#so aha.... not the dystopian au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

line without a hook.

mingi x reader; lovers to strangers au

word count: 13k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death)

you could personally never understand one’s desire to run as far away from their hometown as they could.

maybe it’s because you’ve had the privilege of growing up in a beautiful, prosperous place, with cozy winters, amazing festivals and snowfalls on the frozen lake before spring came and melted it away.

maybe it’s because you have fond memories tied back to this picturesque place, shops and restaurants surrounding the lake in a way that almost seemed too magical to really exist.

you’ve met so many different people purely because of that sight, men and women of different cultures and backgrounds always so eager to take in your hometown’s natural beauty.

fortunately for you, the lake ran right through your yard and acted as a place of solace where you could get away from everything in the busy, touristy town.

a place you went when you were feeling happy, sad, angry or when, truthfully, you didn’t know how to feel.

it’s also where you first met your boyfriend, one of the many come and go visitors, who introduced himself as mingi.

except he had walked right through your backyard like he owned the place, a small smile on his handsome face as he took in the sight of the frozen water.

he looked at it with such wonder and fascination, like he’d never seen anything like it before in his life; and you can remember that night, even with how you’re feeling right now, that he looked at you the same way.

it’s the only thing that reminds you, at some point, you two must have really loved each other.

two years ago - december 13th

you were hunched over your desk finishing the last of your final essay, only a page left before you could throw every syllabus away and rejoice at having two months of winter break.

it was a chilly night but you couldn’t help but be outside on the porch, a big warm sweater and fuzzy socks on as you read over your work so far.

you’d gotten used to the sounds of nature, the chirping of birds, pitter patter of animal feet and even the loud, slightly terrifying barks of deer.

but the footsteps crunching on the leaves in your driveway definitely weren’t those of chipmunks or rabbits, your strained neck craning over to see a tall figure walking right past your porch and deep into your backyard.

strangely enough, whether it be the frigid temperatures getting to you or the stress of finishing this paper, you weren’t panicked; the man technically wasn’t even on your property, he was right outside of it along the grass that turned to decking.

so you continued to make revisions and edit your paper silently, your eyes fluttering up ever so often to check on the mysterious, tall figure. his shoulders were broad and his hair was messy, that much you could tell from your spot on the porch.

when five minutes past, then ten, then twenty, and he had still yet to move or realize he was in someone’s yard, you decided to investigate - because one, how long could he really stare at this frozen mass of water and two, your head was pounding from looking at this stupid document.

so without an ounce of fear or hesitation, you wrapped your sweater tighter around your body and made your way down to the man.

your slippers were loose so the last remaining bits of snow were seeping into your socks, a slight grimace on your face when the coldness touched your skin.

the sound of crunching snow caused him to turn around, his lips quirking up into a small smile when you came into view.

it was when you got closer that you saw just how attractive he was, pale skin that glowed, plump lips that were slightly chapped and messy hair that looked even better up close.

he looked different than most locals and tourists around here, many of them pastel wearing men who wouldn’t dare stick an earring in their skin.

but the man in front of you had a completely different vibe, earrings and chains and a gray t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest despite the freezing temperatures tonight.

a few minutes of silence pass, neither him nor you concerned about filling it; it seemed as if he could’ve stared at the lake just as long as you could’ve wondered why the hell he liked it so much.

“aren’t you cold?”

more silence passed and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear your blurted out question.

but then you discover he did when he looked at you with a smirk, the snow crackling underneath him as he shifts to take in your big sweater and pink slippers.

“no.”

it’s a short and simple response but his voice is somehow incredibly warm, looking at you with a twinge of soft light in his eyes before he opens his mouth again.

“why? are you?”

a confused smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head, looking over his bare (muscular) arms conspicuously.

“no. but i’m not wearing a t-shirt in december.”

he sends a smile your way, his large body turning allowing you to fully take in just how big he is. you feel incredibly small next to him and it should probably make you nervous - a large, stranger unwelcomed in your yard and staring down at you.

but there’s a weird sense of tranquility over both of you in this moment, the moon shining off the frozen lake as his gaze meets yours.

“well that’s a good thing,” he hums, your eyebrow quirking up before he continues. “because i don’t have a jacket to give you.”

a surprised chuckle leaves your mouth that has a smile spreading across your face and he feels his own doing the same at the sight of it.

“what makes you think i’d take a jacket from a stranger?”

his eyebrow raises after a few seconds of pondering the rhetorical question, his large hand suddenly coming between your bodies.

“my name’s mingi. i’m staying a few houses over at my aunt’s for the holidays.”

your lips purse together as you wrack your brain for which neighbor it could possibly be, remembering that the woman who brought you left over lasagna for thanksgiving mentioned her nephew was coming for christmas and new years.

she didn’t mention that her nephew looked like this or that he went onto the property of anyone he pleased.

“i’m y/n,” you say, taking your smaller hand in his cold one before a teasing smiles crosses your face. “and we’re actually standing in my backyard. so thank you for trespassing so politely, mingi.”

his eyes widen as an embarrassed look crosses his face, the small hint of pink on his cheeks just as endearing as it is humorous.

“i- i’m so sorry, oh, my god,” he chuckles out, your cold hands still intertwined. “my aunt said i could take the first road i saw to get to the lake. that there was a better view down here than from her house.”

and you can see in his eyes the exact moment his next sentence came into his mind, like he thought it was gonna be the smoothest and coolest thing he’d ever said.

“and it looks like she was right.”

the loud laugh that bubbles out of you is uncontrollable, mingi’s quickly following as his cheeks turn even more pink.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself,” he mumbles sheepishly, sounding completely unapologetic as he finally pulls his hand away from yours; you try not to think about how much colder your hand feels now, quickly sticking it in the pocket of your sweater to compensate.

“right,” you quip, a tiny giggle leaving you as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. “but really, you should probably get a jacket if you’re gonna be out here a lot. you don’t wanna get sick and it can get pretty cold here.”

“will do,” he hums, his eyes roaming yours and making your heart jump in your chest; he really is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen.

there’s a few beats of silence as he cranes his neck to look out at the lake, eyes roaming what seems like every piece of frozen ice and snowy tree surrounding it.

“my aunt actually told me people sometimes skate on it.”

“yeah,” you confirm with a nod, taking the time to look at the beauty you take for granted every day. “it’s thick enough this year. sometime we’re not allowed.”

“cool,” he says with a smile, a slight shiver running through him that makes you frown. “so... can i come back here to do that?” he asks, his eyes hopeful and soft as he looks at you. “or should i use the real path?”

your eyebrows pull together at his question, confusion covering your face but only meeting his cocky, playful one.

“are you asking if we can skate together?”

he bites down on his lip so he doesn’t smile larger, his tongue peeking out just before his teeth make contact.

“yeah,” he hums lowly, the deep tone of his voice sending butterflies through your stomach. “i guess i am.”

your lips quirk to the side as you weigh out the pros and cons.

you’re on your own a lot and definitely miss talking to someone.

he’s attractive and funny and seemingly nice enough.

you know his aunt and can easily confirm his story, the chances of him being a murderer who moseyed into town considerably low.

the only con you can think of is falling on your ass in front of him and even that it isn’t such a deal breaker.

so you smile at him and nod your head, a melodic “okay,” leaving your mouth that has him smiling back at you just as sweetly.

present day:

you knew going to this dinner with mingi was gonna end in disaster.

you were both too on edge after your fight this morning, past the point of screaming and yelling for hours that, now, you’ll exchange a few harsh words at each other before falling silent.

you’ve learned that the tense silence after a fight is worse than screaming and yelling.

at least with that, it seems as if there’s still some passion there. there’s words being exchanged and feelings coming to the surface that both people feel motivated enough to express.

but with the silence, you’re both bottling it up.

deeming it useless and letting it brew and brew and brew until one of you goes completely over the edge - and more often than not, that person is him.

the car ride over is no better, not even the radio playing to distract you both from the building tension in the air.

your friends know immediately that something is up, yunho eyeing mingi and san eyeing you; yunho, san, seonghwa, and wooyoung had been your friends since elementary school.

you’d been through a lot with them and have seen each other at all your highs and lows.

throughout your two-year relationship with mingi, him and yunho had grown especially close and it was sweet to see; you knew it was important for mingi to have another friend in a place he didn’t grow up in and you were genuinely happy they created a great friendship.

“hey guys!” wooyoung chirped happily, already chowing down on the chips and salsa in the middle of the table. “how is everyone?”

and like he’s almost oblivious to the tension in the room, mingi only mumbles a grumbled “fine,” before he starts happily babbling again. you try a little harder to put up on a happy front, giving wooyoung a small smile as you talk to him about your last semester of school.

as the dinner goes on, appetizers turning to meals and meals turning to alcohol, mingi downs sangria after sangria before he becomes a lot more chatty.

“oh, shit, there he is,” wooyoung smiles happily, a drunken flush to his face as he pokes his arm playfully. “you were scaring me for a hot second. looking all pissed off and shit.”

“that’s because i was pissed off. still am, if i’m being honest, woo,” mingi says, a conniving hint in his tone as he finishes the last of his drink.

your eyes immediately move to him and you’re quick to narrow them, hoping and praying he doesn’t start round two in this public restaurant right now; but apparently, that’s exactly what he plans on doing.

“what’s with the face, y/n?”

mingi spits your name out like it’s the last thing he wants to say, a quietly snapped “nothing,” leaving your mouth.

san and yunho look to each other immediately, concern on both their faces as they feel the tension start creeping back up.

they knew something was wrong the second you both came in, have known things have been off between you two for months, and it was even more obvious when you immediately took the seats a few spots away from each other.

“nothing?” he asks, his voice deep and gravely due to his anger and the alcohol. “because it sure looks like you wanna say something.”

“i don’t have anything to say to you.”

“you never do, do you, babe?” he asks, his humorless laugh and vindictive tone making your skin prickle.

“did you even miss me?”

your eyes meet his from across the table when he finally speaks, your eyebrow raising as you two stare at each other blankly.

he had left two nights ago after telling you he needed space, not hearing a word from him until he came barreling through the door just a few moments ago at seven a.m.

you’d just gotten up to make yourself coffee, plagued with worry and upset over your fight and his lack of communication.

