your rooms until a substantial amount of work was done.

You called them annoying but really you should’ve been thankful to them for caring so much about you back then, and you are thankful, looking back on it. They always told you ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ and you wish you had listened to them. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have lost a relationship that you thought was practically flawless.

Perfect for you

In junior year, that is when your beautiful illusion finally began crumbling down. Your workloads grew heavier and your hours of sleep decreased. Chenle would often leave you on read, having opened your message in the middle of studying then forgotten to reply to it. Even when you childishly got upset at him for that, he’d always give you the same apology or buy you something cute as if money could shut you up.

With little to no distance between the two of you, it was easy for boundaries to be crossed and for problems to go unaddressed. You can feel like you know someone so well, that they’ll always understand what you mean and they can read your words like a book, but it didn’t seem that way anymore with Chenle.

He’d make fun of the way you always made him say ‘I love you’ at least once a day or some of your other pet peeves, including the way you had a Hello Kitty mouse pad that was ‘too childish for a college student to be using.’ It may have been out of love but it sure didn’t seem that way.

I might never be the hands you put your heart in or the arms that hold you any time you want them

Soon, the little pricks in your relationship spread past closed doors and into your schoolwork. Sharing a major and classes with your significant other was not exactly ideal, especially when they had different values and beliefs from you and had to argue for their reasoning.

“That just isn’t sustainable in the long run though,” you commented as you read through Chenle’s senior research report while seated opposite of him inside a library study room.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back into his seat, about to repeat himself for the fourth time. “It’s not about sustainability, it’s about the profit margin that’s being made. What don’t you get?”

“It’s not good for the environment, it’s not good for the people working in the factories,” you point out, “I don’t get how you can subject these things onto people.”

“Y/n, we’re business majors,” he stated plainly, “we study money, the economy, sales, company relationships, we’re not here to be environmentalists. Things don’t have to last very long, so much as they make a profit.”

“But we should think about the impact of our future businesses and their longevity in the world-”

“You should think about passing this class and stop being so prissy and uptight about saving trees or whatever the fuck you’re going on about.”

You were absolutely shocked at the words that had just come out of his mouth. This wasn’t the first time he had seemingly degraded you in this manner, but when it came to school and your own work, you were deeply offended at what he had said, especially since both of you had spent many hours on your respective projects.

“Chenle,” you began softly, “tell me you didn’t mean that.”

He refused to meet your gaze, “If I told you that then I would be a liar.”

“Look, you can’t just spew whatever bullshit you want and just expect that people won’t get hurt,” you criticized, only to be cut off once more.

“Then maybe you should learn to not take everything so seriously,” he snapped back.

“I...I think we need a break.”

“Agreed.”

“No, from each other.” Chenle’s head whipped up to look at you, his eyes went wide when he realized what you were insinuating.

“Baby no, you know it’s not like that,” he started, but it was already too late. You blocked his voice out of your head as you packed your belongings, just wanting to get out of this room, wanting to get away from him.

This wasn’t the first time you had fought with him in this way but it felt like you had finally lost all your patience. You were tired of always being told you were wrong and having your thoughts and ideas invalidated. As you stormed away from the library, you realized that maybe you needed to let go of things that no longer brought you joy.

Sometimes letting go...is a new start

After that incident, you did indeed have a fresh start. You slowly removed Chenle from your life and just in time for graduation. Whenever he tried to approach you on campus, you always turned the other way even if it meant being late to class. Luckily, you didn’t have many shared classes with him anymore and you were all the more grateful for it right now.

You’d come back to your campus apartment with the occasional flower or sticky note left on your doorstep asking you to give him another chance but you simply didn’t have enough time or energy to care anymore. Commencement was approaching and you still had yet to hear back from any of the companies you had applied to for internships.

But that don’t mean that we can’t live here in the moment

One of your friends had mentioned that Chenle had already received news that he was accepted into his family’s business, a large company in China, and you wished you could’ve been there when he had read the email. You could practically hear his yell of delight, his laugh when he’d turn to hug you, even if it was practically guaranteed that he’d get in, you missed it all so much but there was no turning back now.

It wasn’t until after commencement did you receive your own letter of acceptance from one of the largest foreign trade companies in the area after you saw Chenle for the last time. “Zhong Chenle, Bachelor of Arts in business management.” You remembered the immense pride and pain you felt in your chest, watching him walk across the stage to claim his diploma as you sat clothed in the same cap and gown only a few rows away. You wished you could share your emotions with him, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours, he was no longer the man you first fell in love with.

‘Cause I can be the one you love from time to time

Four years have passed since that moment at commencement. In those four years, you’ve climbed your way up in the company, taking a hold of a directing position in project development and management. With all your success though, there was always one failure that kept floating through your mind. The number of sleepless nights and wandering moments you’ve spent thinking about all the ‘what ifs’ and the changes you should’ve made in your relationship have all decreased with time, but sometimes it all comes crashing back. You miss the memories you made with him and you miss being so young and naive.

Sometimes you managed to hear a thing or two about the company he worked for but you never paid much attention to it, always falling back into a spiral of guilt and calling yourself the sole reason why your relationship fell apart. Chenle would even pop into your mind at the weirdest times when you’d be thinking of anything but him.

Like the other day as you were staring out the window of your office, watching people and cars pass by, your memory of Chenle speeding down the empty highway suddenly resurfaced. The adrenaline you felt from the buildings and signs whizzing by, the slight buzz of alcohol you felt in your system, the cool air coming in from Chenle’s window, the warmth of his hand in yours. You couldn’t help but smile at it fondly yet it turned sour when you thought of the last time he ever drove you somewhere. You had argued with him about something dumb, you couldn’t even remember it at this point, and you even slammed the door before storming off to who knows where.

Or some months ago, you were interviewing possible new hires for the company and met someone from Puerto Rico. Once you finished the interview with them, you sat at the wooden desk while remembering the way you teased Chenle because he didn’t know how to pronounce Puerto Rico. You thought it was cute and even told him that, but it ended up in another fight because you may have spent a little too long dwelling on the topic.

But oftentimes when you find yourself thinking about him, you’d wonder how he’s doing. Is he happy where he is right now? What kinds of things is he doing for his job? Has he found a new girlfriend? What if he dated many other people after me? What if he’s married? Would he have children by now? Or most importantly, ‘does he still love me?’

And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, and if you like going places we can’t even pronounce

Regardless, you’d shake off all these thoughts and continue about your day, completing the tasks assigned to you. The majority of your time was spent conducting interviews and deliberating with the directors about who to hire for what position. It was quite fun, really. You got to meet all of the new hires before they came into the company and you felt empowered by the fact that you would be indirectly responsible for the future of the company in this sort of way.

On one particular day, everything felt like it was going just a little too well. Your hair was done just the right way, traffic was light, your coworkers seemed to all be in a good mood, but most importantly, there were no fat folders sitting on your desk, waiting for you to go through. Just a single sheet of paper with the list of the new hires coming in for their briefings along with the notes you were required to go over.

You didn’t bother checking it, seeing as how you had exactly two minutes left before the scheduled meet time, which was exactly the amount of time you needed to head downstairs to the conference room. You really should have checked the list though. It would have prepared you for the shock of seeing a certain someone sitting at the table in a suit that looked all too good on him.

“Zhong Chenle?” You audibly gasped, pausing in your tracks the moment you entered the conference room.

His eyes were already on you as if he knew you’d be the person to walk through that doorway at that exact moment. “That would be me.”

The other new hires looked around at each other sharing all types of glances. Worried, suspicious, surprised, questioning, nothing really all that positive. “Sorry, he’s just an old friend that I was surprised to see,” you quickly explained, trying to pull yourself back together.

Throughout your whole presentation, it was like all the attention in the world was directed at you. Never had you felt this nervous before doing something that was supposed to be so familiar. Every time your eyes glanced over in Chenle’s direction, his gaze managed to catch yours as if he was trying to speak to you without any words.

By the time you adjourned the meeting and sent the new hires off to their respective departments, it felt like you had run a marathon. Your palms were clammy, your legs shaky, your mind racing, and your heart was pounding.

Chenle was the only one left in the conference hall while you pushed in all the chairs and turned off the lights. “Looks like these years have done you well.” He commented, finally able to take in the sight of you now that there was no one else around.

“I could say the same for you.” His shoulder had gotten broader and any childlike features had left his face. He truly looked like he had grown into a man. The dark gray suit he was wearing fit the lines of his body so well, it made you think he could’ve been a model instead of simply becoming an office worker. “So how have you been?”

He did a classic Chenle shrug, “nothing much really. I started off being just a marketing employee, did some work, and got myself to be chief marketing officer. It seems you’ve gotten much further than I have, though. Project development and management?”

“Oh, it’s not anything huge. I just help with planning things out and doing all the paperwork for its execution. I only do interviews and help with hiring when we’re in season, which would be why I’m here right now,” you explained, motioning for him to follow you out of the room. “Your new supervisor is probably wondering where you are. I sent the rest of the newbies a few minutes ago already. I’ll just tell him that you had a few questions about our operations.”

“Wow, cheating the system? That’s not the way I remember you,” Chenle said with mock disapproval. You led him to the elevators, pleasantly surprised to find one still on your floor after you hit the ‘up’ button. Your eyes met with his while you gestured for him to go in. “Ladies first,” he had a cat-like grin on his face as you rolled your eyes and stepped into the elevator.

“So why did you decide to leave your company? Weren’t you going to take it over someday?” You ask over the squeaking of the doors closing.

Chenle leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator, “I still plan to but I felt like they were just kind of babying me or treating me differently because they knew of my background,” he explained. You could only nod to acknowledge the fact that you were listening. “I told my parents that I wanted to get experience outside of the company and they didn’t really understand at first until I showed them my point of view and how it’s a little worrisome to perhaps, learn how to cook when you always have chefs around you giving you instructions down to the tiniest things.”

The elevator came to a stop and the heavy doors opened onto the floor Chenle would be working on. “But why this company? We’re not even closely related to yours?” You led him down the hallway in the direction of his supervisor's office.

“My parents were the ones who recommended it, actually. It would be a little risky to go to a neighboring one in the case of it being viewed as a betrayal or like some kind of inside mission so they said I should just come back here since I’d probably have a high chance of acceptance-“ you put a hand up to stop him from talking, seeing how many of the other employees had started to look at him due to his volume.

“Chenle, must I remind you that this is an office?” You gritted out, embarrassed in front of your colleagues.

He shook his head before turning to the mass of them, bowing politely then continuing in the same direction as before. Once both of you reached the head office at the end of the hallway, Chenle spoke up once more. “By any chance, are you free tonight?”

“That depends,” you began, “what are you hinting at?”

“Just seeing if you’d like to go out to dinner so we can properly catch up, I guess,” he proposed bashfully.

You hummed in thought, “mmm, put in a good word for me with your supervisor and you’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” he agreed.

“Meet me in the lobby at 5:30, don’t be late,” you told him before knocking on the wooden door in front of you and allowing Chenle in.

If you like to do whatever you’ve been dreaming about, then baby you’re perfect

You thought Chenle’s wine phase in college would be just that, a phase, but it really wasn’t. He had ordered an expensive bottle of merlot even with all your insistence that you wouldn’t be drinking and even made him promise that he’d be sober enough to drive himself back to wherever his accommodations were.

He made a face of fake dismissal before picking up your last conversation. “So anyway, as I was saying earlier, my parents suggested that I come back here, especially since I got my degree from the university so I’m bound to get in.”

You were about to open your mouth to say something like “getting in is not a guarantee” especially coming from your experience in doing interviews and having to decide which applicants to turn down, but you decided against it.

“Initially, I was a little against it since I didn’t want to come back to somewhere I’ve already stayed at for some time,” he confessed, “but after I did some research on the company and found out that you’re one of the associates, I was a little more open to the idea.”

There was a break of silence while you started to link your thoughts together. “So you came here because you found out that I work here?”

“Yes, but also no,” Chenle stated, blurting the second part out rather quickly when he saw the shift in your expression. “It is true that I wanted to see you and how you were doing but it’s not just that. I figured that if you worked here and had such a high position, it must be a good place to work.”

“But what I’m hearing is…you came here because of me,” you state bluntly though your heart couldn’t help but let out a cheer of delight.

Chenle redirected his gaze at the neighboring tables. “You could say that, sure.”

“Chenle, what do you want out of this? What do you want out of me specifically?” You contended. His eyes continued to flit around the lowly lit space, not daring to meet yours unlike earlier in the conference hall. “What? Did you come back just expecting me to run into your arms? Did you think we would just pick up where we left off?”

Now he looked down at the white tablecloth, as if in shame. “Would it be wrong of me to ask for a second chance?”

You too joined him in staring at the table, wishing that he had answered ‘no’ to your previous questions. “It wouldn’t exactly be wrong, but it’s not right either. I’d be willing to give you a second chance if we agree to not call it that, but rather a promise.”

He finally looked up at you again, his dark pupils catching the dim golden lights above him. “A promise?”

You nodded. “We’re older now, we’re fully grown adults with jobs to do and taxes to pay. We’re no longer the same carefree college students we used to be.”

“Well yeah, obviously-“

“No, listen,” you interject, cutting him off, “we can’t just recklessly play with each other’s minds and feelings like we used to. No more games and no more ‘next times.’ If we try again, I want this to be a promise that we’ll both do better because we can and we want to.”

“If it’s a promise that you want then,” Chenle held out his hand with his pinky finger extended, “it’s a promise I’m willing to make.”

You linked your pinky with his before bringing your thumbs together and sealing the promise. Matching smiles appeared across both of your faces as you stepped into a new chapter of life with Chenle by your side once more.

Sometimes letting go is…perfect. So let’s start right now

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radiorenjun · 3 years

Text

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mental breakdowns, heartbreak, rejection, major angst, arguments, flashbacks, physical injuries, fighting, underaged drinking, panic attacks, mentions of death, slight mentions of drugs(?), BY FAR THE ANGSTIEST CHAPTER I’VE WRITTEN IN THIS DAMN SERIES.

• Wordcount : 11 k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: XII, XIII

“So are you coming to Hyunjin’s party this Friday?” Hyuck asked, poking your hand with the back of his pencil. You turned to him, humming in response. “You know! His parents are on a business trip for the week and his dramatic ass decided to throw a party,” he explained causing you to let out a small ‘oh’.

“Donghyuck, you know very well I don’t do parties. Plus the bad kids usually spike the coke with alcohol. We’re underaged,” you stated with a roll of your eyes, glancing at the teacher, who was marking papers from last week’s pop quiz, for a split second. “We’re almost 18,” he deadpanned.

“The keyword is ‘almost’, Hyuck. We’re not of legal age yet. Sure a few of us are but that doesn’t mean we should,” you huffed as Hyuck let out a small scoff. “Come on, you’ve never been to a party in months! Let loose a little! Exams are catching up, we need to relax for a bit before we get stress piling up our backs!” Hyuck exclaimed before being silenced by the teacher.

“Lee Donghyuck! No talking in class!” he barked, causing Hyuck to flinch at the loud tone. “Sorry sir!” he said with an enthusiastic tone before turning to you with an unbothered expression, tapping his pen against the book in front of him. “So, you in or not?” he asked, raising a brow at you with a smug expression on his face.

“Why are you so keen on getting me into this party anyways? Hyunjin, himself, doesn’t mind that I’m not coming,” you chuckled, taking your whiteout to remove the word you misspelled. “I just haven’t seen you loosen up in a long time, you know? Enjoying music with your pals, hanging out and drinking some coke. The fun things people our age do,” he explained, causing you to scrunch your nose in confusion.

“I don’t think underaged drinking is ‘fun’, what if the police come or something? The neighbours could’ve called them for being too loud,” you raised your brow, causing Hyuck to take a deep breath as if to say ‘you’re overthinking this too much, you dumbass’. “Come on, you’re an extrovert, aren’t you? Can’t you at least show a bit of interest in this? This could be the last party of our senior year,” Hyuck whined.

“It is tempting, I admit. But the thought of getting my drink spiked or the police coming in to arrest me isn’t that sexy, you know?” you said with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. “It’s still tempting, right? Good enough, I’ll have Renjun and the others pick you up on Friday, then,” he gave you a small thumbs up before finally focusing on his work.

You couldn’t even refuse, you knew once Hyuck set his mind onto something, there was no turning back. Accepting defeat you went back into working on your own assignment before your head shot up in alarm as your mind finally processed his words. “Wait, Renjun and the others are coming too?” you asked incredulously.

Hyuck nodded, letting out a small hum of confirmation, not looking up from his paper. “The others managed to drag both Renjun and Chungha into this so you won’t be alone if you end up sulking in some corner of the party,” he jokes, scratching out a sentence he wrote aggressively on his paper. “That’s seriously concerning,” you furrowed your brows.

“It works either way,” he shrugged casually.

“I can’t believe you actually dragged me to a party,” you groaned, glaring daggers into Renjun’s skull. The said boy rolled his eyes at you, “in my defense, I’m also getting dragged into this party!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the sunshine-like boy smiling gingerly in the driver's seat. “You guys need to relax before the exam season starts. You’ll be thanking me for dragging you here in the future,” Hyuck said as he made a left turn.

“I’m sure that’s not happening anytime soon,” Yeoreum snickered, shaking her head as she continued to text on her phone. “Come on! Almost everyone in school is coming! At least look happy for it. Hyunjin always throws the best parties,” Hyuck whined, finally parking in the vacant spot beside what seems to be one of the football player’s cars.

“True. I rarely go to Hyunjin’s parties. His house is large as fuck, I rather not get lost again to see people making out or drinking in every corner,” Hwall joked, fixing his hair in the rear view mirror. “No kidding, he’s a rich kid! Second rich I mean, right below Chenle,” Yeoreum exaggerated, giggling when she remembered how Chenle offered to buy her a laptop in exchange for her homework answers.

You rolled your eyes at them, opening the door to step out of the car once Hyuck parked properly. Loud music pierced your ears as you turned your head towards the large house. You and your friends walk up the porch, watching how a few students you barely know were sitting on the porch drinking whatever liquid they poured in their red solo cup.

“Ugh, it reeks of alcohol,” you scrunch your face in disgust when you enter the door, standing close to your friends as your eyes scan the crowd of bodies in the room. “Someone must’ve spiked a few of the drinks,” Renjun commented, a frown placed on his lips as he examined a half filled cup filled with what was supposed to be coke but reeks of alcohol. You peeked into the cup, scrunching your nose when you smelled the ever-so-familiar bittersweet scent.

“Whatever. Dude, look! I forgot how Hyunjin had a cheese and chocolate fondue maker!” Hyuck exclaimed, pointing at the table filled with foods and drinks. “Hey! Hyuck! Y/n! Renjun!” a familiar voice called out from the sea of people dancing and chatting. You turned your head to see that none other than Hwang Hyunjin, the party hoster, himself had come up to you.

“It’s so good to see you here, it’s been a long time since I saw you guys in this kind of an environment,” Hyujin chuckled, giving Hyuck and Renjun those typical bro-hugs that they usually do. “Well, I would be fast asleep in my bed right now if it weren’t for a certain someone,” you nodded your head to Hyuck who was sinking a strawberry under the chocolate fountain with a toothpick. Hyuck grinned, “yep, that’s me! You’re welcome, by the way!”

Hyunjin laughed, taking a sip of his own red cup afterwards. “Well then, don’t let me stop you from having your own fun. Go crazy and relax! This is our last year of highschool after all, embrace it!” Hyunjin raised his hands up enthusiastically with a giggle. You chuckled, eyeing the cup in his hands before asking, “whatcha got there?”