“maybe if you looked at your phone, you’d know.”

because how could he think you wouldn’t miss him? how could he think you’re actually okay with him leaving after every fight? not hearing from him for a day or two while you stay in this apartment and let your mind go off into every worst case scenario.

a humorless laugh can only leave him as he shakes his head.

“of course you’re putting the blame back on me. i just can’t make you happy, can i, y/n?”

“you staying after a fight would make me happy. but of course, you can’t do that for me, can you?”

he doesn’t say anything and instead just clenches his jaw painfully tight.

you watch it tick dangerously and instead of feeling anger or sadness, you just feel utterly defeated; you don’t know how many times you guys have had this exact conversation.

a fight will happen.

he yells, you cry.

you just want him to see your tears and obvious pain and stop the yelling.

hold you and kiss your hair and mumble that you guys are gonna figure this out and get passed it.

he leaves, you stay silent.

he just wants you to fight for him a little.

call him out on his shit and prove to his insecure self that you still love and care for him, even though he’s a dick. ask him to please stay because he wants to figure this out and get passed it.

but then he comes back and you’re both okay for a bit, just for the cycle to repeat itself over and over.

“is that why you leave, mingi?” you speak again, looking at him curiously as you shake your head.

“make me sit here and worry about you for days, while you purposely ignore me, just so i can tell you i miss you? is that what you want?”

the words are on the tip of his tongue. that yes, that’s exactly what he wants from you.

but the words are also on the tip of your tongue. that you want his first instinct to be to stay. to stay here and talk things out with you before immediately jumping up to flee.

he wants you to tell him you miss him but you want him to tell you he loves you, that he loves you enough to stay when you guys fight; but right now, neither of you are even sure if that’s true anymore.

“i don’t know about y/n, you guys,” mingi says suddenly at dinner, the drunken slur to his voice evident to everyone. “i love her but sometimes.... i think i actually fucking hate her.”

you feel your heart sink when those words leave his mouth, your face dropping just as the boys call out his name roughly.

“mingi, what the fuck,” san growls from across the table; but the boy is completely unbothered, shrugging his broad shoulders as he looks directly at you.

“how ‘bout you, babe? how do you feel about me?” he asks, leaned back against his chair like he’s completely calm, cool and collected.

“i’m not having this discussion with you right now.”

“you never want to have this discussion,” he mocks, the anger and rage in his eyes only making your blood boil even more.

“i’m getting tired of it, y/n. i’m getting tired of all this shit.”

his voice is raising and you’re becoming increasingly embarrassed, knowing that the last place for this blowout fight is in front of your friends in a public setting.

“mingi, this really isn’t the place to-”

“shut up, yunho, we’re gonna finally-”

but you’re not intending on doing anything, already feeling humiliated and belittled as you get up from your seat and walk toward the door.

you leave your bag and jacket so the boys know you’re not leaving, hoping and praying that your drunk asshole of a boyfriend follows you outside; and sure enough, two minutes later, you smell his familiar cologne when the door opens.

neither of you say anything for the first few seconds, him leaned against the wall and you facing him with your hands on your hips.

“what’s your problem?”

it’s the first thing you think to ask, looking at him with such concern and defeat in your eyes.

you hope he can see it but you’re sure he can’t, far too absorbed in whatever he’s been going through for the past few months to notice.

“i don’t have a problem.”

“you obviously do,” you snap, your voice raising as you take a step closer to him.

“you just embarrassed me in front of everyone and you’re acting like a fucking child. we could’ve had this conversation at the house instead of not speaking for days.”

“why? so you could just turn shit around on me or ignore what i’m saying?” he snaps back, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you. “maybe we need an outside source to listen.”

“not our friends, mingi, and not at a public dinner when you’re getting drunk.”

“you always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he snaps, his jaw clenching and eyes flaring as he continues to peer down at you.

“and it’s always on me. when we tried to talk this morning, you blew me off, too, y/n. it’s like you don’t ever wanna have this discussion.”

“because i don’t know what you want me to say, mingi. how many times do i have to repeat myself and tell you i don’t know what you want from me?”

“have you ever thought that maybe that’s the fucking problem, y/n? that after all of this, you still don’t know what i want from you? are you fucking stupid?”

“are you fucking stupid?” you yell back, the suppressed anger and rage you knew was brewing boiling over right here and now.

“you want me to tell you that i miss you when you leave every other week, mingi? why would i tell someone that who could give a shit? i could tell you i miss you or that i’ll miss you and you’ll still fucking leave me.”

“how do you know?” he snaps, “you’ve never tried!”

“i’ve never tried?” you yelp, tears of frustration burning your eyes as you look at him.

“what’s me texting you when you leave like a little bitch every single time? or me obviously worrying when you pull that stupid shit over and over? i’ve been trying mingi and you don’t care! you leave me crying alone every single time!”

he meets your gaze with fire in his eyes and you can only stare back with tears in yours, waiting for him to scream something before he decides to kick over the metal garbage can a few feet away from you.

you watch as it clatters against the side walk, a loud, deep “fuck!” leaving him as you watch him blankly. his chest is heaving and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself right now but you also don’t know anymore.

because you’re shaking inside and out and feel like you wanna throw up, knowing that right now you both look like the worst type of couple; but it’s nothing compared to how you feel, how even though you don’t want to, you can’t stop yourself from acting out on these negative feelings.

“and if i never try, mingi, then just leave again,” you say, tears blurring your vision and a lump growing in your throat. “you can stay and come home with me tonight. or you can leave. at this point, i’m too tired to care.”

you weren’t surprised to go home alone that night.

watch as seonghwa and yunho helped your boyfriend to their car and promised that he’d be back in a few days; you were only able to sleep soundly that night because you knew he was safe with them.

but it didn’t stop you from crying yourself to sleep that night, the night after that and the night after that for the next week; the same would’ve probably happened the next night, too, at least for a little bit, had you not heard your front door open just after midnight.

you were getting in one last episode of your drama when mingi returned home, craning your neck back to see him lazily kicking off his shoes at the front door.

his head looked up to meet your gaze, the glow of the tv hitting him just enough to tell you he looked like shit.

he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was tousled messily, like he hadn’t washed it since you last saw him. his face was sunken and pale as if he’d been away in the wild for months opposed to his friend’s house for just a little over a week.

but when he’s away from you, this is what happens each and every time - he can’t sleep or eat or function properly.

he’s only plagued with the thought of you, memories running through his mind or constantly wondering what you’re doing. if you’re safe and feeling okay or if something bad is gonna happen to you because he’s not there.

the couch dips next to you before you feel his skin graze yours, a quietly mumbled “hey,” like he just came in from work casually spoken through the air.

you crane your neck up at him to look in his sunken eyes, an uncontrollable frown on your face as you swipe your finger across his purple skin.

it’s the softest touch he’s received in a week and he’s missed it more than he cares to admit. shutting his eyes and smiling slightly when he hears you mumble “hi” back.

you bask in each other’s comfort and warmth for the rest of the episode in silence, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wound tightly around you until the tv screen falls black.

you two walk into bed and he pulls you down with him, your head falling to his chest and his hands in your hair. you moan against him sleepily and it’s a sound he’s missed so dearly, tightening his hold on you as he feels his body immediately relax.

you’re both completely comfortable and at ease, days of worrying finally calmed as you’re beside one another again.

but even with this comfort, even with the familiar feel of each other’s skin and warmth soothing both of you, you know it won’t be enough.

because you still don’t say you missed him and he still doesn’t tell you he loves you.

a year and 11 months ago - january 10th

you weren’t sure if it was possible to fall in love in less than a month but it really felt as if you and mingi did.

from the moment you saw him two days after your initial meeting, skating together and braving the frozen lake together, your connection was immediate.

you’d spent everyday with each other, frolicking through the town in the afternoon before going back to your house at night.

you usually spent it cuddled up on the couch or making food in your kitchen, his arms wrapping around your waist before tossing you up on the counter playfully.

“you didn’t strike me as a chef,” you tell him, watching him stir a pot of noodles with a content look on his face.

“well, i didn’t strike you as a rapper either,” he says, a smirk on his face as a giggle leaves your mouth.

you learned that mingi was an aspiring rapper, him and his friend hongjoong trying to get their foot in the door for the past year. you listened to a few of their songs and even got a live performance from him, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you watched him.

in a fit of absolute astonishment, because you didn’t think mingi could get any more attractive, you blurted out that he didn’t seem like a rapper. that his personality was too “cute and charming” despite the deep growl to his raps and voice.

“i told you just personality wise,” you whine with a pout, reaching your hand out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “but appearance wise, absolutely. you’re very tough. very cool looking. i’m scared of you.”

“you’re making this a lot worse for yourself, baby,” he hums lowly, another giggle leaving your mouth as you bite down on your lip.

“did your friend hear back from that producer yet?” you ask him curiously, your legs criss-crossed as you sit on the counter and peer up at him.

he looks over to see you staring at him all wide-eyed and interested, a soft, happy glint in your gaze that makes his heart pull in his chest.

he hasn’t even known you for a month but he’s never been this happy before.

he’s never had anyone be there for him the way you’ve been, dedicating their time to him and being so actively interested and supportive of his decisions; it also doesn’t help that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both inside and out, that made him extend his trip a week longer.

he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to you yet and he’s still not sure if he can; he’s grown incredibly attached to you and it’s something he’s never felt before.

something all consuming and magical that’s making him incredibly vulnerable.

“not yet,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming your face.

your eyebrows pull together when you notice the way he’s looking at you, soft and sweet with a fondness that makes your heart flutter dangerously.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

a smile crosses his face as he lowers the heat on the stove, caging your body in and cocking his head to the side. he bites down on his lip when he sees your eyes widen, a large hand coming up to push pieces of hair out of your face.

“because i’m happy i met you.”

a small, touched smile pulls at your lips as you peer up at him, raising your own hand to smooth out the chain around his neck.

your fingers brush against his warm skin and it’s like there’s electricity coursing through both of you, your bodies close and hot breath wafting together.