Hyunjin’s bright smile faltered as he stared down at his own cup with confusion. He shrugged at you. “Don’t know, really. A few of the seniors came in with some liquor and sodas for the ones who don't like alcohol so I think this is a bit of both? I don’t know, Hendery gave it to me a while ago,” he explained, shaking the cup to watch the liquid inside swoosh around.

“But it’s good, though. Want to try?” Hyunjin asked, stretching his hand to gesture you to take his cup. Renjun stepped in before you could reply, pushing Hyunjin’s hand away as he shook his head. “No thanks, we’re good.” he replied shortly. “Cokes good for us, thanks anyways.” you added with a soft smile, grabbing a new cup from a box below the table.

“Where’s Hyuck?” Renjun asked all of a sudden, making you turn to where the boy in question had been previously helping himself to some fondue who had disappeared. “Dammit, he must’ve run off somewhere,” you mumbled, pouring yourself some coke from one of the large bottles. “Typical Lee Haechan, the party animal himself,” Hyunjin chuckled, trying to spot the honey skinned boy somewhere in the crowd before shaking his head.

“Anyways, I’m gonna get going. Enjoy the party,” Hyunjin gulped down the remaining contents of his beverage, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as he placed the cup back down on the table. “Try not to get into too much trouble,” he smiled, patting both of your shoulders before walking away. You clicked your tongue, sighing heavily as you spotted a few of your friends in between the crowds, smiling at how happy they looked.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom for a minute, you good with being alone?” Renjun asked, patting one of his pockets to check if his phone was still in his pocket. You nodded, shrugging. “Go ahead, I’m going to walk around and explore,” you shook the cup in your hands, watching the liquid swivel around. “Explore? What are you? Five?” He snorted, pulling out his phone.

You rolled your eyes, shoving him forward playfully. “Just go, you idiot. I’ll call you if I need you,” you snickered, watching Renjun stick his tongue out playfully at you before going to find the bathroom. You sighed before standing up straight and started walking around the party. Taking a sip of your drink before scanning the room, hoping to find someone you knew.

“Y/N!”

You turned your head, cup in between your lips to see Jeno waving at you from the ping pong table. Smiling, you head on over to your friend, relieved to see a familiar face “Hey, I didn’t know you’re here,” Jeno greeted, patting you on the shoulder as you came up to him. “I just got here with the others, Hyuck dragged us here,” you explained, taking another sip as you examined the almost filled cups displayed on the table.

“We’re playing beer pong,” Yongbok, one of Jaemin’s teammates, explained, closing one eye to aim his ball on the target. “Beer pong?” you gaped, “aren’t you still 17, Yongbok?” you added with a raise of your brow. “Loosen up a little, y/n. It’s just a game, the loser has to chug this all down. And I’m not going to lose,” Yongbok replied with a small wink before tossing the ping pong ball, cheering when it landed on the cup.

“It’s just a little game, don’t worry, no ones actually going to drink,” Jeno waved it off, attempting to convince you to join in on their game. You raised your brow at him, “really?” you asked with a deadpan expression. Jeno let out a childish smile, grabbing the ping pong ball when Chanhee threw it at him. “Want to try?” he offered, handing you the small orange ball in his hands. “Me?” you raised your brow at him incredulously.

“Yeah, why not?” your friend shrugged casually. “It’s easy, just toss the ball till it lands on one of the cups,” he explained. “I know how beer pong works, you dumbass!” you retorted, eyeing the ball for a short moment before grabbing it from his hand. “I guess one game wouldn’t hurt,” you sighed, handing him your almost finished cup before moving to stand beside Chanhee and Younghoon.

You eyed the cup you wanted your ball to land on, aiming the ball slightly to the left before tossing gently, watching as the ball bounced on the liquid surface of the cup and landed perfectly in the middle row. With a loud cheer you continued to play for the next fifteen minutes till you finished your drink. “Damn!” Younghoon cheered, giving you an impressed expression. “You’re pretty good at this,” he commented, grabbing the ball from the cup with a chuckle.

You shook your head with a small laugh, “no, dude. Jaemin taught me how to throw like that,” you explained. “That explains everything. Soulmates do think alike, huh?” Chanhee laughed, pouring more liquor into his cup. Your heart clenched slightly at those words as Jeno handed you your cup back. “Definitely,” Younghoon agreed with a nod.

“You want to go for another round?” Chanhee asked, filling the cups with more beer to make the game slightly harder. You gulped, finishing your drink before shaking your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m good. I’m going to go get myself more coke, this one tastes kind of funny, though,” you placed your cup on the table before waving your friends off to find your way to the kitchen.

Jeno furrowed his brows, noticing how your words were slightly slurred. “What’s up with her? She looked pretty sad,” Chanhee asked, running a hand through his hair, tossing the ball in his palm to the cup, cursing when he missed inevitably. “What? Haven’t you heard? She and Jaemin aren’t on good terms lately,” Younghoon hissed before giving the boy a smack on the back. “No one for sure knows what happened but people said Jaemin did something real bad to make her that sad,” he added on.

“Excuse me, how was I supposed to know that?” Chanhee retaliated in response. “I don’t go around listening to gossip from the cheerleaders like you do,” he snapped back. Younghoon rolled his eyes at his friend, “here’s the actual tea, though.” he started again, taking a large gulp from his cup. “You know how if you hurt your soulmate, like emotionally, they’d start to feel burns in their mark?” He murmured under his breath.

“Yeah, isn’t it some sort of old tale or something? I mean, come on, your tattoo suddenly burns you because you can’t handle a few harsh words? That’s preposterous,” Chanhee scoffed, tossing another ball towards one of the cups, missing once again. “You don’t know if that’s fake, dude! People are saying how those two kept covering up their marks to hide the burns! And that’s on having a toxic soulmate relationship,” Younghoon exclaimed, nudging his friend playfully.

“Damn, that’s just depressing. I feel bad for them, really,” he replied with a sympathetic tone. Jeno, who was quietly listening to their conversation, was lost in thought. He wanted to shut down the rumors and help his friends, but yet again, he doesn’t know the full story of what went on between the two of you. “Jeno?” his friends call out, snapping the boy out of his train of thoughts. He hummed in response, looking up from the cup he was holding, which happened to be the one you left behind.

“You okay, dude?” Yongbok asked with a raised brow, grabbing a ping pong ball of his own. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m good. Did you notice how funny y/n was acting before she left?” Jeno asked, lifting the cup up to his nose to take a sniff. “No, not really, why?” Younghoon shook his head, furrowing his brows at the boy.

The familiar scent of alcohol hit his senses when he took a small sniff of the cup, making his eyes wide in alarm. “Oh shit,” Jeno cursed, dropping the cup to the floor as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “What’s wrong?” Chanhee asked, his lips forming a concerned frown. “She drank alcohol, I need to call the others before something happens,” Jeno explained briefly, his thumbs fiddling with his phone.

Meanwhile, you found yourself walking into the backyard. Hyunjin’s parents are quite loaded, so you weren’t that surprised to see how spacious and large it was. “Y/n?” a voice said. You turned your head to see Jaemin sitting on a lounge chair beside the door, a red cup in his hand and a lollipop in the other. “Jaemin?” you replied with a raised brow. “Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Jaemin smiled, sitting up straight.

“Hyuck dragged me here a while ago,” you explained shortly, examining the backyard. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t like parties that much?” you asked, walking closer to him when you realised that you didn’t see his car parked on the sidewalk before you left for the party. “A party from time to time isn’t too bad. Hyunjin said it’ll do me good to relax once in a while,” he chuckled, shooting you a sweet, charming smile.

“You wanna sit down?” he offered, patting the empty lounge chair beside the one he was sitting on. You bit your lip, eyeing him for a moment before mumbling a small ‘okay’ under your breath and sitting down beside him. “Why aren’t you inside with the others?” you asked quietly, your tone almost hushed as you succumb to the serene atmosphere. The loud music almost muffled by the closed door.

“I.. I just wanted some fresh air. The smell of alcohol was getting to me,” he responded almost hesitantly. “You?” he turned to look at you, popping the lollipop into his mouth. “Same as you, I was playing beer pong with Jeno and the others not too long ago,” you smiled, watching how Jaemin’s light hearted expression grew into a concerned one. “You played beer pong with them?” he asked with a low voice, almost in a motherly tone.

You raised your brows in alarm, waving your hands around frantically. “No! I swear it’s not what you think! I didn’t drink anything, I just tossed ping pongs into a few cups! I promise you!” you shook your head vigorously as Jaemin eyed you suspiciously. “You sure?” he asked, leaning forward towards you to see if you were actually lying before giving you a small smile when you gulped. “Okay then, I believe you,” he nodded with a small chuckle, his heart fluttering at how adorable you looked.

You pouted when you saw his amused expression, slumping back against the chair with a huff. He let out a small giggle at your little antics, watching you dramatically sling your leg over the other and turn your head away. “You’re still as dramatic as the last time we hung out,” Jaemin commented, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you frown, jerking your head towards him with an offended tone.

He shook his head, reaching over to pinch your cheek gingerly. “You know very well what I meant,” he giggled, retracting his hand and setting it back on his lap. “You’re always acting dramatic for the sake of making people laugh,” he said, winking as he gave you a knowing look. You chuckled, smacking him on the shoulder playfully. “Shut up, remember that time when I gave you a rock for a gift,” you giggled, smiling brightly at the distant memory.

“You literally saw the rock a couple weeks ago, you know I kept it all this time. Of course I remember, you even stuck a fucking Doraemon sticker onto it for ‘decoration’,” he used his two index and middle fingers to emphasize on the ‘decoration’ word, laughing lightly. “Shut up! I thought it was funny! Clearly, I should’ve taped a picture of my face to it so you’d remember my existence bugging you on a day to day basis,” you joked, laughing along as your mind flashed back to the deadpanned expression Jaemin had when you gave him the rock.

“In my defense, you could’ve gotten me something nice like- Oh I don’t know, a jar of your Mom’s peanut butter cookies? Some homework answers? A fucking hug? But no, you decided to go for a damn rock you found on the streets,” he exclaimed incredulously, waving his hands around to exaggerate at his words.

“I’m unique, Jaemin. You loved that gift! Trust me, when I saw that smooth ass rock I instantly thought of your annoying ass constantly throwing paper planes to my window in hopes of talking to me when you could just knock on the door like a normal person!” you laughed, pushing his shoulder playfully as he pouts at you. His doe eyes glaring daggers at you as he cocked his head to the side in an almost offended way.

“This says a lot of what you think of me. If you’re unique then I’m unique as well because who the fuck needs to walk to your front door when you can throw paper planes like a hopeless romantic?” Jaemin huffed, puffing his cheeks out as he crossed his arms against his chest. “You should be grateful to have me as a best friend,” he mumbled under his breath, causing you to giggle even more. A small smile reached his lips as he watched you laugh so innocently in front of him, a light laugh eliciting from his own lips.

Your giggles died down slowly as your bright smile faltered as you gazed up at the night sky, sighing deeply as thoughts rushed through your brain. “I can’t believe this is actually our last year of highschool,” you sighed, tucking your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs as you leaned your chin on your knees.

“Yeah,” Jaemin sighed, a frown now forming on his lips as he followed your actions and gazed up at the cloudy sky. “In a couple of months, we’ll be off to college and having more responsibilities laid out on us,” he added with a heavy heart, biting down on the stick of his lollipop to hold himself back from engulfing you in a tight embrace.

“God, it’s so weird. It felt like I just turned fourteen yesterday, you know?” you turned to look at Jaemin with a sad smile, who nodded quietly in agreement. “Time flies so fast,” he mumbled in response, his heart feeling heavy by every word. He was too caught up in his own problems to realise how his school year was coming to an end.

And honestly, Jaemin felt as if he was taking one step further away from you with each passing second. He knew if he couldn’t get you back in his life by graduation, then he would live on not knowing what to do for the rest of his life. He truly didn’t want that, he didn’t want to go to college without you standing by his side.

“Remember when we were still 15? We dreamt about all the things we wanted to do when we get to college?” he asked, wandering his gaze down from the sky to the soles of his sneakers. “I do.” Jaemin turned to see you looking back at him with a sorrowful expression that mirrored his own. “We wanted to go to apply for the same jobs, the same college, live in the same flat. Everything,” you added on with a small smile. “It’s been so long since we had deep conversations like this,” you chuckled.

It pained both of you to know how you two were getting further and further away from each others’ grasps as time went on. How life couldn’t just stop for a split second to let you two catch up, to let you two talk it out. To let you learn how to let things go and forgive him. But you both knew that was close to impossible. Life was getting into the way of fixing your relationship.

“It’s been so long since we had a long conversation in general, actually,” he chuckled, causing you to giggle, nodding in defeat. “You got me there,” you chuckled, feeling your heart clench slightly at his words before letting out an exasperated sigh, eyes looking back up at the sky.

“God, I just can’t believe it. Soon, we’re going to have jobs, study whatever for college, go out of town and live all on our own. Go down our own separate ways in life. Is this what growing up feels like? If only I could go back to when I was still in elementary school, really. Life was way simpler back then,” you rambled on, your tone getting quieter and quieter till Jaemin could barely hear you speak.

“I’d give anything to be fourteen again,” you sighed, leaning back against the chair with your arms outstretched beside you, closing your eyes to bask in the comforting atmosphere. Jaemin stared at your content expression, his lips parted ever so slightly as he tried to find the words to say next. “Who said we have to go our separate ways, though?” Jaemin asked in an almost inaudible tone after a pregnant pause.

You hummed in response, opening your eyes slowly to look back at the starry sky. “What did you say?” you murmured, fearing that you misheard him, your heartbeat beginning to pick up its pace. Jaemin took a moment to take a deep breath, mustering up the courage to repeat his words as his heart raced in his ears. “What if..” he gulped, his voice trailing off.

He turned to lean closer to your chair, watching as your eyes widened slightly at the sudden proximity. “What if I don’t want us to go our separate ways?” he asked in a brave tone, his eyes filled with determination and nervousness. You furrowed your brows, your pupils scanned his own as you sat up from your relaxed position, scooting back a little to give you both some space.

“What do you mean by that exactly?” you asked, cocking your head to the side in confusion.

He gulped, feeling his palms getting sweaty as his heart beats rapidly against his chest. “What if I still want to do the things we wanted to do back when we were 14?” he blurted out, pulling out the lollipop from his mouth and placing it in his red cup. “What if I still do want us to live together in the same flat? Go to the same college?” he rambled, catching you off guard with how bold he sounded.

“Jaemin, what? You know very well we-”

“We what? We stopped talking, so? We can start over and we can rekindle our friendship, right? Come on, we’ve been through thick and thin,” he leaned closer to you, causing your throat to run dry. “Jaemin, you’re getting a little too cl-” you stammered before Jaemin cut you off briefly. “Y/n, we’re soulmates, right?” he whispered, his face coming dangerously close to yours. You tensed up at the word, putting a hand on his chest to try to gently push him away, but for some reason you couldn’t.

You didn’t want to.

Something inside of you didn’t want you to push him away. Both of your eyes were locked in a trance when you felt Jaemin leaning closer and closer towards you, his head leaning to the side as you felt his breath hit your face gently, one of his hands coming up to lay on your knee for support. Your heart beating erratically in your chest, breaths hitched, eyes half-lidded when you felt the soft surface of his lips brush against your own.

Before Jaemin could actually press his lips against yours to kiss you, you felt your heart clenched tightly against your chest. The memory from the night at his house and the dinner party hitting you like a truck, causing you to use all of your might to shove the boy harshly off of you. He grunted in response, his back hitting the table beside his chair.

Your eyes shut tight as words came rushing through your brain, your heart beating fast and aching like hell against your chest, you clutched your left wrist in your palms, trying to ease down the burning sensation against your chest. You leaned your head down, tears pricking your eyes as you let out small whimpers under your breath.

Jaemin’s frantic apologies turned deaf as your thoughts became messy, all you could focus on was the pain in your chest and the flashbacks coursing through your brain. Your vision blurred as tears cascaded down your cheeks, small whimpers turned into small cries. Your thoughts became loud, you wanted to cup your ears in an attempt to shut them out but the pain in your left wrist was too great for you to pull away for even a second.

“I’m sick and tired of being constantly reminded that I’m bound to be soulmates with someone I didn’t choose to love.”

“I’m sick and tired of you constantly forcing me and telling me things just because we have the same stupid mark! You don’t know what it’s like when people tell you how to feel!”

“It’s exhausting to be with someone who’s so whiny and pushy. No matter how many times I fucking turn you down as gently as possible you’re stubborn self couldn’t see how annoying this whole thing is.”

It felt like hell.

“I-I’m so so sorry! I don’t know what came over me, oh god, what have I done? Fuck,” he rambled to himself, panic rising up his body as he apologizes repeatedly, oblivious to how much pain your were in. “God, I shouldn’t have done that. I-I’m so so sorry, I swear I just couldn’t take it anymore. I just- Y/n?” he looked up to see you clutching your wrist against your chest, breathing heavily to stifle your soft cries.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, his tone becoming worried and more panicked. He could feel his heart shattering into pieces when he saw your frozen state. You were trembling in your seat, your knees tucked against your chest as you held your left wrist protectively against you, small cries and whimpers eliciting from your mouth. “Y/n, hey, I’m so sorry for getting into your personal space like that, I really really am I-”

“Jaemin, I’m sorry,” you whimpered out, taking Jaemin aback. He watched as tears streamed down your face like a leaking tap as you mumbled small (almost inaudible) apologies under your breath. “I’m so so sorry, Jaemin,” you cried out, your voice breaking as sobs came out of your throat. “I didn’t mean to annoy you, I didn’t mean to ruin our friendship, I didn’t mean to do anything bad,” you cried, sniffling back your tears as words echoed in your mind repeatedly like a big cave.

“Anyways, I see you two are still getting along well. Tell me, Y/N, has my son finally accepted your undying love for him?”

“It hurts, it hurts, it really fucking hurts,” your breathing became unsteady as you gripped your wrist tighter, clenching your teeth to keep yourself from crying out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just wanted to have a soulmate who loves me back.”

Jaemin froze in his spot, his eyes going wide and red. His own heart was aching and his own tattoo mark started burning against his skin, but it was nothing compared to the pain he was feeling as he watched you break down in front of him. His mind screamed at him to comfort you, to hold you, to remove your pain away, anything to help you. But his body refused to move, he couldn’t move.

Does this always happen behind closed doors? Did you feel this much pain and guilt whenever he wasn’t looking for the past two years? Is this what made Donghyuck and Jeno glare at him with disappointed looks whenever he talked crap behind your back?

He felt sick to his stomach, guilt swallowing him up whole as memories of the warm smile you would always give him whenever he was in your line of vision was almost too painful to look at. Why were you willing to go through so much pain just for him? Just for someone who never treated you in the way you deserved?

It took him all this time to realise that you were constantly putting up a cheerful facade to convince everyone how you were determined to get Jaemin to fall for you, when really, you were just trying to convince yourself. He now realised why you said no to him. It did look pretty ominous for him to just show up two months after completely cutting off contact. God, if he were you, he never would’ve forgiven himself for all this.

It reminded him of the first time he felt his heart ache. How intense the pain was, so intense that he couldn’t even move from his spot. He felt his fingers twitch at his sides when he realised your tattoo mark was burning you. He heard his own heartbeat in his ears as he hesitantly leaned forward to you, his hands reaching out to hold you.