“i’m happy i met you too, mingi.”

his heart soars at the way you say his name, eyes falling to your lips as he presses himself closer to you. you push yourself against the cabinets, swallowing the lump in your throat when you follow his gaze.

your tongue peeks out to lick over them unconsciously, your own eyes falling to his lips. you feel your stomach swoop dangerously, wanting so badly to feel them on yours - they’re one of the first things you noticed about him.

“y/n?”

“hm?” you hum, your eyes lingering on his mouth before hazily meeting his eyes; and there you see it, the soft intensity you’ve yet to grow used to.

you’ve seen this look from him more times than you can remember despite the short time you’ve known each other.

on the lake when you two were skating, grasping each other’s hands and giggling as you tried to keep yourselves from falling back.

in town when your hands bumped and you’d stop dead in your tracks to look at each other, completely unaware of the people around you giving each other knowing looks.

on the couch when you’d allow your head to rest on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him because the weather is really cold for january and you need body heat.

but it’s never been as strong as it now.

your heart’s never been beating this fast and you haven’t been able to feel his own pounding against his chest. probably because he was nervous to ask-

“can i kiss you?”

neither of you can remember what happened after he uttered those words.

just that one minute, he said it and the next, your mouths were connected. parting on one another’s as he completely caged your body with his.

your arms wound around his neck and he hummed contently against your mouth, slipping his tongue in when you started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

he had half the mind to turn off the stove before carrying you to the couch, your legs wound tightly around his waist as every hint of desire and want overtook you.

he plopped himself down as you situated yourself on his lap, lips never disconnecting. you moaned against him when you felt his body underneath yours, tongues colliding and mouths pulled into smiles.

his hands gripped onto your hips gently, pulling your body closer to his as your kisses grew hungrier and more intense.

you finally pulled apart for air with heaving chests and red, puffy lips, your eyes meeting and every hint of vulnerability and longing in them.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he finally says softly, almost whispering it in fear that someone else would hear.

but this house is empty. it always is and it has been for quite some time.

until you met him and he completely changed your life.

now there were two pairs of shoes at the door and two empty cups in the sink. there was someone to talk to and someone to be in the silence with.

because you’ve learned over this past month that even a silence with someone else is way better than the silence of being alone.

“me... me too,” you admit shyly, a warm blush creeping up on your face. “i’m... really, really happy you’re here, mingi.”

his eyes widen when he sees tears well up in your eyes, his mouth pulled into a frown as he brings his hands to your face.

but you only shake your head before he can comment on it, placing your hand atop his before connecting your lips again.

he meets the kiss with the fervor you need, everything about it soft and sweet and passionate. like you guys know time is running out and you need to fit it all in.

“that producer got back to me and wants to meet in person so you’ll be home next week, yeah?” hongjoong asked mingi over the phone, the boy laid out on his bed a few days later.

he can only keep replaying the memory of you in his mind, the tone of your voice and the teary look in your eye when you told him how happy you were that he’s been here.

there was a certain type of sadness behind you that he hasn’t been able to shake, making it incredibly hard for him to pick a day to just pack up his car and go.

“i... uh. i don’t know, yet.”

“what?” hongjoong asked.

him and mingi had been waiting to meet producers for months, getting either put on a list or straight up rejected. and now when they have a chance, “you don’t know yet?”

mingi licks over his lips as he hears the disbelief in his friend’s voice, knowing that hongjoong won’t be able to believe this. they’ve been waiting for this moment ever since they were in high school and had the dream of rapping as a duo.

he was only supposed to be here for a few days and now it was almost a month. what could possibly be keeping him there? what could possibly have made mingi-

“what could you possibly not know, mingi? we’ve been waiting for this moment for years. you even extended your trip for a bullshit reason thinking i’d really buy it.”

“okay but my aunt really did need help around the house...” he mumbles because yes, she needed help around the house as she redid her bathroom but she was quick to hire professionals so, technically not a lie.

“so what, what’s your excuse this time? did you meet some chick?”

there’s a silence that stretches over the phone for what feels like hours, mingi attempting to find any words before hongjoong lets out a loud groan.

“a girl? mingi, are you fucking kidding me?”

“i really like her, hongjoong,” mingi tells his friend, a sweet genuineness and innocence in his deep tone. “i really, really like her and i... i don’t think i can leave her yet.”

he reluctantly opens up to hongjoong about you, telling him that you’re in school and live alone in this quiet little lake town. that you and him have been spending every second together and he’s never felt this way about anyone before.

“i’m happy for you, man, i really am,” hongjoong says, never having heard his friend talk like this before. “but i mean... is she worth changing your plans? what the hell is there for you?”

he wants to say that you. you’re there.

the girl he’s known for less than a month but has gotten him so tight around her finger - and once he leaves, will still be here.

except she’ll be within the walls of her house all alone again, in a town based off people coming and going where she’s never seemed to have a stable relationship with anyone.

where she now knows what it’s like to spend every day with someone and look forward to their company every morning and night. spend hours talking until the sun rises and sleep until it’s dark out.

“i wouldn’t be changing my plans that much. i still have our music, hongjoong. we can still do shit even if i live here.”

“live there?!? hongjoong blurts out, “you’ve been there for a less than a month, dude, that’s fucking crazy. you’ve barely know her and you’re gonna move there?”

“i can’t leave her.”

he didn’t think at the time that it was crazy. he didn’t think he’d ever come to regret that decision because, at the time, he really couldn’t imagine leaving you.

he couldn’t picture himself hugging you goodbye and telling you that you’d keep in touch via texting and facetime.

he couldn’t picture going back home with a genuine smile on his face when it felt as if he left behind something, someone, would could make him the happiest he’s ever felt.

he couldn’t picture that he’d ever come to resent you because when he told you he was gonna consider staying in town longer, a bit more permanently, the smile that lit up your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“really?” you smile, jumping up from your spot on the couch and running over to him.

you’re so smiley and happy and bouncy until you’re not, your face dropping ever so slightly when you look over his face.

“but wait... what about the producer? did he ever answer?”

“he did. hongjoong’s meeting with him tomorrow.”

your eyes widen at the news but he’s quick to cut you off, bend down and press a long, lingering kiss to your lips before scooping you up into his arms.

“but i told him there was something better for me here.”

present day:

he wasn’t sure when the resentment started.

he just knew that, one minute he loved you, and the next, he started to question everything.

it could’ve been from seeing hongjoong’s success, album after album and talk of him all over social media right in his face every day.

it could’ve been his lack of success, pursuing a music degree via online school while still keeping up with his previously established career as a rapper; it was enough to get the bills paid and keep his name lingering around but that’s all it was now.

it could’ve been that all of his passion was gone and he blamed you for that; because if it weren’t for you, he’d be with hongjoong now. he’d be making money and feeling inspired and at the peak of his creativity and motivation.

but he loves you, right? he loves you more than he’s loved anyone in the world and he made the right decision.

“sometimes i question if i made the right decision.”

it was a relativity quiet night for you and mingi, the past few days calm and uneventful, so you knew a fight was bound to happen soon.

and with that statement, it seemed as if the night was quickly headed in that direction.

“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your textbook.

he was sat on the love seat opposite you, computer in his lap and a beer on the side table as he watched you. he’d been wordlessly watching you all night and you hadn’t been sure what to make of it.

now, you can see, he might’ve been watching you with disdain.

“i mean i sometimes wonder if i made the right decision in staying here. just... so quickly not accepting that producer’s offer with hongjoong’s.”

his words hurt you more than you let on, your stomach sinking and knotting as you let his words sink in.

you had asked him for weeks after he made that decision if he was sure.

if something he worked so hard on and something he looked forward to for so long was something was worth giving up.

and anytime you asked, he’d say the same thing.

“you’re worth it.”

you wonder now if he said it so many times to qualm your ever present worries or to convince himself. tell himself over and over again that, yes this girl is worth staying here and no, i won’t come to resent her.

it’s something you worried about in the beginning but faded with time.

because your love grew stronger and you both became more secure. your relationship was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced.

but not now.

now it’s a fucking disaster.

“where did that even come from?”

you can hear to your own ears how shaky and unsure your voice sounds. it’s filling you with as much shame as it does embarrassment, knowing that you can’t even talk to your own boyfriend openly and honestly.

without feeling upset, like you know you have to walk on eggshells or can’t express how much he’s been hurting you.

“i don’t know, i’ve just been thinking,” he hums, taking a swig of his beer as he adjusts himself on the couch.

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, only humming lowly as you nod your head.

you lick over your lips as you look back down uncomfortably, blankly staring at the words of your textbook. your brain can’t absorb any of the terms or phrases on the page, the sinking, awful feeling in your stomach taking over.

you can’t even remember how long you’ve felt like this.

when butterflies turned to this gut wrenching, awful feeling.

like the feeling before a plane takes off or you have a presentation to do or when the one person you’ve loved in this world has decided they don’t want you anymore.

“i stayed for you.”

the words you feared hearing pierce the air and you hold back a shaky breath, biting the inside of your cheek so harshly you’re hit with the metallic taste blood.

you look up and see his eyes narrowed in on you, tears burning the back of yours as you beg them not to fall.

because you can’t keep crying in front of him just for him to ignore you. to just watch you lose it with a blank look in his eyes, instead of holding you or attempting to soothe you.

“i couldn’t leave you alone in your house,” he begins, like the words he’s rationalizing in his head are coming out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“i wasn’t ready to leave you yet and i didn’t even think twice about how i would feel in the future. because i was so fucking consumed by you, y/n.”

there’s an obvious and palpable pain in his voice and it makes your gut wrench even more; you hate that he’s in pain but you’re in pain, too. you were in pain before him and now you’re in pain because of him.

“i’m still consumed by you but i feel...angry now. i feel so fucking angry, y/n, and i don’t know why. i don’t know if i’m mad at you or myself but i know i stayed for you. if i never met you, i never would’ve stayed here and now i feel like i’m stuck.”

“but i never asked you to stay, mingi,” you whimper out, the tears quickly coming to the surface.

they’re a mix of sadness and frustration, because it hurts so much hearing this, the obvious regret in his words, but it also makes you mad - that was his choice and his choice alone.

and it’s like he knows that too. because he doesn’t say anything in response, just continues to stare at you with a look in his eye that breaks your heart.

“i asked you so many times if you were okay with doing that,” you begin after moments of silence, your teary, wet gaze meeting his. “i asked you again and again because i knew you’d come to regret it.”

“i’m not saying i regret it, i’m just saying i-”

“you’re saying you stayed here for me like it’s my fault,” you say, shaking your head as tears leak from your eyes and down your cheek. “like i asked you to and like meeting me was your downfall. but i never told you to and i would’ve never ever expected you to.”

“what, so i was just supposed to leave you alone?” mingi growls lowly, emotion behind his tone that’s almost masked by the brashness.

he can’t help but feel all of this coming up, all of these feelings he’s been going through these past months and making him a completely different person.

“why would i have left you when i knew i loved you?”

neither of you focused on loved being past tense, probably because it’s a fact both of you know by now.

“i didn’t want anything else but you in that moment.”

“do you want a prize, mingi?” you snap, every defensive and defeated emotion coursing through your veins.

“you could’ve left me alone. you could’ve just left the way you wished you did so fucking badly. you would’ve saved yourself all of this obvious regret.”

“you think i regret staying with you?” he asks, his voice low and deep as he rises from the chair.

his frame is tall and broad and looming as he walks closer to you, standing over your chair as you sit there and stare up at him. his eyes roam your face and he follows the few tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands stiffly hanging at his sides.

he used to hate seeing you cry.

it used to make him wanna destroy whatever was hurting you. he used to kiss your tears away and wouldn’t let you leave his arms until you were smiling and laughing again.

“well, what do you call this?” you whimper quietly, sniffling and stuffy and feeling small tears stream down your face.

“you basically said if it weren’t for me, you’d be happier with your life. and i... i was so happy when you decided to stay, mingi, i’m not gonna lie to you. i was so happy because i knew we would love each other so much,” you whimper out, the knot in your throat making it difficult to speak.

“but i also knew that one day, you would probably regret it and resent me. it’s why i asked you over and over and over again. because i was so scared this was gonna happen.”

his mouth grows dry as he licks over his lips, a burning behind his eyes as he hears your voice break. he’s quick to shake his head and blink away the tears, though, because he knows if he starts crying, he’s never gonna stop.

“i thought you would leave with me eventually,” he’s finally able to get out, his throat clogged and voice gruff as he voices his innermost thoughts and wishes.

you compromised for him once, why wouldn’t you do it again?

“i thought if you actually loved me the way you claimed to, you’d be able to go.”

“well, i was always honest with you about that too,” you murmur, feeling utterly defeated and guilty as you meet mingi’s glossy eyes. “you know i never intend on leaving.”

a year and 5 months ago - june 19th

he learned about your parents accident on the 4th year anniversary of their death.

he had noticed that week you were especially gloomy, a sad look in your eye and the fake smile on your face making him cling to you just a bit more than usual.

and apparently, you had noticed too.

“mingi, are you okay?”

the words were muffled against his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as the two of you lay on the couch. his hand had been running up and down your back gently all night, like he’d been trying to calm you without any words.

like he knew there was something wrong, even though you hadn’t said a word.

his eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing his fingers under your chin. he lifts your face as his eyes search yours, that sad look behind them masked by a soft curiosity.

you’re trying to hide your pain because you think he’s hurting and that alone only makes him even more sad.

“of course i am, baby. but are you okay?”

you can’t find it in you to say yes so you only nod shyly, a small smile gracing your face as you look at him.

his eyes are full of such warmth and love that it makes tears prick behind your eyes, dropping your gaze quickly as you bury your face back in his chest.

the movement causes him to swallow nervously, adams apple bobbing as he presses his lips to the top of your head.

he knows something’s wrong. he knows something’s very wrong but he doesn’t know what happened or what’s brought this on.

“you can tell me anything,” he mumbles against your hair, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. “you know that, right?”

because he also noticed that you started seeming off when he mentioned moving in together, looking at apartments in town for himself before getting the idea to live with you.

you guys are already together all the time, it only made sense for you two to live together as well.

but he could tell immediately the idea unsettled you, you clutching desperately on to him as you muttered that you’d think about it.

at first, he would’ve assumed you didn’t wanna go that far with him. that it was too serious a commitment and you were completely uncomfortable with that.

but it was the way you were clinging to him, burying your face in his chest like you were begging him not to leave you that made him realize something deeper was going.

it’s why he dropped it at first. looked for apartments on his own with the idea that, best case scenario, you’d move in with him too.

could that be what’s wrong right now? you dealing with moving in with him and fears coming from that? or something else entirely?

he just knows that when he starts to hear you cry quietly into his chest, he needs to know what’s been wrong because he hates seeing you like this.

“hey, hey, hey,” his deep voice mumbles, large hands pulling you from his chest and wiping at your face. “what happened, baby? what’s wrong?”

and since you started crying about this, remembering the day and the circumstances around it so well, you won’t be able to stop. you can only continue to cry into him, tiny sobs wracking your body as you clutched onto him tightly.

“i... i can’t.”

you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t tell him, he wasn’t sure.

that’s why he shook his head and pulled you back into his chest, the warm safe place you’ve come to know so well and usually calmed you whenever you needed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong but i promise you’ll be okay,” you hear him mumble against your head, his hand running up and down your back gently. “i’ll try to help you in any way i can, baby, but i’m gonna need to know what’s wrong.”

but he can’t help you bring back your dead parents.

he can’t help you time travel the way you so desperately wish you could to tell yourself not to go on that senior trip.

that if you didn’t go, your parents never would’ve driven you to the airport and they never would’ve gotten in the car accident that took their life on the way back.

you’d spent a week in a foreign country while they spent a week in the hospital, your aunt and grandparents dealing with the repercussions before you came back and said your goodbyes in a dingy, hospital room.

mingi doesn’t know how long you both sat there in silence, your cries muffled against his chest and his arms wound tightly around you.

he loosened his hold immediately when he felt you try to pull away, watching as you stared at him, wiped your eyes and told him everything.

“my parents died four years ago, today.”

he watches with soft, sympathetic eyes and a breaking heart as you tell him about your guilt.

how if you just decided to stay home after weeks of begging them to go, they’d still be here.

“they didn’t have the money but i begged them for weeks, mingi,” you tell him, tears in your eyes and voice thick with emotion.

“i wanted to go so badly because all my friends were going and i was too selfish to see they really couldn’t afford it.”

he can tell you’re not done talking so he only presses his lips together and grasps your hand tightly. squeezes it reassuringly as his thumb gently rubs back and forth against your skin.

“they both worked overtime for two weeks straight and gave me the money the last day it was due. and i barely thanked them,” you remember, the scene you’ve replayed in your mind hundreds of times flashing yet again.

you jumped up from the couch and snatched the money from their hands, throwing your arms around them in a quick hug before screaming your thanks and running up to your room to tell your friends.

“a drunk diver hit them on their way home from the airport and the doctors couldn’t believe they both didn’t die on impact. a-and no one in my family could even call me so i said my goodbyes when i got home, in the hospital.”

you look to mingi with tears streaming down your cheeks and you see wetness in his own eyes, his hand grasping onto yours tight.

“i couldn’t even talk to them one last time. or hear their voices. i don’t even know if they heard me.”

your voice breaks off after that, not being able to handle recounting this after years of staying silent about it; he’s the first person you’ve talked to about this besides the counselor you saw a few months after their death.

he pulls you in his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, rocking you back and forth as he presses his lips to your head.

your eyes are closed tight as you focus on his breathing and soft murmurs. his deep, full voice muttering sweet nothings and quiet reassurances.

that your parents did hear you and they loved you till the end.

that it was no one’s fault but the driver who decided to get in a car after getting drunk.

that you shouldn’t put any blame on yourself, because your parents would want you to be happy and thriving.

“i know but it’s just hard,” you tell him, you teary face pulling away from his wet chest.

you look around the living room full of books and wooden furniture, a family portrait hung above a cluttered-filled desk; it was taken when you were ten and you remember hating that day because you had to wear an uncomfortable dress and tights.

“i don’t know how i’m ever gonna leave this place,” you voice aloud to him, one of the many concerns that muddled your mind when you started deciding on college or jobs or moving in with your perfect boyfriend of almost a year.

“it’s the last thing i have of them. i don’t... i don’t know if i’d be ever to leave this place, mingi.”

not after what happened last time.

not wanting to leave the house you grew up in to strangers who would create more happy memories and replace the ones you made with your own parents.

his face contorts into one of sympathy and pain, his heart breaking as the obvious guilt and dread is in your eyes.

he’d always seen a bit of torment behind them but you were always able to smile.

laugh with him and tease him and push whatever demons he knew you had aside; but he started seeing it again when he mentioned moving in, fear and anxiety and discomfort that he hated to even see behind your eyes.

“i don’t know how that will effect us, it’s something i’ve thought about a lot recently,” you confess quietly, playing with the edge of the blanket nervously. “especially when you mentioned us moving in together. i... i want to, so bad, because i love you and i think it’d be fun. but... i can’t leave.”

your tears start up again and a frown crosses mingi’s face, his body hovering over yours as he takes your face in his big hands.

he wipes at the tears threatening to slide down your cheeks before placing his lips on your head, breathing slowly and calmly against you as his warm breath wafts over you.