Your heart was ready to burst in your ribcage, you could practically feel burn marks forming against your wrist. Your heart screaming and pleading for the pain to stop but the voices in your head didn’t want to shut up. The voices- no, Jaemin’s voice inside your head was making the pain more unbearable by each passing second.

“I’m sick and tired of you not leaving me alone. I don’t like you like that, and I never fucking will. Get that through your thick skull, y/n.”

“Y/N.” a muffled voice called out.

“I mean it, y/n.”

“Y/N!”

You felt your left wrist being tugged out of your grip, a warm figure leaning close against your own, engulfing you in a tight embrace. You opened your eyes wide, feeling your breath hitch. It took you a second to realise that Jaemin was hugging you as tight as he could, his arm was wrapped around your shaking frame. His head was tucked in the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin comfortingly.

His thumb managed to slip into the cuffs of your sweater, softly caressing and soothing the burning pain, running the pad over the burnt skin and your redden tattoo mark. The sweet scent of his cologne hits your senses, calming you down almost instantly. The voices in your head disappeared as if they were shadows and Jaemin was your light in the dark.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly, feeling Jaemin pull away slightly. “I’m sorry for annoying you so much back then,” you whispered, basking in the feeling of Jaemin’s gentle hold on your wrist tightening, his arm that was previously around your waist had been retracted to his side. “I know I’m an annoying person in general but I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable all this time, I swear,” you used your free hand to wipe your tears off.

Jaemin smiled softly at you but before he could say anything, the universe decided to break into the comforting silence between you two.

“Y/N!”

You and Jaemin turned with wide eyes to see Renjun had opened the door widely, a worried expression spread across his face. Renjun’s pupils flickered from your teary eyes to Jaemin’s hold on you, his mind immediately going places before blood boils in his veins. “Na Jaemin, what the fuck are you doing to her?” he exclaimed, stomping over to the two of you.

“Renjun, calm down!” Jeno and Hyuck suddenly came into the scene, running with their phones in hand. “Oh shit,” Hyuck cursed, his eyes going wide when he realised they must’ve interrupted something. “What the fuck happened here?” Jeno exclaimed, feeling the tension in the air as they came up to the both of you.

Renjun pulled you off of Jaemin gently, “what were you doing to her?” he glared at the poor boy who gaped at him, not knowing what to respond. “Renjun, I-” you started before Renjun gently pushed you to Jeno and Hyuck’s grip, stumbling at your feet, you felt Jeno grip on your arm to help you stand up straight. Your mind spun as you tried to process what was happening.

“I said, what the fuck were you doing to y/n?!” Renjun grasped Jaemin by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up as he glared down at the younger boy almost menacingly. “We weren’t doing anything,” Jaemin shot back, pushing Renjun’s hands off of him as he stood up from the lounge chair with a deep frown on his lips.

“Really? Then why is she crying, huh? You must’ve done something to her,” Renjun growled, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy, who raised his brows in surprise. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the one who spiked her drink,” he spat, his eyes filled with anger and disgust towards the boy who he once called a friend.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jaemin yelled, his blood boiling at how Renjun could accuse him of doing such a thing. Why the hell would he say something like that? “Jaemin,” Jeno called out in a strict tone, causing the two boys to turn to him. “Y/n’s drink was spiked.”

You and Jaemin’s eyes widened at his words, mouth gaping. “What? But I’m fine,” you said, shaking Jeno’s hold off of your elbow before feeling weak at the knees. “She was fine a while ago?” Jaemin stuttered out, his heart dropping to his stomach when he realised if you didn’t push him away, he would’ve kissed you while you were intoxicated.

“Someone poured in some spiked alcohol while we weren’t looking, I don’t know who but I saw some white stuff in her cup,” Jeno explained, extending his hand to help you get up as you leaned against Hyuck. You felt dizzy, nauseous and hazy. Whatever you were drinking must’ve started kicking in now.

Oh god, why does this have to happen now?

Why now? Why you?

“Y/n, I-” Jaemin took a step closer to you before Renjun tugged him back by the fabric of his jacket. “You’re not going anywhere, you asshole!” he barked, the strong grip he had on his shirt causing Jaemin to stumble back on his feet, almost falling in the process. “Cut it out, Huang, I need to make sure if she’s okay-”

“No you’re not! I saw you try to kiss her, you’re not getting even an inch closer to her, you prick!” Renjun grunted when he shoved Jaemin back when he tried to push through the smaller boy to get to you. “I think we should get you inside to sober up,” Hyuck mumbled to your hazy state, watching you nod ever so slightly as you felt sick to your stomach. Renjun and Jaemin’s argument fell deaf to your ears, everything was spinning, your vision blurred and your mind pounded.

As Hyuck and Jeno dragged you back inside to get you to a quieter environment, Jaemin and Renjun continued to argue. “Fuck off, Huang! I need to check if my soulmate is alright,” Jaemin hissed at the shorter boy, shoving him backwards before turning around to go after you. “You heartless monster!” Renjun called out, causing Jaemin to stop in his tracks.

“How could you call yourself her soulmate after all the things you did? Do you have any idea how much she’s cried over you?!” Renjun gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his sides as he took a few steps closer to Jaemin. Jaemin stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding against his chest as he listened to the other boy’s words clearly.

“Y/n deserves to be happy, you sick bastard! She deserves to actually be happy, even if it means getting you away from her, you should be fucking ashamed of yourself!” Renjun exclaimed, knowing his words finally got through him. He couldn’t take it any longer, he was tired of seeing you cry over Jaemin everyday, he was tired of you putting up with so much pain just to move on from him.

He knew that you were moving on for the sake of Jaemin’s own happiness, not yours. So Jaemin doesn’t have to feel uncomfortable standing next to you, so that Jaemin doesn’t have to put up with anyone saying how he should be more considerate of having a soulmate like you. So you two could stop feeling so bad whenever your friends, your parents, your family would bring up the soulmate topic.

He was tired of seeing Jaemin so selfish all the time. It was time for him to get a taste of his own damn medicine, even if it meant saying what he promised he wouldn’t tell.

“You think I don’t know about that Renjun? You think I don’t know how much pain she’s been through because of me?” Jaemin snapped back, his fists clenched as he trembled, his guilt swallowing him up whole as he continued to speak. “You don’t think I’m tired of her looking at me with a fake smile just to convince me that she didn’t mind me rejecting her all the time? You don’t think I feel bad for her?”

Jaemin turned to face the boy who held a stone cold expression, he walked up to Renjun with a cold glare. “I don’t know if you know but lately, I’ve been trying to compensate for all the things I did in the past two years. I want to make things up so neither of us can be in pain anymore, y/n always wanted a soulmate who would shower her with countless love and affection. She deserves at least that,” Jaemin spat out, his heart screaming at him to let all of his pain out.

“Oh so you’re just doing this just to repent for your sins. You don’t actually like her, huh? That really says alot about you, Na Jaemin,” Renjun crossed his arms with a disappointed shake of his head. Jaemin jerked his head back, eyes wide at his statement, shaking his head vigorously. “No! She’s my best friend, of course I love her!” Jaemin couldn’t stop the words from exiting his mouth.

He never said he loved you before. So why now? Why didn’t he say it when you needed it?

Did he love you? Or was he saying it just to prove a point?

What was wrong with him? How did things become this messy?

“Sure, if you loved her then why the fuck did you do it?” Renjun resisted the urge to punch Jaemin across the face, swallowing down his nervousness as he finally spoke out what needed to be said. He knew you’d probably won’t forgive him if you found out he was the one who spilled this to Jaemin but at this point, if it gets Jaemin to leave you alone so you can live your life in peace, then so be it.

“Do what?” Jaemin asked, his eyes glaring daggers at the boy. “Why the fuck did you have to break her grandmother’s music box, you inconsiderate bastard!?” Renjun yelled out, causing Jaemin to tense up. His eyes going wide at the older boy’s words as silence finally broke between them, the atmosphere becoming thick.

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin managed to blurt out, his blood running cold when he remembered the wooden pieces of your music box hidden in a box underneath his bed. “Remember the music box she gave you at that dinner party? Yeah, that music box was the last gift her grandmother gave her before she passed away,” he hissed, watching as the blood drained from Jaemin’s face.

Jaemin’s heart dropped, his mind went blank as his throat ran dry. “What?” he said, flabbergasted by this new fact. “Yeah, why did you think she made a big deal out of it in the first place, huh? You’re so fucking sick, I can’t believe you didn’t know that. Didn’t you just say she was your best friend?” Renjun raised his fist to hit Jaemin before pausing, watching as how the boy stood in shock, trying to process his own thoughts.

Renjun’s eyes soften at this. After all, Jaemin was one of his closest friends before this whole mess started. When you told Renjun about how Jaemin destroyed the last gift your grandmother gave you, he was beyond livid. He wanted to kick Jaemin to the curb and make him beg for forgiveness but you insisted that he was just probably stressed and he didn’t mean to break it.

But he remembered judging by how broken you looked back then, it was as if you were saying that to reassure yourself rather than him. He remembered how you made him promise not to talk about this to Jaemin. You didn’t know if Jaemin knew about the previous owner of the music box, you doubt that he did. But in case he didn’t, you didn’t want him to feel guilty for it. After all, it did made you come to your senses that you were making him hate you with every step you made.

Renjun sighed, lowering his fist before moving to bump his shoulder harshly against Jaemin’s with a scowl spread across his face. “If you really do love her, then stop hurting her,” he mumbled under his breath before leaving a distressed Jaemin behind in the backyard all by himself.

Jaemin stood there frozen for a couple of minutes, hearing his heart beat getting faster and faster, his ears ringing loudly as his thoughts became messier. Guilt filled his stomach even more with the new information, tears lining his vision as he stared into nothingness. He sat back down on the lounge chair, running a hand through his hair and gripping it tightly.

He tried to keep his breathing stable as he fought the urge to let out a sob, his other hand clutching his knees as tears finally dropped from his eyes. Small water droplets stained his jeans as the hand that was in his hair came down to cover his face, sighing deeply before he lets out a loud-

“FUCK!”

“Y/n?” Jaemin called out, poking his head around the corner to see you sitting on the floor all alone. 15 year old Jaemin just arrived at the hospital with his parents with a bouquet of flowers for your grandmother, who was on her deathbed. It was a long week, especially for you.

Your grandmother was in the terminal stages of cancer. The doctor said she didn’t have much time left so he told your family that it’s best to start saying your goodbyes considering she has less than two months left to live. Jaemin knew how much your grandmother meant to you. After all, she was one of the nicest people he’s ever known.

She loved him and treated him as if he was her own grandson, despite the fact that she firmly believed that you and him were destined to get married. She often told him funny stories, good advice on life and took pictures of the two of you whenever you were together.

The thought of never seeing your grandmother again made his own heart heavy, but he couldn’t imagine the pain you were going through, yourself. Ever since your grandmother was hospitalized, you haven’t been in the best of moods. You always checked your phone in case you got a call from the hospital or in hopes that you got news that your grandmother was getting better.

But of course, you never did. And it killed Jaemin to see that it was killing you from the inside.

When Jaemin arrived at the hospital with his parents to say their own goodbyes, he noticed that you weren’t in the room with the rest of your family. Being the good best friend that he was, he decided to leave the room when no one was looking to try to find you.

You hated the hospital. It’s where a lot of lives are brought in and out of this world. The smell of hand sanitizers and disinfectants were almost too overwhelming as he ventured down the empty white halls. Sooner or later, he found you all crawled up in the corner at the end of an empty hall.

You were sitting down, your legs pushed against your chest, your arms wrapped around your legs as you buried your face into your knees. Jaemin felt small needles piercing his heart when he heard your soft cries echoing the empty room as his eyes wandered to the brightly decorated box placed right beside you.

“Hey, y/n,” he spoke in a soft, almost hushed tone. You let out a small hum, sniffling afterwards as Jaemin took small steps towards you. “How are you holding up?” he asked once again, squatting down in front of your crying figure. “Bad,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you spoke.

Jaemin bit his lip nervously, unsure of what to do to make you feel better. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” he whispered, bringing his hands up to his knees as he watched you attempt to keep your cries down so as to not disturb the other patients. He sighed when he saw you shake your head, your hair swishing to the side cutely at the gesture.

He chuckled sadly, nodding slightly before realising that you couldn’t see him. “Really? Not even a drink or a pastry? I promise I’ll pay if you want something from the cafeteria,” he offered once again before earning another shake of your head. “Okay,” he muttered, biting back a small sigh before scooting closer to you.

You heard him move to sit beside you on the floor, copying your position as his legs tucked against his chest, arms wrapping around them as he held the bouquet in his hands. You looked up at him, ignoring the fact that you probably looked like a huge mess with tears and snot dripping down your face. But fortunately for you, Jaemin didn’t seem to mind.

He shot you a sweet comforting smile. “Hey,” he said, watching as you wipe your face with the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. “You want to talk about it?” he asked rather hesitantly, scooting closer towards you so your shoulders were touching. You sniffed, feeling your eyes get watery again before furiously wiping your tears away, your face scrunched up as you try to keep yourself from screaming out in pain.

You shook your head once again, sobs eliciting from your mouth as you continued to cry. Jaemin nodded, his heart aching even more as he watched you break down in front of him. He felt his hands twitched as he continued to listen to your soft sobs, desperately trying to think of something to make you feel better.

He turned his head to you, his eyes boring into your figure. He kissed his teeth, sucking his lips in for a brief moment before mumbling a small ‘screw it!’ under his breath. He lifted his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders before gently pushing you to lean against him. His hand came up to your head, gesturing you to lay on his shoulder.

You jumped at the sudden contact, turning your head up to look at him with confusion. Eyes widening slightly when you saw that Jaemin was already looking back at you with half lidded eyes, exhaustion glossing over his pupils as he shot you a small smile. You wanted to ask him why he was here? When did he get here? How did he find you? But your heart was aching too much for you to mind it.

You sniffed before leaning your head back down on his shoulder, basking in the comforting silence between you as you continued to cry by his side, letting him stay right beside you. His hand that was on your head was now caressing your hair gently, his head moving to lay on top of yours as he closed his eyes in content.

“She can’t leave yet, Jaemin,” you muttered against the fabric of his shirt. “She can’t leave yet. I want her to see me with my soulmate tattoo on my birthday next year. I want to see how happy she’d be when I tell her I found my soulmate. I want her to tell me stories of how she met grandpa again-” you started sobbing against his shirt, wiping the snot off of your nose.

Jaemin frowned, pulling you tighter against him when he felt your tears soak through the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t mind though, as long as you feel better at the end he was willing to sacrifice all his shirts for your tears.

You both sat there for what felt like hours, eventually falling asleep together side by side on the floor. But sooner or later, one of your aunts found and woke the two of you up, saying how your grandma wanted to talk to Jaemin.

“Jaemin?” you questioned, rubbing the sleep out of your puffy eyes as you stood up with him. “Yeah, she said she had something important to give him,” your aunt nodded, giving the two of you a heavy smile as the three of your walked back to your grandmother’s hospital room. “Something to give me? But why?” he asked, turning to you with a perplexed expression.

You shrugged weakly, patting his shoulder. “I bet it’s to give you a jar of her cookies or something. Maybe to tell you the details of our supposed marriage later on, who knows,” you chuckled, cringing when you heard your voice crack at the end as you tried to hold back a sob.

“I mean, she gave me a goodbye present as well,” you said, gesturing to the bright box in your hand. “What did she give you?” he asked, looking down at the box. You shrugged, “some old stuff Grandpa got her on their first date, I guess,” you bit your lip as you fought the urge to cry again. ‘This really is a goodbye,’ he thought to himself.

Jaemin gulped, feeling his heart ache at the thought of never eating your grandmother’s special cookies after this. A lump gathered in his throat when he realised he won’t get to visit your grandmother after this.

No more playing around and listening to her life stories. No more eating her famous peanut butter cookies whenever he visits her home. No more getting your picture taken during the most random of moments and angles.

Jaemin bit his lip before knocking on the door, opening it with the other to poke his head in the room to see your grandmother talking to his teary-eyed parents. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when he saw your grandmother on her deathbed. Her skin almost pale as snow, body laying weakly on the white hospital bed as the heart monitor beeped so eerily every second.

“There he is!” your grandmother exclaimed, lifting her hands up with such enthusiasm that you could hardly believe that she was on the brink of life and death. “Jaeminie! How are you, my lovely boy! My my, you’ve grown so big! It’s been- what? Three months since I saw you?”

It was at that moment, Jaemin realised how much you resemble your grandmother. How you both managed to bring light and laughter even at the hardest times, even when you weren’t in the best condition. He shook his head out of his thoughts before his mind could wander to places he didn’t want to go.

“Hi, grandma,” he let out a forced smile, trying to ease the tension as he avoided his parent’s sadden expression. “So you said you wanted to talk to me?” he asked as he came up closer to her, sitting on the empty chair beside his parents, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans as he gulped silently.

She hummed and nodded, reaching over to the box placed on the table beside her bed, letting out a soft grunt. “Indeed. But before that, let me give you some presents first! I am not going to throw away the tradition of me giving random gifts to my grandbabies whenever I see them whether I’m sick or not,” she said, placing the brightly decorated box on Jaemin’s lap.

Jaemin felt his chest ache at the thought of your grandmother thinking of him as her own grandchild despite only being your childhood best friend. “You really didn’t have to,” he sighed, shaking his head up at her with a sad smile. “Oh nonsense! You’re part of the family, you deserve a gift as well before I go!”

Jaemin couldn’t figure out for the life of him how she could act so casually when everyone around her is mourning and sorrowful. After all, she wasn’t going to stay in this world for much longer, how was she so cheerful in front of so many people?

“Now, don’t give me that look! Go on! Open it! I’d like to take one last picture of my future grandson-in-law when he opens my last gift to him!” she gingerly reached over to the camera beside her frame. He chuckled slightly, pulling on the ribbon wrapped around the box ever so gently, pulling the lid off of the box before his jaw dropped and his eyes went wide.

There was a camera flash, signalling that your grandmother had taken a picture of his reaction.

She laughed, “you’re always so dramatic, son.”

Inside the box was a thick photo book that appeared to be made by hand. The pages were sewn together with brown thread and the hardcover of the book had a picture of you and Jaemin on the day you first met when you two were merely toddlers. “I-Is this?” he stammered, he couldn’t find the words to express how he felt at that moment.

“Yep, a big photo book filled with all the pictures I took of the two of you ever since you two were still babies. I got your parents to send me a few pictures to complete the whole book, though,” she explained as she examined the result of the photo she took. Jaemin took the photo book out of the box, opening it gently with his hands in awe.

He felt a smile spread across his cheeks when he flipped through the pages as memories came flooding through his thoughts. “I see you like my gift,” your grandmother smirked, crossing her arms. He looked up from the book, nodding before closing the book and placing it gently back into the box. “Of course! I love all of your gifts, grandma!” he smiled.

“That’s good to hear,” she nodded with a heavy sigh before her expression grew dark slightly. “Jaemin. I don’t know if you know but my condition isn’t getting any better,” she started, her tone growing more serious and strict, her hands gripping on the white blanket draped over her lap. “This might be the last time I see you,” she sighed.

“And I just want you to know. Even if something happens to me. Even if you and y/n have some kind of an argument. Even if the two of you don’t end up being soulmates like I always hope you would. Please look after Y/n.”

Jaemin felt his heart stop at the mention of you, gulping nervously. “You know Y/n yourself. You know how clumsy she is and how she puts others before herself. Therefore I’m trusting you, young man, to look after my granddaughter no matter what happens. Okay?” she stared at Jaemin so intensely, a sad smile forming on her lips as her cheerful demeanor faltered.