“baby, i understand completely, i really do,” he says, everything making sense now but... “but i don’t think your parents would want you to... limit your life like this.”

because you obviously had an interest in seeing the world. you obviously wanted to see different places and cultures and sights in the world that even your precious little town doesn’t hold.

but he can see tonight isn’t the night you’re gonna see that, if the way you shake your head and bury yourself back in his chest doesn’t show that.

and because he loved you more than anything else in the world, he understood it. held you and kissed you and made sure you knew he’d be by your side in whatever way you needed.

it was with his patience and love and unconditional support that you were able to live with him. keep your parents house as a sense of security but slowly move yourself out of it.

leaving a toothbrush at the apartment, a few sets of clothes, some shampoos and soaps until one night, you were waking up and falling asleep with him every morning and night.

present day:

the fight that ended you and mingi was over a trip to disney.

something meant to be so childish and fun and innocent morphing into a blowout, gut-wrenching fight that left the two of distraught.

hit both of you with the realization that whatever you once had had fizzled out and turned so horribly toxic, you were both losing yourselves.

it had started with yunho, san and wooyoung planning the trip, mingi over their house one day after the tension in the apartment got too much. he had scoffed when san mentioned it at first, wondering what business they had as college going twenty-somethings booking a trip to disney.

“it’ll be sweet!” san said, “we could go to the parks for a few days, everyone loves roller coasters! and then we can drive down to the beach, go surfing and go to bars and shit. it’d be so much fun, guys.”

and the more all of them thought about it, the more excited they got. looking at flights and car rentals and getting all their swim suits in order - that was until mingi came back home a day later and informed you of these plans.

“me and the guys were talking about booking a trip to disney,” was the first thing he said to you. not a hello or how are you or sorry for leaving and making you worry for a week.

“oh?” you hummed quietly, looking up from your spot at the kitchen sink; you’d made breakfast for two just in case he came home early but it was another serving of eggs and bacon in the trash.

“yeah, so is that something you’d wanna do?”

there’s something off about his tone that you immediately pick up on. snippy and on edge and defensive, like he’s already fully prepared to break out into a fight.

because he already knows you won’t do it. you won’t leave the 70 mile radius you’ve trapped yourself nor will you even try to go out of your comfort zone for him and you or anyone else.

and quite frankly, he’s grown really fucking sick of it. call him selfish or call him someone looking out for you, someone who knows this type of living isn’t normal, he can’t deal with it anymore.

“i... well i mean...how would we get there? and when?”

“we were looking at flights three weeks from now,” he says, carefully observing your face with slightly cold eyes. carefully waiting for the next hint of a breakdown he’s not gonna properly respond to.

you bite the inside of your cheek as panic starts to stir in your chest.

you haven’t been anywhere since the accident. you’ve gotten yourself so used to this environment that going anywhere else seems terrifying.

but you’ve seen how bad things will happen when you try to venture out. you left to do the same and it cost your parents your life - who’s to say you wouldn’t get your karma soon?

leave mingi without a girlfriend he doesn’t even care about anymore or your grandparents without a granddaughter you can’t help but feel they blame for their child’s death.

tears are quick to prick your eyes as you try to push down all of these feelings, looking down at the floor in a move mingi already knows is dismissive.

you hear him scoff and it sends a flurry of emotions through you, not even needing to lift your head to know he’s shaking his head.

“figures,” he hums lowly, making extra noise as he puts down his bag or plops down on the dining room chair. “i don’t know why i bothered asking.”

“mingi...” you begin breathlessly, guilt and shame and sorrow filling you.

“no, y/n.”

his voice is firm and hard and makes you meet his gaze, the look he’s throwing you icy and completely empty. he’s done and you’re done and there’s basically a ticking time bomb between you two.

“you didn’t even let me give you an answer.”

“because i know what it’s gonna be!” he roars, feeling stupid for getting excited when he knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to leave. “i know you’re gonna make up some bullshit excuse about school or work or money and you’re gonna say no.”

you can’t say anything because you know he’s right. but what he doesn’t know is that you’re trying. you try every day and every week and every month to push yourself out of your comfort zone and it just doesn’t work.

you’ve tried going away with him and you’ve tried expanding your horizons - you’e even moved out of your parents house to live with him. but it’s hard when you’re constantly reminded by the fact that your decisions ended a life.

while it was technically the drunk driver’s fault, your survivors guilt heavily outweighs that. intrusive thought after intrusive thought until you start to question why you’re even still here, too.

“i’m trying, mingi,” you say, your voice shaky and defeated. “i’m trying but you don’t even see that.”

“how are you trying?” he asks, watching your dejected form a few feet away from him. “you haven’t done anything different since you moved in with me. we’ve been living the same life for the past two years, y/n.”

but you just remember how patient he was when you first tried moving in. how he was so patient and kind and gentle and was everything you needed him to be.

but he can just remember how much he loved you. how patient and understanding he was, not fully grasping the severity of what happened to you and how incapable he was of dealing with it.

“i’m... so fucking sick of it. i’ve grown to be so sick of you and i hate that, y/n. i hate feeling like this but it’s the truth.”

“and you don’t think i am?” you blurt out, the dam of tears breaking as you hear him say those specific words to you - i’ve grown to be so sick of you.

your frame is smaller and fragile and you’re like a shell of the person you were when you first met as you make your way up to him, looking over him with all the pain and exhaustion in your eyes.

“you don’t think i’m sick of feeling this way? of seeing how much you obviously hate me and are over this when i can’t stop feeling this way? because i’m sorry it’s been inconveniencing you, mingi, but it’s been ruining me, too. sometimes i can’t even believe i’m still here.”

the last part of your sentence stirs something in him but he can only focus on your broken state. watching as you grow weaker and weaker because of him.

“you haven’t even been helping me,” you suddenly say, words quiet and soft-spoke but filled with an obvious hurt. “i... i don’t know why you’d even wanna go on a trip with me because we’d just fight, mingi. we’d just fight and i’d cry and you’d leave me. th-that’s what we keep doing.”

tears burn the back of his eyes, a knot growing in his stomach so big it feels like he’s about to puke.

“because i don’t know what to do anymore, y/n,” he say, his voice less harsh but still holding a certain degree of bite. “i tried so hard with you and nothing seems to work. i loved you, i still love you, and i was there for you and i tried so hard with you but... i don’t know how to help you.”

“you think yelling is the way? or leaving me is the way?” you laugh out manically, tears rolling down your face that you desperately try to reach out and wipe. “you’re sick of me but i’m sick of you, too. i’m sick of feeling this way and i’m so fucking sick of thinking you still love me.”

“you don’t think i love you?” he asks, rising from his chair and making his way over to you.

his looming height should make you nervous, the way he’s looking down at you and threatening to trap you against the counter should make you nervous, but it doesn’t.

because coming to terms with this right here is the worst part. the conversation you’ve been avoiding for months and the obvious change in what you two have become.

“i don’t,” you say, finally meeting his gaze and seeing hurt and anger swirl behind them. they used to hold such a sweet softness that would sometimes make you feel better, even if just for a little bit.

“because even if you do, you’re still sick of me, right?”

one year ago:

“what if you get sick of me?”

the newest compromise had been his family coming here to meet you.

you and mingi had booked refundable tickets for a week in his hometown, a part of you wanting to desperately prove you could do something for him. something that would make him happy and maybe prove you love him a little more than you can convey.

but the second you got on the highway to the airport, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to.

memories played through your mind of you in the backseat of your parents car, laughing and talking with them as you promised to be careful and take a lot of pictures with them.

hearing them tell you they loved you and were so happy you were able to go after all.

and then you’d looked to the other side and see in your mind a car hitting the other. spinning out and smacking into the divider as an eruption of fire, car parts and the chaotic screeching of breaks echoed through the air.

mingi had to pull over to calm you down, bring you back to the real world in the form of hugging you close to his body and his hand running through your hair.

“i’m- i’m sorry, mingi, i’m sorry, i-”

“sh, you don’t have to apologize, baby, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he hums against your head, pulling you over the console to rock you gently in his lap.

he was warm and broad and soft spoken and everything about him made you feel safe. you couldn’t grasp at the time how or why he was so understanding and sweet but you didn’t even wanna question it.

because he was the one thing in your life that made you feel okay. that you had him and he had you and there was nothing that could be that bad if you had each other still.

he didn’t let go of your hand once as pulled onto the highway, got off the exit and made his way back home.

he guided you back into the apartment and told you to go lay down and that he’d be there in a second.

he cancelled the flight and called his mom, telling her you guys got rained out and that, if it was okay, he’d pay for them to fly out here next week.

the bed dips a few moments later, broad strong arms wrapping around your waist before you’re pulled into his chest.

it was after a few silent minutes stretched between you two, the calming rise and fall of his chest against your back, your small voice pierced the air.

“i’m sorry, mingi.”

he could tell you were gonna cry before you even started, turning you in his arms as he pulled you closer to him.

“baby, i already told you you don’t have to-”

“but i do,” you cut him off, lower lip trembling and stomach knotting guiltily.

“i... i don’t think this is normal, mingi. i should be able to move on with my life and travel somewhere. i wanted to go so badly and meet your mom but i-” your voice breaks as tears fill your eyes and you try to catch the breath threatening to suffocate you.

“i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever,” you say quietly, looking up and meeting his soft, sweet gaze. “i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever and you’re gonna become tired of it.”

“baby... that’s never gonna happen,” he assures you, voice gentle but firm as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“and you’re not gonna be like this forever. we can get you help. and i can help you,” he says, his eyes looking into yours with such a raw honesty and love. “i... don’t really know how but i’ll do whatever it takes.”

“what if it’s not enough?” you ask, because at the time it’s like you knew just how bad this was gonna get. that even with as low as you felt then, it wasn’t even rock bottom.

“what if you get sick of me?”