Jaemin gulped, nodding in determination as he gripped the box tightly in his hands before taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“Y/n!” Jaemin called out.

You turned to see Jaemin running up to you with wide eyes. You felt your heart race at the sight of him, eyes widening as you quickly shove your book into your locker. You slammed your locker shut before sprinting away, slinging your bag over your shoulder with your Biology textbook in hand.

“Y/n, wait! We need to talk!” he exclaimed, chasing after you down the halls, avoiding the eyes and whispers around you. “Shit, where’s Renjun when I need him?” you muttered to yourself as you turned around the corner, almost slipping across the wet floor in the process.

Unfortunately for you, Renjun had a meeting with the principal regarding the art club, leaving you all alone for the next half an hour. You found yourself running towards the entrance of the library, earning a distant ‘no running in the library!’ from the old librarian as you sprinted to the novel section.

You panted when you looked back, watching the entrance of the library with the corner of your eyes. You saw Jaemin burst through the door, earning a soft scolding a second later. You watched him take heavy breaths as he came up to the librarian with a worried expression, you assumed he was probably asking if she saw you coming here.

You leaned against the bookshelf, letting out a small sigh, rubbing your temples in distress. It’s been two days since the whole incident at the party. Despite being intoxicated, you remembered the events that happened clear as day. You remembered taking a sip of what was supposed to be cola, you remembered how addicting it tasted at that moment that you couldn’t help but drink more.

You remembered playing beer pong with Jeno and his friends. You remembered seeing Jaemin in Hyunjin’s backyard with his usual charming smile stretched across his face. The beautiful night sky with stars scattered all over. The close proximity between you as well as Jaemin’s fresh cologne filling your senses.

The exhilarating feeling that is being touched by your soulmate. The feeling of your hearts combining. How your breath hitched when Jaemin’s lips grazed your own, how your heartbeat was so fast you thought it was about to explode. How you never wanted the feeling to end.

How the universe tore the two of you apart in a second.

You remembered the flashbacks that occurred to you that night, how you shoved Jaemin away. The feeling of your heart being crushed to pieces over and over again, the excruciating pain in your left wrist. You couldn’t remember how it stopped though. You did remember the feeling of Jaemin embracing you to help comfort you.

You remembered his hair tickling your neck, his padded thumb caressing your left wrist. How your heart soared at his soft touch, the way he held you against him as if you were as fragile as a rare jewel he found in a deep cave. Your head ached at the thought of it. It was too good to be true.

‘He was probably being nice,’ you thought to yourself bitterly, closing your eyes for a brief moment before shooting them open at the sudden tight grip on your shoulder. “Y/n, we really need to talk,” Jaemin spoke from behind you, causing you to push his hand away harshly. “What is there to talk about exactly, Jaemin?” you asked, feeling your figure tense up at the sight of him.

“You know very well what,” he furrowed his brows, grabbing your hand to keep you from going anywhere. You gulped, knowing Jaemin wasn’t going to leave you alone until you talked. “What?” you sighed, rubbing your face with your free hand, letting Jaemin hold the other in his as you ignored the heart lightening feeling that it brought.

Jaemin inhaled deeply. closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them to look at his tight grip on your hand. “Why didn’t you tell me that the music box you gave me was the gift your grandmother gave you before-”

“How did you know about that, Jaemin?” you gasped, eyes blowing wide. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He ignored your question, looking up at you with such sadness in his eyes that you could feel your own heart ache at the sight. You frowned, attempting to tug your hand out of his hold.

“Jaemin let go,” you mumbled. “No, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you give me such an important thing anyway? Why would you give away something so special and valuable? I don’t understand, I’m just-” he rambled on, his grip getting tighter on your hand.

“Let go, Jaemin!”

“No, tell me why!”

“You really want to know?” you frowned, pulling your hand out of his so harshly it took Jaemin aback at the sudden force. You clenched your fists by your side, feeling your heart ache again. “You really want to know, Na Jaemin?” you spat watching as Jaemin gulped in front of you. “God,” you bit your lip, leaning your head up when you feel your eyes begin to water.

“I know this might be a shitty reason but before that dinner party, I was already on the brink of breaking and leaving you be. I was tired of feeling like shit all the time, I was tired of seeing the both of us unhappy all the time whenever I stood beside you,” you raised your forearm over your eyes, furiously wiping your tears away.

“I just figured,” you paused, swallowing down a sob when you realized the heartache you endured for the past two years was finally catching up to you. “If my soulmate can’t make me happy like the stories Grandma told me. Then maybe-at least I thought,” you sniffed your tears back, pulling your arm down to lay by your side almost lifelessly.

“I thought, if I made him happy, then we both can be happy together. Maybe then we wouldn’t have to feel upset anymore. But it didn’t work and I honestly don’t see a reason to keep doing it if it’s going to make you even more unhappy,” you whimpered, wiping your tears away before walking away from a hurt Jaemin behind at the novel section of the library.

Jaemin felt his own heart ache at your words, clenching his fists when he felt the familiar stinging sensation against the skin of his left wrist. Realising how fucked up the situation became with every step he takes, realising how he didn’t know what to do to heal the both of you. To make the two of you go back to when things were normal.

He realised he heard you call out his name desperately too many times, and yet, he didn’t care. Now that you stopped calling his name, he has no one else to turn to other than the hollow shell of your old self. But he knew he wouldn’t let you go when you were finally willing to walk away from him.

“I-Is it really too late for me?” he mumbled quietly to himself before a tear trickled down his cheek.

T A G L I S T : @candiednickles @itlittlefangirl @cherrym4rk @gotoartistprofile @d-nghyck @kingjvngins @aconeptun @chaeshii @lixseu @morks-watermelon @12am-musings @cherrystay @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta @cakelyn @uncovermenow666 @comically-sleep-deprived @wtfhaechan @xcherrybbyx @wishing–butterfly @wordsgodeep @seeing-dreams @sweetmoonlight9 @chwenchew @stuckwithhyuck

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neocity-sarai · 4 years

Text

"𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 _____" 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼

❀ chapter 2: reader x haechan

❀ enemies to lovers trope

❀ alerts: fluff, tinge of angst, language, mentions of drinking, heavy making out

❀ song rec: “tokyo” by owl city ft. sekai no owari

“Love in Tokyo”

What’s the one thing that’s the most important to you? It was always your voice, of course. Since the mere age of 4, singing was your whole world. Your dad had bought you the most expensive model of a child’s karaoke machine and it soon became something that you held onto in your sleep. Holding a microphone was like second nature to you, the way the gridded pattern on the ball of your microphone felt under your fingertips surged you with excitement. You’d hold a singing show for your family members every holiday: christmas, thanksgiving, and everything in between. When you became a senior high school student, assimilating into your school’s choir group was easy for you. The teacher showered you with compliments and always requested that you’d become the shining soprano of the girls’ choir- many of which called you “teacher’s pet” or too “arrogant for your own good”. To you, you never listened to them- your dream was to join the music program at Tokyo University of the arts. And you were sure that you would do whatever it took to get there.

One day, your choir teacher had told you that she had been a longtime friend of one of the instructors at the university and was thinking of hosting a traveling showcase. During lunch, she pulled up the website on the projector as she animatedly talked about what kind of things students learned and the connections they would build. The program specialized in everything ranging from music theory to divine performance, it was like she could look inside your head and spell out your dream. That afternoon, you pushed your parents to sign the permission slip the moment you stepped foot in your house. Your dad couldn’t reign in your excitement as you squealed when his pen hit the sheet of paper. You waved the paper around in the air but you were careful enough to not rip it as your mother eyed your father from the kitchen counter happily. Your father turned to you before popping a grape in his mouth, “So, what are you most excited about?”

You spun around several times, dancing light on your feet, “To have my solo at the showcase of course! I wish you guys could be there.”

“That’s why you’ll have to facetime us before and record it so we can show everyone we know!”

You run over to your mom and dad, pressing tight kisses to their heads, “I can’t believe I’m going to Tokyo!”

3 weeks later

You scanned through your list of items on the way to the airport, not that it would matter anyway since you triple-checked everything that you stuffed in your suitcase. Your mom read the list out to you: “Wallet?”

“Check!” “Passport?” “Check!” “Tampons?” “Ugh, check!” “Toothbrush?” “Check!” “Sweets, I think you have everything.”

Of course you did. Like you said, you packed everything neatly and efficiently. Your dad had helped you unload your suitcase before you caught sight of your friend Sunny and the rest of your classmates by the check-in counter. You kissed your parents goodbye before running over to her as she yelled for you, “Y/n! over here!”

You swung your arm around her, “Sunny! Are you ready to have the best trip ever?”

She smiled at you, “Sooo ready!”

Ever since freshman year, Sunny has always stuck by your side. She was a kind yet quirky girl, she always wore daisy clips in her braided pigtails. Your classmates made fun of her perkiness which is something you never minded. When it was time to finally board your flight, you couldn’t control the insane thrum of your heart, your toes curled at the thought of being on your way to the beautiful of Tokyo. Ironically, your excitement faded away during your 13 hour flight. The air of the plane was stuffy, you were sure that you were getting air-sick, and the refreshments cart wheeled over your foot about 5 times. You were not about to puke your guts out before your first day at the dream institute you’ve longed for your whole life. The pilot announced you’d be landing soon, Sunny turned to you, “How does my face look?”

You answered her, “Uh- good?”

“Really? I think I look like a mole that's been in a burrow for 13 years, I mean, look at my under eye-bags!”

You pat Sunny on the shoulder, “You look fine, it’s okay. We all look like that.”

Suddenly, the plane starts to shake from the turbulence as you both brace yourselves into your seats- you feel bile rise in your stomach. You swallow to force it down anyway. After passing the “Welcome to Tokyo” sign, it hadn’t really sunken in yet. You craved a hot shower and some fresh clothes the minute your teacher mentioned the hotel you all would be staying at.

That’s when it hit you. Tokyo looked as if everything you dreamed it to be. You were right at the heart of Shibuya, people crossed the street in every angle possible as glowing japanese characters hung from signboards. Even though it was daytime, you could imagine how beautiful it would look in the night time. Wires were strung over every telephone pole and streetlamp, creating a web of ropes between the buildings. Even the people in Tokyo were different: from stoic businessmen with briefcases to women who darted around wearing organza skirts- the japanese animations moved across towers of screens. Your classmates oohed and ahhed at gigantic trucks that whizzed by, video game characters flashing on the sides of them. After a quick meeting about liabilities and safety protocols, the choir teacher had let you all have some free-time. You and Sunny went back to your shared room- two other girls painting their nails on the floor. You tiptoed over to your bed, accidentally knocking your classmate’s nail polish in the process, “Oh- god- I’m sorry-”

She sneers at you, “Yeah, you should be.”

You opt to lay down, scrolling through your phone for a bit. Suddenly, your classmate raises her voice, “What are you guys looking most forward to on the trip?”

You point at yourself, “Are you talking to me?”

She blows on her nails before glaring at you, “There’s four of us in here, who else would I be talking to?”

Trying to answer calmly, you say, “You go first then.”

Your classmate snickers, “I can’t wait to meet all the cute boys who go to the university. I bet there's a plethora of them.”

Her friend quirks her eyebrows up at her, “What does plethora mean?”

“It just means a lot.” She mutters under her breath, cursing at her friend. You roll your eyes to Sunny as Sunny makes a stank face at the two girls who sit on the ground. Chuckling at the sight, you’re cut off by your classmate’s voice.

“What about you, y/n?”

You reply, “Honestly, I can’t wait until we go to class and learn about music studies. I can’t wait to sing in front of them.”

Your classmate scoffs, “Studious as always. You could loosen up, you know?”

You could go on and on about how hard you’ve worked to grasp this opportunity, only part of the choir was allowed to leave for Tokyo and you weren’t about to let it slip through your fingers for some meaningless fun. You shut your mouth in contempt, letting Sunny drone about all the delicious foods she wants to try.

First day of class

Walking into your group’s classroom- you can already tell how remotely different it is from your classroom tucked away in your high school. The room is a lecture hall that could seat hundreds of university students as various instruments were propped up against the corner of the room. There’s a platform where the professor sits at, a skinny japanese man who thumbs through various piles of sheet music. When the rest of us are seated, university students come piling in as they jostle each other through the doorway. You make eye contact with a boy who enters the room first, his friends hitting him on the back. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of such a boy, his eyes are smoked with iridescent highlights, and his hair is a chestnut color accented with violet streaks that shade his eyes slightly. He wears a red bomber jacket, his ripped black jeans tightly wrapping his long legs. Oh god, were you staring? Averting your eyes, the boy winks at you playfully before taking a seat in the aisle in front of you. You hear Sunny whisper in your ear, “Who was that? Did he just wink at you?”

“No, I think he just had something in his eye.”

You don’t expect him to turn around, “You guys must be the choir group that prof told us about, right?”

You and Sunny stare at each other before you respond to him with a burst of confidence, “That’s right. We’re here to learn about music.”

The skinny japanese man stands up on the platform before adjusting his microphone, “And you have come to the right place.”

The boy in front of you whispers at you both, “The name’s Haechan, baby.”

When he turns around to the front, you find yourself interested by this stranger’s behavior. Is this what university is like? Enjoying the lecture couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt. You remembered how you intently listened to the professor talk about music structures and societal conformities and how you talked Sunny’s ear off about it all through lunch. Meanwhile, your classmates and most of the university students had dozed off in their seats. When it was the end of class, your choir teacher had hugged the professor tightly before turning to face the class.

The professor speaks, “As you all may know, my good friend Barbra Lenor has come to Tokyo to teach her students about the art of music. I hope you treat them with respect and kindness. Haechan, Jaemin, and Chenle, you will be responsible for showing them around in exchange for extra credit.”

Haechan flashes a thumbs up to his professor, “Really, sir?”

You hear the boy called Chenle look at Haechan, “I was supposed to join the fortnite tournament tonight..”

The professor laughs at them, “ Haechan, extra credit couldn’t hurt. Chenle, find another time.”

“Class dismissed!”

After you and Sunny gather your belongings into your book bags, Haechan and his two friends stand by your desks as they gaze you up and down. You feel strangely curious yet skeptical. Your mother had always trusted you not to trust college boys- Haechan fit the perfect description of a boy anyone would tell you to watch out for. He radiated overconfidence, cockiness? Haechan scoffs at you, putting one hand at the corner of the table, “Listen girls, we’re very busy people and we won’t have time to do much. You’ll have to follow as we say.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Why would we have to do that? If you don’t want to, don’t force yourself because god forbid that you would have to.”

A mischievous smirk graces Haechan’s plush lips, he cocks up his eyebrow, “Huh interesting, when are you both free?”

Before you can refuse once more, your two roommates saunter over. Despite being in the same choir for 3 years, you never got to know their names until now. The taller girl was named Sara and her shorter friend- Chloe. Sara was also someone who seemed to fit that image of “a cat-like queen” who checked herself in the mirror every 6 seconds and her friend, Sara’s vessel to push around yet still stuck with her. Sara runs a hand through her brunette hair, “We’re free tomorrow after lecture, what do you say?”

You see Haechan scan Sara with his fiery eyes, licking his lips in the process. You grimace at the action, wondering if anyone had noticed. Haechan nods to you all, ��It’s a deal ladies.”

Within the first thirty minutes of the next day’s lecture, you did not wake up to expect that you’d engage in an argument with none other than Haechan. The professor had begun a lecture topic about the ways in which music could be interpreted. He played you a love song from some famous japanese film you had no clue about, still, you explained how hard it would be to understand music in a different language. Haechan countered you by saying that music in different languages is the definition of diversity and that you weren’t trying hard enough to understand it. Before you could refute him, you wanted to wipe the smug grin that was plastered on Haechan’s voice as he chuckled devilishly. The professor stopped you both from continuing, saying that you both brought up good points but missed the central message entirely. You grumbled to Sunny all throughout class. What gave Haechan the right to show off when you had just wanted to learn from others? You doubted that Haechan was at the university to learn anyway. After class, Haechan laughed in your face, “How’s it feel to be scolded by Professor Hinama?”

You roll your eyes at him, violently shoving your books into your bag, “Can it, Haechan. You got scolded just as much as I did.”

‘Yeah, but I’m used to it so it doesn’t get under my skin like it does to you.” You wanted to punch his pretty, perfect face. You felt the tension in your heart swell angrily when Haechan asks, “You guys still on for city-seeing tonight?”

You scoff at him, “As if I’d go with you.”

Sunny begins to clutch your arm as she squeals, “Come on! This is the perfect opportunity to see the city! We have to go!”

You motion to Sara, Chloe, and Sunny, “You guys can go ahead without me, I’m gonna work on my piece for the showcase.”

Sara laughs in a superficial manner, “Fine by me- the better honestly.”

“I won’t go if y/n doesn’t.”

Your eyes widen at Haechan’s statement, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you have to come with us.”

“But why?”

“Because you’ll spend your whole time here working. You need to loosen up a little.”

The last part of his statement burns in your brain. You were sick of people calling you uptight just because you wanted to chase your dreams and had real goals. It made you especially annoyed when Haechan said it. You were never this bothered. You didn’t want him to be right.

You answer him, “Fine. Be at our hotel by 7.”

“Yes, scary lady.”

You fight the urge to slash Haechan in the neck, he had Jaemin and Chenle to do that for him.

7 PM.

When 7 PM. rolled around, you had chosen a nice outfit no matter what Haechan and his friends had planned for you. Your mother helped you find your own fashion style, something that you’re deeply grateful for. You opted to wear tight-fitting jeans and a lilac off the shoulder top, silver crystals hung off your ear lobes. Sara clicked her tongue at you, “Wow, y/n, you’ve got style- I give you that.”

You nod at her, “Thanks.”

When Haechan and the boys arrive, you notice that they had taken the dress code just as seriously as you girls had. Haechan wore the same black jeans from before but opted for a matte leather jacket that was littered in gold chains. Jaemin wore shorts with a nice navy blue dress shirt, Chenle opting for a street style look as a white bucket hat shielded his eyes. Haechan moves closer to you, “Wow, miss uptight cleans up nice.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you huff, “I guess the same could go for you.”

Throughout the night, you found yourself enjoying running around Tokyo more than you had expected. The boys had taken you all to a three-story ramen restaurant that was insanely cheap- you couldn’t get enough of Haechan’s teasing when you powered through two bowls loaded of noodles. First, you hit Akihabara which was a neighborhood that was known as the electronic and video game part of the city as humongous robots suspended over taito gaming cafes. Tokyo seemed even more like a fantasy at night, you all would rush onto the subway right before it would leave- out of breath as you leaned back in your seats. Every hour, there was more to see: you went shopping in a nine story mall in Shinjuku, took photos with lolita girls in Omotesando alley, and picked up street-food in Mitaka. By the time you looked at your watch, it was already 1 am. Sunny kept complaining how her heels were hurting her feet so you had decided to do a more laid-back activity. Jaemin led you all to a small karaoke bar in the center of Kabuki-cho where colorful lights blurred in your vision. You felt like you were high on life, glowing sign boards dripped colors of electric blue and cherry reds as you skipped along the street. When you all finally got your private karaoke room, Haechan started to buzz over a waitress. He whispered some japanese words that none of you but his friends understood- the waitress came back with several sparkling glasses on a tray. She sent them down in front of you, you gulped it down for how much your throat hurt. Hiccuping, you and Sunny set the flutes down, you were hit with a sudden realization, “That was alcohol wasn’t it?”

Haechan leans back in his chair comfortably, spreading his legs on the cushion, “Sure was. Have fun.”

In normal circumstances, you never would ever think to drink a drop. Somehow, tonight seemed different and you weren’t about to let your friends get farther than you. Several flutes of sparkly liquids later, you couldn’t see straight. Everything felt like a psychedelic fever dream, faces laughing into yours as you danced on the couch or you belted into the microphone with Chenle.

Standing on the couch, you felt yourself lose balance, your legs wobbling from the effects of the alcohol. You fell, your butt landing on Haechan’s lap. You did the unthinkable- you booped Haechan’s nose with the tip of your finger, you said, “Hello, idiot.”

He held you, his arms wrapped around your waist, “Idiot? Don’t you think you’re talking about yourself?”

Your words slurred together, “Uh huh, yeah, nope, no, you’re a bully sir.”

You take a mental note of the slit in Haechan's eyebrow as he raises his brow at you, “Bully?”

Shoving a finger at his chest, you continue on, “You’re so mean- I just got here and I yeah, I you’re so mean to me in class- you don’t even know me that well.”

“Y/n, I know you’re tough so that’s why I do it.”

“You know, bully, I was upset about being scolded today- how could you bully me?”

Suddenly, Haechan’s expression turns sad, “You were?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean to make you feel that way, I-”

You shush him by pressing the pad of your finger to his lips, “Do you have a girlfriend?” You can’t even hear yourself anymore.

Haechan shakes his head, “I’ve never had one.”

You burst out into laughter, your skin feeling hot from Haechan’s fingers grazing the skin by your hip, “Whaaat? You? A playboy who doesn’t care about music at all and winks at strangers?”

Haechan’s frame stiffens, “Is that how you see me?”

Before you can answer, you laugh into Haechan’s shoulder as if his touch is your narcotic, “I don’t feel good but I do-”

The moment ends when he pushes you off his lap, placing a hand on your thigh, “Okay, time to get you home.”

You hear Sunny and Sara whine, Sara clings on to Jaemin’s arm, “Not yet!!”

Haechan stands as he tells Chenle and Jaemin to watch Sara, Chloe, and Sunny, urging them to stay longer. He lifts you bridal style, your arm slung around his neck, “I’m taking you home.”

You still protest by slapping his chest in which he had to deal with the whole train ride back. When you make it up to your room, Haechan sets you down on your bed before tucking the comforter over your body. With alcohol still running in your veins, you grab a hold of his palm, “Can you stay a bit?”

“I thought I was a bully.”

“You are but I don’t hate you.”

Haechan cards his free hand through the tufts of his hair, his face illuminated in the dim light. From that angle, Haechan looks ethereal. He stares down at you with dark eyes, his lips pursed with amusement, “That’s nice to hear.”

He sits on the ground by your head, his hand still intertwined with yours. You don’t know why this question eats up at you, why it even affects you. You whisper to him from under the covers, “Haechan, what do you even go to Tokyo university for?”

He looks at you with softened eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line, “You know, I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me.”

“How so?”

“As a kid, my dream has always been to enter a celebrity training program in Seoul. I’m not that good to be so high level yet so my parents sent me to study in Tokyo first.”

Suddenly, you feel incredibly sober. You sit up on your bed, the cover falling away, “Really? Aren’t those programs really hard physically and mentally?”

He nods, his fingers picking at his chin, “If it wasn’t a challenge, people wouldn’t become asia-based singers. I haven’t given up yet.”

You stare at him in awe, his voice hard with determination and strength, “Wow, I had no idea.”

“What about you?”

You answer him, “I’m my choir’s lead soprano. Like you, I feel like I was destined to sing. My dream is to study here in Tokyo and then balance singing with becoming a music professor.”

Haechan muses, “I’m not surprised, you’re a bright girl. I’ve seen your passion for music, the way you talk with confidence in class. It’s amazing.”

You feel a blush creep up your neck and your cheeks at his compliment, you clear your throat, “Do you write?”

“I do, I’ve been working on my own piece for the showcase.”

Haechan goes silent for a moment before he whips out his phone from his pocket, “Do you write?”

“Of course.”

“I-uh- I’ve been stuck on one verse for a while and I was wondering if you could help me?”

When you look at Haechan’s sparkling eyes, you sense his uncertainty. You sense his conflict. You nod at him, ushering him to read you his song. When he does, you see a different light in Haechan. You take note of the way he taps his foot into rhythm, humming and clicking his tongue to illustrate the flow of the song. You see the makings of an artist. He’s just like you. When he’s done, he looks up at you, “So, this part- here. I’m stuck.”

Immediately, you snap your fingers to the beat as you scat to the song, “I think you should add a b chord here and a f sharp chord there. I think it would highlight the chorus well like playing down the notes before the bridge.”

Haechan scribbles your comments onto his phone, his finger gliding all over the screen. He pauses before ad-libbing the song once again, your advice in account. All of a sudden, he jumps up from his chair before attacking you into a bear hug on to your bed.

“Oh my god, y/n, you did it! My song is done!”

Staring at him with wide eyes, you rest your hands on his shoulders, “Congratulations, Haechan.”

Without a moment to spare, Haechan leans forward to crash his lips onto yours. You pull back in surprise, eyeing him with affirmation. Haechan pins your wrists to the wall as you press your back flat against the wall, allowing him to kiss you fervently. You shiver from the way your lips mold over Haechan’s, his hands intertwined with yours against the wall. Slowly, Haechan drags his lips down to the hollow of your neck, he presses burning kisses to your skin. You sigh with pleasure, a whimper coming from your lips when he straddles your lap. You hear him grunt when you release his hand and press your hand to the back of his neck. He pulls away briefly to look at you, “I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”

You gaze at him, his eyes half-lidded and drunken of the feeling of your touch, “Me neither.”

He lets his leather jacket fall to the floor before lifting the hem of his white tee over his head. You pause at the sight of him being shirtless in front of you, you drag your fingers across the toned muscle of his chest and his stomach. He’s not extremely ripped but he’s not without muscles either. You hear Haechan’s breathing get heavy when he places his hand over yours. Your bodies are extremely hot now, the temperature rising when Haechan bites your bare shoulder. You whine, feeling the fabric slowly slipping down from your shoulders. You resort to taking it off entirely, it lands by Haechan’s jacket on the floor. When he sinks his teeth into the area near your collarbone, you let out a yelp only for Haechan to whisper in your ear, “Baby, you can’t be too loud.”

You decide to try something new by tugging Haechan’s hair back before pressing your lips to his neck. He laughs at your attempt to be stronger than him, stroking your cheek when you pout, “Don’t laugh at me! See, this counts as bullying!”

He shakes his head before allowing you to pepper kisses down his chest, your hair looped around his fingers. Becoming impatient, he raises your chin to meet his lips again as his tongue parts through your mouth causing you to squeeze his hip bone from the reaction. He wraps his hand around the curve of your thigh, his nails digging into the fabric of your jeans. He starts to whisper in your ear, “I think I’m-”

Before he can finish his sentence, you hear your friends’ voices echoing from down the hall. You push him off you, “oh shit!”

He laughs as he watches you to scramble to put your shirt on. When you do, you turn to see Haechan who isn’t moving at all. He sits on your bed, his shirt and jacket still on the floor, “What are you doing?! They’re coming?!”

He gives you a playful smirk, “And?”

It’s too late. The girls walking in see Haechan shirtless on your bed, red marks all over both of your necks. Sunny gasps the loudest, “Were we interrupting? Oh sorry- jesus-”

Sara and Chloe smirk beside her. You grab Haechan by the arm, pressing his t-shirt and jacket to his chest, “Get out!”

Haechan stammers over his words, clutching his clothes against his body, “Wait- I -Hold on-”

You slam the door in his face, “We have class tomorrow, go home already!”

“Come on, y/n! We were just-”

“I said go home Haechan!”

You hear him waddle away, Sunny and you roommates scampering into bed. You turn off the light, laying back into your pillow- your thoughts plagued with heated moments of Haechan’s lips on yours, blushing at the thought of what could’ve been if you weren’t interrupted.

Your next couple weeks were memories made with your new friends along with Haechan, especially Haechan. You and Haechan made it some secret game to sneak around when your professors and classmates weren’t looking, ransacking the bread stand during lunch. You snuck up on to the roof, Haechan’s warm hand enclosed in yours as he draped his uniform jacket around your shoulders. He’d giggle at your dumb jokes, resting his head on your lap as you’d run your fingers through his coffee-stained hair. It felt like bliss, breathing the cold Tokyo air- alone with a boy who still didn’t cease his teasing during class. You didn’t mind it as much anymore, knowing that Haechan wouldn’t say words with bad intentions. Professor Hinama had scolded you both because Haechan kept trying Chenle to pass you notes that he wrote you, lines of cheesy poems comingled with some crude insults about how you had bedhair or how your breath smelled bad. Of course, you wouldn’t let him win so easily. One night, Haechan decided to take you to a arcade in Shibuya, it was a night that was to be written in the books. Haechan raided you tokens, shoving them into the claw machine because you told him you thought the stuffed bear in the case looked like him. He was determined to win it for you no matter how much you screamed at him for wasting your tokens on one game. You both danced together on the rainbow-colored pad of dance revolution, Haechan pushing you over so you would lose. He might’ve won then but he was not to beat you at mario kart. You concentrated on the spinning track, surging past the finish line at 1st place as Haechan pouted at you, begging for another try. You shook your head, “I won fair and square, end of story.”

“But, y/n, I was distracted!”

“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it?”

Haechan continues to whine at you, you pull him into a hug, “Let’s go play another game!”

By the end of the night, Haechan finally managed to win you that stuffed bear- a souvenir of the newfound feelings you two shared, the fondness of each other.

Many nights were filled with city outings with your friends. Once, Jaemin tried to balance a teppanyaki stick on his nose was Sara and Sunny recorded him at the same time. Little flashbacks of when Haechan grabbed your hand, your friends darting out of the restaurant in order to prank Chenle who was a poor boy who was just in the bathroom, his confused face making you all laugh. It was the little moments and the memory of staring up at Haechan’s bright eyes amongst the colorful lights that made you wish you could stay in Tokyo forever.

Day of the showcase

If you could see inside yourself, you were sure that you could see your nerves bouncing around- darting back and forth in your stomach. You and Haechan spent the last week practicing your pieces- sometimes he would lie to you, claiming that he needed help on averse but pressed a firm kiss to your lips when you leaned in close. You hit his arm, “What if someone walks in?!”

Haechan raises an eyebrow at you, “They should enjoy the show.”

You shove him off his chair before he attacks you with more pecks all over your face, your cheeks tinged with a shade of pink. Once you both were confident in your skills, time seemed to fast forward to the day of the showcase. That evening, you slipped on your favorite dress that your mother packed in your suitcase before you left. Sunny and Sara helped do your hair and your makeup as you wished them luck on their performances.

Walking into the auditorium, it was like everything you dreamed of. It was a grand hall that glowed golden as red, cushioned seats lined the room, a stage at the center under the spotlight. You made your way backstage, thumbing your flashdrive anxiously as your heart beat out of your chest. Was it getting hard to breathe? You felt a sigh of relief when Haechan trotted up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “We’ve worked hard, we got this.”

You nod at him, playing with his fingers in the process when you both take your positions in line. Watching from backstage, it’s just as beautiful as watching in the audience. You got to see what each student felt before they stepped out into the light and how they felt after the standing ovations. When it was Haechan’s turn, he straightened his satin tie, giving your hand one last squeeze. You felt your breath hitch in your throat when Haechan sat at a grand piano, his back faced away from the audience. He sighs before meeting your eyes, “This is a special piece I wrote when I was searching for my purpose. Someone has taught me the meaning of music and why I do it- why it connects people.”

You smile when he winks at you as he starts the ballad he had first showed you. The spotlight dims into a shade of periwinkle blue and the screen on the floor blooms as an ivory lily under Haechan’s feet. The whole time you practiced, you admitted how you adored the rawness of his voice. This was on an entirely different level. The way he raised his head when he belted the high notes or the way he would scrunch his nose with emotion made your heart swell. The cheers were ear-deafening, people threw a few flowers at him when he finished. Making his way backstage, he pressed a firm kiss to your lips before gazing at you, “You’ll do amazing.”

Walking past him, you take your place on the center of the stage- the spotlight changing into the rosy pink. You felt a weight sink into your chest. Why were there that many people? You never usually got stage fright, your legs wobbled with anxiety. You looked to the side, Haechan leaned on the stage beam as he nodded at you. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself go. You sang harder than you ever did before, your heart soared every time you remembered your family, friends, and Haechan as the words fell from your lips. When you were done, the crowd screamed for you. Feeling a sense of pride, you bowed to them- your dress basking in the pink spotlight.

The show finished with outstanding performances, each one had a different genre and a unique voice to go with their performances. Haechan lifted you in the air, spinning you as your classmates (now friends) tackled you with happiness. You all felt a sense of achievement, an experience that seemed the most valuable in the world. That was until a tall asian woman dressed in a white suit motioned Haechan over. You watched as he gave you a look of confusion- in your heart, you knew what she was about to say. You didn’t have to hear her words to know. Running back to you, Haechan down-played his enthusiasm of getting a scout letter to Seoul, Jaemin and Chenle pulling it out of his hands to read it. Of course, you were happy for him. Did you have a right to stop someone from chasing their dreams in exchange for your short-lived crush? No. You wouldn’t if he had stopped you. Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around his waist as you whisper to him, “My flight leaves back to the states tomorrow morning.”

You physically feel his body sink with disappointment as he peeled you off his body, “Can’t you just stay here?”

You sweep his hair behind his ear, caressing his cheek, “You’ll be in Seoul, you should take this opportunity to fulfill your dreams and I- well, home is back there..”

Haechan hesitates, stammering over his words, “I-I don’t even know if I-I’m sure about Seoul. What if I can’t? What if-”

You press a lingering kiss to his cheek, “You’ve shown me you’re capable. I know you can.”

Haechan buries his face into your shoulder hastily, you freeze when you hear Haechan let out a sob. All you can do is rub his back comfortingly.

When you head back to the hotel with the girls, Haechan, Jaemin and Chenle make sure to see you before driving to the airport. A tear falls from your cheek, taking in the last few breaths of the sweet air of Tokyo- the city that would always hold a special place in your heart. Haechan pulls you in for one last hug before whispering in your ear, “Promise me you won’t give up on you dreams either.”

Smiling at him, you say, “You won’t see me doing that.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, “You’ll always be the first one to me. No matter what the future is, you’ll always be the first.”

A tear slips down your cheek, you wipe it away quickly, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

As your taxi bus drives down the narrow road, you and the girls press your faces against the back window, the three boys pretending to run after the bus. You meet eyes with Haechan, a bright smile on his face as he waves you one last farewell.

Bonus:

Years later

“Hey! y/n! Get downstairs, you’ll be late for school!”

“I’m up!”

Running down the stairs, you slip your jacket over your shoulders before taking a seat at your dining table. You hear your father’s radio playing, a beautiful voice drifting from the small box.

“What’s that song dad?”

Your dad sets down his newspaper, a grin plastered on his face, “I don’t know but some new band released this gem! I can’t stop listening to it!”

You pull out your phone to shazam the song, a profile of a band swiping up on your screen. You don’t believe your eyes. You hold your breath for a moment, Haechan’s photo rotates on the app.

“Do you know them?”

Smiling at your dad, you say, “Something like that.”

In your mind, you’re proud of him. He finally achieved his dream.

45 notes · View notes

dreamycarat · 4 years

Text

Gallery Of The Fading Ones

Title: Gallery Of The Fading Ones

Characters: Photographer!Jaemin, Dancer!Renjun, NCT Dream

Summary: Na Jaemin decides to photograph a dancing butterfly for his next gallery, knowing that the season is about to pass soon.

Genre: Friendship, love, slight angst

Words: 7745 words

October 2019; The Angel Who Paints Galaxy

Pictures speak volume.

Nothing but the photos captured on Jaemin’s camera can describe how it is possible for an angel-like figure to appear among the hospital volunteers. With the soft piano melody accompanying the man on the centre of the small stage, he paints a galaxy full of bright shining stars with his graceful limbs. Hands forming a circle in front of his chest, he twirls a few times in a rhythmic pace before he lowers his upper body and extends his right leg high in the air, into a full back split. Jaemin swears he can see white blinding wings spread from the back of the figure, but his camera doesn’t agree with him.

The cheers the dancer receives from the audience don’t match the ethereal beauty of the world he takes them to in his dance routine. At second thought, Jaemin thinks the man doesn’t get enough acknowledgement for his talent- which explains why the Korean drops the camera in his hands and gives the dancer a deafening round of applause a few seconds after the cheers fall silent. All heads turn to his direction and before he knows it, he looks like a ripe tomato in summer.

Renjun pauses his step down the stage to find the source of the late applause, and their eyes meet. He flashes a big grin to the embarrassed man before he shifts his eyes somewhere else, containing his laughter at how red Jaemin looks.

Jaemin lets out a big sigh of relief as the emcee comes to his with a few remarks from the fantastic performance Renjun and Chenle hold. He shakes him head in disbelief, giggling at the incidence few seconds ago. He makes a mental note that a Jaemin in complete awe should never be allowed to appear in public. What a shame to his professional image…

Jaemin takes a quick preview on the photographs he managed to take during the performance, and one conclusion is made – The dancer is, indeed, an angel.

“Thank you,” an unfamiliar soft voice rings in Jaemin’s ears. “That’s quite of a… loud round of applause.” A hint of amusement is laced in the man’s honey-like voice. Renjun gives the taller man a shy smile as he turns around with a big Canon camera in his long fingers. The Chinese notices the picture displayed on the device – it’s him, black hair, with the brown plaid shirt and black slack pants, forming a split.

“Mind if I take a look?”

Jaemin somehow forgets to breathe. As if all the oxygen in the world is suddenly depleted, his lungs stop asking for more air. To be more exact, his brain is on the ‘pause’ mode. Perhaps it’s the way the smooth voice matches the angelic face of the man in front of him. Or perhaps it’s the absence of gap between them when the other person steps closer to see the photo in the camera. Either way, Jaemin is not used to the erratic heartbeats he is experiencing.

“Can I?” Renjun looks up to meet Jaemin’s eyes.

The photographer swears he sees the galaxy in those round eyes. It’s the same galaxy Jaemin sees through the man’s performance when he decorates the stage with stars and orbits through his short limbs.

“I guess I’ll take your silence as a yes,” the dancer says again.

The warm fingers wrapped on top of Jaemin’s send a jolt of electricity down his spine and hit him with a sudden wave of realization. His hands tremble as Renjun hold both his fingers and camera steady in those tiny hands of his, and Jaemin confirms that the man is indeed from heaven. It makes no sense how a complete stranger has the power to make his heart race with such unfamiliar comfortable kind of warmth.

“I look quite good here,” the shorter man chuckles, releasing his hands from the camera.

“You are,” Jaemin replies under his breath. It is more of a mumble, something that isn’t supposed to be heard by the man before him, but Renjun is quick to reply with a sly “I know.”

“And you take beautiful pictures,” the man compliments.

Jaemin’s daily happiness meter reaches the maximum level at the praise. Even if he is a world-famous photographer with various achievements, it feels different to be acknowledged by an angel with invisible wings.