“i won’t,” he reassures, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your head before settling you onto his chest carefully. “that’ll never happen because i love you, y/n. and i always will.”

present day:

in a turn of events, you were the one who left after that.

came right to the place you first met, except now the lake isn’t frozen over and the late-afternoon sun had just set.

his words were too harsh and reminded you too much of his broken promises.

you felt too weak and pathetic and completely hopeless, the tense silence so horribly loud between you two you left without a word; and he hadn’t said anything either.

and now, as you sit at the spot you’ve always come to and found solace in, you can feel why he was always so hurt when you didn’t ask him to stay. because even though you were fighting and even though you both hurt each other, you wanted him to ask you to stay.

to please not go because that would’ve been the last possible way for you both to see there was something still there - even though it’s plain to see there isn’t.

too many fights and too many words have been said. too many lapses of silence and too many unspoken thoughts that now when uttered are just hurting both of you.

you’re both too hurt and you both have too many things to sort through that you can’t do together.

one second you were staring down at the lake, your own broken reflection staring back as your feet hung in the water, and the next you couldn’t see. tears flooded your vision and sobs wracked through your body, loud, ugly, horrific sobs that you’ve been holding back for far too long.

you cry because you know it’s over with him, you know it’s been over for a while, but now it all feels real.

you cry because you know you need some help to get past all of the guilt you feel, how if you don’t get help, you’re never gonna leave this town and see what else is out there.

you cry because you don’t even know where to start and know, even though it hurts, you have to do it alone.

you’re so lost in your thoughts and the way your cries echo through the yard that you don’t hear footsteps approach you.

you don’t even know anyone’s behind you until someone bends down and pulls you into their broad, warm chest. a chest you know far too well and a body that hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever.

he knew you’d be here and he couldn’t stop his legs from jumping in the car and coming to see you after you left. half because he knew this had to happen and half because he was far too scared for you to be out here like this.

he knew what conversation was gonna follow but he knew had to hold you one last time. he missed holding you and he missed wiping your tears away.

“i don’t know what happened to us, mingi,” you whimper into his chest, the tears that have been building behind his eyes finally coming to the surface.

he doesn’t know what happened either. he doesn’t know when or where you guys went wrong or when you stopped talking to each other. he doesn’t know when he stopped loving you in such a way that was all consuming, where he knew he’d do anything and everything for you.

“i don’t... i don’t think this is working. i don’t know what to do but i know i can’t do this anymore.”

“i don’t know what happened either, baby,” he mumbles against your head, his words wobbly and wet as he tightens his hold on you. it feels as if every part of is heart is breaking, for the way he’s neglected you and the way your crying against him.

“i’m sorry i can’t help you. i wanted to so fucking badly but now... i just, i can’t, baby.”

you cry harder as you shake your head against him, feeling him plop down and pull you into his arms tighter.

it feels every bit as heartbreaking and upsetting as you both knew it’d be. it’s probably why you guys put it off for so long. because even though you feel the love you used to feel, you both know nothing will change.

he’ll resent you and you’ll resent him right back.

he’ll say he stayed for you and tried to help you and you’ll say you never asked him to do any of it.

you both sit there and cry and hold each other until the sky falls dark and air turns crisp, the moon reflecting off the lake in a way that hasn’t changed in two years.

but everything’s changed between you both and it’s too heartbreakingly obvious.

“i’ll miss you,” you mumbled to him.

because you know he’s gonna go on and do all the great things he’s wanted to. move out of this town and pursue whatever dreams he put off for you, the girl he once loved more than anything.

“i love you,” he confesses quietly against your head. “i really really did love you.”

because he knows he still does, he knows he always will, but it’s not something either of you can bear to hear right now.

you both have said what the other needed to hear and when you guys part tonight, maybe you’ll finally start feeling better. fix yourselves and the damage you’ve caused each other and maybe reunite when the universe deems it right.

two and a half years later:

it had always been your dream to see the northern lights.

something about them had always fascinated you, how they almost didn’t see real or were just a figment of fake editing that would only ever be seen in photos.

but you had an overwhelming need to see them before your very eyes. see the sight before you and marvel in just how truly fascinating and beautiful it was.

so that’s exactly what you did.

you wrote down a list of all the places you wanted to see: the egyptian pyramids, the great wall of china, the taj mahal, the eiffel tower, all of the sights that you knew in order to see, you’d have to leave the perfect little town you loved so much.

it took a lot of attempts, a lot of tears and anxiety and frantic calls to your therapist, but finally, you were able to do it.

it was the third to last place on your 6-month journey around the world, jet lag getting to you immensely but an extremely fulfilling pride and excitement within you.

you were able to do it. see the sights and meet hundreds of different people and experience all the things you convinced yourself you didn’t need or want.

and you didn’t have a single regret until this very moment.

because the rookie mistake you made within this amazing, journey of self-discovery around the world was not investing in a parka.

the biting temperatures of alaska were surely getting to you right now, your glove covered hands over your ears as you trekked through the snow with other groups of (properly dressed) tourists during the aurora season.

you found yourself in a snowy, freezing field, tall evergreen trees above your heads as you waited patiently for the sky to change perfectly, a buzzing excitement and low chatter from the people around you.

footsteps crunching on snow filled your ears from every direction, your eyes on the trees and large sky above you. a harsh gust of wind whipped past you and you let out a tiny squeal, your hands shooting up to your red, wind-burnt face.

you could hear a quiet, low chuckle beside you, something about the strangely familiar sound sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. you didn’t understand them at that moment, ignoring your bodies odd reaction and keeping your eyes focused on the sky.

it took hearing his voice, the same one you’d fallen in love with in your own backyard, for your eyes widen and quickly look over the snowy vast of land surrounding you.

mingi stepped in front of you, eyes full of amusement and pride and even disbelief, looking over your face with the same type of a fascination he had when he first met you.

“aren’t you cold?”

inspired by: line without a hook by ricky montgomery, ty tiktok

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @chrryhwa @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @toffee-hwa @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii

#so aha.... not the dystopian au #but i was inspired by a song in the car and this happened <3 #mingi #mingi angst #mingi fluff #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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xhanisai · 4 years

Text

Blanc Noise - Chapter One

AO3 / FFN

Summary:

It first began with the feeling of being watched and the flicker of shadows.

Then along came missing items being returned in the most odd places.

Soon it was the glimpses of blue eyes in the darkness and a silhouette of white that haunted her.

Marinette thought she saved him, that she saved her Chat Noir from the dystopian timeline.

She was wrong...oh so wrong...

A/N: Wassup mah d00ds! I hope you're all doing well and everything! Anyways, on tumblr, I made a quick AU of 'What if Chat Blanc comes back but as a ghost?' and it got lots of positive attention hence I decided to start a full fledged story. After all, I am a fucking slut for Mariblanc~ Big thanks to my good friend @/gale-of-the-nomads for the title name (sometimes, he has a good idea or two despite the amount of terrible puns he spews lol). Nevertheless, enjoy! P.S: The story takes place after the episode: Ladybug. Therefore, Maître Fu is still around, the love square is still going strong and Ladybug is not the guardian. Additionally, I've tweaked the timeline. The duo have now started their final year in collège in September (the events of Ladybug happened just before the summer holidays). Do I make myself clear? Good. Have fun! Song listened to whilst writing: White Silence - TK from Ling tosite sigure