Jaemin doesn’t know how to respond verbally, so he plasters a small smile on his face. God seems to be saving him from making a fool out of himself even more when the green hair man who played the piano during Renjun’s performance calls the dancer. They speak in a foreign language Jaemin doesn’t understand as he stands frozen in between them. The pianist is all grinning the whole time, eyes forming cute crescents as he tells a story or something. A tall, broad figure of a younger man then appears out of nowhere, eyes on the excited man.

“Do you want to get some ice cream after this?” The man with the tag ‘committee’ pinned on his shirt asks, voice deeper than the ocean.

The green-haired man steals a quick glance on Renjun before the dancer nods and pushes him towards the committee. They speak Mandarin, Jaemin realizes, when Renjun shouts the word ‘jiayou’ at his friend.

“You speak Chinese?”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “You speak Chinese too?”

The taller man shakes his head.

“I’m Chinese, that’s why,” Renjun offers a brief explanation.

“But you speak good Korean? Like… I don’t hear any accents or anything.”

Renjun turns to Jaemin with an amused face. “It’s because I came here when I was 14.”

“Oh…” Jaemin mouths before the conversation meets a dead end. At times like this, he resents himself for being an introvert because today is his only chance to talk to an angel, but here he is, by the window in a hall full of cancer patients, hands holding the camera, eyes straight into the dancer’s, but mouth sealed, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

“My late mother was treated here. She used to sit on the front row, right opposite of the centre of the stage…” Renjun points at the empty chair. “She used to cheer for me so loud after every dance,” he giggles, “it was quite embarrassing.” The giggle stops and after a few seconds, Renjun gives Jaemin a soft gaze. “You kinda remind me of her.” His voice lowers before he laughs it off. “But it’s a good thing, no worries. It’s just that… If you were to ask me, I would suggest you clap at the same time of the audience, not after everyone has finished clapping.”

Jaemin breaks into laughter. “I’ll definitely remember your suggestion, sir.” At the mention of ‘sir’, he realizes he still doesn’t know the name of the beautiful person he’s been talking to.

“I prefer ‘Your Majesty’ instead of ‘sir’, but since you take great pictures, you get to call me by my name…”

Renjun’s soft voice is drowned by the high note from the trot singer on the stage.

Jaemin squints his eyes to read Renjun’s mouth. “Say again?”

“Huang… Renjun.” The pronunciation is so Chinese that Jaemin has a hard time to follow along. Upon reading Jaemin’s awkward face, Renjun mentions his name again, making sure Jaemin repeats after him. He finds the Korean struggling to pronounce his name cute, he won’t lie. Although his Korean name is much easier, he prefers his Chinese name. After all, it’s the name his mother gave him.

After a few trials, Jaemin finally gets the pronunciation right.

“You owe me a dance because your name drains my energy,” he dramatically cries, a hand wiping off imaginary sweat on his forehead.

Renjun flashes him a confused look before his lips curl upwards into a pretty smile. “Sure,” he shrugs. “That means you’ll have to see me perform in Seoul Plaza next month for my graduation.” His eyes light up at the thought. “Give me your number. I’ll text you the details.”

Jaemin fishes for his business card in his pocket, and when he hands the rectangular piece to the Chinese man, the man straight away reads what’s written on it.

Na Jaemin, an award-winning photographer based in Seoul.

“Photographs are impressive storytellers…” Renjun coughs. “Interesting.” His eyes then fall on the quote on the bottom of the card. “Let the pictures tell your stories…” He looks up. Upon the eye-contact with Jaemin, he carefully asks, “Do you think you can tell my story to the world?”

Jaemin blinks.

“It’s nowhere near great, but I’ve always wanted to be known as a dancer, even if it’s just for a brief moment.” When the taller man is lacking any response, Renjun scratches the back of his head. “It’s okay, forget I asked that,” he laughs it off as his face turns red.

“N- No,” Jaemin stutters, “I’d love to!”

It feels as if an angel falls from heaven for him, and he is willing to use all his luck in the world for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with the beautiful dancer that paints galaxy.

November 2019; Dia De Los Muertos

For the first time in forever, Jaemin is having second thoughts at capturing Renjun’s solo performance on the stage. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but a big part of him wants to enjoy the beauty of the hard work Renjun puts into his self-made choreography. Renjun even gets him the most strategic seat among the audience as he requested, emphasizing the importance of the right angle and lighting. And here Jaemin is, right in the middle of the front row, with a large camera in his hands. He clutches on the device tightly as the lights are switched off. Only the fairy lights outlining the stage shine as a guide for the performers, before it gets total dark.

The drum beats once, followed by the strumming of the acoustic guitar. The spotlights focusing on at the stage are switched on, highlighting the troop of performers on the stage with synchronized steps. Jaemin’s eyes are quick to catch the familiar small build of the Chinese man at the side of the stage before he makes his way towards the centre, leading the other 20 dancers in the performance. Jaemin is too busy clicking on the snap button of his camera, adjusting the angles and focus every other second to even be immersed into the story they’re telling through their bodies. The only thing at the back of his mind at that moment is to capture the photographs that will do justice to Renjun’s angel-like moves.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Through a series of steps, Renjun then disappears at the back of the stage as the other performers take the stage. With the camera still glued on Jaemin’s face, he scans the whole stage, looking for any signs of Renjun. What surprises him is when the lights are switched off, leaving a spotlight at the centre of the stage. The dancers are on their knees, pointing to the only lighted area as an angel in white from neck to toes falls slowly from the ceiling.

There, supported by the strong wire, is Huang Renjun.

He looks ethereal.

The satin white shirt that hugs his abdomen in such a sultry way as his arms spread like a butterfly’s wings, as if he is enjoying all the attention on him. He closes his eyes, lips slightly parted, chin tilted. His ebony black hair completes his look in every way possible. He stills in his position for a good minute before he finally opens his round eyes. Among the sea of audience, the man in baby blue coat on the front row catches his attention. The big lens the person is holding sends thrills to Renjun’s spine as he takes a deep breath and spins mid-air.

The audience gasps.

Like a whirlwind, he twirls with such delicacy again and again, until his feet finally reach the cold stage. The music stops. Lights off. The sound of an arrow hitting a target then echoes in the hall. A few horrified yells come from the stage as the spotlight focuses on Renjun. He suddenly falls backwards in calculated steps. Red inks are smeared all over the silky white clothes and before anyone knows it, the curtain falls.

Jaemin is in complete awe. He doesn’t realize he hasn’t been breathing until his lungs burn from the lack of air. He lets out a deep cough and pants, catching his breath.

What a performance! And it’s just the first performance of the night!

Jaemin enjoys the rest of the performance with an easy heart before his phone lights up with a message from Renjun.

I’m up next. I hope you’ll get your aesthetic shots from your seat. Good luck!

Jaemin scoffs. Renjun is the one who needs good luck, not him. He’s just sitting in his seat comfortably with a camera in his hands, about to take pictures of an angel who paints galaxy with his limbs. Luck is already on his side.

The curtain opens with the first strum of the acoustic guitar, revealing Renjun at the centre of the stage, with a spotlight on him. He has his back facing the audience as he sways to left and right lifelessly, according to the downbeat melody. Petals of marigolds cover certain parts of the stage, creating a trail which ends with a frame of a woman’s picture on the altar at the side of the stage. He looks small compared to the big stage, but he conquers it with his powerful yet elegant movements, still back facing the audience. And when he finally turns around, he shocks everyone with the absurd makeup on his face.

Jaemin zooms in.

Renjun’s face is all white, decorated with a few flowers of blue, pink and purple all over his forehead, cheeks, and chin. Tiny yellow petals surround both of his eyes, encircling the dark brown eyeshadows. The tip of his nose is black. His lips are drawn as if they are stitched by a black thread. He looks like a skull, overall, but a magnificent one.

The other instruments join right after, violin and piano making up the beautiful Mexican-themed music. Renjun’s limbs hit the notes each time, bringing the audience to the afterlife. He dances around the trail of marigolds, expressing his sadness and longing for someone. For a brief second, it reminds Jaemin of Renjun’s mother. He did mention that his mother was suffering from breast cancer before she died 3 years ago. Perhaps that is the reason why the feelings he radiates from the choreography are raw and suffocating. His face says it all.

And when the music comes to an end, Renjun falls on his knees, defeated, still stuck in the afterlife he’s in. He pants hard. The beads of sweats are obvious through the lens, rolling down Renjun’s sideburns like a stream. He shuts his eyes, chin tilted, as the audience cheers for him.

It hits Jaemin that Renjun doesn’t just paint galaxy on the stage.

He paints life, too.

After the show finally ends, Jaemin waits for Renjun outside of the hall, eyes skimming through the photographs he captured. The proper lighting does justice to his pictures, and not to mention that Renjun looks extremely dashing the whole night with his white costume that compliments his black hair. And the most important thing is the expression Renjun wears on the stage – he seems as if he belongs there, as if he was born to tell stories through his body movements.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Renjun runs towards Jaemin with a knapsack hanging on his small shoulders. He has erased the skull makeup, and now he looks like an angel again. “Do you want to grab something to eat before we part ways? I’d like to hear your feedback.”

Luck is always on Jaemin’s side, and he is sure he will have to pay for the interest later.

They stop at a chicken restaurant. Renjun orders a lot because he says he hasn’t been eating since morning, but Jaemin knows the Chinese won’t be able to finish them later.

“So, how was it? Did you enjoy the show?” Renjun asks, eyes light up from excitement.

Jaemin only speaks compliments, as if it’s his mother tongue. He loses count of how many times he utters the word ‘wow’ but he’s glad the man before him looks pleased with his comments. The wide grin he pastes on his handsome face at every praise fills Jaemin’s heart with such warmth.

The grin somehow fades gradually when Jaemin asks about his inspirations for his solo performance. The Chinese then takes out his phone from his pocket and types out something. After a while, he shows Jaemin the screen. Pictures of people in aesthetic skull makeup fill his eyes. They remind Jaemin of the makeup on Renjun’s face during his solo dance.

“Dia De Los Muertos… Day of the Dead.” As Jaemin scrolls the screen, Renjun continues, “It’s a national holiday for Mexicans. It is believed that spirits of the dead visit the living during the celebration.”

The waiter then interrupts to serve their food and after she leaves, Renjun adds, “I was watching Coco the other day. And I thought, ‘oh, why not do a performance based on this story?’ so I did some research regarding the culture and walla, there goes the performance.”

Jaemin passes him the phone as the Korean mutters, “Oh, I see. I thought it has something to do with your mother, I’m sorry.”

Renjun places a fried chicken on his plate before he flashes Jaemin his teeth. “You’re not wrong, honestly. I do think of my mother when I was on the stage. I put her picture in the frame on the stage, if you notice.” He chuckles darkly. “And for your information, today, 1st November, is the Day of the Dead. That’s why I even put some efforts in decorating the stage with marigolds. They say marigolds will guide the spirits to their altars with their scent and colour.”

“So, your mother is there, too?”

“I guess,” he shrugs. “I’d like to believe that she’s with me on the stage, watching me perform in front of the audience.” He takes a sip on his hot green tea before he adds, “I personally think that believing in such things help me gain some confidence.”

“You don’t feel like you deceive yourself?”

“No, because I have faith in it.” He takes another sip. “You see, Jaemin, belief is such a powerful tool to enhance yourself in any aspects. You can do everything if you believe.”

Jaemin nods and smiles.

Turns out Renjun’s mind is as beautiful as his appearance.

December 2019; The Bee Among The Flowers

Ever since Jaemin agreed to tell Renjun’s story to the world, they have been spending their free time together. Be it at a playground near Renjun’s house, at the studio where Jaemin works on his upcoming exhibition, at the streets, anywhere, really, Jaemin is always ready to snap Renjun’s pictures as he shows the photographer his new choreography. Sometimes he does ballet, some other times he performs contemporary dance, but currently he is into yangge. It’s a Chinese folk dance he learned when he was 5, and somehow, he wants to showcase his culture to the Korean. He is proud of his nationality, and Jaemin finds him adorable whenever he talks about his culture.

They are currently in the middle of a snowy park full of red camellias. Renjun performs some slow yangge moves that highlights the gracefulness of his arms as the camera focuses on him. Jaemin circles around him for the perfect shot as the dancer remains unbothered. His eyes are glued to his fingers, creating magic in the heavy snow. The fluorescent yellow shirt he wears under the thick black winter coat reminds Jaemin of a bee, but a beautiful one. The one that outshines the flowers, that catches people’s attention with its vibrant colour.

“Are the shots good? Or do I have to perform them again?” Renjun rubs both of his hands together, creating some heat to keep his bare hands warm. “It’s freezing though,” he says as a matter of fact before he coughs a few times.

Jaemin checks the photographs he took and grins. “They’re perfect,” he ruffles Renjun’s hair. “Let’s get something to eat and you can view the pictures in the meantime. I’m unoccupied today. My day is all yours today, Your Majesty.”

Renjun scoffs at how Jaemin uses his unfunny joke during their first meeting but he doesn’t complain.

Their friendship develops over time, and they get even closer when they know they are of the same age. While Renjun is a little too friendly and talkative, Jaemin is the opposite. The taller man always takes his time to speak, as if he is contemplating the right things to say in a situation. And fair enough, he always says the right things. For example, when Renjun feels like his moves are not smooth enough, Jaemin will always say he does great, if not amazing. And to prove his statement, he will always show his pictures.

“Pictures don’t lie,” Jaemin always says.

Renjun often notices the way Jaemin observes his pictures to the smallest details to finally call them a perfection. And he is true – they are all perfect. They never fail to put Renjun in a complete awe, no matter how many times he sees Jaemin’s work. But Jaemin is much more than a skilled photographer. He is passionate in what he does despite confessing that he doesn’t have a specific goal in life. He is committed to his work. And the most important thing is that he is a cute ball of sunshine that lights up Renjun’s life when things get hard.

Perhaps Renjun is attracted to the new things he discovers about Jaemin every day.

Jaemin, to Renjun, isn’t just a photographer.

He is the Sun among the dark clouds.

January 2020; The Confession

Each second is fleeting. Capture well the moments, they always say, because they are evanescent. They are temporary, while pictures keep them alive. Jaemin makes sure to bring his camera everywhere he goes, especially when he meets Renjun for fun. The thing about Renjun is that he is a wonderful model without having to try so hard. His pose, expression, and gaze – everything is perfect. He can easily be a world-class high-grossing model, if he’s taller. But Jaemin is glad he is not, because or else, he won’t be asking for Jaemin to tell his story.

“Perfect,” Jaemin breathes.

Renjun takes a good look at the recent picture and beams like a child. “You’re amazing!”

The picture highlights Renjun’s sharp side profile as he stares at the stars above them. Everything behind him is a blur, but the colourful lights of the city can still be seen. It feels as if he is among the stars, with the city becoming the galaxy in the picture.

“Let me take your picture,” Renjun looks up. “You always snap my pictures. And I think it’s such a shame that a person this good-looking doesn’t have photos of him in his camera.”

Jaemin giggles and shakes his head. “Nah, it’s okay.”

Renjun makes his puppy eyes and pouts. “Please…”

The next thing Jaemin knows, Renjun is already in between his arms as he teaches the settings to the shorter man. He only points out the important things such as focus before the Chinese pushes him away with a simple “I get this.”

Jaemin stands awkwardly, facing the camera. He plasters a small smile on his face which looks a little too forced to Renjun’s liking.

“Pose like a model, Mr. Photographer!” Renjun instructs.

Instead of listening to the direction, Jaemin looks even more awkward.

“Okay, let’s do it your way,” Renjun says under his breath before inhaling a large amount of air and raises his tone. “Na Jaemin, smile as if you’re seeing the most beautiful person in front of you.”

And it works.

Within a millisecond, Jaemin flashes his sweetest smile to the camera- or to be more specific, to the person behind the camera. He looks like Snowball from The Secret Life of Pets, but cuter.

Renjun clicks the snap button a few times, not wanting to miss the beautiful smile on Jaemin’s face. “There you go,” he hands Jaemin the camera. “Send me these pictures later, okay?”

Jaemin raises his eyebrow at the sentence.

“I deserve to have this masterpiece I took for you,” Renjun shrugs.

The night is calm when the clock strikes 1.30 in the morning. Both of them lie on the grass of the park in the middle of the city, eyes fixed on the ocean of stars above them.

“I’m glad I met you,” Renjun speaks, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “At least now I tick off one of my things-to-do-before-I-die.”

“And what is that?” Jaemin turns his head right and lands his eyes on Renjun’s pretty face.

“To have someone tell my story,” the Chinese answers. “I was thinking of a writer, actually. An autobiography about me? Hahaha…” he laughs at the thought. “But I’m no one compared to the billions of people in the world. I’m just a dancer who is yet to run a dance academy. I’m all alone in this world, without a permanent job.” He squints his eyes. “Oh my God, how sad is that?!” Renjun dramatically cries, jolting upwards. “Now I sound pathetic.”

Jaemin giggles at the sight. “No, you’re not.” Jaemin doesn’t continue his sentence right after, which makes Renjun think as if he’s lying. The truth is the man is contemplating whether he should confess all the truths his heart sees or not. But he doesn’t want to be taken differently.

“You’re an aspiring dancer, if you ask me,” Jaemin finally says after a few moments of silence. He props himself up and sits. “I think you’re an amazing painter as well.”

Renjun makes a surprised face at how the taller man suddenly mentions his hobby, only to realize that he means something else.

“You paint galaxy and life with your movements so effortlessly. I find that amazing.”

The dancer coughs. “I did put a lot of efforts in dancing, in case you don’t notice it.” He coughs again. “But… thank you. I’m honoured you see it that way.”

Jaemin nods, eyes pinned on Renjun. With the snow falling on his face, he looks ethereal, even when he’s laying still. Jaemin thinks Renjun is the most beautiful when he stares at something a little too long, as if he is immersed in his ocean of thoughts.

“I have something to tell you,” Renjun turns to his left and meets Jaemin’s dreamy eyes. “Promise me you won’t see me differently after this.”

Jaemin’s heart races. Adrenaline rushes throughout his whole body as he gulps, nodding slowly at the promise. His lips pursue tightly.

“I-“ Renjun coughs a little too hard. He fishes for his handkerchief in his pocket and covers his mouth. The moment the velvety piece of cloth is removed from his mouth, Jaemin sees a bright red spot tinted on it. It’s blood coming out of Renjun’s mouth from the rough cough.

Worry takes over Jaemin as Renjun continues coughing. He wheezes every time he breathes in more air and coughs. It’s not the weather anymore, Jaemin knows. It’s something else…

“I have oesophageal cancer.”

Jaemin tries to hide his surprised face, but he fails miserably.

“You promised me you won’t see me differently,” Renjun shakes his head.

In no time, Jaemin’s trembling hands pull Renjun into a tight embrace. When he is out of comforting words to tell, he hopes the sudden affection is enough to radiate some strength to the man. He caresses Renjun’s short hair gently, afraid if he’ll break with more force.

Later that night, Jaemin promises to let Renjun perform on his upcoming exhibition.

February 2020; The One That Shines

Photographs keep the expressions alive, but videos exist to keep the moments alive. While the simplest details are barely appreciated enough in videos, photographs come in handy in capturing a change of expression. Even though Jaemin prefers pictures over videos, he will not deny the fact that he will miss seeing Renjun’s graceful moves later when time steals him away. For such reasons, he hires a professional videographer to specifically record Renjun’s special performance on his exhibition. The video is for future purposes, just in case.

He wants to keep as many memories as possible with Renjun while he still has the chance.

“Do you think I’ll do well tonight? I haven’t been performing in front of a lot of people for a few months now… I’m a little nervous.” Renjun shakes his whole body, trying to ease off the rushing adrenaline throughout his body. “I mean, what if I mess up?”

“I know you’ll do amazing, Renjun,” Jaemin pats his back. “And you won’t mess up. But even if you do, I’m sure you’ll be able to recover from it in a speed of lightning.” He says from experience. He watched how Renjun never stopped dancing to the beats, even if he landed on the wrong position. He saw the passion in Renjun’s eyes through the mirrors surrounding the practice room. He knew how great the performance Renjun would deliver, because he is Huang Renjun, Jaemin’s favourite dancer in the whole world.

“And Renjun…” Jaemin breathes. “I believe in you.” He pulls the shorter man into a friendly hug. He can hear Renjun’s fast heartbeats, loud and clear in his ears. When they pull away, Jaemin stares right into the sea of stars in Renjun’s eyes and his lips form a small smile. “You can do everything if you believe.”

There is something magical in Jaemin’s words that Renjun can’t quite point out specifically. Perhaps it’s the way he means every single word he speaks, or perhaps it’s the way he is very straightforward with his choice of words. Either way, his words ignite a spark of hope and strength in Renjun’s heart.

“Thank you.”

To Renjun, those are not two common words. There are indefinite meanings behind them, and he means each and every one of them, whichever applies. The phrase holds significant values and Renjun hopes Jaemin understands the rich meanings behind it. He hopes Jaemin feels the sincerity from his fragile heart.

And Jaemin knows.

From the soft gaze that holds the galaxy, Jaemin knows Renjun means more than a simple ‘thank you’. It is ‘thank you for letting me have this golden opportunity before I die’. It is ‘thank you for making my wish come true’. And most importantly, it is ‘thank you for believing in me’.

“Now, go show off your talents to the world.”

As Renjun makes his way towards the centre of the gallery, the lights dim. Melancholic piano notes accompany his baby steps, alerting the visitors that a breath-taking performance is about to start very soon. With all eyes on him, he takes a deep breath and stands tall, feet pointed in the new ballet shoes Jaemin bought for him. He starts with pirouette before he turns his whole body elegantly in a series of chains and jumps with a perfect 180 degrees split, arms spread like a butterfly’s wings. After he lands on the marble floor, he extends his left foot forward to perform a pique, followed by a beautiful arabesque. He repeats the steps several times. And each time, Jaemin swears a new star is painted on the galaxy. He then performs some versatile fouettés, dropping some jaws from the audience. Each turn is on beat, and Jaemin thinks it is unfair how Renjun is not listed among the wonders in the world. When the dancer ends his 7-minute routine with saut de chat, a big round of applause echoes through the four walls of the exhibition gallery.

Renjun finds Jaemin with his camera from the corner of his right eye and he turns his head, meeting the lovely gaze the photographer sends him. Jaemin shows a proud thumbs up as he mouths, “You did great.”

Renjun shines the brightest when he dances, and it shows. He outshines everything, including all Jaemin’s masterpieces hung on the walls. He stands out in the most beautiful way possible because he believes, because he has Jaemin’s unbreakable faith in him.

And that is simply why Jaemin is the Sun.

March 2020; Of Life, Goals, And Death

While photographs keep the moment frozen, time passes by. As if it has the wings of an eagle, it flies so fast. With Jaemin being busy editing the countless pictures of Renjun he took for the past five months, chasing the unknown deadline, Renjun spends most of his time in the hospital. From chemotherapy, to surgery, to chemotherapy again, the man is doing his very best to survive. He will survive. He believes, and Jaemin believes too.

Sometimes, however, things get rough.

As the coughs worsen, burning his dry throat, he wishes he can cut off his oesophagus. He suffers every second of the day, hopes crushed, replaced by a silent plea to die. The pills kill him inside more than he can remember, but at the end of the day, a video call from Jaemin helps pick up the shattered pieces of hope and faith.

“I’m sorry I can’t visit you again today.” Low, Jaemin’s voice is, filled with a lace of regrets. He takes off the hat he is wearing, revealing his messy hair. “In case you need to hear this for the thousandth time, I miss you.”

A small smile appears on Renjun’s pale face.

“By the way, I’m half-way done with your photographs!” the Korean beams. His tired eyes light up with rays of excitement. The dark circles under his eyes become apparent every day, but he reassures Renjun that he is getting enough sleep. Renjun notices he is wearing the same blue shirt he wore yesterday, but he is feels guilty to point that out. The thing is he feels like a burden because he knows Jaemin is working extra hard to make his wish a reality.

“Why do you put yourself into so much trouble for me?” Renjun manages to say, voice cracks here and there. “Just forget it, please. I don’t deserve your time.”

Jaemin pouts. “You deserve the whole universe, Renjun. You truly do.” Jaemin places his phone against his monitor as he pushes his chair backwards, grabbing something from the corner of his studio.

“Look,” he shows a printed picture of Renjun during his graduation performance to the screen.

In the photograph, Renjun extends his right arm above his head, chin tilted. The passionate desperate eyes make him look as if he longs for something he cannot reach. The spotlight on him adds the dramatic effect to the picture. Before he knows it, Jaemin states that it seems as if he is reaching for the Sun.

It is amusing how Jaemin puts it in a way Renjun has always felt about him.

“It’s one of my favourites,” Jaemin flashes him a smile. “I miss seeing you dance.”

Renjun looks away. Tears well in his eyes at the sentence because truth be told, he misses dancing too. He misses the way his mind brings him to travel to a fantasy world whenever he listens to the beats. He misses the sweats that sometimes stick his bangs to his forehead. He misses the endorphin he experiences after every successful routine. He misses the round of applause he always receives from the audience. And most importantly, he misses the amazed grin on Jaemin’s face as he hides behind the lens.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.”

Renjun’s tears fall upon Jaemin’s apology. He quickly wipes them away with the hem of the sleeve. “You never have to apologize, Jaemin,” he replies, facing the camera.

Oh God, he misses seeing Jaemin face-to-face.

“Will you put that on hold?” Renjun suddenly asks.

“Why would I?” Jaemin shakes his head. “Look, Renjun, we’re on a deadline.” His eyes mirror his fear, lips tremble. “I- I know you’ll survive…” he pauses. “But just in case…” Jaemin blinks a few times. “I’d like to do what I can to make you happy.”

“Spend time with me.” It is more of an instruction compared to a suggestion. “It hurts like hell right now. Everything is overwhelming. At least, if I have you by my side, I think the chances for me to survive will increase.”

Jaemin stares at the camera for a good minute before he nods.

“As you wish, butterfly.

May 2020; A Beautiful Transition

Renjun reminds Jaemin of butterfly metamorphosis, except that after the fourth stage, it turns into an angel. Jaemin doesn’t think the Chinese suits to be a caterpillar, because he resembles a butterfly already. But a caterpillar will have to digest itself to transform into a more beautiful version of itself.

In other words, it requires suffering for one to truly transform into a better shape.

With the chemotherapy and all, Renjun is now too weak for the world. His tiny build seems even smaller. He looks barely alive, except for his dreamy eyes. They hold a thousand messages Renjun wishes to tell Jaemin, but too bad they will be buried together with him.

Jaemin can see it coming. From the weaken grip of cold bony hand he’s holding to the forced heavy breathing that’s getting slower at rate, he can see it coming clearly. The end is near, he can sense it. “It’s okay…” He whispers under his breath. “It’s okay…” For some unknown reasons, only the two words are able to roll off his tongue. Perhaps those are the words Renjun needs the most at times like this. Perhaps he needs to know that it’s okay for him to leave Jaemin now, that the brown-haired man will be doing fine after a few days, weeks, months, or years. Perhaps it’s just Jaemin who’s running out of words because his mind can’t process what’s about to happen. He can see it coming, but he can’t see it happening so… slow.

The death he imagines is quick and easy – the kind of death that happens in a blink of an eye and before you know it, he’s gone. He never imagines he will be able to witness the pain Renjun has to bear when his soul is leaving his body. He never imagines he will get to listen to the wheezes of the forced air into Renjun’s failing lungs.

“It’s okay…” he says again, with a small smile masking his fear. “Don’t worry.”

The look in Renjun’s eyes softens as they fall onto Jaemin’s worried face. The older man gathers all his strength to reply the smile before his eyelids shut on their own. His breathing shags. His fingers, however, search for Jaemin's. The Korean intertwines their fingers at the cue as a wave of sorrow hits him at how their fingers are of the perfect fit for each other.

“I’ll be fine…” Jaemin speaks through the lump in his throat. The rawness of his voice is apparent. “I’ll hold the exhibition. I’ll tell the world your story.” he exhales. “I won’t let you die.” The hot crystals welling in his eyes fall like a stream, each drop hits their intertwined fingers. “I’m sorry,” Jaemin wipes the tears away with the back of his other hand, “I don’t mean to cry. I don’t mean to make you worried. I’m sorry.”

The grip tightens a little, as if Renjun is telling him that it’s okay.

“I know,” Jaemin creeps a smile, “We’ll be fine.” The man leans forward and presses his lips gently on Renjun’s forehead. “You can go now,” he whispers with a heavy heart. “Go to a beautiful place where you’ll re-join the troop of angels, the place where you truly belong.” Another peck is left on his nose. “I love you, butterfly.” And finally, he places the softest last peck on Renjun’s chapped lips. “Till we meet again, my dancing angel. I love you.”

As if it’s a cue, Renjun takes a sharp breath with a sudden jolt.

On 30th May 2020, 3.14 in the morning, an angel spreads its wings to make its most-awaited way towards heaven.

1st November 2020; Gallery Of The Fading Ones

Na Jaemin is an award-winning storyteller; except he replaces his voice with stilled photographs. The beauty that takes his breath away, the feelings he experiences from behind the lens – they are all being described in a series of printed pictures under the exclusive frames with small clumps of marigolds on all four corners. The golden colour of the frames fades gradually, coupled with the dimming lights with each section of the exhibition. On the last section, the petals of marigold fall off as the frames turn cream under the warm orange hue. It is the whole concept of the exhibition – The Fading Ones.

“Why ‘The Fading Ones’? Can you please elaborate?” The famous reporter with the tagline “Haechan, 37.5% viewers rating” asks, holding out the microphone right in front of Jaemin’s chin.

Jaemin pauses for a while. His eyes are glued to the electronic device he calls friend in front him, mind processing the rehearsed sentences to this expected question. “Ah…” He lets out a disappointed sigh. The words he prepared the night before are too formal, he realizes now.

The reporter notices the beads of cold sweats under the half swiped up bangs of the photographer. He then gestures at the cameraman to put the camera off. “It’s okay. Take your time,” he ends the sentence with a small laugh. “It has been what? Almost 9 months now? Since your last exhibition…” Haechan pats Jaemin’s back in a friendly manner, considering that he has been covering every photography exhibition Jaemin showcases for the past 4 years.

“It’s not that, actually…”

The thing is the wound deepens more than his expectation. The immeasurable longing for the person who inspires him the concept leaves him breathless, as if a rock is pushing against his chest. The nights he spends tearing up over his loss are hard to describe with words.

“I— I just— Okay, let’s start again, shall we?”

Jaemin forces his face muscles to creep up a small smile as Jeno, the cameraman, sets up the camera once again. He shakes his whole body slightly, loosening up the string of tension around his 177 cm figure. Haechan checks on his condition one last time and as he exhales deeply with a nod, the camera starts rolling.

“Hi, everyone! Welcome to Haechan’s corner with 37.5% viewers rating! And today, we are thrilled to show you this magnificent photography exhibition from the pride of South Korea, the one and only, my favourite photographer, Na Jaemin!”

The camera then zooms in to Jaemin’s face.

“I heard that the concept of this exhibition is The Fading Ones.”

Here it comes.

“Can you please elaborate a little bit about the concept? Why did you choose the concept? What inspired you? Or who inspired you?”

Jaemin’s lips feel dry. Once the microphone stops in front of his mouth, he throws his sanity away and stabs the bleeding imaginary wound in his heart. A name – that’s all it takes to break his inner strength down. Renjun; A simple Chinese name of two syllables rolls off his tongue smoothly. He emphasizes the ‘r’, pronouncing the name as if he is a native Mandarin speaker.

“Renjun…” he repeats after himself. “Renjun…” His tongue seems desperate to sound the name again. “The concept, the whole gallery, everything is inspired by him.” Jaemin steps aside, revealing the picture of a Chinese man in brown plaid shirt and black slack pants, right leg extending into the air, forming a complete split. His hands spread widely, giving off the image of a butterfly at first glance. His face hangs low opposite of the hospital tiles, but a hint of small smile can be seen on his reflection. It is the photograph that takes his breath away every single time. It is the photograph that introduces him to a magical world painted by Renjun. It is the photograph that holds all his luck in this world.

“The Fading Ones refer to the time limit we have in our lives,” Jaemin continues, eyes straight into the camera. “Just like how time fades away, we do, too.” His eyes steal a quick glance on the photograph of Renjun surrounded by flowers opposite of him. “But the right person will leave their footprints in our hearts forever, even if they fade away.”

Haechan’s eyes soften.

“Where is he now, if you don’t mind?”

Jaemin’s lips curl upwards slowly. His eyes glisten with crystals, which he tries so hard to blink them away. “Somewhere beautiful…” He manages to speak before the lump in his throat blocks his voice from coming out. “I’m pretty sure it’s a place surrounded by the stars and the galaxy, as he dances all day long until he’s exhausted. It’s a place where everyone will worship him for his talent.” The image of Renjun twirling comes across his mind. “In other words, I think he’s in heaven, being placed among the angels.”

Haechan pauses. He exchanges looks with Jeno before he turns to Jaemin and asks, “Any last words for Renjun? He might be watching you from above.”

Jaemin has a lot to say, but Renjun already knows everything. The Korean looks down. That is when he notices the petals of marigolds covering the whole floor of the exhibition. His heart stops for a second as a sudden wave of realization hits him hard.

“Dia de los Muertos…” he breathes. “It’s today, 1st of November.”

“I’m sorry?”

It’s Day of the Dead. With photographs of Renjun everywhere around the four walls of the exhibition, combined with the marigolds on the floor, Jaemin is sure he has summoned Renjun to this promised exhibition.

“Renjun is here with me today,” Jaemin’s face lights up. “Renjun…” he calls out, “Thank you.”

He hopes his photographs are enough to show that it is not just a simple ‘thank you’. Those two words hold thousands of significant meanings behind them, just like the pictures he took.

#jaemin #renjun #renmin #renjun imagines #jaemin imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream #renmin imagines #renjun scenarios #jaemin scenarios #nct dream scenarios

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sunnydhyuk · 4 years

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♡ my favourite writings ♡

i got this inspiration from an anon for my one-year anniversary! thank you so much for the suggestion, i literally wouldn’t be able to think of this lol ♡

the order in which i record these are from the 25th of feb 2019 until the most recent one ♡

haechan ♡ [15:54] • this was my first blurb and i think it’s really cute! haechan would totally do this; bet

kun ♡ [13:48] • i write lots of my blurbs based on my life, and this one happens to be it. it rained that day for the first time in a long time and this scene totally suits kun imo

johnny ♡ [23:22] • i would love to do this with someone on my life!! it’s super romantic and i had to write it for mr romantic man johnny seo

jisung ♡ [11:07] • me writing about my life once again……i would love for someone to encourage me to start driving like (y/n) for jisung

renjun ♡ [16:07] • me after failing my learner’s permit wanting to feel happy and stupid because of renjun (just so you know, i have my learner’s permit rn)

chanyeol ♡ [21:07] • writing this while chanyeol was at the event really put me through it

yangyang ♡ [15:22] • i love yangyang so much. i guarantee you he would do this, very cheeky boy

taeil ♡ [16:34] • some of my shorter, to-the-point blurbs. i really love this one just because of the idea that taeil misses me more than i miss him

hendery ♡ [18:53] • being hendery’s ‘home’ makes me so soft inside

jungkook ♡ [06:33] • this was written directly after i saw ed sheeran and i was on the city bus and i thought this scenario really suited jungkook + i changed it from concert to airport because i wanted hoseok to have the concert one, as you can see down there

hoseok ♡ [23:32] • as i said above, this was written after i saw ed sheeran, in the crowd i ended up holding my sister’s friend’s hand like this and it was really cute

chen ♡ [23:17] • this was written right after i read the lyrics of chen’s solo debut which i love, it’s one of my favourite songs ever and to think he has a pregnant wife-to-be and he was singing these sad songs for no reason because he was as happy as a clam

baekhyun ♡ [23:56] • just this thought. of doing this with anyone, let alone baekhyun, while i drift off to sleep.

ten ♡ [19:46] • i really love this blurb, dancing with ten, that’s it lol

yuta ♡ [09:05] • yuta, my king. making me breakfast and then breaking my kitchen? love that

sehun ♡ [20:43] • when i was organising my room, this blurb happened and i love it

jaehyun ♡ [16:55] • jaehyun playing with my hair when all he wants to do is m@ke 0ut with me *swoon*

taeyong ♡ [19:44] | mb • this blurb is so soft and then the mb i made on my shared mb account is so hawt i love my duality in content

jeno ♡ [15:23] • i love milkshakes and i love jeno and i love the fact that jeno would offer me the last sip of a shared milkshake

renjun ♡ [09:09] • a memory from 2013 lol……..walking to art class with my then crush in the rain..and i wrote about my ‘current’ crush, love that

chenle ♡ [19:42] • basketball player!chenle scoring a point in my honour i really enjoy that

hendery ♡ [01:22] • i suck at video games so this would totally happen and i wouldn’t mind if hendery beat me at video game

hendery ♡ [23:23] | requested mb • this is college bf!hendery at its finest

mark lee ♡ [01:27] | requested mb • this mb really makes me soft and it’s so cute

jisung ♡ [10:32] • another shy!jisung blurb, this is really cute, the fact that i could hypothetically make him blush makes me blush uwu

winwin ♡ [16:32] • i gave my friend a framed picture of us and our friend group so i love this angst

johnny ♡ [23:07] • this is my first long blurb and the fact that it’s about serpent!johnny and just riverdale in general makes me live

lucas ♡ [18:49] • this was based on zach’s episode of 13rw and i’ve always thought of lucas as zach, you can see on my main/writing blog;)

jisung ♡ [22:07] | main blog • i enjoy all of my werewolf!nct content, and new beta!jisung and old beta!(y/n) is terribly cute

jaemin ♡ [18:58] | main blog • vampire!jaemin only being in love with (y/n) is sooooooo soft and suuuuuuuuuuuch a jaemin thing i swear

jaehyun ♡ [05:56] | main blog • werewolf!jaehyun coming to my house after a rough full moon? yes please jung jaehyun

haechan ♡ [11:31] | adobe’s 1000 • high school!haechan not letting me hold his hands in the hallway because he wants to tease me, another scenario that haechan would totally do

hendery ♡ [01:03] | adobe’s 1000 • i would give hendery all of my hoodies if he wanted to + i’ve put all of my hendery blurbs in this list wow i might love him

jisung ♡ [19:06] | adobe’s 1000 • i would totally play with jisung’s hair to calm him down, he’s big baby

haechan ♡ [23:11] | adobe’s 1000 • haechan losing to me - a person that can’t bowl? i really love that for me

taeyong ♡ [02:07] • baking christmas cookies with one of nct’s cooks is just so amazing and the fact that it’s taeyong is even better

mark lee ♡ [07:43] • written on nye, i feel like i woke up at this time as well and thought of this cute scenario!

haechan ♡ [02:12] • i took one of my prompts that i never got to use for my adobe’s 1000 and i absolutely love this

jungwoo ♡ [13:33] • my baby jungwoo is back so you know i had to write about him

here are my absolute favourites from this year, i hope that you enjoy these ones too (as well as my other ones lol, no offense to me but some don’t hit right for me, you feel).

thank you so much for spending this year with me, i love you all so much that enjoy the content that i post ♡

#1 year of sunnydhyuk #1yos #adobe's blurbs #nct blurbs #nct dream blurbs #nct 127 blurbs #exo blurbs #wayv blurbs #bts blurbs #super m blurbs #nct u blurbs #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #exo #bts #super m

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springday-aus · 4 years

Text

Current Works In Progress: As of 04-27-23

Moodboards:

More Disney Prince + Disney Inspired Moodboards!