~(x)~ . . . "MmmMhmm! That smells amazing! What have brought this time, My Lady?" The feline hero leapt to his feet, faux ears and tails wiggling with delight and pupils dilating with elation. Ladybug laughed softly at her endearing partner, sitting down on their favourite beam of the Eiffel Tower and beckoning the boy to come closer, wiggling the Tupperware in her hand teasingly. Chat Noir didn't hesitate to scurry towards her, plopping down on the spot opposite the heroine as she placed the container in his greedy hands. If he wasn't such a gentleman, he would have immediately tore off the lid and scarfed the delectable goodies down his throat like the alley cat his Lady proclaimed him to be. "Guess." Ladybug humoured him. "And before you ask, the clue is that it's a savoury dish this time. Don't shake it up too much." She playfully took it away from him and then placed it on the spot between them, grinning as Chat's face scrunched up into a thinking expression. Lips pursed, eyes narrowed and arms folded. Absolutely adorable. "Hm...it can't be steamed garlic prawns. You brought that yesterday." Noir mused. "And it doesn't smell like duck pancakes either." He added, scrutinising the mystery within the container. "You mean the Běijīng kǎoyā? Not after that horrible heartburn it gave you last week." Ladybug cheekily flicked his forehead, earning an annoyed grunt from him. "Geez no need to flex on the Chinese, Mlle. I don't know a lick of Mandarin." He tried to swat away Ladybug's hands when she attempted to poke him for making fun of her, chuckling at her mock angry face. "Okay okay! I'll behave- the heartburn was worth it by the way~ I started to crave for more days after, hahaha-" "I know SOME Mandarin, stupid!" "Insults and crude words do not count, My Lady." "Just guess the food in the Tupperware already or else I won't share!" Her threat froze the black cat comically. Chat quickly blabbered out apologies, clearing his throat and then eyed the container again. The sound of his stomach rumbling broke the silence, embarrassing the hero whilst his partner barely kept in her snickers. "Vermicelli rolls?" "Nope." "Kung-Pao chicken?" "Nah." "...wontons?" "You're getting closer," "Agh...okay from when I shook it, it sounded quite hard and crispy so..." He carefully shook the container once more, ears pressed against the cool surface as he tried his best to identify the treasures. Finally, an idea struck him, evident in the way his faux ears and tail shot upwards. "Aha! Spring rolls! It's spring rolls, isn't it?" His face looked like one who won the lottery and Ladybug couldn't help but coo internally. He was such a dork. "That's right, Chaton. Now, if you guess the correct fillings, I'll let you have some." Ladybug added nonchalantly, eating up the way Chat spluttered and the frazzled gestures he made, eyes begging to let him have the treats already. "Oh come on! You're not that cruel, Bug." He pouted but didn't attempt to snatch away the container. He directed his beady glare at his Lady, arms folded. "...La-aaaaady-bu-uuuuug..." He whined. "Just kidding~ Here, Bon appétit ," Ladybug didn't waste time, tearing off the lid and beckoning Chat to take some of the spring rolls. The boy's eyes widened at the sight of the delicious looking treats. The pastry was golden and crisp, the size of each roll were consistent and big enough to finish in three bites and the enticing, spicy scent made the feline salivate. And, they were still piping hot. Hell yeah, Bon appétit indeed! Without hesitation, Chat took a bite, unaware of Ladybug's anticipating look. . "Holy shit...I'm in heaven..." The teen blurted out, eyeing his spring roll with a tearful look, as if it was too beautiful for him to eat. He shoved the whole pastry in his mouth, moaning in delight without a shame whilst his Lady's tinkling giggles was like music to his ears. What a way to spend the last evening of summer before school. A beautiful summer night, a beautiful lady and amazing food! 'Yes, this cat is content for life,' He purred to himself, smiling at his partner as she offered him another roll. "Thank dieu you enjoyed it. I wasn't too sure if you were going to be keen on the secret ingredient I mixed in with the vegetables." Ladybug twirled her roll, cheeks ever so slightly flushed with happiness. "Is it that exotic spicy scent that I've been smelling this whole time?" "Yes. Maman's friend who's from the south-east gave her these homegrown naga-chillies. They're really, really hot on their own but without the seeds, they're bearable to me and make the vegetable filling taste so good." She bit into her roll as if to emphasise her point. She was blind to the way Chat Noir watched her with a pleasant, fulfilled smile. The warmth that pulsed in his stomach provoked his heart to skip a few beats or so- a standard reaction that the love of his life always gave him. 'I wish you would be mine forever...' His unsaid words were left floating in the back of his head as he nibbled on his food. The duo spent the rest of the night laughing, joking, exchanging bizarre stories without giving away their civilian lives and before they knew it, it was midnight. "Uh-oh...I'm turning into a pumpkin! Save me!" Chat Noir wailed dramatically, curling up into a ball and leaning against Ladybug. Her hearty laughter grew in volume, the girl clutching her stomach as she gasped for a breath only for Chat to join her with his contagious laugh. Soon, they calmed down. With the calm came the thoughts. The crescent of the moon shone like a beacon. The temperature of the summer air started to cool and the beautiful city lights below shone like diamonds. The two were hesitant to leave, wanting to prolong their last summer night. The older of two wanted to spend as much time as he wanted with the girl he loved. The younger on the other hand? She wanted to keep him happy and close. After all, She would rather die than fail her partner again and let him be akumatised. Little did she know how potent her sadness was. The atmosphere turned tense in a flip of a switch, sending shivers down Chat's spine and he was quick to glance at his now, forlorn looking Lady. As if they didn't just have a laughing fit and a mini picnic. It was that damn empty, distant looking face again. The boy under the mask absolutely despised it. He would do anything to get rid of it. "You know I'm always here for you, Bug." He placed his hands on her forearms, beckoning her to look at him. Ladybug refused to meet eye contact so he tilted her chin up with a finger, delivering a soft, sad grimace. "It's been months now and yet you wouldn't tell me what happened. Did you think acting more sweet around me would distract me from your tears?" The girl hadn't noticed her eyes were watering till her Chaton pointed it out and wiped away a stray tear. She knew he was much more smarter and perceptive than most would give him credit for yet she couldn't help but pray that he would leave her be. 'He's always been too good for you. You know it. I know it. So why don't you just hurry up and throw the earrings away so that someone else who's actually worthy of utilising the power can properly look after him?' "I told you, nothing happened. Just silly, civilian stuff." Ladybug tried to shrug him off, quickly wiping her eyes and trying her best to not sniffle. "Let's just go home-" "When will you stop lying to me?" The boy hissed out, tail lashing against the beams in anger and feline ears pressed against his dishevelled locks. His acidic green eyes pierced through Ladybug's being. A deadly scowl that would surely cause the blood in Le Papillon's body to freeze and petrify him. Ladybug tried her best to not show how he surprised her, keeping a poker face and swallowed quietly. However, with the way his hands were clasped around her wrists, she feared he could feel her rapid pulse. Why was it always her that caused his rare anger to rise on an occasion or two? It was simply not fair. How righteous his anger was towards her. A sudden gust of wind swept through their hair, ending the summer season and introduced the newly born autumn with a howl. It felt like ice seeping through their suits. Yet, the polka dotted heroine didn't dare move a muscle, observing her partner with a cool, neutral expression. Chat Noir hated it. He absolutely hated it. It was one of the few faces she made when she was forced to keep a secret away from him even if it took a toll on her body and mind. He felt disgustingly useless. "I'm fine, Chat Noir." Ladybug wiggled her hands to free them of his grip, bringing them to her chest as she glanced towards the city below. "Can we please not do this tonight? Please? I want it to end on a good note." Her wish was met with a defeated sigh from her partner, not flinching for even a split second when his tail whipped against a stray beam. An echo of his anger prior. Just as it was quick to come, it was quick to leave, thankfully. "I'm not give up on you," His resolute tone induced a quiet gasp from Ladybug, the girl herself cut her gaze towards him with parted lips. "But for tonight, I'll let you be." He didn't smile but...he didn't frown either. Reaching for her hands one last time, Chat Noir brought them to his lips. His bold, fiery greens never left her soft, steady blues whilst his lips brushed against her knuckles in a traditional kiss. Taking advantage of her lack of hesitation, he kissed the backs of her hands too and then brought them to his chest so that she could feel his fierce, beating heart. It began to lash against his chest when a light rouge tinted her cheeks. "I'm always here for you, always. No matter what, you can count on me to protect you." Then, with a determined nod, he launched forward and pecked her head before letting go of her swiftly and vaulting away with an impeccable speed. Ladybug remained frozen in her position, cheeks flaming until his figure became smaller and smaller in the distance. By the time she could no longer see him, she sunk to her knees, grasping her chest as her throbbing heart felt like it was going to burst out and explode. Millions of emotions ran through her body, fighting against each other as the memory of him kissing her head replayed over and over again. Like the sweetest of poison. Addicting but deadly. Despite the warm, fluttering butterflies, despite the smooth, softness of his lips, despite the comforting, protective touch of his, Ladybug couldn't help but have the memories of the other timeline flare in her mind like a warning sign. An unwanted threat that has never failed to wreck her mind. Biting her lips, she tried to keep her tears at bay, body shaking and pushing against the sobs that threatened to spill out. She was so tempted to run back to him and tell him everything. To care for him like the way he deserves. To love him like the way he needs. Yet the haunting, crazed ice blue eyes of the past invaded the temporary soaring feelings like a virus, eating away all the positivism and hope she tried her upmost best to maintain. 'You have no right to be happy...' An ugly gloom hooded her eyes, killing all her emotions as she staggered back up to her feet, using a beam nearby for support. The harsh wind clawed through her hair, ridding her trademark ponytails of their ribbons and blowing them away to the other side of Paris. Ladybug simply didn't have the energy to get them back, using muscle memory to swing herself back home. Her ribbons long forgotten. It was a cold, bleak September now. ~(x)~ It was quiet. Too quiet. Standing up from her crouch after detransforming on her balcony, Marinette immediately spun around and glared at her surroundings whilst Tikki hovered close. Not a single sound was heard. Not even the wind. Suddenly, Marinette's heart began to pick up pace as beads of sweat started to form on her forehead. The only thing she could hear was her heartbeat as she felt something weird. Her entire neighbourhood was asleep, evident in the lights out and the pitch black environment. The only source of light in her vision were the few lamp posts on the streets as well as around the park. Yet, she couldn't ignore the feeling of being watched. Not wanting to show fear at a possible stalker, Marinette took large strides till she was at the edge of her balcony, clutching the railings and scanned the scene with more scrutiny. One of the lamp posts merely flickered as moths buzzed around it. The trees simply swayed along with the inaudible breeze. The streets and roads remained empty. Not a single soul out. Marinette exhaled softly, eyes never stopping its study of her surroundings. She took a step back, tension leaving her body bit by bit, leaving an aching throb in her chest. The adrenaline that fuelled her veins vaporised. "I don't think there's anyone around, Marinette." Tikki whispered, clutching the girl's loose strands as she also watched for anything suspicious. "Can we go back inside? I'm cold." "...okay." Marinette glared at the scene from her peripheral vision once more, almost swearing that she saw movement under one of the lamps only to brush it off as paranoia and made her way back to the trapdoor. Since she wasn't paying attention, the teen bumped into her table, almost tripping over her feet but thankfully caught herself. "Eek! Are you okay?" The little Goddess freaked out, flying in front of her charge and scanning her from head to toe for any injuries. She was waved off with a tired smile. "Don't worry, it's probably just a little...bruise...?" A slither of red caught Marinette's attention from the corner of her eye only for her to gawk. There, on the railing of her balcony was... ...One of her ribbons. Inhaling sharply and leaping towards the railings, clutching her treasured ribbon, Marinette spied around the neighbourhood desperately like a hawk. Tikki's presence on her shoulders did nothing to alleviate her stress as sweat from palpitation grew on her palms. Her mouth on the other hand ran