Disney Princess series!

Uncontrollably Fond (Shotaro of NCT)

Boyfriend!Jin (BTS)

AUs:

Ramen Shop!AU with Wonho [Monsta X]

—

AU Series:

➢ Disney Prince!AU Series

Jackson as Shang [GOT7]

Hendery as Prince Eric [NCT/WayV]

Leo as The Beast [VIXX]

➢ Odd Summer Jobs!AU Series

Neighborhood Friendly Uber!AU with Mark [NCT]

Babysitter!AU with Mingi [ATEEZ]

Housecleaner!AU with Hwiyoung [SF9]

Car Washers!AU with Chenle and Jisung [NCT]

Drabbles:

➢ timestamps: rated m - nsfw

a special treat from San [ATEEZ]

soft morning moments with Jaehyun [NCT]

—

Fics:

➢ Series: Love, War & Everything Between - historical!au, arranged marriage!au with Yoon Jeonghan [Seventeen]

Plot Summary: Korea’s most distinguished military general arrives home, carrying back glory and honor from the war. However, the general has been revealed to be a woman! Due to all of your military accomplishments, by orders of the Empress, you are arranged to be married to the second-eldest prince, Yoon Jeonghan. Only one problem lies between you two: your reputation as a ruthless killing machine, which scares the living daylights out of your new husband.

Inspired by the Chinese drama, Oh My General [or General Above I Am Below]

part three has not been written and I do not know when the motivation will come

current writing status: 0%

➢ One-Shot: Uncontrollably Fond - college!au, friends to lovers!au, comedy and romance with Osaki Shotaro [NCT]

Plot Summary: Shotaro has recently joined your friend group and you instantly fell for him. Everyone, except for you, seemed to have noticed. So, you did what you typically do—unofficially adopt him as your new favorite son. How else are you supposed to explain your unconditional affections for him?

workshopped and planned

current writing status: 20%

➢ One-Shot: B*tch, I'm Solo - awkward meeting!au + strangers to lovers!au with Lee Know/Minho [Stray Kids]

Plot Summary: unlike what science may say, you actually enjoy spending time on your own. Call it introvertedness or anti-social tendencies, but you like going on self-dates (as you liked to name it). This ultimately means you are not equipped with the skills of how to deal with a hot guy who interrupted your solo-time, and yet, you find yourself enjoying his company more than you had thought.

currently being workshopped

current writing status: 0%

➢ Two Part Fic: How To Gain Immortality 101 - fantasy!au, grim reaper!au, historical!au, romance, comedy, and some angst with Lim Jaebum [GOT7]

Plot Summary [and writing prompt]: in the 15th century, Death asked you out. You rejected him. Furious and humiliated, he swore to never return for you. Six centuries later, you’re still alive.

planned - to be changed

➢ Two Part Fic: Plus Two - wedding date!au + office worker!au with Kim Namjoon [BTS]

Plot Summary: getting older is never easy, especially with all the weddings Namjoon has been starting to attend. Fortunately for him, a run in with an old friend of his, i.e. you, makes all these weddings a bit more bearable.

Inspired by the movie, Plus One

part two has been planned - might be changed

➢ Series: Goddess of Discord!AU - fantasy!au, immortal!au, romance and angst with Jung Hoseok [BTS]

Plot Summary: to be posted :)

➢ Mini Series: GOT7 as the Seven Sins - slice of life, comedy

Plot Summary: to be posted :)

#works #updates #admins #admin grandma #admin grandpa

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greennct · 5 years

Text

you in chenle’s camera lens

part 2 for the ‘chenle in your camera lens’ fansite!au, as requested by a lovely anon!! you can find part 1 here!! i actually really enjoyed writing this, even though I didn't originally plan for this to have a part two I'm actually super happy with it yay! hope you enjoy 💞💖💘

(warning!! sm is portrayed as a super nice/chill company in this au which we all know is not the case lmao so just to let everyone know before y’all get triggered this is a work of fiction!! hee hee)

3.4k words, angst-y i guess ??? but mostly just fluff!!

song rec: stop thinking (about me) by alfie templeman

it had been about a week since chenle had given you his number and surprise surprise, you still hadn’t worked up the courage to text him

to be honest, you were way too pressured to try and find something extremely witty to text him for your opening line, so it was taking you ages to actually work up the guts to send him a message

it was only after seeing a not-so-cryptic tweet from the nct dream twitter account (ah~ waiting for a text is hard, czennies! 💚), that you felt comfortable enough to actually send anything, knowing that chenle was waiting for you to break the silence

deciding against trying to be overly funny or flirtatious, just in case you managed to embarrass yourself as usual, you instead decided to send a picture of chenle doing one of his famous meme faces. it was one you had never posted online before, and were sure he would recognise to be taken by you. you followed it with a short hi!

for all your week of deliberating over how to start the conversation, you received a reply pretty much instantaneously

it was a whole stream of compliments on your photography skills,,,, and on you in general,,,,,

highlights included: “this belongs on the cover of time magazine,” and, “you put every other photographer throughout history to shame,” and even, “i’m making one of the ugliest faces known to humanity, but somehow you’ve made me look almost as cute as you do”

the banter between the two of you struck up easily, as you replied with a series of keyboard smashes, and soon enough, the two of you were pretty much texting constantly

each day, you woke up and went to sleep with a good morning and goodnight text from chenle. he was constantly asking how your day was, and sending memes at all hours of the night. it got to the point where you had to chide the boy to go to sleep, knowing he had to wake up at a ridiculous time the next day

chenle showed such a genuine and wholehearted interest in your life, always pressing you for the tiniest details about your day, simply because he wanted to know how you were

for example, the summer flew by, and you eventually started college, texting chenle all the while. to your utter delight, he turned out to be a godsend at helping to make sure that you could properly balance your education with your duties as a fansite

there were simple yet infinitely thoughtful things he did to try and help you organise everything, such as sending a quick message telling you it wasn’t worth skipping your afternoon lecture to attend a certain schedule, because they were already running a few hours, made your life so much easier, and made you appreciate him even more

and of course throughout this time, your crush on him grew and grew: how could it not?

however, you felt incredibly awkward with your emotions. you knew that chenle must reciprocate your feelings, at least to a certain extent, but you were extremely hesitant to confess

primarily, because of how awkward it would be to do so over text, but mostly because you were incredibly conscious of both yours and his reputation. after all, you had barely escaped been skinned alive the last time chenle had expressed a mild fondness towards your photos by certain fans

the sad but straightforward truth of the matter was, that a relationship with chenle was completely hopeless. nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from letting yourself indulge in daydreams where the two of you went on an endless stream cute coffee dates, uninterrupted by any of the drama that was your reality

and so, as autumn turned to winter, you found yourself stuck in a limbo, dutifully attending nct dream events as a fansite, vying for chenle’s attention like everyone else in the crowd, but then returning home to exchange flirty text messages with him all evening

and that’s how things stayed, for a while, until suddenly you received an incredibly unusual text from him

“this is a little last minute, but the photographer for our next comeback’s jacket photoshoot just cancelled on us, but we’ve got this whole warehouse rented out for tomorrow, so i recommended you to fill in!! can you make it? x”

you kind of blinked for a few seconds, just staring at the text, disbelieving of what chenle had just asked you do to

you then came to your senses, and quickly sent back a gushing paragraph, full of typos, to confirm that yes, you would love to take photos for nct dream’s new album

chenle immediately sent back a few details of the concept, some photos of the set and even a demo of the title track, in order to give you an idea of what was expected from you

you realised, with a small shiver down your spine, how much the boy must truly trust you, in order for him to expose so much about the comeback, knowing full well you could post it anywhere, but somehow confident that you weren’t going to

something about that small, get significant fact,,,, made your heart melt a little more for chenle

the next day you turn up at the address chenle gave you, pretty much scared shitless as you’re driven on a golf cart past countless grey warehouses until you reach the one labelled to be owned by sm

as soon as you walk in, you’re met with the title track blaring from every. corner, and a mixture of either sleepy of hyper boys wriggling around in makeup chairs

too shy to actually go up to the members before the formal shoot, you take a quick tour around the locations that you were about to be shooting in

you were incredibly nervous to get the photos right, as you were terrified of criticism from not only the company, but also all the nctzens you knew would scrutinise every photo for any indication of you somehow damaging the dreamies’ image

you heard your name being called behind you. spinning around, you were met with a beam so bright you felt it was ridiculous that chenle was so happy so early in the morning. you tried to keep up with the bright and amiable conversation he was attempting to initiate with you, however your nerves made sure you kept spacing out and glancing around nervously

however, you were suddenly shocked back into the present when chenle placed his hands on either side of your face, cupping your cheeks gently, and leaning his head down slightly to bring himself to eye level with you, lowering his voice

“you’re going to do great, you know. i didn’t recommend you just because you were cute, you’re insanely talented as well!” after the heart-stopping compliment, chenle immediately bounced off to go and touch up his makeup, whilst you were left, standing stock still with a goofy smile on your face, feeling as though every single one of your fears had suddenly been dissolved

before you knew it the shoot had started, and you slowly became more and more comfortable with directing the dreamies, as you realised that you were completely in your element. shouting a mixture of cues, jokes, and sly digs at the boys, you made sure to have nct dream in stitches of laughter in order to create the bright concept that their unit was known for

solo shots with the boys had you glad that the camera lens hid how flushed you were at the close proximity and casual conversation with each of the members. you were still surprised that they recognised you, some even greeting you by name before striking up an easygoing banter as you snapped away

of course, chenle seemed even more ethereal than any of the other boys to you, however you had to keep asking him to be serious, as he stuck firmly to his habit of making silly faces at the camera lens, meaning that his shoot was much longer than any of the other members’

before you knew it, you had collected all of the shots that sm wanted. they were going to edit and master them privately, but thanked you for your hard work with a large amount of praise from the staff members, and a cheque that had your eyes watering slightly as you left

“we’ll keep an eye on you, from now on.” a production manager had informed you on your way out, “you’re on our call list.”

and, to your surprise,,,,,,, you actually were

you ended becoming nct dream’s official unofficial press photographer whenever sm’s other employees were unable to make it

instead of chasing behind company cars for 1 good photo out of 100 blurry ones, you found yourself being allowed to roam freely backstage, capturing the nct members however you wished, so long as you flashed your sm employee ID

though you always made sure you were careful to stay as quiet and respectful as possible, however it wasn’t long before people started to notice your name being credited on official photos, and you were quickly seen to be legendary within the fansite community

when sm didn’t need you, and you followed nct unofficially, your friends would always tease you by oohing and aahing when you turned up, creating a space for you right at the front, as they claimed you were ‘nct dream’s favourite fansite’

it was embarrassing, but honestly,,, not nearly as bad as you thought the backlash was going to be. people commended you for your success, rather than being jealous of it, and therefore you allowed yourself to not only get used to,,,,, but also start to enjoy spending time as a press photographer

that was,,,,,,,,,,,,,, until one fateful inkigayo pre-recording

you see, spending so much more time with nct dream obviously meant that you spent so much more time with chenle

and boy, if you thought you liked him before, you were sure you were pretty much in love with him by now

effortlessly sweet, buying you an endless stream of drinks and snacks and always somehow full of energy, and up for a chat, the two of you grew closer and closer

you found yourself slipping into your daydreams much more often, as it was much easier to do whilst staring into chenle’s eyes

what’s more, chenle never stopped being flirty. admittedly, at times he was awkward and embarrassed by his bold words, however never enough to stop from showering you in compliments, and offering you his jacket at any and every opportunity

that day, you had been called in to shoot some candids of the pre-recording, and dutifully showed up at 3 in the morning, yawning as you waved your press badge at the security guard before being waved through

the hour or so you spent taking shots went by quickly, as it usually did, and you returned to the empty green room to start to pack up your camera equipment

suddenly, you heard heavy footsteps bolting into the room behind you. you turned to greet whoever had entered, when you found yourself barely inches from chenle’s face

he was ecsatic, blurting out something about how happy he was that the recording had gone so well, shimmering slightly from sweat, sunlight pouring out of his eyes

and you tried to focus on what he was saying,, but you couldn’t help yourself,,,, you leaned in, and pressed a kiss to his lips

the kiss itself only lasted a few seconds, more of a chaste peck than anything else, and you drew away quickly, shocked at your own actions

chenle started to follow your lips with his own instinctively, eye half-closed as he leaned in for a second kiss, before you let out a shocked gasp, and he opened his eyes wide in response

you had realised what you had done

not only was this probably the most unprofessional thing you had ever done, you were pretty sure that it was illegal, since you were certain he must have signed a contract that made him swear off dating

he started into your panicked eyes, confused as he saw tears well up in them

“i'm so sorry” you whispered, hardly daring to speak. you didn’t even let him finish the “why-” that started to escape from his mouth before grabbing your camera bag and basically sprinting out of the building

once confident that you were out of reach of chenle, you sunk against a back wall, head in your hands and heart racing as you realised what you had done

not only had you kissed chenle without asking if he wanted to, a detail you didn’t even think about at the time, but gnawed at your conscience now, you had completely violated the company’s unspoken trust that you would keep everything completely platonic between yourself and the members

your stomach sinking,,,, you realised this was probably the end of you working for sm

however chenle surprised you again by not speaking a word of your kiss to anyone at the company

though you never directly asked him, ignoring all of his increasingly frantic texts, you were called by sm multiple times in the upcoming months to fill in for various photographers

however, you could not bring yourself to face chenle after the incident, and turned each and every offer down

it took a few weeks for sm to realise that you suddenly weren’t photographing nct dream anymore, as you longer turned up as a fansite either, however they never asked you for an explanation as to why

eventually, the calls from sm,,,,, and the texts from chenle,,,, just stopped

after just over a month of this radio silence, you received a call from sm, asking you to photograph red velvet instead of nct during their final practice before their comeback

though you didn’t know the group very well, you admired red velvet, and had always liked listening to their songs. therefore, you convinced yourself that since it was very unlikely that you would actually have to bump into chenle since the appointment was scheduled so late, it would be okay to take the job

besides, you were a broke college student who needed that coin to live lmao

and so, the next week you snuck into the main company building at around 11:30, following signs to open the door the practice room you had been told you were needed in,,,, but upon entering you froze in shock. this was not what you had been prepared for at all

the room did not have any members of red velvet in it, instead, it was completely empty,,,,, apart from the one person you had been trying so hard to avoid these past few months

chenle stood in the centre of the room, immediately walking over to you when he saw your figure in the doorframe

the lights were slightly dimmed, and a lone scented candle was lit next to the stereo in what looked like an attempt to set a romantic mood, along with some kind of slow, 60s love song

in other words, you were in trouble

“chenle, i-” you started to protest, to apologise, to do something to at least to try and salvage the situation, and not let your heart get broken, however you were silenced by the boy stepping forwards slightly, and taking your hand

speechless, you simply let chenle gently tug you into his chest, snaking his left arm around your waist as he swayed you gently to the rhythm

,,,,,you were incredibly confused, to say the least

after weeks of you determinedly and successfully avoiding chenle, here you were, lured into a room with the very person you were sure sm would want to keep you away from, and, without any kind of explantation,,,,, he had started to slow dance with you

eventually, chenle murmured “why did you run away?” and you stayed silent, wondering what you were going to say. you were in such a state of shock at such a dramatic turn of events that you weren't exactly sure what you were supposed to say

“you know we can't do this, chenle,,,” you trailed off, unsure of how to handle the situation

“why not? i really like you, and i'm pretty sure you like me to, what with the whole kiss n’ all, so what’s stopping you?”

“your company, chenle!” you protested, voice still small and scared, looking up at him with watery eyes “they won’t allow it!”

chenle stopped swaying and looked into your eyes with a face filled with disbelief “you’re an idiot.”

“excuse me?!” you frowned, bewildered by his sudden change in attitude

“the company don't give a monkey’s ass, so long as i'm working!”

“b-but,, your contract,,?” you questioned

“there’s never been anything about dating in there, that’s just a stupid rumour. i'm pretty sure half the staff members have been taking bets on how long it would take us to get together, since it’s so damn obvious how much i like you!”

you literally almost slapped yourself. from all of your hours and hours spent arguing with yourself about how wrong it was to like chenle, the sudden realisation that not only were your feelings completely accepted, but also reciprocated, was almost too much for you to handle

you found yourself giggling hysterically, leaning into chenle’s chest for support as you buried your face in his t-shirt

“i'm so stupid!” you practically wheezed, finally looking back at chenle, the laughter dying in your throat as you caught him looking at you with such tenderness, and a fondness behind his eyes that you couldn’t quite describe

“can i kiss you?” he murmured, tilting your chin upwards with his fingertips

you closed the gap between the two of you instantly, feeling chenle smile through the kiss at your eagerness

as you sighed slightly into his lips, something told you,,,, you were going to enjoy your photography gigs at sm a lot more from now on

and now,,, here you were, about a month after that eventful evening, clicking, with shaking hands, on the latest upload to the nct dream youtube channel

it was a short video, only about three minutes long, and depicted a compilation of clips set to music

you couldn’t help but gasp as your name popped up in the first few seconds, crediting you as the person who had filmed the entire video, and barely let your breath go as the video continued

the shots showed chenle going on a series of adventures all around seoul: walking along the han river, trying on increasingly goofy outfits in a thrift shop, mucking around in convenience stores,

then, chenle eating a plethora of different meals, feeding a bite of his food multiple times to the camera jokingly

chenle holding out a bunch of flowers to the lens, with a blush that matched the bright pink roses

chenle turning his phone around, face full of laughter, to show the camera a barely blurred out photo of renjun

and finally,,,, chenle taking the camera and turning it around, so that every single person watching the video could see, that the whole time that the video had been filmed,,,,,, he had been on dates with you

a tiny handwritten note popped up at the end “please support us!! i love them a lot, & i know my czennies will as well! get ready for lots more couple content soon hehehe :) love, chenle 💚💚”

you sighed contentedly, finally loosening your tight grip on chenle’s hand as you scrolled through the comment section

there was nothing but well-wishers, shipping accounts already started, fans boasting about their predictions of the fact you two were in relationship months before the video was released

“i knew they’d love you” chenle beamed, resting his head on your shoulder as he yawned sleepily - the two of you had curled up on your dorm room couch to wait for the video to be released

you didn’t say anything, softly running your fingers through his hair instead. you didn’t need to, you knew he understood how happy you were, purely from your contented silence

after all, you had a camera, an adorable boyfriend, and a small army of people incredibly invested in your relationship - what more could you need?

#chenle #zhong chenle #nct dream chenle #nct chenle #chenle fluff #nct #nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream au #nct dream fic #chenle au #chenle fic #nct fic recs #writings #nct fluff

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