dry and she refused to blink. She didn't dare to tremble. She was Ladybug. Nothing should scare her. ...with her partner's possible akumatisation aside that is. Regardless, Marinette fixated her stare at the specific lamp post. The area where she brushed off momentarily. The light flickered back and forth whilst moths carried on fluttering around it without a care in the world. She watched. And watched. And watched. . Still nothing. Without looking away, knuckles white from her grip on the ribbon and her free hand cradling her beloved kwami, Marinette walked backwards, gingerly going down her trapdoor and quickly closed it till it was locked shut. . The silence haunted her all night. ~(x)~ "Ma-ri-nette!!!" Instantly, said girl was glomped by her best friend in a hug that would surely asphyxiate a commoner. Thankfully, Marinette was not only Ladybug in disguise but also trained vigorously in many of the martial arts by her dear maman. "Alya! I missed you! How was Morocco with Nino and his family?" Marinette leaned against Alya as the taller of the teens hooked their elbows together, leading them inside the school. "Girllllll I have so many scoops to share, so many deets-" "The million texts and selfies you sent me daily weren't just it?" "They barely scratched the surface! But anyways, it was amazing! I couldn't believe my parents were willing to let me go even when Nora threw a fit haha! I got to relax so much, spent quality time with Nino and his extended family, took so many pictures and tried so many different food. Ah~ Best. Summer. Ever." "Oh the food...I can't believe you shamelessly ate all of that without sharing it with me," The raven-haired girl teased, pushing her hip against Alya's who pushed back without a beat. "You wouldn't be moping if you came along, Mari. Remember the tagine you tried at the local restaurant nearby and you thought that was divine? Lemme tell you, it is nothing compared to the authentic, fresh tagine made by Nino's tante. One taste and I was in heaven. Absolute heaven." "Alya you're making me jealous, I get it, I get it." Marinette playfully scoffed but then her energy soon wore off and fatigue took over her body. Alya was quick to catch the tired girl as soon as she began to sway, perfect brows sculpted in worry as she eyed her best friend. "Marinette...girl...you do not look okay. I'm telling you this 'cos I love you. Go back home and sleep." The brunette brushed Marinette's fringe gently, noting the tired, dark rings under her eyes and the unhealthy paleness of her skin. It was as if Marinette avoided the sun all her life. "I don't wanna..." The stubborn girl whined but didn't fight back when Alya led her to a nearby bench, sitting them both down. "I've been missing you all too much and couldn't wait to see you all again," She admitted, earning a coo from the curvy girl and another hug. Alya's sun-kissed honey skin was a stark contrast against Marinette's pale, porcelain skin. "Alright then but I'll be keeping an eye on you, girl. I can see the effort you put into your cute bun and soft make up. How you do your eyeliner freehand without a guide will always baffle me~" Just as Marinette was about to retort back, the duo were engulfed by a surprise hug from the back. Neither fought back as the familiar laughter and soft, masculine brown arms were registered. "Babe! And dudette! My best girls!" Nino popped his head forward, in between the girls and squished their cheeks against his. "Heyyyy~" He waggled his eyebrows stupidly, his shit eating grin widening when his girlfriend burst out laughing and Marinette following with a quiet giggle. "Nino, g'morning," Alya quickly pecked his lips. To further his dramatics, Nino pretended to swoon and flopped backwards between the girls with a dopey smile. "Finally, a good lundi morning," Nino sighed with exaggeration, his girl still trying her best to stifle her laughter whilst Marinette fondly rolled her eyes at him. "I can now brave through these useless lessons and deal with M. D'Argencourt's bullshit rambles during registration. Oh how amazing the power of lo-oooove truly is!" "Oh yeah, I almost forgot that we won't have Mme. Bustier this year. Was about to say that I was gonna miss her but not gonna lie, she lost all my respect when you got expelled." Alya huffed, pulling Marinette against her like a worried mother hen. "To think that I almost had to spend my last year here without my precious Marinette~" "But Babe! What about me?" "You wish you were as precious as sweetcheeks over here." Alya blew a raspberry at her boyfriend, cheeky grin widening at his dramatics. Marinette on the other hand simply smiled, savouring every moment. The fact that there was a possibility that she would have had to attend a different collège for her final year without her friends made her quiver and she didn't falter in snuggling closer to her best friend. She's been through so much this year. Surely she deserved some sort of happiness. Even if she failed her partner at one point... Right? 'No. You do not deserve anything but pain and suffering you selfish, self-righteous brat. Because of you, how long did your beloved partner go through that hell? How many nights did he spend wide awake after destroying the world? Face it, you don't deserve him or your friends or any sort of love-' The dark, twisted, ugly thoughts and whispers that preyed upon her mind was quick to diminish at the sound of pure sunshine. "You guys! Hey!" Marinette didn't get a chance to look up fully as she and the rest of the small group was tackled by their loving blonde friend in a comfy, sweet hug. Her heart malfunctioned on the spot as all she could smell was the fresh, crisp autumn air that lingered in his soft hair and coat. Her mind rebooted over and over again at the feel of his strong, sturdy arm wrapped around her. Her lips quaked at the feel of his brushing against her cheek despite the gleeful smile he wore. "A-A-Adrien?" The model pulled back slightly to face the stammering girl, lips quirking into a silly but sweet smile. Not thinking twice, he pressed his forehead against Marinette's tenderly, their fringes intermingling with each other and their cool breaths hitting each other's lips. Adrien's eyes sparkled like emeralds and the aspiring designer couldn't help but be mesmerised. "Missed me~?" His nose was touching hers now and his pearly whites gleamed mischievously. Poor Marinette couldn't help but blink, blush already blooming in her cheeks. Dammit. They may have gotten much, much closer yet there were still times that the boy rendered her speechless! What's with the green eyed blonde boys in her life and making her heart a complete wreck?! "B-Bro...can't breathe...I don't wanna die!" Nino's muffled pleas shattered the moment and Adrien immediately broke the hug, snickering at the way Nino gasped for air and clutched a deadpanned Alya. Though, he took a seat besides Marinette and kept an arm around her waist, leaning against her as they watched the couple bicker and banter. "Enjoyed your holidays, Adrien?" Marinette began, playing with the fraying threads of her purse and peeked at him below her lashes. Adrien hummed, sitting up and then directed his gorgeous greens at her. 'Be still, my heart.' Marinette couldn't help but beg. "It was alright. Didn't leave Paris though and had too many photo-shoots. What about you? Didn't you get to go to Shanghai for a week?" Adrien's question almost went unheard as Mari couldn't help but be hyper-aware of the warmth of his hand on her waist. The way his finger casually tapped against it. The innocent smile he had on his lips. This boy was going to be the death of her. 'But you don't deserve him. You don't deserve either of them. Be lucky that they even acknowledge your filthy existence.' The eerie whispers clawed through her brain, her body begging to run away and cry. Yet, she forced her fingers to move away from her purse and pull on the seams of her navy pea-coat, smile never faltering. "Yes, I did. I really enjoyed it there. I wish I got to stay for lo-longer..." She trailed off, swallowing down any babbles or word soup as Adrien squeezed her waist as a gesture of comfort. He was being really sweet today... "I don't blame ya- all the pictures you posted online looked so cool. The skyline at night, the food, heck even your relatives! If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought that cousin of yours was your brother." "You wouldn't be the first to mistaken us as siblings," She giggled. "When we were younger and they came over to Paris to visit, some people used get mixed up between me and him. It didn't help that I had my hair really short at the time and wore nothing but blue and red." "That would have been really cute to see. Hmm, it also makes sense with how easily you accepted that Félix and I were just cousins instead of that weird conspiracy theory that Kim concocted up." "Oh I wouldn't say I accepted it too easily. You and your cousin are like mirrors of each other. It's insane! I thought for a minute that you had an evil twin." Marinette winked merrily, her giggles simply grew while Adrien rolled his eyes at her. "Come on. Not you too." His fake pout didn't last long and he quietly chortled alongside her. Just a smile from his Princesse was enough to brighten up his day despite the small fight he had with Ladybug eight hours prior. Yes, Ladybug was the love of his life. Yes, he would go to the moon and back for her. However, he would be an absolute idiot and horrifically obtuse to deny that his feelings for Marinette weren't as strong. With rare wisdom from his lazy kwami, Adrien learned that having feelings for more than one person was not only natural but also healthy in a way. It showed that he wasn't forever stuck on one person and it eased the pain of his Lady's rejection to his advances. Ladybug and Marinette were his best friends first and foremost and he wouldn't dare to sabotage his precious friendships. It didn't mean he couldn't wish for Ladybug to fall for him one day. Same for Marinette. He's still a silly teen; he could keep dreaming and fantasising! Till then, he was going to go with the flow and see what the future entailed. As far as he was concerned, his future was leaning more towards Marinette and frankly, he did not mind one bit. Abruptly, the morning bell rang, indicating that it was time for the students to head to class for registration. Grunts and groans were heard from the swarm of students in the courtyard, Kim's distinct "It's time for hell, bitches!" being one of the more prominent voices in the crowd along with Alix's curses. "Thank fuck Mari-bee was the class president last year and made sure that we got our class to be the same for this year. I'd have eaten my own hands if I had to deal with that one annoying kid obsessed with magic again." Nino shot a friendly punch against Marinette's shoulder and then wrapped an arm around Alya's waist as she led them to their new classroom. "Did he just indirectly mention that he'd rather have Chloé and Lila over Jean as his classmate?" Marinette huffed with endearment, taking the hand that Adrien offered to help her up. The sudden rush to her head caused her to wobble on the spot. Luckily, Adrien steadied her without a word, hands clasping her forearms. "S-Sorry..." She attempted to step away but the boy's grip on her tightened, halting her. Marinette glanced back at Adrien with confusion, cocking her head to the side slightly and lips pursed. "...you're not feeling well, aren't you?" A nail in the coffin. Adrien scanned her body from head to foot, frown growing deeper. "You can barely stand." "I'm fine. I just...couldn't get any sleep. I was nervous for the first day of school and also didn't want to oversleep." Marinette answered quickly, looking away from him. She didn't expect his finger to hook under her chin, forcing eye contact. For the first time, Adrien glared at her. Glared. He leaned in closer, bending down so that he could reach her height. "Are you lying?" Neither of them budged. The mutterings and chatter from the students that were around grew fainter and fainter until all that was heard was the classroom doors slamming shut and the echos of the teachers doing the register. Marinette wanted to quickly deny the allegation. She wanted to push him aside and run to class. She wanted to forget how she momentarily confused Adrien with her partner. Though, even the Ladybug could run out of luck. "Adrien," She began. "We're going to be late." Her stoic, cool expression showed that she wasn't going to budge, pissing off her friend completely. The model tsked with irritation, quick to grab her hand whilst using his other one to adjust the strap of his bag over his shoulder. He moodily led her to their class, refusing to utter another word. For a split second, the defiance and stubbornness in Marinette's eyes were a hundred percent identical to Ladybug's. He almost blurted out his treasured nickname for her. The annoyance of said stubbornness and refusal to accept his help grew stronger instead, causing him to try and forget about it and brood later on. What's with his treasured girls and their stupid reluctance to let him help!? . He wasn't aware of the horror that was plastered on Marinette's face. The girl refused to tear her eyes away from the main door behind them as a lone, torn up, dirty ribbon flayed in the entrance. A familiar ribbon that was most definitely not there ten seconds ago. When M. Haprèle closed the door, Marinette could have sworn... ...that there was a pair of blue eyes watching her right back. . . . ~(x)~ A/N: That's the end of chapter one! It's more like a prologue ish, slow chapter since we're building up- so bear with me, aight? I hope you enjoyed reading it regardless. I stayed up till 5am to write it after all :0 If this chapter gets at least ten comments, I will update! Till then, see you next time~

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